#(this is the second time this week my mentee has gone off on someone on my behalf but the last time was more just funny)

[sandwichrin]

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 22)

Chapter 22 - He messed up.

Word count: 4.5k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Hello~ Things are about to get intense now, wops!

Chani’s face was so close to yours you could literally feel his breath blowing in your face.

This isn’t what you expected it to be though. Never in your mind would it occur to you that your close friend in this place would like you this way.

Chani continued staring at you, his fingers still holding onto your chin in a gentle manner, waiting for your response.

“Chani…” you said slowly, your eyes averting away from him. “I really had no idea…”

Chani smiles at you and lets go of you. He lowers his head and lets out a forced laugh.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I just want you to know how I feel about you. Clearly you don’t feel the same way but yeah, it’s really fine,” his smile was tight, and you could tell that he was upset that your reaction wasn’t mutual to his.

You felt bad seeing him forcing his smile at you and so you let out a sigh.

“Chani, listen. It’s not that I don’t like you at all. I do like you. But maybe I don’t like you the way you like me…”

Chani ruffled his own hair, still trying his best to smile at you. “I get it. I mean, we’ve only known each other for couple of weeks too, so it makes sense for you to not have feelings for me,”

You nodded, showing him an apologetic smile.

“Ah! But it’s okay! I won’t give up! As long as you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll continue doing my best to win your heart,” he suddenly said, his voice filled with a newfound motivation.

You laughed at his quick change of emotions. “Sure, sure. Just as long as you don’t become a homewrecker,” you joked.

Chani grinned at you. Your laugh somehow made him feel better even though he knew how painful it felt when you avoided looking at him for a brief second after he confessed. He’s decided that even if you can’t return his feelings now, just having you here, laughing and smiling beside him, is good enough—for now.

The both of you sat back down in your seats, ready to move on from the short drama you both had.

You pulled the stack of modules towards yourself and started flipping through the pages.

Wait a minute.

You turned your head to your friend beside you.

“Chani!”

“Whoa, what??” Chani responded, startled that you had suddenly mentioned his name.

“What the hell are you still doing here?? Shouldn’t you be back with your group downstairs??”

“Ahh. About that…” he paused. “I uh, switched groups. I’m now in your group! Isn’t that great?!” he said cheerfully.

Your eyebrows raised, not believing what he said. “I—what??” you shook your head. “How is that possible? I thought Bomin said that all groups are final and that no one can change their groups?”

“Hey, I have my ways, okay?”

Suddenly, your phone started ringing. You held up a finger to Chani, signalling him to keep quiet as you answered the phonecall.

Chani waited as you talked on the phone for a while.

Once you were done with the call, you placed your phone on the table and turned to your friend with a skeptical look on your face.

“Chani, did you really switch groups?”

“Yeah, I did. Why?”

“Uhuh, okay then, explain to me why did Kevin call me up and asked if I knew where you were because you had been missing from your meeting room for almost half a day,”

“Huh?? But I already told Kevin-hyung that I was switching groups!”

You raised an eyebrow. “How did you tell him?”

“Yesterday after lunch I marched into my group’s meeting room and told it straight to Kevin-hyung’s face that I won’t be joining his group anymore and that I’ll be joining yours!”

You blinked a few times. Well, it does sound like what Chani would do since he has quite the guts to behave that way.

“Huh…then what did Kevin say to you after you told him that?”

“I’m not sure,” Chani shrugged. “I immediately left after I said all those things to him. I feel like he did say something but I was already walking out of the room,” he continued.

Your jaw fell. “What?? Chani! You should’ve waited and listened to what he said first! And where did you go after that?? You didn’t even return to your meeting room after that??”

“No, I just went to hang with the iKon hyungs in their practice room,”

“Oh my god, Chani,” you groaned, facepalming at your friend’s behaviour.

*

It was after lunchtime that you had dragged Chani to go meet his original group leader; Kevin. And after a long discussion, Kevin agreed on letting Chani go under your supervision for the remainder of the week. I mean, it’s only for another 2 days? What could go wrong?

Ding! The both of you stepped out of the elevators, Chani being in front of you, whilst you try to keep up with his steps behind him.

“Slow down, Chani. I’m not done talking,” you huffed.

“Well I’m done, y/n.” he said, as he walked forward, not even turning to look at you.

“Chani! This is serious!”

Chani stopped walking. He turns around to face you, his height making you have to lift your head up slightly to talk to him.

“This is serious,” you repeat.

Chani lets out a loud sigh. “Look, y/n. I told you, it’s gonna be alright,”

You shook your head. “No Chani. Didn’t you see Kevin’s face earlier? He was reluctant to let you go! Clearly you need to stop acting like as if your dad owns this company and just listen to what your higher-ups tell you to do!”

“So what?!”

You were startled when Chani raised his voice at you.

“W-what?”

“I said, so what?? So what if I treat as if this company was owned by my dad? What can you do about it?!”

Your mouth hung open. You were too speechless to even argue with him back. You had a lot of answers but then again it took you by surprise how Chani was lashing out at you right now.

Chani realised how harsh he had been on you so he started rubbing the temples on his head, trying to calm himself down.

“Look, y/n. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—” he paused. He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Why does it seem like you don’twant me to be your mentee? Or…do you not like the idea of me being around you all day in that cramped meeting room of yours, huh?”

“Oh my god, did you just insult my meeting room??”

“Oh god y/n, you’re not really flipping over that. Tell me, you just hate the idea of being stuck with me, right?!” Chani added, admitting his insecurity of you not wanting to be with him at all.

“I—what?? I never said that!” you argued back this time.

“Then what is it?? Why won’t you just let me off the hook?! Yes, Kevin-hyung didn’t want to let me switch groups, but I did it, didn’t I?? It happened! I just wanted to make you feel like you had someone to tutor! You said it yourself, you felt useless when you found out no staff signed up to be in your group,”

You pursed your lips tightly. What Chani said wasn’t a lie. You were this close to asking for a demotion from Mr Bae when you had lost motivation in your work earlier this week. You felt tears brimming up your eyes, you tried hard not to let it flow down your cheeks.

“Ehem,” both you and Chani heard the person clearing their throat.

Chani turned around to see who it was behind him, and it was none other than Jihoon and Junkyu.

You moved slightly to see who it was as well, and you hurriedly blinked back your tears when you saw who it was.

“Oh hey, hyung,” Chani greeted them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you lovebirds’ fighting but uhh, could you maybe do it on your own floor?” Jihoon asked, giving a sarcastic smile.

“What?” You said, not understanding what he meant.

Jihoon pointed at the signage above your head, and both you and Chani looked at it.

“Oh? How did we end up on the 3rd floor??” You asked, baffled at how ridiculous it is for the both of you to end up on the wrong floor.

“Aish, I must’ve pressed the wrong button earlier,” Chani said.

“Whatever, let’s get back to our floor,” you said as you sighed.

You were about to leave the spot when Jihoon called out to you, “Y/n. You alright?”

“Huh?” you asked back.

“You look a bit…upset. You want to hang with us for a bit?” Jihoon asked.

“I…” you began to say. You stopped halfway when your eyes met Junkyu. He had his usual clueless yet cute expression, his eyes blinking a couple times, not understanding what was going right now.

“I guess I could use a breather…” you continued.

“Ah but y/n, we need to get back to work, don’t we? Maybe next time hyung?” Chani interrupts you. He immediately wraps his arm around your shoulder, earning sharp glares from both Junkyu and Jihoon.

Now, usually you would have gone with Chani’s flow and let him have his way but right now you were still upset with how he had been behaving today so instead of agreeing with him, you pushed his arm off of you and shot him a glare as well. “Enough, Chani. I’m leaving.” You faced both of your Treasure friends and forced a smile at them. “I’ll talk to you both next time then? I’m heading towards the offices upstairs to send in some reports,”

“Oh? You’re not heading back to the meeting room? I can accompa—”

“You head back to the meeting room and complete modules 1 and 2, Chani. I’ll see you later,” you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

With that, you turned your heel and left the three of them.

Chani was about to chase after you when Jihoon’s voice stopped him.

“Huh. I’ve never seen y/n that upset before. Already stirring up drama again, Chani?”

“Oh come on, hyung. What do you guys have against me??” Chani shot back.

“Nothing! I was just surprised to see y/n worked up like that,” Jihoon said in a calm manner.

“Yah, Chani. Quit it. I know how much you care about y/n, but try not to push her around too much, okay?” Junkyu suddenly spoke up.

“Please, hyung,” he scoffed. “You’re just jealous that y/n spends more time with me and not you,”

“Hey, what’s with the sudden attack? I was just advising you,” Junkyu said, frowning.

“Okay chill it you two,” Jihoon stepped in between them before they could walk up towards one another.

“Chani, just go back to your meeting room, okay? Y/n would be more upset if she comes back to see you not doing your work.”

Chani lets out a deep exhale and nods at Jihoon. “I’ll be going then.” He walked away, not saying goodbye to them.

“Wow, he’s gotten rude,” Junkyu said in an upset tone.

“Aigoo, he’s just upset, that’s all. I mean, they fought a little too loudly, don’t you think?” Jihoon chuckled.

“Why do you look so happy? Y/n looked like she was almost crying,”

Jihoon wrapped his arm around his best friend’s shoulder. “Aww, look at you being concerned with y/n! Why didn’t you say anything earlier while she was here though? I bet it would’ve made her feel better if you had said something,”

Junkyu pouted at this. “You know how I get around y/n when you guys are around me. I just couldn’t say anything,”

“Aigoo you’re too cute Junkyu-ah! No wonder y/n likes—” Jihoon immediately covered his own mouth and giggled. “Wops! I almost said too much, didn’t I?”

“What? Y/n likes what?”

“Nothing~ Just continue staring at that picture I sent you like you did when I entered your studio,” Jihoon said in a teasing tone as he unwrapped his arm from Junkyu’s shoulder.

“H-hey! I wasn’t staring at her picture! I told you I was busy reading an article!”

“Eyy, sure you were,” Jihoon smirked.

*

YG Building (3rd Floor / Evening)

It was close to the end of the day when Junkyu exited his studio to hurry towards their usual practice room.

It’s usually at this time, isn’t it? He thought to himself as he passed by Yedam’s studio room, not noticing that his friend had just exited his studio door as well.

Junkyu glanced over his phone to look at the time.

One more minute!

At this rate, Junkyu had sprinted towards the practice room, to the point that he couldn’t hear Yedam calling out his name behind him.

The moment he arrives in front of the practice room, he noticed a figure on the opposite side of the building, just a floor above.

“Ah, I was right. She’s always out of her room at this time,” he muttered to himself softly, a smile forming on his lips.

Junkyu collected his breath, not wanting to sound out of breath if he calls out to you.

Ah, but then. Wouldn’t it be too coincidental if he called out to you at this time? This was the exact time he noticed you were always outside, getting ready to leave work.

Just like the first time he saw you that time.

Junkyu gulped, hoping he wasn’t coming across as a stalker now that he’s always watching out for your presence. Not to mention the timing too now…

Junkyu shook his head, shaking off his lingering thoughts. He raised his head to look up at your figure that was nearby the railings—but not close enough for him to catch your attention.

What should he say? Should he just call out to your name? Text you first?

“Hyung!” a voice approached him.

Junkyu turned to look who it was. Ah, Yedam.

Yedam waved his hand at Junkyu as he made his way towards his hyung.

“Hyung, what are you doing here? We don’t have dance practice today, do we?”

“Ah, no. We don’t…”

“Right? Aigoo, I was flustered earlier when I saw you running past me, hyung!” Yedam chuckled. “So, what brings you here, hyung?”

Junkyu wanted to answer his friend but at the same time he was distracted with wanting to call out to you before you leave.

Yedam noticed Junkyu’s eyes looking over to the other side for a brief second, which makes him look at the other side as well.

Yedam was about to worry over why his hyung was staring at an empty hallway on the other side of the building when his eyes glanced over a moving figure on the floor above.

“Oh? Isn’t that y/n?” Yedam pointed out.

Junkyu chuckled nervously. “Ahuh, yeah.”

“What a coincidence! I haven’t seen her for a while now too,” Yedam said. “Should I call out to her?” Yedam asked further.

Junkyu shrugged at the younger member beside him, his eyes still watching over how you were busy checking your bag thoroughly.

Yedam raised his hands to his mouth, wanting to call out to you—when suddenly an arm wrapped itself around your shoulder.

Yedam stopped his action, a startled expression forming on his face.

Junkyu on the other hand, had a frown on his face, since he knew who that arm belongs to.

A second later, Chani’s figure showed up near the railings. He looked like he was trying his best to make you laugh but clearly you weren’t in the mood for it.

Junkyu lets out a sigh. Again, Chani was there with you. How is that possible, though?? How did it become ‘Chani is everywhere’?? Shouldn’t it be ‘Treasure is everywhere’?? Wasn’t that the right slogan??

“Hyung…are Chani and y/n dating…?” Yedam asked, his voice slow.

Junkyu swiftly turned to look at Yedam. “What?”

*

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Weekend)

Aaaandd we’re time skipping towards the weekend now. Nothing exciting happened throughout the remaining of the week too, to be honest. You were busy mentoring Chani, the both of you spending most of the days at work together that week, which made Chani happy, and you, well, you were unaffected in any way.

You were just glad you finally got some real work to do, as usual. And being with Chani no longer got on your nerves since he listened well and behaved his best throughout the week.

You didn’t bump into or talk to any of your Treasure friends though, since you had been caught up doing work and busy tutoring your ever-needy friend, Chani.

As for Junkyu, he had made it a point not to look out for your presence after countless of times catching Chani clinging on to you everywhere you go at any time. It was starting to annoy him too much. His only solace whenever he misses you was to stare at your photo that Jihoon sent the other day.

Now, back to where we are today—

The boys have all gathered at Dorm 1 for a group lunch to celebrate Asahi’s success in writing half of their songs for their soon-to-be released album in the few months to come.

“Yeahhh Asahi-hyung!! When they said they’ll be picking 4 of your songs for our next album, Haruto almost cried, did you know that?” Yedam jeered.

Asahi smiled and nudged Haruto who was sitting beside him on the sofa.

“That’s not true! Something got into my eye at that time,” Haruto responded, trying to cover up what Yedam said.

“Yedamie~ Could you help out in the kitchen for a bit?” Jihoon’s voice called out from the kitchen.

“Sure! Be right there!” Yedam called out to his hyung.

*

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Kitchen)

“Okay but who’s idea was it to let the kids help out in the kitchen?” Junkyu asked as he watched Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk laughing and tossing flour at one another.

“Aigoo Junkyu-aa, you’re not much of help either,” Jihoon said in return.

“Heyyy that’s not fair! I’m watching over these kids—that’s a lot of help,” he said as he points at both of the younger members who looked like they had just run through a rain of flour.

Jihoon laughed as he saw Jaehyuk’s and Jeongwoo’s face covered in patches of flour.

“Okay kids~ Let’s get cleaned up~” Yoshi said as he approached them. He pulled both of them along with him to exit the kitchen, leaving traces of white powder on the floor as they passed by those who were in the kitchen as well.

“Okay! Role-check!” Jihoon said as he stood in the middle of the less crowded kitchen.

Doyoung, Mashiho, Yedam and Junkyu stood up straight upon hearing Jihoon’s voice.

“Doyoung, you work on the kimchi jjigae with Mashi. Yedam, you help me chop up these veggies for the stir fry. And junkyu…” Jihoon’s voice trailed off, thinking of what to let Junkyu do.

“I can help chop the veggies too,” Junkyu said.

“No way,” Jihoon shook his head. “Remember the last time you tried to slice that onion? It took you minutes to slice half of the onion.”

“Maybe Junkyu-hyung can just rest in the living room with the others?” Yedam suggested.

“Nooooo I wanna helppppp,” Junkyu whined.

“Aigoo this kid. Fine, you help me and Yedam to separate the veggies into two piles, okay?”

“Easy!”

“Yup, so you just need to put in the veggies that are hard into this bowl here,” Jihoon said as he showed the first bowl to Junkyu. “And then the softer veggies you just add it here,”

“Okay, got it.” Junkyu replied confidently.

“Alright then, let’s get started!” Jihoon said in a motivated tone.

Doyoung and Mashiho started prepping for their jjigae on one side of the kitchen, leaving the middle kitchen island to be occupied by Yedam, Jihoon and Junkyu.

Since Doyoung and Mashiho were in charge of cooking first, the both of them had swarmed over the kitchen stove area, completely focus on making their dish.

Jihoon and Yedam started on chopping their vegetables, facing Junkyu who was standing opposite them, waiting for both his friends to finish chopping so that he could start doing his task.

Junkyu’s back was facing the kitchen entrance, which makes him turn around to see who it was that passes by every time he hears any noise coming from outside the kitchen.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP THAT!”

Junkyu turned around again, hearing the laughter that came from the living room.

Jihoon noticed his friend’s behaviour and said, “Hey, Junkyu-aa. You can join them inside if you want to. There isn’t much to help yet here anyways,”

Junkyu turned to face his friend. “Nah, it’s okay. I wanna stay here. I want to help around too,”

“Okay, fine.” Jihoon smiled at him.

“Oh, right. Where did Hyunsuk-hyung go to? He’s been out ever since I first arrived just now,” Yedam asked as his eyes stayed focus on the carrot he was chopping.

“Oh yeah. I think hyung went to the lobby downstairs to get his package from the office.” Junkyu answered.

“Ahh,”

“Hyung, how many spoonsful of red pepper powder again do we add if it’s this much water?” Mashiho spoke up in all of a sudden, directing his question to Jihoon.

Jihoon stopped chopping and placed his knife onto the cutting board. He walked up towards the stove and glanced over the pot that was placed over the hot fire.

“Hmm. Just add in 3 tablespoons. I think that’ll do.”

Mashiho nodded and poured the red pepper in, making the whole kitchen engulfed in its smell.

“Woo! That smells good already!” Jihoon cheered as he watched Doyoung stir the broth.

“Haha, this reminded me of that spicy jjigae we ate with y/n that one time,” Yedam chuckled.

“Oh? I don’t remember eating that with y/n,” Doyoung said.

Everyone turned to look at Yedam now, curious of when he actually ate with you without them knowing about it.

“Oh silly me! It was that time when Jaehyuk-hyung and the rest of our dorm members visited her place to retrieve his banana milk!” Yedam laughed slightly. “Man, that was a long time ago,” he said shaking his head.

“Hmm. It’s been a while since I last saw y/n. I kind of miss her,” Doyoung said.

Again, this time, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Doyoung. Doyoung was busy looking at the broth he was stirring so he didn’t realise that everyone was looking at him.

“Y-yah, why are you suddenly missing y/n,” Junkyu spoke up.

Doyoung lets out a short laugh, finally looking up from the pot and noticing that everyone’s eyes were on him. “Of course I miss y/n. Don’t you all do? She was always so fun to have around,” he responded.

“True,” Yedam nodded. “Oh, speaking of y/n! Hyung, didn’t we both watch something interesting the other day?” Yedam gestured at Junkyu, asking his hyung about this.

“Hm? What about y/n?” Jihoon asked.

“Yeahh hyung! Junkyu and I saw Chani-hyung and y/n being very close the other day,” Yedam said.

“How close?” Jihoon snickered, not believing fully what Yedam had seen. “I mean, remember that time when you kids tried to lock Chani and y/n in that practice room during their building tour? You guys said they were being too close with each other too. And that was all a misunderstanding ‘cause we’re that close with y/n too, don’t forget that.”

“Noooo this one is different! They looked like a couple! Isn’t that right, hyung?” Yedam asked Junkyu.

Junkyu shrugged. He had lost interest in the conversation the moment Chani’s name was mentioned.

“Huh. Now that you mentioned it, I do notice Chani being around y/n a lot lately. Like, they were already close. But nowadays they looked extra close,” Mashiho suddenly spoke up.

“Hyung…is it really alright to let y/n be that close with him though?” Doyoung asked, a worry expression forming on his face.

“Pfft there’s no need to worry. Y/n will be fine. Beside, she’s got us, isn’t that right, Junkyu?” Jihoon said confidently.

Junkyu lets out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“Hm? You don’t?” Jihoon stopped chopping the green beans he was holding. Usually, he would’ve assumed Junkyu to be joking when he said he doesn’t care about something but judging from his tone and expression, Jihoon knew something was off.

Junkyu lets out another loud sigh. “I really don’t. They can do whatever they want. He’s literally leeching on her so yeah, if she gets burnt along the way for getting involved with him too much, that’s on her,”

Mashiho shook his head, showing that he disagrees with what Junkyu had just said. “That’s not very nice, hyung. They’re both our friends. We should look out for them whenever we can. You know, so that they won’t get into trouble with you-know-who,”

Yedam, Doyoung and Jihoon all nodded at this.

Junkyu lets out an annoyed scoff.

“I’m back! Where is everyone??” They heard Hyunsuk’s voice saying from outside the kitchen.

“I’m in the kitchen, hyung!” Doyoung called out back to his hyung.

“Yah, Kim Junkyu. You better watch out on what you say. You don’t really mean that,” Jihoon suddenly said, resuming the conversation they had earlier.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it? Y/n is a nobody! She’s just someone we literally know for months—hardly achieving a year! Who cares what happens to her? She can hang with whoever she wants.” Junkyu replied in a bitter tone.

“Junkyu…” Jihoon said slowly.

“No, no. Don’t try to sweet talk me into talking good things about y/n. She doesn’t care one bit about us. We’re always looking out for her, but what do we get in return??” He paused. Junkyu took a deep breath before adding, “Y/n is annoying,”

Jihoon laughed nervously. “HAHAHAA very funny Junkyu! Look at you! What a horrible joke to make!” he continued laughing awkwardly.

Junkyu shook his head. “No, I wasn’t kidding! Y/n really is annoying. She’s a bother—”

“HYUNG STOP!” Yedam said loudly, shocking everyone.

Junkyu was too shocked to speak now since Yedam has never raised his voice towards him. Junkyu was about to get mad at him but then he noticed the fear and worried looks on everyone’s faces.

And that’s when he felt cold sweat dripping behind his neck.

He slowly turned around.

And there at the kitchen doorframe, stood you and Hyunsuk—both eyes wide and speechless.

Junkyu swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Y-y/n…” he began to say, his voice small now.

You stood there quietly, your fingers fiddling over the small paper bag in your hand. You stared back at him, your heart beating loud by the second.

To be continued…

[monaisme]

One Week Later - Chapter One

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

He had drifted in and out of the consciousness for the first five days-- which he guessed, after the fact, had been a blessing.

His transformation, which had taken three days the first time 'round, still hadn't quite finished seven days later.

He was trying to be patient but, well, it would’ve been nice to sleep all the way through to the end. It seemed he was destined to suffer fits and jags of pain and spontaneous naps to recover from them. It hurt... and it sucked.

Dr. Cho couldn't be 100% certain as she hadn't been around after the bite, but she'd felt safe in assuming that the prolonged change had to do with all of Peter's injuries from both Titan all those years ago and the battle in Upstate New York. The concussion had been pretty significant, according to the doctor. Multiple scans had been taken to keep track of that healing, seeing as he'd been so out of it from the worst of the fever. The broken ribs still had a ways to go towards knitting back together but he could inhale just a little deeper before it hurt so that was a win. And there was no need for stitches for the deeper stab wounds—Mr. Stark’s nanoparticles were taking care of that. The dislocated shoulder, however, still required surgery.

Correction. Another surgery. Peter looked up at the clock on the wall... in about thirty minutes.

Arthroscopic surgery had apparently been performed on the second day after the battle, once all of the other wounded had been tended to, not that Peter remembered much from those first five days. Tendons and cartilage had been damaged to the point that Dr. Cho was certain it needed intervention so she'd done her medical magic per Spider-Man protocols, being as non-invasive as possible, knowing that Peter's body could do the rest-- except that it hadn't.

It had been quite the gong show, in fact—his fever had spiked along with his blood pressure and all sorts of bad things had Dr. Cho plus Mr. Stark and all the rest worried out of their minds.

... but he was definitely on the mend now.

Really.

Peter fussed at his hospital gown nervously and  wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he still had some dust stuck somewhere in him-- gumming up the works like Uncle Ben used to say when their old '97 Pontiac Firefly would stall again and again and again-- or something like that. He couldn't be sure, but yeah, he was definitely curious about it.

