#*draws [Cross] choosing a fork instead* And So They Were Like Fire and Water...

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 12 | Dreams Come True

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 7,105

Warnings: Smut

Part 12 | Dreams Come True

“My disappointing days, my insecure day, they will all become dazzling like myself right now.”

Prev 

A/N: Usually I would write my author note at the very end but today is going to be a bit special because we finally reach the end of the series! (Even the word count is different, lol!)

To be honest, I didn’t expect that I would come this far with this series. I guess I became more and more attached to the characters and the storyline as we progressed. I really did enjoy writing this series, like my fingers just couldn’t stop writing.

Also, not in a million years that I would dare to imagine any of you would read my story. Maybe it’s just me being insecure all the time? Who knows.

Nevertheless, I wish I could express how grateful I am. I know right now I can only say it via note like this, but I hope you guys able to feel how thankful I am for all of you. Really, I read every single notes, your reblogs, and it always made my day whenever I receive your feedback. (OK, stop –or else I wouldn’t be able to stop crying)

Thank you for loving Interlude: No More Drama. I hope you would enjoy this last chapter of the Interlude series, as much as you enjoyed the previous ones!

With love,

Dee (yup, my name everyone!)

“You’re not eating your meal.”

Yuta pulls you back to earth, noticing how you’ve been playing with your omelet instead of shoving it to your mouth.

“You’ve been dozing out recently, it started to get into my nerves.”

Yuta is always direct, he never sugarcoats his words. Clearly your action annoys him.

“It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

You dropped your fork, telling Yuta that he shot a bullseye.

“Alright,” He rose from his seat, taking his plate and yours. “Eating is definitely not on your mind, sit on the couch, let’s talk.”

He quickly cleared the table, leaving you with no option but to obey him.

You make your way to the TV area. You spent so much time at Nakamoto's residence, you could practically walk there with your eyes closed. But it would be wasteful to do so, as the view from his window is always mesmerizing. Today is no exception, with how blue the sky is.

Usually, the view from his window is always complimented with your waves of laughters, because Yuta always managed to make you smile. But not today, or the last few weeks prior to the party. The unsettling feelings after the commotion last month still lingers.

“Here,” Yuta passes you a glass of water, which you immediately drank without hesitation.

“So,” He sat next to you, turning his body so he could face you. “When are you going to tell me that you’re still in love with him?”

You choked because he definitely took you by a surprise. You continuously tried to clear your throat. Feeling slightly guilty, Yuta helped you by tapping your back.

“What? No– I mean, Jaehyun and I, we’re a thing in the past and now I have you…”

“[Y/N],” He caressed your back, still worried about how he caused you to choke, occasionally pressing his thumb to give you gentle massages. “Any sane person would know that the feelings between you and Jaehyun are anything but over.”

You stayed quiet, completely did not expect out of all people it would be Yuta who calls you out.

“Listen, [Y/N],” He holds your arm, “We’ve been together for what, four months? And yet that night at the launch party, or the arresting party,”

You giggled at his remark, causing him to let out his signature radiant smile.

The comforting smile.

“I never saw you looking at someone with so much love. And that lucky person is no other than your ex.”

“But Yuta, I-”

“I’m not saying what we had wasn’t real.” He interjects, “It’s partly my fault anyway. I kinda force you into this relationship. So I do expect to be your rebound of some sort.”

“You’re not a rebound!” You quickly disagree with him, “It’s just…”

“I know, I know.” He finished your sentence. “We kissed, we even slept together –and don’t tell me I’m not good at it because you’d be lying.”

You smacked him real good at his arm, for continuing his jokes when the conversation is clearly not meant for any jokes –though you still give him the credit by laughing at it. “And, you are a wonderful person, [Y/N]. You didn’t let me do it after I spent nearly two months with you, and that’s a long time for a Nakamoto.”

“Because I know you care about my feelings too, and you really did try to like me. We spent many dates together, giving each other gifts and we shared lovely memories together. But I know whatever you shared with Jaehyun is something that I could never have.”

Your smile turns sour, at how true his statement is.

“Yuta, I’m sorry.” You finally couldn’t hold back the tears. “I tried, I really did. You are the most amazing person, you’ve patiently waited for me and I promise you I really, really cherish the moment we’ve spent together, but…”

Yuta hugs you, causing you to weep louder, wetting his shoulder. “I just… can’t seem to forget about Jaehyun. I don’t know, we’ve spent an equal amount of time like what I did with him, and yet–”

“You don’t choose who you fall for, [Y/N].” He caresses your hair, shushing your sobs. “As cliche as it might sound, sure, you would initially choose the person. But our feelings are something that transcends our logic. You could never force love.”

Yuta releases you from his embrace, now looking directly at you to meet your now red eyes.

“It’s always been Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

You’re unable to hold the pain of having to tell the truth, lips quivering. But Yuta does not deserve any lies, so you nod involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, Yuta…”

“Don’t be. Why should you apologize for falling in love?”

It makes you feel like you’re the worst. Why can’t you just fall in love with Yuta? He’s the kindest man, and he clearly cares about you a lot. He is very mature, and he – at least, doesn't have a complicated background.

But your heart just doesn’t beat as fast as it is with him when you’re with Jaehyun.

“Now wash your face,” He said, tugging your hair to the back of your ear. “Your eyes are swollen. I’ll reheat your meal. My mom always told me to finish my meal so you’re not leaving until you eat everything.”

You laugh, “I never knew someone would care about their ex this much.”

“Ex?” He snickers, “We were never official, to begin with.”

You pushed him playfully before you ran along to the bathroom.

You’re glad it was Yuta. How he’s always mature with his decisions. How he’s able to turn the awkward atmosphere into something that is anything but it.

The distance between where the bathroom is and where Yuta was was not far, but enough for you not to hear him whisper.

“And I will never apologize for falling for you, too.”

-

“He did what?”

Doyoung expresses what you experienced last week perfectly.

“No wonder you invited me out tonight. Thought it was quite odd for you not to be with Yuta.”

“What do you expect? Hanging out with two broken-hearted people?”

“As far as your story goes, I thought Yuta is the only one with a broken heart, ouch!” He squirmed as you pinch his arm.

“It’s equally as painful for me, too, Doy. I tried to fall for Yuta, you know.”

“It just doesn’t work out?” He asks.

You shook your head, “It’s weird, even when I think about it. Yuta cares a lot about me. He’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s honest. Why can’t I just fall for him, Doyoung? He wasted his time on me, while here I am still stuck with a person who I didn’t even contact for months.”

“How am I supposed to know? Guess you’re just dumb.” He flinches when you were about to slap him, pleading for your forgiveness. “It is as Yuta said, you can never force love. Yuta can be the ten times better version of Jaehyun but that wouldn’t matter if you already set your heart to Jaehyun.”

You replied with a sigh. He’s right. If you couldn’t understand your own heart, how could he?

Just as you were about to lit your cigarette, you saw a familiar figure entering the bar, pausing you.

“Johnny!” You stand up, greeting the familiar figure. He squinted his eyes to see who called him, and smiled instantly when he discovered you.

“[Y/N]! It’s been a while!” He crosses his hand over your waist, giving a friendly peck on your cheek as his greeting. “Oh, he’s not the guy at the party. Is this a new guy?”

Your palm landed on his upper arm. You might start with a professional relationship with Johnny, but he quickly became your friend. Although you didn’t talk as much after the project ended, you often had your cigarette breaks with him back then and talked about non-work-related stuff, so it’s not a surprise that you guys are chummy to each other.

“I don’t move on that quickly, Johnny. This is my best friend, Kim Doyoung. Doyoung, this is Johnny. He’s my client back in NCT Corp..”

“Ah, yes I’ve heard.” Doyoung greets him, “Hi, I’m Kim Doyoung. Nice to meet you.”

“Johnny Seo. A pleasure to meet you, Doyoung.”

“You’re alone, Johnny?”

“Nah, I’m meeting Taeil and Sicheng. But they’re still on their way, so actually, mind if I stayed for a bit?” He says, which you and Doyoung replied with a unanimous nod. He then scanned your expression. “Looking for a specific person?”

You rolled your eyes, “Stop teasing me, Johnny. I’m not.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, sorry.” He pulls his cigarette pack out of his pocket, “How’s Yuta?”

You were trying to flick your lighter, but you stopped at the sudden mention of the name. 

“He’s at home, I think.”

“You think?” Johnny furrows his brows at the statement, but decides not to pry further. “Can I borrow your lighter?”

“Sure,” You move closer as you lit up your lighter, which he quickly accepted to fire up the end of his cigarette.

“Thank you,” He draws out the grey smoke, “Anyway, is the perfume you’re using right now on trend?”

“My perfume?” You’re smelling yourself, becoming insecure with your scent.

“I swear I’ve smelt it before. I couldn’t remember, so I thought it’s on-trend. Maybe a few of my coworkers wore it before.”

“That’s so random, Johnny.” You finally light up your cigs, “You could’ve picked a better pick-up line. Also, it’s been a hot minute since I sprayed my perfume, so the scent shouldn’t linger anymore.”

He burst in laughter, amused. “Aside from the fact that I’m actually into perfumes, I wouldn’t dare to pick you up, [Y/N].”

You know what he meant but decided to change the topic. The three of you talk, with the conversation mostly filled with Johnny and Doyoung exchanging business cards.

“Oh!” Johnny suddenly shouted, catching both you and Doyoung off guard.

“The hell, John!” You protested.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled. “I just remember where I smell your scent, [Y/N].”

“Okay, creeps. What are you, a dog?” Your remark causes the whole table to burst in laughter. “But go on.”

He rolled his eyes, “Sometimes I could smell that scent on Jaehyun.”

You stared at him, confused. Not only you are surprised that he actually remembers the scent, but even more so at the mention of your previous lover name, “Jaehyun?”

“Yup,” He lights up another cig, “It is a very distinct feminine scent, and usually Jaehyun would smell a lot like–”

“A jazz club?”

“There you go.” Smokes escaped from his mouth, “Though not always, he would sometimes smell very sweet. Which is odd, I thought Jaehyun is not a fan of such floral scent –hey, don’t give me that look.”

“No, now I really wonder whether I’m talking to a human or a german shepherd.” Doyoung is in awe of how specific Johnny’s descriptions are.

“Told you I’m a perfumer.” He self-proclaimed, “Yeah, but in particular it’s only during the weekends. Funny, isn’t it? The only time I didn’t meet Jae, I got to meet you and you guys shared the same scent! No wonder it feels very familiar.”

Then your eyes widen,

“Sure, I’ve been meaning to use your brand new body gel. The only time I can share the same scent with you is during weekends anyway.”

“Why? Scared of smelling like a female?”

