#(dw too much i’m by the beach and eating while i drink)

[tumblasha]

everyone has a City that made them rethink their views on alcohol completely

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn’t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

[flowerfan2]

Group Texts Are Ridiculous (Or, Five-0 Starts a Group Text)

McDanno, T, A03, 6k so far

Summary:  After Steve leaves Oahu to go find himself, Five-0 starts a group text to keep in touch while Steve’s away.  Picks up after the end of Season 10.

Notes:  This story is set in the present, following 10x22, but there’s no COVID in it...  I wanted it to be fun.  The story is complete and will be posted over the next few weeks.  Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, @perryavenue.

Chapter 3

June 25, 2020

JR:  What’s the name of Steve’s vet, the one he sort of dated?

QL:  If you and Tani were considering a threesome you could have let me know.

TR:  News to me.  But I suppose we could talk…

JR:  Shut up.  Eddie’s hurt, do you know the vet’s name or not?

TR:  Oh no, what happened?

JR:  I’m not sure, we just got back from a run and he’s limping a little.

DW:  Don’t go anywhere.  Keep Eddie still, I’ll be there in ten.

JR:  Shouldn’t I take him to the vet?

DW:  Just called them.  Stay right where you are.

JR:  Danny, Eddie’s fine, I can just put him in the truck.  He probably just stepped on something sharp.

QL:  Is he bleeding?  You should elevate his leg.

JR:  No, he’s not bleeding, it’s not that serious.  

TR:  Can you tell which paw it is?

JR:  Of course I can tell, it’s the foot he’s holding up when he tries to walk.

DW:  Did you not understand the part about keeping him still?  Walking is not keeping him still.  Sit with him, don’t let him move.

 JR:  We’re sitting on the couch, don’t worry, Eddie is fine.  He’s licking my face.  Normal Eddie behavior.  I think he actually forgot about his foot.

 TR:  Doesn’t hurt to be careful.  Junes, where did you take Eddie anyway?  Just the beach?

 TR:  Junes?  You there?

 JR:  Sorry, had to let HPD in.

 TR:  Wait, why is HPD there?

 JR:  Apparently Danny sent them.  With flashers and sirens.

 TR:  Of course, that makes sense.

 JR:  Um, no it doesn’t.  Eddie is fine.  And Five-0 isn’t supposed to use HPD for personal stuff.

 TR:  Yeah, we never do that.  

 SM:  What the hell happened to my dog?

  July 5, 2020

 LG:  I hate all of you, but especially Tani.

 TR:  It was just lemonade, Grover.

 LG:  No, it was iced tequila with one lemon slice floating on top.

 TR:  Party lemonade.

 LG:  It’s not very patriotic to get your elders drunk.

 TR:  No one said you had to drink it.

 LG:  Pretty sure you said anyone who doesn’t taste my lemonade has to go home.

 TR:  I had already had some lemonade when I said that.  I can’t be held responsible for my actions.  Face it, you’re a lightweight.

 LG:  Clearly not true.

 TR:  Then why did Renee make you leave early?

 LG:  We had another party to go to, as I told you last night. Where is everyone, anyway?  I thought Junior and Quinn were on today.

 TR:  I’m sure they’ll turn up any minute.

 LG:  Junior is still asleep, isn’t he?

 TR:  The lump under the blankets just cursed at me when I thumped him, so no, not totally asleep.

 LG:  Tell him to get his ass in gear and get to work.

 TR:  He says his head is exploding and he wants to die.

 LG:  Requesting a sick day, then?

 TR:  I’ll come in instead.

 LG:  Seriously?

 TR:  It’ll be better than listening to Junior puke all morning.

 LG:   I didn’t need to know that. How come you’re all chipper?

 TR:  I drank a bunch of water before I went to bed.  Like you’re supposed to.

 LG:  Hey, did Danny ever show up last night?

 TR:  Nope.  

  July 11, 2020

 LG:  I’m at the dock, which way should I go?

 DW:  Towards the boats.  The big floating things.

 JR:  I can see you, keep going the way you’re facing, then head south when you get to the end of the

row.

 LG:  South?  Sorry, forgot my compass.  

 DW:  Just listen for the music.

 TR:  I can’t believe you know the words to Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. At least my music is relatively current.