"Knock, knock!" The rapping of knuckles against the door frame pulled Peter from his commiserating. "Guess what surprise the most super-amazing best mentor on the planet got for his currently boo-booed Spider-mentee?" Mr. Stark grinned big and slid into the med bay room.

Peter tried to think of something he’d wanted, then brightened immediately as hope flared. He looked to the man and then at the doorway Mr. Stark had just vacated. "Is May here?!" He asked eagerly. He repressed the flinch of pain as he struggled to sit up in the bed. "Did Dr. Strange finally get May here? May?!" He called out.

Peter was too busy trying to look around Mr. Stark to notice the look of regret flashing across his face before he could school it into something more sympathetic. “I’m sorry, kid.” He stepped up to the bed and moved to help Peter lay back down. “I should have been more thoughtful.“ He pulled the blankets back up to the boy’s neck and tucked him in tight. “One of the wizards was willing to make a pit stop and grabbed you a sandwich from Delmar’s before coming back to Wakanda. It came back hot so I’ve got it hiding away in one of the kitchen’s fancy stasis units and is ready for you as soon as you get the all clear from Dr. Cho to eat after they take care of...” Mr. Stark waved toward Peter’s shoulder, “that.”

Peter flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I just thought that...” He trailed off, and sighed. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, Mr. Stark, I promise! It’s just that everyone else has family being brought over and I’m sure that everyone is really busy, I only hoped that...” His eyes glistened with tears he was trying so hard to not let fall. He used his arm to brush the wetness away. “I’m just being a baby. Sorry.”

He had tried to tamp down the jealousy he’d felt when Mr. Barton had popped by to introduce himself properly and had gushed about how amazing it was to see his wife and kids after the last five years—not that he could wrap his brain around that bit of information yet, but still—

Where was May?

Mr. Stark interrupted his wandering thoughts with the brushing of his hand against Peter’s cheek. “You’re not being a baby, so stop talking that way. You’re allowed to miss her, and once this is all over and you get the all clear to leave the med bay, we’ll get you to our temporary quarters so you can have a good, long video call with her, okay?” Mr. Stark moved to run his fingers through Peter’s hair, then leaned forward, “Don’t tell anyone I said this,” He whispered conspiratorially, “But the tech here is incredible. When everything is settled, we may need to set up a play date between you and Shuri.” He gave a wink and straightened up as he noticed one of the nurses enter the room with a rolling cart full of medical supplies.

The nurse smiled kindly at the two heroes and then focused on Peter. “I’m glad that you’re awake. Dr. Cho has asked me to get final prep out of the way.” She snapped on a pair of gloves and starting pulling out supplies for an IV. “She’d prefer a new line so we can keep you on the IV nutrients during the procedure,” She assessed his still slinged arm, then moved down the bed to uncover his leg. “I think we’ll do a little reorganizing so we can just get this done quickly and be off. The surgical suite is ready for you, so if you’re good, we can get this show on the road and get you on the mend.”

Peter blanched and looked to Mr. Stark with sheer terror on his face. Being unconscious and having surgery was easy, this was a whole other kettle of fish. “Um...” He struggled to not panic. “Mr. Stark?” His breathing started to pick up.

Both the nurse and Mr. Stark picked up on the cues right away. Mr. Stark grabbed the boy’s good hand in support and gave the nurse a quick look. She backed out of the room without another word and closed the door behind her.

“Hey, hey, kiddo. You’re okay,” Mr. Stark soothed. “Why don’t you take a deep breath me, yeah?” He pulled in an exaggerated breath. “In...” and then blew it out with just as much effort. “... and out.”

Peter tried, then flinched, grunted, and then shifted to try and relieve the pain that flared in his ribs even as his anxiety ramped up and he struggled to catch his breath.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, sweetheart. Sorry!” His hands fluttered around Peter, trying to find something to fix. Mr. Stark looked to be on the edge of his own panic attack but Peter could do nothing. Then Mr. Stark lit up as he apparently came up with another idea. “Okay, kid, this is gonna seem weird, but let’s keep those breaths quick and short, okay?” And then the man was demonstrating, “He-he-he-he-hooo. He-he-he-he-hooo.” Mr. Stark squeezed Peter’s hand in assurance.

Peter tried to emulate him, and after a couple of minutes of lost rhythms and wiped away tears, Peter was calm enough that he felt safe speaking again, “Sorry, Mr. Stark, I...” He dried he cheeks again, “I don’t know where that came from. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had to have something fixed and all... I just...”

Mr. Stark smiled down fondly at the boy, “Maybe not, but you’re far from home and your hot aunt isn’t down the hall waiting to chew you out for doing something stupid enough to require surgery—and honestly, we’ve had a pretty shitty week, if you don’t mind my saying. I mean, I’ll be forever grateful that you’re back,” and Mr. Stark leaned over to plant a big ol’ kiss on Peter’s forehead as he said it, “but we fought a literal battle over my demolished compound, you were gone for five years, you were hurt, your powers are out of whack, you are currently situated on a different continent altogether, and the world doesn’t seem to remember that we deserve a little down time after battling for the fate of half a universe.” He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. “We’re allowed to be stressed, and if it comes out in a pre-surgery freak-out, then so be it.”

Peter chuckled, being mindful of his ribs. “Yeah, I guess. And—um, thanks, by the way for the, uh... the breathing thing.” He was confused though, “Can I ask a dumb question? Was that a breathing exercise for women in labor?”

A blush tinged Mr. Stark’s cheeks and he rubbed at the back of his neck in apparent discomfort. “Yeah, Pete, it is, but it worked so no teasin’ the old man about it, got it?!” He pointed a finger at the boy in the bed. “You were hurting and I couldn’t think of anything to help with the broken ribs and all. Short breaths made sense and it just came to me.” He laughed low to himself, “I think it was pretty ingenious, if you ask me.”

Peter blushed, himself. “I guess it was. I’m curious to know how you’d know—“

A knock on the door interrupted his question. “Hello?” Dr. Cho opened the door and peeked her head into the room. “I’m sorry for intruding, but we’ve only got the surgical suite and staff for an allotted period of time and...“ She trailed off.

Mr. Stark looked at Peter, cocking an eyebrow in question.

Peter hesitated, then nodded ‘yes.’

Mr. Stark smiled at him then gave his still gripped hand another assuring squeeze. “He’s good to go, Helen.” He finally looked towards the doctor. “But you’ve got to hurry this up. The kid has a date with the #5—extra pickles and squished really flat, and we’d like to get that to him before someone in the kitchen realizes we’re hiding the best sandwich in Queens and absconds with it.” 

Peter snort-laughed then closed his eyes to the nurse as she re-entered the room to do her prep. He didn’t want to be rude, he just couldn’t...

Ah, shit! He knew it was coming before it hit, and then—

She waited patiently for him as the pain zinged up his spine, causing him to arch off the bed and whimper as he waited for the episode to pass. She simply stepped away from the bed so Mr. Stark could come close enough to whisper words of encouragement.

“You’ve got this, kid.”

“It’s gonna pass.”

“I’m so, so sorry...”

This episode lasted only a few minutes, but it left Peter exhausted, like always. After taking a second to pull himself together, he gave the nurse the go ahead with a nod and closed his eyes again—trying to ignore the sounds of movement and the poking and prodding at his foot.

“A little pinch.” The nurse whispered, and then there was more than a little pinch, but the second line was in. “Good job.” On what, he didn’t know, but it was done and Peter worked to keep himself from jumping off the table.

Dr. Cho came to his bedside again, “Well, Peter, I’m hoping that we can get everything sorted this last time and give your transformation a chance to finish the job without having to worry about all of this extra work.” She winked playfully at him. “And then I can start doing my regular job of putting you back together with all of the standard superhero stuff. Does that sound like a plan to you?”

He understood that she was trying to put him at ease, and it would have worked, but something was niggling at the back of his brain and he couldn’t understand what was going on. He ignored it. “Sure. Let’s do this,” he replied.

Giving a nod to the nurse on his opposite side, Dr. Cho released the break on his bed and they started moving him toward the door.

“Wait!” Peter shouted in renewed panic. “Mr. Stark?!”

He popped back into view, having kept out of the way as he was sorted. “I’m here, baby. You’re safe.” He bumped the nurse out of the way and took her place as they moved down the hallway.

He tried to look brave, but—“Could you...?”

Mr. Stark didn’t look to anyone for permission. He just answered. “I’ll go with you as far as I can, okay?”

Peter could have cried from relief, but remained strong as he nodded. “Okay. Yeah, okay.” He blinked away the moisture in his eyes and exhaled, “Uh, thanks.”

Mr. Stark ruffled his hair. “You never have to thank me, sweetheart. Do you understand?”

Peter smiled, tentative, “I guess?”

Mr. Stark huffed in frustration. “You guess? We’ll need to have a chat over that sandwich later, okay?”

By this point, they’d managed to find their way to the surgical suite. They parked the bed and Dr. Cho disappeared inside the room for a second.

Peter was about to ask if maybe she’d changed her mind about everything when she popped back out and tossed a surgical cap, mask, and gown at Mr. Stark. “Put that on, and then touch nothing, but Peter once we’re in. If you behave, you can stay with him until he’s asleep, okay?”

Mr. Stark nodded and immediately put on the gown while Dr. Cho entered the room again. He hesitated with the cap though. “No one appreciates the effort I make to look this good,” he complained. “Seriously.” He shook his head and looked down at Peter as he placed the mask on his face. “The things I do for you, kid.”  

Peter grinned at that, and for a moment he could imagine they were back in the lab at the compound and it was just the two of them being idiots while blowing crap up. “You do it because you love me,” he teased.

If they’d been back at the lab, Mr. Stark would have made a crack about doing this to keep Peter from turning to the dark side, or from working for the competition, or anything other than what he’d really said—“Yeah, kid. I really do.”

And THAT was the moment Peter realized that something had shifted in the five years. He’d heard the ‘sweetheart’ and maybe even the ‘baby’ but...

Another nurse came out of the room to address them. “Okay, we’re going in now. Once we enter the room, we’ll transfer you to a different gurney and tuck this bed away for you to use later. The room is sterile and will remain that way if everyone does what they’re supposed to do.” The nurse looked directly at Mr. Stark. “I am to remind you, sir, that you can ask Princess Shuri about the tech and sterilization methods later and that—and this is a quote from Dr. Cho—“you’d better be good, Tony, or you will be out on your ass faster than you can say ‘nanoparticle.’”

Mr. Stark barked a laugh at that and raised his right hand. “I promise I will be a good boy.”

The nurse seemed to believe him so they worked together to pull the bed through the doors and into the chill of the surgical suite. Peter would have been impressed if he wasn’t suddenly terrified.

Peter couldn’t suppress the shiver as he felt the cold press in on him and he thought again about running away—somewhere warm and vibrant and Mr. Stark could come and then—he was being transferred to a metal table, just as cold as the room.

Mr. Stark came into view again, and was again running fingers through his hair in comfort. His heart was in his throat and he couldn’t speak.

“You’ll feel a little chill here, Peter,” Dr. Cho was talking to him as someone off to the side started injecting an anaesthetic into the IV line.  

He felt it as it entered his system, the mix of standard and enhanced drugs because his body didn’t know what the heck it was doing anymore, and then whatever bits of Spider-Man that were fighting to come through did exactly that. Even as his thoughts tried to soften, he battled and ached to come back from the nothingness that was trying to catch hold of him again. His eyes flew open. He couldn’t go again! His drug weakened limbs felt weighted but still fought against gentle hands pressing him to the table, yet he tensed with anticipation of them flaking and floating off into the aether—“NO!” He couldn’t do it again, and his panic flared one last time as the anaesthetist gave one last push. “stop—“ he slurred. “don’—wanna go, ms’r star—“ Tears streamed down his temples and he finally gave up as he whispered, “’m—‘m sorry—“ 

Peter fell limp against the table—

And didn’t see Mr. Stark, as he stood over him, tried to comfort him—wept for him.

Peter also didn’t see the glare on Mr. Stark’s tear stained face as he looked at a paled Dr. Cho. “You get in. You fix it. You get out. Got it?”

Peter didn’t see her nod in agreement and start barking out orders to the medical staff in the room.

And Peter didn’t see Mr. Stark lean over to kiss his forehead and then step back into a quiet corner, deciding to not leave the boy’s side unless they dragged him forcibly from the room.

[moonbelt]

»the moon, the sun

↳ ex-best-friends to lovers au | college athletes au

pairing » jeon jungkook | reader

genre » big angst + fluff + sexual themes

word count » 11.770

» there’s not a single thing you like about jungkook. no. not his jokes or his thinly veiled overwatch obsession or his supreme swimmers body. absolutely nothing. there is, however, a multitude of things you hate. wait, sorry that was rude, vehemently despise is better. 

 » mutual pining that could've been resolved if either of them exercised some basic communication skills lol, mild coarse language, lots of angst, cocky jjk but also crack jjk??, gamer memes, poufy haired jjk, also supposed hate-love relationship. 

YOU ARRIVE AT THE SWIM CENTER WITH A THROB in your knee and a resounding ache in your head. It felt like your brain was about to explode into a thousand gory pieces as you pushed open the wide frost-tinted glass double doors that led to the locker rooms.

Now that would have been a great start to a low-budget horror flick. You could just picture it, a lonesome girl? No… Woman? At twenty, you weren’t sure if you still qualified as a girl but the term woman felt too formal, too stifling, too mature to be attributed to you. But whatever, that was semantics you could spare for another day.

So, there you’d be; creeping into a university swim center at the ass-crack of dawn and then bam! Your brain impedes on itself. Maybe it’s because of some mutant phenomenal viral disease, maybe it’s repercussions from tempering with a portal to the paranormal realm that only exists in semi-open pool arenas. Whatever it was, it would have to be epic and a far cry from the truth. Which was, you were used to indescribable, continuous pain. It came with the territory of being an athlete. If you didn’t wake up in the morning with some part of your body feeling uncomfortably off then that just meant you didn’t try as hard the day before. Or at the very least, that’s what you told yourself to keep going.

Yawning, you punched in your locker code and began the mental and physical process of getting ready for the next three hours of practice before break. You usually where the first one in the building and the last one to leave if you didn’t have classes or work.

Swimming made you feel good, made you feel like there was something special about yourself. It didn’t help that the more you practiced, the more you were able to outpace everyone else. Practice birthed results and your stubbornness, wait no, competitiveness was off the charts. So, of course, you wanted to dominate every single athlete in your division.

Still though, waking up at four in the morning had to be the singular dumbest thought you’d ever conceived.

Once you were suited up, you padded back into the arena that held the huge industrial sized swim pool. The overpowering smell of chlorine and humid air made you feel more at home than the dormitory you’d just left less than thirty minutes ago. You honestly might’ve started crying right then and there at the sight of the crystal clear water and the humongous life-sized painting of an unknown swimmer in the midst of a beautiful breaststroke at the center of it all.

Today was after all the first day of the semester. Your collegiate swimming career was finally back on. Your lips twinged at the sight of the polished, tiled floor and how it felt cool under the soles of your feet.

You’d gone back home for winter break and although you’d kept up with the training regime your coach had persistently emailed out, there was just something fundamentally different about being back on your own turf. In fact, you were fairly sure a few tears slipped past your barriers and hooked at the corners of your eyes at the thought. Only to be blasted into near oblivion by the sound of a phone camera going snap snap.

You whipped your head to the direction of the camera like a person possessed. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, My Zelda. This is glorious.” The goddamn stalker, wait he wasn’t a stalker if he was a member of the swim team. Right, the goddamn fiend had the guts and audacity to say with an open-mouthed grin marring his face. “You’re actually crying. There are literally tears in your eyes. I can see ‘em.”

“Screw off, Jeon.”

Him. The only other person dumb enough to be at the swimming center at five am. A full hour before the scheduled practice time. God, how long had he been watching you? And to think he even had time to whip out his phone and document this moment. You were never gonna live it down, that was for sure. You? Crying? Over – you took a grand look around your surroundings – water?

“It was only three weeks, you know. You wouldn’t die if you didn’t swim for a month or two.” He still found the whole scenario funny, if the laughter in his voice was any indication.

“Coming from someone that I doubt showers even once every three days? Yeah, I’ll pass on that lecture.”

“Ooh, a solid burn from the Ice Queen,” he clutched a hand to his chest like he’d been shot with a bazooka or something. Dramatic. “That one hurts my ego immensely.”

You snorted. It was debatable if anything could seriously damage Jeon Jungkook’s ego. That shit was built with solid uranium. No matter how you tried to smash it. He was his own number one supporter and he’d built himself up in his head that he was the greatest at whatever he laid his hands on. At that moment, however, you wanted to snatch the iPhone out of those deft hands of his and dig a well through his head with it. Couldn’t he go be great somewhere else?

Instead of replying and subsequently dragging out this conversation longer than necessary, you busied yourself with adjusting your swim cap and bringing your goggles to rest on the bridge of your nose.

It didn’t matter that Jungkook was here. It didn’t bother you one bit. It’s not like it was abnormal. You’d known him longer than you’d known anybody so of course you were used to his presence. Although you didn’t particularly like the fact that you’d known him almost your whole life. Or the fact that your body prickled with awareness every time he stepped into the nearest vicinity. You couldn’t control that. What you could control though, was how you felt about it.

And right now, you hated him. Wait, no hate was too strong a word, perhaps vehemently despise was more fitting.

You make your way to lane five, take a deep breath to calm your nerves and then dunk yourself into the ice cold water. Better to get it over with than squirm around the edges with him around. For Zelda’s sake, he has his phone camera on standby!

Yeah okay, you didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook; the son of a family friend that lived on the other side of the cul de sac. Instead, you vehemently despised the boy that was a walking, talking human critic. You bite your lip ferociously in a bid to punish the thought of Jungkook out of your mind. After a second or maybe three, you push into the water.

“Your shoulders look tense from up here... you’re so not gonna perform well if you don’t stretch that baby out.”

That’s the first thing you hear other than the rushing of water leaving your ears as your face breaks out against the surface of the pool. You jerk your goggles off your eyes, look up and scowl at him. Mr. I-Should-Basically-Be-A-Coach-With-All-These-Pointers-I-Give.

“I am not tense.”

“Yeah, no. You don’t have to lie about that. I could legit see your muscles almost cramping up down there.”

“Are you really going to stand up there and pretend we have some kind of mentor-mentee relationship going on? Seriously? It’s five in the morning, Jeon.”

You could clearly see the wheels in his head turning and then zeroing in on the one word you shouldn’t have said. Relationship. Gah, you need a chastity belt for your lips. His eyes basically sparkle with rays of mischief and a dash of mastered superiority. “Well, I am seven months older, so when you think about it that way it’s only natural that I take you under my wing and —”

“I swear to you, I will physically break your knee caps —”

“Wait,” he looks genuinely confused, perfect lips pouting. “What do you mean by physically? Is there any other way to break a knee?”

Ugh! You stare at him and he stares right back, cocking his head to the side like he can do this all day. You want to scream, hell maybe even shapeshift into a fucking banshee and scream the roof off this building.

And then his mouth curves into a roguish smirk. The type he reveals when he manages to squeak by a better time than you or like that one time (okay maybe five?) that he got randomly stopped by some modeling agency recruiter when your parents had forced the two of you to carpool to swim meets back when you were a tad younger and he was the only one with a car. The smirk that just screams ‘I’m getting under your skin, aren’t I? And dude, it feels fan-fucking-tastic.’

“Get a life, Jeon. Or better yet, get in the water. It’s only been three weeks, no way you suck even worse than usual after that. I mean, by fuck, it hasn’t even been a month!” You twist his words back at him and then feel proud about it. So what, you are competitive and you hold grudges. There could be worse things.

His smirk deepened and okay, you won’t lie to yourself. He is attractive. Critically so. It would be hard not to notice that. It’s a continual and conscious effort to even attempt to un-notice it. But still, moments like these when the fluorescent lights beamed on his face at just the right angle and the shadows cut across his features and illuminated his golden skin to the heavens, boosting his overall aura like he was some sort of reincarnated god of beauty. Or worse, a Final Boss that you had to most certainly defeat. It became increasingly hard not to notice how much he affected you and your breathing.

Yeah, it’s in these moments that your better judgement faults and for a split second you are transported to that one November night in the middle of eleventh grade when fuck no! Absolutely not! You refuse to walk that horrendous trip down memory lane and relive one of the most humiliating, and this is coming from a girl that threw up because of nerves in front of judges at a talent show, experiences of your life. This was not the time.

“Your shoulders are still stiff as a board. Tell me, child, have you gotten laid recently?”

You let out the most frustrated sound of agony you could muster. You’re going to murder him. Forget you being the star in some crazy horror film, you were going to be the director. And you were gonna serve up a mean case of Deck Jungkook’s Ass With Supernatural Intervention as the main course. Maybe you’d win an Oscar for it. Heck, maybe you’d get a home run and even win Best Picture.

He chuckles like he’s cracked the greatest joke since Netflix Original Films. You’re too busy orchestrating a slugfest in your head to really pay attention. “I’ll take that as a negative.”

You barely manage to spit out a dignified response. “One of these days I’m going to seriously maim you.”

“Tsk tsk, you and your threatening bodily harm tendencies. I wonder if that’s like a kink thing?” He asks as he taps his chin with his forefinger and squats down to a level that is closer to you. His dark brown hair that looks almost a shade of black sways like a river to his beat. This is much better, it hurt your neck staring up at him like he was some guardian deity.

But the action happens to highlight the ridiculous tightening of his abs. The abs you’ve painstakingly not ogled at because they are sculpted beauties. Hell, you’ve yet to meet a swimmer's body that isn’t the epitome of fitness but Jungkook’s is different. He is carved. Probably why you don’t like looking at it, stare too much and he might notice and of course, you wouldn’t want that happening.

“Jeon?”

“Hmm?” He sounds so innocent. The liar.

“Shut up before I drown you. I don’t care how long you can hold your breath. I will send you down to hell personally.”

He wiggled his eyebrows like the concept of hell was all he’d ever wanted to discuss in life. “Does that mean you’d be coming with? Fascinating. Let’s make a road trip out of it. Maybe you’ll even find some demons down to fuck all that tension out of your body. You know, DDTF. Get your exophilia on, if that’s your thing.”

Exo-what?

Beat. He’s beaten you at your own game. How the heck are you supposed to reply something snarky when all he ever does is blow the thing to epic proportions and have you running in circles. This is why the best strategy was just to simply ignore him.

You shoot him one last look that you hope is as menacing as it ought to be. You yank your goggles from resting on your forehead and dunk them in the water to get the fog out. Placing it back gingerly across your eyes, you let take in a soothing breath.

“I am serene. I am calm. There is nothing around me in existence that bothers me. I am the pinnacle of collected.” You refrain from adding tense-free.

There’s no way you’re tense after running the three and a half miles between your dorm and the swim center. You repeat the words aloud twice before you actually believe them. And then you tear back into the water. You still have roughly thirty minutes before the rest of the team comes in for practice. You’ll be damned spending all your time talking to the fool with shaggy hair and a crooked smile that made you want to burn something.

The only sound other than the whoosh in your ears and the rapid pumping of your heart as you exert yourself is the uncanny, blistering laughter of Jeon Jungkook. At least someone was enjoying your torment.

You swore at that moment that you were going to deck him someday. Even if it was the last thing you ever did. Maybe not even physically, gah, but you were going to get a time so fast, so unbelievably better that Jungkook would be dumbstruck in awe and lagging to catch up. You grin at the thought.

   By the time practice comes to an end, your knee has migrated from a troublesome ache to a colossal titan. Dragging your body out of the water proves to be much a greater task that you previously took for granted. You try and fail to hold back your groans as you attempt to not limp back to the locker rooms and take a shower. Also, you need a painkiller stat.

The coach is too busy being circled by the hyena pack that is freshmen to really pay any attention to you. However, you know better than to think you’ve slipped past his radar. He’s definitely going to catch you sometime later to rim your ass for going too hard the first day of the semester. You guess that makes him a great coach in the grand scheme of things but you’d rather he let you be.

“Your knee acting up again?” Your lane buddy and a veteran senior in the program, Seokjin asks as he saddles up next to you and rips the navy blue swim cap off his head. You fear a little bit for his hair. “I thought doc cleared it?”

You sigh, not really wanting to remember last year when the university-affiliated doctor told you that you needed to take three months off swimming to heal and you’d barely lasted two weeks without going insane. You shiver at the horror of it all as you wrap your Legend of Zelda limited edition Link towel around your dripping body.