“No, I don’t want others to know what you smell like. It’s exclusively mine.”

You suddenly stand up, scaring both of the men.

“I have to go.”

“Go?!” Doyoung felt betrayed. “Go where, you crazy woman? You didn’t even took a sip of your G&T!”

“Give it to Johnny. I’ll transfer the money.”

“It’s not about paying me back, but why the sudden rush?”

“I usually won’t order G&T but I’ll take the offer. Though, you’re not answering his question – where are you going?”

“I’ll text you the details. I have to go now!”

Doyoung rolled your eyes, “Ugh, fine. Promise me you wouldn’t do anything reckless.”

You linked your pinky to Doy’s, before grabbing your purse and leave the two men behind.

“I wonder why I could tolerate this secretive behavior. How is she and Jaehyun any different?”

Johnny nods in agreement, raising his glass for a toast, “Can’t argue with that, buddy.”

-

You’re standing on the familiar pavement. It was as cold as the first time you were here.

You looked up and dialed a number. It didn’t take more than three seconds before the person from the other side of the line picked it up.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Why did you–”

You can hear that he is panting, then it struck to you that coming here unnoticed was probably a bad idea. 

“Did I bother you? I’m sorry I should’ve not called.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He says, trying to catch his breath. “I just… Didn’t expect to receive a call from you.”

Then you immediately regretted that you left Doyoung to come here.

It’s not like you customized your shower gel.

What if it was someone’s else?

What if Jaehyun has already found someone new?

“Ah, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called you this late. Please just forget–”

You were dozing off at the sidewalk, and a car nearby snaps you out of your daydream, honking at you. Of course, Jaehyun could listen both sound simultaneously – from the outside and from your call. 

“Wait, are you here?” He said, half doubtful.

“Oh, uhm, I thought I could make a visit because I have something to say. But you probably are busy and I came unnoticed. I’m sorry to have disturbed you, I shouldn’t–”

You can hear him on the other side rushing, and you didn’t have to wait long to see his figure standing on the balcony.

“[Y/N]?!” You can hear him loud and clear, even without pressing your ear to your phone. “What are you doing here late at night?! You could’ve just knock–”

“Now that I think about it, I should’ve told you in the first place that I was coming. Sorry, I’m not thinking it through. You’re probably not alone and I already disturbed your rest, I’ll get going.”

“I’m alone,” He stops you from going, “It’s damn cold outside, [Y/N]. I’ll pick you up,”

“Wait!” You stopped him from coming down, “Just... hear me out for a second.”

He returned to the previous position. Then you look at him, mustering all of your courage, “Jaehyun, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For wh-”

“Just let me talk first,” You took a deep breath, “I’m sorry for leaving you back then. I should’ve stayed when you’re at your lowest. But my body just moves on its own. I think… fear took the best of me.”

“All of a sudden, you revealed everything in one night. It’s unfair, you know? Imagine how I would feel at the night of revelation. There’s not enough time for me to process, Jae. And what if you did cover everything perfectly? I wouldn’t know anything about you.”

You can hear him sighing, “[Y/N], I told you I never meant to do that. Would you believe me if I told you it was for your safety?”

“I know you are. But it still a part of you, Jaehyun. Not just any part, it’s practically a large piece of you. And for me to not know anything about you... is just devastating.” You continue, “Then, Yuta came into the picture. He was kind, mature, and he cares a lot about me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re engaged?” You can hear him panicking, “Because if you do, this is a very cruel way to tell your ex, you know?”

You softly chuckled at his remarks, “But he could never be you, Jaehyun.” You then felt a stream fall from your eyes, “I could list down Yuta’s – no, even the next guy’s great traits but they could never replace you.”

“I know this might came off as selfish after I pushed you away, but after me and Yuta were over, I’ve been thinking about why I can’t seem to forget you. What makes you different, Jaehyun?”

You can hear him startled, holding his breath.

“And meeting Johnny just now makes me realize,”

You wiped your tears, looking down as you muster every inch of your strength to continue, “That even though you hid things for me, or even when your father is a psycho, it doesn’t change the fact that nobody treats me like you did. The way your touches make me feel safe. The way you look at me that always makes me feel special. Also, the fact that you remember the details, though sometimes it’s borderline creepy.”

Both of you softly laugh, “But... I think the reason why I fell in love with you, not because of your gorgeous smile that is always accompanied with by dimple, or your wealth, but simply because you never give up on me. Even when I did.”

You thought you could continue without hassle, but your tears tell you otherwise. You are practically sobbing on Jaehyun’s ear.

“When I first left, you never stop texting me even though I put it on read. You even asked Johnny to spare you some time during our meeting that day just to talk to me. You even changed your Saturdays just to visit Interlude, just for you to see me. It… teaches me how you really value a person. How to treasure someone that deeply.”

“I was ready to live my life in ordinary. But you know, what is life without a bit of risk? You’re the one that I’ve been looking for, Jaehyun. The only person that sparks so many joy in my life, the one that is always full of surprises. That is you, and only you, Jaehyun. The one that I inexplicably was drawn to. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but neither does love.”

“Wait,” He finally replies. “Stay there.”

You were startled, you called his name but only receive elevator bell sound before the call was abruptly ended.

Soon after, you saw his figure, rustling to wear his jacket to see you.

“Hi,” You put your phone back in your pocket, now awkward because you didn’t expect him to come down.

“What was that about?” He demanded an answer.

“Well…” You’re unsure how to answer, “I just thought I would tell you everything right now.”

You slowly look at him in the eyes, and you saw how he furrows his brows together.

“I’m sorry. It’s been months and you are probably seeing someone. Please don’t think too much about it, I just want to let it out of my chest.”

You were about to leave before Jaehyun held your hand.

“You’re no longer Yuta’s?”

You shook your head, “I never said I dated Yuta. We… were seeing each other, but we never officially date. Just last week I told him I can’t continue because–”

Jaehyun rushes to hug you, and you can feel that he’s trembling.

“Is this real?” He chokes up.

You finally let your tears break free, “I’m sorry Jaehyun, it took me long enough for me to realize my own feelings. Ever since the beginning, it will always be you. I love you, and–”

“You love me?”

You nod, then snuggle to him, “I love you more than I ever thought I would be.”

His reaction was a tad too quiet. You looked at up only to see his eyes glistening, welled up from his own tears.

“Jaehyun, please don’t cry.”

He releases you only to wipe his tears with the end of his sleeve, “Sorry, I promise you I’m not a crybaby.” He sniffed, “This just... came completely unexpected. You’re the only one who could make me weep like this. This feels like a dream come true.”

“This is real, love,” You return to his hug once more, “This time, I promise I’ll stay.”

Both of you took your time to feel each other’s warmth, longing for each other.

“I know, I failed big time after I left you. It pains me if I remember the face that you’ve made that day. It will always haunt me, the ups and the down during our times together.”

You then took a glance at him, smiling at him.

“But you know, what’s the first year if I’m going to spend seventy more years with you?”

He sigh in relief, hugging you even tighter. When you locked your gaze to each other, both of  couldn’t help but to laugh at your swollen faces.

He then caressed your cheeks, yearning to touch you all over. 

“Your hands are cold.” You said as you snuggle yourself to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Let’s go up,” He offers, holding out his hand to you.

“Can I?”

The signature dimple that you miss so much finally made its appearance, “I need to refill my share of cuddles, anyway.”

–

“[Y/N]...”

His kisses feel warm. It feels like it’s been so long, yet feels so familiar whenever he planted soft kisses on the back of your ear.

“Ah, Jaehyun!”

You whimper at the way he kisses you, treating you like you are a delicate porcelain doll. 

“I miss you,” He whispers close to your ears, causing you to flinch.

“Ah!”

He moves his tongue to your ears, nibbling every inch of you. He didn’t stop there, as he continues to tease you, flicking both of your nipples.

“Jaehyun, stop teasing me!”

“Not a chance, love.” He trails his lips to your jawline, “I’m gonna kiss every part of you. Do you know how much I endured after you left?”

Jaehyun’s lips finally meet yours, and you can feel how he forces his tongue, slithering inside and dancing with yours.

He moves one of his hands to your clit, rubbing them while his right hand still pinches your nipple. Jaehyun always makes you feel good, and this time is no expectation. He took his time, but accurately know your sweet spot it almost driving you insane.

“Look at you, baby love,” He breaks the kiss, now looking at you with his sharp eyes, “You told me to stop, but can you hear how wet you are?” As he continuously slides his fingers up and down at your clit, resounding your wetness.

He moves down, spreading your legs.

“Jaehyun, not– ah!”

You quickly grab his hair, surprised with the sudden gush of pleasure. Jaehyun is not joking when he says he’s going to kiss every part of you, as he slowly takes his time licking your folds. You can feel his tongue exploring your part, making you drown in ecstasy.

“Baby if you lick it that much, I’m gonna–!”

That is when he broke free, “Not yet, sweetheart.” He licks his upper lips, tasting you, “We haven’t reached the best part yet, so be good and wait for a bit, yeah?”

He then proceeds to rip open the condom, expertly pushing it down to his thick shaft. It was rock hard, and the tip was deep pink in color, coated with his precum.

He wants you, and he wants you bad.

“Now come here,” He lifted you, making you sit on his lap.

He continued to kiss you, and each time your lips met, the kisses became messier. You guys were panting, at the increasing rate of your libidos. You thought he was going to spread you open, but much to your disappointment he only teases you further with his cock, grinding them to meet your clit. You want him, and you know he wants you too, so why did he hasn’t fill you up?

“Jaehyun...!” You purred to his ears, moaning even louder.

“What’s the problem, [Y/N]?” He slides his hand to hold your hips, a smirk appears on his face “You love this thing,”

He then sloppily rubs his growing member, only to make yourself even wetter.

“Just fuck me, Jae!” You pleaded, “I want you, I want you inside me.”

You opened your eyes to met his gaze that is saturated with lust.

That is when you know Jaehyun is in his dominant mode.

“Why don’t you try and stick it in yourself, angel?”

Jaehyun knows you don’t usually ride on him, or take the full charge because it’s still embarrassing for you to top him. But today he wanted to be in full control, that includes commanding you. The way he did it with you during your first time.

“You such a jerk,” You complained, but at the same time, you use your hand to carefully position his cock to enter you.

“Now,” Jaehyun gave you a victorious smile, “I know you can’t wait for it, so you better hurry up, princess.”

You’re never fond of those nicknames, but the way Jaehyun said it to you just gushes the hormones in you. You slowly slid down your pussy to meet his cock, and the moment his tip enters you, you swore you almost cum instantly.