 DW:  Grace was just the right age.  It got stuck in my head.  

 JR:  And now it’s stuck in ours.

 <i>TR has changed the name of the group text to</i> <b>Shake It Off Dance Party</b>

 QL:  Be there soon.  Just found Jerry wandering in the parking lot.

 JG:  I wasn’t wandering, I was organizing my gear.

 TR:  What kind of gear do you need for a boat ride?

 LG:  You do realize you are asking Jerry this.

 JG:  By the way, thanks for including me today.  I’ve missed you guys.

 DW:  We miss you too.  But if you could all hurry up, that would be great.  I’d like to leave the dock sometime before it gets dark.

 QL:  Do you guys do a Five-0 summer outing every year?

 TR:  Nope, first time.

 QL:  Really?

 TR:  Yeah, generally we get enough excitement at work.  And Danny has some issues with boats.

 DW:  I actually enjoy boats, when there isn’t any gunfire, or sharks, or poison. I only have issues with <i>Steve</i> and boats.  Steve isn’t here, so we’ll be fine.

 QL:  So much to unpack there.

 JR:  Didn’t Steve set this up?

 LG:  He surely did.  The boat belongs to a friend of his.  I think he thought we all needed some cheering up.

 TR:  You mean he thought Danny needed cheering up.

 DW:  If Steve wanted to cheer me up he wouldn’t have sent me on a boat trip with all of you.

 LG:  Ouch.

 JG:  We may have a slight delay.

 TR:  What did you do?

 JG:  I didn’t do anything.  But Quinn was texting and walking at the same time and tripped.

 DW:  Is she ok?

 JG:  She didn’t fall in the water.  But her phone did, and she’s kind of pissed.

 LG:  Well we’ve got beer, that might help.

 JG:  Now’s she in the water.  She’s trying to find the phone.

 JG:  Quinn can hold her breath for a really long time.  Kind of impressive.

 LG:  For pete’s sake, what’s the point?  She’s never going to find it, and it’ll be ruined anyway.

 JG:  I said the same thing, but she didn’t listen.  Now she’s going to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  To report a dropped phone?

 JG: I don’t know, she just told me to wait while she went to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  It’s not like we need our phones for fishing.  We probably don’t get service out there anyway.

 DW:  Hardly matters.  At this rate we’re never leaving the dock.

  July 17, 2020

 SM:  Send help to this address ASAP. My phone’s dying.

 DW:  WTF Steve?

 SM:  Tow truck kind of help.  Flat tire.

 DW:  It’s four in the morning here.

 SM:  Oh, sorry.  Got up early. Not that early.

 DW:  Way to give me a heart attack.

 SM:  Sorry, didn’t mean to.  You okay?

 DW:  Course I’m okay.  I’m in bed, asleep.  Or at least I was asleep.  Now Eddie’s awake too and thinks it’s time to get up and go for a walk.

 SM:  Wish I was there.

 DW:  What?

 SM:  In bed, I mean.  Instead of stuck on the side of the road.

 DW:  Where are you, anyway?  You haven’t mentioned lately.

 SM:  Near Yellowstone.  Been camping. Did some hiking into the backcountry.

 DW:  Sounds suitably outdoorsy.

 SM:  Yeah.

 DW:  Your phone doesn’t seem all that dead.  You could have called AAA yourself.  

 SM:  I wasn’t sure how long it would hold out.

 DW:  It’s okay.  I miss you too.

  July 18, 2020

 JR:  So we’re all ignoring that conversation, right?

 TR:  Yes, because we work for them, and we have better things to do today.

 TR has changed the name of the group text to Luau Luau Luau

 JR:  Good to know you’re excited.

 TR:  Just cross your fingers there aren’t any murders in the next six hours. I want to be there when the pig comes out of the pit.

 SM:  You guys are doing a real luau?

 TR:  Yup.  Kamekona dug the imu.  Or had someone else dig it, probably.  But that sucker’s been cooking for hours already.

 JR:  Hey Commander, how’s it going?

 SM:  It’s good, Junior.  Thanks. How’d you get Kame to cook you a pig?

 TR:  It’s to thank Danny for helping him with some kind of permitting problem for his new place in Kapolei.  Kame found out Danny had never done the whole pig in the ground thing, so he decided to show him how it’s done.