“Yeah, he did.” You send him a smile that comes off like a wince and then you give up on trying to downplay the pain altogether. “Guess it’s just not doing so hot today.”

Seokjin nods solemnly like he understands. “Some days are worse than others. I get that.”

“It be like that. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you think you’d be set for March though? Coach’s probably going to start analyzing his final picks for the comp.”

Ugh, Goddess of the Sea take me now! The National Collegiate Swim Competition is an annual event held every March and even though you’d made the cut as a naïve freshman, a knee injury caused you to be sidelined in your second year. But now though, you have to get on the final lineup. An absolute must.

Your cold heart won’t take it to be on the stands watching your teammates accomplish something you dreamed of. Something you’d worked and sacrificed so much for. You won’t stand to watch Jungkook rub it in your face how he’d come in a mere 0.6 seconds away from the first position. And you definitely won’t stand to have another year put on hold when your dream is literally right in front of you.

You bite out a laugh that sounds foreign even to your own ears. God, your knee is killing you. “You know what they say about pain.”

Seokjin gives you a quizzical look. Like he, in fact, has no idea what you mean. And you’re about to launch into a tirade about exercise mottos when you feel a tall presence step up behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. Of course, it’s him. Who else would encroach in on your personal space without a second thought?

“She means she’s gonna push through her limping and her tense as fuck shoulders and pull a win out of her ass. Don’t you,” the way he says your name is so patronizing, so unbelievably condescending that you whip your head up to glare at him.

“That’s impossible. If anyone knows how to take care of their body and not push their limits to insanity it’s Y/N.” Seokjin appears appalled that Jungkook would even think of such a thing. But Jungkook knows you better than anyone, albeit hatefully.

“Mm-hm. You doubt how crazy obsessed she is with winning.”

“Says you,” you spit out but it lacks your usual snark.

In truth, maybe Jungkook was right about your shoulders not being as stretched out as they should’ve been. They feel sore and they almost gave out on you during a lap. You were basically running on guts and mental fortitude for the last four laps. But you’d rather swallow butcher knives than admit that aloud for his ears to hear.

Seokjin is oblivious to the simmering tension between the two of you. Instead, he turns to you with so much concern sweeping through his posture it makes you uncomfortable and yet happy at the same time. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. There’s no point in winning if your body crashes on you, yeah?”

You know he means well and it’s not like you like lying to your senior but you know he just won’t get where you’re coming from. “Yeah,” you stare down at the suddenly interesting aqua-tiled floor.

He pats your shoulder once before he turns down the other way to the male locker rooms leaving you and Jungkook alone. You’re about to go on your own merry way — agonizingly slow of course, when a hand latches to your upper arm and stops you.

You swear you shouldn’t feel anything but your skin almost scorches at the contact. Your brain is divided: a part of you wants him to never let go, while the other half can’t get away from him fast enough. You don’t breathe, heck you don’t even move.

“Winning isn’t everything.”

You don’t mean to — truly, you don’t — but a scoff slips out of your lips before you even register it. “Coming from the golden boy that basically has a clear shot at making the lineup? Yeah, I won’t drink to that anytime soon.”

Jungkook uses his free hand to run through his hair like a maniac. And you entertain the idea that perhaps you really do get under his skin as much as he does you. The thought elates you and dilutes the throbbing in your knee to a lesser degree. He’s your biggest tormentor and you can only dream to be the same thing for him. Equivalent exchange and all that jazz.

He clicks his tongue at you and somehow that infuriates you even more. “You know what? Do whatever you want. Ruin your body for all I care.” He lets go of your arm like it’d be painful to hold it any longer. He pulls at the towel he has around his shoulders so hard that even you feel the burn and then he drapes it over his head, effectively blocking you out.

A forgotten part of you wonders why he’s so concerned about your body anyway. It’s not like he should care at all.

The two of you aren’t friends. Once upon a time that wasn’t the case but you aren’t one to cry over spilled milk much less bemoan over it. But it still rubs you some kind of way that Jungkook thinks it’s normal to voice his concern to you. The two of you are not close like that. At least, not anymore.

You scowl to yourself as you weave your way back to the locker room. You’re not much of a talker but you wave back at a few of the girls that bother to look your way. And spend a good ten minutes talking to a freshman about how she needs to stop holding her breath for long periods because all that does is make you dizzy and liable to pass out. After all that, it’s no wonder that you’re the last one out of the showers.

Tugging your baby blue beanie tight across your forehead, you curse yourself for forgetting to pack your knee brace when you left your dorm this morning. But whatever, you’ll push through it. You always do.

What you’re not expecting is to see a lithe body resting on the bench right outside the swim center.  And it strikes you as odd that you immediately know in your gut that it’s Jungkook. Even though you’re too chicken now to admit it, there was a time when you’d engraved his whole body into your mind like he was a science project you were desperately in need of completing. Although his body has since gained more muscle mass and reduced way more body fat, it’s still him. No matter how hard you try to burn him out of your memory, he never leaves. You fear your only remedy might be self-induced amnesia.

What you’re not expecting is for that body clad snugly in black sweatpants, a really oversized navy sweatshirt that has ‘I AM NOT GONNA BE MERCY’ branded in fine print across his chest, and a beanie that suspiciously matches the one on your own head, to turn up and catch your gaze like he knows you’ve been staring.

You blink once and then twice and then once more just to be sure. Weird. You have no idea why he’s waiting out here and you’re even more confused as to why he owns a beanie that looks way too much like yours to be a coincidence. You shift your gaze to the sidewalk, debating if it’s worth it to strike a conversation with him. All it will do is leave you irritated, so you decide to continue to your dorm instead. Screw him and whatever he’s out in this cold as shit weather for.

“What? You’re just gonna ignore me now?”

Huffing, you pretend he’s not matching his strides to your sluggish pace.

“This is cold, even for you.”

Maybe if you keep quiet he’ll think you’ve gone magically inept in the span of forty minutes?

“You know I thought I was doing a good thing by waiting for you.”

That gets you to break your mental battle. “I didn’t ask you to do that, Jeon.”

“I know that. But what if you slid across the pavement and went straight to the dimension of hell? I have to be there for that.” He sounds genuinely invested in the matter at hand.

“I can still walk perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You almost smack your head dead against the stoned ground when your foot snags a loose edge of the sidewalk. Fuck.

“Pfft.” He’s barely holding in his laughter but you don’t cower. Har-dee-har-har. You don’t need him breathing down your neck thinking he’s doing you a favor or anything.

You don’t need pity parties hosted by Jeon Jungkook. Not again. Not after that one night that you thought was perfect and monumental when in reality all it really was a blip in his radar. You’re nothing special, or at least Jungkook thought so. It’s been years since then but that’s the funny thing about pain. It doesn’t just die down because you refuse to think about it. It simmers, it boils, it festers. Pain is a living, breathing monster and simply because you don’t devote time to it doesn’t mean it’s not taking up space under your bed.

But you are not going to think about it. Because you are definitely over it. Yep. That was it. You are over your ex-best friend and you are happy... Bah, what-fucking-ever.

Maybe he realizes that you’re not in the mood for the snark he would normally throw your way because the walk back to your dorm is relatively quiet after that. This is the most civil the two of you have been in a long while. Most of times the both of you are too busy making jabs at each other. But you’d noticed that ever since your accident last year that busted your knee, he’s been different.

You’ve yet to decide if that difference is for good or bad but it doesn’t matter because you’re back at your dormitory which means you get to sleep the rest of the day before work. Yes, maybe there is a God.

“Look, take care of yourself, okay?”

You stop on the stone steps to take him in. His hands stuffed deep in his pockets, the January chill making the tip of his nose bright red but his eyes don’t hold the same mischievous fight as before. He’s determined. You know him well enough to know that.

��I’m not going to die climbing up some stupid stairs.”

He shakes his head. Guess he’s not up for jokes then. “I mean it,” he breathes your name out with so much seriousness it stuns you. “You can be cruel to me. You can be angry at me. But don’t take it out on your body. Just... don’t.”

What does he know about cruelty? He knows not jack shit about cruelty. Cruelty was a seventeen-year-old girl waxing poetic love to a boy that she thought hung the moon, the stars and the sun only for him to trample over it just because. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the timing, maybe it was every fucking thing in between but that night had been a changing point. Horror movies weren’t half as scary as being rejected by your best friend since before you were five and not know why. Cruelty was not whatever this limbo you and Jungkook had. You’d experienced cruelty and that was far worse.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not then and certainly not now.”

Pushing your body to its limits is something you have to do. Getting better at swimming is something you would die trying to attain. Not because you particularly love swimming all that much but rather because it’s the one thing, the only thing that you really do believe you can beat Jungkook in. The only thing you can compete with him and with hard work win. You have to win. You can’t stand being second place next to him. It makes you want to gag. It makes you revert back to that seventeen-year-old girl you thought you’d killed off in your origin story.

Pathetic, you think to yourself. But you won’t stop because you’ve already come so far.

You rush up the stairs and into the dorm like lightning. You’re so quick that you don’t even feel any twinge of pain ricocheting from your knee or anywhere else to be honest. You’re a running painkiller. You haul ass all the way to your room and it’s only when you’ve locked the door and released the longest sigh of your whole adult life that it hits you.

And here’s another thing about pain: it always comes rushing back.

If it’s even possible, over the next few weeks your knee becomes even worse of a problem. Waking up in the morning becomes more of a drag than usual, you can barely walk to your classes much less the swim center without your brace on and then perform a Mission Impossible skit so that the rest of the team doesn’t see the brace dangling in your locker. You’re seriously considering ripping the whole joint out. For Zelda’s sake, it has to hurt significantly less, right?

To make matters worse you’re basically lying out of your ass to Seokjin and the rest of the team that your knee is not bothering you one bit. You’re such a liar, someone needs to lock you up for it. But it’s already the end of February and you can already taste the end of it all. All you need to do is hold on by the skin of your teeth for the next couple of days and then you’ll be free. Sure, rationally you know you’re not swimming your best right now but that does nothing to deter you from what you’ve set your mind on.

“Hey, Y/N,” the voice of the Student Assistant, Namjoon stops you in your attempt to blend in with the other swim members exiting the building after a rather rough day. “You came in later than usual today. Something up?”

Namjoon is an amazing guy. Attentive but not too overbearing. A great listener but he doesn’t go overboard with trying to get you to confess your deep, darkest fears to him. But even with knowing all of this, you still don’t want to tell him a thing. You know he’ll understand, that’s not the problem. The problem is, he would seriously blow it out of proportion. All you want to do is head home, nap for a good hour or three and then head to your afternoon class and get back to crashing. Was that too much to ask?

“Yeah, I’m great. Just a little tired.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, flipping through the sheet on his clipboard. “Hmm, your times been dropping since last week. You sure everything’s fine?”

Fuck. You fumble thinking of an answer, your eyes skittering around the tiled floor till you look up and lock on Jungkook staring right back. He’s a few feet away near the front door discussing with one of the assistant coaches but for some reason, his big, brown eyes are glued to your frame. An inane section of your brain wants to beg him to come over and rescue you from lying so horribly to Namjoon. While another insane part of you wants to sneer at him and tell him to stop freaking looking at you when you’re at your worst.

“I... uh,” you stutter and return your attention back to the kind senior in front of you. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at you, disbelieving. “Is it your knee? We could get the team doctor — ”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you stumble away from him, your thoughts passing the point of loudness and encroaching into deafness. No way. There’s no way you’re going to let him bring up your injury and then take it up with the other coaches because you know — deep in your bones — that if he does that you won’t make the cut for the lineup talk less of being able to just attend practice. You’d be kept on the side like an invalid.

Hate.

You hate it. Your stupid knee, the stupid way you were running late to practice almost a full year ago and then proceeded to fall down a flight of stairs and dislocate your knee so bad that when the seasons shift from sunny to cloudy, your knee throbs like an ingrained weather alert.

You hate how much the pain makes you want to cry. You hate yourself for pushing yourself, even more, when you know you shouldn’t. You hate how everyone is so damn concerned about you like you somehow deserve it. You hate that you don’t deserve their kindness, not when every other athlete next to you is getting better and better by the second and you don’t want to be left behind.

“Bro, she’ll be fine.” You don’t realize your savior and yet tormentor has weaseled his way into the conversation until you you hear the soft timbre of his voice. He stands so close to you that you smell the sweet scent of vanilla from his clothes. “I mean, look at her. Her technique is still kicking ass, no one can touch her when it comes to form.”

Lips wobbling a little under the pressure of your teeth, you peer up at him. Your mind running a mile a minute trying to place what his endgame is. Why is he here? What does he think he’s doing?

Namjoon laughs, his features becoming even more stunning with the action and you glance away from Jungkook. There’s no way he bought that blatant form of flattery. “That is true. Y/N has the best technique in the program right now. Probably best in the state.”

Lies. You know there’s talk about some super senior at a neighboring powerhouse school being the best in your division. But your mind is clogged up with your loud thoughts that you don’t say anything to refute his claim.

“Anyways, let me know if you need anything, ‘Kay?” Namjoon demands your attention. “Take it easy and rest up this weekend.”

You nod profusely and Namjoon smiles at the action like your adorable. You frown at that. And then he’s gone and you’re stuck with Jungkook and the thoughts clamoring around in your head.

“I didn’t need you to save me. Or lie for me.”

“Sure,” he says but his eyes say something different. That maybe if you really didn’t want his help you shouldn’t have looked at him like a deer in headlights practically begging the floor to swallow you up. “And I wasn’t lying. You do have a better technique.”

You roll your shoulders, ignoring the praise. “Seriously. I was fine.”

“Fine my ass,” he mutters, pushing past your body and heading outside the door.

“I didn’t need your help and I don’t owe you —” The frigid air whips across your cheeks so hard that you have to stop and close your eyes for a beat. When you peel them back open you find Jungkook looking down at you without something akin to disappointment swimming in his eyes. “What?”

He stares at you for what seems like an eternity. You try not to break away from his gaze but your eyes skittle across his outfit. The beanie on his head that outrageously still looks similar to the one you have on, his grey padded jacket and a similar shade of sweatpants. And by the time your eyes reach back to his face, his focus has diverted to glaring needles at your knee.

“What?” You repeat, this time though you’re whispering like you might not like what he will say next.

“I don’t get it. You of all people know how horrible last year was. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to relive your sophomore year. “Why do you care?”

“Why?” Jungkook practically stutters at the question, his already big doe eyes transforming into the size of craters. “Are you trying to prove something? To who? Me?”

“I don’t care about you, Jeon. And I don’t need to prove any single thing to you. You’re dead to me.”

“You think that by carrying this invisible burden and pushing yourself to the point of borderline insanity you’re going to get better? That you won’t burnout? That somehow you’re going to get back at me? After you’ve ruined your knee and not only ruined your chances at swimming competitively ever again but just in general? You think you’d finally feel like you’ve served me a hot plate of revenge?”

There’s no reason for him to be able to see right through you so easily. There’s no reason for him to know how stupid this whole thing is and how really the only one suffering is you. Always you. Only you. Alone.

Jungkook’s face twists into a vision of pain and you’re stunned into silence. It’s like you can tell how much your disregard for your own body is affecting him when it shouldn’t. He’s your self-proclaimed enemy that was once your friend. You shouldn’t feel like you’re hurting him more than yourself.

You don’t even feel the lone tear that slips past your walls and slides down your cheek until he moves closer and uses a smooth thumb to wipe it away. Dammit, you’re better than this.

“Not everything is about you, Jungkook.” But right now it is. For you, it is.

He nods his head once. The pain that was painted on his face morphing into something you can’t discern but his thumb doesn’t lift from your face. Instead, the rest of his fingers cradle the side of your face like they’re protecting you. You inflate at the action. After several seconds, they’re gone.

“I should go,” he states matter-of-factly.

Don’t, you want to say but the words live and die in your throat You know if you start you’d say too much. “Yeah.”

Even though you want him to make up some silly excuse as to why he has to walk you home. Like maybe you’d slip and knock yourself into the netherworld. He does nothing of that sort. He puffs out his cheeks; resembling a bunny, and then he sends you a wary smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

For the first time in ages, you don’t like the sight of his retreating back. For the first time in a long time, you don’t even have the energy to pledge eternal damnation to Jeon Jungkook. All you want to do is ask him why. Why were you not enough? Why did he hand you back your heart when all you wanted was for him to keep it. And why did he suddenly do a one-eighty in college, resorting to snide comments and remarks that make you boil but also instill air into your lungs like you are finally breathing again? Why does it seem like he still cares?

You’re on a mission to drown out everything that has to do with Jeon Jungkook. You don’t like that he has created a rupture in your stratosphere. You don’t like that you’re realizing that you’ve been waging a war but not against Jungkook like you’d originally perceived. Now now that you think about it, when has he really been a rival? You’ve really only been fighting yourself.

The two of you aren’t even in the same category. You don’t even specialize in the same swimming techniques. And now that you’re seriously going through it, has he ever really been conceited about getting better times? All he ever did was point out things you were doing off and even though you hated it, it wasn’t like he was lying.

You’re one step away from your dorm when your phone buzzes with a flurry of text messages. It’s from the swim team group chat for juniors and seniors.

Taehyung: It’s the weekend mi amigos *dancing emoji*

Vivian: whatever you’re thinking... it’s gonna be a no! from me! also i thought u were sick?

Taehyung: aw come on i havent even said anything yet

Taehyung: not! sick! it was just the flu

Seokjin: flu is a sickness, no?

Vivian: im so tired dudes,, im not going out with y’all to get smashed

Nathan: im down

Taehyung: yes!!!!

Taehyung: guys i promise! you’ll love me for it. a friend of a friend is hosting a party on Greek row. Let’s GO!!

Vivian: it’s not like we’re the only friends you have. ask someone else dude

Before you even think about it, you’re typing a response.

You: I’ll come. We don’t have training tmr so...

Taehyung: OMFG

Nathan: i had no idea you were in the chat lol

Vivian: rude. if y/n’s going then maybe she’ll keep Tae’s head on straight

Seokjin: don’t know if JK’s down but I’ll drag him out if I have to.

You: don’t do that.

Taehyung: why? don’t you guys have that whole foreplay thing going on or?????

You: WHAT

Vivian: wait i might come after all

Seokjin: Tae, leave it alone.

Taehyung: okay but it’s not my fault they both barely look at anyone other than themselves during practice. i can’t be the only one that noticed them basically eye-fucking each other all day everyday

Nathan: i second that

Vivian: ... sorry, y/n. but i third that

Seokjin: GUYS. if she leaves the chat because y’all can’t keep your mouth shut istg,,

Nathan: wait is jungkook reading this?

God, how you want the whole universe to open up and swallow you whole. Your phone feels like a hot potato in your hands. You throw the wretched thing into the back of your jeans pocket and blink over and over again as you rush into your dorm and up the elevator.

It takes the rest of the day to calm your cheeks from splitting from humiliation or embarrassment, it’s a close tie. You don’t pay attention in class, you can barely nap without the words blinking at the back of your eyelids like neon target signs.

Foreplay? Foreplay?!

You almost spontaneously combust.

You hear the telltale sound of a key unlocking your dorm room door and you hightail out of the ensuite bathroom before you can even think.

“Foreplay?!” You all but scream at your roommate and fellow swim team member, Vivian.

At the very least she looks sheepish, smiling nervously as she pushes a piece of her coiled hair behind her ear. “I thought you knew. I mean, everyone talks about it.”

“What about me wanting to rip his ass from his hole screams foreplay to anyone?!”

She shrugs, her lilac sweater falling down one brown shoulder. “I don’t know, it’s kinda sexy.” She drops her backpack on the only sofa and turns back to you. “He’s the only one you really talk to in the team so, everyone just kinda assumed y’all were either a has-been or a to-be couple.”

Wheezing, you lock your arms defiantly across your chest. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah, okay.” Vivian laughs, unconvinced for some reason.

“I’m not kidding. He’s annoying. Always breathing down my neck like he’s my personal trainer or something. Any time I do a thing it’s like he has to say something in response, you know. I don’t hate him but I don’t... I don’t like like him.”

“Do you think he’s attractive?”

“Everyone does.”

She smirks at you like she’s caught you dead in a trap. “And you?”

You bite your lip. It’s not worth the hassle to lie. “A little bit. A teeny-tiny bit.”

“What about him do you think is attractive? And don’t mention his thighs because we all know those are in a different league of their own.”

That gets a laugh out of you. Vivian’s mouth widens at the sound. You realize then that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been hoarding things in for too long. And you appreciate Vivian because she’s always been nice and has tolerated your one-worded answers and four am showers like a champ. You want to give her an award or something.

You lean against the wall and think about her question. “Well, in a way his nagging and pushing my buttons can be seen as being attentive? I mean, he notices things about me that I don’t. And I’ve been… thinking that maybe he’s not really all that bad like I conjured up in my head.” More than that, before everything turned to shit, you thought he was the kindest, funniest person in the galaxy.

“Well, I’m no team Jungkook,” she snickers at her own Twilight reference and your lips tilt up as well. “And I won’t pretend to know what’s gone on between you and him. But whatever it is, maybe y’all just need to, like, talk it out.”

“I—”

Vivian shushes you. “You know I’m right.” She sashays to her room door and then turns back to you. “We’re going to go to Taehyung’s friend of a friend’s frat party and you’re gonna get the liquid courage to talk to him. I think everyone on the team would appreciate the whole sexual tension going on between the two of you finally being exiled into the cosmos.”

Cosmos?

You’re not really sure what happens after that. You let Vivian convince you to trade your comfortable sweatpants for an A-line skirt, tights and a stylish sweater that you’d bought on a whim. At least if you’re going to really say screw all and go for this party, you refuse to be a shivering mess.

Even though Greek Row is truly not that far from your dorm, you let Vivian drive the two of you over. She talks about everything and anything and it feels like it’s been forever since you hung out with anyone that wasn’t during scheduled practice and workout sessions.

Hell, what have you been doing for the last four years? Being obsessed with results that apparently your arch-nemesis doesn’t even care about?

Vivian tells you about the dude she’s dating and how he’s on the university’s volleyball team. You’re more surprised than you should be. You can’t believe you’ve been roommates with her for almost two years and you barely know anything about her other than surface-level shit. Oh, Zelda, this is one big bitch of an awakening.

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely as she puts the car in park aways from the actual fraternity building. The entire street is blocked up with cars so it was hard to find any space. “For being here and yet not really at the same time.”

Thankfully, Vivian doesn’t make you sweat. “S’cool. Everyone’s got their own shit.”

“I’ve been really shitty lately.”

“Hmm, well, we can get drunk off our asses and feel really shitty together?” You decide then and there that she is amazing and only the devil will be able to pry this budding friendship out of your cold hands.

You find out that Vivian is very skilled at mixing drinks. It takes barely half an hour for you to start feeling a buzz and by your third round of whatever she stirs for you, you’ve straight up arrived at the land of Drunkenville: population; one. You’re busy debating with her and her boyfriend about how sports anime is simply the best branch of cinema to have ever been created and the one sub-genre that truly speaks about the resilience of the human spirit when you feel a heavy arm wrap around your shoulders.

“Y/N,” the voice all but screams in your ear. You hazily look up to see Taehyung’s chiseled face smiling down at you. And even your intoxicated self can tell that he’s pregamed the fuck out of this night already. “I brought lil Jungkookie for you. At first, he was all blah blah not going but when I said you were going to be here. Boi jumped like a fish in water.”

Taehyung laughs and you laugh with him, not really sure if you get the joke but happy nonetheless that he’s happy.

“‘Sup Viv and Viv’s boyfriend,” he salutes them and weirdly enough, Vivian’s boyfriend doesn’t take offense. He salutes back.

Vivian rolls her eyes but then she clasps two strong hands across your shoulders, effectively washing away the tipsy gaze from your eyes for a moment. “Now, listen. You’re going to find Jungkook and let him know how you really feel. Use all this liquid courage and let him have it. And you shouldn’t care that we’re at a party because almost everyone is drunk anyway.

And if that goes to shit and you want out of this place, don’t you dare even think of walking home, okay? You look for me. Don’t think I haven’t seen you limping your way across the dorm like a crazy bitch. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t have the right. But so help me, if you so much as think of walking back I will ... I don’t know what I will do but you won’t like it! So go find Jungkook and do us all a favor and end this eternal foreplay.”