You stopped because you were drowning in pleasure, embracing Jaehyun tighter. You didn’t realize that you unintentionally placed Jaehyun’s head in between your breast, only taunting the beast in him further.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know whether you’re playing innocent, or you purposely do this,” You can feel Jaehyun squeezing your ass, “But don’t go riling me up like that!”

Suddenly all of him enters you at once. You twitched at the sudden connection, moaning hard.

“Oh God, Jaehyun!” You rest your head to his right shoulder, arms crossing over his back for support, “If you stick it in all the way like that–!”

You cummed at the way he fills you up completely, without notice too. There’s no way to hide it because it’s positive that Jaehyun could feel how your walls twitch around him.

But you’re dealing with a very horny Jaehyun here. And your orgasm only provokes him even further.

“Cumming already, love?” He lets out a soft rumble, “We’re just started, yeah? I’m not playing nice today, so brace yourself.”

“W-wait, Jaehyun, I’m still very sensiti– ah!”

Obviously not in the mood to listen, it is as if he lost his control. He continuously thrust deep into you. Every time his cock slides in, you can feel his tip touches the deepest part of you.

“Jaehyun!” You stutter, “S-stop! I can’t–”

“Stop?” He continued to pound you, you can hear the sound of your skin slapping to each other, “But baby, fuck, you’re squeezing me,”

The moans become louder as Jaehyun picks up his pace. 

“You love my cock, do you? You practically suck them in.”

“Baby it feels so good!” Finally giving in to the pleasure, you begged Jaehyun. “Oh, God! Jaehyun you’re so hard, ah–!”

You dig your nail to his back, telling him that you are as turned on as him. Making him want to mess you up, hard.

“Jaehyun! W-wait!” You grab his hair, asking for mercy. “D-don’t!”

He kisses your breast, blooming a purple flower at one of them. You’re a wreck, not sure where to concentrate –the way he bites your nipple or the way he continuously pushes in and out. The way he slams into you while at the same time teasing your nipple causing you to feel that the knot inside is about to unravel.

“Jaehyun!” You shouted his name, “I’m cumming again!”

Jaehyun looked at you, satisfied, “Good, I’m almost there, too.”

Groans escaped from Jaehyun’s mouth, “Just so you know, I won’t be settled with just one round. I’m gonna fuck you till the sun comes out.”

He couldn’t care about his rhythm anymore. He thrusts faster, and when he swears and repeatedly call your name, you know he’s about to cum. He bit your shoulder and pushes inside of you a few more times before releasing what both of you have been building up. You couldn’t stop shuddering, while you can feel him stalling, taking his time to cum inside. Both of you took a short, frantic breath, desperate to fill your lungs with oxygen.

“That was so good,” You complimented him, still clinging to him.

“Hey, we just cummed, never thought you were this impatient, [Y/N].”

You look at him before both of you pinch his cheeks, filling the room with warm giggles.

“Why don’t you give up?”

He hummed, asking you to further elaborate your question.

“I mean, it’s been a while since the party... and yet you just easily let me enter your life again.”

He replied with a smile, “I’ve told you before and I’m going to tell you over and over again, you are my safe haven, love. I’ve spent my whole life trying to pretend to be someone that I’m not. But with you, I can just be myself. Also, we always had amazing sex, pretty good reason to not give up on you, right?”

You pinch his cheeks, to which he protested with multiple ouches. You look at each other again, before naturally pulling to each other hugs, not satisfied with only a short amount.

You can feel his heartbeat and his soft breaths right next to you as he tucks his face at the nook of your shoulder. You swore, you never felt this blissful.

You miss him, you miss him a lot. Your lips met his subconsciously, which he accepted gladly.

“Go clean up,” He separates his kiss, “Don’t frown, I’ll make love to you again. But right now all I want is to cuddle with you. I miss our cuddles.”

Though you pouted, you eventually agreed, marching yourself to the bathroom.

Just before the first droplet touches your skin, you took a glimpse at the stationary and instantly surprised. You ran back to the bedroom, only covering yourself with a towel inattentively. 

“You still have my shower gel?”

You’re not even surprised by the sight of him all naked as he was about to go to the kitchen to fetch some water. He wasn’t embarrassed, though (well it’s not like he have any reason to feel so when he maintains his shape very well), as he replies to your remark with his chuckles, pleasing your ears.

“I used them sparingly.”

“You like them that much? You even filled them with water, Jaehyun. You can just buy them at stores, you know?”

He shook his head, “But that one was yours. I only use them at the weekend anyway, like how I would use them if we were still together. I don’t know, it just feel like you’re still around when I can smell your scent.”

If it were other guys you would squirm at his cheesy remark. But it was from Jaehyun, a man that is so dear to you. Who always do this tiny things that managed to touch your heart, making you ran to him and give him a hug.

“No wonder you smell familiar,” You inhaled his scent, “You smell like me.”

He laughed, fixing your disheveled hair, “To be honest, I made this rule to myself that I would only move on from you once I emptied the whole bottle. I guess I cheated a bit, but fortunately you came just in time,” He kisses your forehead gently, “I guess the goddess of luck is on my side, huh?”

You couldn’t help but to slap his chest, annoyed on how effortlessly cute his action was.

“You have to bear with me smelling like you though tonight, I’d rather use a proper shower gel.”

“I don’t mind, it’s still you.”

He rolled his eyes up, thinking.

“Unless… Do you want to go to the store tomorrow? Let’s stock up your toiletries. Oh, your toothbrush is still here so you don’t need to buy those. Maybe we can go to your apartment afterward, so you can bring a few of your clothes back.”

You glared at him, “Did you just ask me to move in again?”

Jaehyun smiles, “Maybe? As long as you don’t give up like now.”

“I won’t,” You embraced him tighter, your laughter was filled with joy, “Why do you always ask me to move in with you after we fuck?”

“Because both of us are horny all the time?”

You gave him another slap, this time making him laugh harder that he even scrunches his nose.

-

“Stop staring!”

You are finally agitated at the way Jaehyun’s eyes are locked in your direction. At first it was bearable, but you’re sweating from organizing your wardrobe and you don’t exactly look at your finest.

“But I just can’t believe you’re back, love.” He walks to you and hugs you from behind.

“Jaehyun!” You protested, “I’m sweating! Please, I probably smell!”

“Doesn’t matter,” He drops his head at the crook of your neck, kissing you softly, “As long as you’re here. I can’t believe we’re finally going to live together for real this time. Don’t bother finding your suitcase, I hid it where you can’t find it.”

You slapped him playfully at the way he acted spoiled. Five months after your confession, the day where you move to his place is finally here. Jaehyun has been pushing you to start packing, claiming he sleeps better when you’re next to him. He even proposed to hire multiple movers so that you can move a week after that night. A new side of Jaehyun that you discover –you never know he was this clingy. 

“I miss you.” He said on the other end of the phone.

“Jaehyun, I stayed over last night. You're even going to pick me up tomorrow morning to accompany me to the bank.”

“But I want to sleep while hugging you.” He whines like a puppy, “Can’t you just stay here? Take some days off, I’ll cover the moving cost. Just stay with me?”

“I know you’re loaded, Jaehyun.” You laugh at how impatient he is, “But let’s just take this slowly, OK? I want to make it right this time, and if we can settle this with the most efficient –cost-wise, why bother rushing? I lived in this place for years, you know? It would be quite sentimental for me to suddenly leave it behind.”

You heard him sigh, “Why do I have to date a smart woman like you.”

“I thought that’s the reason why you fell for me?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

After you guys are back together, Jaehyun is showering you with so much love. Telling you corny things that borderline cringed you, calling you nicknames that you can only hear from dramas.

But you know it is because he can finally relax. There’s no need to hide things. There’s no more burden from his father. Jaehyun is finally free, able to show his true self for the first time. And you are grateful that you can witness it, and stand next to him this time.

For the past few weeks, your weekends’ agenda has always been you dealing with the move. Today was the day you return your key to the landlord, and from this day onwards you’re going to stay with a man that is dear to you.

“I won’t leave, Jaehyun.” You said, caressing the top of his head. “At least now I know you’re not dangerous anymore.”

You pushed him to meet his gaze, “Aren’t you?”

He scoffed, “Of course, love.”

You squint your eyes, and there’s a hint of doubt in the way you look at him, “Your father is one thing, but what about the secret agent stuff?”

“I wasn't a part of it to begin with.” He tucks your hair, “My deal with them is to let me be a part of my father’s mission, and that mission only. In exchange, their members can work at my company while being undercover.”

You knit your brows together, “Isn’t that nepotism?”

“Well, no, actually,” He laugh, dragging you to the kitchen so he could get some water, “Even though I will eventually accept them as my employees, they are required to have the skills needed for the position. It’s practically the same thing with personal connection. I guess you can say I’m like the shadow member? I’m not active on the field, but that’s the best deal that we could come up with.”

You hummed, taking the glass of water that he offered, “But I don’t want you to be involved in any danger, OK? Mark is finally able to visit you –or us, without him having to shit out of his pants. He really misses his brother, you know? So don’t be reckless. I don’t want to lose you anymore.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am, I’m not that old, Jae.”

“Then what? Princess? Baby love?” 

“You only call me that when you’re on top of me or when I’m on top of you.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Don’t you sweat already? It would be a waste of water if you’re going to shower twice, should we shower together to conserve water?” He raised one of his brows, attempting on seducing you.

“Fucking sex addict!” You swatted his arm, causing him to laugh at your reaction.

“Oh come on babe, can’t we?”

“Jaehyun I swear ever since we’re back together all we did was fucking each other.”

“Your fault for tempting me. Told you I can’t have enough of you.”

“Not now, babe. Keep your libido intact, we still need to clear out these boxes, it gives me anxiety.”

You tied your hair to a top bun, ready to clear up the empty boxes that surround the kitchen island. Jaehyun rested his elbow to the countertop, eyes are glued to you.

And only to you.

“Marry me, [Y/N].”

Your first reaction was to drop the boxes, dropping your jaw. Jaehyun rushed to you and offers a helping hand.

“What the heck, Jaehyun?!”

He chuckles at your reaction.

“It’s not funny, Jae. Don’t joke around like that.”

“But I’m not, love.” He looks at your direction, giving you a deep meaningful stare.

“At least let me make myself proper. I’m wearing a God’s-know-how-old band t-shirt, no makeup, all sweaty, and I was just about to clean up. You even asked me to fuck you just now. Ever Google how to propose to your girlfriend, Jae?”

Soft giggles escape his mouth, “Believe me, I’ve planned a much more spectacular proposal.” He fixed his posture, reaching for your hand.

“But the moment I think how I’m going to spend my days with you at this house, doing even the most mediocre thing, I just can’t help to feel that I’m seriously in love with this woman. The woman unlike the rest of the people I’ve met before. Maybe it’s the way you laugh, and the way you look at me telling me that you’re in love. You’re so beautiful, sometimes I feel like I’m squeezing my luck just to be able to be with you.”

