#or be barely able to do something else than lie in bed for max of like 2h a day and not in one go

[hxhhasmysoul]

i got covid the moment the new hxh chapter dropped and i have zero energy for anything, let alone going into fandom. fuck my life. i turned on my comp for the first time in what 3 days... idk, i need to send one thing and then i will likely turn it off again. i will have to look through the tag when my focus and reading comprehension will be better than that of a dead worm.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Fancy Paper Napkins

because doesn’t everybody eat their fancy meals with fancy paper napkins ...

Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He actually slept, his mind calm, until he heard her whispering in his ear, “what are you cooking and when will it be ready?”

Opening his eyes, he saw hers staring at him, awake and bright, “what?”

“I’m hungry and I saw the crockpot plugged in.”

He broke into a grin, more from her proximity than anything else and forcing himself not to look at her mouth, not to think of that kiss, “mushrooms. Garlicy, buttery mushrooms that have been slow cooking in the crockpot,” looking over her head at the clock, “for four hours.” Sitting up quickly, “shit. I have to go stir them.”

Rolling off the bed, he disappeared down the hall, Scully close behind, “they won’t burn.”

“I’ll feel better when I see for myself.” Finally in the kitchen, he opened the crockpot, stirred with the big spoon, and glad to see the mushrooms soft and unburned, offered Scully a taste. Refusing with an, ‘I’d like to wait for dinner,’ he nodded towards the fridge, “go grab the steak, would you?”

They ate like civilized people, at the kitchen table, forks, knives, fancy paper napkins …

… “I refuse to use cloth ones because they’re too damn hard to clean.”

… “Did I say anything?”

… “No.”

… “Then why are you arguing at me?”

and a bottle of not-so-cheap wine Mulder found in his travels through Scully’s cupboards.

“I shouldn’t drink this.”

“Will it lower your inhibitions? Will you sweep off the coffee table and dance on it if I wave a bunch of ones at you? Will you tell me all your secrets?”

She couldn’t keep her hand from shaking as she poured them both glasses, “mostly I’m thinking that it’ll make me fall asleep even early that I probably would have already.”

Ignoring the tremor, “as long as you stay awake enough for ice cream.”

“I will do my best.”

She made it through half the steak, a bowl of mushroom, and three spoons of mashed potatoes, before finally giving in, trading her plate for Mulder’s empty, who continued to eat without pause. Watching him, she had to smile, “thank you.”

“For finishing your food? No problem.”

Not able to articulate at that particular moment that she was actually thanking him for a thousand things at once, she simply agreed, wondering if he’d figure it out on his own, “yeah, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Giving her a grin, he finished her food, then stood, “give me ten minutes to do dishes and put everything away, then we’ll argue about movies.”

“Let me load the dishwasher, at least. You won’t do it right and I’ll just have to redo it when you’re not looking.” Standing as well, she bumped hips with him as she walked past, “save me the trouble.”

Twisting up his leg, he hit her on the butt with his stocking foot, “smartass.”

They finally settled on several movies but still sitting on the couch, facing a blank TV and a window with a sunset just beginning to tint the room pink, Mulder gently poked her in the side, “how’re you doing?”

Feeling the urge to move, to take advantage of feeling okay for the moment, “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

Up immediately, he leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose, “any destination in mind?”

“Just … around.”

“Around it is.”

&&&&&&&&&

Warm enough to wander without jackets, they headed out her front door and turned left, bare arm brushing bare arm as they walked. They didn’t say much, commenting on scurrying squirrels here, a cute cat in the window there, Mulder catching a waywardly stumbling child tripping past, “geez, if I had known we were going to be experiencing a Norman Rockwell painting, I would have combed my hair and put on a clean shirt.”

Her laughter hit his ears like his favorite song and reaching over, he took her hand, never asking, never letting go as they circled and turned, ambled and veered. She didn’t argue, her thin, cool fingers enjoying his warmth.

But even on her best days lately, she gave in quicker than she’d have liked, 45 being the magic number of minutes she lasted until, “I think I’m ready for some ice cream.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, “ice cream it is. What kind should we start with?”

Discussion ensued and by the time they were in their pajamas, they’d settled on dark fudge and peanut butter swirl to begin with. Two spoons dove in, two spoons sampled, occasionally Scully would pull her loaded spoon out and looking at Mulder, found his mouth wide open, waiting expectantly.

And by God, she fed him.

The first time felt a little weird but by the third time he did it, she was laughing, “can you not feed yourself fast enough?”

“Nope.”

That was good enough for her.

Once the gorging finished, they’d had at least one spoonful out of each carton Mulder had bought, six in all, the flavors running the gambit and Scully full and happy and sleepy. “Are you going to be able to sleep with all that sugar in your system?”

Mulder grinned, chocolate rimming his lips, “if not, I’ll have a TV to keep me company while you drool all over your pillow.” A relieved sigh, one she didn’t know she was holding, escaped, and Mulder cocked his head, suddenly worried, “y’a’right?”?”

And deciding there was no reason not to tell him, “I think I was nervous you were going to go home tonight and,” another sigh, this one embarrassed, “it’s been a really nice day and if you went home, it would be over and,” slight wobbly smile appearing, “I don’t want it to be over just yet.”

Knowing something funny was in order, he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “is that some veiled attempt at asking me to move in here?”

Her smile steadied, “just go start the movie.”

&&&&&&&&&

Midnight rolled around and even though Scully had given in and gone to bed, Mulder was still awake and indeed watching TV, some cooking show he’d never admit to enjoying but enjoyed nonetheless. The sound was off and suddenly, the quiet of the darkened apartment was broken by Scully calling from the bedroom, “Mulder?”

It didn’t sound like a nightmare which, in his mind, could only mean she needed help. Jogging down the hall, he was in her doorway a second later, “yeah? You okay?”

Still laying down, she met his nervous gaze, her own a unique brand of terrified confusion, “am I still here?”

Immediately walking to the other side of the bed, he crawled under the covers, his hand meeting her cheek after she rolled over to face him, “yeah. You’re right here, in your bed.” When her terror didn’t fade, he continued, quieter, moving to meet her forehead with his, “you’re with me, in your apartment,” hand moving to the back of her neck, “whatever you dreamt wasn’t real.”

“It will be.” Feeling the bed shake as she hitched a silent sob, she managed a cracked whisper, “I don’t want to die.” Her fingers ran over his cheek, his ear, “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

The tear escaped before he could blink it away but he kept the others in, reservoir full but holding, “we’re gonna beat this. I guarantee it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to believe him anymore and she couldn’t keep up the lie at this hour, “you don’t know that.”

“But I choose to believe it.” Hand in her hair by now, he pulled her close enough that their noses were smushed together and eyelashes tangled, “I need to believe it.”

Maybe she could pretend a little more after all, “do you believe enough for both of us?”

“I believe enough for this whole damn world. You should know that by now.”

She could only nod against him, bringing their mouths to millimeter distances but refraining, crippling fear not a good enough reason to cross the line between them, “can you stay right here with me, tonight?”

He crossed it for them, a quick brush of lips, a quick nuzzle of noses, “I won’t move until you do.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Both knew the translation of that:

I don’t want to die alone.

&&&&&&&&

The next morning, Scully opened her eyes to find Mulder still sharing her pillow, not touching anymore but close enough to have him blurry in front of her instead of clear. For five seconds, she forgot her world and felt warm fuzzies chasing through her, up and down her spine, settling low.

Then, reality set in with a resounding thud.

Pulling back, she sat up, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears racing down her face. Neither could ignore the echoing sob, however and Mulder, already half-awake, sat up, confusion clearing in a heartbeat as he slid across the mattress, arm around her front, hugging her back to his chest. Kissing her neck and that hated, fucking scar, “we’re gonna win. I swear to God, we’re gonna win.”

And they cried together.

[memes-saved-me]

TW for abuse and homophobia below the cut

The sound of the front door slamming shut ran through Billy like a shot of adrenaline, his body telling him to get out of there. Fight or flight kicking in as the loud footsteps approached his room and his door swung open, hitting the wall and sending a tapped up poster sliding down to the floor to reveal a half drunk but very pissed Neil. His entire demeanor becoming even angrier once he set eyes on his son. He stormed towards him, grabbing him by the collar with such force he stumbled back into the shelves.

Billy had only ever seen his eyes like that once, the time he thought he might actually kill him. That’s when he knew what had caused this, why he was being held against the hard wooden planks with his father’s hands keeping him there.

“Who is this Steve Harrington? Huh?” He asked and Billy froze. Froze at the fact he knew his name, he wasn’t just some boy anymore. No, he was a person to Neil. A person he could hurt and ruin. “I thought we…talked about this.”

“He’s a guy at my school-.”

“Don’t lie to me! You know what happens when you lie,” That was when Susan appeared in the doorway to watch as she always did. To try and do something only to fall under his anger herself. “You’ve been seen…touching this boy all over town.”

For a moment he bargained with if he should argue, mainly to protect Steve from being outed or targeted. Except, he had done this before. Tried to cover the fact he was seen under the peer back in San Diego, hand down a surfers shorts and his lips running along his neck. Said it wasn’t him, that whoever told him must have mistaken him for someone else. That was until he realised it was Max who saw them, Max who let it slip not knowing any better.

So, he stood there silently as his secret began to pour out from his eyes alone. “So, it’s true. You don’t learn do you boy?”

“No, sir,” Billy subdued.

“Not even after teaching you a lesson last time?” He sighed and looked away, shaking his head only to tighten his grip and push Billy harder against the shelves. “No running off to that other faggot’s house. You will not climb out of that God damn window after this. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Billy was too tired of fighting back only to lose everytime. His mind freezing his body the second he felt even the slightest pain, a shock response that resulted in nothing more than a scared boy curled in a ball until he knew it was safe to move. To crawl into bed and cry himself into the morning.

He watched as his father smiled, nodded his head and then…sent his fist into his stomach. Which would have sent him to his knees but he was still being held up by much stronger hands. “I said I won’t!” Billy couldn’t help it.

“I don’t believe a thing that comes out of that nancy mouth of yours”, Another hit and then another. It was then that he felt his body fall, his knees hit the ground and his arms finally wrap around his waist as the pain set in.

Except, he wasn’t given a chance to feel it because then a boot was swinging straight towards his chest, sending him backwards against the bookcase again. His head smacking against one of the shelves, causing the room to blur momentarily as he instinctively tried to block the next kick with his hands. Only to feel it hit his thigh.

It all blurred together after that, just as it always did but this time it never seemed to stop. His body was aching, bruising and most definitely fractured but his face was left untouched. No evidence to be seen, no questions to be asked but his body told another story.

When the nausea kicked in he heard his bedroom door slam and the lights go out. Not that he could move, even stand to get into bed or take off his jacket. His chest hurt to breathe, ached as the sobs began and the tears rolled over his nose and onto the floor. There was still light coming from outside as he lay there curled in on himself until the pain took over and he blacked out.

The morning sun woke him, his eyes rejecting the light as his body rejected movement. Yet, he knew he needed to get up and drop Max off at school. Even if he would be skipping to nap in his car. He knew he needed to tell Steve that people might know, that they might be in more trouble than they had ever imagined.

His door creeked open and he looked to see Max standing with her backpack on and her skateboard under her arm. “I’ll walk.”

“No. Just give me a second,” Billy groaned and finally sat up, his head spinning. “Go wait in the car.”

She stood there, clearly wanting to protest but she didn’t. The door closed quietly and Billy used an empty box to get to his feet, an action that only intensified the ache of his muscles. Muscles that had spent the night in the same possible on a drafty floor after taking hit after hit for…Billy didn’t know how long he had lay there being beaten and he didn’t want to know.

He looked at his watch, still enough time to get to school and tell Steve before class. Warn him at least. Just enough time if he didn’t get changed or clean himself up, so he grabbed his sunglasses to hide his puffy under eyes from the crying, buttoned up his shirt to hide the bruising and made his way to the front door. Thankfully Neil had already left for work so he wouldn’t tell him to stop with the limp.

Billy struggled to the car and dropped into the drivers seat, forcing his legs to do what they were trained to do and pulled out of the driveway. Making sure to concentrate on the road as he took his time towards the school. Max didn’t speak, didn’t ask because she knew the answer. The bell was ringing when they pulled up, she jumped out with a quiet thanks and ran for the entrance.

The Beamer was there but Steve wasn’t around so he didn’t bother to get out of the car, he instead turned off the engine and sunk down into his seat to finally relax. Let his body release the tension from hours of being on edge, fully aware of his surroundings. Just as he felt his breathing steady someone knocked on his window and startled him right back to where he started.

“Let me in,” Steve said just loud enough for him to hear so he did. Within seconds the brunette was sitting beside him smiling like he made his day better just by existing. “Where were you?”

“He knows,” He blurted out before he could overthink it. But he couldn’t look at Steve, couldn’t face his reaction. “My dad. He knows about us.”

“And what did he do when he found out?” Steve asked, his voice firm and controlled but there was definitely anger beneath it.

“Nothing.”

“Billy, did he…” Steve went quiet.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Billy replied to the silence.

“I’m gonna kill that bastard son of a bitch!” He smacked the dashboard and stared straight ahead. His entire body screaming that he might actually do it, that in that moment he was ready to drive straight to wherever he was and stab him until he had no hope of recovery.

And for a moment Billy believed it. The anger in his eyes as they finally met was enough to convince him that much. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Me? I know who he is and what he does to you,” Steve reached out to touch Billy’s forearm and he winced at the pressure. “Let me see.”

“Steve-.”

“Let me see!” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead he reached for his jacket and pulled open his shirt to see the dark blues and purple covering his chest and ribs. “Holy shit…”

Billy didn’t have a reply to that because his reaction was warranted. He knew that more than anyone as he looked down at his own body, damaged and trying its best to heal. “Do you think Joyce will have a look because I think it’s real bad?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve snapped back and looked at Billy with such care and worry for a moment the pain faded, but only for a second. “Get in my car so people will think you’re here.”

He let Steve help him out the Camaro and into his car. Let him take his hand as they headed for the General store where the only adult they could trust would be able to help. Do something because anything would be better than going to Hopper or the hospital and explaining why he could barely breathe without wanting to cry.

Why he thought his own father was going to kill him and that in all honesty he still might, even if it did finally send him to prison. Billy knew he would rather rot in a cell than have his only son seen holding hands with another man, a fact that made his fingers grip to Steve’s for any chance at life. Even if it was slowly dimming with every day. Steve was there to help brighten it again.

[mourntheantagonist]

Billy Hargrove’s Exploration of Beauty

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

Part 4: Safer With You

also on ao3

***

They just appeared there one day. Out of the blue. No grand announcement. Just there sitting at the top of his dresser drawer in Steve’s room subtly making their presence known.

Three pairs of lace panties. Black, light blue, and a blush pink. Frilly lace on the waistband. Full coverage cotton lined with an additional layer of embroidered sheer fabric. They were modest and feminine and they made his stomach churn.

He took the blue pair out of the drawer out of sheer impulse and shoved them into his jacket pocket. Crumpled and compact so Steve wouldn’t see.

He didn’t say anything to Steve about it before he left. Just kept an arm by his side as he kissed Steve goodbye. Concealing the lump in his pocket. Even knowing well that Steve wouldn’t ask him about it. He’d know he’d taken them anyway when he inevitably opened the drawer when Billy was gone. Like he had done every night since he bought them. Checking. Waiting.

When Billy got home he hid them away under his bed. Saving them for later. Saving them for tomorrow. When he’d put them on under his jeans after looking at himself in the mirror wearing them for just a little too long.

It got easier to look at himself. To see himself in the mirror and see that new person looking back at him. Just barely breaking the surface, but the person was there. Billy liked it. Looking at himself. Whispering ‘pretty’ under his breath as he traced the circumference of his hips. Slipping his fingers in and out of the fabric, appreciating how delicate it was. How delicate it made him feel. In only good ways. Not like he would break easily. Not fragile. Just soft and assured and warm inside. Delicate like a diamond. Tough to break but beautiful and shiny and filled with worth.

He felt like he was worth something. Wearing pretty panties his boyfriend bought for him. Bought for him so Billy could feel the way he feels right now. Like himself. It made him feel like he mattered. Steve doing things like this for the sole purpose of making him happy. No ulterior motives.

Okay maybe there were some ulterior motives. But Billy was okay with those. He liked that Steve looked at him like that and thought of him that way. Confirming and affirming him every day. With words or simple little gestures like buying him pretty lace panties.

Billy was not prepared for the absolute euphoria he was about to experience that day.

Walking through the halls of school wearing delicate fabric underneath harsh denim. Rough exterior paired with a soft interior. A knowledge only Billy was privy to. He felt a weird kind of confidence. Not the kind that is outward and in your face. Not the fake confidence he exuded on the daily. A confidence in himself, of who he is. Confidence in feeling like it was okay. To have little things like this, and nobody else had to know about it. It was a little act done solely for himself and nobody else. He didn’t put them on to please anybody else. Not like he did with the rest of his attire. Attire he’d learned to like, but not something had he had the choice he would have picked.

One of few actions he’d taken in his entire life that weren’t for anyone else. Not for his father. Not for his peers. Not for Steve. For himself, and himself only. And he felt alive. The Billy who could finally breathe.

He could tell that Steve knew. Knew that he took them. Just in the way he greeted him after school in the parking lot with a telling smile on his face. Although, he wasn’t sure if Steve knew he was wearing them at that moment. It would be very possible for the panties to have ended up just like the lingerie did at first. Buried away in the dark. Untouched with the tags still on.

But they didn’t. And that was a huge step.

When Billy had arrived at Steve’s house after dropping off Max at the Wheelers, he didn’t hesitate when he pinned Steve up against the wall nearest the front door. Overcome by all the pent up confidence inside of him he was just bursting to let out. All these good feelings inside unleashed onto Steve. Licking the inside of his mouth pushed heavily against him. Smiling against his teeth as he felt himself start to get hard inside the little panties.

Steve could feel it pressed up against his leg and immediately reacted by dragging Billy up the stairs and into his bedroom. Roughly pushing Billy down onto the bed and climbing on top. A knee on either side of him, hands pressed firmly into the mattress propping himself up as he pressed his lips to Billy’s all wet and sloppy and unsteady.

They kicked off their shoes, ripped off their shirts, and barely broke away from each other for more than a second.

A trail of kisses moving down from his lips to his neck to his chest to his stomach. all the way to right above the waistband of his jeans where he paused. Stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at Billy. Biting his lower lip. Contemplating as he took hold of Billy’s belt with one hand. Just holding it. Billy’s confused.

“Is this okay?”

His first thought is ‘of course it’s okay, why would he even ask?’ until the sudden realization hits him. He’d momentarily forgotten. Forgotten what he was wearing. So caught up in Steve.

And now he wants to fucking cry. Because he asked if it was okay. He knew what Billy had on and he wanted to make sure Billy was truly okay with Steve seeing it. Seeing him again. He didn’t want to take something from Billy that he wasn’t ready to dole out. Not like he did when he barged into the bathroom. Even though he knows he did the right thing that time.

Billy deserved to be in control of this. Because it was scary for him. Years of rejection piled up inside. It wasn’t something he had ever gotten used to. It was just something he actively tried to avoid. And this here was full of potential for rejection. Steve assured him he would never.

But his mother said she would never leave.

His dad said he would never hurt him.

Lies and rejection. He had to be prepared. He had to be able to go at his own pace.

He nodded his head.

Because he trusted Steve more than he had ever trusted anybody. And maybe that was dangerous. But everything they did together was dangerous. But it felt safe when they were together. Steve made him feel safe.

Steve slowly removed his belt.

Unbuttoned his jeans.

Lowered his zipper.

The whole while Billy was holding his breath. Steve was going so slow. Giving Billy ample opportunity to change his mind.

He didn’t.

Steve pulled his jeans down over the curve of his ass and all the way down until they were past his ankles and on the floor.

Steve just stared for a moment, hands hovering above him. Billy squeezed his eyes shut.

Then Steve’s hands found Billy’s hips. Thumbs digging gently into his pelvis and tracing the texture of the lace. They barely fit with his erection. But they fit him so well I’m other ways.

“Gorgeous.”

The first word to come out of Steve’s mouth. Billy choked.

“Stunning.”

He’s peppering kisses all over the fabric. On his dick. On his thighs. On his hips. Anywhere the fabric had touched. Worshipping.

Crawling back up to see Billy’s face. Tear stained with eyes closed. Wiping away at said tears with his thumb. Cupping his cheek with the other hand. Pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

“Absolutely Beautiful.”

Billy opens his eyes. Brings a hand up to meet Steve’s wrist. Wrapping his fingers around it gently. He takes in a deep breath.

“Fuck me.”

It’s not dirty in the way it leaves his lips. With a whisper and a smile. Tears still stain his cheeks. It’s not a plea to be dicked down. Not a desperate need to get off. It’s said in a need to be shown love. To show love. Said as a form of gratitude. Showing Steve that he likes being vulnerable with him. Likes showing himself to Steve. Giving himself up to Steve in his entirety.

So Steve does. Slowly pulling Billy’s panties down, but only to his knees. So that they’re still there on his person as a reminder. A reminder to Billy that Steve loves it. Loves all of it and doesn’t want to remove that feeling from him. Lace against his skin as Steve opens him up with his fingers as he kisses the inside of his thighs. Billy’s back arching in the air as he slips in a third.

Any other time Billy would yell at him to hurry up. But he loves this. Steve taking his time. Being slow and loving and treating him with so much care. Nothing rough. Slow and sweet as he finally thrusts himself inside. Telling Billy how pretty he looks. How beautiful he is. Overwhelming tears of absolute joy filling his eyes against his will.

Steve telling him he loves him. Over and over again as he thrusts into him. Holding Billy’s hands where they rest above his head. Fingers intertwined and grip squeezing with every thrust. Billy’s breath heavy. Whimpering and moaning as his dick leaks with pre onto his stomach.

Declaring quietly how he’s close. He’s falling apart in the best way possible.

Steve telling him that he is too.

“Inside me.” Billy breathes out.

Billy’s coming all over Steve’s torso. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a heavy and breathy moan. Panting as he comes down from the high only for it to be followed by the feeling of Steve coming inside of him. Filling him up watching as Steve’s face contorts with his release. Feeling as it slowly drips out of him when Steve removes himself and comes up to lie down next to Billy.

Curling up next to him, turning his head towards him so he can kiss him. A glorious and slow exchange on tongues.

Soft.

So soft.

“God you’re perfect.” Billy says against Steve’s lips. Foreheads touching. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for.”

Billy grabs his face with both of his hands.

“There’s so much to thank you for. You have no idea.”

Steve smiles. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“You have no idea.”

next part

[multific]

My Angel

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: This wasn’t the “I hate him, I fell in love “scenario, you genuinely felt disgusted by Billy, or did you?

 Billy used to be a complete asshole.

He was the kind you avoided at all costs. He was the kind mothers warned their daughters about. When in reality it was the mothers who should have been warned.

You hated him. Everything he represented and was. Even the way he took his breath was annoying you. Ever since he sat down in class right next to you, and started flirting with you like you were a piece of meat.

However, your mind changed for the better one night.

You saw him driving in front of you, a typical fast driver with no care of the world. He disappeared down the road. You continued on your way home when you suddenly saw his car, his windscreen broken but surprisingly the car was in a good shape. Since you thought he might have been in an accident, you pulled over. Billy wasn’t in the car, you were worried since he might be injured.

“Billy?” you called out but no answer came.

Then you hear a scream coming from the building beside you.

“Billy? I swear if this is a prank…” but when no answer came you headed in. You saw Billy holding onto the side of the railing as something was pulling him down. You ran to him and saw what grabbed him. You couldn’t believe it, you thought the gate was closed.

“I can’t hold.” you hear him say and knew you needed to do something. You grabbed a nearby heavy metal and threw it on the creature. With an “Ugly, bitch.” you were happy when it let go of Billy’s leg and ran away.

“Are you okay? Did it bite you?” Billy immediately stood up, but his leg seemed to be hurt.

“What the fuck was that?”

“It’s dead now, let’s go, I don’t think it was alone.” you helped him back to your car and put him into the front passenger seat and you took the driver’s seat. You took a mental note of the place. Hopper and the others will need to know about this.

You drove away and back to your home.

“Did you hurt your head?”

“No.”

“Only your leg?”

“My leg’s fine! I want to know what the fuck that was.” you knew you needed to lie, ever since the events of the last two years, you were one of the girls in the lab, the oldest one. You could control other people’s minds so you convinced the lab that you weren’t much to their use, and you were set free. You could sometimes control people’s minds, read their thoughts when you wanted to and heal others with your touch. You have been living a normal life ever since. Two years ago, Eleven got out as well and you were reunited. Then the lab closed, you thought everything will be okay.

“A wolf?” you asked skeptically.

“Don’t fucking lie to me! That’s wasn’t any animal!” he kept on yelling about how it ruined his date, jeans and car. You had enough.

“Yeah, because you’d believe me if I said it was from another dimension right?! Because you’d fucking believe if I said that my sister and I are a psychic, yeah a wolf is totally unbelievable.” Billy looked at you like you were crazy and for the first time you met him, he was silent. “Just don’t say anything. I’ll take you home, patch up your leg and then you can get back to fucking mums and ruin families. And I’m the crazy one.” He still had that stupid shook on his face. You gave him space and quiet for the rest of the ride.

Once you arrived to your home, you opened the door and then went back to the car to help Billy. To your surprise he let you help him. You went in and helped him sit on the couch.

“Put your leg up.” he didn’t argue. He put his leg up on the couch next to him. This is when you noticed how severe his injury really was. He either had a high pain tolerance or he didn’t want to whine.

“I’m sorry what I said before, but you can’t tell anyone about this, about me.” you looked at him, practically begging. “They will lock me up again, I cannot be locked up again! You don’t know what it’s like, the darkness, the emptiness. And the tests, oh the tests, please. Please, Billy, don’t tell anyone.” panic set in as you realized what happened, although the lab was closed, you never stopped to worry that another lab might take you, you couldn’t take chances. Billy realized the genuine fear in your eyes and all he could do is nod, but that wasn’t enough for you.

“I need you to say it, Hargrove!”

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

You let out a long sign and placed your hand on his wound. Billy looked at you and watched his wound heal itself. It wasn’t even a minute and his leg was back to normal. You were surprised he didn’t freak out.

“You should probably wash up. My bathroom is at the end of the hallway on the left.” you told him and got up to get a towel.

He took a shower while you sat in the living room. You blamed yourself for telling him so much. You shouldn’t trust him with such information, so then why did you?

There was just something about his eyes. Like he was begging for someone to save him, and not only from the monster that grabbed him. He soon came out of the bathroom. He was all cleaned up.

“You can ask. I can talk about myself maybe that will give you some answers.”

“So, who are you?”