Foreplay... that damned word again. It overrides your brain system and makes you think of things you shouldn’t want. But you’re stupidly confident right now. Hell, your knee hasn’t really been bothering you since you woke up from your nap. The alcohol in your blood is dancing to its own beat and it’s lighting your system on fire.

If not now then when?

You have a gazillion and one questions to ask Jungkook. Questions you’ve kept silenced and bottled down in your heart for years. Questions that keep you up at night. And maybe its because the last month and a half has made you question everything about yourself and your ethic and your predicament, you know you have to do this now.

Fuck it. Who cares if you become the source of this boorish party’s entertainment like a walking cliché? It’s not like you’d remember anything that happens here and you only know a handful of people. Embarrassment? You don’t know her. Not today.

You find him in the basement with a cup of something near his booted feet and his gleaming eyes transfixed on the TV in front of him. His tongue poking a hole in cheek. There’s a small crowd of people around him and you take one glance at the screen and see that he’s playing Super Smash. Of course. He looks beautiful like this. Different than the last time you saw him and better because he doesn’t have that look of agony coloring his eyes.

You could probably spend a whole day just looking at him. Taking in the man that’s grown from the boy you once knew and called your own. His body is a work of art and ought to be chiseled and crafted like the sculptures of the Renaissance era. If you were any good a sculptor, you would’ve done just that. Instead, you commit him to memory. Because even though it is possible that neither of you likes each other anymore, you want to remember this.

He looks perfect like this. Happy. Not distressed and sad like when you’d confessed to him. When you had laid your heart bare before him and he didn’t even react. You wish you could say he had pried your heart out of your hands and ripped it to shreds. But that wasn’t the case. Your heart hadn’t shattered by his blatant rejection. It had melted.  

You watch as his character, Link, of course, K.O’s his opponent and Player 2 Victory flashes on the television screen. He wins. Like always. You don’t feel mad like you usually do. Maybe you’ve finally accepted that there are just some things you can’t win no matter how steadfast and committed you are.

Jungkook looks up from his controller, pumping his fist in the air, his long, dark hair flopping around his face like a curtain. Your veins practically burst with electricity when his smiling eyes notice yours in the corner like you knew they would. The smile dims and you expect that. You’re not asking for a love to cure all epidemics or a lie to burn your body to ash. You just want to move on. To finally escape the purgatory you’ve put yourself in.

“We need to talk,” you try to say as loud as you can but the cheers and conversations of the people around you drown you out.

Somehow in someway, he hears you and nods his head. Maybe he’s a glutton for pain like you. He scoots out of the loveseat, standing to his full height and making pleasant excuses to his newly acquired friends that you don’t know. Maybe it’s the fake courage but you don’t take your gaze away from him. You’re going to do this. You have to — you suck in a huge breath — you must.

Once he steps into your bubble of personal space, the rest of the world fizzles out.

“This is a bundle of firsts, Ice Queen. You? At a party and instigating a conversation with me first? Damn, did you get a taste of hell without me videoing?”

“You always joke about everything,” you decide to bite the bullet. “I used to find that really cute.”

Alcohol o’ alcohol, why hath thou forsaken me? You almost look up to the heavens and question what possessed you to drink so much but then you rehear Vivian’s speech in your head and you find your resolve and strangle it.

Jungkook’s eyebrows fly up like he’s not quite prepared for this. “Wait, what are you... Are you drunk right —”

“I’m not good with words. And I’ve always sucked at speaking my mind and being thoughtful and generally being a good person. Like you,” you smile sadly when you remember the first time you ever made a friend; the boy in front of you that had offered you to come over sometime and play his GameCube with him when his older siblings were too busy to hang with him. “I’m passive at best when it comes to anything that’s not swimming. And even that, you got me into it. You were the reason I started it. You know this, I would’ve rather died than engage in anything that made me exert energy. But you made it fun until I genuinely loved it.”

“That’s not,” Jungkook shakes his head adamantly. “That’s—”

You shoot him a look. “Let me finish okay? I have this whole thing in my head and ... please, just let me say it.”

You hadn’t realized the curious looks the people around had been shooting your way until you see Jungkook scowl at any and every one before he intertwines your hands with his and pulls you out of the basement in a swift motion. You don’t mind the giddy feeling enveloping your chest at the sight of your fingers wrapped around each other. A part of you actually loves how cocooned it makes you feel. You want to bottle this feeling up and bathe in it.

He must be overfamiliar with the frat house because he leads you expertly into a room at the end of the hallway on the first floor. He shuts the door and then locks it. For a minute, he stares at your locked hands and you wonder if he feels the same pull you do. If he’s ever felt the same pull you do.

“When I handed you my heart and my everything, why didn’t you want it? Why did you act like I had committed a grievous crime against you and your glorious self?”

There. You’ve gone and said the thing. The biggest question that has plagued your mind for months and years. If your best friend didn’t even find value in you then really, was there any to begin with?

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh that careens his shoulders down as if he’s carrying the weight of the world. A sigh so deep that it shakes his body from the vibrations visible through his black tee, and crashes into your soul. He closes his eyes for his barely a second but you wish he’d just spit it out. Pour acid on your wounds so you can feel the fire of a thousand suns and finally, fucking finally move on. Baptism by fire they call it but what you want is a goddamn exorcism.

“You thought I shat gold and that I hung the moon and that I was this perfect person when I’m not. I mean, have you listened to yourself? You think you’re a bad person because all you’ve ever done is compare me to you. But it was you and me. Not either or.

You think I really love swimming when you’re not the one egging me on? Pushing me to be better? You think I would’ve let you confess your magnificent love for me and then accept it when every sentence you said contrasted you from me. Pitted you against me? I’m competitive, you’re competitive but I didn’t think you needed competition when it came to that. You’d already won. And then I had this crazy stupid idea that maybe just being friends with you would work. I mean, love isn’t something you need to fight yourself bloody and dead for. Why would I accept this really amazing love from someone that was going to feel less than me and feel like shit for it?”

“So, what were you gonna do? Just wait till I up and decided that I was insecure and didn’t have a major inferiority complex I had no idea about?” Your sober thoughts vomit out of your mouth with impressive speed.

“I was still your friend,” Jungkook almost yells and out of his aggravation, his hands slip out of yours. The loss is staggering. He jabs his index finger into his chest. “I did everything I could do to still be your friend. But you wouldn’t talk to me. And I get that we were sixteen and there were so many ways we could’ve done better but you shut me out.”

“No, I…” You begin to say but the words die in your mouth.

Truth be told, you did shut him out. It wasn’t like you blocked him on every site. But when he tried to talk to you at school, you pretended he wasn’t there. When he stopped over at your place, you told your parents that you were sick and to keep him out. When he sent party invites on the gaming platforms the two of you shared a love for, you ignored them and turned off your console. But it wasn’t like you did all of this out of spite to begin with. It was just easier.

You were hurt. Seeing him brought on multiple feelings of shame, embarrassment, and pain all wrapped snugly like a demonic burrito. And he was your best friend, it wasn’t like you didn’t have other friends you could’ve asked for advice but the one person you wanted to talk to was the one person you couldn’t reach out to. So you didn’t think about it. Instead, you threw yourself headfirst into freezing ass water and worked your butt off with the one thing you had left.

And contrary to what Jungkook believes, he made you feel good about yourself. Like an anchor. You didn’t have to hide your nerdiness between a cold exterior so as to not get teased about it. With him, you were free. Like he was a sun that burned a path that enabled you to breathe easy. To be yourself so that you wouldn’t drown.

“You think I really go around joking with every bum on the swim team about Down To Fuck Demons for hire or that I walk every person with a rubbish knee home in fucking negative degree weather? Or that I worry about everyone that’s throwing their whole future away over a rivalry that doesn’t even exist? You think I’ve been playing the role of a pest around you because I hate you? —”

“Vehemently despise,” you choke on your words but your sense of seriousness causes Jungkook to burst into a staccato of quick muted laughter.

“Y/N,” he whispers your name like it’s a thing of beauty. And maybe it is. Right now you think so. “Firstly, I was dumb and I thought if I left things as they were maybe you’d realize how fucking awesome you were without me. But then all you ever did was practice and practice like you were training for an aquatics mafia or some shit. And then I realized that maybe you’re not the only one that sucks with words and when to say them. I should’ve told you that I did love you. Platonically. Romantically. And you made me feel great and not because you were less than but rather because being with you meant that I was my best self.”

You feel a cascade of water flooding down your cheeks like a waterfall but you don’t release a sound and you don’t really care about it because this moment feels sacred. Because you’re not crying out of pain or agony or longing. Rather it’s because you finally understand.

“You were like the sun and you were so blinding that I thought I would incinerate if I was still next to you like nothing happened.”

“Ha,” Jungkook scoffs, using a palm to run across his face. Then he squints his eyes at you like he’s seeing you anew for the first time. “If I’m the sun then you are —”

“The sun eater.” The words fly out of your mouth with ease. Quoting your fave anime characters was a thing the two of you had done relentlessly for days, heck, years.

Jungkook nods his head, elated that you remember like there was ever a time you’d forget My Hero Academia. “I’m not gonna apologize for not accepting your confession back then. I can’t. Not when I genuinely think neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing back then. Still don’t.”

“And I’m not going to say sorry for pulling away from you. I mean, I’m not a masochist.”

He lets out a throaty laugh that washes your insides clean. And you give a watery smile back, feeling soberer than you did a couple hours ago. You bet you look worse for wear but you don’t care because you’re done not pretending.

“Why did it take four years for me to...” your voice chokes and you almost break down right then and there. But your stubbornness is a thing of pride. “For us to finally talk about it. It would’ve made so much more sense if we had just talked and now I feel like I’ve wasted four years of my life being angry? Feeling discarded? But it’s not like that at all.”

Jungkook’s smooth yet experienced hands cradle the sides of your face and the overflowing tears pool in the flesh that connects his thumbs to your skin. “Friends fight all the time.”

You snort and he grins. “Most friends aren’t half as dumb as us.”

“You got that right. I think dumbness is attractive.” He says with an overflowing aura of achievement. “This just means we’ll just have to spend more time making up for it.” He dips his head down till his lips brush the tip of your ear. “And by the way, I think I’m done being your friend exclusively,” he says.

“Yeah?” You ask and for an inane reason, you smile even harder because the tears on your face feel like rain. And you’re still breathing easier, albeit a tad bit faster. But there’s no crash and burn after you’ve soared too close to the sun. Unlike before your heart feels like it’s glowing instead of charring.

“I think I want to take you out on a date.”

Your eyes widen with faux-horror. “Just one?”

“Oh my Zelda, can I at least finish my grand speech?” He rolls his eyes. “As I was saying, it won’t be one date but you know that kinda depends on if you’re still god at Fortnite. I mean, partying up is basically the same as marriage, you know?”

“Kook?”

“Yeah?”

“Your inner nerd is showing.”

Jungkook sputters loudly, the action making his hair swish across his forehead and his hands drop from your face. “Oh, forgive me. I thought you loved my nerdiness.”

“Love,” you correct him. “Present tense.”

His mouth practically breaks even with the floor with how wide he’s gaping. You haven’t sprouted a second head, have you?

You clear your throat, attempting to be blasé about the whole thing. “Well, if we’re really going to pursue this whole dating thing then I have to be honest, right? I think it’s quite sexy how knowledgeable you are about gaming and stuff even though we’re like hardcore athletes.”

“So I’m like an onion? Three dimensional? The more you get to know me, the more you love how I’m not like Other Guys trademark sign?”

You guffaw so hard you almost start crying all over again. “Oh my Zelda, we were having a moment. Why did you ruin our moment?”

“Think I can make up for it.” He looks at you with something akin to competition and licks his lips.

Your eyes falter at the action, zeroing in on them. Suddenly the distance between yours and his feels like a crime against humanity. It’s comical really, how the temperature of your body can fly from ice cold to a blazing inferno in less than minutes.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“As you wish.”

Jungkook bends his lips to connect with yours in a swift motion. You’re surprised but a part of you must have anticipated it because you are pushing deeper into him as quickly as humanly possible. His arms snake across your waist, his hands landing squarely on your ass and his groan eliciting a magnitude of butterflies in the pit of your stomach as his tongue danced an infinite tango with yours. Smoothly, he backs you up until you feel your head tap a wall for support.

Holy crap shit. Your mind is a mess. No wait, your mouth is a mess. A warped sense of dizziness floods through your body and it has nothing to do with the alcohol you consumed earlier and everything to do with the sensuous teeth nipping at your bottom lip while his hands deftly squeeze your ass. Fuck, you can’t breathe. You don’t want to breathe. You cling unto his shoulders for stability and revel at how corded they feel under your touch.

He tears his lips away from yours, breathless, resting his forehead against yours. “God, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You can’t die until we get to the part where we role-play as demon and a naive spell caster.” You’re out of breath as well because that kiss was something else. Divine, maybe.

“I get to be the demon though, right?”

You grin at that. “Of course. I’m not a heathen.”

This time you kissed him, pushing all thoughts of future escapades further away from your mind and focusing on the beautiful man in front of you. Reaching up, you dig your hands through Jungkook’s abundant hair and moan. You understand then what it must have been like for Icarus to fly off to the sun. It must have scorched his skin to death within seconds, and yet at the same time, it must have been oh so slow. And you doubt he despaired because in the end he was heading home and he was finally not alone. You understand so well because the more the fire in your veins expands, the more you come close to burning up entirely. And you love it. You’re losing all control and you don’t care because he’s losing his alongside you.

Everything turns into a mess of frenzied motions. Him reluctantly removing a hand from your ass to reach up and use his fingers to clasp around your throat and position it just right enough for him to latch his lips there and suck. hard. When he pulls away from you to admire his handiwork, the lopsided grin on his face almost sends you into another need to kiss him.

“I’m not gonna fuck you at a frat party when only Zelda knows how many losers have cummed on a singular bedsheet,” he announces without remorse.

“Fair enough.”

“But I am going to do very wicked things to you that’ll loosen up those shoulders to the point of being supple. And after that, you’re gonna promise me that we’ll go get your knee checked out later.”

A few hours you would’ve kicked and screamed at the idea of anything derailing your plan of getting on the lineup for the competition. You thought that admitting you need help meant that you were quitting. Punishing yourself for something so irrevocably at out of your control. Now though, you nod your head drowsily. You hate the doctors but you hate self-destructing even more. Especially now when you have someone that hurts when you hurt.

He’s unraveling you.

“I’ll go.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, not believing how easily you’ve conceded to him. “Where has my sweet, stubborn Ice Queen gone? Bring her back to me, please. All this ecstasy must have gone to her head.”

God, whoever said you still won’t want to deck Jungkook even after experiencing something so explosive. But his grin threatens to split your heart two. Like he’s happy to just be with you, adoring you, joking with you. Oh, how your body is singing with praises.

“Yours?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

Jungkook beams. He’s the sun and you’re the moon. Now that you’ve tasted this, you’re never going to let go. You are simply submerged.

“Haven’t you realized? You’re my girl.”

a/n: i know very much that i took a lot of liberty when writing about collegiate swimming/sports in generral (i took an advanced swim class at my uni last semester so thats where all my info comes from) i tweaked it a lil bit to fit my purposes but it was fun to try to write about it hehe. 

i hope you all loved this fic as much as i loved writing it!!!! 

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2020 kai, high-on-food. ✉

[xiao8-bb]

Man, I Feel Like A

A Linked Universe fic

[chapter 1]

Chapter 2: A Sticky Situation [posted on ao3 here]

At what point is it considered appropriate to tell your travelling companions you’re actually a man, and at what point are you supposed to take the secret to your grave?  Wild has no idea and it’s driving him mad with anxiety.  He’s kinda waffling towards keeping it a secret forever at this point.

It’s not like he’s a man all the time.  He was genuinely just having a lot of girl days at first and so forgot about the problem, and he didn’t bother to correct anyone on a boy day when they happened.  But now it’s been a few months, he’s been a boy consistently for at least a week now, and if anyone calls him “she” one more time he thinks he might solve his problem purely through violence and yelling.

This is such a weird problem.  He’s used to the opposite in his Hyrule, where he’d be having girl days and be constantly called “young man” or whatever.

The funniest part?  He wasn’t even a girl when he first met them.  He came straight out of Gerudo Town after talking with Riju on a boy day and didn’t think to correct them, and now look.  It’s been months.  

Gender is an awful curse sent down by Hylia Herself for using Her name in vain too often, and now Wild has to reap the consequences.  What a vindictive goddess.  He endeavors to use it all the more wastefully whenever he has this thought.

Usually it’s not much of an issue.  He calls his ever shifting moods “girl days,” “boy days,” “goron days” for the times he feels more neither than anything.  Almost always, he feels like… half a gender at most.  Like he took a bite out of an apple and found that enough.  

On girl days she fixes in an earring Issha recommended and calls it a day.  She hardly ever bothers correcting people, like how the Gorons won’t mind if you call one sister instead of brother.  On boy days, he puts in a different kind and knows it’s enough.  Even if the Gerudo call him Little Hylian Vai (as they’ve taken to nicknaming him), he feels about the same as he always does.  Goron days are the easiest, where they forgo the earrings entirely.  There’s the little thrill when someone gets it right, but it’s not a big deal.  Link is Link, after all.  At his core, no matter if he’s called Wild or Link or Champion, no matter if he’s called a boy or a girl or, once, a hellion menace to society, he’s always solely himself.  Gender feels more like an accessory than it does part of his identity.

Except it’s been months, and Wild is going insane.  He didn’t realize how much he depended on the occasional slivers of—validation? insightfulness? understanding?—having someone call him correctly.  His friends back home knew, at least in few in almost every major settlement, and they always referred to him correctly after checking his ears.  

At the risk of being redundant: Wild has gone months without that.  In one go, he solved the problem of being referred to almost solely as a man and ended up with the problem of being referred to solely as a woman.

And now the second problem: how in the name of Hylia (blessed goddess who is the source of all his troubles) is he supposed to tell the others?

Hey, I know you’ve been under the impression I’m a woman this whole time, but surprise, I’m actually a man!  Except it’s not all the time, but today I am and have been for the past week.

Could you do me a favor and call me he until I tell you to stop, and to keep doing that if I ever ask again?

You know when that man in the town two portals back said to grow some balls and take up his gambling challenge?  Might’ve found a solution to that.

“What’re you muttering to yourself?” Twilight asks, and Wild nearly drops his armful of mushrooms back to the ground with a squeak.  He turns with wide eyes to see the rancher raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing!”

He gets a disbelieving sigh at that, but he’ll take it.  Better Twilight believe he’s planning to dump Goron spice into someone’s bowl than hear what he’s saying before he’s found the words.  

Wild stands up from his crouch, disappearing his haul into the slate.  “Did you get the herbs I asked for?”  At Twilight’s affirmative, they start heading back to the camp in companionable quiet.  They hadn’t wandered too far off, but it’s still a walk back.

It’s Twilight who breaks the silence first.  “Say, Wild…”  He stops, both verbally and motion-wise, forcing Wild to stop as well.  Wild looks up at the man’s face.  There’s hesitance writ in the uptick of his mouth, and his gaze is unreadable.  “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“Huh?  What brought this on?”

“Ah, it’s been a few months since you’ve joined our group, hasn’t it?  Got thinking, ‘s all.  You’ve got a good heart, so don’t hesitate to let us know if anything’s bothering you.”  He reaches out and ruffles Wild’s hair, smile widening into something genuine when Wild protests and pulls back.  “You’ve been looking a bit down.”

He… hadn’t realized his mood has been that obvious.  Wild looks down and kicks the dirt under his feet, hoping his ears aren’t as red as they feel.  A sincere, well-intentioned talk about his feelings?  Horrible.  Worst experience of his life.  “I’ll—”  His voice catches.  “I’ll be fine, Twi.”

He doesn’t need to look up to know Twilight is giving him that look, the one Wind calls the Big Brother Face.  “If you say so.  Just know we’ll be willing to listen and support you,” he says, gentle as if Wild is one of his goats.  

Wild runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling warmth and dread in equal amounts prick at him.  “Of course.”

And he’s not lying.  They’re all kind people at heart.  No one will care.  You don’t know that for sure, a little nagging voice says.  You lied to them for months, another hisses.  Should’ve spoken up earlier.  He can imagine the twinge of hurt in Hyrule’s face, the particular furrow in Legend’s forehead, the way Wind’s smile will drop a little if he tells them he’s been lying for so long and, worse, that they might’ve been hurting him, unintentional though it may be.  They’re too kind, is the problem.

It would’ve been one thing if he’d told them earlier.  Easier to laugh off, to brush aside as something that hadn’t crossed his mind until just then.  Like it wasn’t an intentional farce—it wasn’t!  Wild isn’t different at all, not where it matters.  Clothing doesn’t factor into it, because he’d wear whatever regardless of gender.  Neither does the way he acts, because a sashay is fun to pull off at any time, and as a girl Link has no problem swimming shirtless.  He’s just been going with the flow.

It feels like a farce though.  He never lied, not really, but he didn’t fix any of their assumptions, didn’t say anything, for months.  It’s a lie of omission that sits sour on the back of his tongue.

Twilight clicks his tongue, waiting until Wild looks back up at him to speak.  “Is it dangerous?  Whatever’s bothering you.”  He doesn’t seem stern or any more solemn than earlier, just an open, neutral expression on his face.

Uncomfortable, yes.  Dangerous?  No, not unless they run into a monster that feeds off conflicted guilt and pent up frustration.  Wild shakes his head.

“Then I’m not gonna pry.  I’ll keep Time from trying to dad you too, if you want.”

Unbidden, a giggle slips out of Wild.  “‘Dad’ me?”

“You didn’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed you’ve been down, did you?  I just got first dibs.”

Wild lets himself laugh fully at that, ignoring the stone in his stomach.  

-

Warriors flicks his gaze to the campfire, where a still-smiling Wild sits in front of a cooking pot.  She and Twilight had returned a while ago, snickering like mischievous children while sneaking looks to Time.  Old Man’s probably going to get some nasty purple chu jelly in his dinner tonight, he’s assuming.  A bit of a surprise she’s got Twilight in on it, though.  

It’s good to see that Wild’s in a better mood than before.  She’s been… not sullen, but a tension none of them can ease has been sitting on her shoulders for a few weeks now.  There’s nothing obvious that brought it on, but it’s heavy enough that even Legend will have worry flashing across his face whenever Wild pulls away from their group with no indication as to why.

“She’ll say something when she’s ready to,” he hears Twilight murmur to Time.  They’ve got some mentor/mentee plan going on to get Wild out of her mood.  Successful, he supposes; she’s been dropping off into frowns whenever left alone in her thoughts for too long, but right now she’s almost definitely brightened up enough to pull a prank.

Still, he can’t help but scoot over to insert himself into the conversation.  “It’s not anything dangerous, right?”  He trusts that she would tell them if it were; Wild is the least team friendly player in their group, but she’s got enough sense in her to know what’s necessary.

Twilight shakes his head.  “Confirmed it wasn’t.”  Here he hesitates, and his words come out slow, deliberate.  “I’m not sure if it’s… one of her memories?  I don’t remember there being one before she started acting weird, but it might’ve come as a dream.”

Warriors purses his lips, thinking.  It could be.  He’s certainly entertained the thought before.  Wild doesn’t fall into a memory too often, but they’re hard to hide, so everyone became aware of her amnesia and subsequent flashbacks sooner than later.  Almost always she’ll draw into herself a bit, hidden away in a large cloak until the world stopped being too loud and bright for her, and even then Wild would still be withdrawn until something coaxed her out of her shell.

It doesn’t feel like it, though.

He takes another look at Twilight’s face.  It says it all.  “You don’t think that’s it.”

The rancher really is a farm boy through and through, honest as the day is long.  “I overheard her talking to herself earlier, but I’m not sure what I heard and it’s not my place to say anyway.”

A sigh, and Time hauls himself up to his feet.  “Then we wait,” he says decisively.  They watch him amble over and strike a conversation with Four about the forest they’ve landed in.  Twilight goes back to sharpening his sword.

Warriors’s mind is still stuck on Wild, though, and he’d bet a bag of rupees so is Twilight’s.

He prides himself on being a good commander.  Quick to judge a situation and quick to notice if anything is wrong, able to lead squadrons of forces with only minutes to prepare.  Often, his command was too numerous for him to know everyone, but he did his best to be there for anyone who needed it.  Perhaps it’s foolish of him—too many faces, half-familiar from life, unmistakable in death haunt him to this day—but he refuses to give up caring.  It hurts, but to hurt is to be alive, and he carries his ghosts with him even as he locks eyes with a new trainee.