 SM:  You’re telling me Danny got up at dawn to put the pig in the imu?

 TR:  I can’t swear to it, I wasn’t there.  But that was the plan.  

 LG:  I was there.  And no, Kame didn’t do any actual digging, he got Nahele and his friends to do it.  We did have to carry some rocks.

 TR:  What do you think, Lou?  Pretty cool, right?

 LG:  I am in favor of anything that combines fire and meat, you know that about me.

 SM:  Danny must not have gotten any sleep at all.

 DW:  That’s why they invented coffee.

 SM:  How much did Kame charge you for it?

 DW:  Nahele brought us all coffee from Island Vintage.

 SM:  What, did he come into some money?

 DW:  I paid him back, you dunce.

 SM:  I can’t believe you guys are putting together your own luau.

 DW:  Makes you miss home, doesn’t it?

 SM:  Sure does.  Danny, you’ve really never been to a luau?

 DW:  Not really.  Seemed kind of touristy.

 TR:  That’s why you have to do it yourself.  I made chicken long rice last night, and Junior’s bringing the lomi lomi salmon.

 JR:  I wanted squid but Tani likes salmon better.

 SM:  Good luck getting Danny to eat squid unless they’re deep fried.

 DW:  I’ll have you know I haven’t had a fried fish in ages.  I’ve been grilling mahi almost every weekend.

 SM:  You have?  That’s awesome.

 JR:  He does a good job with it, too.  It’s never dry.

 DW:  Thanks, Junior.

 SM:  Clearly my healthy eating has finally made an impression on you, Danny. I’m so proud.

 JR:  I think it was his doctor that forced him into it, but whatever.

 SM:  What do you mean?  What’s wrong?

 DW:  Nothing’s wrong.

 SM:  High cholesterol?

 DW:  Shut up, I can eat whatever I want.  I’m just choosing to be more aware of what goes in my mouth, that’s all.

 LG:  Right, that’s why you banned malasadas from the office.

 TR:  Maybe he’s just trying to maintain his girlish figure.  

 JR:  Are you really trying to lose weight, Danny?  Because you’re as thin as I’ve ever seen you.

 LG:  I’m not sure they sell those slacks in extra-slim, you better be careful.

 DW:  Can we please stop talking about me?  

 SM:  Seriously, is everything all right, Danny?  

 DW:  You guys are ridiculous.  See you later at the beach.  You can ogle me there as I stuff my mouth with kalua pork.

  July 21, 2020

 JR:  Tani, you up?

 TR:  You know you can just come home and get into bed with me, you don’t need to say dumb stuff like that.

 JR:  Honestly I just wanted to know if you were awake.  It’s one o’clock in the morning.

 TR: LOL sorry.  Yeah, Quinn just left and I’m trying to clean up.  We tried to make fancy margaritas and it looks like Whole Foods’ fruit section exploded in my kitchen.

 JR:  What’s a fancy margarita?

 TR:  You know, you add in something that tastes good and something that tastes bad.

 JR:  That can’t really be the recipe.

 TR:  It seemed like it.  Grapefruit and rosemary – who wants rosemary in their margarita?

 JR:  Ok true.

 TR:  Strawberry and jalapeno was pretty good though.  But we put too many jalapenos in.

 JR:  Sounds dangerous.  How many have you had?

 TR: A good amount.  When are you coming home?

 JR:  Don’t know.  Adam and I are still parked down the road from the restaurant where the victim died yesterday.  Danny thinks whoever was responsible, the assistant chef probably, will break in tonight.

 TR:  Sounds fun.

 JR:  I’m bored out of my mind.  Ran out of things to talk about with Adam about two hours ago.

 TR:  Let’s play fuck, marry, kill.  

 JR:  Okay.  But let’s text just us, okay?

 TR:  Smart.  Okay, you go first.  Celebrities, fuck, marry or kill.

 JR:  Any celebrities?  That’s kind of broad.

 TR:  Ok, celebrities named Chris.

 JR:  You’re really making me go first.

 TR:  You’re the one who said you were bored.  I could just throw all this crap into the sink and go to bed.  But I’ll go first if you want.

 JR:  Okay.  

 TR:  And obviously no getting mad, right?