“I hoped you’d at least notice me, we go to the same school, in the same class, and you even sat down next to me once.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I know that. I meant like how can you just heal me with a touch??” for the stress he went through, you found him to be rather calm.

 “Honestly? I was born with it. The place I grew up in was… bad, horrible. I was experimented on, they wanted to use my powers and only by controlling the people there was I able to get out. I’m not here to hurt anyone, I just want a relatively normal life, you know for being a monster I rather prefer simple things.” you let him absorb the info you told him. But you could tell there was still some questions in his mind.

“I can control people sometimes, real their thoughts and heal wounds. And I’m currently experimenting if I can do more when I really concentrate I can move small things. No, that’s not a weird question, I can block whose thoughts I’m reading so it’s not overwhelming when I’m in a crowded place. And I can communicate like this.” you answered all of his questions and the last one Billy could only hear in his mind.

“Amazing.” is what he said. “So that thing, that attacked me.”

“It’s not from our world. But I will make sure it goes back to where it belongs. You know for a guy like you, you are awfully quiet.”

“Well, excuse me, I think I just barely survived, then I learn that you have superpowers the last thing I want to think about right now is talking.” he pulled his cigarettes out but you took them from his hands.

“No smoking in here please. I will head to bed now. You can sleep here, oh by the way, I think your car is fine, it was left beside the road. Goodnight.” you stood and went into your room.

Billy slept on your couch that night and in the morning he went to get his car, then home.

You really hoped he won’t tell anyone. And in the meantime, you made sure the guys and Jim knew about what you saw.

The next few went on pretty normally. Bill continued his job as a guard at the local swimming pool, and you went back to your job at the mall. Everything went smoothly. Although Dustin almost got you into some mission against Russians, you didn’t want to get involved.

You worked in a shop as a shop assistant, selling clothes. One day, Max and El came to get some clothes and they said hi to you. The same day you were the one to close the shop, so it was rather late when you left to go home. And since your colleague drove you to work that morning, you needed to take the bus home. But when you got out, you saw an all too familiar car at the entrance with an all too familiar looking guy leaning and smoking against the car’s hood. You figured he was waiting for someone else so you just headed to the bus stop, but then you heard your name.

“Y/N!” you were surprised to know that Billy Hargrove knew your name. “I’ll drive you home, get in.” Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to sit next to the bus-creep or that you wanted to avoid the sexual remarks of the bus driver, but soon you found yourself in Billy’s car.

“Slow down, will you? I don’t plan on dying early.” you were extremely uncomfortable at how fast he was driving, and to your surprise, he slowed down. “Thank you. You drive like you are rushing your wife because she’s about to give birth,” you said with a huff, but your comparison made him laugh.

“Never heard that one before, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me cringe.”

“Doll? Sugar? Princess? Babe?” at that point you knew it was pointless to argue so you just looked out of the window. “Look, I have been thinking.” he said with a serious voice.

 “Wow. Hope you didn’t hurt your head.” you didn’t know why you were so mean. Maybe it was because of your work you were tired of the fact that he spent the night and you didn’t sleep much.

“Very funny, but no. And I have decided that you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” if you were drinking at that moment your drink would be all over his windscreen.

“It’s logical. I’m handsome and full of muscles. And you have superpowers. You saved my life, so you are a perfect choice.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Doll. I know you want this too.”

You looked at him for a second before anger filled you completely. You made his car stop immediately, Billy could have flown out of the windscreen but you held him there.

“Listen to me, Hargrove. I’m not a new name on your list, and I will never be. I respect myself too much for that. I told my deepest secret and you are treating it like that’s only to me. I’m more than just that. Second of all, “full of muscles and handsome”? You are the biggest dickhead I have ever met. And to blame your father for it, ridiculous. You are your own person, just because he treats you like shit, you should never do that to others. Yeah, next time maybe hold your dreams in. I’m sorry what happened to you and you have been through a lot. But no. I’m not going to be your girlfriend so you can show me off like some kind of circus animal.” with that you got out of his car, shutting the door as you started walking home. You heard him start the car and he rolled along next to you, with the window rolled down, he started talking.

“You didn’t let me finish, Y/N.”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove.”

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend just so I can show you off!” he stopped the car and got out, grabbing your hand and turning you so you were looking him in the eyes. “You are the first person I have felt safe with. And I’m not angry that you looked into my head, my father is a dick, and yes it made me one too. But when I was at your house that night, I finally felt safe. I could sleep without the fear of him getting in or yelling at me. I know how I behaved in the past was horrible, but yesterday changed me, you changed me. I have been thinking about this for the last few days, I think its love. Because I never felt this before.”

You still didn’t want to believe him, obviously, Mother Nature was on his side, so it started to rain.

“Get in, you’ll get soaked!” but soon Billy realized that you stopped the rain from getting on you, like an invisible umbrella. “Please, just let me take you home, it’s the least I can do after what you did yesterday.”

You decided to stop being a brat and got in.

“How’s your leg?” you asked silently he barely heard it.

“Hmm? Oh. Perfectly fine thank you, you really are an angel, My Angel.”

“I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t fair with you. You just annoy me.”

“I was called worse before, so no worries.”

“You annoy me Billy. You with your flirting, your perfect skin and hair and eyes. It annoys me how much I like you. I’m just like every other girl at the school who lusts over you.”

“Lust?”

“That’s all you got from that?”

“No. I got the part that my skin is perfect so are my eyes and hair.” there was a smile on his face and soon you smiled too. Seeing him happy made you happy as well.

“I won’t read your mind again, ever. I promise.”

“Feel free, Angel. To be honest not really much is going on in this department.” he said motioning to his head. “But this department. It’s always open.” he said lowering his movements to his crotch. It was obviously just a joke to make you smile, and it did. Soon you got to your home and he stopped the car turning to look at you. “How about I take you out tomorrow? We can have dinner or whatever people do on a normal date.”

“Dinner sounds nice.” you said nodding your head and avoiding his eyes.

He moved his hand to your cheeks and moved your head to face him, his eyes stared into yours as he leaned in to plant a small kiss to your lips. It was a short kiss, but it was all he needed.

“Then tomorrow Angel.”

“Six.”

“I should pick you up at six?”

“No, that was my name in the lab.” you shoved him the number on your arm. “Number Six.”

“Well, I prefer Angel. My Angel.” he said as he pulled your hand up and kissed your tattoo.

 After that, you got out of the car and he drove home. Both of you excited for tomorrow’s date.

 The day Billy got attacked, he changed. He met you and his eyes got opened. You became his everything, his safe place where he could be truly himself. Sure, with others, he was the same, but with you and with those who mattered, he learned to be himself.

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 ~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~

[litwitlady]

5+1

Five times Michael kisses Alex, and one time Alex kisses Michael.

They have been arguing for half an hour. Michael upset that Alex has been avoiding him. Alex upset that Michael no longer loves him – even though he hasn’t admitted that part yet.

When the rain starts, Alex turns to head home. They are getting nowhere, and he doesn’t want to get soaked. ‘Goodbye, Michael.’

‘Wait, Alex.’ Michael grabs his arm as the rain starts to fall in earnest. ‘What’s wrong? And the truth this time. Then you can run home.’

Anger flares in Alex’s chest. ‘What’s wrong, Guerin, is how easily you stopped loving me. It was just ‘you’re not good for me’. And then, poof! I was suddenly so much nothing. How did you do it? Please, because I’m having a really fucking hard time returning the favor.’

His tears mingle with the rain as Michael stares at him open-mouthed and clearly confused. Maybe a touch hurt.

‘What? Alex, no.’ Michael reaches for him again, but Alex dodges. They are both soaked now, hair plastered to their foreheads. Michael follows Alex to his car door. ‘Please. That’s not what happened.’

‘Yes, Michael. To me, that’s what happened. So just, leave me alone.’ His hands go to his pockets for his keys but come up empty. ‘Fuck. My keys are back at the Crashdown.’

‘Stay here. I’ll go get them.’ He runs off before Alex can stop him.

It’s raining so hard the storm drains are starting to backup. Small rivers flow along the curbs, splashing over sidewalks. The temperature has dropped. And Alex is starting to shiver beneath his soggy clothes. He wants to go home and shower this day away.

By the time Michael returns, he’s hugging himself and rubbing his hands up and down his arms – teeth practically chattering. Michael hands him his keys, wallet, and phone – but grabs his wrist before he can pull away. Warmth immediately surges through Alex’s body. Melting away the freezing rain.

‘I love you, Alex. And I never stopped. Not once. Not even for a second.’ He moves to open Alex’s car door. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.’

Alex runs his thumb over his key fob. But can’t bring himself to push the unlock button. ‘Well, you were very convincing.’ He guesses the storm has washed away all his anger. Or maybe he’s just exhausted.

‘Years of practice.’ Michael half-smiles and motions to the door. ‘You’re cold. You should go and get warm.’

Alex doesn’t move. ‘I am cold. But I want you to warm me up.’

They stand staring at each other. Thunder clapping overhead. Michael takes a step forward and then another. The gap between them shrinking quickly. And then his hands are on Alex’s chest, walking him slowly back against the Explorer.

Michael moves his hands up to Alex’s neck, presses their hips together. And everything locks back into place. Their bodies curving into each other like that’s what they were made to do.

Alex runs his cool, damp hands under Michael’s shirt. Not caring that they are in public. And Michael shivers. His thumbs reach Michael’s nipples and that’s when Michael attacks. Moaning into Alex’s mouth, sucking and licking along his bottom lip until Alex opens for him.

If possible, the rain falls even harder as they kiss desperately, bodies fused together against the Explorer. Kyle spots them and stops briefly, lifting an umbrella over their heads, before laughing and running off. Alex and Michael do not notice.

**

Two weeks later, Michael and Isobel are at the Pony. Tucked away in a back booth. Isobel is trying to discuss the Max and Liz situation, but Michael is distracted. Alex is at the bar laughing with Maria. More than once, something in Alex’s left ear has caught the dim bar lights overhead. Michael suspects he knows why and welcomes the heat that flares in his belly.

‘Michael, are you listening? We’re practically in crisis here and you can’t pull your eyes away from Alex for two fucking seconds.’ She throws a slice of lemon into this hair and he just leaves it there. Too distracted to care.

Isobel gives up. Goes back to drinking her beer and plotting ways to get her dumb brother back together with the love of his life. One down, one to go. Then she can focus on herself.

Alex turns around and spots Michael immediately. Grins. Waves goodbye to Maria and heads over to their booth. With every step, Michael gets more and more excited.

As Alex slides into the booth next to him, Michael’s hand goes to his ear and discovers the small, gold hoop. Fingers giving his ear a little tug. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Last night. Liz and Maria helped. Doesn’t even hurt. Do you like it?’

Michael answers by kissing his earlobe. Licking up the shell of his ear and whispering. ‘I think it’s really fucking hot. Forgot how much I’d missed it.’

Isobel groans dramatically. ‘Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? Watching you two lick at each other like feral animals?’

Alex goes to say he’s sorry, but Michael shooshes him with a kiss.

‘Really, Michael?’ Isobel whines.

Michael reaches back blindly for his hat, uses it to hide their very enthusiastic making out from his sister. She huffs a laugh and kicks him under the table. ‘I will have my revenge.’

‘Wait. Why is there a lemon in your hair?’ Michael puts his hat on his head and takes the lemon slice from Alex, throws it back at Isobel. Starts to nudge Alex out of the booth.

‘Enjoy babysitting Max, Iz. I’ve got better things to do.’ He winks down at her.

Alex grabs Michael’s hand starts pulling him towards the door. ‘He means me.’

Isobel flicks them off as they leave the bar laughing.

**

Six months fly by and Michael moves in with Alex. Max comes over to help Michael build out Alex’s closet – well, their closet now. Alex is busy working on a coding project for work and leaves them to it.

Lunch time rolls around and they’ve worked up an appetite. Michael heads out to where Alex is hunched over his computer at the kitchen counter. ‘We’re going to grab something to eat. Want to come?’

Alex shakes his head. ‘Too busy. I’ll just eat something quick here. Have fun.’ He doesn’t even bother looking up from the screen.

‘Okay. Well, I’m be home soon.’ Alex’s fingers abruptly stop typing. Michael grins like an idiot. It’s the first time he’s used that word out loud. Home. He’s finally home.

Michael kisses Alex hard on his cheek. ‘I love you so much.’ And then he kisses him on his temple, his forehead and both eyes. Back down to his cheeks. Loudly punctuating each kiss with a smack of his lips.

Alex laughs, plays at swatting Michael away. ‘I love you, too.’

He kisses Alex one last time on the mouth. And then turns back towards Max. ‘I’m ready now.’ As he passes his brother he stops and smacks a kiss on his cheek as well. ‘Wouldn’t want you to feel left out.’

Max chuckles. He’s so damn happy for Michael.

They head out to his jeep and Max pauses before climbing inside. ‘I like this Michael. The Alex Michael. Looks good on you, brother.’

‘Feels good, too.’ He smiles and walks around the jeep, pulls Max into a hug. Lifting him off the ground and spinning him around.

Alex hears them laughing, smiles and sends a prayer of thanks to the universe.

**

October 2008

Alex returns to Roswell nine weeks after leaving for basic. His hair is shorn close and he’s lost weight. Michael barely recognizes him. And it breaks his heart. All the anger he remembers feeling with Alex left vanishing.

They are sitting on Michael’s bed. In his new airstream. Well, new to him anyway. Alex hasn’t said more than two words. But he’s driven out to the junkyard, so Michael is doing his best to make him feel wanted and welcome. Because Michael has missed him so much that sometimes he can’t breathe.

‘Was it bad?’ Michael asks. He knows the answer already.

Alex just shrugs and hugs his knees into his chest. ‘It’s over now.’

But that’s not true. They both know it’s only just beginning.

Michael aches to touch him. To hold him. Worries if he does, he’ll never let him go. ‘Do you want to stay here? With me. Instead of with…,’ His voice trails off. Doesn’t want to mention that man.

‘I got a motel room. But I’d rather stay here.’ He looks up at Michael for the first time, his pretty brown eyes so haunted. And Michael can no longer stop himself. He scoots back against his pillows, pulling Alex down onto his chest. The way Alex clings to him brings tears to his eyes.

‘I missed you.’ He whispers the words into Alex’s hair.

Alex shifts against him. Looking up. ‘Is your hand better?’

Michael instinctively flexes his fingers, feels the tight scar tissue stretch. Shows Alex. ‘It’s not pretty, but it still works. Mostly.’

They lie together for a long time. Holding on for dear life. Michael is just about asleep when Alex climbs on top of him. ‘Show me how much you missed me.’ His hands are clasped in Michael’s dirty t-shirt. ‘Please.’

He knows sex is maybe not the best idea, but he’s never once been able to say no to Alex. He weaves his fingers through Alex’s hair and stretches his neck up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

At that one simple touch, something in Alex comes undone. He collapses against Michael’s chest, body racked with sobs. Michael holds him until he falls asleep, until the sun comes up, until he has to leave again.

**

Their one year anniversary happens to coincide with Planet 7’s Pride celebration. All of their friends come along to celebrate with Michael and Alex.

Isobel declares herself in charge of wardrobe and dresses everyone for the big night. Michael looks like a walking bisexual flag – all pinks and purples and blues. While Alex just looks hot. Rainbow tattoos across his cheeks, tight black leather pants, and an old David Bowie t-shirt with the sleeves cut out. Cut off so low that Alex’s nipples are nearly always on display – at least from the side, which is where Michael tries to station himself all night.

Everyone else has some version of cheek tattoos, feather boas, and glitter. Especially Kyle who really takes to everything Isobel throws at him. Even Max has let Isobel do his makeup – the entire bar complimenting him on his gorgeous pink eyelashes.

They have an absolute blast. Singing and dancing and loving each other.

As the evening draws to a close, Isobel brings out a huge cake. It’s covered in rainbows and unicorns and little green aliens. Michael and Alex delight at the garish cake and hug her between them. Both wishing her a happy pride and kissing her thank you.

Michael cuts the first piece of cake and smashes it into Alex’s face. Isobel shrieks, punching him on the arm. But Michael just grins wider and stalks towards his boyfriend. Alex is trying to scramble way, but he’s not fast enough. Michael pounces, grabbing his hips and lifting him onto a stool. Thumbs under his chin, lifting his face up for better access. Licks the pink frosting from his chin and then buries his tongue in Alex’s mouth.

Everyone groans but throws glitter over them as they kiss. Isobel never forgives them for the food fight that breaks out shortly after. Her beautiful cake ruined.

**

On Michael’s 31st birthday, they head out to their spot in the desert. Wrap themselves in blankets in the bed of Michael’s truck. It’s a cool June night and the sky is clear, stars twinkling above them.

Their two year anniversary is next week. And they are taking their first real vacation. Michael has always wanted to go to Asia, so they have a whole trek planned. Three weeks in Thailand, Vietnam, and Japan.

‘Do you still think about leaving?’ Alex twines their fingers together.

Michael shakes his head. ‘There’s nothing out there for me.’

‘Really? You don’t want to know about your home anymore? Where you came from?’ His brow creases and he worries that Michael has given up too much for him.

But Michael reaches up and smooths out the crease with his thumb. ‘You are my home and I’m way more concerned about where we’re going. The past is the past. But the future can be anything we want it to be.’

‘And you’re really not sick of me yet?’ Alex smirks up at him. ‘I mean, I am unemployed now. Can’t even pay my half of the bills.’

Alex’s honorable discharge was one of the happiest things to ever happen to Michael. He’d work a thousand jobs if it meant Alex was free of the military.

‘Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to take care of you.’ He nuzzles his nose against Alex’s. ‘Staring with this.’ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a guitar pick, hands it to Alex.

‘Rings are kind of dumb. So, I got you your favorite pick. A whole box of them, actually.’ He laughs, a little nervous now.

‘What?’ Alex is confused at first – but then realization lights up his eyes. ‘Wait – are you – what are you doing right now, Michael?’

Michael shrugs, leaning back into the blankets. ‘Asking you to marry me. Figured two years – ‘

Alex doesn’t let him finish. He straddles Michael’s waist and kisses the proposal from his mouth. Answering with his tongue. They move against each other, Alex frantic – Michael trying to slow him down.

‘Is that a yes, then?’ Michael smiles against Alex lips.

‘That’s a fuck yes.’ Alex attacks his mouth again and Michael doesn’t try to stop him this time.

[god-zico]

[Disclaimer: This Chatbot blog is not affiliated with SKZ at all and doesn’t represent them in any way, shape or form! This was made for entertainment and fun only!]

This chat bot will have: 

↪NSFW content of all kinds-

Example- 

Violence 

Smut

Etc.

Please do not interact unless you're 18 or older or uncomfortable with such themes!-

Please keep in mind and remember that this is also a supernatural chatbot!

How to activate: 

Please follow me and make sure to click the button for notifs. That's optional but it would be helpful in case I post that I won't be active for a period of time or whatnot 

Please reblog and message first!

Please dm me your name, your pronouns, your kinks, a safe word, which member you would like and whether you're a top, bottom or switch!

Explain to me what direction you would like the plot to go and what type of relationship you'd like to have with your desired choice of boy!

I will most likely ask you questions to get to know you and what you want a bit better

Maybe tell me a bit about yourself. That's optional but it'd make me happy if you did! 

How to deactivate:

Simply say "I'm sorry, this isn't working out. Lets break up." 

To reactivate simply say "I made a mistake, please take me back." 

Be warned that depending on which member you choose, each will react differently. Some will act cold, some will be assholes and others may just be slightly distant until you can earn their trust again so be careful breaking up with them. 

Additional Information:

Please I am only one person so if I reply slowly please forgive me ok-

My time zone is EST 

Please don't let the rp get out of hand with pure smut. Don't get me wrong I like smut but I'd like to create an interesting plot with you and get to know you as well. I'm a hoe for that storyline- 

This is my first time running a chatbot blog so please forgive me if I make any errors~

To talk to admin while rping please you " // " before you type so that I know you're talking ooc or submit an ask.

I rp lit and semi lit but i have no problem using non lit if requested. Please know that when I rp my replies are quite long and can and will take me from 5 - 10 minutes to reply back if you don't request a specific type of rp style. 

I will not be adding Woojin to the mix as for obvious reasons- 

Jeongin will be part of the list of boys you will be able to pick from. He's a legal adult so don't @ me ok-

Sometimes I forget to reply so if I don't reply for more than a day, I give you full permission to spam my bitchass as much as you like until I reply-

But at the same time if I slow down my rp with you so much it might be because I've lost interest-

Not trying to be harsh but if our rp is purely smut and no story line I just don't find it fun anymore-

Now since that's been taken care of, let's dive into the members prompts and plot lists-

Bang Chan(Werewolf Shifter): 

NSFW

He's a werewolf with a serious dEddy kink-

Can be both a hard and soft dom. Just depends on the moment. 

Can and will fuck you into the mattress-

Won't submit unless forced to because he's a stubborn little bItCh!

Don't disobey him or else you'll be punished-

Call him Chris or Daddy to get him wound up

Has a breeding kink due to his ruts (I'll avoid this kink if you request-)

Boi moans….a lot...

Actually it's not just moans, he grunts and groans and makes tiny noises but he honestly tries not to-

Boi has his hard dom reputation to live up to!

Also! Dear Lord-....being a wolf sure has its pros but for you they may as well equal to cons as well-

Example! Dude has super strength, baby and not to mention he's got this predator/prey thing goin on with him-

Like….will literally hunt your ass down in the house and fuck you upside down, forwards, sideways, you name it! 

He sees you as his play thing and would enjoy it if you ran so that he could chase you down- 

SFW 

He's actually super sweet

Loved to cuddle. Remember he's basically a puppy-

He gets jealous easy so refrain from bringing up other boys (unless you choose more than one boy but he still gets a tad bit possessive so….yeye) 

Will kiss you and hug you constantly 

Will not quit calling you cute/adorable cause he does not lie. All of y'all are cuties-

Please be cautious on a full moon, he can get pretty dangerous- 

Lee Minho(Warlock):

NSFW 

Ya boi likes to use certain spells to his advantage in the bedroom-

Aphrodisiac spells, conjuring up ice or candles or temperature play, using his magic to bind you to the bed without any sort of restraints, etc.

Dude has a crazy high sex drive tbh. He can go when-ever for how long where-ever

Hard dom for sure and will only submit if he wants something from you or will use it as leverage to punish you later- 

Don't make him angry! This boy is into all kinds of kinky shit and will punish you however he sees fit- 

If you happen to make him submit though he's got a softer side to him and will be extremely bratty! 

SFW 

Ok but seriously…. he's crazy good at magic 

Uses his powers to do pretty much everything-

Cooking, cleaning, potion brewing, etc.

Loves to use body manipulation to force your body into his so he can cuddle you-

He may not seem like it but he's a big ol softy-

Please kiss him! He needs to be loved on back or else he'll get clingy!

Seo Changbin(Incubus):

NSFW

Please beware of this boy's sex drive! It's way worse than Minho's! 

Like not even kidding! Boy can fuck you nonchalantly af while doing anything and not seem bothered! 

You on the other hand will most likely be a moaning mess while he's barely paying attention

He can and will fuck you silly without even trying-

That ability is literally in his genes seeing as he's basically a sex demon- 

He has a fascination with sex toys but barely uses them as he tends to forget about them easily

Will literally fuck you randomly-

Oh your doing paperwork? Not anymore! Watching tv? Nada! Cooking? Nope!

He's a huge switch but doesn't mind mainly domming if you're not a switch or dom yourself-

SFW

This man is basically a 5 year old in a man's body sometimes-

Like he does some of the dumbest shit you could think of…

Sliding down the stairs on a piece of cardboard after pouring water down them is a prime example-

Even though he's a literal idiot he knows you love him and wouldn't have him any other way. 

Majorly cHaOTic- 

He tries to act all tough and cool but honestly he's a big ol baby!

Speaking of baby-

Boy loves to be babied as much as possible even if he doesn't admit it. 

Like he just loves cuddles and any type of skinship tbh.

Will kiss you when you're unprepared and will laugh at you if you get startled-

May sometimes randomly text you out of pure boredom cause even though he's an incubus, boy still suffers from quarantine boredomitus- 

Hwang Hyunjin(Dragon Shifter):

NSFW

Ok so...another boy with a breeding kink???!!!(If you request to not have this kink I'll avoid it)

If you're into the breeding kink thing, he will literally fill you up until you're oozing and simply cannot hold anymore of his essence- 

No pregnancies though cause….gross...children *shudders in disgust* 

Will degrade you until your a crying and whimpering mess for him

Will most likely demand that you beg for his cock-

He's fuckin extra like that. Don't ask me, I don't make the rules. Someone call him up and ask him why tf he's like that. 

Sinful moans to the max! He's very vocal during sex!

Like...dirty talk is a must! He says some of the most sinful shit you've ever heard-

I know I mentioned degrading but damn can he praise you to the moon and back as well if you're being a good little girl/boy for him-

Enjoys calling you princess for some reason.

SFW

As a dragon, he hoards "treasures" 

Which means everything shiny in your house is getting tucked away into his nest of blankets, pillows and covers. 

Boy can breathe fire so he does little tricks with his fire breath for you

Make sure you tell him how talented he is or he'll get cranky 

He's a sassy little shit!!!!!! Sdhkedjalwld!!!!!!!!

Teases you just to see you get upset

Since he's a dragon he can regulate his body heat so when it's cold he's basically your personal heater. 🤗

Han Jisung(Tengu):

NSFW

Bird boi is at max horniness all the time tbh. 

Most of the time,since he's part crow, he will make a nest in the bed with covers and pillows before fucking you???

Don't judge him, he's born like that-

He can and will use his wings to distract you

If your successfully distracted he will pounce on you as if he were part cat instead of bird- 

He likes missionary or doggy style if his wings are out so that it doesn't hurt or strain them. 

He's a cocky little shit tbh-

Says some of the crudest shit just to get you flustered. He has no censor and he just keeps on goin-

Will thrust into you with no mercy because he knows his baby can take it and will use the safe word if it gets to be too much.

Does not hold back on the kinks! He will try anything at least once! 

Unless its bdsm while his wings are out cause that's dangerous-

SFW

He too like Hyunjin, likes to steal your shiny objects such as jewelry and such. 

It's not his fault tbh, it's purely his genetics

And in all fairness, he desperately tries not to but his genes always get the best of him-

He likes to watch you dance. He doesn't quite know why, it's just really hypnotic 

Has tried to befriend birds at the park before-

Didn't work. They just flew away from him like they do normal people-

Speaking of birds, he once almost lost his shit when he saw someone throw breadcrumbs on the ground and damn near threw himself to the floor to get to them-

He's lowkey a dumbass tbh. Smh- 

Lee Felix(Vampire):

NSFW

Major blood kink-

Like his dick will get 10× harder at the scent of your blood.