Here, their motley group is a lot smaller than the armies he used to command.  He’s never been an older brother before, but he finds himself falling into it naturally.  It’s easy to tug on the back of Hyrule’s tunic to keep him from wandering off, normal to nudge Four and encourage him to keep talking about smithing, effortless to pull Wind into a friendly scuffle.  With Wild, he finds himself looking after her like it’s instinct.

Maybe it’s because she’s still young at heart.  The scars riddling her face and body age her up years, but there’s something heartwrenchingly childlike about the way she’ll wander off from the group to catch a bug or pick a plant, not understanding why they’ll scold her to stick with them.  She’ll often show her finds off, grinning like there aren’t a million twigs in her hair and mud on her face.

It’s painful to see someone like that pull away without any indication as to why.

He sighs, leaning back on his palms to look at the evening sky.  The brightest stars are beginning to shine, flickering around the rising moon.  The smell of sweetly roasted vegetables wash over him.  Quick headcount: Sky and Wind sparring; Twilight sitting nearby; Legend checking their perimeter, Hyrule with him; Four and Time talking about where to go; Wild at the campfire, standing up and stretching.

“Dinner’s ready!” she announces, loud enough that Legend and Hyrule should hear.  Without waiting, she begins pulling out plates from her slate and spooning out portions.  Warriors watches her closely enough that he sees the glob of something purple being hidden under some greens.

Definitely purple chu jelly from Twilight.

It travels down the line, Warriors hesitating before handing it off to Time, who’s last.  It’s all in good fun though, and Wild’s figured out (after much trial-and-error) how to make sure the jelly doesn’t kill anyone, so he keeps quiet, only checking his own plate to make sure he’s not going to be a victim as well.  Wild catches his eye and winks.  Twilight, across the campfire, has a little feral edge to his grin.

Warriors watches with bated breath as Time takes a scoop of his food.  It’s riveting, seeing his expression go from pleased and content to I-will-kill-whoever-did-this.  Reminds him of the little pissed off kid he knew before meeting him again as an adult.

Time raises his head to glare balefully at Wild.  “Why did you do this.”  It falls flat of being a question.

“Do what?” Wild asks back, eyes wide and confused.  “I thought you liked carrots?”

Wind giggles into his own meal, shoveling another bite into his mouth when that earns him an unamused look.  “I didn’ do nothin’!” he protests before Time even starts saying the accusation.  “Yer face wa’ funny.”

“Don’t talk while chewing,” Sky reminds him.  “Time, what’s wrong with it?  Mine tastes fine?”

Without speaking, Time takes another scoop and presents the purple chuchu glob.  The camp falls into hysterics, speaking all at once.

“Some weird seasoning you’ve got there, Old Man.”

“Are you going to need a potion?”

“Where did someone even get their hands on that?”

Warriors sits back, letting the rambunctious laughter and chatter surround him.  Wind denies it some more, pointing to Hyrule, who was apparently looking at Time’s dinner too intently.  Hyrule denies it right back, pushing the blame to someone else too.  There’s shouts of protest as accusations go flying.  He tunes it out, just smiling to himself.  A small prank, but a big reception.  It’s nice to see spirits so high, especially Wild’s.

He’s too busy feeling reassured at Wild’s bright, impish grin that he nearly misses the accusation thrown at him.

“—paused before giving it to Time, too.”  Legend says this nonchalantly, but one’d have to be blind to miss the smirk he shoots Warriors as he says it.  “Seems suspicious to me.”

Twilight makes a faux thoughtful noise, failing to hide his laughter as Warriors whips his head around to stare in betrayal.  “He was rummaging through our bags earlier, could’ve taken it from mine or Wild’s packs then.”

Warriors splutters, “I was taking inventory!  You know, the thing I do every other night?”

There’s a little gasp from Four, too theatrical to be natural.  “He was staring at Time when we started eating too…”

Betrayal!  Ganged up on by the miserable lot he dared call his brothers!

Clearly they’ve figured out it wasn’t him.  Wild’s just about collapsed with laughter at the sight of his panicked face, but it’s obvious no one wants to spoil her fun.  Time gives him the sternest, most I-am-your-father-listen-to-me face he can muster and says, “What do you have to say for yourself, Warriors?  Why would you put purple chu jelly in this delightful meal Wild worked hard on?”

Warriors is speechless.  Wild titters, looks up to see Time raising an eyebrow at Warriors, and breaks back out into gleeful wheezing.  Wind and Legend don’t seem to be far off, delighted at his misfortune.  

Golden goddesses, the things he does for family.  “You’ve done it,” he says, strangled, “you’ve caught me in my dastardly tricks.  Oh woe is me, what punishment will I be given?”  Sky is the next to break, hiding his laughter behind a hand.

Time, the little snot, looks at him with thin, disappointed lips and mirth dancing in his eyes.  “This,” he intones gravely.  The purple chu jelly jumps from his spoon and smacks into Warriors’s face.

Even Twilight is losing it now.

“ARGH!” he squawks, not expecting Time to actually go through with it.  It’s to the others’ cackling that he slumps to the ground, groaning at the sticky feeling on his cheek.  He can deal with a little grossness (no matter what Legend says), but it’s not a nice feeling when he could be clean and not sticky.  

Someone hands him a clean cloth.  Hyrule, bless his heart.  It’s one of Twilight’s cloths, so he feels no guilt in scrubbing off the jelly and throwing it at the traitor himself.  Twilight takes the assault with a grin, the infectious mood lingering even as the laughter calms down.

“Here.”  A scarred hand dips into view, and Wild refills Warriors’s bowl with some fried greens fresh from the pot.  Steam rises up lazily.  She smiles at him through it, cheerful and alive like she hasn’t been for the past week, and he instantly forgives her for pulling him into her prank.

He takes a bite and sighs.  Fresh, still sweet yet crispy from quickly frying it.  “Delicious as ever,” he compliments, trying to force some grudge into his tone.  Wild sees right through him and beams wider.  “Oh, shove off.”  He wipes a hand, still a little sticky with goo, across her nose, grinning himself when she shrieks a little in delight.

“Be careful, mister, or else the goo’s going in your meal next!” she teases before scampering off to her own meal.

It’s sometime after dinner that Time approaches him.  “Thank you for playing along.”

Across the clearing, Wild’s wide grin has dropped to a faint upturn of her lips.  She’s scuffling with Wind and the large wolf that follows their group every now and then, trying to claim a sleeping spot.  She’s happy, and after the past week of halfhearted interaction, it feels like everything.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

-

The sun’s rays are beginning to skim past the treetops when Wild wakes up.  Legend notices immediately; there isn’t anything hostile in the area, so he’s been sitting closer to camp for the past hour now.  He doesn’t say anything when she sneaks out—at least, not at first.  When she doesn’t return after 10 minutes, 20, he shakes Twilight awake to keep watch before following.

She hasn’t gone far, just within hearing range if someone shouts.  Legend stands at the treeline, watching her pull and put back different earrings from that slate of hers.  Studs, hoops, drops, different fashions he can’t name, all reflective of masterful craftsmanship.  They gleam in the early morning light as she holds each pair up for examination.

“You can choose today’s accessories from the camp, you know,” he calls out.  Wild, to her credit, doesn’t react other than her shoulders raising a few centimeters.  “Pretty sure Wind won’t try stealing them.”

That earns a short laugh.  “He wouldn’t dare unless he wants his breakfast burned.  Besides, I’m just… trying to decide how I feel today.  Hard to do that around that noisy lot.”

Legend stops in his tracks.  Normally he’d like to tease, but there’s something brittle about her voice.  “Want me to leave then?” he offers.  He may be a prick, but he’s not about to inflict his presence on someone who needs some time alone.

Finally, Wild turns to look at him.  “No, stay,” she says, and even she looks surprised at how firmly she says it.  She pats the stone next to her.  “C’mon, sit with me for a while.”

It’s nice and quiet in the spot Wild’s chosen.  He sits with his back to her, not wanting to crowd.  Faintly, the tittering of birds sweeten the air, and if he closes his eyes and focuses he can smell the rich petrichor lingering from yesterday’s early evening rain.  Wild goes back to picking out earrings, the faint chime of her slate’s magic rhythmic in its repetition.

It’s like this often, Legend finds.  They’re both pretty silent people on their own, and perhaps not as close as they are with some of the others.  Sure, they jibe and bicker, but to avoid too much tension they end up not seeking each other out.  Legend isn’t even sure if he wants to be close to Wild anyway; she’s almost guaranteed to die violently young and violently so, given her track record of scars and reckless combat techniques.

Still, his treacherous heart cares, and he heaves a sigh as he thinks of her recent melancholy.  A conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?

“You’ve been wearing a lot of stud earrings lately,” he says.  He doesn’t turn to look, but the chiming stops.  “Maybe one of those dangling ones?  The amber gems give a nice glow to you.”

Quietly, so faint he almost misses it, Wild replies back, “...Maybe.”  He risks a glance to guess her expression; she’s staring distantly at her hands, eyes locked on a struggle Legend can’t see.  “Change things up a little, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, though she doesn’t see it.  “You don’t have to go with my suggestion,” he points out.  “If you want to wear studs, wear studs.  They get tangled up less in the twigs and branches you insist on jumping headfirst into, at any rate.”  

“And if I don’t want to wear any at all?”

What an odd question.  Legend fully turns around to squint at her.  “Then don’t?  What, am I missing some watchmen that will arrest you if you don’t put some metal in your ears?”

Wild huffs a laugh at that, but it’s half hearted.  “No, I don’t think so.  Don’t mind me, I’m just overthinking things.”

“Overthinking… types of earrings?”  He doesn’t mean to sound so doubtful, but Wild is both a ridiculous fashionista and someone who could not care less for her appearance.  She’s got a multitude of outfits, sure, but she’s never exactly cared if they matched or how she looked as a result (leading to a very distressing time where she sprinted through Twilight’s Castletown wearing her Barbarian shorts, clunky torso armor that glowed, and an odd mask that looked like a fish was eating her head.  He’s pretty sure they’re banned from the inn for life).

She shakes her head.  “No, forget it, it’s… related, but it’s not—”  This time, her head shake is harsher, more aggressive.  “It’s got some meaning for me,” she reveals reluctantly under Legend’s interrogating stare.  “What type of earrings I wear, I mean.”

He considers this, lining it up with the past week.  He almost wants to ask “why would you ever wear earrings that make you feel horrible?”, but obviously that isn’t an option.  Choosing wearing a specific type probably isn’t an option she has, either.  Something dictates the type she wears regardless of how she feels, but how could a type of earrings make one feel bad…?

Hylia, this is giving Legend a headache.

“Are the earrings hurting you?” he settles on asking.  There’s no way he’s getting the full story out of her anytime soon, but the important answers need to be established first.

“Wh—?  No, they’re fine.”

“Do they upset you?  Is that why you’ve been weird this past week?”

“... it’s not the earrings, not really.  Kind of?  It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it, then.”

He gets a jab to the side for that.  “I don’t know how to,” she admits, bitterness sharpening her tongue.  “I’m working on it, okay?  I’m… I’ll be fine, just give me some time to figure it out.”

Legend jabs her right back, tickling her sides for good measure and ignoring her squeak.  “Well, figure it out faster,” he says drolly.  “Whatever it is you’ve got going in your head can’t be that bad, considering it’s mostly empty in the first place.”

Now that earns him a tackle right off the rock, and they tussle around like children for a few minutes before wordlessly agreeing to stop, flopping onto the grass to stare at the brightening sky.  Neither of them are breathing very hard, but Legend thinks he can hear Wild’s become lighter, less burdened.  He bites his tongue to focus his thoughts.  

“Just wear whatever you feel like wearing, you menace.  If it’s not the earrings making you feel bad, then deal with whatever is making you act like a kicked puppy.”  He kicks out blindly and catches her ankle.  “If it’s one of us, or something we’re doing, or, I don’t know, maybe you’re just allergic to the grass here, tell us.  If it’s something from your past, then however you deal with it is up to you, but between the nine of us we’ve got all sorts of trauma covered, it’ll be easy to commiserate with someone.”

He rolls over to speak and finds her already looking at him.  “Uncomplicate it.  Whatever it is, either you’ll get past this or you won’t, but things will only get worse if you let it stagnate.”

Wild breaks eye contact first, sitting up but gaze fixed low.  At this angle, he can’t see her face.  “Get it over with, basically.  I guess that’s good advice.”

The sky looks bright enough that the others are probably awake by now.  “Of course it is,” he says.  She’s not going to take it, at least not right now, he can tell.  “Decide on the earrings yet?”

Clacks of fingernail against glass.  The now-familiar chime of the Sheikah slate.  “Studs again today.”

“Amber?”

“Amber, yeah.  You made a good point.”

“I always make good points.”

A snort, and they fall back into silence.  It feels like a moment in eternity before Wild speaks up again.  “We should make it back to camp.”  She sounds almost regretful, and Legend feels it too.  The area is warm and peaceful, and it feels like a crime to have to spend the entire day trekking their way through an adventure no one signed up for.  

Neither of them move.  He closes his eyes, feeling the morning sun warm his skin.

“Legend?”

It takes a moment to respond, the siren call of sleep beginning to pull at his senses.  “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He hums, not resisting the lull of the little bubble they’re in.  “No problem.”

[fictorium]

Lemme take a chance that this very obvious combination may inspire more Supercat ficlets coz I’ve been dying with the feels you’ve been giving me lately. 22, 25, 40. Thanks so much!

22. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

At first Kara assumes it’s another retreat in the mountains ‘diving’ situation. Cat Grant walking out on the White House is a big deal, but in a career like hers it barely breaks the top ten. Everyone speculates about what big move is next, including serious political commentary about whether Cat will run in the next election to unseat Baker. 

Instead she just disappears. Off the face of the Earth, it seems. 

Since she hasn’t been told otherwise, Kara ignores the chatter as best she can. It’s only natural that she reaches out by text and email to see if she can help spin whatever story Cat would rather have out there, and it definitely hurts when those go unanswered. Just a little. A totally normal amount. For two friends. Mentor and mentee. Former colleagues. 

Which is all they are. Were. Can be. Kara’s sure about that. Mostly. 

It would just be polite, in a civilized society, to reply to a person’s texts. Even if just to say that what Cat had planned next was less than zero of Kara’s business. Period. 

It’s not like she’s mad about it. Anyway.

It’s only when the unthinkable happens almost three weeks in, when the media actually moves on from the Where Is Cat Grant story that they’ve been having so much fun with, that Kara starts to look at the situation differently. Cat can be guarded about her privacy for someone so public, but she usually leaves at least a trail of breadcrumbs to wrongfoot the paparazzi. 

The reporter in Kara almost can’t help herself. She has access to almost everything she did as Cat’s assistant--surprisingly, most things on that front haven’t changed--and it only takes a few calls to former colleagues of Cat’s in DC to start picking up the first scent of the mystery. 

It’s a mystery that results only in dead ends though, and Kara is so frustrated after days of working on it flat out that she gives in and uses her supersenses for the kind of lead that good journalism just isn’t providing. She’s out of practice and it wouldn’t work if Cat really had gone to the other side of the planet, but she must at least be somewhere on the West Coast judging by how quickly Kara picks up that familiar half-stutter in Cat’s every second heartbeat, the result of a faint murmur she’s had since childhood. 

At first it worried Kara, because it sounded a little broken and almost like a warning, but she quickly got used to it working beside Cat all day every day. Now it’s a useful beacon in street after street of heartbeats, none of them quite right. When she does finally, almost frantically, track down that one elusive beat, Kara’s a little startled to discover Cat’s somewhere way out in the desert, with only a handful of other people anywhere nearby. 

Kara checks property records and Cat’s accounts to see if there’s some new house in the portfolio, but it’s only tracing a sizeable payment in the thousands to something vaguely labelled on a statement as ‘wellness’ that Kara puts the pieces together. 

She should leave it there, when she does. It’s not something she should intrude on. But there’s a website. Full of glossy words and promises and legally-watertight non-guarantees. Kara wants to throw up as she reads more and more of it, of seeing page after page that screams at her for being so far out of the loop, for not being around to see where this was all going. 

And mostly, horribly, for being too damn late. 

There’s only one thing Kara wants to do now, but the tiny chance of it is entirely dependent on whether Cat will even see her. It’s coming up on 8pm when Kara picks up the phone, and she just hopes that will be reason enough for her call to get answered. 

* * *

At least when she gets there, to the mysterious sprawling ranch in the desert, Kara can see that it’s the height of luxury. That much hasn’t changed since Kara’s world flipped upside down over a week ago. The worst part has been not being able to tell a single soul, not even Alex, and the stress of that was only offset by Cat agreeing to see Kara. Today. In exactly 13 minutes to be exact. 

Security is tight, but Kara has patience to spare as she goes through step after step to be allowed inside, to once again be accepted into Cat’s inner sanctum. The room that Kara is politely told to wait in is certainly a beautiful space, a courtyard of sorts with sunbleached white walls and the kind of sleek but stuffed garden furniture that costs four times what Kara’s actual furniture was worth, brand new. 

There’s a small table with a pitcher of iced tea, so Kara pours a glass and downs it, pouring another right after. It’s distraction enough with the rattling ice that she doesn’t notice Cat’s approach. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” is Cat’s opening shot, and Kara spins around at the sound of her voice.

“I’m not asking for one.”

“Good. And I don’t want a drink, before you offer.” Cat waves a sleek water bottle that she’s holding in one hand, a band from it around her wrist. “I haven’t been drying out in here for weeks only to come out addicted to sugar.”

Well that answers any number of questions Kara doesn’t dare ask. As rehab facilities go, it’s certainly five-star. This is the first day on Cat’s program that she’s been allowed visitors, and Kara is surprised she’s even there. It would be terrible to blow it, to have Cat throw her out before they even sit down. 

“You look good,” Kara says instead, taking a seat on the large bench that dominates one wall. Cat considers for a moment, then joins her. She has large sunglasses in place, but there’s no evidence of makeup on her skin. Her hair has none of its usually immaculate style, and the blonde highlights have faded out to mostly brown at the roots. All the same, it’s true that Cat looks every bit as beautiful as Kara has always found her. 

The compliment earns only a derisive snort, but Cat preens just a little, in her linen shirt and pants, loose-fitting and crinkled in a way that feels almost unbearably intimate; like Kara shouldn’t be present when Cat is so stripped back and vulnerable. 

“So, you found me,” Cat says eventually. “We’ll make a reporter of you yet.”

“I’ve been nominated for a Pulitzer, Ms Grant.”

“Oh please, those don’t even count until your third.” 

Kara winces at her own excitement, at how readily she’d believed she’d made it. Cat, to her credit, seems to notice that the words were a little too flippant.

“You can still enjoy the first two, of course. Now you’ve seen me for yourself, is that enough?”

“Enough? Cat, I came to see if you need anything. If I can help in any way. Here, now, or when you get out and come home. I’ve been researching addiction, and how best to support someone you care about and--”

“Kara, I’m not your problem anymore. You don’t have to manage me, or keep my life running smoothly. You’re... off the hook for all that now.”

“Did you not hear the part where I care about you?” Kara won’t let that be swept aside, not now. “You can be oblivious, Cat, but not that unaware.”

“And if you’ve done your research, you’ll know that relationships in the first year of recovery are a bad idea. Along with all the other reasons it’s a bad idea.”

Kara stands. She’s being shot down before she even gets going, and it can’t be that way. Not now. 

“Do you honestly think I wouldn’t wait for you? That I haven’t basically been waiting for you since I walked into your office at 10:15 years ago? Do you think there is anything you could go through that would make me stop caring about you?”

“I have a lot to fix, Kara. Not least with my boys. Carter isn’t even...”

“I spoke to him,” Kara replies. “I know you’re not talking but I know he’s open to making that better, when you’re ready. And nothing I ever wanted for me and you would get in the way of that. We might only ever be friends, Cat, but I plan on being a good one.”

Cat reaches for her then, catching Kara’s hand and clutching it with her own. 

“I knew you’d find me. Somehow, I knew. And I don’t deserve you, Kara, but if you’re really offering to be in my life again, I don’t think I can turn that down.”

“Then don’t.”

“We could go for a walk? In the grounds? They let me do that now.” Cat stands without ever letting go of Kara’s hands. “I can’t promise anything else, but we could start with that?” 

“I’d like that,” Kara replies. “I’d like that a lot.”

[alexeishostakoff]

natasha doesn’t run when the battle over the accords is fought and done, gets herself a deal with the united nations (much to ross’s annoyance) and stays in new york city.

she avoids the compound, doesn’t push for anything, but she’s always ready to lend a hand, and, honestly, that’s a lot more than tony can say for any of the other original avengers.

and she’s a lot closer to the friendly neighborhood spider-man than he is, so it’s entirely possible that they come to a sort of agreement (and, no, it’s not a co-parenting situation, no matter what rhodey says).

that’s how natasha ends up here, sitting on the edge of a rooftop and watching peter tie up a few thieves with a slightly proud smile on her face.

when she stands and turns to leave, though, something happens that she didn't expect:

peter drops down in front of her, sticking his landing perfectly, then takes off his mask. “hey, uh, ms. black widow ma’am,” he says nervously, while she has to fight back a hint of amusement, “can we talk? like, one spider to another?”

she crosses her arms, all business, but nods. “what’s up, parker?”

he hadn’t been expecting that reaction, and it shows in the flash of confusion that appears on his face, but he talks anyways. “i just...have i been doing a good job? like, i’ve called mr. stark and left voicemails and then i’ve talked to happy once or twice, but other than that i haven’t really been getting any answers. i dunno if you’re seeing mr. stark much, but has he said anything about me?”

her stance softens a little, and, well, she might not know the kid that much, but she can’t stop herself from feeling slightly bad. “you’ve been doing a pretty good job, especially for someone as new to this as you are,” she replies, and he brightens up some immediately. “and stark hasn’t said anything specifically about you, but i know he’s proud of your progress. you’re a good kid, parker.”

peter smiles at her, light and happy, and, fuck, natasha’s starting to see why tony has such a weak spot for this kid.

“thanks, ms. romanoff.”

“call me natasha.”

“i really don’t think i could, ms. romanoff.”

she smiles at the earnest look on his face, and doesn’t press it. “i’ll be around if you have any more questions or need any help, alright? i’m not too busy these days.”

he tilts his head slighty, a little confused. “why not? you’re an avenger.” sure, he knows something went down back in berlin, but she’s the black widow, she’s a badass! (maybe more badass than mr. stark. not that peter would ever say that to his face.)

“not really, not now,” she replies, and, no, she’s not sad, shut the fuck up.

“why not?”

she considers him carefully for a moment, turns over possible replies, anything that gives a satisfying answer without revealing too much.

“i was compromised.”

-

the next time peter and natasha speak, the circumstances are much different, and far from ideal.

natasha’s running late on patrol, and when she catches up to him peter’s up against the brick wall, being pummeled by a man twice his size. he’d clearly put up a fight, but maybe he’d been surprised, or it just wasn’t his night.

she’s dropping down to the ground before she’s even finished taking in the scene, kicking the man in the back of the knee and then shoving him up against the wall, slamming his head on the bricks. he never even gets the chance to fight back, out like a light with a few more blows, and she kicks him in the ribs on his way down to the pavement.

with that, natasha turns her attention back to peter, who gives her a small, bloodstained smile. “thanks, ms. romanoff,” he says weakly, clutching his side, and she’s half sure that something’s broken.

“let’s get you back to my place,” she says. “i’ll patch you up.”

he starts to respond, but then he sways, starts to fall, and natasha catches him quickly, picks him up like he weighs nothing.

“you’re...you’re really strong,” he manages to get out, and she laughs a little bit, heading off down the street and shooting a deadly glare at anyone who questions why a thirty-something redhead is carrying spider-man through queens.

-

peter wakes up on natasha’s couch.

his first thought is ow.

his second is oh, shit, aunt may is going to kill me.

he sits up quickly, side burning, only to be stopped by a few words from natasha, who’s making coffee in the kitchen. “it’s okay, parker,” she says, not even glancing over at him. “stark covered with your aunt. it’s a saturday, too, you’re fine.”

“oh,” he says, laying back down. “okay.”

“you want something to eat?”