 JR:  Obviously.

 TR:  Fuck Chris Hemsworth, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Pratt.

 JR:  That was fast.

 TR:  I may have thought about it before.  Now you go.

 JR:  Fuck Christina Aguilera, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Noth.

 TR:  Very enlightened.

 JR:  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

 TR:  Agreed.  Okay, next. Marvel characters.  

 JR:  That’s kind of an overlap, isn’t it?

 TR:  Only with a few of them.  We’ll say no repeats.  You go first this time.

 JR:  Fuck Wonder Woman, marry Black Widow, kill Loki.

 TR:  Sure you didn’t reverse Wonder Woman and Black Widow?

 JR:  Nah.  If I’m going to spend my life with somebody I want her to have some depth, you know?

 TR:  I’ll revisit that when I’m less drunk.  Okay, fuck T’Challa, marry Tony Stark, kill Fury.

 JR:  Fury?  He’s a good guy.

 TR:  I didn’t like the way he faked his death.

 JR:  You confuse me sometimes.

 TR:  I think that’s okay.  Any sign of the assistant chef?

 JR:  No.  And Adam seems entranced by some game on his phone.

 TR:  Animal crossing?

 JR:  I think it’s some kind of card game app.  Jerry mentioned it.

 TR:  Why play cards on an app instead of in person?

 JR:  Maybe because you’re stuck at work at one in the morning.

 TR:  Fair.

 JR:  Okay, let’s do another round.

 TR:  Fine.  Five-0. Present or former members.

 JR:  No way.

 TR:  Come on, you must have thought about it.  

 JR:  No getting mad?

 TR:  Obviously.  And we can’t say each other.

 JR:  Obviously.

 JR:  You go first.

 TR:  Fuck Steve, marry Danny, kill Catherine.

 JR:  Again, you do this really fast.

 TR:  These answers aren’t hard.

 JR:  Didn’t know you hated Catherine so much.

 TR:  She screwed over my imaginary fuck buddy and my imaginary husband, so, yeah.

 JR:  I feel like you know more about this situation than I do.

 TR:  As with all things.  Come on, your turn.

 JR:  This is hard.  And very unprofessional.

 TR:  You cannot leave me hanging.

 JR:  Fuck Quinn, marry Steve, kill Adam.

 TR:  He’s that boring?

 JR:  He’s that boring.

 TR:  You know Danny thinks I’m just like Steve.  In the good ways.

 JR:  I’m aware.

 TR:  You only said Quinn because you couldn’t think of any other women on Five-0, didn’t you?

 JR:  Ok fine.

 TR:  Be honest, who would you pick?  Really?

 JR:  There’s no way you’re getting me to put that in a text.

 TR:  It’s just us, come on.

 LG:  No it’s not.  

 TR:  Oh shit.

  July 22, 2020

 DW:  Ok, regarding last night’s text message fiasco, I’m incredibly disappointed and have no choice but to run this by HR.

 TR:  Wait, we have HR?

 DW:  No, actually.  But I talked about it with Steve and we laughed our asses off.  Try to rein in the sex talk just a bit, okay?  And maybe don’t mention actually killing people in our group text.

 JR:  Sorry, sir.

 TR:  Sorry, boss.

 DW:  And Junior’s right.  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

[lookslikechill]

DW Valentine’s Special

I felt driven to write a little something for Valentine’s Day featuring Alistair Sheep and Miles Crawford, one of the Main couples, or arguably The Main Couple, in my novel-beast wip Daydream Walking.  I’m super happy with how it came out, to the point where I have to include it in my first draft, so I hope you enjoy it too!  Here is a playlist for them, and the writing is below the cut since it is rather long.

Come On Closer by Jem

You sit back now Just relax now I'll take care of you

Marlene On The Wall by Suzanne Vega

Observe the blood, the rose tattoo Of the fingerprints on me from you

Like Real People Do by Hozier

I had a thought, dear However scary

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T by Fall Out Boy

The distance between us It sharpens me like a knife

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by Cher

In my flat all alone How I hate to spend the evening on my own

Say Amen (Saturday Night) by Panic! At The Disco

Swear to God, I ain't ever gonna repent Mama, can I get another amen?