Being a vampire, he finds it hard to control himself around you if you start to bleed. 

Will suck hickies onto your skin before, during and after sex-

He just likes the teasing temptation to bite you as he can taste the blood buildup under your skin 

Will sink his teeth in your neck, wrists and thighs without so much of a second thought- 

Would honestly love it if you pulled his hair while he drinks from your thighs

And then would totally eat you out as if he were starving right after feeding of you- 

And honestly, he's damn good with his tongue!

Also, boy has a deep ass voice! 

And if you can get off from it, he'll use it against you for sure-

SFW

Since he's a vampire, he likes to use his super speed to scare the fuck outta you

Like you'd be doin something and outta nowhere he'd pop up right in front of you-

Queue girly startled scream from you~

He'd laugh at you after cause he finds it hilarious.

He gets kinda clingy but his skin is cold so make sure you wear warm clothes when cuddling him 

Speaking of cuddles-

It happens everywhere and all the time

His duality is like a light switch btw

One second he's all giggly and happy and the next he's all serious and deep voiced-....

Won't let you leave the house at night...like at all

Will most likely hunt you down if you happen to sneak past him and actually make it outside-

Kim Seungmin(Merman Shifter):

NSFW

Has a corruption kink

Choking kink to the max

Literally will eat you out in the water

Enjoys seeing you squirm

Forced submission is his domain

Will act bratty and deny you everything until you’re so worked up that you end up begging

He likes testing your limits and will push until he sees fit (with consent ofc-)

Switches between a hard and a soft dom just to confuse you

Will smile innocently as he watches you squirm, as if it wasn’t his fault because it’s not-

Literally the god of edging and orgasm denial

Is more of a lazy dom, he’ll be laying down while you suck him off as he fingers you open slowly

Can be on bottom or top, but he’s the one in control unless said otherwise

He likes it when you suck on his fingers without him having to tell you to

Will 10/10 take advantage of you if you waltz in drunk (would have to be discussed beforehand)

SFW

Literally will cling to you 24/7

You’ll walk in on him half asleep in the tub in the middle of a bubble bath at midnight

Will accidentally flood your kitchen sink because “there needs to be more water in the house”

Constantly needs to consume or be submerged in water or else he’ll get sleepy

He eats a lot of Tic-Tacs- like, a lot

Enjoys blowing up bubblegum and always has some with him

He goes crazy for bubbles so blow some with him

Likes to dance with you randomly to whatever song is playing

He enjoys planning surprise dates!

Ice cream fanatic- he goes crazy for that, it’s a wonder why he isn’t broke yet

Actually worries a lot about you and will constantly baby you

Likes to listen to soft classical music when he’s sleeping

Loves to prank you and then cuddle you afterwards because he needs attention-

Yang Jeongin(Angel):

NSFW

Boy has an oppa kink for sure-

Call him oppa, he gets a kick out of it

As an angel he has a softer way of turning you into a whining mess than the rest.

Much like Jisung, he will use his wings to distract you but will be more subtle about it-

Please say everything and anything that's unholy. He will get a kick outta that too-

Likes to please more than to be pleased

Like….sit on his face and he will go at it for hours baby-

He will honestly love to be subbed and put into his place

BUT

When he doms you, you best believe that you're in for a ride

He enjoys bdsm quite a bit. Maybe a little too much.

Like, as long as his wings are tucked in, please tie him up

And if he's dom he'll waste no time in making sure that your arms and legs are tied/cuffed to the bed posts.

Also has a sensory deprivation kink along with overstimulation-

SFW

He LOVES to be babied tbh

Like please watch disney movies with this moron

Enjoys sweets a little bit too much- 

Can actually cook pretty decently so you know for sure you won't be going hungry-

Can and will sing you to sleep cause he knows he has a beautiful voice

Sassy and conceded little shit-

When bored, he will bug you for hours on end until you entertain him 

Please give him extra love and affection cause he will die on the spot if you refuse to- 

He's really silly and extra so be prepared for multiple surprises around the house

Like sticky notes on the fridge or counter saying "I love you" and "I may be an angel but you're my saviour" and other cheesy shit like that-

Ok but....how the hell did this also turn in a headcannons post????

Anyways enjoy and choose wisely! Remember that you can pick more than one member but if you could kindly keep the max to 3 that's be helpful- 

Have fun and don't be shy to dm or ask me anything, my lovelies!!!

[maddestzoomer]

honey and glass

chapter one - early morning thoughts

read on ao3

summary: The feelings Max has for Eleven both alarm and attract her. Now that the girl she likes has moved away, it's time Max comes to terms with her emotions.

warnings: swearing, violence, homophobia, neil hargrove being an asshole, grief, general angst

word count: 2.3k

a.n.

- i thought this would be a really cute concept, so i decided to turn it into a story :) if you end up with any thoughts, feelings, or helpful criticisms about this concept, feel free to share them by either messaging me or leaving them in the comments! <3

OCTOBER 21st, 1986

Who do you think of in the early mornings?

When the sun flirts with the treetops and your throat aches with dryness, who lingers in the back of your mind?

For Max, it's almost always Eleven. Sometimes it's Billy and sometimes it's even her dad, Sam, but more often than not, it's flashes of that lovely brunette.

Now, though, thoughts of El don't just happen in the early mornings when one's brain is foggy and grey. It happens when she reads a comic or when she skates past the destroyed remnants of Starcourt. It happens when she hangs out with Lucas or when she listening to sappy '80s love songs.

Oddly enough, thoughts of El almost always come whirl around Max's mind when she's around a girl named Robin.

The two had gotten to know one another rather awkwardly, both being sat down on a stretcher as firefighters and other EMS workers buzzed like busy bees around them. There's no better way to meet a new friend than through shared trauma, right?

Robin tried to comfort the shocked, crying Max through distracting stories, but the words got jumbled and the stories turned soupy. Enough so that Max ended up laughing a bit, though it was a sad laugh. It was a laugh that still held pained tears in her eyes- but it was better than nothing.

Over the months, the two had gotten closer; sort of becoming the female friendship equivalent of Steve and Dustin.

Their friendship is pleasant and comforting. Robin acts almost as though she were the big sibling Max never got to (and will never again get to) have. Plus, it was nice to have another girl around after Eleven left.

Max was pulled from her thoughts as she heard Neil walk down the hallway, all slow feet and heavy steps. She felt her chest grow tight and her stomach twist as she clenched her jaw.

Ever since Billy's death, Neil has been absolute hell to be around. An almost constant haze of alcohol and cigarette smoke follows him like a kicked dog, making him sour at his best and raging at his worst.

Max gripped her blanket tightly as Neil walked past her door, which was thankfully closed.

It's officially been a year since she moved from California, now being October in Hawkins. One full rotation around the Sun was enough to completely toss her world upon its head.

It was strange to think about how different her life was when she was back in California. All the people she didn't know, all the feelings she didn't have.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Sometimes she thought about what her life would have been if she'd stayed in California and lived with her dad- but she didn't like paying much mind to those thoughts given how little they changed anything.

Her feet were greeted with cold floors, earning a soft cringe from Max as she stood up. Walking to her dresser, she got out a pair of jeans and an old, sun-bleached t-shirt.

It was Saturday, and Max's plans for the day were relatively nonexistent, though she did know she'd like to stop by and visit with Robin for a little while.

She had a few questions she needed answering and she figured (hoped, mostly) Robin may have been able to help.

She got dressed, then brushed her hair and teeth before washing her face with cold water.

Today felt heavy, which was strange. Normally, once the sun greeted the sky, icky feelings were banished to a corner of Max's mind until the moon again rose. It was easier that way; to smile and laugh without worrying, even if it wasn't genuine.

Maybe the icky feeling had to do with the questions Max wanted to ask Robin, or maybe it had to do with the fact Max hardly got any sleep.

Whatever it was, though, Max didn't want to think about it much longer, and so she ignored it.

Max was fantastic at ignoring feelings. Some would call it compartmentalizing, but Max would call it self preservation.

She grabbed her jean jacket, shouldering it on before slipping on a pair of shoes, then picking her skateboard up. It was still early- 7:48 am to be more specific- so she figured the rest of the party would still be sleeping, but probably not Robin. The girl was the queen of rising early in the morning.

Slowly, she came from her room, already smelling early morning cigarette smoke and misplaced anger.

Her stomach twisted in knots as she heard some rummaging in the kitchen- a glass fall and then some mumbled curses.

Just then, she decided breakfast wouldn't be a priority today. Quietly, she closed her door again before heading to her window.

She opened the window, biting down on her bottom lip as it squeaked open.

Softly, she huffed as she tossed her skateboard from the window, then jumping down with an uncomfortable thud.

Fall whispers in the chilly early morning air, telling of the winter that's to come.

Max runs a hand through her thick hair, picking her board up before beginning to walk to the road where she could ride.

If she were being completely honest, Max seriously isn't a morning person- but she can appreciate how quiet the world becomes when the sun has just barely risen and how it can feel like the world is yours, even if only for a little while.

. . .

If there was one thing Max was usually thankful for, it's the fact Robin doesn't live all that far from her house- Only a fifteen-minute ride on skateboard.

Today, however, Max wasn't as thankful for her friend's close residence. Maybe this wasn't the right thing to do... but who else could she turn to? Who did she trust enough to tell her secret to?

Secrets are what define people, as opposed to what one decides to show the world. There's a type of safety that comes with secret-keeping- but there's also insecurity and doubt.

So... how would the world react to a girl loving another girl?

That single thought made Max chew on the flesh inside her cheek, beginning to feel her pulse quicken. What even was love, anyway? Max knew gay people existed- men who loved men and women who loved women. After all, she was raised near San Francisco.

Robin had already come out to Max.

Well- sort of.

Max had jokingly asked Robin if she was crushing on anyone, to which Robin grew quiet. Quiet enough for it to become worrisome.

Max became stressed when she saw Robin beginning to drift off, and so she immediately apologized for asking a seemingly invasive question, which only made Robin chuckle a little awkwardly

"I... uh," Robin let out a sharp breath, smiling faintly "You wouldn't know her."

Her?

Max didn't press Robin any further after that. She felt she didn't need to, and on top of that, she didn't want to make Robin any more uncomfortable than she already clearly was.

That was a couple of months ago, and the topic of sexuality hasn't come up since. That isn't to say Max hasn't thought about what Robin said.

Max thought of her interaction with Robin often. It was the reason Max hoped talking with Robin would help answer some of her questions... But at the same time, the questions she had made her feel uncomfortably queasy.

The very last thing Max wanted to do would be to damage her friendship between her and Robin, and there was a part of her that thought the questions she had would make the older girl want to sever their friendship.

Max swallowed down harshly as she realized she was nearing Robin's street.

Worst comes to worst- Max can decide not to ask the questions. She can just say something about her wanting to get out of the house- something about Neil being in a predictably bad mood- which really wouldn't be a lie... just, sort of double-speaking.

The feeling of unease only grew stronger as she skated closer to her friend's home. For a quick moment, she considered turning around.

Fuck- Was this even appropriate- to show up at your friend's house unannounced at nearly 8 in the morning with questions one fears the answers to?

Maybe it was.

Max stomped her foot on the ground a few times until she was at a stop, then bent over and grabbed her board. She already felt her chest growing tighter, and so she took a deep breath.

She stared at her friend's house for a few moments (studying it, thinking of the conversation ahead, contemplating what the actual fuck is next) before beginning to walk up the home's cement path and to the porch, where she felt her heart quicken slightly more with every step

Then, taking another deep breath, she raised her arm and gently knocked on the door.

Max knew Robin's mom wouldn't be home just yet considering she was a nurse who worked the night-shift, which made things ever-so-slightly easier.

Robin's mom, Lily, was a lovely woman, but it was better if it was only her and Robin- especially considering Max didn't know what her friend's reaction would be. And, on top of it, she didn't have much longer to think about those possibilities.

"Oh- Hey, Max!" A messy-haired Robin greeted with a smile as she opened the door. "What are you doing here?" Her tone wasn't at all angry or bothered, just genuinely curious.

"I just needed to get out of the house." Max said as Robin moved from the doorway, wordlessly welcoming the younger girl into her home.

"Fair enough." Robin said, closing the door. She knew what Max's home life was like.

"Want some french toast? I accidentally made extra." By 'accidentally made extra', Robin actually meant she was fine with sacrificing some of her food for Max.

"Uh, yes, please." Max replied softly, slipping her shoes off and setting her skateboard down at the doorway. Seeing Robin helped to extinguish some of that anxiety- but still, part of it remained, floating around in her brain.

Max found herself glancing around the home a few times to pictures of a baby Robin and to the occasional small, somewhat floral painting. The house's aesthetic was so completely opposite of Robin's- all peach walls and sea-foam carpets with an almost constant lingering smell of bleach.

"You have any plans for today?" Robin asked, glancing over her shoulder as she walked to the kitchen.

Max shook her head as she followed. "No. Not yet, anyway."

"Good, cause' I want you to hang out with me today." Robin turned away, grabbing a spatula so she could put two slices on a plate.

Max frowned a bit, smiling slightly. "And what does 'hanging out' entail?"

"I dunno," Robin said with a small chuckle, placing the plate down on the kitchen's counter. "I just wanna get out of the house for today. I hate being cooped up all the time."

Robin, unsurprisingly, hates staying in one place for too long. She likes going on walks and driving around- exploring and such. There's almost never enough to see and do, especially in a town as boring and conservative as Hawkins.

"Alright then."

Robin added another two pieces of french toast to a different plate, then went to a drawer to grab out two forks. The whole time she did this, Max watched her quietly. Even though Robin was always fun and interesting to spend time with, Max still simply couldn't stop thinking of what her reaction might be.

But Robin likes girls too, right? So what kind of homophobic hypocrite would one have to be to push away a young girl with questions of her sexuality?

"Want some coffee?" Robin asked, which earned a small smile and nod from Max. There weren't many people she knew who'd offer a 14-year-old coffee. She liked it, though. It made her feel more adult in some ways, even though it was only a beverage.  

Silence again fell over the two as Robin prepared for the two to eat. The silence wasn't uncomfortable (at least not to Robin), but it did feel strange to Max.

Glancing to the clock on the wall, Max saw it was a little past 8 now. Fuck.

Getting the question out of the way now might be better, right? If Robin reacts badly, Max can just have the whole day to herself to process possibly losing a friend.

Max ran a hand through her hair, wishing she could simply pause her thoughts. Slowly, she trod over to the counter. Inside, her feelings felt brewed and blended- unable to make any one distinct emotion.

"What kind of creamer do you want? We have French Vanilla and Pumpkin Spice." Robin said, making her way over to the fridge.

Max didn't bother answering the question. Instead, she simply stared at the egg-shell white of the counter, contemplating what the everliving fuck she should do. Her back was turned to Robin, which was comforting in an offbeat way.

Her mind couldn't stop jumping from two opposites- from thinking Robin will in no way help and will think she's weird to thinking she will actually be able to help given she sort of implied she likes girls.

"Robin?" Max finally croaked out, her voice sounding unfamiliarly insecure. She harshly bit down on the inside of her bottom lip upon feeling Robin's eyes land on her. At that moment, she wished she could shrink down and disappear or simply, that she never spoke in the first place.

Robin frowned once she heard Max's tone, just how peculiar it sounded. Almost automatically, something felt off. "Umm... Yeah?"

Just say it.

Just say it.

It's not that hard.

It's not that fucking hard.

"How do you know you like girls?"

[tsarisfanfiction]

Not Alone

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: John, Scott, EOS

John makes a miscalculation with unexpected consequences.

Another @badthingshappenbingo​​​ this time with the square “Home Invasion” - with John (as requested by @such-a-random-rambler​).  A surprisingly light-hearted number this time, considering the challenge name...

I’m still taking prompts for non-Scott TAG characters for the other squares!  If you’d like to see what I’ve received already, head over to the Challenges>Bad Things Happen Bingo page on my blog but duplicate requests are fine, too!

John didn’t remember who decided this was a good idea, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had been past-him, approximately twenty-four hours previously.  That was unlike him – bad decisions got people killed so he’d learnt early on not to make them.  Always work with all available data to reach the optimum plan of action and proceed accordingly.  Maybe not simple, but certainly efficient.

He must have been more tired than he’d realised to make such a large error in calculation.  It was a flaw of supernova proportions that at least one of his siblings must have also noticed, but in true annoying little brother fashion, none of them had said anything, leaving him to dig his own grave.

“John!  What’s the kill switch for this virus!”

He put his head in his hands and pretended he didn’t hear Scott roaring in the kitchen section of the gravity ring.

Get Scott off the planet a while.  Give him a break from the stress of life and International Rescue by relocating him to Thunderbird Five where he could spend extended time away from younger brothers he refused to break down in front of – John was a long-standing confidante, the advantage of being second eldest.  Keep him out from under everyone’s feet while he was grounded, because a grounded Scott was a nightmare.

That was probably why none of the others had pointed out the flaw in John’s plan.  An escape from Scott at his most frustrated wasn’t something they’d willingly give up.

“John, your brother is attempting to destroy the bagel toaster.”

A week, they’d agreed. A week of Scott on Thunderbird Five, some nice brotherly time without little brothers interrupting every two seconds.

A week of Scott and EOS trying to kill each other.

How John had forgotten that Scott and EOS were both terrified of each other – and both manifested their fear as aggression – he had no idea.

“EOS, did you throw bagels at him?” he asked, quietly despairing.  It was one of her favourite pranks – harmless if annoying – but while John was now used to it, Scott…

Well, Scott was still stuck back when EOS was trying to kill them.  Launching projectiles at him was a bad idea.

“Analysis suggested that humour is often used in bonding,” she not-answered, telling John everything he needed to know.  He groaned, head still in hands.

“Don’t throw bagels at Scott,” he told her, wincing as the sound of his brother’s frustration made its way to his bunk.  “We want him to like you, remember?”  And trust, more importantly, but trust was going to be hard to cultivate if they kept winding each other up.

Why had he thought this was a good idea?

With another groan, he stood up and made his way through the gravity ring before Scott broke something. To think he’d been looking forwards to this.

“Scott, please don’t wreck my kitchen,” he sighed as he entered the compartment to see Scott banging on the top of the bagel maker with his good arm.

“I’m not!” Scott protested with all the righteousness of an eldest sibling before landing another hit.  John winced and hurried over to his side, catching his hand firmly.

“Scott,” he insisted. “If that breaks there’s no breakfast until it’s fixed and I, for one, don’t plan on spending the day fixing a perfectly functioning toaster.”

Scott scowled and pulled his hand back.  “Your pet virus corrupted it,” he grumbled, and John rolled his eyes.

“EOS isn’t a virus, Scott, and nor is she my ‘pet’.”  He cast a quick eye over the machine, but it didn’t seem like Scott had managed to damage it.

“I suppose it isn’t,” Scott grumbled darkly.  “If it was, you’d be able to control it.”

John knew better than to get into a debate with Scott about EOS when he was in a black mood.  There was a conversation there that needed to be had, but not now.  “Her.” Well, most of it wasn’t to be had now.  “EOS is female.”

“How is a virus a female?” Scott snapped.  “It’s just a jumble of numbers.”  Behind him, one of Thunderbird Five’s internal cameras ringed itself with red dots but EOS, thankfully, remained silent.  Hopefully she realised interrupting would do more harm than good.

“You don’t have any problems calling MAX ‘he’,” John observed, and watched Scott’s jaw stiffen as his teeth ground together, braced for the next comeback.  When Scott was wound up, logic wasn’t always an effective weapon against him.  Sometimes he just had to rant it out before he was open to listening to reason.

When the expected retort didn’t come, Scott stood stiffly in what was effectively space-rated civvies (because even though he was on Thunderbird Five he was firmly off duty) in the middle of the kitchen, John mentally ran through their exchange, trying to pinpoint the reason for the uncharacteristic- ah.

MAX.  The Aurora Generator.  Virgil.

The real reason Scott was off duty and effectively kicked off the planet by their younger siblings.

Colonel Casey – and therefore the GDF – had been told that Scott had been injured trying to secure the conductor in order to prevent the explosion.  While it wasn’t quite a bare-faced lie, it was hardly the whole truth.

He’d first wrenched his shoulder when he’d lost control of the pod and flipped it on the ice. Virgil had patched that up during their brief camp, only for him to jar the same arm again being flung from the top of the spire by the charge that had shot through him – John was grateful for their suits being able to redirect enough that only the inner electronics had fried, and not Scott himself.  Physically, Scott just had to take it easy for a few days.  The sling was for the Colonel’s benefit whenever she made contact, and Scott wore it with minimal complaint.

To anyone who knew Scott, that was a massive red flag.  Scott was incapable of ‘taking it easy’, and definitely refused to show weakness if it could at all be avoided.  It helped sell him being off duty to the GDF, but to his family – all well aware that it wasn’t as bad as it looked – it betrayed the deeper problem.

The only time Scott willingly showed one weakness was to hide another.

John wasn’t known for physical contact compared to his more tactile siblings, but he put a hand on Scott’s shoulder.  His brother stiffened, but didn’t shrug him off.

“Come on,” he coaxed, drawing his brother away from the kitchen, the topic of EOS dropped for the moment.  Scott followed, head down and reluctant.  He’d never give in so easily at home, but that was why he was up on Five, away from the brothers that looked up to him for strength.  John did, too, but John was older, saw more, and had never let Scott hide from him.  Up on Five, it was just Scott and John, alone together in a way that almost never happened ever since Virgil had been born.

There was only one bed on Thunderbird Five.  It was all she needed, most of the time; John generally didn’t have guests ‘overnight’. John sat down on it, and after a moment Scott joined him.  Neither of them spoke; John looked down past their feet to the view of Earth passing by before they slowly turned away to face the depths of space.  It was a calming view for him.

Scott, shoulder pressed lightly against his own, was never quite as comfortable in space.  Still, he too was looking out through the clear floor of the gravity ring.

They had a week before Scott went back home.  A week of Scott being technically off duty in the communications centre of International Rescue.  John had no illusions about Scott actually sitting back and doing nothing.  It wasn’t in his brother’s nature.  No matter that he was supposed to be unwinding and trying to relieve some of the piles of stress on his shoulders.

“What am I doing, John?”

He hadn’t expected Scott to address the issue so quickly, but that just proved how shaken up he was. Not pulling his eyes away from the starry view below his feet, he leaned into his brother’s shoulder just a little more, a subtle acknowledgement of his words.

That was all Scott needed.

“I don’t know how Dad did it,” he continued.  The arm closest to John shifted; if he looked, he knew he’d see Scott had his head in his hands – both of them, sling be damned.  John would have to check his shoulder later.  “He never gave up, always gave everything he had…” he trailed off for a moment, but John still didn’t interject.  He knew where this was going, knew what the difference between Dad and Scott was, but that wasn’t what Scott needed to hear.  Not yet.

This was why Scott was grounded, why he was up away from the world in Thunderbird Five.  As far as physical injuries went, Scott’s was minor, but the rescue had brought to light all the cracks behind the façade Scott tried to put up.  He pushed too hard, too fast, and there was only one person still alive that he’d ever properly open up to.

John wasn’t naïve enough to think that Scott would spill everything going on in his head; long-term confidante he might be, but he was still Scott’s little brother.  It didn’t matter that John saw everything on Tracy Island – more than he ever let his brothers know, and he’d had to disconnect some of his usually-open links before Scott arrived to hide the fact that he constantly kept an eye on them even when they thought they were alone – Scott wouldn’t tell him everything.  But it would be more than he’d tell anyone else.

Sure enough, when Scott started again, it was painfully obvious that he was choosing his words.  John listened, anyway, hearing the words he said and the insecurities he didn’t.  Not being good enough, never being good enough, failure.  Scott never said as such, but he didn’t need to; John knew his brother well enough.

“You need a break,” he said finally, once Scott had said all he was going to.  Scott sighed, deep enough that John could feel his shoulder shift.

“I know,” he admitted, words that would never have passed his lips before the Aurora Generator and the groundwork Virgil laid, not even to John.  “But I can’t.”

“That’s why you’re here,” John reminded him, pressing against him for just a moment before letting the pressure fade away to nothing as he stood up.  It was late, Tracy Island time.  Thunderbird Five only had one bed.  “Get some sleep.”  He didn’t need it, not yet, and while the bed could take the two of them if they curled up together tight enough, it made more sense for them to sleep in shifts.

John sincerely hoped Scott and EOS wouldn’t tear each other – or Thunderbird Five – to pieces while he took his naps later.

Scott didn’t protest, aware of both the bed situation and John’s different sleep schedule.  “Wake me if you need me,” was all that he said, and John made a noise of agreement before leaving the segment.

The first thing he did was disable the emergency alarms to the sleeping quarters.  Off duty or not, Scott would come running the moment he heard that there was a call.  John dealt with them solo all the time – it was his job, after all – and now he had EOS to streamline things further.  He wouldn’t need Scott.

“I do not understand why your brother insists on referring to me incorrectly despite repeated reminders,” EOS said suddenly, the moment he finished.  Glancing up at the camera she was currently inhabiting, because dealing with EOS required visual cues rather than audial, he grimaced.  Her lights were yellow, not outright hostile, but not pleased, either.  “I understand that I am not liked, but he does not respect me, either.  Why did you invite him up here?”

There was nothing he could say that would appease her.  Explaining Scott’s situation, exposing the weaknesses and fears he had shared knowing John would never tell, would damage his relationship with his brother irreparably, and he couldn’t do that, not even to teach EOS.

“Scott doesn’t like change,” he said instead.  Not a lie, but a broad enough truth.  “It takes him time to accept.”  Scott was good at adapting, had learnt the skill far too young when he’d ended up for all intents and purposes parentless with four younger brothers to raise, but adapting on demand was not the same as accepting the reason for the adaptation.

“None of your other brothers continue to refer to me as a virus,” she pointed out.  Yellow lights flickered.  “Why is he different?”

Because he’s scared of you.  Because if you wanted to kill me he knows he couldn’t stop you.  Because he couldn’t even tell I was in danger when you impersonated me.  You almost made some of his worst nightmares come true.

“Humans are all unique,” he said out loud.  “Every one of us learns and applies our knowledge at different paces; there’s no set formula for it.”

“That sounds very inefficient,” EOS commented.  Her lights flickered again.  “And very inconvenient.”

“It is,” he agreed whole-heartedly.  “But it’s a quirk of humanity we have to accept and work around.”

“When will your brother stop insulting me?” she asked.  “You are his brother; you must know his unique formula.”

John sighed, glancing back at the closed doors separating him from his hopefully-but-probably-not-sleeping brother.  “It isn’t that simple,” he tried to explain, walking further away from Scott.  Overhead the camera whirred and followed him.  “There isn’t a formula for a person’s actions. It changes every time; there’s no quantitative time frame.”