“do you...do you have any lucky charms?”

natasha laughs again, loud and bright in a way that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time. “yes,” she replies. “yes, of course i’ve got lucky charms. i’m not a heathen.”

peter smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with a hand resting on his bandaged side. “you’re the best, ms. romanoff.”

“i know, parker.”

-

“- and then i tossed him into a building!” peter rambles on about the crimefighting he had done in the week natasha had been gone, sneaking out of the country to visit an old friend in wakanda. he looks excited, illustrating his stories with gestures and sound effects, and natasha can’t stop herself from smiling as she listens attentively.

he’s shaping up to be one hell of a hero.

she’s proud of him.

it’s a new feeling, strange, but she thinks she could get used to it.

“i think i reached a new bad guy-catching record!”

yeah, she could definitely get used to it.

-

"how's peter been?"

natasha arches an eyebrow, leaning against the wall of the office. "don't try to pretend that you don't know, stark," she replies. "i know i'm not the only one who's keeping an eye on him."

tony shrugs, half of his attention trained on a design friday's projecting for him. "he's doing good. you two seem to be getting along well."

"you worried i'm going to steal your mentee?"

he laughs, the first real one she's heard from him in a long time, and, damn, it makes her feel good. "maybe rhodey's right about the co-parenting."

"...it's possible."

-

natasha doesn't do parties, or presents, or most celebrations in general, unless if it's a team function or for a mission or sharon begs her.

but it's peter's birthday, and may invited her, so...it's not like she could say no.

she knocks on the door to the parker apartment, half tempted to turn around and leave, but before she can give in to that temptation, may swings the door open, giving natasha a bright smile.

"hey! come in, come in. peter's going to be so excited that you came."

natasha gives may a small smile in return, stepping into the apartment. "thanks for inviting me."

"of course!"

-

the party's small (just natasha, tony, may, happy, ned, mj, and peter), but it's enough.

natasha thinks that home might feel something like this.

[minah-delacroix]

At any price (Part IV)

Universe: Dynasty AU

Characters: Minah, Sungjae, Tyler, Tara, Ashleigh, Daniel, Lucas

Word count: 4,3 k

The blind spot

“The Lee Corp gift strategists are on their way, should I set them up in the study room?” Lucas, Tyler’s very handsome mentee, said as the two of them walked into the golden room on the second floor of the Lee Manor. It was just another morning at the Lee’s, and Lucas ever so helpful was running through Tyler’s day’s schedule. Coming from one of the richest families in town, Lucas Zhang was surely one of a kind. He possessed the killing looks of a pop star —or at least that was how Jane described him to anyone willing to listen—, the good manners of the only son of a very traditional, old money Asian family and the ability to memorize Tyler’s schedule by heart and put up with his oftentimes ridiculous demands.

“Please, do,” Tyler said, practically snatching the cup of coffee one of the maids was about to serve to Lucas before sitting at the head of the curved glass table where Tara usually hosted her reading club soirées, but that had been set up for yet another majestic breakfast that morning.

Living with the Lee siblings was quite an experience and despite having spent nearly a month under the same roof, Minah was not used to their extravagant way of living yet. Even for someone like her who’d grown up surrounded by otherworldly luxury and wealth, some of Tyler’s habits seemed over the top at the very least. Minah had uselessly tried to convince herself that having her clothes washed and ironed with lavender water imported exclusively from Provence for that purpose or having breakfast at different sections of the house every day were just little quirks, but some of the house’s codes made her frankly uncomfortable. Having Tyler’s maids following her around and offering to perform even the most common and simplest of the tasks was one of them. She still recalled the time one of the housemaids offered to undress her and brush her hair before taking a bath. According to Tara, it was just the royal pampering they had been trained to give, but Minah still found it odd. Royal court training or not, she didn’t want any woman touching her intimately.

Then there was the excessive food and the grand buffets each meal turned into. Minah herself was not too much of a foodie, so she considered the exaggerated amount of fine cuisine a waste of resources. That morning was no particularly different and a spread of breakfast classics laid out on the table: exotic fineries like British tea mixes Minah had never heard of before, macarons from Tyler’s personal patissier, small cakes with the Lee family’s coat of arms —two dragons intertwined by a cross flory over a per saltire field—, silver dollar pancakes with red fruits, toasted English muffins, four different types of yogurt, you name it.

“Good morning, Miss Delacroix”  Minah couldn’t help but smile that little satisfied grin of hers she reserved for men of his kind when Lucas sat across the table, bowing at her the slightest bit. Breakfast had suddenly become ten times more fulfilling with a man as beautiful around.

“Did you sleep well, darling?” Tyler cleared his throat, directing a fleeting, charming smile at Minah, who sat to his right dressed in a luxurious champagne peignoir that hugged every curve of her body. Then he eyed Lucas, pointing at the iPad with a very detailed schedule glowing on its screen.

“After the meeting with the-“ Whatever Lucas was planning to say, it was disrupted by his phone loudly ringing in the pocket of his Anderson & Sheppard jacket. He picked the call and almost immediately mouthed a “they’re here” to Tyler. Lucas pushed the chair back and stood up excusing himself with Minah with another bow before disappearing through the arched entrance.

“Is Mr. Choi up yet?” Tyler ignored the little pout Minah’s lip stuck out in and asked to no one in particular, though if Minah had to guess, he was talking to Mrs. Chu, his elderly Singaporean nanny.

“I’m afraid not” She replied, barely looking up from her phone. She was lounging on a chaise long, focused on her favorite mobile game. “He said he needed to catch up on his sleep,” She said before muttering to herself “As though he didn’t sleep enough already”.

“Well, please let him know I’ll be in the study room with the gift strategists in case he needs anything” Tyler reached to grab a pitcher of orange juice, but one of the maids standing nearby pounced forward to serve him.

“Gift strategists?” Minah asked, blowing softly on the surface of her cup of pine nut and apricot tea.

“Gifts for our clients” Tyler replied naturally “I mean, my family company’s” he corrected himself as the maid placed a bowl of fruit and greek yogurt in front of him “We are sponsoring The Royal Exchange's annual tree lighting ceremony this year. I thought we’d hand the gifts there-” He trailed off, a slightly concerned expression of disbelief crossed his face  “Don’t tell me, you forgot the year-end business presents for our company”

Minah shook her head fervently although Tyler was not mistaken. With the stress of dealing with her family and her mind occupied by thoughts of Sungjae, she’d completely forgot about the business presents she was supposed to prepare. “What do you take me for?” She chuckled “Of course Maison Envoûté has something in the works."  

“Do I get one of these gifts too?” Daniel Choi swept into the impromptu breakfast room and sat down across from Minah, admiring the food waiting for him.

“No, your life has been one big Christmas morning since you arrived” Minah faked a sweet smile at Tyler’s friend, who was meant to be visiting from New York for a week, but who’d already prolonged his stay a couple of times. Minah thought she had reasons to worry about him and how much of a distraction he’d represented since he set foot at the Manor. Tyler would often forget appointments because Daniel was around doing God knows what to keep him off his duties.

“You two behave, I’ll be in the study room,” Tyler said trying not to giggle at the way his business partner and his best friend looked at each other —as though they were planning each other’s funeral. “See you at the office, Min” Tyler gave Minah a quick soft kiss on the forehead before exiting the room, causing Daniel to fake retching noises.

“So what are you gonna do?” Daniel asked once Tyler was gone. Minah looked  over at him with a serious and inquiring face, so he added “About the client gifts you don’t have?” With an eye roll.

“Like I said it’s in the works” Minah glared at Daniel so forcefully she was surprised he didn’t retreat then.

“Tyler might’ve bought your act, but he’s nice and he gives people more credit than they deserve” He sneered as one of the maids offered him a basket of pastries. He picked a croissant. “I’ve been here two weeks and I already know you have a blind spot when it comes to thinking about other people” He looked like he was going to add something else but he thought better and simply forced himself to smile at Minah

“I have no blind spots. I see all spots.” Minah picked a strawberry and took a bite “Just like I see you eating your croissants while you may be desperately trying to claim a seat at this table” Minah watched satisfied the way Daniel’s face tensed up  “But you need to know that unless you’re a Lee or make business with a Lee, no one cares what you think” Minah popped the rest of the strawberry into her mouth, chewing slowly, her mouth twisting into a smirk as she stood to leave “Especially not me”

Daniel’s eyes followed Minah when she walked out of the room, a strange smile gleaming across his face as he piled mini croissants onto his platter.

Boundaries

“Hey, I need a shopping partner or an assistant whichever you’re in the mood to be” Minah called, walking into Sungjae’s house

Somewhere in between the charity football game and the present day Minah and Sungjae had a conversation that allowed them to get some things off their chest and agree to try and be friendly to each other. After all, they’d known each other for a long time, and ignoring each other’s existence was as uncomfortable as it was inconvenient, considering Minah still helped Aurelie with some of her family’s minor companies. That’s why Minah thought there would be no problem if she paid a quick visit to her new “friend”.

“A ride at the very least” she suggested, fixing the chain of her shoulder bag. Just as she reached his room, the door opened and Ashleigh walked through it. She didn’t seem surprised to see Minah, instead, she was fastening her belt with a hundred-watt grin crossing her lipstick smudged lips.

“Oh, I see someone already got one” Minah scoffed, trying to look unfazed and unaffected by the fact Ashleigh never seemed to leave Sungjae’s side.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Ashleigh asked,  walking out of Sungjae’s room and picking her bag from the console table in the hall.

A jab of jealousy nailed Minah in the gut. She could remember personally picking that table for Sungjae in one of the many home decor shopping sprees they went on when he first moved into the Delacroix property.

Suddenly the awful realization that it never was just sex swept over Minah. Sungjae meant a lot more to her than she ever admitted.

Obviously, now it was too late.  

“Oh, you mean I can’t just walk in like I own the place?” Minah questioned with a thinly veiled smirk. “Because newsflash, I do”

Ashleigh purposely ignored Minah’s words and reached to pick her coat.

“So how is the job going? Heard Mr. Rausing wasn’t too pleased after finding out you rejected our contract. Now he’s been chasing after us, desperately trying to get us to sign with him, offering us a bargain price for your textiles” Suddenly feeling vindictive, Minah said despitefully. "I guess I should thank you after all"

“The only job I want to talk about is the faux job you pretended to give my boyfriend” Ashleigh frowned. It was the first time the two of them met face to face after Envoûté’s launch party, so Minah wasn’t exactly shocked to find out Sungjae’s girlfriend was still furious at her. After all, she’d made her cry and leave the party early.

“Faux job?” Nevertheless, Minah feigned obliviousness “Wow that’s pretty classy, Ash” Ashleigh cast an exasperated glare at Minah, so she gave in “You know you could argue that me pretending to blow Sungjae was a good thing, you two came out stronger than ever-”

“Are you high on something?” Ashleigh forced a laugh. As if on cue, Sungjae step into the hall.

“What is going on?”

Minah shrugged innocently and Ashleigh, though still fuming, only turned to face her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the mouth.

Minah looked away, feeling an unpleasant twinge of jealousy.

“I was about to leave” Ashleigh put on her coat as Sungjae looked over at Minah questioningly “Maybe you should change your locks” The blonde woman gave Sungjae a peck on the cheek before walking out of his home.

There was a brief silent moment where Sungjae continued to look at Minah as if asking for explanations, but she had already started to walk toward the kitchen.

“Minah“ Sungjae called with a weary sigh, making her turn on her heel and look at him with those large Bambi eyes of hers that apparently had long ago lost their effect on him. Sungjae stood looking at her with his arms crossed over the chest, eyes hard as he regarded her with a raised brow.

“I would say she isn’t getting enough of you-know-what, but knowing you-“ Minah was interrupted by Sungjae’s severe sounding voice.

“Minah you can’t just barge in here without respect for boundaries,” Sungjae said, his lips twisted in disapproval.

“Boundaries?” Minah asked, eyelashes fluttering “I thought you agreed to be my friend”

“Yes, but Ashleigh doesn’t want to be your friend” Sungjae’s voice softened “Nor she wants to be reminded we were friends”

“I think you’re using friends as a euphemism, but I mean actual friends” Minah pursed her lips and then stared at Sungjae with something that resembled to pleading eyes, for a brief moment. But of course, Minah was a Delacroix, so her expression shifted automatically, turning a tad reproaching.

“Minah, you can’t expect Ashleigh to be cool after all you put her through”

Minah rolled eyes at that. What about what Ashleigh had put her through?

“You need to give us some space” Sungjae didn’t look amused, nor he’d sounded so serious ever before.

Minah took it as a cue for her to leave.

Sungjae’s Christmas present

“What is all of this?” Tara asked following Tyler into his office. The room smelled like an odd mix of cigars, fine chocolate, and scotch so she regarded Minah, who was sitting at her desk with an arrangement of colorfully wrapped gifts, with wariness.

“It’s the season to show our clients how much we appreciate them” Minah handed a list to Tara and Tyler as they sat across from her on a recently shipped Grand Model Sofa from Le Corbusier. “And to show our competitor’s clients what they’re missing out” she smiled proudly.

“Are we hosting another party?” Tyler asked confused, without even sparing a glance at the list.

“People forget parties as soon as their hangover fades” Minah was probably speaking from her own experience at the launch party but Tara nodded in agreement. “If we can butter up my family’s clients with a memorable present, maybe some of them will be willing to meet with us”

Tyler and Tara shared skeptical looks, but Minah was too busy sorting through the gifts on her desk to notice.

“Now, if you look through the list you can see some of the options-”

“Tara will help,” Tyler said giving a quick glance and losing interest the moment he noticed there were like 20 items on it “Choosing presents is exhausting, I can only deal with it once a year”

“Fine” Minah shrugged, concealing the disappointment in her voice quite well. She’d been under the impression Tyler wanted to pick the gifts for their clients himself, but she figured out the meeting with the gift strategists that morning hadn’t gone quite as planned. “Anyway, my family usually hands the gifts at their Tree Lighting Ceremony, so I guess we could send ours next week at the latest” she added, discarding all the items she’d been planning to show Tyler and putting them back in their respective bags.

“So you’re going to the Lighting Ceremony?” Tyler stood up and asked “casually”, which earned him an eye roll from his sister.

“Of course I am, I’m a Delacroix after all” Minah said distractedly.

“Wanna go together?” Tyler’s invitation made Minah and Tara stop on their tracks and slowly turn to look at him with matching looks of disbelief.

“Well…” Minah started, clearly flustered “I usually go with Sungjae” Tyler’s obvious reaction was to roll eyes while Tara’s face morphed into a grimace that looked like a charade clue for the WTF expletive. “But I figured out his girlfriend wouldn’t like that” Minah went on, picking her bag from the ottoman next to her desk as a new realization hit in. “You know what? I got the best idea for Sungjae’s Christmas present this year” She jumped to her feet enthusiastically.

“Space?” Tara asked, giving Minah a slightly cold judgmental look.

“No” Minah shook her head “I am going to make a new friend”

“Who?” Tyler blinked confused.

“Please don’t say-“ Tara started.

“Ashleigh,” Minah and Tara said in unison, their voices differing in tone.

—

It took Minah an hour to navigate through London’s traffic and make it to Ashleigh’s office on the 30th floor of some North London tower that once upon a time had been considered one of the ugliest architectural pieces in the city, but it had been revamped with vertical gardens that made an important ecological statement as much as they helped it to save face.

Minah had to take a deep breath before walking through the doors of IN-Eco Corp and remind herself that she was only there to show Sungjae how much she actually cared about him and that she was willing to do anything to keep him in her life. She would go as far as to call a truce with Ashleigh. Even if that implicitly conveyed a sign of weakness.

When Minah stepped into Ashleigh’s office she was on the phone complaining about a sponsor drawing back from a contract and how it would affect the company’s organic cotton farming project in Peru, but she was quick to finish the call as soon as she saw Minah.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt” Minah apologized insincerely. Actually, she’d meant to and she was glad Ashleigh picked the hint. “But, I brought you an invitation to the Annual Delacroix Tree Lighting Ceremony” Minah flipped her hair over her shoulder with one hand and pulled a red envelope from her clutch with her other.

“The Tree Lighting might be hosted by your family, but Sungjae is an employee and I’m going as his date, why would I need your invitation?” Ashleigh said, getting up from her desk. “Why are you really here, Minah?” Minah didn’t miss the way Ashleigh pronounced her name —the way someone would pronounce some offensive word.

“Sungjae is my friend and you’re his girlfriend” Minah started, trying not to react at the way Ashleigh moved her hands as if encouraging her to go on and stop repeating the obvious. “So it stands to reason that you and I are gonna run into each other a lot-”

“Is that a threat?” The blonde cut Minah off.

“No” Minah heaved a sigh, thinking about the lengths she’d go to make Sungjae happy with a strange sense of concern and mortification. “I'm just saying we all should be friends for all of our sakes”    

“So in other words, you want me to make it more convenient for you to spend time with my man?” Ashleigh raised her brows incredulous. Minah almost let out a chuckle at the fact Ashleigh referred to Sungjae as “her man”, but she had the sense to stop herself.

“Ashleigh, listen, this is not just about Sungjae” Minah offered her a fleeting smile “I would be the first one to admit that I could use a girl friend” Ashleigh laughed as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “Come on, Ashleigh, you’re making things more complicated than they need to be” Minah went on “It’s not like Sungjae and I were even in love” Ashleigh expression hardened upon registering those words “It was just office sex and booty calls”

“Tell that to him” Ashleigh glared at Minah

“Wait, what? Did he say it was more than sex?” Minah attempted to sound casual but was quick to realize Ashleigh wasn't fooled by her cool exterior and was picking up on her lingering excitement.

“And that is exactly why we can’t be friends” Ashleigh fumed, opening the glass door for Minah to leave.

Trying to move on

“Why are you still bothering that poor girl?” Tara inquired sternly, looking at Minah through her pair of frameless Chopard glasses. For someone as lenient as her, Tara seemed quite exasperated

“Well…“ Minah, sitting on the Pierre Frey rug, supported her left elbow on the sofa and placed her hand upon the chin. The two girls had been sitting in one of the lounge rooms on the second floor, supposedly working, but of course, they’d lost their track after Minah decided to share her visit to Northern London with Tara. “I thought that if I tried to be friends with her-“ Minah looked up from the list in her hands, sincerity radiating from her big hazel eyes, something Tara would’ve given Minah credit for if she had not been too busy frowning at her.

“Let-it-go, Min” Tyler’s sister clicked her tongue as though Minah had not spoken. “Close the door and let’s focus on this before Tyler gets back here. We’ll talk about this later when I have Jane backing me up”

Minah rolled her eyes. Tara was really not fun at all ever since she started hanging out with that Mark Yang boy.

“Well, Envoûté is supposed to be super innovative and eco-friendly” Tara started

“Well, if we go with tech it has to be cutting edge, something everybody wants” Minah meditated, her eyes straying briefly to the strong fire blazing in the fireplace

“So why don’t we give them that headphone-headband hybrid, but we make it couture?” Tara suggested.

“Here’s a tip, you can never go wrong with rum,” Daniel said entering the room, a glass with something that looked like a Negroni in his hands.

“Tell that to your parents, Daniel” Minah scoffed. “Look, this is a work zone, for people with jobs”

“Jobs where you can wear pajamas all day?” Daniel said, eyeing Minah up and down and looking at her silk set with reproving eyes. “Sign me up”

“Charlotte Casiraghi wore this last week!” Minah explained to Tara, almost scandalized Daniel was suggesting she was wearing pajamas. “You’ve clearly picked Americans’ bad taste, assuming you ever had it, of course,” Minah spat angrily.

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to comment on your clothes” Daniel started, eyes narrowing to slits “Though I would absolutely change before meeting the cutie that’s waiting for you downstairs” He shrugged before turning around ready to leave.

“Wait! Who is it?” Tara asked curiously.

“I think his name is Seojun” Daniel didn’t deign to look back at the girls before walking away.

“Sungjae?” Minah and Tara exchanged incredulous looks.

____

Ten minutes later Minah walked down the marble staircase into the entrance hall of Tyler’s home. It was a given that Minah Delacroix was always beautiful without even trying, but she looked almost ethereal dressed in white ruffled silk shorts and a bodice with thin straps that barely held the piece of fabric in place and showed more cleavage than her family would deem appropriate for someone of her status. Then there was the fact her hair gleamed against her clothes, spilling down her shoulders in loose waves.

Sungjae had to gulp and look away when she stood in front of him, eyes boring into his.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned, still feeling bitter about their last meeting.

“Well, you don’t seem to understand boundaries, so why should I?” Sungjae’s voice was tense as if he were keeping himself contained within his body. “Why did you go see Ashleigh?” His jaw clenched.

Minah snorted. “I was adulting. All I did was inviting her to the Tree Lighting Ceremony and she kicked me out of her office” She said, giving slow steps, trying to draw closer to Sungjae.

“I told you to give us space and you tried to sabotage my date?” Sungjae shook his head, tongue in cheek as if he couldn’t believe Minah was as tone-deaf.

“What?” Minah’s snort was equal parts confused and offended, she stared at Sungjae, eyes widening and mouth pressed into a fine line. “Wait, you’re taking her to the Tree Lighting?” Her voice was accusing and momentarily she allowed herself to look hurt. “But that’s our thing. I mean-” Of course Minah briefly forgot there was no such a thing as “we” —as in Minah and Sungjae— any more and by extension, there were no traditions for them to keep either, but the thought was so painful that she still went on. She needed a clear response “We always go together-” she trailed off.

“Minah, these boundaries aren’t just for Ashleigh” Sungjae said gravely, “They’re for me” He took a few steps forward, the heels of his dress shoes slightly clicked against the marble floor and before he noticed, he was standing face to face with Minah, so close she could even count his lashes. “I can’t keep doing this every day” Minah recognized the same tone he used the morning after he slept with Ashleigh. “I think about you when I shouldn’t and I need to get you out of my head before we fall back into what we had”

The tension between them was so thick Minah almost felt she couldn't pull air into her lungs. Sungjae’s words echoed through the ample hall and its almost 30-foot ceilings, causing Minah to shudder ever so slightly.

When she finally gathered the courage to speak, Minah felt like facepalming herself. Her breath shook as she parted her lips. “Would- would that be so wrong?” she asked, her hand moving to hold Sungjae’s before her brain could even process what she was doing.

“Yes” Sungjae watched their hands and briefly squeezed Minah’s in something that was probably meant to be a comforting and warm touch, but that only made Minah’s heart tremble in ache. “I’m trying to move on”

And with that Sungjae stormed out of the Lee Manor.

Meanwhile, Minah remained in the same spot, her stomach twisting in pain as she swallowed once, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“You startled me” Just when she was about to indulge in tears, the doors of the manor flung open and Tyler strolled in, clearly surprised to find Minah there, all dolled up. His eyes automatically settled on the curves of her breasts and the glowy skin of her cleavage.

“I- I was-“ Minah heard herself stammer “I was waiting for you to come home” she blatantly lied.

“Why?” Tyler licked his lips almost unconsciously

“I figured out I never gave you an answer” Minah smiled at him fondly, but he looked a bit confused, so she clarified “Do you still want to go to that Tree Lighting together?”

Tyler raised a brow for a fraction of a second, but then he threw a furtive appreciative glance at Minah and smirked, nodding his head.

Why would she ask such obvious questions was beyond him.

...

[avengersandco]

So I stumbled upon a prompt list for august bc apparently its writers month, so i’m gonna try and do it to get back into writing (@writersmonth). While most of the prompts will most likely end up being iron dad, stony, or superfamily, they honestly maybe whatever I feel like that day in the MCU. But yeah, here we go!

Found on AO3 here

Word Prompt: Annoyance

Tony could tell that something was off the moment Peter walked into the lab. Instead of his usual “Hi Mr. Stark!” as he walked up to his mentor to see what Tony was working on, all he got was a small ‘hey’ as Peter threw his backpack on the couch before sitting on it as well.

“Hey kiddo, how was school today?” 

“Boring as usual. Can you please talk to May about letting me graduate early?”

“Nope. We’ve had this conversation before. It’s not my place to comment and I happen to agree with her,” Tony reminded him, looking back at Peter who was glaring at him from the couch. “Wanna come work on my suit with me?”

“Can’t. Got homework,” Peter mumbled, turning to his backpack to pull stuff out. Tony shrugged, turning back to his work as well, turning the music back on. Neither of them talked for a little bit, both wrapped up in there work, when Peter spoke up, a harsh tone in his voice.

“Can you turn off the music. It’s annoying as hell.”