Shiver by Maroon 5

And I shiver when I hear your name I think about you, but it's not the same

Storm Song by Phildel

I'll send a storm to capture your heart and bring you home.

My Moon My Man by Feist

Take it slow Take it easy on me Shed some light Shed some light on things

The Lightning Strike (What If This Storm Ends) by Snow Patrol

I want pinned down I want unsettled Rattle cage after cage Until my blood boils

NFWMB by Hozier

If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felt by you, held by you Feel the power of your hand on me

Bonus Couple Song:  Your Man by Josh Parker Bonus Alistair Song: Little Pistol by Mother Mother Bonus Miles Song: Baby, You’re A Haunted House by Gerard Way

Content Warnings: Mentions of murder and death, some swearing.  Also the presence of a weapon. There is no smut here!!  But there is (hopefully) sexual tension, romance, and a good lot of kissing and touching.  

Alistair was in the small, well-lit break room at the tail end of a long day, with a lit cigarette in his right hand and a cup of joe in his left.  The shape of the room was long and narrow.  One long wall hosted a number of square windows through which the harsh, bright afternoon sunlight shone, while the other was taken up by a kitchen stove and one long counter with cabinets below.  On the stove sat a steaming percolator, on the counter beside the stove sat a wide, heavy ashtray, leaned against the counter next to the ashtray stood Alistair.  

He was tapping ashes off into the ashtray when Miles ambled his way in.  He had a way of moving that captured Alistair’s attention instantly; steady and confident, back straight, shoulders relaxed, pace consistent, like a well-trained hounddog at the height of his career.  Miles settled in front of the stove and into pouring himself some coffee.  “You should come home with me tonight,” he muttered, and jostled Alistair out of his thoughts.  He took a drag off his cigarette as anxiety crawled up his spine.

They had never existed together, intimately, outside of Alistair’s apartment, except for the smallest of hints or touches that could not possibly be seen or heard by another human being.  His apartment was safety, he knew every corner like he knew his own body, he knew the exits, he knew where he kept the knives, and he knew where every single dangerous creak, squeak, or groan existed in the furniture and in the floorboards and in the walls. “No,” he said on an exhale.

“Please,” Miles said without looking at him.  The clacking of the spoon against Miles’ cup as he stirred filled the room.  Was he being that loud on purpose?  Alistair couldn’t help sneaking a look toward the door, wide open to the rest of the department.

“Why?”

“You’ll like it.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Trust me.”  Alistair worked his lips around the end of the cigarette, damp yet firm, and took another drag.  “I’ll pick you up.”

“No.”

“Fine, you can follow me.  Civilian cars, civilian clothes.”

Alistair hesitated.  Miles slurped coffee out of his mug.  A phone rung somewhere in the building and a car started outside.  Trust me.  He heaved a sigh and put out his cigarette.  “Okay.”  He dropped his voice further and looked Miles in the face for the first time since he’d entered the room.  “Thirty minutes after we’re off duty.  I’ll be parked on Gerard Street.”

Before Miles, with his curls and his staring, seeing eyes, could respond, Sinclair walked his stupid ass into the room, and declared: “Hey, guys!  What’s happening?”

“Murder!” Alistair just barely didn’t yell. “Just talking about murder!”

“Happens all the time,” Miles confirmed grimly as he refilled his cup.  “It’s really very unfortunate.”

Quickly becoming somber, Sinclair nodded.  “It’s true.  It’s very unfortunate.  Anyway, let me in on that coffee action, Crawford.”

At 6:30pm, Alistair was sitting in his Ford on Gerard Street, in regular, soot-gray trousers and jacket.  He’d managed to bathe, mostly to get rid of hat hair, and he hadn’t had a cigarette since dropping into his apartment.  He idly chewed on the inside of his cheek and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he scanned the street for Miles Crawford’s cream Hudson.

He stopped tapping and sat up a little straighter when he saw the Hudson turn off of Golding Street onto Gerard.  His car rumbled and chugged around him as Miles drove right past him without making eye contact or at all acknowledging his existence.  When he could see Miles approaching the end of the street in his mirror, he pulled out and around to follow.