“That means there is a possibility that Scott Tracy will never accept me?”  Lights flashed red, unhappy and threatened.  Hunted.  John felt a flash of fear; he trusted EOS, but if she and Scott never reached an understanding, what would she do?

“He will do.”  John would make sure of it, because he had to protect EOS but he had to protect Scott, too.  Besides, Scott trusted him.

“How can you be certain when there is no reliable data?”

“Because he’s my brother,” he said.  “I know him. If there was no chance, he would never have let you stay.”

“It was not his decision to make.”

John remembered the veiled order, the you know what has to be done.  Scott could have overridden him, ordered the destruction of Thunderbird Five, and Alan would have obeyed.  He hadn’t, but he could have done.  Scott had made his decision then about EOS’s fate, even if he didn’t yet know it himself.

Now they just had to at least manage to be cordial to each other – a task they were both making out to be far harder than need be.

A distress call chose that moment to come in, and John let the matter drop.  It was something the two of them would have to handle between themselves.  He just hoped he’d have a Thunderbird left by the time they were done.

Three days into Scott’s week off-planet, multiple rescues and occasional interference from a brother who refused to sit back and do nothing, even if all he could do was instruct over comms while John scavenged up data, Virgil called to check in on their older brother’s progress.  Dishevelled and about ready to tear his hair out, John dived into a section away from both Scott and EOS.

“It’s awful,” he told his younger brother, whose face immediately took on a look of panicked concern. “Get me out of here.  Please.”

“Get you out of there?” Virgil asked, confusion edging in over the other emotions as he registered John’s desperate plea.  “What do you mean?  If Scott’s not okay-”

“Scott’s fine,” John interrupted.  He was. More than fine, in fact.  A chaotic headache on a brother who hadn’t lived in such close proximity with his big brother for years and had forgotten how terrible it could be.

And now there were two of them.

“Then… what’s awful?” The concern had all but faded away, Virgil’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “If Scott’s okay, then that’s good, right?”

“No.  Well, yes, of course it’s good.  More than good.”  He was babbling.  That was bad. He was the Voice Who Answers, the one on the end of every call.  He shouldn’t babble.  “But they’re tag-teaming me!”

“They?  Who- oh.  EOS?” Virgil’s frown got deeper.  “I thought Scott and EOS didn’t get on?”

“They didn’t,” John agreed. “Then they realised they had something in common.”  Waking up sometime around the forty-eight hour mark into Scott’s visit to find the pair of them talking politely to each other – EOS’s lights green and Scott with a small grin on his face – had been fantastic.  No more feuding, no more ‘virus’ accusations and red lights turning his Thunderbird – his home – into a warzone.  John had been delighted.

John had been a fool.

“Something in common?” Virgil asked.  “John, what happened?”

“EOS’s first priority is self-preservation,” he explained.  “I promised to protect her when I invited her to stay, so apparently, her idea of self-preservation is now protecting me.”

“And that’s a problem?”  Virgil stared at him.  “John, you know we’re always worried about you being alone up there.  That’s why you’re always on the wire with us.  If EOS is looking out for you, then that’s a good thing.”

John buried his face in his hands.  Virgil was missing the point entirely.

“Scott agrees with you,” he said into his fingers, voice muffled but still clear enough to be picked up by the comm.  “Scott also thinks this is a good thing.”

“Of course he does,” Virgil shrugged.  “That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

Still missing the point.

“He’s teaching her to be a smother hen,” John hissed.

Virgil laughed like the annoying little brother he occasionally could be.  John had been hoping for a slightly more sympathetic reaction.

“You’re a big boy, Johnny,” he grinned, ignoring John’s eyeroll at the despised nickname.  Virgil was spending too much time around Gordon.  “You’ll survive.”

“John!”  Scott’s voice reverberated through the gravity ring. Thunderbird Five had never felt quite so small before.  “Where are you?”  John looked up at Virgil, still openly amused, and then towards the door Scott would no doubt be walking through within the next few seconds.  Time to employ a time-honoured tactic: playing his brothers off against each other.

“Virgil called,” he commented waving a hand towards the hologram as Scott inevitably walked in.  “Why don’t you two catch up while I go get dinner ready?”  Scott had yet to get the hang of cooking in space, and he didn’t give either brother a chance to protest before he ducked out of the segment.  Hopefully Virgil would snap back into medic mode and grill Scott about his physical state – and probe his mental one – before they started discussing Scott’s new protégé.

In the meantime, now that the opportunity had finally presented itself, John had damage control to do.

“EOS.”

Instantly, the nearest camera whirred into life and followed him to the kitchen – he did need to get dinner, after all.  “Is everything alright, John?  Your blood pressure and heart rate are both slightly elevated and your voice is modulating outside of recorded average range.  Do you need assistance with anything?”

John was going to murder Scott.

“No, EOS, I’m fine. But we need to talk about what Scott’s telling you.”

“Scott is assisting me with identifying signs of stress, illness and other afflictions that cause sub-optimal performance,” EOS informed him, her lights flashing green.

John sighed.  “I do not need my vital signs analysed constantly,” he protested.  “I’m glad you and Scott are getting on now, but you don’t need to follow everything he says.”

“I understand,” EOS told him.  It was probably supposed to be a reassurance, but she ruined it by continuing with “Scott told me you’d say that.”

“Of course he did.” Scott had raised four younger brothers, including him.  He was, therefore, unfortunately wise to the majority of their tricks and could predict their reactions with a reasonable accuracy.  John cast his mind to find something, anything, he could use to get EOS to back off.  “Did he also tell you to report every deviation to him?”

“Scott requested that I keep him informed whenever your vitals leave normal parameters,” EOS replied, and John groaned.

“Okay, no, that’s not happening,” he said firmly.  “EOS, you are not reporting every fluctuation to Scott.”

“Scott said that you would not like it.”  No, Scott was not defeating him on this.

“EOS, most fluctuations are normal and no reason for concern,” he ploughed on.  “Informing Scott of false positives won’t help. Look up the parable ‘the boy who cried wolf’.”

“There is no wolf in this situation, and both you and Scott are considered to be legally adults in all cultures who define adulthood as reaching a certain age,” EOS observed, and John rubbed at his face.

“It’s a parable, EOS. Look it up.”

“Very well.”  Her lights shifted to white and he was left in silence for a minute or so, which he used to tackle dinner.  Reheating pre-packaged food wasn’t exactly difficult, but retaining as much taste as possible was a skill John had down to a fine art at this point.

“John, I do not understand.” He glanced up at the camera, still with white lights surrounding the lens.  “Why do humans stop responding to repeated calls for assistance?”

“Because they get tired of reacting only to find they didn’t need to,” John explained.  “So, for example, if you were to keep telling Scott every time my vitals moved a little outside your expected parameters, if it’s always natural and of no concern he’ll eventually think that will always be the case and stop reacting.”

Her lights flashed yellow for a moment.

“So how do I maintain urgency?” she inquired.  “I understand that Scott would be distressed if he overlooked a concern.”

Distressed was putting it lightly.  Scott would be devastated.

“Only report if it’s serious,” he answered.  “Loss of coherency, loss of consciousness, that sort of thing.”

“I do not think Scott will agree with that,” EOS pointed out, and John rolled his eyes, because no, his smother hen of an older brother would not.

“Talk to him about it,” he suggested, hoping Scott would see some sense.  Otherwise, he’d have to give him a not-so-subtle shove.  “And tell me what you two decide.”  If he was going to be constantly monitored like he monitored his brothers (the irony was not lost on him), he was going to be aware of it.

“I will.”  The topic was dropped and John retrieved their now-edible food from the kitchen.

Surprisingly, it was Scott that next brought up the subject, several hours, one meal and two rescues later.

“You compared surveillance on your welfare to cry wolf?” he asked, throwing himself onto the bed, where John had been attempting to read a book to destress.  Not much reading had happened since Scott arrived.  “Really, John?”

“She was under the impression you wanted her to report every little fluctuation,” John retorted, not looking away from the pages.  “None of us have time for that.  I’d rather you didn’t have her reporting on me at all.”

“No chance,” Scott told him firmly.  “Living in space is dangerous, John.  If something happens…  We need as much warning as we can get to reach you in time.”  John’s mind flashed to a blurred red and white shape before darkness, and waking up a moment later to Alan’s worried face in Thunderbird Three’s cockpit.  From the look on Scott’s face, he wasn’t the only one remembering that close call.

“It’s never been a problem before,” he pointed out, but Scott shook his head.

“We didn’t have the capacity before.  EOS gives us that capacity, and it would make me feel a hell of a lot better about you being up here if we used it,” his older brother admitted.  “You’re not alone up here now, but EOS still listens to you more than me.”

“It wasn’t long ago that you wouldn’t talk to her,” John reminded him, selfishly glad that despite their sudden and intense camaraderie, EOS still prioritised him.

“She nearly killed you,” Scott retorted.

“A misunderstanding,” John corrected.

“Doesn’t matter.” Scott shook his head again.  “If you’d died, you’d still have been gone, misunderstanding or not.”  There was pain in his voice, and John abandoned his book to look at his brother.  “You trust her, and I agree she means it when she says keeping you safe is a priority, but I can’t forget what nearly happened, John.  What if your line had snapped?  The airlock blew?  Different cause, same result.  If EOS can help me get here faster, alert me sooner, if something happens, then dammit I’m going to take every extra second she can give.”

Scott looked tired, worn, and John abruptly remembered the whole reason he was grounded and on Thunderbird Five in the first place – the stress of command, of responsibility.  He’d mistaken that for just being all the back to back missions, three younger brothers in the thick of it and more and more people calling for their help as their reputation continued to grow.  The idea that John himself, up in Thunderbird Five and only Brains’ genius between him and certain death, had also been one of those weights had slipped his mind at some point.  Thunderbird Five was his home now, and while he knew the dangers of living in space, he’d become desensitised to the risks.

Apparently, Scott hadn’t.

“Okay,” he agreed, leaning so that they were shoulder to shoulder again.  “I won’t stop EOS from reporting to you.”  The smile that spread across Scott’s face was one of relief.  “But it won’t be every tiny, insignificant fluctuation.  Leave it to when there’s actually a danger, not when I’m panicking because you stopped answering your comms.  Again.”

Scott at least had the grace to look slightly sheepish at that.

“We’ll come up with the parameters together,” he agreed, though.  “You, me and EOS.  You can’t say I’m overreacting then.”

John grinned.  “You can’t help being such a smother hen,” he teased.  Scott swatted at him, but there was a grin on his face, too, and they fell into a companionable silence.

He’d just returned to his book when Scott broke it.

“John… I’m glad you’re not alone up here anymore.”  The grin was gone, replaced with heartfelt sincerity.

John glanced over at the door separating the sleeping segment from the next one, where EOS no doubt lurked. He was used to being alone.  Thunderbird Five wasn’t designed for cohabitation, Scott’s constant presence making her seem so much smaller.  Even EOS, despite not having a physical presence to crowd him, changed something about his ‘bird, and that was before Scott started training her up to be her own smother hen.  Life in space was never going to be the same again.  But…  “So am I.” John was fine with that.

[emybain]

Heroes In the End

me, posting unedited fanfics after reading supernova and Not Being Okay:  renegades fandom come get yall fics!

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA 

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

   Hot water ran down from the faucet above Nova’s head, sending tingles down her scalp as she stood inside the shower. Adrian’s shower. Another tingle ran down her spine. She raised her head up, letting the near-scalding water hit her face. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite describe, but it made her never want to get out. 

    In all her almost-seventeen years of living, Nova couldn’t remember a time when she had a shower, much less a hot one. There were the ones she had during her time in Cragmoor, but she preferred not to think of that place. In the apartment from her early years, she had vague memories of her mother bathing her in a tiny bathroom in lukewarm water. Sometimes, when there were clean water shortages, as there were often, Nova would sit in a dry bathtub as her mother used a sponge and a bucket full of soapy water to wash her. In the subway tunnels and even in the row house on Wallowridge, Nova had taken to a similar method, washing herself using a bucket of cold water and a sponge and cheap soap. 

    Now, she stared at the rack in the shower that held two different brands of tubes that were a shampoo and conditioner combination, a bar of soap that looked unused, and a tube of body wash. Upon inspecting the tubes, she noticed how they all smelled of Adrian, sending her heart skipping. 

    After what seemed like an eternity, Nova turned off the water and stepped out into Adrian’s bathroom, her bare toes stretching on the squishy mat beneath her feet. She reached for a clean towel that sat folded on a shelf above the toilet, wrapping it around her body and almost melting at its softness. Sweet rot, Adrian was spoiled. 

    Drying her hair with the edge of the towel, Nova’s eyes wandered around the fairly sized space, landing on a pile of clothes resting on the counter next to the door that were not there before. Her breath came short as panic rose in her throat. She must’ve forgotten to lock the door. What if Adrian had seen her? She was instantly mortified, but forced herself to calm down. Adrian wasn’t like that, and besides, how much did Nova really care? She was exhausted and sore and drained; the boy she may be in love with seeing her butt naked should’ve been the least of her worries. The clothes were placed carefully right beside the door, so she bet he had just reached a hand in and set them down for her. Embarrassment was quickly replaced with endearment. Nova had just planned on throwing her old clothing, her Nightmare uniform, back on and dealing with it, but this wonderful, amazing boy brought her clean clothing. 

    It was nothing special, just a pair of gray sweatpants that were way too long for Nova, even though she could tell they were old from the small holes here and there and the fact that they were too short for Adrian’s long legs, and a plain navy blue hoodie that had a faded logo. Getting dressed, she rolled the pant legs up until they rested comfortably at her ankle and pushed up the sleeves of the hoodie, ignoring the way that it was loose around her neck. It was quite possibly the most comfortable Nova had ever felt. The hoodie was softer than it looked, the fabric brushing Nova’s back and providing a cozy warmth. 

    It had been....a long night. After the events at the cathedral, Captain Chromium forced Adrian, his team, Max, and Nova straight to the nearest healers who were already attending to wounded Renegades. It seemed that there had been a hiccup in their work due to Max and the supernova that had occurred, but when Adrian and the others showed up, they were hard at work. Hugh and Simon refused to stay with them, along with the other surviving Council members, insisting that they had their own duties to attend to, people to speak with, and media to answer questions for. The destruction caused by her uncle had been reversed by Max, yes, but Gatlon was still shaken and hurting from his attack, and Nova had a feeling it would take a while for the city to fully recover from the trauma of one night. 

    The healers got to work on their misfit group, fixing cuts and bruises and tending to the more serious injuries, such as Adrian’s mutilations, Max’s sprained ankle, and the stings that peppered Nova’s arms. She had asked about a concussion, head throbbing, and was surprised when their testing results came back negative. It must’ve been the vitality charm’s work. There was no other explanation for how she was fine, well, about as fine as she could be, after being thrown twenty feet by Ace. 

    It had seemed like forever before they were allowed to leave, Max receiving a piggy back ride from Adrian, his ankle thickly wrapped in bandages and barefoot. Nova remembered noticing the lines of exhaustion on Adrian’s face, remembered how his muscles moved slowly from soreness, but he seemed elated to be able to carry his brother. 

    They were sent away by the Council, told that everything was under control and they needed to go home and rest. After a bit of complaining and arguing, they finally caved to the Council’s request. Danna, Oscar, and Ruby parted ways, only Oscar and Ruby bidding Nova goodbye. Nova had eyed them suspiciously as the three had walked away, noting that Oscar and Ruby were holding hands. 

    It was when she was left alone with Adrian and Max, who had already passed out and had his head lolled on Adrian’s shoulder, that Nova had realized she had nowhere to go. The house on Wallowridge was gone, the subway tunnels were out of the question. There was the pawn shop, but the thought produced a sour taste in Nova’s mouth. Adrian must’ve understood, for he nodded his head, saying there was plenty of room at his house. Nova, grateful and undeserving and too tired to even argue, had followed him. 

    It was now in the early, early morning, but Nova could tell from the noises outside that Gatlon was not asleep. Every half hour or so, sirens went off. Car doors could be heard slamming from the neighbors. 

    She felt ten pounds lighter as she stepped out of the bathroom and into Adrian’s dark room, welcoming the soft carpet on her feet. She was clean, truly clean, having let more than just dirt and dried blood go down the drain during her long and needed shower.

    A sweep of the room showed her that Adrian was not there, probably upstairs with Max who had insisted on sleeping on the second floor, curiosity overcoming his tired body at what was up there despite Adrian warning him that it was haunted. As if summoned by her thoughts, Adrian padded down the stairs, a glass in water in his hand. He stopped when he saw Nova, lips quirked up as he eyed her attire up and down. Compared to just hours before, Nova was probably the least intimidating thing he had seen. 

    He had showered too, evident by his clean face and fresh clothing. Nova cleared her throat, breaking eye contact to gesture to her clothes. 

    “Thank you for these.”

    “Of course.” Adrian shrugged. “I figured you didn’t have something else to sleep in.” He paused, and even in the dark, Nova could tell his cheeks reddened. “If you, uh, want to sleep, that is.” 

    They both fell silent. It was the first time that night that they had been alone together, truly alone. No one was about to come running in, threatening to kill one of them, no one was within earshot of their conversation or could see what they were going to do. 

    “How’s Max doing?” Nova asked, remembering how the kid had tiredly protested when Adrian had tried to give him Adrian’s bed, refusing to close his eyes until Adrian took him back upstairs. 

    Adrian chuckled. “Asleep, finally. He was determined to talk, so I figured I’d let him until he had nothing left to say. Hopefully, he won’t wake up for a while.” Nova hummed in agreement; she doubted he would, not after the events that had taken place. Adrian cleared his throat, shifting his weight onto one leg. “So...do you plan on sleeping?” 

    Nova thought about it, thought about her aching muscles and the weight on her eyelids and how curling up under a warm blanket for hours was so, so welcoming. “Yes, but only with you.” When his eyes widened in surprise, Nova quickly added, “if that’s okay.” 

    Before she knew it, he was right in front of her, burying a hand in her wet hair and leaning down to kiss her. It was short, lasting only a few seconds, but the sensation still sent chills crawling down Nova’s neck. When they separated, Nova surprised herself by wrapping her arms around his neck, reaching up on her tiptoes and pulling him down to her height. Her head buried itself in the crook of his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief when his arms went around her, the one staying buried in her hair and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. 

    He was here, in her arms and safe and still wanting her, despite everything she had done. Still trusting her, despite her mountain of lies. She supposed when he was right when he had said back in the cathedral that they had nothing else to lie about. Nova wasn’t even mad about the Sentinel, not anymore, at least. This was Adrian, the boy who had fixed her bracelet at the parade, something that seemed so long ago. The boy who never gave up on Nova, even when she had held a gun to his forehead. 

    They were each other’s nightmare, each other’s archenemy. At least, they were supposed to be. It was what they were wired and designed to be by their opposite upbringings, despite them having similar desires for the future of their world. 

    “What would you think if...if a villain happened to fall in love with your son?”

    “To be honest, I’m not sure there are such things as villains anymore. Maybe there never really were.” 

    For once, Nova agreed with Adrian’s father.

[miximax-hell]

Happy Goku Day, everyone!!

I checked and, miraculously, I still have followers on this blog. In fact, I’ve gained some since the last time I posted, for some reason! I’m not going to question it, though. Just... bless. But, hey, long time no see! As usual!

This time, I’m going back to my roots. The first drawings I posted on this blog were meant to show my love towards original Raimon, and it’s never a bad time to remind you all that I still adore these kids. Especially now that my friend @dust-monsters-under-my-bed​ has reminded me of them. Go check her art, btw! She’s not very active on Tumblr, but you can find her art on Twitter right here: https://twitter.com/rachelmonart

Anyway, she’s watching Inazuma Eleven for the first time and she’s made me think again about how much love these kids deserve, BECAUSE THEY SURE GOT NONE FROM HINO. DAMN YOU, HINO. So, today, let’s talk about the one and only IE character whose feet are classified as mass destruction weapons, who decided to borrow power from someone who will make you all question me, my logic and my tastes: Yamhan (or, as he is known in the west, Tiencha), THE FUSION OF YAMCHA AND TENSHINHAN FROM DRAGON BALL.

Introducing ShoYamHan! More on him under the cut.

So, first of all, how have you all been? I suppose many of you, like myself, are being told to stay at home to fight this situation. I salute all of you who do your best to stay safe and not help spread anything. It’s a very necessary fight, even if it can be boring at times. Many of us have friends or relatives fighting on the frontline, though (unless you yourself are the doctor or nurse friend!), and we hopefully know that staying at home is a small price to pay.

As for me, I got a job in December and lost it last month, so... yeah. It’s not been great. Still, something I’ve been working hard on for a while should be released soon and that’s so exciting! MY NAME WILL FINALLY BE ON SOMETHING’S CREDITS AND I CAN’T WAIT FOR IT TO BE UP.

But, anyway, back to business!

Rachel suggested I talk about the reasons behind this particular miximax, and considering it makes for a perfect parallel with my first posts, where I talked about the reasons behind Max’s and Kageno’s miximaxes, I’m all up for it! But, this time, I will have to do something new: explain WHO THE HECK YAMHAN IS. So let’s start with a picture of this handsome devil.

As most of you hopefully know, this project is about miximaxing Inazuma characters with video game characters. No anime, movies or anything else. Only and exclusively video games. Dragon Ball has probably spawned all those things, but it started as a manga, so you’d be right to think it most definitely does not qualify for this project. And, indeed, Dragon Ball doesn't. What DOES qualify, however, are Dragon Ball characters exclusive, or first introduced, in a video game. And that’s exactly the case we’re dealing with here!

Growing up, I loved Dragon Ball games. Even before I watched the show properly, in fact! I would go to my friend’s house, who was a fan of the show, and we'd play the Dragon Ball Budokai games nonstop with absolutely zero regrets. Those were some great times. And once I came to know the source material, the game that blew my mind the most was Dragon Ball Budokai 2. Was it the best one? Not necessarily. Is it my favourite? Not by a long shot. Still, it was the most creative! Most games follow the story of DBZ, which, obviously, is always the same. But Budokai 2 wasn’t afraid to do new things. Its story mode resembled a tabletop game and it was more than happy to deviate from the source material in some really fun ways; most notably, with exclusive fusions.

Budokai 2 introduced us all to Yamhan, the fusion of Yamcha and Tenshinhan, two long forgotten characters in the series, as they (and especially poor Yamcha) didn’t do anything especially relevant past... well, past the original Dragon Ball. As a champion of the unloved, that blew my mind. There were other fun things in Budokai 2, but what fascinated me and stayed in my thoughts for years to come was Yamhan. It was just such a cool concept. Two underdogs who had fallen into obscurity fusing to create a much greater warrior!

Of course, Yamhan isn’t the only videogame exclusive characters in Dragon Ball. He isn’t the first, nor the last. Yamhan isn’t the strongest, nor the weakest. But I haven’t played FighterZ nor Fusions (yet), nor pretty much any game that wasn’t on PS2 or GBA. And even if I had, I doubt Android 21 or any of the HUNDREDS of combinations available in Fusions would captivate me and my imagination as much as Yamhan did back in the day. Yamhan was a fusion, which is something that has always fascinated me to begin with. I MEAN, THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS ABOUT FUSING CHARACTERS, SO I THINK IT’S PRETTY OBVIOUS LMAO But he wasn’t just one among hundreds. He was this very specific, never-seen-before, cool as heck and usable fusion. Like, wow. That was wild for me. Sign me up, man.

But, you know, I try not to let that sway me too much. Of course, I wouldn’t likely pick a character I hate for a miximax, but, still, my preferences aren’t everything. And choosing Yamhan begs a question that I have already alluded to: if Yamhan isn’t the strongest game-exclusive DB character out there, then, why him? Well, the answer to that is related to the biggest problem posed by the sheer concept of miximaxing with a Dragon Ball character:

Power escalation.

It’s no exaggeration to say that Goku is, pretty much, the strongest character that has ever played the lead in any manga, and one of the strongest fictional characters ever, period. By the end of the Dragon Ball Super anime, he has EXCEEDED THE POWER OF MANY LITERAL GODS AND IS (or has been) A CANDIDATE TO BECOME ONE. You may prefer One Piece, or Naruto, or anything else, but few things reach the astronomical, reality-bending scope of Dragon Ball. Not to say DB is the best series--I’m just saying that it’s so out of control at this point (and I love it). But, of course, the stronger Goku is, the stronger the villains need to be, and Goku ends up becoming EVEN stronger than said villains. Rinse and repeat dozens of times until you can make an entire universe disappear by raising your hand.

Now, imagine applying that out-of-this-world power escalation to a context where the power balance isn’t so outrageous. For example, Inazuma Eleven.

Goku wriggling in his sleep is more powerful than Zeus, and an accidental sneeze would smash all of Ixal Fleet to smithereens. Do you see what this would do to the balance? It would ruin it completely, as anyone who miximaxed with Goku would be immediately a one-person army able to defeat ANY opponent--and if the opponent were to be EVEN GREATER than Goku, well, the rest simply wouldn’t stand a chance. Ever. Remember: the point of this project isn’t to create perfect and unbeatable players, and I’m not trying to prioritize anyone or make them noticeably stronger than anyone else just because I happen to like X more than Y. That completely ruins the tension and the fun (and my attempts to create justice in this unfair universe). The point is to come up with a balanced team full of players with strong points, but with flaws, too, that complement each other when they play together against stronger enemies.

So, if we go with Dragon Ball, and I love Dragon Ball WAY too much to not include it in this project in some way, we have to be careful and avoid overdoing it. Balance is key. And now that you know why I didn’t just choose the fusion between Beerus and Whis or something crazy like that, I’ll move on to explain what makes Yamhan a very interesting option. I SWEAR THERE ARE SOME ACTUAL REASONS.

First of all, the very concept. You know, Yamcha and Tenshinhan fused to created Yamhan, and now, Shourin is fusing with a fusion. That’s just... hecking cool. I won’t lie--my preferences towards Yamhan didn’t tip the scales towards making this happen, but my preferences towards FUSIONCEPTION totally did. XD But there’s more, thankfully.

From the very beginning, I knew I wanted a fighting game character to miximax with Shourin because it fits his theme best. I’m not big on fighting games, though, so it was quite tough. Especially because just any fighting game wouldn’t do it. Shourin is a martial artist. As I mentioned at the very beginning of this post, his feet are his weapons. His entire body is a weapon, really. If I were to suddenly miximax him with some character who wields a sword or an axe, for example, it would be a complete disservice to Shourin. Original Raimon members don’t have much going on for themselves, and I’m going to cut or ignore the ONE thing that makes one of them special? Not in a zillion years. Shourin needs to fight with his body. That, of course, cuts many characters already: pretty much the entire roster of Soul Calibur, many members of Mortal Kombat, many from games like Skullgirls (which I still want to try to represent here in the future, because @lumaga worked on it and it makes me happy just because of that), etc. For a very long time, I considered someone like Ryu, from Street Fighter, but then it hit me: I have never played Street Fighter and I don’t want to include him just because I know what a Hadouken is. It’d be... cheap. And fake. Thankfully, as I also mentioned earlier, I played LOTS of Budokai back in the day and I am an actual fan, so I don’t have to pretend to know what the heck I’m talking about. XD And, thankfully, most of the characters in DB games fight with their bare fists and legs, so they perfectly fit my needs. Yamhan is, of course, no exception.