“You are the only one where I can be the truest version of me. And you accepted it. You are the only one that I could ever dream to live the rest of my life with. This person in front of me, who I care so much about, is the only one I could imagine to be the mother of my children.”

You are clearly unprepared for this. You can feel your face burning, eyes welled up.

“I-” He chokes up, trying to hold his own tears, “I thought after you left me, I would never be capable of loving someone again. It was painful, and I swear it felt like a truck just hit you without them hitting their break.”

“And yet, it’s always you. If there’s any word that could explain a greater feeling than ‘I love you’, I would use it. As if time stopped after I met you, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He then asks you to stand up, only for him to get down on his knees.

“It’s you, my love, because no one else makes sense. All of my better days were the one I spent with you.”

He then took a small red box out of his pants pocket, opening it to reveal a delicate platinum ring. The band is covered with diamonds and the brilliant-cut diamond center stone was the scene stealer.

“Because even in another life, no matter how difficult it is, I probably would just love you as recklessly. My heart never beat faster the way it beats when I’m with you.”

You tried to fight the tears that kept coming, but they refused to stop, making you busy wiping your eyes instead of looking him in the eyes.

“Stay with me, because I promise there would be no harm for you as long as I’m breathing. Be my wife, [Y/N].”

At that moment you know you don’t want to waste the rest of your life trying to find the answer. No man could love you the way Jaehyun did, because he is the one who will love you all the way.

At that moment, you found life. At that moment, you found him.

“Only if you’re sure to have me.” Your voice was crackling, trying to keep down your tears that’s been messing you up.

“I might be unsure about other things but never you, [Y/N].”

You gently nod as you accept his ring, and Jaehyun never felt any joy greater than this. He hugs you tightly, swinging you inside his embrace.

“Thank you, [Y/N], I promise I’ll treasure you.”

You can feel him trembling, and feel the wetness that does not belong to you on your shoulder. You look up only to find your now-fiancé eyes are red. This sight is no longer a stranger to you. Ever since you date him again, Jaehyun has been showing so many emotions with you.

You gave him a soft kiss on his lips. He reciprocated the kiss, biting you softly. It was the type of kiss that does not rush. It was the type of kiss that was gentle. The type of kiss that was filled with love.

“I love you so much, Jaehyun.”

“As I do too, love. I cannot wait to spend another seventy years, no, even longer with you.”

Of course, you know where he got his reference from, so you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Only if you promise you don’t hide anything from me anymore.”

Jaehyun joined you by adding his part of laughter.

“I promise.” He said, giving you another deep, long kiss.

“No more drama.”

[heli0s-writes]

V. The damn truth

Summary:  What is the damn truth?? AKA time to get those feelings out and stop being weird y'all. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N:  So I thought this was the last chapter, but it looks like we got one more, kiddos. More Cincy adventures and another further away. And more Steve time.

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

In the morning, you brew coffee and pour it into one mug set out next to two others. You’re surprisingly the first up, senses dulled and head lightly rickety with a loosened brain from last night’s whiskey. Venturing to the garden, you sit cross-legged on a chair and watch Buckeye roam across the grass, rubbing his back over the silky blades still damp with morning dew. 

It’s all green and lush under the summer sun as your eyes trail over to the steps leading down, disappearing into the glass sliding door of the lower living room. The tablet tucked under your arm gets propped up on the glass table and you begin to work. Even in summer, it never ends. 

I’m a way, you’re glad for it because it keeps you busy and tethered to something resembling a schedule. Would you rather lie in bed with Buckeye eating pretzels watching Netflix? Yeah. But your therapist keeps telling you its not healthy .. so… 

Your fingers are clicking away, focused on one window, typing notes into another when the rattling doorknob draws your attention to Steve exiting the house with a mug in his hand, blowing gently on the surface. 

“Hey.” He calls, looking up, then greets Buckeye with a scratch on his wet rump. 

You give him a smile because you don’t quite know what to say, choosing instead to watch your dog pad off again, as if him sniffing the same spot in the yard is more interesting. 

Steve sits down in the bench next to your chair, freshly showered in jeans and a grey t-shirt-- too small, as always. You’re fresh, too, changed into a pale blue jersey romper. “Did you sleep okay?” 

“Mhm,” You reply, but can’t help the way your eyes return to his chest where you rested your head just five hours before. 

Last night ended on a solemn note. The two of them went back to their room and you and Buckeye upstairs, all heavy-hearted and tired of reality. You remember dancing, and crying, and kissing. You remember feeling so shredded, thinking about them. You remember Steve’s warm lap and Bucky’s beard rubbing against your palm. 

 “C’mere,” Steve calls softly, reaching his hand over and tugging on the waistband of your outfit. You comply, carefully balancing the cup in your hand and sit down in his lap again. Your tummy is flipping, because Steve Rogers nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and wraps his arm around your waist. The denim of his jeans rubs against your thighs as he shifts and sets your coffee cup down. 

Change flutters all around you now, after taking flight last night. It hovers and clings, seeping into your skin like the humidity of morning. You’re not sure where or how to begin talking about this strange relationship, because you’ve never entertained the possibility of its arrival. 

Yes, Captain America is a thicc ass bitch and you’re hot for him, but Steve Rogers is your friend and you care for him more than you want to see if he’s actually a smooth-crotched Ken Doll. You can’t even start to think about Bucky right now, or else you might cry again. 

And certainly, to probe the intricacies of their relationship in order to carve a space for yourself is something so unbearably selfish you would never dream of doing it.  

“What—um, what is—” You pause because the rest of this sentence could push your friendship in any way and you’re fearful of every way. 

“Don’t think about it too much.” Steve comments as you tense inside of his grasp, “We try not to.” Then, he laughs, “I suppose that doesn’t help you feel better, huh.” 

Your arms wrap around yourself and they come to rest on his forearms. “I like what we have. I don’t want to get between what the two of you have. It’s… a massive, wonderful thing-- deep, and—” 

Steve shushes you, “Buck and I really do like you. You’re not intruding on anything.” And then, he turns you so that he’s facing your side and not your back. One hand slides up your face and then his mouth is on yours … and is it too stupid to say that when Captain America kisses you, fireworks pop off in your brain and some patriotic tune   starts blasting itself in the background? 

He tastes like coffee and freedom. Breath warm and sweet like a breeze on the 4th of July— saltwater taffy and the outdoors. There’s an eagle screeching proudly in the distant void of your mind. 

Suddenly, Steve pulls away and you’re sure your face is stuck in some tragically half-frozen mask of sheer dumbstruck. 

“Are you humming America the Beautiful right now?” He asks, incredulous. 

“Huh.” You respond, dazed, “I thought that was just in my head.” 

He tilts back laughing and takes you along with him, your shoulder crashing into his chest and your head knocking into his as you flail, trying to catch yourself. Steve holds on tightly, fingers digging into your arm and thigh—and when the hell did he get fresh and put his hand there? Sly fuck. 

“Wanted to do this for a while now.” He grins as he pulls your face down onto his once more. It is a shock to you that Captain America, the Star-Spangled sunofabitch, can kiss like it’s his damn job. His tongue is in your mouth.  Your heart feels like a gerbil spinning wildly on a wheel and might burst out of your chest any moment until— 

The rattling of the doorknob for a second time this morning catches you off guard. You yank back, fearfully aware that Steve’s spit is glistening on your lips. And goddamn, it is hot. 

Bucky joins with a mug of coffee in hand and slides the door shut. He steps past the doormat and plops down on your old seat, crosses his left ankle on his other knee and stares off into the yard as if he’s there alone. As if you’re not pitched over and crushed against his partner’s chest while one of his hands is so high up your thigh it’s practically on your ass. 

“Morning,” he grunts, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Mornin, Buck.” Steve replies breezily, and you can feel his mouth twist into a smile against your collarbone. “How’s your coffee?” 

Bucky takes another sip impassively, “Pretty good. A little burnt. How’s your lap?” 

You shoot up and nearly knock the whole table over as you brush your clothes off with a nervous laugh, “Well! I’m going to… Jesus. Christ. Uh. Let’s uh. Meet me at the car in fifteen minutes and we can go get breakfast. Or church. Fuck me with a broom.” Your brain is a bag of ferrets thrown into a dumpster fire. 

The door slams shut as you nearly break the entire frame running inside and Steve sends Bucky a shit-eating grin before patting the thigh you were just on top of. 

“You gonna come take her place over here, or what?” 

— 

Breakfast is weird. It’s weird like The Twilight Zone is weird.  

You’ve opted to leave your hair down for today, letting as much of it cover your face as possible because if either one of them looks at you, you think you might just combust. You’re ready to go back to being a bastard at any time now, but your nerves are wringing themselves into knots. Another pancake gets cut into a triangle by your fork. 

And then Steve steals it right off your plate. 

“You candy-ass mother-!” You yelp defensively. 

“There she is!” He replies, stuffing it in his mouth and pointing at you with the prongs. Bucky only raises his eyebrow behind a glass of water. “I thought we were past this.” Steve urges. 

No, making out on the patio is not equivalent to a conversation about joining a relationship as the fucking third partner, you think. Your eyes say as much as you glare at your plate and then up to Bucky, pleading with him to help you. 

“Don’t look at me,” Bucky shrugs, “I wasn’t the one playing tongue hockey with ya.” The fork in your hand clatters as you shove your face in your palms with a groan. Absolute filthy bastard. He’s chomping on hashbrowns open-mouthed as he looks at you expressionlessly. Could anyone be more annoying? Probably not. 

“Well, she did tell you she loved you twice.”  Steve points out, “So maybe I’m not the one who should be playing tongue hockey with her.”  Never mind, apparently Steve can be more annoying. Figures. 

The neckline of your romper is now pulled completely over your face until only your hairline is visible. Inside of your albeit thin, but somewhat safe space, you groan as your entire body rises to sweltering degrees.  

“You guys are bullies.” You complain. 

“What’s that, hon?” Steve asks— and you can just hear him smiling. “Didja say somethin’?” 

“I think she called us bullies, Stevie.” 

“Bullies?! Sweetheart, you made us listen to Sad n Sexy Santa for two hours on the drive here and would not stop screaming until we let you sing along.” 

You’d never imagine Steve Rogers as someone who would so easily distribute pet names like this, but apparently once you cross the bridge of sucking on each other’s face, they don’t stop coming.  

Your stomach is fluttering unbearably, but you snark back anyway, “Sad n Sexy Santa  is a true effort of musical talent,” you proclaim, still glaring at the darkness under your romper. “Christmas songs sung in a minor key changes both the tune and the connotation of their lyrical content. Have you ever thought that “All I Want For Christmas Is You” could be so unsettling? Didn’t think so!” 