His anxiety lessened as he followed Miles through and around city blocks and out into the outer expanses of Port Cassandra.  Soon the ocean and the city alike were obscured by trees both tall and numerous with thick underbrush groveling at their feet.  Not only did Alistair feel calmer, now he was able to feel a spot of anticipation, a spark of excitement about where Miles was leading him.  He had never been to Miles’ home, and he had never heard him speak of it either.

Eventually Miles pulled off the main road onto one both rougher and narrower, and Alistair followed.  The road wound through the trees, and in places the branches reached out and scraped against the sides and roof of his car.  He flinched only because of the noise, not because of the damage.  His car was not one that was in mint condition, nor was it very new.

The trees broke slightly, and through them he could see slivers of ocean, flashes of beach, and, finally, a stout log cabin, all sharp angles and natural grains and colors, yet clearly weathered.  The cream Hudson, light and shiny against the backdrop of the forest, the greenery, and the cabin, pulled up close to what was clearly the cabin’s rear before stopping.  Alistair pulled up alongside and cut the engine.

He got out of his car with some effort.  The slamming of their car doors seemed loud and intrusive out here.  He came around to greet Miles between their two vehicles.  “This is where you live?”  There was a touch of awe to his tone that he did not intentionally put there.  

“Yeah,” Miles said.  He was holding a rather large paper bag in one arm.  He was wearing brown trousers with a blue, casual button-up tucked in.  “My father left it to me when he died.”

“Oh.”  He was a bit shaken by this.  Miles had never spoken of his father before.  “I didn’t know your father was dead.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  He wasn’t a good man.”

That made it the opposite of fine!  Alistair gingerly, slowly stepped close to Miles and set a hand on his shoulder.  Before he could say anything, though, Miles kissed him on the mouth.  He gasped and stepped back, quickly taking stock of their surroundings and seeing . . . no one.  

He turned back to see Miles wearing a shit-eating grin.  “Let’s not talk about that right now.  Come home with me, Alistair.”  

A shiver ran up his spine and he found himself smiling back at him.  “Okay.”

It turned out the bag Miles was carrying contained wine, crackers, cheese, and apples.  Alistair hadn’t thought to bring anything aside from himself and the condoms that lived in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing, so he sliced the cheese and apples and displayed them on a plate with the crackers while Miles filled two glasses with wine.  Of course, filling glasses with wine didn’t take much time, so after that he stood back and watched Alistair work.  And drank wine.  

Alistair still wasn’t used to being watched in a good way.  He was always so worried about being seen and found out.  “What are you looking at?”  He asked as he set the dirtied knife and cutting board into the sink in the cabin’s kitchen.  The inside of the cabin was small but clean and cozy.  In the living room there was a wide, short couch with a matching coffee table.  

“You,” Miles said as Alistair walked past and set the plate of crackers, cheese, and fruit next to the open bottle of wine and his own waiting glass.  “The look on your face, determined. The way you do things.  It’s very . . . “  His voice was breathy, low and loose.  “Effective.”

Alistair picked up his glass in one hand and stood up straight, looking Miles in the face.  Dark eyes, relaxed and calm, stared back at him.  “Yeah?”

Miles pushed off the wall he was laying his weight against and came around the coffee table.  He laid a hand against Alistair’s chest and pushed gently.  “Yeah.  Sit down, relax.”

Alistair obeyed.  Miles wiggled himself into the space between him and the arm of the couch, and threw his arm over Alistair’s shoulders.  “Drink,” he said into Alistair’s ear, his hot breath ghosting over the side of his face and the smell of wine hitting his nose.

He made physical effort to relax as he took a long sip of red wine.  He leaned into Miles and relaxed into the couch.  “I feel you have done all the work here,” he admitted, eyes on the wine wobbling in his glass.

“Not all of it,” Miles said, so close to him.  “Just most of it.  But don’t worry about it, I chose to do the work.  I just wanted to get you out here, I thought you would like it.”

He sighed, trying to expel the shreds of tension that fought so valiantly to cling to the inside of his chest.   He took another sip of wine and turned his face to Miles’.  “I do like it.”  He leaned more heavily into Miles, practically laying all the weight he could on him, and looked him in the eye before downing the entire glass of wine.  He set the glass gently on the table, beside the bottle, with a small ‘clink’.  “I just need you to fuckin’ kiss me before I have to go smoke a cigarette.”