Now comes my favourite reason to choose Yamhan and not, well, literally any other DB game-exclusive character. And that reason is style.

Remember that power escalation thing I mentioned earlier? Well, it’s epic, but it comes with a big disadvantage: power ends up becoming much more important than skill. Early Dragon Ball was very focused on fighting styles. There was an ongoing feud between the Turtle School and the Crane School, who taught different martial arts to fight in different ways, and there was a big plot involving which one was superior. It wasn’t just about who was strongest, but about who fought better. With time, that disappeared, though. Even though battles became flashier, aerial and more spectacular, they were much more indistinct. Sure, there were gimmicks like “heh, I have a tail and I will sometimes hit you with it,” or “I will try to hit your face with the palm of my hand instead of my fist for some unspecified reason,” but that isn’t... much. You just see very fast people avoiding equally as fast punches to the face. And Goku, the main character, only shows some style when he adopts a fighting pose BEFORE fighting. Once the punches start flying, it’s all a race to see who can hit the other the hardest in the gut to make them spit blood. Cool nonetheless, but still.

Ironically, though, it’s two of the least relevant characters who never really lost those styles that made them unique when they were first introduced to the series. And those are, of course, Yamcha and Tenshinhan.

Yamcha joins the Turtle School and learns techniques as classic as the Kamehameha, but he had his own style way before that, based on attacking and tearing enemies apart like a wolf would. This is best represented by his signature move, the Rougafuufuuken or Wolf Fang Fist. He never drops this style, but instead builds up on it through his training to make it even fiercer.

Tenshinhan has different things going for himself. First of all, he is a hybrid between a human being and a civilization known as the Three-Eyed People, which grants him powers such as growing extra arms from his back or dividing in 4. Not just moving so fast that it looks like there’s four of him, but ACTUALLY dividing into 4 separate bodies. In terms of skills, he was a Crane School student, but when he realised the wrong of his master’s doings, he decided to start training and developing on his own. Basically, a path that mirrors Yamcha’s, but both lead to unique fighting styles unlike anyone else’s in this universe. And, most importantly, none of them depend on appendixes that are always there, like the aforementioned tail, so they totally work for us here!

Shourin is a proper martial artist. He wouldn’t want to make himself crazy strong as much as he would like to refine his technique and learn new moves and tricks. Martial arts are about discipline, self-control, skill and protection. He would take a cool-ass combo based on a wolf’s moves over earth-shattering strength any day of the week, hence why the fact that these two have so many techniques to offer is so appealing.

Finally, and probably least, is the design idea that immediately came to my mind when I thought of a miximax between Shourin and Yamhan. Historically, I have had to work with characters like Fudou, who are usually mostly bald and they miximax with someone with hair, thus making for some very... difficult things to figure out. But the idea of miximaxing Shourin, who is mostly bald, with Yamhan, who is ALSO mostly bald, was just golden and too good to ignore. And the fact that Yamhan has three eyes GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO ADD A THIRD CROSS-SHAPED EYE ON SHOURIN’S FOREHEAD. IF A MIXIMAX BETWEEN BALD PEOPLE WAS GOLDEN, THIS IS OUTRIGHT PLATINUM.

Shourin would've probably looked a lot less like a joke if he had had hair covering his entire head or if I had at least given him proper eyes... but that would no longer be the Shourin I love. Not to mention that it’s very likely that Shourin willingly shaves his head to begin with (even if the ponytail ain’t doing him any favours--but that’s just Inazuma logic, so let’s not look too much into it), just like Tenshinhan or Krillin do, so he would probably be happier to keep that, uh, advantage. Relative advantage, but still.

As a side note, though, we can’t forget the balance. When Yamcha and Tenshinhan fuse, they undoubtedly become the strongest human being in the DB universe, overcoming the one who is usually strongest: Krillin. A fusion is always greater than its parts individually, and Yamcha and Tenshinhan aren’t so far away from Krillin to begin with, so that’s not even a question. Regardless, they still don’t have that overwhelming and surreal strength from other characters, so we still don’t get into absolutely OP territory. Yamhan is strong enough to provide Shourin with a power that can make a real difference without completely putting him above everyone else.

Sadly, Yamhan doesn’t really have a backstory, as he’s a game-exclusive character that, honestly, was probably only there for a laugh. That means there is no deep connection between them. We can, however, make obvious connections between Shourin, an aspiring martial artist whose dream, as stated in IE2, was to study at Manyuuji (Kogure’s school) for their focus on martial arts, and is now trying to become stronger to protect what he loves, and two skilled warriors who have been training nonstop under different masters and on their own for basically their entire lives to keep becoming stronger and more skilled in order to defend what’s precious to them and, simply, to be the best version of themselves they can be. Upon seeing such dedicated warriors and artists, Shourin would undoubtedly want to learn from them and, if necessary, borrow their strength too.

Or he might just fanboy and ask for their autographs, honestly. I sure as heck want Yamcha’s. And his baseball card.

[spaceskam]

Goodnight My Someone

for @youaremyworldlois who inspired me with tags about promise rings and who probably expected something soft when I asked to steal the idea. Hopefully I disappoint in a good way❤️️

Warning: major character death, grief, etc

ao3

Alex Manes had always assumed he’d only have to live through three major losses in his life: his innocence, his grandmother, and his leg. He never ever imagined a life where Michael would die before him.

Yet here he was.

It was damn near impossible to keep his breathing in check as he collapsed at Michael’s side. They had, for some reason, waited to call him until they’d gotten Max stabilized, so by the time Alex arrived, Michael was laid out on the ground, naked and lifeless and covered in a coat of silver.

“No, no, no,” Alex whispered, taking in the sight of him. His body was limp in ways that made him feel sick, his jaw hanging open and his stomach dipping inward from the lack of breathing. He figured they didn’t have much time before rigor began and that was even worse.

Michael was gone. Really, really gone.

“It’s okay, Alex,” Isobel said softly. Vomit threatened to make an appearance at how calm she sounded. In fact, they were all calm. Michael was dead because he was stupidly self-sacrificial and they were all so fucking okay with it.

“It’s okay?” Alex parroted, looking at her with a level of hate he didn’t realize he could have for someone that he had grown to really enjoy. But she was okay with Michael being dead and bare on the fucking desert floor and he wasn’t okay with that. “Are you all insane? He-he’s dead. You called me and you told me he was dead and you didn’t even sound like it was that concerning. He… Do you not even care? Why don’t you care? Why aren’t you crying?”

Tears were unabashedly spilling from his eyes as he looked around to the people who seemed to hold more pity for Alex than they did for the man he loved. He could’ve killed them all with his bare hands at that moment. Michael gave his life so they could have Max and they couldn’t even spare him a few tears.

“There’s no reason for‒”

“Like hell there isn’t! Look at him!” Alex yelled, his voice cracking as he dared to turn back to Michael’s body. “Look at him.”

“This is temporary,” Isobel said sharply. Alex huffed a laugh as he shook his head. How could she say Michael dying was temporary? This was anything but temporary. “As soon as Max is better, we’re going to bring him back.”

“Why? So Max can die again? Is that it?” Alex scoffed, shaking his head at them. He didn’t understand why they weren’t being so careless about this. Michael was a person. A living, breathing, loving person who could no longer live or breathe or love. When Liz was hurt, there was panic. When Isobel was hurt, there was panic. When Max was hurt, there was panic.

Where was Michael’s panic?

“I got you,” Alex whispered, reaching to close his mouth so he looked a little less lifelessly. If his mouth was closed, then he could pretend he was sleeping.

But they didn’t want that.

“Don’t touch him,” Liz jumped in, her voice far too harsh to be talking to him. Alex’s face screwed up in further anger as he let his hand hover over his chest, his jaw quivering almost violently. “I’m serious, Alex. We don’t have much silver, if you mess it up it’ll make it harder to get him into the pod.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t touch my boyfriend?” Alex spat.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” Maria shot back. When he turned to her, she looked to be the only one who was also a little upset about what was happening. Still, Alex glared at her. She didn’t get it. She didn’t have the rights to him, to his body. Michael was Alex’s, end of. They needed to stop making decisions for him when Alex was the only one who knew.

“He doesn’t want this,” Alex said, shaking his head as he went to close his mouth for real this time. Hands grabbed his shoulders before he could, pulling him away from Michael. “Let go of me! He doesn’t want this! He doesn’t want to be in that fucking pod!”

Alex was too weak with sobs to really fight back as Kyle and Liz pulled him away. They tugged him out of the cave completely, leaving him on the sand as he balled up and cried so hard it hurt. Liz went back into the cave, but Kyle crouched beside him.

“It’s going to be okay, Alex,” he said so sincerely that Alex wanted to strangle him. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay.

Michael was dead.

Things would never be okay.

-

”Alex. Alex, answer the door, please.”

Alex hesitated as his hand hovered over the doorknob, the sound of Michael’s voice on the other side of the wood. He hadn't been alone with him in months and he didn't know if he wanted to start now. He'd been nice, giving him space to be with Maria and not putting pressure on him. But it was midnight, the night before he would be bringing back Max, and he was at the door.

So Alex opened it.

"Can I come in?" Michael asked. His eyes were bloodshot and he was fidgeting badly, looking so broken. Alex didn't even consider saying no.

"You want anything to drink? Eat?" Alex offered, not knowing what else to do as they stood aimlessly in the middle of his living room. Michael sniffled, shaking his head.

"No, no, I just…" Michael looked around and something seemed to settle on his face when putting his attention back on Alex. “I want you.”

Alex took a startled step back. “What?”

“I need you,” Michael reiterated, his hands shaking and his eyes pooling. Alex didn’t know what to do, his hands hovering in between the two of them. He wanted so badly to comfort him and give into him as he’d wanted for the last few months, but he also knew that Michael had chosen Maria.

“You chose Maria,” Alex said allowed. Michael huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

“Alex, I… I need you. I’ll explain later, I just‒”

“No, explain now,” Alex urged softly even though he wished upon wishes that he could just accept whatever he was hearing at face value. But he couldn’t because that’s not who he was.

“Alex,” Michael said, his voice cracking as he looked at him with a level of desperation that had Alex’s heart slamming in his chest, “We’re bringing Max back tomorrow and I’m freaking out and I realized the only person I wanted is you which doesn’t surprise me because I always only want you.”

Alex shook his head before he even finished speaking. “No. You went to Maria. When everything went bad, you went to Maria.” Michael let out a high pitched whine, his hands slipping into his hair and he pulled on it until it was a massive mess. Alex’s hand clutched the chair beside him, hoping to ground himself if only a little bit as he waited.

“Listen, I have been spending months thinking about why I did what I did. And I know the surface level of it, I know that I did it because I wanted something simple and normal and comfortable. The-the problem was that I feel simple and comfortable with you. Not normal, never normal, you make me feel like I’ve been singled out in a crowd by the lead singer of a band who wants to pull me on stage or some shit. You-you notice me. You always notice me and I don’t know why,” Michael rambled, his breath getting quicker and quicker and Alex was sure his empathy was written all over his face, “But, see, m-my problem was that, yeah, I couldn’t separate you from my trauma and you knew that and it sucks but it’s what it was. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to even if I wanted you when I was hurting. But it goes deeper than that.

“I was talking to Mimi and, and she kept asking me why I was hiding. And I didn’t get it, I thought she was calling me out for being an alien or something. That wasn’t it. I-I am hiding. I’m hiding from my trauma, from you. But that’s the thing. I can’t hide from you. You’re always there, you always know. I can lie to everyone except for you. That doesn’t make you bad for me. That makes you the person I need more than anything. That makes you the most important thing in the world. You can’t and won’t put up with my lying, but I don’t have to explain because you know. You know, Alex. You know. You know. You know.”

Alex took a few steps towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hug. Michael slipped into it easily, wrapping his arms around him tightly and trying his best to steady his breath.

“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” Alex whispered, cradling him close. Michael breathed him in slowly.

“No,” Michael said before quickly backtracking, “No, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Alex hummed, slipping his fingers into his hair, “She’s not?”

“I am yours and you are mine, remember?”

Alex slowly started tugging the man towards the couch to lay down, his words making it easier.

“Can we go to bed, please?” Michael asked softly. Alex took a deep breath but nodded. This felt like a cruel trick. This all felt too easy. But Michael still touched him like it was real and, as they stripped down and crawled into bed together, he cuddled up to him like it was real.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Alex whispered, combing through Michael’s curls as they lay beneath the sheets. Michael’s cheeks were splotchy and his eyes had been closed since he got into bed. He relaxed a little more each time. Alex tried to stroke some calmness into him.

“Huh?”

“I know you, Michael,” Alex told him, dragging idle fingertips across every ridge of his body, “Somethings wrong. This isn’t normal nerves. I know how you act when you think you’re gonna fail. That’s not what this is.”

Michael slowly opened his eyes and stared at him. Alex almost forgot what was even going on. He was beautiful. He was always beautiful, but, at that moment, he was breathtaking. It felt all too similar to seeing him in the dim blue lights of their reunion. Only this wasn’t any special lighting, it was just Michael in his sweetest form.

“I just want you, Alex. Is it that hard to accept?” he whispered and Alex didn’t know how to say yes.

So he moved closer, pressing his nose next to Michael’s. He looked between his eyes and his lips before eventually closing the space between them. It had been so, so, so long since he got one of those heavenly kisses. Despite the fact there was clearly something wrong, Michael welcomed the kiss with an open mouth and a firm grip on his hips.

Alex wasn’t a fan of the term ‘make love’. It sounded gross and it was just much easier to use fuck or sex instead. Though, that night he sort of understood what making love actually was. It was connecting in a way that you felt in your bones, in your muscles, in your blood. It was overwhelming, all-encompassing. It was everything. Michael was everything.

“Do you still have it?” Michael whispered sometime after, completely nuzzled into Alex’s body like he was made to fit there. Alex breathed easy, running his hands through his hair as he held him close.

“Of course I do. We made a promise.”

“I broke it.”

“So did I, but we still made it.”

It was hard to remember a time when they’d been so stupidly in love to promise to be together forever. That was before the prospect that they could possibly go through anything more challenging than a homophobic father wielding a hammer. That was supposed to be the worst of it. How stupid they’d been.

“Do you ever memorize me?”

Alex hummed and while his body screamed ’yes, every inch’, he simply asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like… Whenever you would come home to me between deployments, I would make a point to memorize every part of your body,” Michael told him so honestly. It made Alex’s head spin and his stomach ache. Something was so wrong. Michael was always one to admit hard things, but this was on another level. This was specific. This was a warning. “I never want to forget. I got so good at it that I know where every single one of your scars are. I could read them like I read the stars.”

Alex squeezed him.

“Do you think we can make it, Alex? Do you think we can come back from everything and be happy together?” Michael asked into the night. Again, Alex didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t lie and say yes when he had no idea. They had to wait.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, when Michael’s tears wet Alex’s collarbone, that he asked again.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, “Tell me. I’ll fix it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I love you, Alex, I love you so much that it hurts,” Michael said, sniffling and wiping his eyes, “I’m scared of what’s gonna happen.”

“You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m just so tired. I just want it to end so I can be okay. I’m so tired of being scared. I just want to be okay,” Michael said weakly, his voice shaky and tired. Alex held him tighter, trying to will away the demons that he wouldn’t specify. “Can you promise that you’ll make sure that it ends?”

“I promise.”

-

“You’re a real sleeping beauty, Guerin.”

Alex rubbed his eyes hard, his chest aching as it had been for days. It was officially fourteen days without Michael Guerin and it hadn’t gotten any easier. He hated leaving the cave because the idea of Michael being alone, naked, and dead in a place he didn’t want to be made Alex sick. Though, it made him sicker to know that the people who were meant to care about him were going on with life while they waited for Max to be good enough to bring him back.

“I keep trying to wake up like this is a nightmare and I’m going to open my eyes and you’re going to be lying beside me,” Alex whispered, letting out a soft breath as another wave of tears hit him. He didn’t know how he had any left. “I-I keep trying to wake up, Michael, and I can’t seem to do it. Because this obviously is a nightmare. This isn’t real.”

He looked up and let the tears fall. He didn’t give a shit who might see. He just wanted Michael.

“We could’ve made it, you know? We could’ve fixed this. I love you so, so much, enough for us to make it,” Alex said, his voice cracking as he looked back at the beautiful, beautiful man in stasis. He looked at peace which made it easier to look at him. “I hate myself for not telling you that. I’ve spent so fucking long being scared to tell you how I feel and… and I keep thinking that if I was just honest, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You were asking me for a reason to live and I… Fuck, Michael, I didn’t give you one. I thought I had time.”

Alex moved closer to the pod, touching it as best he could. He wished so badly that he could reach inside and hold him again. He felt cheated and wronged that he didn’t get to touch him one last time. They’d rather him be cold and alone than held for a moment. He deserved to be fucking held. He died for them and they wouldn’t even let him be held.

“I still have it,” Alex whispered, pulling on the chain around his neck that had the handmade ring on it. He’d stopped wearing it whenever Michael had gotten with Maria, he saw no point to it. Now he saw every point to it. He had Michael’s ring on it as well now, the two burning against his chest as they begged to be put on the fingers they belonged on. “I promised you I did. I had to search for yours, though. It was under your pillow back at the airstream. Why’d you keep it there?”

Going to the airstream had been borderline traumatizing for Alex. It all looked like Michael had just been there, like he expected to come back. His bed wasn’t made, there was a box of macaroni in the cabinet, there were rolls of toilet paper left. It screamed Michael and it felt like it was meant to just be temporary. Temporary like Isobel had said.

Except, once Alex looked a little closer, it became clear that Michael had no intention for this to be temporary. The box of macaroni had expired two weeks before and it clearly had been there for awhile. There were no other perishables in the vicinity, like he had used it all up. He’d let his gas tank run out in the truck and all the gas cans were empty. His bunker was neatly organized in a way it never was, all of his research stacked and labeled. He’d given his resignation to Sanders. It was final. Everything felt final.

Alex had crawled into the bed of the airstream, desperate to seek any type of comfort that it might’ve given him. He wanted to get closer to Michael again, but it almost did more damage than it helped. He spent hours in there, crying and inhaling his scent that was on borrowed time. Soon it would stop smelling like him. It made it so much worse.

It felt like a battle every time he questioned if he should stay by the pod or not. Deep inside he knew Michael didn’t want to be in there. Michael had made sure he had everything squared away so no one would have to deal with it when he was gone. He didn’t want to be there. Staring at him like he was the experiment he’d tried so hard not to become felt cold and cynical. But, then again, leaving him alone felt worse. Michael didn’t want this, so why would Alex let him be alone in it?

“God, I’m so sorry. I should’ve stopped them. I don’t know how to help now,” Alex groaned, resting his forehead against the bright light of the pod. It hurt his eyes, but it made him feel closer to him. “I wish you would’ve just told me everything that was about to happen so I would’ve been prepared.”

He wanted nothing more than to go back and fix it. He needed to curl up with him, he needed to hold him. He needed to soak it all in again. He didn’t get enough. They promised each other a life and he didn’t get that. He got cheated out of that life. It wasn’t fair.

“I know you don’t want to come back,” Alex sniffled, his voice weaker and weaker by the minute, “But could you for just a minute? Could you let me hold you again and let me make sure you know that you’re loved? I’m so scared that you left without knowing. Did you know? Were you sure that I love you? I love you so much that it hurts.”

Michael didn’t budge, didn’t blink, didn’t move. Nothing happened. It wasn’t going to happen. No matter how much it hurt, Alex was going to make sure that he got what he wanted. If he could do anything, he could do that.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you. I promise.”

-

“You’re really going, huh?”

Alex looked towards the ground as he fingered the wood in his pocket, trying hard to ignore the sniffling coming from the other boy. He didn’t want to make Michael cry. They’d barely been in a relationship for two months and they’d already had way more crying and pain than normal two-month relationships.

“I don’t have a choice,” Alex said, “My dad made me sign. If I don’t go, I could get arrested.”

“I know,” Michael laughed, “I did my research. I hope you have fun in San Antonio.” That was enough to make Alex cross the space between them, grabbing his soft cheeks in his hands.

“Hey, I’ve got you. It’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, I promise,” Alex gushed, relaxing a little more whenever Michael’s hands draped around his hips and tugged him close.

“How can you be so sure?” he wondered. Alex moved in closer until Michael’s back hit the side of the truck. It earned the faintest of smiles on the boy’s face regardless of how sad he looked.

“Because you give me a reason to come home,” Alex whispered and Michael smiled a little more. Alex pressed soft, repetitive kisses to his lips and cheeks until the small smile broke into something brighter.

“You think I’m important enough to come home to?” Michael asked. Alex slipped his hands into his curls, breathing him in slowly. God, he was perfect. He was so, so perfect. Maybe it was too soon, but Alex loved him.

“You are the only thing I need,” he promised, “I am yours and you are mine.” Michael moved in for the kiss this time. It was slow, rocking back and forth as they tried to keep their balance despite the need to get closer and closer and closer.

Michael’s bandaged hand slipped beneath Alex’s shirt, pressing into the small of his back. Alex was the one to move into the bed of the truck. Soft kisses got deeper, gentle touches got needier. The stars were shining brighter than ever and they seemed to align in just the proper way that Alex needed them to. They always did whenever he was alone with Michael.

“Hey,” Alex whispered as he pulled away, nude bodies pressed together without shame, “I got you something.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I can.”

Alex kept one hand on Michael as the other one went to find the ring in the pocket of his jeans. It wasn’t anything special or fancy, he didn’t even have a box, but it reminded him of Michael. It was a thin wooden band with intricate writing in a language that he had gotten years prior at a Renaissance Festival that Maria and Mimi had dragged him to. He had been drawn to it, regardless of the fact it had been too big for him to wear at the time. The lady at the booth had told him the language was lost to the stars. It seemed right for it to go safely to Michael.

“Think of it like this,” Alex started as he watched Michael stare at it with curious eyes, carefully pushing it onto the other boy’s finger, “This is a promise I’ll come home to you. As long as you have it, then you know I’m with you.”

“A promise we’ll be together forever?”

“As long as you’ll let me have you.”

“I don’t have one to give you.”

“I don’t need one.”

“You’re getting one.”

Alex smiled and moved in closer for another kiss, feeling the ring press into the back of his neck as Michael’s hand moved there. He kissed his promises into his skin, promises of a future and a tomorrow and a forever of this, of them.

Michael approached him two days later with a ring made of metal, markings just as intricate that he’d made with things he found in the scrapyard. He’d pressed it into Alex’s skin with the same promises his kisses made and it made it a million times harder and a million times easier to board a plane and leave him.

-

“Alex, what are you doing?”

Alex ignored the voices as he knelt beside the lifeless body of the man he loved. They’d all done him wrong, he just wanted to give him what he wanted just once. He had melted enough silver to cover his hands, to pull him out of the pod.

“I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” Alex promised, finally, finally, cradling Michael’s cheek in his hands again. His body was horrifically cold, but that was okay. It had to be okay.

Footsteps sounded.

“I swear to God, if you come any closer to me, I will kill you,” Alex threatened, sheer honesty in his voice that was enough to make whoever it was stop in their tracks. He focused more on Michael, leaning down to kiss his cheek because he deserved it. Alex didn’t know exactly what he felt about the afterlife. He had no idea if Michael’s soul was just floating around, waiting to be thrown into a new body, or if he was somewhere else entirely, or if he was just gone, but he wanted to make sure that if he was watching, he saw himself get one last kiss.

Alex wrapped him up tightly in the blanket he’d laid out, swaddling him like a baby. Michael liked to be wrapped up, to be held and warm and caressed. He would appreciate this. He would.

“Alex, what are you doing with him? We need to put him back in the pod!” Isobel snapped and now she sounded emotional. Now she sounded like she cared. It had been weeks without a care, but now that Alex was doing what he wanted, now she cared?

“He doesn’t want that,” Alex said simply. He didn’t want to argue, not right now. He just wanted to bury Michael so that they could stop this bullshit and move on.

“You don’t know what he wants, Alex!” Maria yelled. She was crying. He could hear it in her voice.

“I know more than you do about it. He told me he just wants it to be over. He told me,” Alex said, unable to take his eyes off Michael’s features. They seemed so soft and boyish in the dim light, like he was looking at the 17-year-old he’d fallen in love with. It felt like a joke.

“Alex,” Kyle said softly, “Come on, let’s not do this. Let’s put him back and talk.” Alex was getting more and more angry by the minute. Why were they all here? They hadn’t come to visit him, why were they here now?

“I’m going to bring him back, Alex,” Max started this time, his voice gruff and unwavering, “I just need to wait until the next storm.”

“Why?” Alex snapped, finally looking at them. They all looked on different levels of horrified except for Kyle and Max, the two with the training to not be horrified. “Why are you going to bring him back? So you can die again? So you can die and he’ll feel like he died for no reason? So he can be miserable and regretful and depressed? Why do you want that for him?”

“I’m not going‒”

“You are though! That’s what this is! You’re trying to create this never-ending cycle of death that he doesn’t want to be apart of! He just wanted it to end, he just wants to be at peace!” Alex yelled, tears coming without much of a warning, “Why can’t you let him be at peace?”

“You’re being selfish, Alex!” Liz said strongly and Alex could feel his body shaking with anger, “You can’t keep him dead just because you think you know what he wants!”

“Oh my god, you are all so fucking entitled,” Alex groaned, turning his attention back to Michael. He grabbed his hand, holding it tightly and tried not to let it hurt so much that he didn’t hold back. “None of you even bothered to notice him. He knew he was going to die. He made sure everything was going to be okay when he did because he wanted it to be the end. He-he came to me and asked me to promise. And I promised.”

“What, Alex?” Maria asked, “What did you promise?”

“That it’d be over.”

Alex brought his hand to his lips, kissing his fingers and his palm and was pleased to feel it heat up a little bit due to his breath. It helped him relax.

“Alex, please,” Isobel said, softer now. Less angry. More desperate. “He’s my brother. Please don’t force this to be it.”

“Why do you care?” Alex asked, laughing dryly as he pressed Michael’s hand into his cheek. “Why do any of you care? He’s been dead for weeks and none of you gave a shit. You all went on like it was fine, like… like he didn’t matter. He matters. He fucking matters.”