A sharp tug is all it takes for your head to return to the world and Bucky’s arm fixes the wide collar so that your bralette isn’t exposed for the entire café to see. “Stop being a baby.” He scolds. 

“You !! Baby !” Nice. 

They both sit back against the opposite booth, arms crossed, smirking, as you pretend to enjoy your meal under their scrutiny. Oh, how the tables have turned, you lament. This is just divine punishment, after two months of being the most infuriating person to them, now they’re giving you a double dose of your own medicine.  

“I love eating breakfast by myself.” You announce out loud, reaching over to take some of Steve’s bacon, “Love getting three plates just for me.” 

Bucky’s laugh makes your ears go bright pink the same time your teeth crush the sliver of meat in your hand. 

-- 

The Cincinnati Zoo returns you to sweeter childhood memories of elementary field trips where the kids went ballistic and the adults spent most of their time counting heads. Your parents never partook in chaperoning, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it. 

Today, the weather is overcast, and upon the first drop of rain, Steve goes inside a merchandise store to buy two umbrellas. He returns just a bit too late and there is already a huge downpour, soaking half of Bucky’s arm who’s standing over you, acting as a shield when the awning of the building across the store isn’t enough.  

“Get over here!” You’re yelling, tugging on Bucky’s sleeve and stomping your foot, “What’s the point of you getting wet just so I don’t get wet? You’re so stupid!”  

Steve watches him relent with a smile as he opens his umbrella and tosses the second one to Bucky. Then, the three of you trek through puddles and make your way to the covered exhibits. 

Fiona the hippo is asleep in a little alcove of her aquarium, head tucked away. You explain to them the majesty of Fiona’s sonogram, birth, and her subsequent celebrity, but they don’t understand her like you do. They can’t even see the damn creature, Bucky scoffs, but you glare at him and he rolls his eyes away. 

You coo and tut, waggling your finger when her tail flops side-to-side and her back legs kick. When she has a bowel movement in her sleep and it disperses into the very water she’s resting in, you back up and gag, pushing Steve and Bucky away. 

“Alright, let’s go look at some other chonkers.” You proclaim as you lead them to the manatees.  

 Three enormous, alabaster, and smooth-skinned sea cows float serenely in the murky blue. Two of them have green heads of lettuce clenched between their flippers and are chomping away, bits of leaves floating around their heads like vegetable halos.  

You press your hand against the glass and sigh. Steve and Bucky step closer, looking down curiously when you wipe at the corner of your eye. “Look at these giant fuckers.” You whisper, “I haven’t known peace like that since I was a fetus.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, “God, you’re dramatic.” 

It’s quiet in the chamber with only the faint splashing of the rain falling on the water outside and plunking drips from your umbrella onto the concrete floor. Between a family’s departure and before the next one’s arrival, Bucky pushes you up against the glass and kisses you in front of an audience of marine mammals and Steve Rogers’ smirk. 

“How’s that for peace?” He mutters, mouth still pressed against yours. Your heart is thumping in your ears like a battle-drum. Bucky snags your bottom lip with his teeth and licks the sting away.  

“I think you—” you gulp, feeling your bottom lip snap back into place and giving it a slow suck just to see if it’s still there, “maybe need to consult a dictionary. But—you know, good try...” 

-- 

They are relentless. 

In the café while eating greasy cheese and ham sandwiches and cold vegetables, they take turns knocking their knees into yours, grazing your thighs and legs. 

Between the big cats and the painted dogs, Steve squeezes your waist and rests his hand there until you shuffle away.  

Under the shelter of a tree by the elephants, Bucky blows on your ear and laughs when you shriek in surprise. Good God Almighty. There are goosebumps all over your skin even though you are burning. 

-- 

Bucky drives home after deftly fishing the keys out of your bag. He could have thrown a grenade in there and you wouldn’t have noticed, being too distracted by the big and daunting reality of being… whatever it is you are now.  

Currently, Steve rides shotgun, glancing back to you once or twice every few minutes as you gaze out the window. The rain only let up a couple of minutes ago as all three of you exhausted every open exhibit at the zoo. Your feet are blistered from the repeated chafing of your toes against the wet front of your sandals, and the bottom of them hurt like the devil.  

A tiny buzz alerts you to the phone tucked away in your pocket. 

Natasha: So, you guys fucking yet?  

Your heart leaps into your mouth. 

You: What the fuck!!!! Did you plan this? You have cursed me, Natasha. I am broiling in the deepest layer of hell and they are feasting on my bones you asshole!  

Natasha:That’s too kinky even for me. Enjoy being feasted upon. Later.  

Steve twists his head around like a goddamn owl and looks at you, “Everything okay?” 

You refuse to meet his gaze, “Uh-huh.” 

Bucky finds your eyes closed tightly the rear view. “Are you actually shy ?” He ponders, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. When you say nothing, he continues, “I would have never guessed if I hadn’t seen it first-hand. Today.” 

“Be quiet.” You groan. 

“Don’t be like that, princess,” he chides, pulling into the driveway. “You’re a pretty good liar.” 

“You’re a pretty good liar! Heh!” You sneer back, imitating the way his voice might sound if he inhaled a lungful of helium. When the car stops and Bucky shuts off the engine, he turns around through the middle console and sends you a fanged grin, reminiscent of the way he snarled at you the first time he came to your apartment. 

Then he’s out the door, closing it with a quiet bang. Steve whistles lowly and looks over his shoulder, “You’re in for it now.” 

-- 

Bucky throws you into the pool.  

He at least has the decency to take your phone out of your pocket before he chucks you in like a dead fish. Since it’s drizzled all day, the water is cold as all fuck and when it hits your back the shock stifles the scream wrenched from your throat. 

You resurface with a shriek, teeth chattering as you break the water and try to swim to the edge. You can barely get your hair out of your face before an enormous splash creates a wave that slams itself on the top of your head. Another cannonball goes into the blue and by the time your eyes are dry enough to see what the fuck is going on, you’re sandwiched between them and the cold slips right out of your skin. 

Steve’s hands have faithfully returned to your legs where the opening of your romper floats around in the chilling water. The tips of your toes are pointed, and your mouth is barely above the splashes of chlorine licking at your chin. Bucky and Steve are standing flat on their feet, barely wet at their collarbones. 

“Better hold on, ‘less you’re interested in drownin’.” Bucky teases. A mouthful gets spit out onto his neck and for a second you think maybe that point is worth it until Steve picks you up by the waist and dumps you two inches left and the water goes right over your head. 

You scramble and splash, regretting not taking those swimming classes seriously because all you can do is (sort of) float on your back and doggy paddle for about three minutes. Bucky chuckles when you finally relent and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your burning face into his sopping hair. 

“Is this your idea of getting me wet.” You mumble as your cheeks scorch against him. Steve is behind you, kissing your nape until you lean back onto his shoulder too, both inflamed and anxious by their rapt attention. 

“Is it working?” Steve asks, and your silence is enough of an answer all on its own. You feel as if you might be brave enough to look up into Bucky’s eyes, maybe kiss him again, but a third and final cannonball crashes into the tranquil waves and then Buckeye breaks the water with a series of grunts and pants.  

His fat head bobs up and down as he paddles about, tongue hanging limply from his jaw. As he makes his way past the three of you staring blankly at him, Buckeye gives Steve’s face a long, slow lick.  

You swear you can hear Captain America faintly call your dog a “goddamn cockblock”. 

-- 

Steve is in the shower when you snuggle up with Buckeye on the couch. A thick wool blanket covers your bare legs as you lean over, placing your head on your dog’s coiled body. He’s still a little damp from pool water, and the velvet grey of his coat is speckled with dark splotches. From downstairs, Bucky arrives, wet hair behind his ears and quietly lifts your dog up and places him on the sofa couch across from the coffee table. He smells like peppermint body wash.  

The sudden thought of him wearing red and white and kissing you under a mistletoe wriggles into your brain and you could scream. Instead, you steel yourself, scold the fantasy until it leaves.  

Your head lays on Buckeye’s former seat, dampening the leather, staring up into the ceiling.  

Bucky wordlessly smooths the blanket over your legs, sits down on the floor, and props his head up on his arms until he’s looking into your eyes. “Hey,” he says, biting on the tiniest bit of his bottom lip in a way uncharacteristic of him—nervous, careful. “Y’know, if this is too much—say somethin’—I’d rather be your friend than nothing at all.”  

A smirk tugs the corner of your lip and he huffs at the sight of it, waiting for a comment but still, he feels uneasy. You’re not looking at him, not yet, at least. It’s still up in the air if you’ll laugh or cry; your emotions have become overwrought when thinking of them. The quips here and there have been tiny little bandages over the aching wound. 

“C’mon,” Bucky whispers, “Thought you were gonna be bastard about it.”  

“Sorry…” You mutter, turning to face him. A single tear drops out and rolls over your nose bridge, plunking down onto the leather. “I think I am... feeling both overwhelmed and…” You close your eyes, trying to find your words. “I think I’m also feeling inadequate.” 

Bucky’s brow furrows, creating fine creases on his forehead. 

“I guess as a normal person, now faced with something … very serious-- two entire lives that have started  way  before me and will last long after me, I’m just wondering how exactly I will fit? It’s certainly selfish... ” 

“It’s not.”  

A jerk of your mouth catches his gaze, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You laugh, knowing fully well that the statement sounds silly because he’s right in front of you now, as he’s been for the past few days. And your comment makes it seem like he’s leagues away. “I want you to be happy. I think you‘ve spent so long not being, I just want you to be happy.”  

Against your better judgement, you turn until your entire body is facing him and brush your fingers along his chin, then trail up until you are holding onto the side of his neck, thumb under his ear. Bucky smiles that lopsided boyish smile at you, set in the angular, firm face of a man, and closes his eyes. 

“Thanks.” 

He opens them, letting the gray-blue dance over your features. You feel brave again, because Bucky Barnes is inches away, looking at you like you could be part of his world. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his softly. He is already a part of  your  world, more ingrained than you ever thought could be in the short time you’ve known him.  

You kiss him again. For good measure. And then again, for luck, maybe. “You know I meant it, last night.” You sigh against his mouth, “I do love you two.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky dismisses it playfully as he lifts himself up just a little more to hover over your face, turning so that his mouth slants on yours just right. “No time to talk now, darlin’.”  

He scrubs his beard against your neck, and you start giggling uncontrollably at the way it tickles. His nose brushes against your ear and his tongue traces your jaw before he peppers kisses up to your mouth. His fingers tap a staccato of morse code up and down your sides as you squeal.  

Who knew The Winter Soldier could be so... cute? 