Miles cradled his face with one hand and kissed him.  It was a gentle, soft, close-lipped kiss.  It was the sort of kiss Alistair remembered giving and receiving for the first time as a teenager.  Then, it was an experiment.  Now, it was a taunt.  

Alistair turned his head, opened his mouth, and Miles pulled back.

“Wait,” Miles said.

“What?”

“I love you.”

For a long moment, he was thrown speechless.  He probably looked like a deer in the headlights, or like an idiot, or maybe both.  He wasn’t expecting it- although, if he were to think about it, it wasn’t surprising from Miles.  And it wasn’t like he had never thought about how he felt about Miles, sex aside.  There was a lot to their interactions now that could not be discounted as just . . . buddies helping each other out.

Like the wine and the cheese on the table, and the way Alistair had made sure he didn’t have disgusting cigarette mouth before he got here, and how Miles had practically negotiated him out here because he thought he would like it.  Thought he would like it- no, Miles thought he could relax here.  And he was right.

He leaned forward and pressed one more chaste kiss to Miles’ lips, and then another to his cheek.  “I love you too,” he whispered against his skin, and shivered, but he wasn’t cold.

He felt Miles exhale, heavy and fast, like he was relieved, and then he was laughing a bit under his breath and his arms were tight around Alistair and he was kissing up his neck and nibbling his beard.

“Oh, my God,” Alistair managed, and he wasn’t unhappy.  He was smiling again.  He looked out at the darkening sky through the cabin windows, and he saw the trees, and he heard the night distantly.  He could not deny that this felt nice.

“I thought you’d freak out,” Miles admitted with his face pressed into Alistair’s shoulder.  There was humor in his voice, though it was a legitimate concern.  

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” he muttered.

Miles lifted his head and kissed him, and this time his mouth was open.  He tasted like wine.  His tongue was clever and his teeth were careful.  Alistair’s mouth was his for the taking.

Alistair surged out of his grasp, but only to throw himself into his lap.  He tossed his bad leg over Miles and shoved his right foot against the floor to push himself into position.  They only ceased kissing for the moment it took him to reposition.

He ran his hands up Miles’ neck and into his short, curly hair, cradling the back of his neck.  He felt Miles’ hands on his waist, massaging their way down through his clothes.  He bit gently at his lower lip, and Miles gasped.

“Alistair!”  He exclaimed, and pulled his gun out of its holster at his hip.  “Really?”

[byunbells]

11 Questions Tag

Rules:

Post the rules

Answer the questions given to you by the tagger.

Write 11 questions of your own

Tag 11 people

I was tagged by @vanillabyun @freckledksoo and @ratbyun thank u loves !! <3

This is super long so its all under the cut!

Questions from @vanillabyun (im screeching u did 12 questions on accident dw ill answer them all)

1. What is your middle name?

lol its Nicole <3

2. Favorite season?

FALL!

3. Favorite EXO album or repackage?

its complicated.... i would say the lmr repackage but i feel like power of music is abt to destroy that so ??

4. If you could only spend the rest of your life surrounded by one other person, who would it be?

I was gonna b sentimental and say my mom but...... bbh

5. Breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast?

ahhhh it depends on what the food is oops i dont eat breakfast ever so i would probably go with breakfast 4 dinner

6.  A place you want to visit?

I’ve already been but my favorite place to visit is Paris (im a hoe 4 history)

7. What would you change your name to if you had the chance?

honestly? would just change my name to my middle name (nicole) mostly so ppl dont ask me what gwen is short for anymore (its not short for anything)

8. You biggest dream? 

realistically... being able to travel as much as i want n have money i guess. the biggest dream is me snuggled up on a couch with hot chocolate while bbh plays the piano and sings 4 me tho

9. You favorite dessert? 

cheesecake! or anything mango flavored 

10. Movies or dramas?

dramas! I’ve never rly liked movies bc I dont get attached to the characters

11. Favorite color?

dark shades of purple.. i feel like purple is underappreciated

12. The eve or artificial love?

i would say the eve, but i’m a fake and artificial love is probably my most played exo song to date so idk

Questions from @freckledksoo

1. How did you get into exo? 

I slept on them until lmr comeback and then cried over the album until Ex’act came out and then i joined the fandom... the #1 reason i got into exo though was bc of bbh (also jongin a lil bit) in call me baby so yeah