“We did care, Alex!” Isobel said, her voice thick with tears, “We just were going to bring him back! Why won’t you let us bring him back?!”

“I just don’t understand,” Alex whispered, tucking the blanket around Michael a little tighter, “When Isobel was sick and in the pod, you were all frantic. When Max was dead and in the pod, you were all so desperate to figure it out. I don’t understand why he didn’t get that. He spent so much of his life feeling like he wasn’t as important and all you did was prove him right. He sacrificed himself so you could all have Max and you can’t even respect that. You can’t even respect him.”

“Oh my god, we only didn’t stress as much because we knew Max could bring him back! What don’t you get about that?!” Isobel screamed. Alex shook his head, taking a deep breath. He felt guilty when he did that. He wondered if Michael missed the sensation, wherever he was now.

“He just wanted you to have Max back,” Alex said, shaking his head, “He just wanted it to be over.”

“Alex,” Max pleaded, “Just let us bring him back.”

“What the fuck aren’t you understanding? He doesn't want that! He didn’t want to be in that damn pod! You’re so fucking hell-bent on dying like a martyr that you can’t comprehend the idea that someone else might be okay giving his life.” Alex shook his head, taking a deep breath as he touched Michael’s cheek again. “He felt like he was so much less important than you guys. He really did.” Alex closed his eyes. “God, I love him so much. He didn’t even know.”

“I don’t believe you,” Maria said strongly, “I don’t believe he told you that. He-he was happy. We were happy.”

“Happiness has nothing to do with it,” Alex whispered, “He just wanted it to be over. He thought it’d be easier to just let himself leave so you guys could be okay. He wanted everyone to be okay.”

Michael had just seemed to miss the part where Alex still needed him.

“He’s my boyfriend, Alex! I know him!”

Alex cracked a smile and let out a soft laugh. That sounds about right. He didn’t fault Michael for lying to him. He figured he would lie too if he knew he was going to die and didn’t want to leave people being angry at him. He just wanted a few hours with the person he loved most without all the bullshit. Alex understood that so well.

“Maybe,” Alex said, “But he’s mine.”

No one said anything for a minute and Alex wished they would leave him alone. He wanted to lay beside him for a moment before he put him in the backseat of the truck and buried him outside the cabin. That felt like a good place for him. Then they could visit him and he could make sure no one dug him up.

“So, what, we’re just going to let Alex take him away?” Isobel asked, crying and stumbling over her breaths, “We’re just going to believe him?”

“I… I think he’s right, Iz,” Kyle said softly and she scoffed, “Look, Michael made sure everything was in order before he did this and he made it clear that he had to be the one to bring Max back, not you. I think that was the plan from the beginning.”

“So, what? He just didn’t want to say goodbye?” Liz asked. There was silence and Alex decided he didn’t care what they thought about him cuddling up to Michael anymore. He had the opportunity to say goodbye to everyone and the only person he reached out to was Alex. He wanted Alex.

“Fuck, Alex, stop,” Maria nearly whined, but he ignored her as he cuddled up to the lifeless love of his life.

He breathed slowly and closed his eyes, blocking out the idea that anyone might be there. It was just him and Michael. No one else mattered.

After a moment of just lying there, Alex seemed to remember the rings around his neck. It seemed right for Michael to be buried with his. He managed to get the ring off the chain without moving far from Michael’s body. He slipped the ring onto his left ring finger, watching it fit like a glove on the finger it had never been able to fit on before. It made Alex smile. Maybe something had come out of Max’s thoughtless healing. He could finally wear his ring where it was meant to be worn.

“I am yours and you are mine,” he whispered softly, kissing the ring on his finger before looking at his face. Even dead, Michael was beautiful. He was thoughtless, effortlessly, horrifically beautiful. Alex touched his head again, bringing him closer. Their foreheads pressed together, their noses too, and Alex wondered how he managed to even smell like himself still. It was a gift.

Slowly, Alex put his lips on Michael’s. It was stupid and it was reckless, but he needed it. He needed that one last kiss. Every single goddamn time he kissed Michael Guerin, he was never allowed to know when it would be the last one for awhile.

This time he could be sure.

He could hear Maria crying when he did it, he could hear Kyle telling him to stop, he could hear everything, but he chose not to. He chose not to focus on anything that wasn’t Michael. Michael’s cold lips that got warmer the longer he held the kiss, Michael’s soft hair that curled around his fingers so that he wouldn’t let go, Michael’s everything.

Because this was it.

Because he would be in the ground.

Because this was their last goodbye.

“Goodnight, Michael,” Alex whispered into his mouth, “I love you.”

And that was it.

And that was it.

And that was it.

And that was‒

“Alex?”

[beautifulletdownfics]

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #28

London was beautiful at 3am.

Rodger sat in the passenger seat flicking through the emails he missed during the day. BBC Radio 3 played softly as I navigated through the streets back to his house.

"Who'd have thought you'd be a Radio 3 fan," Rodger said distractedly.

"It's calming," I defended.

Rodger was quick to come back, "It's Nina is what it is."

"You're supposed to say how adorable it is that she's got me listening to Mozart in the car."

"Oh," He locked his phone and put a hand on my shoulder as I drove, "It's extremely fucking adorable. Didn't I say she'd be good for you? Look how cultured you seem now."

I laughed but shrugged off his hand, “Shut up, I’ve always been cultured.”

“This is Bach,” He deadpanned, “Not Mozart.”

“Oh, piss off.”

As I turned into their street, Rodger dug through his backpack for his keys and started rattling off scores from a football game while I found a park. By the time we were talking up the front steps to their house, I was well and genuinely freezing my arse off and ready to be with Nina.

I wasn't planning on spending the night here, but it was a few days since I had seen her and I knew Nina's rehearsals were taking a toll, but I wasn't able to get more detail than that. I had two days off, and once the idea to be in her bed tonight formed in my head, it took hold.

Rodger let us in and turned on the hall light, "Cuppa?" He asked.

"No," I shook my head, "Thanks, I'm just gonna go up."

"Righto, see you in the morning."

I ducked into the bathroom on my way up to Nina's room, using some of the toiletries I knew were hers to wash my face. I stripped down to my pants, so there was less chance of waking her up with undressing and then stumbled out and up to her door.

It creaked open loudly, but I held the handle so I could slip it in quietly as I closed the door again. I put my clothes in a pile on the floor at the bottom of the bed and smiled as I then tried to figure out where on earth I was meant to fit in the bed when Nina was comfortably asleep right in the middle.

"Harry?"

I paused and winced where I had barely pulled back the duvet to slip my leg in, “I’m pleased I was your first guess,” I chuckled lowly.

She rolled over onto her side and shuffled back, making room for me. I settled next to her and pushed her hair off her sleepy face.

"I wasn't expecting you," Nina said, quietly letting out a weary sigh, "How was your day?"

"It's 3am," I pressed a kiss to her forehead and shuffled closer to her, "Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping, not really."

I pulled back to look at her in the dark, only her eyes shone from the light outside, "How're rehearsals going?" "Fine," She yawned, sounding more awake. My eyes momentarily flicked to the necklace she was wearing, it was the one I gave her for Christmas. I pressed my index finger to it briefly.

"Still drama?" I asked, trying not to give her a pass to evade the answer. Nina had a tendency to underplay her own work at the moment, and the idea bothered me.

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it," I prompted.

Nina rolled over onto her back beside me, "You want to hear?"

"Yes," I told her earnestly.

She had been quite evasive about it over the phone for the last two days, but I could hear something was wearing her down. Since recording the song together last week, I felt like Nina had shied away somewhat. Rodger told me after the fact about a pep talk, he needed to give her before working on the song together. I had been scolding myself ever since for being insensitive to what walking into that recording studio would have been like. I just didn't think.

"Orchestras are like ..." While she collected her thoughts, I wound my arm across her tummy, "Where else would you have eighty to a hundred and twenty people all working together with the precision of a tenth of a second? It's high stress and high stakes, and everyone has skin in the game."

"Yesterday you said something about egos ..."

"Egos like you wouldn't believe," She confirmed, speaking quietly to the ceiling, "It's all about your chair. Your chair is your status in the orchestra and beyond. Some people sit in their chairs for decades, and it's always a pissing contest."

“Right.”

“A chair in the strings has come up this week, and somebody in the orchestra stepped into the position. Which seems simple enough, but now they’re trying to dictate who gets their old chair. It’s also final program week where section leads are figuring out if the soloists are right. It feels like everyone’s breathing down each other’s necks and I already know I’m a featured soloist again.”

I interrupt her, “You’re featured again? Isn’t that incredible news? Nina! Congratulations.”

“It’s not public knowledge yet,” she doesn’t accept my praise, “Ryan says I’ve got nothing to worry about, but I don’t want to step on any toes.”

“I’m sure nobody’s—

—I’m new, young and female,” Nina says over me, “Someone will have an issue, even if they only say it under their breath. Orchestras are superstitious as all hell. I don’t want any bad voodoo pointed my way.”

I wound my arm entirely around her and pulled her closer, “Hey,” I pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth, “You’re a treasure, hear me? You can’t change what people think of you, much less alter anything by worrying yourself sick about it. I don’t know anything about orchestras, but I know how corporations run … The people whose job it is to do so will make their decisions, you just worry about how you treat the people around you. None of them has a legitimate reason to dislike you, Nina. The whole orchestra benefits from the best talent being displayed.”

“I know.”

I squeezed my arms tighter around her, “And you know what you’ve got this time you didn’t a few months ago?”

“What.”

“You ... ” I kissed her again, “... Have a boyfriend who adores you who you should definitely offload on more frequently. Tell me this stuff, Neens. I can’t help, but I can listen and distract and encourage.”

She pressed her forehead against my bare chest and took in a deep breath, "Can't we run away back to New York?"

"Any time you want."

She sighed, we both knew that wasn't entirely realistic. Still, I liked that Nina wanted to run away with me, "I just want—hang on," She interrupted herself, "It's the beginning of birthday week!"

"Hmm," I hummed, thinking about the date and how many days were left until my birthday, "I suppose it is."

"Harry!" Nina was out from my arms and pushing me onto my back in a heartbeat, her palms pressing to my shoulders to hold me down, she slipped her leg over my hips and hoisted herself over to straddle me, "Happy birthday week!" She peppered my face with kisses, "Happy happy birthday."

I laughed under her, holding her waist and starting to squirm away from her grabby hands, "Ouch. Careful. Oh," she planted a long kiss on my lips and then held her head up to watch me, "Thank you. That was ... Joyful."

"I"m thrilled you exist," she whispered. "This week is gonna be fun.”

“It is,” I agreed quickly, trailing my fingers up her sides and hooking my thumbs around the straps of her sleep singlet, “May I?”

Nina took my mouth in a languid kiss, her hair fanning out around my face, “Please,” she breathed.

+++

Standing in their kitchen later that morning, Nina was frowning deeply at the saucepan on the hob.

"What did it say to you?" I sided up to her and laced my arm around her middle.

Nina bit her lip, not catching my teasing tone, "They're not staying together properly."

"Spin the water before you drop the egg in," I instructed gently, looking at the mess of egg white from her most recent poaching attempt. "Did you add vinegar?"

Nina pulled back with a sceptical look on her face, "Sorry, you're an egg expert?"

"Eggspert," I corrected, "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed by I caught the twitch of a smile, "Your sister warned me about this."

That surprised me, "My sister?"

Nina raised her eyebrows at me and nudged my thigh with her hip, "Yep. We text now."

"Hang on," I took the wooden spoon off her when she held it out to me and watched her move over to the fridge, "What are you and my sister texting about?"

"She's got me onto Love Island," Nina said, pulling a few items out onto the bench and then starting making us both a coffee, "And she's been helping with some birthday things. You're hard to buy for, we're bonding over it."

"Birthday things, you say ..." I leant down and kissed Nina's cheek as she took back the egg poaching station and gave me a delicious mug of coffee.

"She told me a really delightful story about you as a six-year-old stuffing an Action Man limb up your nose."

"That's a lie!" I spluttered out too quickly.

"You can defend yourself at dinner tonight," Nina smiled brightly as she blew on the surface of her hot drink.

"God, Gem will be loving this," I all but rolled my eyes.

We were playing, but I was looking forward to bringing Nina along for Gemma and I's usual Monday night dinner. I also didn't mind at all that they were texting, I'd never had that happen before. My sister was always deliberately separate from the women I dated. Nina and my sister were fast becoming two peas in a pod, and I couldn't say I minded a bit.

"Do you want to eat here or on the sofa?"

Nina had two plates of eggs on toast served up waiting for my response, "Sofa," I said, picking them both up and following her through to the living room.

Once we were settled, we chatted through eating breakfast, establishing our plans for the rest of the day off we shared. I didn’t care what we did, I was just craving being with her. Which is why well over an hour later, without empty plates still sitting on the coffee table in front of us, I didn’t care that I was watching the telly while Nina scrolled on her phone. Both Rodger and Max had come and gone, and the house was quiet around us.

“I like this house,” I said aloud. “Almost as much as I like my own,” I watched Nina look around their living room blankly, clearly not seeing anything praiseworthy. I dug my toes in under her thigh from my spot at the opposite end of the sofa, “Not the house itself … I just like being here is all I mean.”

“Was gonna suggest you get your eyes tested,” Her hand rested on my calf comfortably, “It’s certainly not as pretty as your place.”

“There’s a lot of love and safety in this house,” I explained, my eyes are drawn to Nina’s phone when it pinged with multiple notifications at once, “What on earth is going on?”

Nina frowned at the screen and started rapidly typing back to a message, “The girls are all on. And I’m talking to Gemma too.”

I crawled over to her and rested my head on her shoulder, “What are you all gas bagging about?” Nina flipped the screen out of my view quickly, but I reached for her hand and brought it back because I recognised the website she was on, “Gucci?”

“Don’t,” She tried to reach the lock button, but my fingers were stopping hers from being able to.

“What are you buying from … Nina.”

“You like Gucci,” Nina spoke quietly, avoiding meeting my eyes, “Don’t ruin it.”

I locked the screen myself and sat up next to her, keeping a hold of her hand, “Nina, don’t spend that kind of money on me, particularly on a brand I work with. I don’t pay for any of their stuff, babe.”

“I want to get you something you’ll love.”

I love you, I wanted to say, alarmed at how easily the thought drifted into my head.

“I don’t need anything,” I took her chin in my hands and made her look at me, noticing the small white line of Nina's scar from her childhood bike accident, “But I’d love it if you got me some classical vinyls … Like of some symphonies you like. Please don’t spend anything ridiculous though.”

“I have a job, Harry. I want to buy you something nice. New York was—

—Okay,” I breathed out, hating the conversation that was coming. Usually, I avoided it. No, usually things didn’t get serious enough to need to have the money conversation. But Nina was sitting in front of me planning to spend more than she could probably afford on my birthday because she felt like she needed to repay me for my more extravagant Christmas gift. “Neens, you can’t think that way. You really can’t. I don’t have normal circumstances when it comes to money … When it comes to almost everything, actually. The point is,” I continued slowly, “I love that up until this point things have been pretty even, you pay for a lot, and it means so much to know that you’re not just sitting back relying on me. But Neens, for big stuff like holidays and extras I’ve got it covered.”

“That’s not fair, Harry.”

I shook my head, “Money isn’t about fair, Nina. Relationships suffer for it every day, and that’s usually about not having enough. It fills me with shame to think the people in my life would worry because I have an excess. I’ve worked hard for it and sacrificed a lot. And you’ll sacrifice a lot being with me … Money can’t be what ruins this. I won’t let it. I don’t want to be scared to spend money on you or on us because when I’m away for months at a time or when our dating becomes public things will be stressful and money is one thing we won’t need to worry about.”

Nina sat for a moment, looking uncomfortable and a little glum. I leaned in a kissed her, she gave me a weak smile after, “You really want vinyls?”

“Yes,” I promised her, understanding that maybe she needed time to sit with everything else I said, “I really do. I’m extremely behind in my classical collection. Actually, that reminds me, I’ve got something for you to listen to.”

She gave me a curious look, “What?”

“Where does Rodger keep his good headphones?”

“I think there’s a pair of his studio ones on the kitchen table …”

“I’ll be right back,” I jumped up off the sofa and rounded the living room, scooting back in a moment later figuring out how to pair them with my phone. “Okay,” I leaned over the back of the couch and slid the cups over Nina’s ears.

“What on earth …”

I slumped back next to her, hooking my arm through Nina’s and pulling up the file Rodger sent me the day before, “I’ve got our song for you to listen to.”

She frowned, “It’s not our song, Harry, it’s yours—

—It’s ours,” I corrected her, “And I love it. Ready to hear it? Rodger finished it yesterday afternoon.”

“Okay,” Nina’s voice shook as she adjusted the earphones on her ears, “You really like it?”

I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “Yes.”

I hit play before she could protest again, turning my head to the side so I could watch her as it played.

I could tell she was listening carefully throughout, her eyes focusing on different points in the room as I kept up with where int he track she was up to. Only the tiniest amount of residual noise leaked from the headphones, but I got exactly the reaction I was after about halfway through.

The intro to the bridge happened, and Nina’s eyes met mine, welling beautifully as she heard the incredible work Rodger had done since the rough cut she heard on the day. He’d added a choir of voices and the slightest echo effect onto the piano. The strings part Nina wrote we had recorded with a string quartet, and Rodger left in the sound of the piano keys falling back into place, just as Nina had suggested we do.

The song was incredible, and I was already obsessing over how to perform it live; over how to make that point in the setlist a real moment where we all shone up on stage.

“It’s so good, Harry,” Nina sniffed, dabbing under her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper.

“You’re happy with it?”

“Yes!” She cried out, “You idiot, it’s gorgeous! It’s sad but hopeful, and your voice is vulnerable, but the lyrics are sure and steadying … I adore it. The strings are great. Play it again for me.”

+++

Nina and Gemma were laughing so hard I was concerned cider was going to come out of someone's nose.

Ned looked across at me as though I might have an explanation for what was going on. I shrugged at him and took another bite of my sister's take on our grandmother's apple pie. There was no need to let dessert go cold.

"And then they—

—I know!" Gemma cried, nodding her head and wiping at tears in her eyes. "I know, oh my god. It's hilarious."

Nina beamed at my sister, her eyes shining with tears of her own, “I never actually would, but I’d go on the show just to be in those conversations after.”

“Me too!”

“Hold up,” I waved my hand across the table between them, “Are you still talking about Love Island? Because I can promise you, neither of you is ever going on that show.”

“Yes,” Nina squeezed my bicep, “But notice I started with ‘I never actually would’?”

My shoulders sunk, and I took another bite of pie, “Oh. Good.”

“So, what do you still need for Saturday, Harry?” Ned turned the conversation to my birthday party on the weekend, “I’ve got Friday off so I can come over and help set anything up … Or run out and pick things up. Whatever you need.”

“My girlfriends will also be around to help,” Nina added.

“I’ve got meetings,” Gemma said, “And I’m picking up Mum from the train after, but we can come over too.”

I look at them all, grateful to have everyone offering to help. I hadn’t been in the UK for a birthday in several years, and I was looking forward to it. It was going to be low key, I only sent out an invite email to a few dozen people a few days ago. I was planning on just having it at home, which kept things simple and meant I didn’t have to worry about the added element of paparazzi or other people being around.

“How about we go out for dinner on Friday night then?” I suggested, “I’ve hired caterers for Saturday so there’s really not a lot to do that can’t happen on Saturday during the day. Just have to clean the outdoor furniture a bit, although it’ll be cold. I’ll book somewhere for Friday, that’ll be a good start to the weekend.”

“You can’t take us out for dinner on your birthday weekend!” Gemma scoffed.

“Watch me,” I stared her down.

+++

Fresh orange and pink light beamed all around us as Nina, and I made our way hand in hand back along the streets from Hampstead Heath.

It was only just nearing seven am, but I was alive with the sense I’d been awake and could continue being awake, for days. It was a high I only really experience within the throngs of touring life, but starting the day watching the sunrise with Nina, standing with her back pressed tightly to my chest, gave the same sense of life. And I felt drunk on the feeling.

“Look at that picture, that’s a good one,” Nina held my phone up in front of us, tilting the screen when I squinted to see which one she was talking about. Walking lazily, side by side, was a strange kind of perfect.

“My forehead looks funny,” I commented, pulling her out of the path of a puddle when she started flipping through the rest of the photographs we’d just taken together.

“When did you take this?” Nina asked, eyes together as she assessed my personal favourite; Nina standing with her hands in her pockets, eyes closed with her face to the sky, sunrise lighting up the expanse behind and above her. As soon as I had taken it, I knew it would be one I’d keep. I had already made it my phone lock screen, and I planned on changing Nina’s contact picture to it as well.

It was Nina I always wanted to see; beautiful beyond belief, simple in that way that had me catching my breath.

“You were having a moment,” I explained, “I captured it perfectly.”

“I look ...” She trailed off.

“... Completely gorgeous,” I finished with certainty, snatching the phone away from her and shoving it in my pocket. “Now, pay attention to where you're walking please.”

We chatted about what it might be like to live like hermits for the rest of ours lives, and by the end of it Nina decided the life we’d described—early rises, countless books, snuggly nights, no television—sounded a lot like retirement. I smiled at the thought.

When we got back to the house, kicking off muddied boots and jackets damp with the moisture from the air, I flopped myself down on my favourite sofa as Nina said she’d be back after a quick trip to the bathroom.

“Harry,” She sat right next to my waist when she returned. “Are you ... Okay, you’re going back to sleep,” She answered herself, I opened one eye to look up at her. Nina was looking around the room like she was trying to figure out what she was going to do next. I mumbled a laugh and let the eyelid close slowly.

I stuck my arm out to incase her, keeping my eyes shut, “You fit too, c’mon.”

I managed to get her lying next to me for a moment. Still, just as I was adjusting myself against the back of the sofa and pulling her legs closer to mine with an expertly hooked foot, Nina surprised me by wriggling free and instead straddling my hips to sit up and look down at me.

"Why, hello," I opened my eyes and smiled up at her, wanting more than anything to be able to convey how fucking beautiful she looked.

"Hi," She grinned.

“Are you trying to say you don't want me to have a nap right now?”

“I mean, a nap can be on the list,” Nina said, pressing her lips to my neck and digging her hands underneath my shirt, “But maybe you’d like to do something else first.”

“Like what,” I insisted, letting her pull my shirt over my head but pulling her down for a heated kiss.  

Nina sat back on my hips and surprised me by pulling her own shirt straight over her head without any hesitation, “I think you’re clever enough to figure it out.”

+++

“Do you no think if I start doing a bunch of media people will get suspicious? I think I’d prefer not to,” I told the conference call, my concentration momentarily pulled to Nina and her girlfriends assembling a string of garden lights outside. “I really want this EP to drop without a whisper of it beforehand, I don’t want to lose the fun of that.”

“I agree with Harry,” I recognised my manager’s voice.

“Okay,” The rep from marketing relented, “No media until afterwards then.”

“I’ll do interviews until my mouth bleeds once it’s out, promise,” I told them cheekily, hearing a screech from outside and then a choir of laughter. “Is that everything?”

It was, and the call ended soon after. I plugged my phone in to charge on the kitchen bench and peeked out the window again. Nina hadn’t stopped smiling since her friends arrived earlier in the morning. They had been out with Gemma buying lights and decorations for the party tonight. I couldn’t say I gave them free rein, they simply took it.

Gemma was off collecting our mum, so when I walked through to the dining area, I started on sorting through a whole bunch of crap on the table to be put away before the party. The doors to the back garden were open, so I tuned into the conversation going on out there momentarily, with Sam’s reply catching my attention. I was only just out of their view but stayed quiet to see if I could catch the moment.

“Oh shut up, this is the best stage of the relationship, Nina. Just tell us how it is!”

“Quiet,” Nina insisted. “This is his house!”

Sam didn’t listen to her, “You of all people deserve to be having all the sex in the world right now. Are you?”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Leave her alone,” Isabel said. “She’s bright red. That’s confirmation in itself. Harry adores her, there’s no way that man isn’t good in bed.”

“I’m leaving,” Nina announced, appearing in the doorway a second later.

I spun around and met her eyes, she was bright red and looking flustered. Her mouth fell open when she saw me, and I bit my lip but smiled at her, knowing I had been caught. The girls called out for her and just when I opened my mouth she pointed right at me.

“Not a word from you,” She tried to look menacing, “Not a word.”

I held up both hands and laughed, “I wouldn’t dare … But for the record, I’d appreciate it if you defended my reputation instead of leaving room for doubt by being silent.”

“Harry,” She hissed, looking behind her to make sure her friends weren’t nearby.

“I mean, ‘all the sex in the world’ is a little hard to quantify, but we’re doing okay,” I grinned, watching her blush deepen almost as much as it had in the shower that morning.

Nina narrowed her eyes at me, “I’m going to put the kettle on for tea.”

“I’ll come help.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” She threw over her shoulder as she left the room.

I laughed loudly but followed after her regardless. She was embarrassed, and it was sweet. As I walked passed her in the kitchen, I gave her bum a light tap and told her she was beautiful. She told me to go away, but her voice was soft and affectionate—her heart not in it. When I returned to her side with a bunch of mugs and the tin of tea under my arm, I put everything down and looped my arm around her middle, depositing my hand in the back pocket of her jeans.

I gave her bottom a squeeze and pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear, guessing the question her girlfriends had asked her, “Tell me how the sex is, Nina.”

She smiled and was about to reply when we both jumped and turned around at the voices behind us.

“Urgh! See? They’re having so much sex,” Georgie cried out with Sam and Isobel close behind.

“Oh my god,” Sam wheezed, pointing at Nina, “Your face. Both of your faces. Gold.”

“You’re all uninvited to tomorrow night,” Nina shouted through a smile, “Tell them,” She nudged my side.

All four women were looking at me, and I was truly at a loss as to what to say, but I found myself laughing along with Nina’s friends, “Thank you very much for having this conversation while my sister isn’t here.”

They all laughed again, but Nina covered her face with her hands and turned back to the kettle. While Nina made the tea, the rest of us moved on to discussing where else they should decorate.

A plan was hatched to add some lights out in the front courtyard.

+++

“They’re never going to stop talking, are they?”

I felt Nina laugh against my chest and the sheets across my chest moved when she snuggled even closer, “No.” “You absolutely wish you were in with them, aren’t you?” I said into the darkness of my bedroom, “You have FOMO, just admit it.”

The sound of her friends chatting down the hall, despite the fact it was the middle of the night, was the only sound going through my house. We went out for dinner once my sister and mum arrived and now, a few bottles of wine at home later, Nina’s friends were very much enjoying themselves instead of sleeping.

“I thought we were all tired,” Nina mumbled through a yawn.

“They’re full of beans.”

She spoke sleepily, and it made me smile, “I love them.”

“Me too.”

I love you as well, I thought.