While he didn’t really consider ‘hell’ cursing, Tony wasn’t used to hearing Peter say it.

“Yeah, of course. Everything okay though?”

“I’m fine,” Peter snapped, turning back to his homework.

The kid was a bit hit or miss when it came to the music playing while he worked, but he always asked politely, knowing that Tony preferred it the other way. Not that Tony minded turning it off for the kid, but still. He decided to ignore the attitude the teenager was showing, for now, but still choosing to pay a bit more attention to Peter working to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

Tony didn’t have to wait long for another mini outburst to happen though. Dum-e had been rolling around, helping Tony with some tools and stuff, but now the robot was just wandering around. He eventually found his way to Peter, trying to get the teenagers attention. Unfortunately for Peter, Dum-e only really understood clear verbal commands, so Peter’s shooing him away and angry mumbles weren’t really doing much. Tony was about to call Dum-e away when Peter beat him to it.

“Go the fuck away!” Peter shouted at the poor robot.

“Hey!” Peter looked back at him, first looking a little taken aback by the shout, then glaring again. Tony was finally done with Peter’s attitude. He was going to get to the bottom of it and now. “First of all, watch the language. Second, that was rude, apologize to Dum-e.”

Peter gave him a look like Tony he had three heads. 

“It’s a robot, and it was annoying and not leaving me alone.”

“And you’ve been rude and coping an attitude since you’ve got here. So apologize to him and tell me why you’re acting this way.” Tony said as he walked to the couch where Peter was sitting. Peter just glared at him, closing his laptop before crossing his arms and glaring forward, refusing to look at Tony. Now it was Tony’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Is it spider-man or something at school? Have you slept and eaten en-”

“Can’t I just be in a shitty mood for no reason!” Peter snapped, turning towards Tony. “I’m a teenager! We’re moody, and can be cranky, and people are allowed to have bad days for no reason! It doesn’t mean something is wrong or that I can’t take care of myself!”

Part of Tony understood what Peter was saying. It could get frustrating when people wouldn’t respect his bad mood. He wanted to dwell, and just accept that bad days sometimes happened for no reason. However, the healthy part of him, the part of him that had gone to a number of therapists throughout the years, currently seeing a therapist regularly, knew that deep down, there was always a reason for a bad day. They don’t just happen because of off days, something is always eating away at a person having a bad day, whether it's conscious or subconscious.

“You’re right, you’re allowed to have a bad day for no reason, but sometimes things exacerbate it, and fixing them can make the day a little less bad. So, first of all, take a deep breath because I am not the enemy here and I will not be talked to that way.” Tony explained calmly. Peter looked like he was about to argue for a moment, but soon turned away from Tony, let out a sigh, and took a few deep breaths. After a couple of minutes, he turned back Tony, look a bit less ready to kill someone.

“Thank you. Now, how much did you sleep last night, and when was the last time you ate.”

“Ummm, I had a toast with peanut butter and banana for breakfast this morning, but I overslept and didn’t have time to make lunch this morning. And I didn’t go to bed until around 4am, so I think I got a bit over three hours of sleep.” Tony had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at his mentee, knowing that wouldn’t help the situation.

“Why didn’t you buy lunch? And why were you even up that late? Was it because of spider-man beca-”

“I haven’t gone on patrol for the past three days.”

That, Tony wasn’t expecting. Peter didn’t go out on patrol every day, but if he missed a day he always went the next day. Three days in a row was a lot for him to skip, not unless there was some outside factor playing into it.

“I’m not grounded or injured or anything,” Peter said before Tony could ask. “I just have this big research paper for English that’s been stressing me out. Like, minimum of 20 pages and 5 academic articles big.”

“Did you procrastinate or something? You’re usually pretty good about that sort of thing.”

“That’s the thing! We only got it a little over a week ago and it’s not even due for over a month! But we have to get our topic approved, and have at least 3 academic articles, and the last day to do all of that is tomorrow.”

“So what’s the problem? There’s plenty of research out there and you love reading journal articles. Why not something on spiders.” Tony was really struggling to see the problem when he knew his kid loved learning things more than any other person he knew.

“It has to be based on a humanities or social science topic. No hard sciences. And I had a topic that my teacher liked, but she said it was way too broad, but now I can’t find enough research to support a smaller topic,” Peter explained, looking close to tears from his frustration, and starting to speak more quickly. “And I was going to go talk to her today during lunch, but she was out so I went to the library to try and work on it some more. But that’s why I haven’t been on patrol because all my time has gone to trying to figure out a smaller topic and I keep changing the topic slightly to try and find enough articles except there’s never enough. And now I’m probably going to get marked down or get detention for not having this part of the assignment turned in and then I’m gonna fall apart on the rest of the paper.”

Tony’s heart wanted to break for the kid. Peter wasn’t one to struggle much academically, so this probably wasn’t something he was used too. But Tony also knew that it wasn’t something that a little problem solving wouldn’t be able to fix.

“Yeah, that sounds frustrating kiddo. Research can be finicky sometimes. What was your original topic on?”

Peter looked at him for a minute, cheeks getting a little pink, and voice just loud enough for Tony to hear.

“The impact of superheroes on society.” Tony wanted to laugh when he heard what Peter said. Not because it was a bad topic, it was actually a very interesting and important topic, especially when they didn’t really exist until about 10 years ago. But Tony definitely saw where his teacher was coming from. That was too big of a topic for any one paper, for a PhD dissertation or a study on it’s own, let alone a 16 year old just trying to write a paper for his AP english class.

“That is a huge topic, buddy. But I can imagine that there isn’t much research on it in general.”

“There’s barely any! And it’s too late to change my topic and it’s really one of the only things I can think of that I’m interested in, and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well the topic hasn’t even been approved so it’s definitely not too late to change the topic, but also I think you have a really interesting topic. Have you talked to your teacher about how you’re struggling with this? Well, actually, first is she an understanding teacher or is she usually more of a stickler for rules and deadlines.” Peter shook his head.

“Nah, she’s really understanding most of the time as long as you haven’t abused her kindness. That’s what I was going to talk to her about today at lunch though, so I could get some help with doing the topic.”

“So assuming you’ve been pretty good in this class and haven’t abused her kindness,” Peter shook his head when Tony gave him a pointed glare, “Then I think we have a good place to start with emailing your teacher and seeing if you can get a bit of an extension. Then we can eat, you can probably take a little nap, and finally, I can help you look for some articles so you can narrow down your topic. And even if we don’t figure out a topic, you should go out on patrol for a little bit tonight. Not long because you haven’t slept enough, but an hour or two won’t kill you, and it’ll be good to release some of the stress instead of just letting it bottle up. How does that sound?”

Peter smiled for the first time that day, making Tony smile as well. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

“Perfect. You get started on that email while I order some pizza.”

[lurkingdorkness]

A Fresh Start

Cloud looked around the empty hallway and finally admitted to himself that he was lost. He had arrived at ShinRa a few days prior and had gotten lost every single day. He was going to be late for his classes and get kicked out. At least one of the instructors was clearly looking for an excuse to kick him out. He’d have to go back to Nibelheim and deal with those assholes who had mocked his dream of being a SOLDIER for years. He could feel his breathing become shorter and his chest tighten as he sunk to the ground. He felt so pathetic, lost in some forgotten hallway and fighting off yet another episode. 

As his vision narrowed, a pair of booted feet appeared in front of him. He looked up to see a black-haired man gazing at him in concern, mouth moving in a question that Cloud was too far gone to hear. The episode rapidly became worse as he looked at those bright blue eyes and realized the man carefully kneeling down was a SOLDIER. Today really couldn't get any worse. He was lost, about to be kicked out, and now he was making a fool of himself in front of one of the very men he had hoped to join. The man's mouth was still moving. Cloud looked away. He didn't need to hear what he said to know he was pitying the idiot cadet having a breakdown. Maybe he was about to get kicked out right here, that would be his luck.

Suddenly, the man reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, and the contact shocked Cloud enough that he could finally hear what the SOLDIER was saying. “Hey, little guy, it's okay, just breathe with me.” Of course, his size was what the giant of a man in front of him noticed. Cloud glowered over this as he followed the exaggerated breathing that the older man was demonstrating. Shockingly enough, it seemed to help, and the tightness in his chest slowly eased. Not that it mattered, Cloud was an idiot and now he'd have to explain to his Ma why he was back after all the trouble he went to just to leave.

“Hey, you feeling better?” Cloud nodded at the question, still upset about the comment on his size, but not wanting to be a jerk when the guy was so concerned for him. A bright smile lit up the man's face, “Great! I'm Zack, what's your name?”

“Cloud Strife, I just got here last week,” the blond replied, ducking his head as the familiar shame of someone seeing him in an episode washed over him. A wave of self-loathing engulfed him. He just wanted to run and hide, but he couldn’t dig this hole any deeper by acting like a child.

*Nice to meet you, Cloud. Are you lost?” Cloud nodded again, and the man laughed. “Oh man, I remember getting so lost when I first came here. At least you didn't end up on the Turk floors. I was in so much trouble for ending up there. Turns out I found a hole in the security and everyone was so mad about it. I thought I was gonna get kicked out!” The man laughed again, such a bright, happy sound. Cloud couldn't help but smile, Zack just seemed to have a joy that was contagious.

“Does that mean I might not get kicked out?” Cloud asked, feeling a bit more hopeful.

“Yeah, don't worry. You aren't late yet, and I'll get you to your classes. Come on, let's go.” Zack said as he popped back to his feet and offered a hand to help him up.

Cloud took it, getting pulled to his feet. “Are you sure? I don't want you to miss something while you're helping me and get in trouble.”

Zack waved his hand dismissively as he started leading him down the hall. “Nah, don't worry about it. I was only down here because I was avoiding my paperwork until my next mission.”

Cloud frowned, “Shouldn't you do that? The instructors are already on us about getting work done promptly.”

“Yeah, I remember that too, but I just can't take being stuck at my desk. I just get way too fidgety when I have to sit for too long. I did not sign up to battle paperwork.” Zack said lightly, flashing a bright grin over his shoulder as he lead Cloud through a series of turns until the younger man finally recognized where he was.

“You still should do it. Oh, I know where we are now, I can find my way from here. You should get your work done.”

Zack whined at that. “Aw, you sure? I don't mind helping you out.”

Cloud huffed, “You're clearly just trying to use me to avoid your work, and I refuse to help you neglect your duties.”

“Aw, fine, I'll be good. I should get that done or Angeal is gonna lecture me.” A noise made Zack pull out his PHS to check it, and he flinched at what he read. “Oof, too late on that front. I need to get going before he drags me back to my office and ties me to the chair. I hope I see you around!” Zack said as he trotted off, waving to Cloud.

“Yeah, thanks for the help again. See you.” Cloud said, as his mind caught on the name of Commander Hewley. Zack must be high up if he knew one of the three strongest men on the Planet. Cloud felt even luckier that he didn't seem bothered by the episode he had seen.

Well, he didn't think it was likely they'd run into each other again. Cloud was just a measly cadet, and ShinRa was huge. The black-haired man probably wouldn't remember him in a week anyway, Cloud wasn't anything special and he knew that.

Cloud found himself proved wrong on his memorability two weeks later when he ran into Zack on his way back from dinner. The SOLDIER spotted him and came over with a big smile on his face.

“Hey, Cloud, right? How are you settling in?”

“Oh, hi, Zack. I'm not getting lost anymore if that's what you were asking.” Cloud replied, reeling at the idea that the man, who he had learned in the time since was Angeal's former mentee, actually remembered him. He even remembered his name! The person who had risen through the ranks at a record-breaking pace actually remembered him! Cloud really hoped his thoughts weren't obvious, he didn't want to come off like some creepy fanboy.

“Glad to hear it, I don't want to get a mission to find a lost chocobo,” Zack replied, laughing at his joke.

Cloud fought down an offended squawk from leaving his throat. “Chocobo?” Oh no, that nickname didn't need to follow him to ShinRa.

“Yeah, all those blond spikes remind me of a chocobo's tail feathers.”

Cloud frowned, really hoping he looked stern and not like he was pouting.  “You aren't the first to call me that, but I still don't like it.”

Zack waved his hand, trying to appease him. “Glad I'm not the only one noticing it. Does it really bother you? ‘Cause I thought it would be a cute nickname for you.”

Cloud's frown deepened. “I don't want people teasing me with that here too. If I get chocobo feathers glued to me one more time I'm going to scream.”

Zack pouted, “Aw, fine. Did someone really glue feathers to you?”

“Yeah, I was the town punching bag back home.” Cloud sighed as he remembered just how bad it was in the tiny village he hailed from.

“Sorry to hear that, dude. Where are you from?” Zack asked, clearly trying to move away from a clearly uncomfortable topic.

Cloud was grateful, even if he still didn’t like thinking about his hometown given how the other villagers felt about him and his family. “Nibelheim, on the Western Continent. Don't worry if you haven't heard of it, it's just a little backwater mountain town.”

Zack perked up at that. “Oh, you're a country boy too! I knew I liked you for a reason. I'm from Gongaga."

Cloud smiled, that explained the faint accent he heard. "You mean you're from the jungle? I don't think I could handle that. I'm not good with heat, I'm too used to the mountain chill."

"Hey, it's not bad if you're used to it. I don't think I could handle freezing my ass off on Mt. Nibel, even with my enhancements." Zack said, rubbing his bare arms against imagined cold.

"The big, bad SOLDIER can't handle the cold? And here I thought you were an elite." Cloud laughed, teasing him.

Zack whined, clutching his chest like he was wounded. "Wow, Cloudy, you don't pull your punches. It's not my fault I'm not meant for the cold. At least I'm not as bad as Genesis, if it's under room temperature, he starts complaining of the cold and bundling up. He acts like he's dying if he's in the snow."

Cloud snorted, "Seriously? I can't believe the second strongest man on the Planet can't handle a little snow."

Zack looked around, then leaned in and whispered, "Between you and me, Genesis is a giant drama queen. He's tough, but he loves bitching about any and everything."

The blond looked at the older man with wide eyes, "I heard he had a temper, but I can't believe he's that dramatic."

"Oh, Gen has a temper for sure, but he's a theater kid at heart. I'm pretty sure that if he wasn't in SOLDIER, he'd be an actor. Or maybe an author, given how much he loves reading." Zack tilted his head, clearly thinking hard about the man's fictional career path. Cloud couldn't believe what he was hearing, particularly with that casual nickname Zack threw in. He really was close with them then, just like the rumors said. This was probably the closest Cloud would ever come to being close to the men he had idolized for so long.

“Are you close with him then?” Cloud really shouldn’t be fishing for gossip, but it’s not like he was ever going to spread it. Besides, he was still enough of a fan of the three most elite warriors on the Planet to want to know everything he could about them.

Zack thought for a moment, clearly trying to decide how much he should tell someone who was a virtual stranger. “You could say that. I met him through Angeal, and he eventually warmed up to me along with Seph. Genesis isn’t a big fan of anyone who takes up the time and attention of his friends, so you have to be patient while he gets his grumping about getting less attention out of his system. He’s kinda like an overgrown cat. Don’t ever say that to his face unless you want him to use you for materia practice though.”

“I doubt I’ll ever speak with him, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Cloud said, trying not to laugh at the mental image of an angry cat lighting impudent cadets on fire.

“I’m guessing you’re a fan of him?”

“Who isn’t when they join up? One of those three is on nearly every recruitment poster ShinRa puts out. I’m not in their fan clubs though, if that’s what you’re asking. They’re a bit too intense for my taste, to put it nicely.” Cloud replied, flinching as he thought of the online forums and how creepy the fans could get on them. He had heard stories of the strange fan letters and gifts the mail department got as well. Dealing with them came up on the punishment roster enough that it was infamous among the cadets.

Zack laughed, shaking his head, “Yeah, they get pretty scary. I feel so sorry for the mail department, ever since that one girl tried mailing herself to Sephiroth. I’m just glad I’m not popular enough yet to get the same thing. I’m pretty sure the PR department is plotting something though, given how I’ve seen some of them eyeing me.”

The cadet flinched in sympathy. “Oof, well, I hope your fan club is more like Angeal’s. I’ve heard they’re a bit saner.”

Zack snorted, “Barely, but maybe I just feel that way since Angeal’s fans tend to approach him more and they tend to want to touch him. Thankfully, they tend not to be too pushy, but there is one who’s related to an executive. She gets handsy. One of us always has to rescue Angeal from her at every function they force him to attend.”

“He is supposed to be the nice one, so I guess I’m not too surprised, but that doesn’t make it okay,” Cloud replied, frowning as he tried to imagine how much it sucked to deal with the fans that came with fame.

Zack sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he recalled a number of incidents he had either witnessed or heard of. “Yeah, no. He hates it, but he can’t do much since her family donates so much. Same with some of Seph and Gen’s biggest stalkers. They basically buy the right to bother them. I mean, Seph’s just tends to hover right next to him, and Gen’s tries to seduce him with rare books.”

Cloud frowned, making a mental note to never bother the three since they clearly dealt with weird fans enough. “That’s awful, I can’t believe the company lets their best SOLDIERs be harassed like that.”

“Well, old man ShinRa loves money more than he fears them after all. He doesn’t think they’ll ever disobey an order. Angeal is too honorable, Seph doesn’t know anything but the company, and Gen would die before he moved back to Banora. They all like their jobs as well, they just don’t like what ShinRa makes them do sometimes.” Zack looked upset at that, and Cloud couldn’t help but feel that the expression didn’t fit on the face of someone as sunny as the SOLDIER was.

“Man, that really isn’t in any of the classes or pamphlets they send out.”

“Nope, they don’t want to scare people off. They don’t need recruits as bad as they did when the war was still going strong, but they still need people to apply since so few are cut out for SOLDIER.” The black-haired man rolled his eyes, clearly not approving of the PR departments choices on what information to give out.

“Ugh, I hope I’m one of them. I’m pretty good, but at least a few instructors think I’m not cut out for it because I’m still so short.” Cloud really needed to get off that topic, he just hoped his transition wasn’t too awkward. His social skills were abysmal since he had spent most of his childhood hiding from others.

Zack latched onto the change of topic, looking him over as he replied. “Height has nothing to do with skill. Genesis didn’t hit his full height until after he was a First, but he still made it.”

“That’s not what some of them think. They really don’t like that I already know how to fight.” Cloud remarked as he thought of the teacher huffing every time he accidentally slipped into the combat stance he had been taught since he was old enough to hold a weapon.

“Oh, you know how to fight?” The older man looked interested at that.

“Yeah, everyone in my family is taught how from as soon as we can manage to hold a weapon without hurting ourselves. It’s an old tradition. I mean, you can’t even leave the village unless you can take down a wolf barehanded.” Cloud responded, waving it off. It wasn’t really a big deal to him, given that he had grown up with the tradition.

“Wait, like a Nibel wolf, like the biggest, scariest wolf around?” Zack asked, shocked.

“Yeah, they’re not that tough if you understand how they behave. The worst part is when you run into a whole pack, but so long as you have a weapon it isn’t too bad. Wolf hunting is traditional for Strifes. I grew up eating wolf, after all, it’s in most of our family dishes.” Cloud said, shrugging and nonchalant.

“Damn, I guess mountain folk are as tough as I heard.” The SOLDIER said, impressed.

Cloud waved it off, trying not to preen under the praise. “Well, not everyone in the village follows the old ways. My family has always been priests for the god of battle, so we work with different rules.”

“So you’re religious?” He seemed tenser at that, not that Cloud could figure out why.

“Well, yeah, I follow our gods as anyone dedicated to them should. It’s my duty to be a powerful warrior.” Cloud shrugged again, used to the expectations he had grown up under.

“So that’s why you want to join SOLDIER?” Zack asked, curious.

“Yeah, along with wanting to be like my heroes.” The blond ducked his head a bit, face red as he got as close to his ridiculous crushes as he was willing to discuss.

“Ah, same. I joined up after seeing all those posters of Seph. Bit awkward once I met him, but I got over it quickly.” Zack smiled, chuckling a bit at the memories.

“Yeah, I grew up on stories of heroism and I want to be as brave and strong as them. I like helping people, and I can’t stand seeing people in trouble or hurt and not being able to help. I just care too much.” Cloud said, remembering not to dig about any of the three leaders of SOLDIER.

“I’m not gonna lie, that’s gonna make it hard for you to deal with seeing everything that can go wrong on a mission. But, I will say that it’s good that you care that much. That attitude is what Angeal looks for when he’s recommending people to advance. Just don’t let it get you killed young, I’ve seen that happen a few too many times now.” Zack told him, frowning as he remembered lost comrades.

“I can focus, don’t worry. My mother trained me well.” The blond said, thinking back on the many years his mother taught him how to survive and fight.

Zack tilted his head, thinking for a moment before his head snapped up as an idea occurred to him. “You know, I’m curious about what you can do. Maybe I can give you some pointers to help you out in class.”

“Like, training? Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Cloud was wary, he didn’t need any more obstacles given how it already felt like his instructors were looking for any chance to kick him out.

“Nah, it’s not, I won’t let you get in trouble. I’ve got a friend who is interested in traditional Nibel martial arts, and I want to see what you can do before I let him know.”

“Hm, all right, I just don’t want to get singled out any more than I already am.”

Zack smiled brightly. “I’ll keep you safe little buddy, don’t worry. Why don’t we meet up tomorrow after dinner and you can show me what you can do?”

Cloud smiled and nodded. “Sure, anywhere we should meet?”

“Meet me outside the elevators near the cadet gym.”

Cloud nodded, “Okay, it’s a plan. I really should get going. I’ve still got homework to finish.”

“Yeah, don’t let me keep you. See you tomorrow!” Zack said, as he waved and headed off towards the elevators.

Cloud’s smile didn’t fade as he walked back to his room. He might have just made his first friend here.

[realrealguylin]

2020 Reflections/Updates

Missions

I did a one week mission trip to Jordan in the start of 2020. I’ve sent out a prayer update letter about that before, please let me know if you want to read it!

Work

Work has been a wild ride over the course of 2020.

After I returned from my Jordan missions trip in the first week of February, there was a flurry of things that happened, so I will try to recount them.

One of my coworkers/supervisors/friends had some tense moments with our director while I was on a trip. This director was actually a substitute director because our actual director was on another project. So she didn’t really have a working relationship with my friend.

Once I got back, the tense moments continued and there was a lot of misunderstandings or just blowing things out of proportion in peoples’ own minds.

This led to my friend resigning from the job. He was able to find work with his mom’s startup/research.

My friend had previously told his mom about working with me, what we do, and I guess this left a strong impression on her about my skills because she called me one time to ask if I wanted a position with her. This was very out of the blue because I wasn’t necessarily looking for another job, I felt comfortable where I was but after my friend left and I was left to work with our sub director, I also personally did not like the direction of the management.

I prayed about it and talked with some people and decided that taking this new position was an open door that God was giving to me.

Currently I work for a startup called Mood Lifters. https://moodlifters.com/ You can read more about it, but we like to call it “Weight Watchers for mental health.” My boss, who is my friend’s mom, is also a professor at UM and developed this program as part of her research. My salary is funded by grants from the UM, actually, as this startup is in partnership with UM for research purposes (so I get health benefits, which I didn’t at my old job).

What I do for the startup is that I manage the data. Considering this is partially research there’s a lot of data. Demographic data, data from surveys our participants take, feedback comments, etc. I put them in a database which I had to develop from scratch, and I help manage the app we contracted a company design. I pull the data when needed and analyze it for my boss when requested. Usually this data is for presenting at presentations she gives or grant requests she is writing. I am the only person doing this, so it’s an important role.

My experience at this job has had its ups and downs. The very first week I started was the first week of quarantine in Michigan... so that was an interesting leg to start on. So I had to get used to working remotely on top of meeting my coworkers and learning the systems we were working with. I also had no idea what I was doing because there was no previous data manager to tell me the state of things so as I said, I was developing everything from scratch, which is what I signed up for.

So there were definitely learning moments - times I made mistakes with the data, times where I wasn’t working at the pace my boss expected (apparently her expectations are so high even her PHD mentees get scared of her), and slow times where I didn’t have much to do. But I learned from these moments and I’m especially thankful for our Science Officer, who is basically my working supervisor. She’s a recent PHD, very chill, and very understanding. We can’t work in the same office, but she’s more on the grounds and I feel like I can have those “quick office meetings” with her. At this point, I’ve reached a good, working rhythm for my role.