2. Favorite genre of music?

R&B, but i’ve gone through numerous alternative phases, pffft i only listen to exo atm tho

3. Are you an organized person? 

im that person who tries to be organized and is motivated by cleanliness and boxes to put ur pens in, but eventually it turns into chaos.. the only consistent organization i have is not leaving things on the floor

4. Most underrated exo song?

HEAVEN 

5. Who is your bias wrecker and why?

erm im the most loyal so i dont really have one, but ksoo. yixing and pcy are the members i cry about the most besides bbh

6. Do you believe in personality types, astrology etc?

i definitely believe in personality types and to some extent in astrology, but we shouldnt put expectations or judgements based on types or signs (sometimes ppl take it too far n its annoying)

7. Favorite thing to drink?

water!!!!! <3 im not healthy though im a fake

8. Growl or Call Me Baby?

growl.. bc i still get overexcited about it when it comes on n i do (a really bad version of) the dance

9. What are some of your talents/achievements?

i draw things sometimes and im in uni so thats an achievement i guess

10. Best and worst hairstyles on your bias?

this is impossible .... the best hairstyles on bbh were all the ones from exo’luxion and i have to say the worst was the perm from wolf, but lbr.. bbh can pull of any hairstyle

11. If you could pick one of the members to be your friend, who would it be?

besides the obvious answer of bbh... minseok or ksoo 

Questions from @ratbyun 

1. If you had to get any exact tattoo that a celebrity has, what would it be?

i just realized most celebrities dont have like.. any good tattoos? so i guess it would be some thing like that flower eyeball tattoo that brendon urie has.. but honestly not even that lmao

2. Washing dishes or folding clothes?

I used to love washing dishes but then i learnt how to fold clothes real fancy and since then i kinda like folding clothes.. but also..... i avoid both

3. If they already aren’t, would you think your ult would make a good leader?

i think bbh is better at setting the mood and making sure everyone is happy than keeping people under control.. so absolutely not. i also wouldnt want him to have to sacrifice any part of his personality to be a leader (bc his wild self is perfect)

4. What’s the first song in your music library? The last?

its alphabetic so its starts with 4 Walls and end with a Monsta X song with a korean title. but out of the playlist i actually listen to (not alphabetic) its starts with artificial love and end in hey mama!

5. If you had to choose one your favorite celebrity hairstyles to have for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

idk i really like my hair :( but so i guess whoever has a better version of my hair then.. long wavy dark brown/black hair and doesnt look like its dying of thirst

6. Would you ever get a face tattoo? If so, what would it be?

the closest i would probably get would be behind my ear n it would be like some boring flower thing or smth

7. You have a choice of two piercings on your whole body, what are they?

erm a regular ear piercing (i never had mine re pierced so i just dont wear earings lol) and a lip ring

8.  What is your laptop/phone bg?

pfft on my laptop its the group pic from kokobop and my phone lockscreen is bbh from that one recent magazine photoshoot i think and my homescreen is the bbh teaser photo 4 pom

9. Was the last thing you ate a meal or snack?

snack!! i ate popcorn

10. What song got you into your favorite band/group?

idk whether it would be call me baby or lmr, i dont really remember that well

11. Last movie you saw at the cinema? Rating?

Guardians of the Galaxy 2 i think 10/10

Now here’s the hard part where i have to make up questions...

1. Favorite solo/collab song from any exo member?

2. Favorite slow exo song? 

3. How many pillows do you sleep with?

4. Favorite disney movie?

5. How many albums and posters do you own?

6. Something about your ult that is underappreciated and you wish more people paid attention to?

7. Have any unpopular opinions about biases or ults? (Ex. bbh stans and mullets)

8. Do you like going to the beach during the day or at night (or not at all)?

9. What concerts have you been to?

10. If you had one day to spend with a person of your choice, who would it be and what would you do?

11. How often do you dream and what do you normally dream about?

I tag @oshnverse @poutydaes @squishy-do @94-hun @ylxlng @baekhyuneeeee-exo @ehanyeol @starsehun @royalyeol (totally not 11 people but its 3 am) sorry if u didnt want to be tagged, only do it if u want <3