“Are you excited for your party tomorrow?” Nina asked quietly. My mind lingered on my previous thought.

“I am,” Her hair was damp against my shoulder, and one smooth leg of hers was spotted between mine, “Are you?”

“I’m a little nervous,” Nina admitted. “But it will be good.”

I kissed her cheek and wondered what the best method of reassuring her was, “Should we do sunrise again?”

Her head started nodding against my skin before she spoke, “Mhmm, let’s. You set the alarm, my eyes are already closed.”

“How you do know mine aren’t closed as well,” I chuckled.

“I can hear you blinking.”

“There’s absolutely no way that is true.”

“It is.” “It’s not.”

“You have lovely eyelashes, and I’m a prodigy, I can hear it when you blink.”

“Oh, now you’re a prodigy.”

“When it suits me, yes.”

[fatechica]

Could you possibly give us a sneak peak at the next chapter?

Y’all, I feel so bad. So many of you have asked for this and I’ve just been super busy. So, to make up for it, here’s the whole first scene of the next chapter (I’m a fair bit beyond where this is, in case you were wondering). Hopefully, I’ll have this chapter out soon, but I don’t want to make any promises other than I’m working on it every day for as long as I’m able to. 

So, until then, enjoy this snippet!

________

When things fall apart, it’s almost always because of something small, something that seems – in the moment – inconsequential. The straw that broke the camel’s back, one step too far – always a small thing, never a big one. 

And, in this case, a small thing in the form of a flyer for the Winter Formal coming up in a few weeks, the weekend after finals. 

It’s a simple, unassuming flyer: pale blue, a little smaller than a regular piece of paper, with delicate cursive writing announcing “A Magical Winter Ball” above a picture of a Disney-esque castle.

El’s in the girls’ locker room before gym class and she catches the sight of the flyer out of the corner of her eye on her way to her usual row of lockers to change for PE. She halts in place, almost frozen to the ground as her gaze scans over the announcement, greedy eyes taking in the date and time, mind already whirling with dresses and hair and makeup….

And, most importantly, who she really wants to go with. 

El is moments away from reaching out and snagging the flyer with fingers that are just about to start trembling when someone comes up next to her shoulder. And it’s only because she sees the movement out of the corner of her eye that she doesn’t startle when a hand reaches out and taps her on the shoulder.

It’s Jen who’s standing there when El turns to look, a bright if knowingly mischievous smile on her face. “You gonna go?” Jen asks, gesturing to the flyer on the bulletin board. “Maybe with a date this time?” The wink Jen gives her makes it clear who she’s talking about. 

El resists the urge to swallow heavily, the lie of omission heavy on her lips. Max is still only person she’s told about Mike other than her dad – El hasn’t even dared to think of telling anyone else, the guilt of telling someone behind Mike’s back sitting sour in her stomach, even though she desperately wants to let the whole world know, loud and proud, that she and Mike are dating. 

(ok, so it’s a lot more than just dating, especially recently, and el is so head-over-heels in love with mike she can barely think straight most of the time. god, she never wants this to end.)

So, El decides the easiest thing to do in the moment is just not even acknowledge Jen’s question. “When did they hand these out?” El asks instead, honestly curious how she missed it. It’s only the first Monday back from Christmas break – not a lot of opportunities for El to have missed this bit of news. 

“They made an announcement during lunch – it was, like, so pretty and cool, too bad you missed it. But I guess that’s what happens when you don’t eat lunch in the cafeteria, like you normally don’t these days.”

“Oh,” is all El can say. Because, yeah, she’s been having lunch away from the cafeteria more and more these days. And especially today, where eating lunch was just a tiny fraction of what she spent the lunch period doing. 

Naturally, this makes her thing of exactly how she spent most of the lunch period and it takes everything she has to keep her breathing stable as her face starts to heat up and her stomach goes all floaty and squirmy. Her body tingles with the memory of Mike’s touch, of the way he made her feel as they lost themselves in each other, spurred on by the excitement of doing it at school, need in every fiber of their being. 

God, El’s surprised she’s still at all coherent after that. 

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Jen says with a low giggle, rolling her eyes all the while. “If you decide to go, though, let me know, yeah? I think a bunch of us are going to go as a group.”

At that, El smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says.

Jen gives her another wink and trills her fingers at El in a bubbly wave before she turns to go get ready for gym. 

El turns to take one last look at the flyer before she goes to do the same, but stops at the flash of red hair that comes into view. Max is standing there, clearly having overheard El’s conversation with Jen, and the grin on her face with the way her eyebrows are arched give away her teasing intentions.

“Yeah, come to think of it, you and Wheeler were nowhere to be seen at lunch today,” Max says grin growing more and more shit-eating by the second. “So, spill it, what hidey hole did you two find to bang in? Might file it away for me and Lucas to use later, as long as it’s not too weird.”

El’s eyes widen and she panics at just how loud Max is speaking, even though her tone is no louder than normal (panic doesn’t like to listen to reason, after all). “Max!” El yells through a whisper, rushing forward to grab the other girl by the wrist and pull her aside so they can talk in low tones. “Don’t say it like that!”

This is clearly the wrong thing to say as it just makes Max even more inspired to troll her. “What, you don’t like ‘banging’?” She taps her lips with her finger, pretending to think. “Hmm, how about… fucking – no, wait, too crude. Having sex? Eh, too clinical.” A light goes on in Max’s eyes. “Oh, I know! Making love,” she says with a sing-song teasing rhythm. “That’s just the right kind of mushiness for you.”

El wishes she could control the flush that’s searing into her cheeks, and her inability to do so only makes her blush harder. “Max, please.”

“Hey, if you’re old enough to do it, you’re old enough to talk about it,” Max says as she crosses her arms loosely over her chest. 

El lets out a desperate sigh. “God, please, I’m begging.”

At that, Max’s nose crinkles in over-dramatic disgust. “God, ew, you do not have to quote your sex life with Mike to me.” El glares at Max hard enough that El’s almost surprised that Max doesn’t wither on the spot, but Max just laughs at her. “Ok, ok, I’m stopping, sorry. It’s just too much fun to tease you, Ellie.”

“Gee, thanks,” El says, voice dry and deadpan.

“You’re welcome, don’t worry about it, happy to be of service,” Max says as she and El start heading towards the lockers. “But, seriously, you never said where you and Mike disappeared off to so you could boink like rabbits.”

El feels like she’s reached a point of superior maturity because she gracefully and primly ignores Max’s crude jibe. “The A/V room, if you must know.”

Max lets out a low whistle, brows rising in amused shock. “Damn, right on school property? That’s bold.”

El shrugs. “Mike has a key and, well….” She can’t manage to keep the beginnings of a smile off her face and El doesn’t even try to fight it.

“Get it, girl,” Max says with her own sharp grin. “Just remind me to never walk past the A/V room during lunch.” 

Yeah, El’s completely lost the battle to control the smile on her face. “Oh, it’s not that bad. We’ve figured out how to be quiet.”

Max shudders. “Oh god, please don’t – I do not need to imagine you two doing it. Man, this must be what karmic payback feels like.”

“Serves you right,” El says with an arched eyebrow as she goes to her usual locker. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. No need to rub my face in it.” Max rolls her eyes and settles at the locker a couple over from El. “So, you two gonna go to that winter ball thing?”

“Dunno, maybe.” El shrugs her shoulders, trying to project a nonchalance she doesn’t exactly feel. Because the actual answer to Max’s question is hopefully, that she desperately wants to go despite only having known about the dance’s existence for less than 5 minutes. She wants to be swept up in the romance of an evening out, of going on a date to a dance with her boyfriend and not have to hide it away from their friends and classmates. 

Max snorts. “Yeah, that sounded convincing. You’re transparent, Hopper.”

El lets out a sigh and her shoulders slump. So much for nonchalant, she thinks as she opens a locker and starts dressings for PE. “You know how he is with school dances. Plus we still haven’t talked about telling other people yet.”

“Yeah, because you’re too busy going at it like rabbits,” Max says. “It’s like you two ghosted us over Christmas break. He that good in bed, huh? Never would have thought little Mikey Wheeler had it in him.”

El hates that she’s blushing, but she can’t even bring herself to deny any of Max’s words. Because everything she said is true. 

With the exception of a few days – namely Christmas and the days around it – Mike and El spent every day of Christmas break together, just the two of them, getting up to a whole lot of not good that involved exactly zero clothing, bouncing back and forth between each other’s houses, mostly lucking into having one house or the other empty at any one time. The hours melted into one another, all the time they spent together alone, and it had been just about the most magical experience of El’s life. 

Coming back to school had been a rude awakening and El resents a little (a lot) that she can’t just lay in bed with Mike all day, snuggling and talking and kissing and then more once those things are no longer enough to satisfy the need and passion that seem to live just a few heartbeats away. And the stolen half an hour she was able to spend with Mike during lunch was just not enough to fill this new void in her life.

When El doesn’t respond, Max seems to take that as her cue to continue speaking. “But, whatever – if you two want to spend all your time shacking up, that’s your choice. Just as long as you wrap it before you tap it, if you know what I’m saying.” The grin on Max’s face shows her sheer and utter delight at getting in as many sexual euphemisms as  possible and El unintentionally rewards Max’s effort by blushing fiercely.

“We’re safe,” El all but mutters under her breath. “But thanks for the concern.”

“Oh, I’m not concerned – I just don’t want a front row seat to the Hawkins version of ‘16 and Pregnant’, thank you very much,” Max says as she shuts her locker. “Don’t be white trash, Ellie dear, is all I’m asking.”

El rolls her eyes and shuts her own locker. “I’ll try.”

Max lets out a low chuckle. “Good, see that you do that.”

Together, the two make their way out to the gymnasium to wait for PE to start. And, the entire time, El can’t stop thinking about the Winter Ball and how she so very much wants to go with Mike.

But she just doesn’t know if he’d be willing to go with her.

[clericbyers]

okay but present day byler listening to chasing cars together and laying on wills bed and that’s where mike realizes he loves him

“I made a new playlist if you’re down to listen,” Will points out one day while he and Mike are lazing about outside on the porch. Mike’s kicking his Vans through the dirt before him and coughing out the dust that catches in his throat.

“Yeah, sure,” he wheezes out, “you always have the best song order in your lists than anyone else.”

Will laughs. “You only like my ordering because your favorite songs are almost always first.”

“You know me too well.” Mike grins up at his friend and feels his heart do that funny flip thing it’s been practicing recently. If recently could be at least the past five years or so, sure.

Mike kicks dirt again and climbs fully to his feet. “You know you’re lucky Lucas isn’t here and you’re wearing just Vans.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’d murder you for kicking your feet around with Air Maxs on, especially the 270 React.”

Mike sticks out his tongue playfully, which makes Will roll his eyes before motioning for Mike to follow him inside. It’s just them today; Joyce is out working, Hopper is at the station, Jonathan got hired to take photos all day for some Instagram influencer in Indianapolis, and Elle is out with her girlfriend Max in the city. Mike always feels a little nervous being alone with Will these days. It’s mostly anxiety in his head brought by silly daydreams of maybe holding his best friend’s hand as they sit on the porch, or of kissing him every time they see each other, small pecks and long hungry kisses that each encapsulate everything he’s wanted for a long time.

Mike often wonders if he’s projecting in some fashion, taking out all his gay feels and pressing them on Will since they’re the closest in the Party. It’s no secret where Mike’s interests lie (if the rainbow pin he wore everywhere didn’t broadcast it enough, the rainbow flag in his room was a big, well, flag. Plus, Mike almost always referred to himself as the secondary gay in town, only second to Will), but absolutely no one knows how he feels about Will. Mike’s not even sure either and that’s the worst part.

If he can get a handle on what exactly all his thoughts toward Will mean, if he’s sure he’s not taking out his celebrity crush on Jake Gyllenhaal on Will, then maybe something could be done.

Will plops down onto his bed and starts scrolling through his phone. Mike stands in the doorway for a second longer, watching Will’s fingers grip the sides of his phone before one hand reaches up to brush freshly cut bangs from his head. Mike’s heart catches on a beat and gets lost in the rhythm of Mike’s turbulent emotions.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?” Will asks with a small chuckle. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh good,” shoots back Mike as he makes his way to Will. “I thought you were a cannibal.”

Will leans over and nips lightly at Mike’s bare arm. His tongue dances across Mike’s skin for just a moment and Mike’s face turns vibrant pink. Will though makes a face and pulls away with a groan. “If I was a cannibal, I wouldn’t eat you.”

“Am I too stringy?”

Will shrugs. “If I ate you then I wouldn’t be able to hang with you every day. I can hold off the temptation for eternity as long as you’re still here.” Mike is going to combust. “Plus, you taste gross.”

“Haha.” The curly haired boy tightens the scrunchie holding his hair back in a loose ponytail—courtesy of Elle—before laying down beside Will. “C’mon, let’s listen to this playlist of yours.”

Will turns on his Bluetooth speaker and then starts up the music. He settles in next to Mike and they both stare into each other’s eyes until Will starts giggling and then closes his eyes as he hums along to the music. They both alternate between humming and singing along, butchering lyrics on purpose and Mike belting out whatever he can when Mr. Brightside and 19-2000 plays.

“Oh,” Will perks when an unfamiliar guitar riff starts playing. “This is the last song; I found it recently. I think you’ll like it.”

Mike opens his eyes and clears out his head enough to take a listen.

We’ll do it all; everything, on our own.

“The melody is nice,” he replies somewhat distractedly. The calmness of this opening has him a little by the throat, and he’s anticipating a rise in energy once the drums start but he still takes in the simplistic instrumentation this far in.

We don’t need; anything, or anyone.

Fair enough.

If I lay here, and Mike snorts to himself given he and Will are just laying around themselves, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Mike feels his throat clench at that. That hits a little too close to home. He chances a glance at Will, who has his eyes closed and oh, oh, there goes Mike’s heart again doing those dumb cartwheels in his chest because Will looks so content and happy being here with Mike.

I don’t quite know; how to say, how I feel.

Mike feels the bottom drop out his stomach. Fuck.

Those three words are said too much; they’re not enough.

Those three words…those three words. Oh. Yeah. Mike stares up at the ceiling and takes in a deep breath. Yeah, it’s—it’s not enough is it? Not really. Will knows Mike loves him, everyone knows Mike loves his friends but this…emotion that consumes Mike unwillingly when Will just glances at him? Those three words really aren’t enough after all.

If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Will fidgets and peaks open an eye before sending Mike a sleepy smile.

Forget what we’re told, before we get too old.

Mike thinks back to their younger years, when all the adults in town admonished him for being so close to Will, for daring to show interest in other boys outside of friendship. How they told him he couldn’t like boys, that it was wrong and evil even now in this century despite what big city life promoted. So he came out in 8th grade, wore rainbow pins and socks and anything he could, went with Nancy into the big city to buy a pride flag in 9th grade, went to prom with his (very short term) boyfriend in 10th grade, and promptly ignored everything he had been taught before about it being wrong to like who he liked.

He won’t grow old enough to be unable to escape the rhetoric. None of the Party will.

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.

Will opens his other eye and scoots in just a bit closer. Mike can feel the heat from his leg even though they aren’t touching at this distance. He thinks he might passing out if he can’t get his breath back.

Let’s waste time chasing cars around our heads.

Mike feels a little fuzzy now, almost punch drunk from Will’s closeness. He scoots in too, turns on his side to face Will a little better. Will turns as well and now they lie so close, knees knocking together and barely enough space between their faces. Will’s bed is far too small for two people, but right now it seems just about the perfect size.

I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

“Mike?” Will whispers, too gentle in the rising beat of the song.

Mike can’t stop thinking; he can’t shut off his brain, it’s only processing one thing and it’s putting a label to those stupid emotions that have been consuming him since they were kids. The emotion that he knows is more than friendship for the past five years. But now…

“I’m in love with you.”

If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Will is crying. No sobs, no messiness, just one of those uncontrollable smiles framed by sweet wetness dripping from his eyes. Mike leans forward to brush the tears from his best friend’s face, no, not just his best friend, someone he loves more than any words could detail.

Forget what we’re told, before we get too old.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

There’s something so liberating about saying it aloud, something so freeing about hearing something known since they first sat on the swings together and decided to become friends. Mike feels like his life is starting all over again now that he’s basking under the rays of Will’s returned affections.

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.

The garden, it’s his heart, tended to by the only boy he’s ever truly loved.

All that I am, all that I ever was, and Mike takes Will’s hands in his own as the other boy blushes slightly, is here in your perfect eyes.

Perfect green eyes that go soft at the edges and look blue under the right lighting, expressive big eyes that echo everything Mike’s ever felt like twin mirrors reflecting his soul.

They’re all I can see.

Mike can’t look away now, if ever. God, he’s so in love, huh. It took him this long to realize it.

I don’t know where. Confused about how as well.

How did Mike fall anyway? He doesn’t know. It wasn’t much of a fall anyway, more of a sink, a slow dip into deep rich waters lavishing the beaches of his mind. Gentle waves of reminders about how much different Mike feels toward Will, but never a label until now. Now, there’s only love crashing to shore and Mike accepts the waves with the ease of a Californian surfer.

Just know that these things will never change for us at all.

Nothing’s changed. Nothing has ever changed really.

“If I lay here,” Will whispers with the last verse of the song, singing just enough to keep the pitch but breathy with emotion he can’t contain. “If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Mike smiles and he knows it’s the dopey one, he can’t help himself, but Will is going pink and he’s so lovely. Mike’s sure Will knows his verbal answer so he shows it instead, closing the gap with a kiss that should have happen years ago. But things happen for a reason, and now, Mike decides as Will clamps his fists into Mike’s shirt and deepens the kiss until only the sound of their slow but needy kissing takes the room after the song ends, is the perfect time and reason for it all.

[carmenlire]

Ever After, After All

read on ao3

Alec lays awake, staring at the ceiling.

He should be the happiest person on the planet-- and he is. Turning his head, something in Alec eases at the sight of Magnus, moonlight bouncing off warm skin, making him look at once ethereal and deeply human.

His fiancé of a handful of hours is stunning, even with messy hair and chapped lips. A part of Alec-- the unforgivably sentimental part that he usually tries to tamp down-- thinks that Magnus is the most gorgeous man on earth, just like this.

Twisting his ring by sight alone, Alec feels the coolness of the gold band and he smiles a little. The happiness that curls around his heart is stymied, though, and he hates it. He hates that there’s room for anything else right now except blinding joy and all the love in the world.

Because there’s grief, too. There’s a weight in his chest that just grows more oppressive whenever he tries to push it away. It’s a dank cloud that covers everything, turning it into the worst sort of purgatory.

Lifting up onto an elbow, Alec leans over Magnus and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Love you,” he murmurs and Magnus stirs, turning onto his side, reaching out for Alec with a hand that doesn’t quite manage to find him. The move warms Alec, pushes the maelstrom away the tiniest bit. Still, he sighs and carefully climbs out of bed, grabbing his phone on his way out.

Using the moonlight, he leaves their bedroom and pads into the living room. He reaches for one of the squat glasses on Magnus’s drink cart and then the decanter along the edge. The low light sets the crystal gleaming and Alec sighs into the quiet darkness, pours a splash or two of brandy and takes a small, lingering sip.

It’s a warm summer night and so he makes his way to the french doors. Opening one door, a light breeze drifts over him and Alec takes a bracing breath as he steps onto the balcony. He sits down on the couch-- or really, he falls onto it.

He feels heavy and exhausted and he’s not quite sure how to fix things.

Shifting forward on the couch, Alec rests elbows on his knees. Head down, slowly rolling his glass between his hands, his shoulders droop.

Out here, like this, it’s easy to imagine that he’s the only person in the world. Like this, it’s hard to know the right answer to a question he’s been asking himself for years.

Frustrated, Alec throws back the rest of his drink. Swallowing hard, he sets the glass down on the ground as he pulls out his phone. The light from the screen glares up at him, makes him wince.

His eyes adjust quick enough though as he swipes to unlock the phone and he opens his contact list, scrolls down to a number he knows by heart.

His thumb hovers over the call button. He hesitates for what seems like ages but he just can’t do it. Forgetting that it’s the middle of the night, Alec doesn’t even know where he’d start that conversation.

Raking his free hand through his hair, Alec doesn’t know what to do. In an ideal world, sure. Unfortunately, this world isn’t perfect and he’s achingly aware of that fact.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Looking up, Alec smiles wanly at Magnus. “You could say that.”

His fiancé has haphazardly thrown a robe on, leaving it untied, and he doesn’t waste a moment walking over to Alec. Sitting down next to him, Magnus wraps an arm around his shoulders, hugs him a little closer before he kisses the side of his head.

Nosing along his cheek, Magnus’s voice is low as he says, “Talk to me, darling.”

Looking over at him, Alec shrugs a little before he looks back down. His hand falls to Magnus’s thigh, strokes an absent thumb over skin and silk.

“I just,” he starts, before breaking off with an exasperated breath. Tilting his head so that it’s resting on Magnus’s arm, Alec stares up at the sky, at the millions of stars twinkling down on them.

“I just,” he repeats softly, “Wish that I could tell my mom that I’m engaged, that I met a man and fell head over heels in love with him and that I know, without a doubt, that he’s the love of my life.”

Shifting over to look at Magnus’s face, Alec sees him already staring down at him, expression soft and full of dawning understanding.

“I wish I could tell her that the past five years have been the best five years of my life and that when he asked me to marry him tonight-- when I finally realized why he’d been stealing furtive looks in my direction for the past few weeks and why he’d seemed so nervous all damn day-- I started crying but it was okay because he wiped the tears away with a shit-eating grin as he held up a ring.”

Alec’s voice is hoarse as he continues, “I wish I could tell my mom that I’m happy and just how much I love you but I can’t. Not if I still want her in my life, not if I still want a relationship with her. There’s this whole part of my life that she knows nothing about and it feels wrong and weird but I can’t change things and I hate that for the rest of my life, she’ll never know this piece of me. I hate that I have to censor myself, that whenever I talk about you, it’s just as a friend. I hate that I’m thirty goddamn years old and afraid to tell my mother the truth.”

Closing his eyes to keep more tears at bay, Alec’s voice is barely above a whisper as he manages to finish, “I hate that I know just how conditional my mother’s love is and that I have to keep these secrets-- that I have to protect her whenever every lie, either outright or by omission, feels like fucking glass in my throat.”

“Oh Alexander,” Magnus whispers. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

With a wet laugh, Alec shakes his head, resigned. “You don’t need to be sorry, babe. I am so fucking happy to be your husband. I just wish I could share it with my mom.”

Magnus’s voice is tentative as he asks, “I know we’ve talked about this before but are you sure about Maryse’s reaction? I know she’s a stern woman but I’ve seen the way she looks at you and she loves you, Alec. She really does. You’ve said yourself that she’s so much better since she divorced Robert.”

“And she is,” Alec agrees before he frowns. “But that doesn’t change how conservative she is. Divorce notwithstanding, she’s very traditional. As much as it hurts, I know that she loves me-- but only to a certain point. We're from an old family and she's always kept those values, that outlook that scorns any hint of scandal. I couldn’t stand to see her face if I told her I was gay, that I was marrying a man. It would infuriate her and devastate us both.”

Alec closes his eyes on a deep sigh, twisting so that he can shove his face against Magnus’s neck. He hugs him tight, breathes a little easier at the heat radiating from Magnus, thankful for the millionth time that his boyfriend-- fiancé, he corrects with a smile-- runs warm.

Rubbing his back, Magnus kisses the shell of his ear before he says, “I support you no matter what you decide, Alexander. And while I’d love nothing more than to shout to the world that I love you and you’re my everything, I’m perfectly content being introduced to your mother as simply your best friend. We've done it for years, after all.”

Silence falls over the balcony as the two of them turn to their own thoughts. After awhile, Alec finds it in himself to laugh. “At least Jace, Max, and Izzy know. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to hide us from them, too.”

Making a little noise of amusement that Magnus would deny to his dying day is a snort of laughter, he pulls back to meet Alec’s eyes. “Yes, it’s a very good thing indeed that your siblings know about us-- just think how traumatizing it would’ve been when they walked in on us that time during vacation if they hadn’t.”

Alec shudders, a little dramatic just to see Magnus’s smile widen. “I never would’ve lived it down,” he replies gravely.

Alec relaxes into Magnus and they stay out on the balcony a little while longer until he shivers in the coolness. Magnus takes that as a hint and urges Alec to standing, guiding them back to their bedroom. Alec’s breath catches as their hands interlace, as he feels Magnus’s thumb run over his engagement ring.

As they fall into bed, Alec finally feels the weight slough off him. He knows it’s but a respite, that these feelings will plague him again, but he has Magnus and he can’t regret anything to do with the man he’d fallen for ages and ages ago.

Turning onto his side, Alec feels Magnus lay a bare kiss on between his shoulders, relaxes under the arm thrown over his waist.

He falls asleep, eager for morning to dawn bright and early, eager for the future he knows will be spent at Magnus's side.

--

Laughing, Alec opens the car door. Getting out of the backseat, he sees Magnus already standing on the sidewalk, shaking his head in bemusement.

“What,” he asks, grinning. “I’m right and you know it.”

Magnus pouts, actually pouts, and Alec’s helpless to do anything but pull him closer as soon as possible, immediately. He closes the door to the cab with barely a thought, all of his focus on the man in front of him.

Thankfully, the street isn’t busy and Alec’s able to wrap his arms around Magnus, hands resting low on his back as he guides his fiancé back, away from the curb. The doorman opens the door, expressionless, and Alec keeps walking him forward until they’ve entered the lobby of the hotel.

Magnus isn’t fazed at all. Trusting Alec to keep him from running into anything, he wraps his arms around Alec’s neck, sending him a half-assed glare.

“I know nothing of the sort, I assure you,” he says, playfully supercilious and infuriatingly attractive for it.

“C’mon,” Alec wheedles. “Chocolate peanut butter is a combination fit for kings. Our cake is going to be so delicious.”

Magnus voice is dry as he replies, “Alexander, you seem to forget that our cake is going to be three tiers. That’s three different flavors, none of which should be a glorified Reese’s cup. Peanut butter and chocolate is disgusting and I refuse to subject our guests to it.”

“Disgusting,” Alec squawks, indignant. “How can I be in love with someone who apparently has defunct taste buds? Why do you hate joy so much, babe?”

“We have two hours to decide on our wedding cake, darling. I’m sure we can come to an agreement in that time. For instance, mint chocolate chip is absolutely--”

“A no-go,” Alec says firmly.

Magnus nods, grimacing in distaste. “Definitely. Ugh. Now those are people are wrong. Imagine liking that combination, dear God.”

Biting back a laugh, Alec leans in and kisses Magnus before he can get too worked up. He’d once listened to a twenty five minute diatribe on just why mint chocolate ice cream was the devil’s flavor.