“I’m ready for a nap!” Steve calls from the hallway, stopping short of interrupting the moment. “Think all of us can fit on the bed?” 

“Steve, man, it’s like evening time.” Your voice is muffled against Bucky’s face once more as he takes the opportunity to kiss you again. 

“I’m trying to find an excuse to lie down,” Steve grumbles. You hear his footsteps stop behind Bucky as he peers over his shoulder and into your upside-down face. “Will ya come to bed or not?” 

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you hide behind Bucky’s hair. “Well, fuckin’ twist my arm...”  

-- 

Steve sleeps like the dead. It’s comical how he sprawls out and snores softly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And maybe he doesn’t, now that he’s retired. 

You and Bucky have moved to one side where he lies with one arm tucked behind his head and the other one under yours. He tells you Steve usually isn’t so ridiculous, sleeping very lightly and wakes up at the slightest noise, but now there’s a conversation being carried centimeters away from his face and he’s not stirred at all.  

Bucky smiles at this, says thank god, he needs it. 

“He’s gonna be up at three bouncing off the walls.” You warn. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’ll sprint fifty miles and go to bed.” 

“Jesus, why?” 

“Super serum bullshit, and because he’s a show-offy asshole.” 

“Aren’t you... also serum-ed?”  

“Yeah, but I also love my bed.” 

At that, you whistle, “Man after my own heart.” 

His face lights up as he turns to peer at you resting on the crook of his arm, leaning so that the top of your head is barely on his chest. “Oh yeah?” The silly conversation takes a turn when Bucky tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, finding excuse to let his fingers roam along the edge of your eyebrow, trailing down until he’s past your cheek, further down to your shoulder.  

It’s his left hand that’s touching you, the cold metal of the appendage sending shivers down your back. You can’t help but gaze at the way it reflects the setting sun slipping through the cracks of your blinds. 

The hand under your head is shifted until he’s propping himself up on it.  

Your mouth goes drier each time he squeezes your arm, closing your eyes to concentrate on the contradicting sensations—your warm body, his cold hand, quickly losing its chill. He travels down, down, until his palm is on your hip, then your thigh, then, ghosting between your legs. 

Against your back is Steve, sighing softly. 

“I feel like I’m living out the thirst tweet ‘bout your arm.” You mutter, eyes closing with a tremulous shudder. Bucky laughs, fingers diving between your thighs, hand wrapping over one. 

“You got a thing for getting choked, too?” It’s a joke, but he pinches your flesh and when your tummy flutters, you suddenly grow a bit afraid of your own desires.  

Behind you, Steve stirs. “Don’t let him do it.” His gravelly voice pipes up, muffled by the pillow his cheek is pressed against, “He toes the line of erotic asphyxiation too closely.” Then, he turns, spooning you, and falls back asleep. 

Why the fuck does Captain America know anything about erotic asphyxiation. 

Bucky is laughing again, pulling you to his chest before he stills. “I wouldn’t. Unless you really wanted it.”  

“Jesus would you stop.” You mumble, but peek up at him anyway, lips parting in anticipation. He gives it to you, curling his hand around the back of your neck and murmuring nonsense into your mouth. Witticisms that you quickly bite off with a teasing snap of teeth. Bucky pulls away with a sound of surprise. 

“Oh, kitten. You got claws, huh?” 

You show him your canines. “Always had ‘em, bee-itch.” He doesn’t know how a person can make the word  bitch  into two annoying—maybe endearing— syllables, but you’ve done it. 

Bucky laughs joyfully, smothers his face into the pillow like he doesn’t want you to see, because Bucky Barnes’ reputation as a stone-cold motherfucker has been completely ripped to shreds in your hands and he is trying desperately to retain some semblance of it. 

You grab his face, grinning, eager to see that winsome smile of his.  

“Fuck, I like you.” He says with a chuckle. 

“Aw, don’t be a bee-itch, Buck.” Steve calls from your back, apparently not asleep after all. “Tell ‘er the damn truth!” Your spine picks up the humidity of his breath, shivers running all the way up to your neck when he kisses your shoulder blade with sloppy presses of his mouth. 

In the sunset glow, Bucky groans dramatically as you and Steve wait, smirks shared between two utter bastards, he thinks. He groans and groans and when he’s out of one long breath he picks up another. 

“Fine, fine.” He relents finally, letting you bask in the glory of that gorgeous wide mouth, stretched so sweetly. He laughs.  

“I love you too. Twist my fuckin’ arm.”  

Next

[soopersara]

57 and/or 76!

Me? Finally filling a request I got 5 months ago? You’d better believe it! (I’ll do both prompts eventually, but for now): 

Dragons

AO3 | FFN

Prompt #57 from this list, originally Day 1 of Zutara Week 2016

Zuko and Katara revive a forgotten Fire Nation tradition to solidify their engagement.

⁂

"Come on, Zuko. I'm sure this will be fine. Druk loves me."

Zuko let out a gusty sigh. He should have known better than to let Katara waste her time digging through the royal archives. Little good had ever come from his family, even before Sozin's time.

"That's different." He watched the flame in his hand rise and fall in time with his breathing. Steadier than the last time he was here, steadier and brighter and more fluid, more alive. "Druk thinks you're his mother."

"Or maybe I just have a way with dragons. You don't know."

"All I'm saying is that you don't have to go through with this. There's a reason why my family stopped asking Ran and Shaw for approval before marriage."

"And all I'm saying is that you can't change my mind." Katara paused long enough to cup her free hand around his scarred cheek, and gave him a dazzling smile. "Nice try, though."

Zuko groaned as she marched on ahead. "You know you don't have to prove anything," he called after her.

"I'm not trying to prove anything," she called back.

Zuko rolled his eyes and took the steps two at a time until he caught up with her. In the pale light of predawn, her hovering tendril of water gave off enough light that he could almost convince himself that it was a flame.

Almost.

The records had been a little unclear about what the dragons expected in this situation—firebenders seeking instruction had to bring an offering from the eternal flame, he knew that from experience, but marriage blessings? No matter how hard they looked, neither of them had been able to find the specifics of the old ritual.

But Katara wasn't a firebender anyway, and she insisted that a gift of water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole was just as good as a piece of the eternal flame.

It wasn't that Zuko disagreed necessarily. Katara was usually right about things like this. But they weren't here for lessons, and even Druk was unpredictable. Ran and Shaw—they had roasted people alive. Including a few generations of Zuko's ancestors. He couldn't decide whether he was glad that information had made it into the old royal scrolls or not.

"You remember everything we worked on?"

Katara pursed her lips. "Zuko. Master waterbender, remember? Best in the world? Of course I remember." She smiled and bumped him with her shoulder. "Hey. You went ice dodging for me. And did the midwinter spirit vigil. I can handle this."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Zuko muttered.

As they climbed higher, the sticky summer air gave way to the chill of the sky, and Katara's step lightened despite the thinner air. She thrived on this.

Zuko trailed along beside her, wordless as the valley fell away beneath them, the remains of the Sun Warrior's ancient city shrinking to doll-like proportions. They crested the stairs together and stepped onto the platform at the same instant.

Katara paused, the early morning light casting a silvery sheen over her face as she looked back down the way they'd come. Her gaze turned back to Zuko.

"This is it," she said, her tone a little breathless, her eyes bright. Her orb of water twisted itself into a spiral before she shaped it back into an approximation of a flame.

Zuko nodded, drawing a steadying breath. "This is it," he agreed.

"Hundreds of generations before us—" She turned on the spot, her loose curls catching the breeze. "It's like I can still feel them here." She turned back to Zuko. "It's so beautiful."

He nodded again and tried not to stare too hard at her. The scenery was nothing in comparison with her. He pulled his eyes away and they landed on the faint, smoky marks that years—centuries—of rain had yet to wash away from the ornate platform. That wasn't entirely helpful. Seeing ancient evidence of the dragons' wrath was a far less pleasant form of distraction.

Zuko pointed to a mark on the ground. "You stand there." He crossed the platform to the matching symbol and gave a silent prayer to all the spirits he knew that they hadn't been too far off in their guesses about the ritual. "The second the sun touches the horizon—"

She nodded and settled into her stance. A mischievous smile flashed across her face. "Sure you're ready for this, Fire Lord?"

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch despite his best effort to keep it still. "More ready than you, Master. Remember I've done this before."

Katara gave him another quick smile before she turned her concentration back to her water.

Zuko broadened his stance and dragged his attention back to the flame in his hand, to the tiny, endless pulse that echoed his own. He exhaled, slow and steady, and felt the flame swell in response.

He was ready.

He felt the sun reach the horizon before he saw it, and the flame in his hand blossomed into a burning globe. Across the platform, Katara mirrored him, shaping her water into a shimmering sphere.

Inhale. He stepped forward, his back turned toward the center of the platform, and pulled the flames in near his chest. Exhale. Another step, and he pushed the flames up and out.

This wasn't firebending in the usual way. This was nothing like what his childhood tutors, or Uncle, or even the dragons themselves had taught him. It couldn't be. Water didn't behave like fire, and fire didn't behave like water. But there was a point of balance between the two, a point where the two disciplines intersected, where Katara's water would flicker and dance along with his flames, where his fire would flow, smooth and steady, along with her water. It was a well-practiced dance by now, and the movements came as naturally as breathing.

When they were halfway through the sequence, there was a rumbling from the caverns at either end of the platform, a rumbling that cut straight through to his core. He didn't flinch, and across the platform, he caught a glimpse of Katara, equally unshaken. Despite the approach of the ancient dragons, it felt like their weeks of practice at the palace, moving in a careful sequence around the edges of the gardens while Druk pranced between them, rearing up and trying to catch stray water droplets and sparks on his forked tongue.

They worked their way clear around the rim of the circular platform, then inward until they met in the center and came to a stop. Zuko twisted his flame into the shape of a dragon, and Katara did the same. Together, they sent both dragon-shapes whirling in an upward spiral, higher and higher until they reached the limits of their bending and both dragons broke apart simultaneously.

Katara beamed up at him, her hair lightly mussed by the wind, and a wide, breathless smile on her face. For a moment, Zuko forgot Ran and Shaw. He wanted to kiss Katara, to cradle her face in his hands and lean in so close that he could feel the soft warmth radiating from her face. He wanted to be so close that he could bask in the glow of her exhilaration.

Instead, Zuko smiled back, and with a small nod, they both turned outward, bowing low to the dragons. Then they faced one another once again and bowed a second time.

For a long moment, everything was silent. The dragons waited, watching them from the bridges that led back to their caverns. Even the wind seemed to still.

Drawing a deep breath, Zuko closed his eyes. Calm settled over him, and he found Katara's hand. Ran and Shaw were about to make their decision, but they were together. That was what mattered. As long as they were together, nothing could go too wrong.

The silence shattered with a roar from both sides, and Zuko opened his eyes to see the dragons—both of them—bearing down of the platform. Zuko stepped instinctively closer to Katara, bracing himself to shield her. She stepped closer too, and her free hand raised ever so slightly, ready to pull a deluge straight from the air.

But as the dragons came closer, they never attacked. They never threatened to. Instead, they crawled around the rim of the platform, massive claws scraping against the stone, eyeing the two of them and tasting the air.

The blue dragon was the first to break out of the circle and approach. It kept its head low, gliding just a few feet over the ground until it was near enough to sniff Katara's hem. Its tongue flicked out the same way Druk's did when he was curious.

Zuko tightened his grip on Katara's hand, and she squeezed back. Neither of them wavered as the blue dragon continued its investigation, as the red dragon slowly crept forward to join its curious mate. For a while, they both circled close, inspecting Zuko and Katara from every possible angle.

Then, as the sun rose higher in the sky and the shadows began to shrink, both dragons halted their circling and came to stand side by side in front of Zuko and Katara.

Katara moved first, a small step forward with her free hand outstretched.

The blue dragon bowed its head just enough to allow Katara's hand to rest on its snout.

"I'm not a firebender," she said quietly. "I never will be. And I know I'm not the person the rest of the world had in mind to rule beside Zuko."

The blue dragon puffed out a gust of hot, moist air, and its enormous golden eyes bored straight into her.

"But a long time ago, you decided that Zuko was worthy of knowing your secrets. Now he's chosen me, and I've chosen him. I hope you can trust our choice enough to give me your blessing."

Ran and Shaw looked at one another as though conferring, and Zuko kept his grip on Katara's hand firm. He would fight for her if he needed to. He would use his body as a shield—he'd done it before, and he'd do it a thousand more times. He had chosen Katara. He would always choose her.

In tandem, both dragons turned their faces to the sky and unleashed a roar of what sounded like triumph. Plumes of flame erupted from their mouths, but it was nothing like the first time Zuko had faced them—this time, the flames from each dragon remained distinct, two ropes of colored fire rotating around one another, whirling outward until they nearly eclipsed the sky.

When the flames finally dispersed, Zuko glanced down at Katara. She was smiling, eyes bright. He was smiling too, he realized. He couldn't help it.

Ran and Shaw lowered their heads again and lumbered back toward their respective caves, and Zuko felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Wide-eyed, Katara watched until the dragons were gone, then laughed and threw her arms around him. "It worked! Just wait until your council hears about this!"

A startled laugh burst out of Zuko too as he returned her embrace. "I thought you weren't trying to prove anything to them."

Katara pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes. The glow of the morning sun turned her skin to copper and glinted off the beads in her hair—both blue and gold now. "I wasn't. But if you think I'm not going to gloat, you don't know me very well."

He let his arms tighten around her and leaned his cheek down against the top of her head. "I can't wait to see their faces."

Katara pulled away and found his hand. "Come on, Fire Lord. Let's go tell them the bad news." Even without seeing her face, he could hear the smile in her voice. "They're stuck with me now."

"You're going to be the best thing that ever happened to the Fire Nation," he told her. When she looked back over her shoulder, he couldn't help but smile again. "You already are."

[achievingelysium]

Legacies

A remix of One Day by @rage-crystals​; written for the VLD Fanfic Remix 2017.

by: achieving elysium [main blog] summary: On the edge of the crater, Alfor stands with Zarkon. He can see glory a lion will bring, can taste the blood of battle, bitter on his tongue. In his hands—in their hands—rests a universe ripe for the taking. 

There is no room for fear, he thinks. And between him and Zarkon, there is none.

The story of a king told in eight parts.

notes: this was written pre-s3 and features ambiguous relationships as well as Zarkon/Alfor. AO3 Link.

King is a heavy title, but Alfor bears it well.

It’s one he takes on with no hesitation. He is born to be one—it’s written in the stars—and so a king Alfor is.

He dismisses Coran and listens for the sound of the door shutting before he crosses over to the tall mirror on the wall. On the table, Coran’s left his crown and cape.

Alfor fastens the cape first, a deep blue the color of water. The colors seem to shift in shadow. Then he fits his crown on his head, considering himself in the mirror for a moment.

“You are a king,” he tells his reflection. His eyes bore back into him, and Alfor smiles.

The party has only just begun when Alfor sweeps in. Still, he’s the last royal to arrive; the other four stand as he takes slow, measured steps, each one the epitome of regality.

“Ah, Alfor,” Zarkon says. He extends a hand, and Alfor grips it, grinning.

Zarkon doesn’t smile back — no, the Galra never show much emotion, but there’s a pleased look in his eye.

“Zarkon,” he replies. “You are too kind. Three quintants, and still we are feasting like the kings we are.”

“Indeed,” the High Priestess says. “Truly, I thank you.”

“I do not want to be an ungracious host,” Zarkon says smoothly. He gestures at the table filled with dish after dish of delicacies, and Alfor takes his seat to Zarkon’s right.

Halfway through dinner, there’s an unsettled murmuring of their guests. When Alfor looks up, he catches the tail end of a meteor, sparking bright as it tears through the atmosphere.

He sets down his fork as blue flame bursts across the sky. Alfor can feel it calling to him — there is something different about this night.

“We should go see where it lands,” he suggests, not worried about overstepping his boundaries as he puts a hand on Zarkon’s arm. Alfor smiles brightly at him. “The universe is calling for us.”

Across the table, the High Priestess of Qataar nods.

“I, too, hear its call,” she says, voice low.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Lwain's king says.

Zarkon rises from the head of the table, and the entire hall goes silent.

"Then you do not have to go," he says, his voice carrying a sense of finality. Alfor stands with him, and so does the High Priestess.

"Come," Zarkon says, beckoning, so they follow.

They take a small but spacious pod, the ship silent as it glides over the land. Alfor keeps his eyes trained on the meteor, watching it draw closer and closer.

When it hits the ground, the entire world shakes. They stop for a moment; his ears are ringing, and his bones feel rattled. But there is an energy in the air he cannot ignore.

"Quickly," he says, and Zarkon straightens in his seat. "We have to see it."

The three of them stand together around the meteor. It’s enormous, easily the size of Alfor’s ballroom. And more than anything, Alfor finds it beautiful — black as ink, and dotted with gold flecks like the stars in the night sky.

“We need to do something about this,” Zarkon says. “I cannot have this on my planet without touching it.”

Alfor steps forward and runs his fingers over the surface. It thrums with potential, and in his mind, he thinks he hears a lion’s roar.

He turns to Zarkon.

“We should make it into a lion.”

“I beg your pardon,” the High Priestess interrupts. “A lion? And how do you propose to do that? I have seen your lions — they are not nearly the size of this rock. And what would be the purpose of said lion?”

But one look at Zarkon reveals that they share the same thoughts.

“It will be a war machine,” Zarkon says. “Capable of destroying planets.”

Capable, he thinks, of bringing the universe to its knees. Capable of harnessing his beloved stars themselves. Capable of war, yes, but also of peace.

“Indeed,” is his only response.

On the edge of the crater, Alfor stands with Zarkon. He can see glory a lion will bring, can taste the blood of battle, bitter on his tongue. In his hands—in their hands—rests a universe ripe for the taking.

The High Priestess takes a step back, fear lining her movements.

There is no room for fear, he thinks. And between him and Zarkon, there is none.

ii.

The Meteor Lion is Altea’s most beautiful creation. Black and silver, with glints of red. Alfor even crowns him in gold, shaping it until it is a Lion fit for a king.

“Soon,” he promises Zarkon.

When the time comes, Alfor steps forward, followed by a set of his trusted friends. Coran hovers anxiously, but stays back in the distance as Alfor calls for the process to begin.

They fill the Lion with quintessence, and Alfor spirals into his magic. He is in his body yet not; energy pulses beneath his hands, and after a moment, he begins to think it sounds like a heartbeat.

He and his people stumble backwards, and Coran rushes to him, gripping his arm.

“Alright?”

Alfor doesn’t answer, staring hungrily up at the Lion, waiting for his creation to come to life. The entire world seems to hold its breath. Far away, from a castle balcony, he knows Zarkon is waiting, too.

And then the Lion raises to his feet and lets out a roar that tears through him. Alfor falls to his knees, victory ringing in his ears.

After a few moments, Zarkon is there, too, kneeling with him. Alfor raises his eyes to his friend.

“The Meteor Lion will bond with a pilot who is a strong leader and whose people will follow without question,” he whispers. “It’s so no one else can pilot it but you, Zarkon.”

Yes, yes, the stars sing. Zarkon, pilot of the Black One, emperor. History calls for you.

It is the first time Alfor sees Zarkon smile.

“Thank you, Alfor,” he says. “I am in your debt.”

Four other meteors follow the first, as if it is a chain reaction that starts with the black one. The second one falls to Altea, the third to Qataar, the fourth to Olkari, and the last to Lwain.

Alfor is travelling when he hears the news and orders his ship to turn. Not home, to Altea—but instead to Galra.

“If that’s not a sign from Divinity, I don’t know what is,” he says excitedly, pressing forward. “Five meteors, each landing on the most influential planets of our generation. Five meteors—we can create a super-weapon, five Lions to form one.”

“We’ve got a theme going with the Meteor Lion,” the Qataaran High Priestess said. “Can we even still call it that? They’d all be meteor lions. Anyway, the— Galra Lion, it’s got leadership qualities— Alfor, could you use your divine powers to give the other meteor lions traits for the ultimate super soldier? There are five. It can’t be too difficult. And they’d need to work in tandem, too.” She trailed off. “There is so much to think about in this situation. It is unprecedented in all of our histories.”

“Indeed,” the Olkari representative said. “I propose calling them different colors for simplicity. Ours shall be the Green lion, for the mighty forest we found its meteor in. I believe they all should have unique powers, such as land, and forest, and fire. So on.”

Zarkon rubbed his hands together.

“The pilots should be able to defend themselves, in case their Lions fall.”

Alfor gritted his teeth. The Lions were to be infallible, and as one, they would reach levels the universe had never seen before. There was no need.

“Alfor, you should be able to make weapons that echo our souls, right?”

“That’s your expertise, not mine,” he says finally. “And the Lions won’t fall.”

The High Priestess stares at the sky.

“We’ll call it Voltron,” she announces decisively. “After the angel.”

Voltron, harbringer of death — but also protector of those who were brave enough to ask. A fitting name.

“Voltron,” he says, lifting his face to the sky. “Voltron.”

iii.

Later finds him and Zarkon alone on the balcony, staring at the stars.