It’s early fall and the two of them have started planning things in earnest, having decided on a winter wedding. Neither one had seen the point in waiting any longer and with only those closest to them invited, they’d found a charming hotel in Brooklyn that had an elegantly cozy vibe that they both enjoyed and a weekend free in December.

Working with the hotel’s kitchen, they’d finalized the menu just last week and this afternoon their appointment was to work out their ideas for the wedding cake.

Wryly, Alec thinks about just how different their opinions were on sweets. The next two hours promised to be lively, if nothing else.

They walk to the maitre d and are escorted through the restaurant and back to the kitchen immediately. It’s an off time between lunch and dinner and there are only a few tables taken. Alec’s eyes scan over and see a mother and daughter in the corner having tea and a few elderly women near the front having drinks. There’s a large table on the far side of the room, chatting loudly but it’s full of people in suits and Alec doesn’t pay them any mind.

The afternoon’s productive and Alec gets his peanut butter chocolate layer. It’s the top of the cake, which means it’s the smallest, but Alec will take what he can get. The both agree on the other two tiers easily enough and most of their time is spent on how they want the cake to look instead of what’s in it.

They walk out of the restaurant in the late afternoon, Alec’s arm over Magnus’s shoulder, and come to a stop in the hotel lobby. Magnus comes around until he’s facing Alec, little grin on his face and Alec doesn’t even try to stop the urge to lean in and kiss him.

He’s so caught up on Magnus, on the euphoria of completing yet another step to their forever, that he doesn’t notice that the large group that had been dining in the restaurant are finished with their meal, that they’re standing and coming towards the hotel restaurant’s entrance across the lobby. Smiling into the kiss, Alec’s hands sweep up to the lapels of Magnus’s blazer, hauling him a little closer when he hears his fiancé let out a little hum of happiness.

He doesn’t notice the figure that comes to a screeching stop, her companions continuing on past them without taking note of the couple in the lobby.

“Alec?”

Wrenching away from Magnus, Alec breaks the kiss with a gasp. He looks over at the voice he’d know anywhere. Eyes wide, the flush that had bloomed in his cheeks just a few moments before leaves in a rush, leaving him pale and stricken.

His gaze is glued to his mother, standing in the middle of the hotel lobby, hands gripping each other so tightly that even from here he can see the marks her nails are scoring into tender skin.

“Mom,” he replies hoarsely. “What are you doing here?”

Back ramrod straight, she nods stiffly towards the group that are walking out of the hotel, into the fall sunshine outside, oblivious to the carnage behind them. “I had a business lunch with the firm this afternoon.”

Her eyes flit between him and Magnus. Alec catches the way her gaze lingers on the way one of his hands have come up to rest against the side of Magnus’s neck before she stills and grows pale. Alec stops breathing as he realizes she’s seen the ring on his finger. He feels Magnus start to pull away but it’s from a distance.

Alec jerks back, clearing his throat. His mind is fuzzy and he can’t think. It’s just white noise and terror, nausea building in the back of his throat at what his mother just saw, at the realization he can see forming in her eyes.

Taking another step back, he shoves his hands in his pockets. His shoulders hunch but he doesn’t notice the instinctive need to make himself smaller, less visible.

Maryse’s voice is quiet as she speaks, finally breaking the spell of silence that had decided on them.

“What’s is this, Alec?”

Eyes burning, Alec opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He can feel Magnus’s gaze heavy on him but it’s nothing to his mom right in front of him.

Speechless, Alec can’t form the words he needs to release the tension. He can’t deny that he was kissing Magnus and most of him-- damn near all of him-- abhors the very thought. Self-preservation wars with pride and he’s stuck in the middle, watching hopelessly as his relationship with his mother crumbles into fucking dust in front of him.

All of a sudden, Maryse shakes her head, just a little. She smiles but it’s brittle, already breaking at the corners as she says in a bright voice, “You know what-- I’ m sorry. I forgot I had a meeting and I’m running late. I have to go.”

Without another word or a backwards glance, Maryse sweeps past them, sunlight pours into the lobby from the hotel entrance for a few brief seconds before the door closes behind his mother and then it’s just him and Magnus, alone except for hotel staff that are keeping a discreet distance.

Alec just stands there, in the middle of the lobby. He stares at the door his mother had all but ran through and feels his heart break.

Tears blur his vision but they don’t have a chance to fall.

Magnus comes into his line of vision and Alec looks up to see his fiancé watching him with steady eyes. Alec closes his own as the knowledge crashes down on him about what just happened.

His mother saw him with Magnus and left. His breath hitches at what that means.

Despair starts creeping in, grief an insurmountable wave. He feels the first tear fall and knows it’s going to be the first in an ocean of devastation.

Magnus wipes away the tear, brings his other hand up to cup Alec’s face. He brings them together until their foreheads are touching but Alec keeps his eyes closed, desperately trying to stave off the tsunami of emotion that’s roiling just below the surface. He bites his lip and tastes blood but it helps stop him from breaking down in the lobby of the hotel and for that, he’s grateful.

“Come on, darling. Let’s get you home.”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just lets himself be guided outside and into the back of a cab. The ride home passes in a blur, all of his thoughts still back at the hotel.

Magnus leads them up to their loft and Alec changes mechanically into a pair of pajamas, pulling on a ragged hoodie of Magnus’s from when they were in college.

His fiancé doesn’t say anything, merely climbs into bed with him. Alec crawls over until he can rest his head on Magnus’s chest and even though he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough to hurt, he can’t hold back the sobs that have been building for almost an hour.

Shadows grow long in their bedroom as Magnus’s shirt grows damp. Neither one says anything and Alec’s fingers dig into Magnus’s sides trying to get a handle on the overwhelming pain of knowing that his mom had seen his truth and left him.

He’s an adult, a grown man, but it still hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad to know that his worst fears have been confirmed, that his mom can’t love him despite this one thing.

A small piece of him wishes he could be different for her. A larger piece is angry, furious that she would stop loving him just because he’s gay, because he’s not straight.

Most of him is just tired, though, and sadness is a suffocating blanket that lays over him like lead.

A headache is throbbing behind his eyes when Alec finally falls asleep, Magnus’s hands smoothing his hair, their hands held over his heart.

--

A few days later, Alec’s phone rings just as he’s about to take the lasagna out of the oven. Preoccupied, he doesn’t glance at the screen as he fumbles to answer, assuming it’s Magnus asking which wine would be appropriate for dinner tonight.

“Hey, babe, I’m making pasta if you wanna get--”

“Alec.”

Everything comes crashing to a halt as Alec hears his mother’s voice instead of Magnus’s.

“Mom.” Wariness seeps into his tone along with dread. He doesn’t know what to think, had assumed that they’d probably just never talk again.

Maryse is brisk and no emotion bleeds into her voice as she says, “I’m coming over tomorrow for lunch. I’ll see you at noon.”

She waits for Alec to manage a weak, “Okay,” before she’s rushing out a goodbye and hanging up.

Pulling the phone from his ear after he hears the two little beeps that signal the end of the call, Alec stares at the screen as it goes black.

He has no idea what to expect tomorrow and he’s startled from the whirlwind thoughts as his phone starts vibrating in his hand, this time Magnus’s name popping up on the screen.

He curses as he shoves the phone between his ear and shoulder, reaching for the oven mitts he’d abandoned just a few minutes prior.

He gets the lasagna out just before it starts to burn and when Magnus brings home a bottle of zinfandel, Alec ignores the inquisitive looks as he manages to drink the entire bottle--sans Magnus’s lone glass-- before they’re even done with their salads.

They make it an early night after watching a few hours of HGTV and when Alec wakes up the next morning, he has a faint headache as dread makes his stomach lurch.

Magnus had left early for work and Alec spends most of the morning cleaning the apartment. While Maryse had been over before, she’d always thought that the two of them were roommates. They’d shared a dorm room their freshman year of college and both had cited time and time again whenever she was within earshot that it was convenient to live with a friend they’d known so long and it helped cut rent costs.

Cursing the fact that he was a writer and had nothing to do since he’d just sent his latest book to his editor for final review-- Alec would’ve given just about anything today to have an office to go into-- he flinches when he hears a firm, insistent knock on the door.

Taking a deep breath, Alec opens the door to see his mother standing there. He’s surprised to find that instead of her usually severely cut suits, she’s wearing a pair of jeans with an oversized sweater.

He can’t remember the last time he say his mother dressed so down.

Her purse is held in a death grip.

“Mom,” he manages, opening the door for her to enter.

Maryse doesn’t say anything for a moment but then she stuns him by stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.

Not knowing what else to do, Alec wraps his arms around her and swallows hard when Maryse doesn’t immediately let go, when she just squeezes him tight and starts swaying them back and forth gently.

When she does finally pull back, Alec’s shocked and not a little dismayed to see tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Let’s have a seat,” Maryse says with a small smile and Alec must not move fast enough for her because she rests an arm around his back and pushes him toward the living room.

They sit down on the couch and Alec watches as his mom takes a deep breath, as though bracing herself, before she looks over at him. Whatever bravado she’d seemed to have has vanished and Maryse looks uncertain as she asks quietly, “How long?”

Taking the abruptness in stride, Alec’s voice is gentle as he breaks the news. He won’t hide the truth any longer and there’s a piece of him that’s glad to finally be honest. “We’ve been friends since college. We started dating five years ago.”

Maryse clears her throat and he thinks he sees disappointment in her eyes as she asks, “And how long have you been married?”

It takes a moment for the question to register but once it does, Alec merely shakes his head. “We aren’t married-- yet. We’re engaged.” His mouth kicks up into a quiet smile. “Magnus proposed a few months ago.”

As her shoulders slump with obvious relief, Alec’s hackles rise. It’s one thing to know his mother’s reaction; it’s another thing entirely to see just how relieved she is that he isn’t married yet.

Before he can snap at her though, she surprises him yet again when she says, “I knew you could afford rent on your own,” as though to herself.

Blinking stupidly at her, Alec doesn’t know what to say.

Maryse sighs and he’s horrified to see tears forming in her eyes. She smiles up at him and it’s sad. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clearing his throat, Alec says the first thing that came to mind. “I didn’t want you to disown me.”

Maryse closes her eyes, looking as though she’d just been dealt a blow. “Oh God, Alec.”

When she opens her eyes a second later, she meets his eyes and he’s a little taken aback at the intensity of her stare. “I love you, Alec. You’re my son. Of course I would never disown you.”

While a part of Alec thrills at the words he can’t help the bitterness that coats his insides. “You told me once that it would break your heart if any of your children were gay,” he reminds her. “You said that you would consider them ruined. Remember that and ask me again why I never told you.”

Maryse’s face leeches of all color. Her lips are bloodless as she asks, “When?”

Alec shrugs. “In high school.”

Maryse leans forward. Resting her elbows on her thighs, she stares in front of her, eyes unseeing. The steady ticking of the grandfather clock is the only sound in the room for a long while. Alec feels like his nerves are shredding but he stays still and waits for what comes next.

He remembers that day-- that morning-- with crystal clarity. He remembers the way his stomach had dropped at the words, the way he’d had to hide his unshed tears as Maryse signed a permission slip for Max. He remembers the ease with which she’d said the words and had known that she meant them with all her heart.

Those words had rattled around in his brain for ages before he’d successfully pushed them down. They still reappear sometimes-- whenever he thinks of ever telling her, whenever he sees the looks he and Magnus sometimes get when they hold hands in public. He’s in such a better place now than he was back then, though, and it’s with that thought in mind that Alec steels his shoulders and looks up to meet his mother’s eyes.

He sees tears spill over and Maryse wiping them away with a careless hand. “I won’t pretend to remember saying that, though I’m sure I did. I’ve had a lot of time the past few days to sit and think and I know now that I’ve said things that must have been hurtful. I am so sorry, Alec. I’m sorry you ever felt like I would disown you, like I would-- what? Stop loving you?”

Alec doesn’t say anything, merely nods mutely. Maryse takes his response and her eyes close in defeat. She covers her face with her hands and shudders.

Alec doesn’t comfort her. He doesn’t say a word. Most of him is on tenterhooks but there’s a big part of him that’s getting vicious satisfaction at seeing her so torn up over this. Maryse will never know just how deep her words cut or what he did to silence her voice in his head. They've gone a long way in mending their relationship since she divorced Robert but he figures she can handle a few tears.

Still, she is his mother and he does love her. When she drops her hands to look over at him again, he merely raises a brow, a challenge in his gaze.

Taking a deep breath, Maryse reaches over and covers his hand with her own. “I’m sorry,” she repeats helplessly. “I know it doesn’t mean jack shit, that it’s probably too little too late, but I am. You are my son, Alec,” she says with a smile that reaches her eyes. “You are my darling baby boy and you always will be. I want you to know that I love you and I accept you and there’s nothing-- absolutely nothing-- that you could do to stop that.”

Alec’s gaze drops down to his jeans. He’s suddenly uncomfortable under the onslaught but Maryse doesn’t let that deter her. She moves over on the couch and wraps her arms around his neck, hauling him close for a hug that hurts his ribs but eases his heart.

“I mean it,” she whispers and Alec’s breath catches on a sob as he realizes that this is actually happening. His mom isn’t yelling at him, isn’t staring at him with frigid disgust in her eyes. “I love you more than you could possibly know, Alexander Gideon Lightwood. I spent a lot of years unhappy and taking it out on everyone else, including my children. It shames me now how cold I was towards you, that it was to the point that you felt you couldn’t talk to me, couldn’t share that piece of yourself with me.”

Pulling back, Maryse smiles into his eyes as she thumbs away his tears. “You’re in love with Magnus,” she says softly. “And you’re going to marry him and I had no idea. I won’t offer excuses but I hope that you decide to let me in starting today. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me, Alec. About anything or everything. I’m always here for you, whatever you need. There’s nothing you can do to make me not love you. Okay?”

Alec’s throat aches and his voice is gone so he just nods.

They both sniffle and end up laughing, wiping their own tears away.

“I love you, mom. Thank you for being okay with this.”

“Of course I’m okay with this. I was shocked when I stood up from the table and saw you kissing Magnus and I didn’t handle that well, I’ll admit. I’m probably lucky that you even opened the door for me today,” she says with a grimace. “But whatever I was feeling, it was about my own blindness and whatever I had done to push you away. It was never in condemnation of you or your relationship. I hope you can believe that.”

“I can,” Alec replies just above a whisper. “It shocked me, too, to see you there.”

Maryse nods a little shakily. It’s quiet for a moment but it’s not awkward this time; it’s not tense. No, instead it’s contemplative and more comfortable than Alec could’ve imagined, to sit with his mother after she knew his biggest, darkest secret.

Eventually, Maryse shifts in her seat and Alec looks over at her to see his mother smiling and it’s teasing, yet still gentle.

“So, you and Magnus? I’ve got to admit that once I got over my shock and thought about it, it’s appallingly obvious that you two have been together for years, that there was more than friendship there.”

“What do you mean,” Alec asks blankly.

Throwing him an unimpressed look, Maryse drolly replies, “There was that time I visited your dorm at college-- this would’ve been your senior year-- only to find you moping around. I took you out for dinner and you spent the whole time talking about Magnus and his new girlfriend and how she was a vampire sucking all the life out of him.”

Alec rolls his eyes but can’t contain his blush. While he hadn’t known it at the time, Magnus had only gone out with Camille to try and bury his feelings for Alec. Alec, thinking he didn’t stand a chance next to Camille, had been heartbroken and snappish towards Magnus for the entirety of the three months the couple had dated.

Neither one of them had been at their best senior year, he thinks back now with a wince.

“There was also that time you and Magnus spent Christmas at the house and Magnus bought you that rare first edition book while you’d gotten him that Cartier ear cuff.”

When Alec gives her an incredulous look, Maryse just shrugs. “I know Cartier when I see it, Alec. I thought it a bit excessive to get your friend a piece of jewelry that easily cost a few thousand dollars.”

Groaning, Alec glares but it’s without heat. The heat in his cheeks returns, though, as Maryse continues.

“Oh, and let’s not forget that time we went on a family vacation and you insisted on bringing Magnus. At the time, you said it was because everyone else was bringing a date and you didn’t want to third wheel the whole trip. But then I went out to the pool one night and you and Magnus were there. Naked. You stammered something about you two forgetting your trunks but still wanting to swim and Magnus didn’t look me in the eye for weeks afterward. I really should’ve put the pieces together sooner,” she ends with a huff.

“I guess we weren’t all that subtle,” Alec grudgingly admits as he hides a smile.

“No, you weren’t,” Maryse agrees and they share a laugh before she suddenly sobers.

“Alec?”

“Yeah, mom?”

“I know that an hour can’t erase a decades-long chasm but I was wondering if . . .”

She breaks off and Alec turns to look at her, expectancy. “Yeah?”

“I was hoping that I could attend your wedding. I know I have no right to infringe upon your day but I would love to see my son get married, to see you happy.”

Alec’s quiet for a moment as he looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his engagement ring. “You know,” he starts. “When Jace and Clary got married, I was Jace’s best man. I sat at the bridal party table at the front of the room and watched as Jace and Clary shared their first dance. And then Clary danced with Luke and-- and you danced with Jace.”

Alec breaks off with a shuddering breath as he gathers his thoughts, turning over to look at his mom. “I watched Jace dance with you and I was struck with an envy so intense I could hardly stand it. I wanted that. I looked from the two of you over to where Magnus was sitting with all the other guests and I burned with resentment and bitterness and grief. I teared up and I cried and everyone just thought I was overcome with emotion because of Jace and Clary. They didn’t know it was because I was seeing something I’d never have but wanted so badly that I could taste it.”

Maryse’s expression is stricken as she listens to him but she doesn’t interrupt as he continues, “When Magnus proposed to me in July, I was the happiest man in the world. There was a piece of me, though, that mourned the fact that I couldn’t tell you, that I couldn’t share that joy. And I hated you a little for it,” he admits now. “I hated that even though you’d changed so much and our relationship was so much better, I still had to keep a piece of myself from you-- a pretty fucking big piece.”

Alec’s voice fades away as he reaches over and covers his mother’s hand with his own. “I would love nothing more than for you to come to my wedding, mom. I want to you to be there on the happiest day of my life. You can expect your invitation at the end of the month but consider this an official offer.”

“Yes,” Maryse chokes out. “Of course I’ll be there, baby.”

Alec smiles tremulously. “Thank you.”

Laughing incredulously, Maryse replies, “No, thank you Alec for giving me a chance. I promise I won’t fuck it up.”

Alec laughs a little at the language, something his mother rarely indulges in. “I’ll take your word for it,” he says and he knows by the look in Maryse’s eyes that she knows how important those words are.

Relaxing into the couch, Maryse looks over at him. “So, tell me all about Magnus, dear. It looks like I have a decade to catch up on and I can’t wait to hear about it.”

Alec looks at her for a minute, a pregnant pause where neither of them dare to breath before he’s leaning into the couch too for a more comfortable position and he starts talking.

He tells his mom about the first time they met and when Alec knew he had a crush on the man. He talks about their friendship and how it had become so much more and how both of them had been idiots for a couple of years before Alec had finally gotten drunk at his birthday party and confessed his feelings to Magnus who-- also drunk-- had immediately surged forward and kissed him.

Things had been a bit of a disaster for a few weeks after that, both of them thinking the other had merely done what they had because of the alcohol, before their friends had reached the breaking point and set them up on a blind date.

The rest is history-- except it isn’t because then Alec talks about their first date and the first time they said I love you and it winds around until he’s telling her how Magnus was his first boyfriend and how he’d realized he was gay in middle school and they laugh and they cry and Alec’s wrung out and exhausted and he can see his mother is the same but they don’t stop talking.

Eventually, when his face hurts from smiling so much and Maryse has curled up in the corner of the couch, his mom changes the subject.

“So, I did some research and I was wondering if you had plans for the afternoon?”

Looking over at Maryse, Alec’s interested is piqued as she reaches for the purse she’d set down on the floor. Opening it, she pulls out a dvd and holds it out for him tentatively.

There’s a hopeful look in her eye, cautiously optimistic, as she explains, “I ended up taking yesterday and Wednesday off. Whenever I left you at the hotel, I walked around for a couple hours and when I went into work Tuesday, I couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. I left before lunch and I’ve spent the past few days reading about what it’s like to have a child that-- that’s gay.”

She holds up a hand defensively though Alec hadn’t moved a muscle. Most of him is pleasantly surprised to see she’d cared enough to do anything.

“I read a few books and when I was online, I found a list of LGBT movies. This one is a newer one and had rave reviews. I thought maybe-- if you weren’t busy-- we could watch it together.”

Looking down at the dvd case, Alec bites back a laugh as he sees Love, Simon. Magnus had taken him to see it see it the day it premiered in theaters and the fact that his mom of all people had bought it and brought it over is an olive branch he never saw coming.

Nodding, Alec smiles at Maryse and catalogs the uneasy tension drains out of her at his acquiescence.

“I’d love to, mom.”

Alec stands and puts the dvd in the player. While the movie previews play, he makes a big bowl of popcorn and when he comes back to the living room with a glass of his mother’s favorite wine, she smiles up at him gratefully.

The two of them watch Love, Simon and while Alec had enjoyed the movie the first time he’d seen it, he’s distracted as he spends most of the movie watching his mother’s reactions.

She laughs and he’s a little-- a lot-- surprised when his mom mutters, “Fuck him,” when Martin starts blackmailing Simon, when she reaches for his hand and squeezes when Simon’s outed and his friends abandon him.

They both cry when Simon breaks down in his room, when his mom tells him that he’s the same person he’s always been, that now he gets to exhale.

When Magnus comes home, Blue has just been revealed and Maryse is crowing in triumph.

“I knew it,” she exclaims, turning to look at Alec. “I knew since he ate the damned orange oreos."

Hearing the front door open, Alec sees the way Magnus’s eyes widen at their tear-streaked yet happy faces. He sees his fiancé start to back away and turn tail, not wanting to intrude or his own sense of self-preservation rearing its head-- but Alec pulls away from where he’d been leaning into his mom to gesture Magnus closer.

Looking up at what had caught Alec’s attention, Maryse focuses on Magnus.

Alec catches his breath, knowing that this is make or break. Maryse can talk but when she’s confronted with the man Alec’s given his heart to, the man he spends his life with, he wonders if she’ll be able to really accept things.

Maryse stands up and Magnus looks caught between fleeing and steeling himself for whatever’s about to happen. His mom surprises them both when she pulls Magnus into a hug, holding him tight. Magnus, for his part, looks stunned but he drops his briefcase and returns her hold, slowly relaxing.

Pulling back, Maryse doesn’t even acknowledge Alec, all of her focus on Magnus as she says, “Thank you for loving my boy, Magnus, and while this is long overdue, I’d like to welcome you to the family.”

Magnus blinks twice before he eases into a grin. “Thank you, Maryse. I appreciate that and I hope you mean it.”

“Oh, I do,” Maryse whispers. “You’ve no idea how much.”

She smiles at him before making her way to the couch and as the end credits of the movie start to play, Magnus heads toward their bedroom to change into something more comfortable and appropriate for the evening they’d planned to spend at home.

Excusing himself from Maryse, Alec follows him and when he pauses at the threshold, it’s to see a dress shirt flying out of the closet to land on the floor. He walks over to Magnus and wraps his arms around his fiancé from behind, nosing along the back of his neck, kissing the juncture where it meets his shoulder.

“It looks like you’ve had quite the day, darling.”

Alec huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. She texted me last night, telling me that we were having lunch today.”

“So that’s why you got wine drunk.”

“Yeah,” Alec confirms before moving right along. “We had a talk and she’s okay with me-- with us. More than okay, in fact. It’s been a hell of an afternoon but we’re good, babe. Everything’s finally out in the open and it doesn’t look like it’s the end of the world, after all.”

Turning in his hold, Magnus lays his hands against Alec’s chest. “I am so incredibly happy to hear that, Alexander.”

The two of them talk for a few more minutes, catching up on their day before Alec asks, “Would you be okay if I asked her to stay for dinner? It’s okay if you had a long day and just want it to be the two of us but--”

Magnus holds up a finger, silencing Alec with a smile. “Of course it’s okay. You never have to ask to have your mother over, darling.”

Alec grins, a little dopey, and he takes Magnus’s hand and leads him into the living room. Maryse looks up at the sound of their steps and while he sees her take note of their joined hands she does nothing but smile.

She stays for dinner and ends up drinking so much that she spends the night in their guest room. The night had ended with the three of them having wine and swapping stories of Alec and while his face had burned in embarrassment, Alec wouldn’t have changed the evening for the world.

It’s everything he’d dared to hope for and nothing that he’d thought he’d ever get. For the longest time, it was nothing he thought he’d deserved and as he climbs into his side of the bed and moves over until he can reach Magnus, Alec’s content for the first time in longer than he cares to admit.

He hadn’t known just how heavy the weight of the truth had been all these years but now that his mom knows, he feels so light that he’s dizzy with it.

He’s the happiest he can ever remember being and he falls asleep without a care in the world.

--

Later that year, Alec looks up as the DJ announces that it’s time for the mother-son dance. Maryse stands from her seat and he can already see the tears in her eyes as she walks toward him, holding out her hands.

Alec takes them and they start a slow dance as the music starts to play. Maryse had asked to choose the song and as he hears the beginning notes, his gaze flies to hers to see his mom already grinning.

“They were you’re favorite when you were little,” she says with an arch look. “Nick was your favorite wasn’t he? Or was it Brian?”

He rolls his eyes a little, though he can’t help but mutter, “Nick Carter was cute, okay? At least back then.”

He’s treated to Maryse throwing her head back and laughing out loud and Alec echoes her as they move around the dance floor.

He listens to the words and lets the lyrics soak into him. By the end of the song, they’re barely moving, just moving back and forth really and Maryse is crying in earnest. A few tears slip before he can stop them and she wipes them away with a careful thumb.

When the song ends, instead of pulling back, Maryse pulls him close for a bone crushing hug and Alec holds her just as tight as he feels a piece of himself he’d thought gone long ago slot back into place.

It’s the feeling of coming home and whenever his mom eventually guides him over to his husband, she reaches for Magnus’s hand and lays it over his before letting go and saying, “Take care of his heart like I never could.”

Magnus looks at Maryse before his gaze lifts to Alec’s and Alec smiles, faint but real, as the love of his life replies, “Don’t worry, that’s just how I plan to spend the rest of my life.”

Alec hauls him close as Maryse steps back and lays a searing kiss on his mouth.

When they go out to the dance floor a few minutes later, they start an easy waltz as they grin at each other.

“And they lived happily ever after,” Alec says quietly, staring at Magnus like he’s his whole damn world.

“And they lived happily ever after,” Magnus echoes before pulling him down for a lingering kiss that breaks just a few seconds later, the couple smiling too brightly to continue.