“There’s so much hanging on this,” he says. “Imagine, Zarkon. A universe united in peace that we will create.”

He can see it. Blood may stain his hands, but in the end, the universe will be at peace.

“It’s beautiful,” he finishes.

Zarkon’s eyes gleam with his vision. He doesn’t respond to Alfor, instead deep in thought. He’s a dreamer, too—both of them are.

“I’ll make the weapons,” he says. “And once the Lions are completed, we’ll form Voltron—head, arms, and legs.”

Alfor raises his eyebrows but smiles. “And who’ll be the torso?”

Zarkon shrugs.

“The same person who’s the head, I guess. Which planets will be which parts, do you think?”

He leans against the railing, considering it for a moment.

There is a part of him that hungers to be the leader, but he knows that even as a king, he cannot be the head. No—

“You’re the first, and you will be the intellectual and leader of Voltron. So you should be the head at the seat of power,” Alfor says.

Zarkon is far better than him; he carries a drive and determination that Alfor trusts will lead them far.

“I’ll be your right hand man, the arm. Olkari will be the left, and the other two will be the legs.”

“You should be fire,” Zarkon muses. “Bright and burning, like you. Instinct, gut feelings—soldiers need that. And you’ll be red, and Qataar will be blue, like water, fluid and faithful. A leg. Lwain, too—they’ll be the support.”

Alfor sees brightness burning in Zarkon’s eyes, and he realizes that he will follow him anywhere.

“And you?” he says softly.

Zarkon turns to him. The dim light spilling from the room casts half his face in shadow, but Alfor chooses to study the brightness.

“I’ll be the sky,” Zarkon says after a moment. He doesn’t seem to realize it, but his voice, too, has gone soft. “Black — for sky and space and its endlessness.”

They have been kings and brothers for a long time, but suddenly, in this moment, Alfor wants more.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing burning words on his tongue. “We’ll defend the universe.”

Zarkon only stares out at his home, silence resounding as his answer.

iv.

The first time they form Voltron, Alfor’s mouth fills with the taste of blood, coppery and strange. Then he laughs, because they’ve done it; they’ve finally, finally done it.

And it’s not just him. It’s all of them—a team.

No secrets. No hidden agendas. Only trust and family.

Suddenly their bond extends deeper than any of them expect it to. Suddenly they are all one, and Alfor’s thoughts aren’t his own.

A lingering thought from their Blue Paladin, Cellie, catches on a snag in his mind and doesn’t let go.

Alfor snaps back into his mind as Voltron drifts apart again. The others are celebrating, laughter faint through the comms, but he’s left with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Cellie is in love with Zarkon.

He thinks of his nights spent together with Zarkon, pinning his heart to his sleeve and waiting to be noticed. And as it turns out, he is not the only one.

Alfor does the only thing he can.

He copies the Galra and buries his feelings until they become the ghost of a dream. He watches Zarkon fall in love. Watches the way his eyes go soft, listens to him when he speaks about his girl like she’s the only other person in the universe.

Zarkon’s not blinded by love, of course. He still hungers for more, but the sharpness that comes with him is soothed by Cellie’s waters.

Alfor settles.

Marries childhood friend Alladosia—and when she confesses to him that she only loves him as a friend, Alfor presses his lips to her forehead and closes his eyes.

Still, they provide Altea with an heir. Allura is a brilliant star in the midst of darkness. She awakens in him a father and a sense of wonder at how the entire universe has managed to manifest in such a small thing.

“Would you like to hold her?” Alladosia asks, bouncing Allura in her arms. Zarkon hesitates, but then he gently takes Allura in his huge hands, scooping her up and treating her like she is a piece of glass to be broken at any second.

“She’s beautiful,” Zarkon says, and his eyes are bright as he peers at Allura. His voice is warm and full, and Alfor feels something in him twist. She should be their child.

Alladosia lays a hand on his arm, her eyes dark.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs to her as they step back slightly, keeping Allura in sight but moving out of earshot. He touches her face. “You are— dear to me.”

“As are you to me,” Alladosia says, “which is why you need to let go. Loving him hurts you.”

Alfor turns his face to the ground, bitter. Distantly, he hears Allura gurgling with laughter.

“I know,” he says. “I just— can’t.”

 Alladosia leaves a gaping crater in Alfor that begs to be filled.

Only a month has passed since she has passed, yet Alfor feels like he’s been in some sort of dream. He locks himself up most days, finding solace in Allura. He pleads with the universe to bring her back, to give him someone who will love him and stand by his side.

The universe answers.

Not with his wife, but in Zarkon, his hand on Alfor’s shoulder as he leads him back to his chambers.

“I’m sorry,” Zarkon says when they reach the doors. “I know what she meant to you.”

There is grief lodged in his throat. Alfor blinks back his tears, trying not to think of the pink shroud Alladosia had been burned in. The smell of smoke still clings to his clothes, and suddenly he is desperate to get rid of them.

“Alfor?” Zarkon says when he is silent.

He is not quite in his right mind, he realizes. But he needs—he needs someone to piece him together, needs to forget his grief and his aching loneliness, so Alfor shuts the doors behind Zarkon and watches the room go dark.

Then he kisses Zarkon, desperate and numb.

“Alfor,” Zarkon says.

“Please, Zarkon,” he whispers.

Zarkon drops to his knees, eyes dark as he looks up at Alfor. He looks like he’s praying at the feet of a temple when he rests a hand on Alfor’s knee, hesitating.

“No secrets between Voltron,” Zarkon murmurs, repeating Alfor’s old words.

“This one will be fine,” Alfor says.

 Things change.

It’s inevitable, of course. Alfor drifts in and out of reality, caught in between his emotions and his duty as a king and paladin of Voltron. There is no rest for him—always more meetings and fights and not a moment alone.

He’s not doing well, he knows.

When the others ask him to stop piloting the Red Lion, the fog that has seeped into his mind disappears.

“I’ll be better,” he promises, and his voice is desperate as he stares at Zarkon. Leader, he calls him most days. Lover, if he feels brave enough. “I will.”

“Very well,” Zarkon says, “but if this is a problem again, I do not want you near the Red Lion. Understood?”

Losing the Red Lion is losing a friend. Losing the Red Lion is losing a family. Losing the Red Lion is— is losing Zarkon.

“Understood,” Alfor whispers.

The two of them are different people now, but still their paths converge.

“Thank you, Zarkon,” Alfor says when they stop outside Zarkon’s quarters.

Zarkon opens the doors. “It’s what friends do.”

 vii.

Footsteps pound through the hall.

“Alfor!”

He stops, and Coran grabs his shoulder as he pants.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Not a moment later, the alarms begin to ring. He turns in a circle, his first thought of Allura, his second of Zarkon.

“Alfor,” Coran says. “He’s gone.”

“Who?”

Coran grips his shoulder tighter. “Zarkon.”

The alarms continue to blare, but they fade away. Alfor rocks back and forth on his feet for a moment, unsteady, before it sinks in.

“I don’t understand,” he says, mind racing. “What… what do you mean?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him,” Coran says frantically. “I knew we couldn’t trust him. I knew, I knew… and the look on his face, oh, I’m such a fool—”

“Your Majesty!” someone interrupts, racing down the hall. “A Burn Worm… outside the Castle…”

Alfor feels his face drain of color and warmth. Burn Worms are deadly creatures of destruction, and to have one here on Altea, where their grasses are plentiful and now burning—

“Prepare the Castle defenses,” he snaps. “And evacuate the people. I’ll send for Voltron.”

Coran catches his arm again. “Alfor, you aren’t listening to me.”

Alfor whirls, thinking of his people, screaming, burning—

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. His voice is loud to his ears, and in it he hears denial of the one fact he has been sure of, perhaps, since the beginning.

“It doesn’t matter!” he bellows, like he’s trying to prove something. Desperate.

“Alfor,” Coran says, and his voice is soft this time. His eyes are warm.

“My friend,” Alfor says, and he hears his voice strain and crack. “Do what you must. I will see you… I will see you on the other side.”

Coran studies him for a moment and then bows.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says before turning and sprinting down the hall. Alfor stares at his retreating back and wonders how many friends he will lose today.

 viii.

His kingdom is breaking at the seams.

Alfor hasn’t slept in… a while, he thinks. He’s not sure. His people live, but they live in fear of what Zarkon—emperor, as he calls himself these days—will do. He’s already sent many of them off-planet, shuttled to Altea’s allies.

“Are you sure, Alfor?” Coran says in the quiet moments. He’s binding a wire around Alfor’s wrist; there are already many attached to his head and along his chest.

It feels like there’s a storm waiting.

“I’m sure,” he says, and Coran nods.

The process doesn’t take very long. It’s simple and painless. He blinks, and then it’s over. All of his memories, everything he is, stored here on the holodeck.

“You will not tell Allura about this,” Alfor instructs as they unattach all the wires from his body. “Not until the time is right.”

“Surely—”

“No,” he says sharply. “She will know.”

Coran worries at his lip. “Know what?”

Alfor fixes his cloak as he stalks towards the doorway. There is no time to spare—Zarkon will be here soon, and Alfor must face him.

“I will not see her again,” he says, and the words are the most painful ones he’s ever spoken. “Coran, I— I want both of you in cyrosleep.”

Coran wrenches his shoulder back, and they stare at each other. “No.”

“You must,” Alfor begs, letting his walls crumble. “It is the only way. If Allura lives, so does Altea—today and tomorrow and years from now. And she is going to need someone by her side.”

His eyes burn, and Alfor turns his face away.

“It will not be me,” he chokes out, “but I know you love her as much as I do, and you will protect her with your life. And—”

Alfor touches Coran’s shoulder. “I want you to live,” he whispers. “You have been… you have been a dear friend to me, Coran. I am sorry I never told you, and that I did not appreciate you enough. You have always been here.”

Coran’s lips are pressed together and trembling, but he nods.

Alfor draws his sword and looks into it.

A tired man stares back at him.

“Tell her I love her,” he says, “and that I… I will see her soon.”

He has no words left to say. Alfor has lost in terrible ways: the screams of the dying haunt his dreams, his planet is almost decimated, and Zarkon rules an empire now.

But he has also won. The Lions are locked away, hidden safely. His daughter and best friend are safe.

The universe will find a way to rise up. It always does. All Alfor needs to do is give them a fighting chance.

Coran stares into his face. He has nothing left to say, either—they have spoken all the words they need to, and the ones left unspoken Alfor carries in his breast.

So Coran presses his fingers to his lips and then bows.

“Coran,” Alfor says.

“King Alfor,” he replies. When Coran leaves, he will be carrying hope in his arms.

They are the last words they will ever say to each other.

The crown the king keeps, but the emperor takes his throne.