So as it is now February, my funding for 1 year was about to expire. It’s actually crazy to me that’s it already been almost a year and that I lasted this long, because there were points in the summer where I definitely felt like I’d get fired because of the difficulties, but praise God we’re here. So this past week I emailed my boss to start the conversation about what will happen going forward - is there more funding or if not, when will I end? To my surprise, my boss called me 5 minutes later saying she already begun the process of getting more funding and I have been approved for at least 6 months, it not more! She also commented that I’ve been doing a good job and that my supervisor really enjoys working with me. All I can say is that I’m thankful that I’ve gotten to this point, because it wasn’t easy and I can’t say that I’m doing a perfect job but I’m thankful because God got me here. I would have never imagined I’d be at a different job a year ago, but this is the story of my life - God always provides at just the right time. I actually found out that at my old job, they started furloughing people due to covid and my position would have been on that list, so I would’ve been unemployed. God always knows best!

Church

Our church has been virtual ever since quarantine started in Michigan. There was a short spurt where we tried to be in person, but for the safety and love of our congregation, we’ve been sticking to virtual. It’s definitely not the same to be virtual, but I do think it challenges us to rework our standards. Church is not just a building after all, and it reminds me of how the early church in Acts was scattered from persecution, so they were physically apart, but the church multiplied, actually, because everyone had different spheres of influence. More on this thought in a second.

At this point last year I wasn’t leading a Life Group. I was just a member, trying to get adjusted to our single adult ministry but still on the Executive Team of our church. I was considering what to do in terms of renewing commitments etc but didn’t feel like I had any convictions yet. That changed one night. Another leader in our church randomly messaged me about how in their LG, a senior was sharing about their plans after graduation. They planned to move back to their home country and pursue their passions of outreach ministry. What does this have to do with me? Well it turns out, I was the person who suggested to them to explore this passion through our Outreach Team in our church because I was the person who was assigning his ministry team in our church. I’ve actually never had a LG with this senior and have had no significant conversations with him since that initial assignment, but even just from that one encounter, it’s changing the course of his life. The leader encouraged me that non of my ministry efforts were in vain. This “random” message really sparked something in me. It reminded me of the joys of discipleship, of walking together with people, and seeing them grow in their talents and passions - having front row seats. And, having a year off from leadership - I really missed having the platform to do that. Not to say you can’t do that without a title, but the platform gives you moments like this. And so I decided I want to commit to that, through our church again. So I’m a LG leader again, in the Focus ministry.

Starting in May 2020, I’ve been leading LGs. For this calendar year, we are doing split gender groups, remotely. It’s definitely... different than what I’ve experienced in the past. I’ve found myself having to really stretch my creative juices to think of ways to foster community in remote ways. So now we do things like virtual birthdays, or group watch parties for Sunday Celebration to simulate “going” together, or having dinner together remotely.

I’ve had a LG in the Summer and one in the Fall. Based on what I shared previously, I really wanted to be involved in people’s lives and their growth. I think Covid has definitely been a hindrance to this, but in addition to that, it looks different with working adults as opposed to college students. It’s true what they say: college is a formative time in someone’s life. They’re still learning about themselves, and figuring who they want to be in this life. So as a leader, you get to see that grow and develop. Post-grad (for most of my members) though, people have gone through that already. Especially in our Focus ministry, where I deem it as a “transition” time for a lot of people. A lot of them are waiting... waiting to get into grad school, waiting for a better job, waiting to move, waiting to get married. But what does it look like to be faithful, now? We actually had a whole Bible study series over the summer about this. All this to say, I’m still trying to figure it out for myself, and then also how to lead others in this stage of life.

I will say, one joy and privilege I do get, is I’ve been paired with various co-leaders who are leading for the first time. Being able to pour in years of experience into them has been very rewarding. Also you get to see potentially a different side to some of them, or you see the talents that God has given them that they might not see for themselves. I even got to lead with someone I discipled while he was an undergrad, and now we’re both in this working adult life stage - God is faithful!

Home Life

Not really sure what to call this miscellaneous section, but I’ll just call it my “home life.”

I believe in my last update I talked about moving off-campus. My roommates and I found a place (basically) across the street and moved again in May. We each have our own room now, and the place is quite spacious. I personally don’t have any problems with having a roommate, but the others wanted their own space. This is my first (?) time not having a roommate, actually. I understand why people like it so much. You can go to sleep and wake up whenever you want without disturbing someone and you can keep the room as clean or as dirty as you want. Also we each get our own bathroom so that’s comfy, too.

Like many others, I have been working from some since quarantine started. I’ve set up a desk near the living room. I just enjoy being out there as opposed to being cooped up in my room. It’s brighter, more lively, and I get to see the roommates past by once in a while. The only downside is if I have a meeting at night - I have to move to my room with no desk to answer the Zoom call.

My roommates have been working from home too. It’s a stark contrast against when all three of us would be commuting to work. It feels like instead of having lived with them for 2 years, It’s been 10 years. When you see a person not just everyday, but many hours per day, you’ve accelerated the timeline. I’m thankful for that, though, because who knows when they’ll move so getting time to get to know them now is a silver lining while being forced to work from home.

At first, when you work from home, it feels like a gift.. but then soon you realize if you don’t set limits for yourself, “home” will always feel like a potential arena for “work” and then you never really leave mentally.. It’s a good test of work-life balance. I think I’ve gotten into a decent routine and have a rough schedule everyday so I can be consistent and when I “get off” work, I’m mentally relaxed.

Outside of working and online church, I don’t do much. There are literally spans of 4-5 days, up to a week, where I don’t set foot outside. And then I’ll go out to drive my car for something and it hits me “wow, this is my first time outside in a week.” I’ve been watching a lot of anime shows with my roommate. This is a rough list of everything I’ve ever watched, some within the last year as well as my current watches https://myanimelist.net/animelist/linguy?status=2.

I’ve also been playing a lot of video games, I made a list here as well... https://howlongtobeat.com/user?n=GeneralTso&s=games&completed=1

Every few weeks I visit my mom since my weekends aren’t occupied with going to church. She’s doing well, she works part time at a restaurant, and it’s all takeout. Im working on getting her scheduled for a vaccine.

On the Horizon

This would be the section where I put things I look forward to... but it’s hard to make any long term plans for now.

I guess... I’m looking forward to the day when I can start looking forward to things- when we can start planning trips, we can freely watch movies in theaters, or have birthday parties, or eat restaurants.

Until then, I’m just being faithful with what I have.

Prayer Requests

Pray for our return to normalcy.

Pray for vision for the future. I know of some friends who are going to various countries to do missions for a short-term and thinking about doing that lights a fire under me to not just settle but keep fanning the flame.

Pray for peace. Recently I feel like God is giving me peace about just where I’m at in life, but it’s still very easy to compare life circumstances with others around my age. I want to believe that I’m right where God wants me to be.

Thanks for reading so far! Here are some pictures I dug up

Christmas Hot Pot!

Some of us in Focus did shopping for to partner with a charity

“Socially distant” LG Close Outs

Covid Birthday Parties

[mitchellatrest]

Saturday Chats - Josh & Mitchell

When: 2/25/2017, evening

Where: The SpoonRest, Tahoe City, CA

What: A discussion between Mentor and Mentee

Mitchell looked at the fire in the lounge, watching the flames for a moment before flicking his eyes to the clock on the wall. Five pm and all was quiet, the two bookings off on their own. He'd had Josh in the kitchen most of the morning, prepping on this and that. And then had walked him through the process of menu setting and the order sheets he kept. Running the business was more than just the food after all. He sighed. "Josh? Do come sit down. There's nothing more to do today," he said with a flourish of his hand, moving towards the bar cart and plucking a bottle of red and a glass, moving to open and pour. "Care for a splash? No institute here to say no," he asked when his charge entered the room.

Josh had enjoyed all the movement of the morning, setting ready the menu along with Mitchell and now, he was finishing to set the containers in the fridge when he heard the professor calling him over. With his usual bright smile he untied his apron and set it aside before joining his boss in the lounge. “After the two very busy weekends we had, this one seems oddly calmed,” he said as he sat down and nodded at the offer “Yes, please. I think just one drink would be nice.”

Mitchell flashed the young man a smile, pouring out a second glass and handing it over as he circled around. "Excellent choice. A little blend I keep just for the easy drinking. Nothing fancy, but it's tasty." He settled into a chair, holding up his glass in salute. "Here's to us, Josh. We survived the last few weeks. Now, we do maintenance till the next holiday," he said with a teasing smile. A slow sip and a sigh, he let his eyes close for a few moments, basking in the warmth of the fire, the wine, and the company. "So how do you find it, working here under my unflinching thumb?"

Josh accepted the glass with a courteous nod and tipped his glass at the salute. He smelled the wine before taking a small sip. He smiled brighter at the professor when he explained “Is it floral or frutal?” he asked curiously since he was aware that Mitchell had an extensive knowledge about wines. “Is the next holiday spring break or is it calmer by then? I heard there will be a trip for everyone at Mousai for that week.” Josh took another small sip before answering “In all honestly, I’m loving it, but I did not think it would be so tiring,” he answered bashfully “But I am learning so much that is more than worth it.”

Mitchell gave an approving hum, flashing him a grin. "Fruit forward, most definitely. Notice how the sugars just sit on the front of your tongue a bit?" He swirled the glass slowly, humming. "The next big national holiday is absolutely Memorial day. But we've some bookings in late April that will start the summer season: spring break is exactly it." He arched an eyebrow and grinned. "There should be, if I remember correctly. We'll see if I'm able to go." He laughed, shaking his head and reaching up to loosen his tie. He'd reached the end of what he planned to do today anyway. "I'm very glad that you're enjoying it and that you're seeing it's a bit of a gut punch," he replied, a little smile flickering across his lips. "Now that is music to my ears. I hope it's not skewering your social life?"

Josh smiled and took another sip to try to notice the flavor as Mitchell had said “That is true, I can taste it now you mentioned it and I paid more attention.” The mention of the holiday had him slapping his forehead “That is true! I need to refamiliarize with our holidays here. I had spent too much time focused on other holidays than my brain only remembers the ones we have in common here and in Mexico,” he explained with an apologetic smile. “That means we will have a lot of work again soon,” he considered the idea with an excited demeanor. “If you need me to stay and help here, I have no problem with doing so,” Josh offered seriously. He nodded and grinned and the comment from the professor “I like challenges. It’s a great way to test my limits and set new goals for me and how to work for them.” A small blush spread on his face at the mention of his social life, his thoughts going immediately to two very attractive photographers. “No, not at all. I am not a very social person, and I still have time to spend it with friends.”

Mitchell laughed lightly. "Unless you want to go into professional wine tasting, the grid is useless. And too formulaic for my mind." He could hear his friend in New York calling him a philistine from here. Josh's reaction made him smile and he shifted his glance, watching the young man with kind eyes. "Ah yes, I'd grab a calendar. And familiarize yourself. Or look at the one I've got in the office. It shows booking too." He arched an eyebrow and shook his head. "You're asking to work more? How insane is that Josh! But if you want to see what goes into some Guinness Stew, we'll be doing that and mash for St. Patrick's." He laughed, shaking his head and stretching out into a luxurious sprawl in his chair. "Oh you might not be social, but you are definitely enjoying someone's society. Or has the wine gone to your face already?" he teased, pointing at the young man.

Josh smiled and shook his head “I don’t really think I would be good at wine tasting,” he said honestly. “I’m going to do that, I really need to remember the important dates here,” he agreed “I will certainly check the one you have, it will give me a better idea of how I’ll handle the holidays here. Is not that I’m asking to work more. I’m offering my help for a busy season,” he finished with a bright smile. When Mitchell called him out on the blush in his face he closed his eyes and let his head hang down slightly, feeling caught. After a small silence, he looked up again to answer “Is not the wine,” he smiled. “I’m just trying to make friend and get to know some people better,” he confessed simply.

Mitchell chuckled and shrugged. "It's a skill I never cultivated. I like tasting what I like, and matching it with food. But I don't believe in the rigors. I've friends that do." He laughed, thinking of his friend back in Manhattan before focusing back on Josh. He nodded slowly, listening as the younger man talked about the holidays and the rush. He hummed. "Well then, who am I to turn down such an energetic young pupil and protégé? Or the help. Heaven know's I like the extra competent hands." He smiled and shook his head, sitting forward and leveling him a careful glance. "Josh, that is utterly nothing to fret over. Enjoy it. Revel in the attention. Or the affection. Or the physical altercations. Whatever gets you there." He flashed the man a quick wink. "I know I enjoy those diversions."

Josh nodded “I suppose it’s even more impressive to make the wine match the food and it sounds more accurate for the business you settled here.” He wasn’t expecting the professor’s words, and even les to know he considered him his protégé “I certainly appreciate all the faith you have in me and my abilities. I would be more than glad to stay and help as much as possible. And I must say is not completely selfless. I am learning a lot. There’s no better reward than that,” he smiled. Josh sighed and offered a shy smile “I know. It’s just that I don’t want to get too distracted.” The blush caused him to blush once more “I suppose we all do. Things are just not as simple as I would hope for them to be.”

Mitchell chuckled and nodded, swirling his glass and catching the light from the lamps in the liquid. "It's a skill, to be sure. Goes into anything tasting really. I tend to prefer cocktails." He watched Josh, tilting his head and keying onto the excitement and honesty in the student's voice. He smiled, ducking his head a bit bashfully. He rather liked when people had this much enjoyment from the work, so it was refreshing to know he wasn't wrong. "So long as you don't mind being challenged, I'm happy to keep pushing you." He nodded and winked again, pulling an ottoman from under his chair and kicked it into place gently, stretching out and giving a little laugh. "Simple? Oh my dear boy, it's never simple. Run with it I suppose. Though I'm hardly one to emulate." He shrugged and smiled. "Hardly one..."

Josh nodded “I think I have a lot to learn about that. I’m not that good with cocktails, or drinks in a different setting that is not merely recreational.” Josh was glad to see Mitchell seemed glad to accept his offer to work during the spring break since he wasn0t really looking forward to join the trip he hard was on the planning for all the students. “I’m not afraid to be challenged. How else will I push myself to be better if not that way,” he agreed. Josh placed the glass on the coffee table and sat back, taking a deep breath “I know things aren’t simple, but I think I had enough of complicated. I wanted something different this time, but I suppose I’m looking in the wrong place and perhaps this isn’t the best time for me either.”

Mitchell grinned lightly and shrugged. "To be honest, most chefs have a beverage manager of somm to handle that side of things. But others like that aspect as well." He nodded, giving him a careful glance and smiling, enjoying his spirit and his drive as much as his smile. "Then I'll be more than happy of the help. Maybe we can let you set the entree for dinner that week?" he said with a teasing little smile. It was time for him to start working on that aspect of things as well, at least in Mitchell's mind. "Hm. I can understand that feeling. Sort of. Complicated is always best left to the side. Do you feel like it's detracting from your work here? This...complicated entanglement."

Josh hummed and considered he idea for a moment “I shall pay attention to my classmates then, perhaps I could find a good beverage manager among them.” Josh’s practically beamed at the suggestion “Would you really trust me with the menu for the week?” the exciting pouring from him to the point he was sitting at the edge of the couch now. Josh nodded, thankful that Mitchell seemed to understand sometimes complicated wasn’t fun or meant things were worth to fight for. He shook his head to the question “No, not at the moment. But I’m not sure how it will be once midterms and finals get closer. I don’t mind focusing on my internship and my classes, but I’m not sure how they would take it.”

Mitchell hummed, downing the last of his wine slowly and letting it sit on his tongue. He flashed the young man a pleased smile and nodded. "Not a bad idea at all. One of those culinary miscreants might be best at that." He laughed and shook his head at the excitement, giving a dramatic little shake of his empty glass. "I think it's something to think about. Look at some breakfasts to put in place and a Friday night dinner. Start thinking on it, yes? So that we can make the necessary purchases." He shrugged at the latter part, Josh's statement sounding very similar to one he made some time ago. "Ah...yes well. It's a value statement, isn't it? What you want. If they don't respect that?" He shrugged again. "Well those things are best left on the side of the road."

Josh chuckled “now that you put it like that, I have a couple of options already.” This was a great opportunity and Josh was decided to make the best out of it, so he nodded as he started to run some ideas in his head of what could work better. “I will do so! I can settle menu options for Thursday for you to check them, if that’s okay.” Josh took a deep breath and nibbled at his lip as he usually did when he was confused or nervous. “Is not that I don’t think they won’t respect it. I think they might feel I’m pushing them away or that this is just a game for me. To get their attention, and it’s not.” Josh kept quiet for a moment. “What would you suggest? Should I stop seeing them altogether and focus on what’ matters the most to me, or should I try and explain them the situation?”

Mitchell laughed, shaking his head and reaching for the bottle. "There's always a few, even in places like this without anything near an alcohol program." He snickered, watching the young man, listening as he could practically hear the gears turning in Josh's head. "Absolutely. I'm happy to listen and offer suggestions as best that I can. Use what we have here as well. Let's not double order anything eh?" He tilted his head and listened, pausing as he poured another glass before pursing his lips in thought. "That's a new one on me, Josh. Why would they think it's a game? Or you pushing away?" He shrugged and made a little frown, tapping his glass. "Honestly? I'd figure out what matters most, absolutely. Once you have that, you approach the person different, I believe. If it's more than one person that is." He paused. "I can be more specific, if I know some personality details, my dear."

Josh smiled “I might ask for your opinion once I’ve decided on the candidates,” he said solemnly. “Of course, I’ll make sure to check the refrigerators before looking for ideas,” he assured. One of the main things Josh had learned at home was to never waste any food. Josh felt a rush of blood coloring his cheeks again when he realized what he had said “I don’t know.” He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, considering the professor’s words while he decided if he could say more without getting anyone in troubles. “The most important thing for me right now are my studies. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to have someone to share all this experience with,” he paused and sighed. “It is more than one person. I have been seeing two guys, neither of them know there is someone else, and one of them doesn’t seem to care, but the other seems to want to be more serious about this. For me is a casual thing because I don’t think I’m ready nor have the time for something more than just hang out for now.” Josh couldn’t believe he was telling that to his boss, but he didn’t really regret it. It was just then when he realized he had needed to talk about it to feel the weight lifted off his shoulders.

Mitchell smiled and nodded. "You're always entitled to it, that I promise." He watched the young man go through the elation and thinking and then the blush. He held out the bottle, glass in his other hand. "Top off darling, you look conflicted. Wine helps with that." He let his face fall neutral, his gaze thoughtful as the young man spoke, laying out his thoughts and wants. He hummed lightly, and nodded. "I'd never begrudge anyone a bit of solace, someone to share with. So let's start with that being perfectly healthy and damn good." He nodded and motioned with his glass. "But you can share without it being exclusive. Frankly, I'm impressed you've got two boys wrapped around your fingers. And I applaud you knowing that it's what you want, and all you can handle right now." He chuckled. "If one of them wants more...then maybe it's the one that gets it that should get more of you?" He shrugged and sipped his wine. "Though you should really not pay any sort of attention to my advice there."

Josh nodded with a thankful smile “I certainly appreciate it, Mitchell, thank you.” Josh picked up his glass and accepted the refill. He drank a small sip as he listened carefully to what the older man had to say. A small nod followed the first statement “That’s what I thought at first. To spend time with them without making anything exclusive.” The second statement caused him to blush harder, even more when he well knew they weren’t exactly just two young students as Mitchell made it sound, but he chose not to correct him. “I am not sure I’m ready for more and I told him that. He said he understood, but I did notice a change after we talked. I didn’t want to make him feel rejected, but I know I can’t get more involved now.” Josh let out a small sigh “I appreciate the advice. I haven’t talked to anyone about this, and I hadn’t realized how much I needed to let it out.”

Mitchell joined the chat 2 days ago

Mitchell gave him a roguish wink. "Here I am, the terror of the administration. Providing drink and romantic advice." He snorted lightly. "I've never understood what precisely motivates some people to think that they get a monopoly of their partner's time. You can work as a unit and still be two very independent soul. I mean, really, I'll need separate bedrooms should I ever decide to settle down. My own Victorian ideal." He snorted lightly, smiling at the blush. "Oh so it's a good couple of boys then. Further impressed." He chuckled under his breath and nodded. "I'm happy to listen, anytime. And Josh? Honestly? It sounds like you did the right thing for you." He raised his glass in approval and sipped slowly. It sounded like one of Josh's suitors was...well Mitchell would have to reserve judgment.

Josh let out a small laugh “If you’re as good adviser as you are a successful administrator, I think I will be more than fine after this conversation,” said Josh with a smile as he took another sip form his glass of wine. He listened carefully, considering what would he do if he found himself in that kind of monopolizing relationship. Another soft laugh escaped his lips at the mention of separate bedrooms “I certainly hope you find someone who understand your schedules so you don’t have to resource to that. It could totally ruin the possibility for cuddles and late night talks. If you’re interested in those, if not, then it might work perfectly,” he ended with a smile. “I think they both are good and very mature men,” he said with a cautious tone. “May I ask why are you impressed about it?” Josh felt slightly proud to hear Mitchel approved his decision, it made him feel he had done the right things and until this moment he hadn’t found someone he thought he could rely on to ask for advices or talk about his decisions “Thank you, Mitchell. It helps to hear someone else thinks I did the right thing.”

Mitchell smirked and preened just a bit under the young man's praise. "Then I will have done my job as well as I could have hoped." He chuckled, shaking his head and motioning with his glass. "It's not just about schedules. It's about having a place to be alone with one's self. I find that a necessary withdraw every so often. Though I do rather like the late night chats. And the back rubs I get when there's a warm body in my bed." He flashed a little grin. Mature men? Well that was an interesting statement, to be sure. "Because you're going after things you want. I find too few people actually do that." He shrugged again, his smile turning a little lecherous. "That and the fact that I'm all about having options in one's entanglements."

Josh nodded and offered a smile “I am sure you will.” Josh considered the man’s words and he realized he agreed. That was perhaps one of the many reasons why his past relationships hadn’t work. He certainly enjoyed the solitude from time to time. He relished in having time of his own to think and reflection on memories or future’s plans. “I do see the appeal on having time for one’s self. I must admit I haven’t gotten the chance to enjoy the comfort of sharing my bed with someone like that yet, but that makes it even more alluring” he confessed with a small blush. The blush didn’t vanish when the professor expressed his reason to be impressed in Josh’s decisions “I suppose few people believe they can have what they want if the work hard for it,” said the boy with a shy smile. “Well, I must admit this is the first time I find myself in a situation like this and I am still struggling to find a way to handle it.”

Mitchell grinned. "You've already much of my approval, Josh. No need for flattery," he teased with another wink. He nodded as his pupil's look and thoughts, a soft little smile flickering across his lips. He liked these moments of discovery. "I think it's necessary. Relationships are about compromise, but not whole sale change. You complement each other. Or should." He flashed another lecherous grin. "Oh ho, have you not? My my, but I do hope you jump on that eventually. And I do mean that literally." He gave a laugh, a bit more open and bawdy than he usually did, relishing the flush across his cheeks. He snorted out of amusement. Handle indeed. "That one is up to you, my dear. Depends how involved and how handled you want to be."

Josh shook his head with a smile “It’s not flattery, is honesty,” he assured as he drank some more wine, feeling more relaxed and certainly enjoying this time of getting to talk to the professor in a less formal setting. “I agree, unfortunately it is not as easy to find someone to make it work with. I suppose things happen at the right time,” said Josh with a soft shrug. The grin and the tone caused him to look away and smile “That won’t be an easy task here. I have a very particular roommate. Bringing someone to my room is not an option at all. And I doubt is an option for anyone living on campus,” the blush on his face feeling quite permanent now. “Right now, I think going at this pace works. Neither of them is demanding more time or attention and I have my hands full to even think of ask them for more time.”

Mitchell laughed merrily, enjoying the back and forth he was sharing with Josh. The young man was excellent company and was more than good conversation. Plus, it was nice to have that injection of youth into his atmosphere. "You are all too true in that part my friend. It's a search, isn't it?" He smirked and sipped from his glass, arching an eyebrow. "Oh yes, Mr. Easton Kennedy. He's a man with opinions, isn't he?" Several thoughts flickered through his mind. Someone looking for privacy and discretion on campus? Well that gave him some ideas. He huffed out a little laugh, and shook his head. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not at all. I did promise you'd get your time working here." He hummed and shrugged slowly. "Though if you ever do need to swap nights for a bit of a date, I think we could arrange that."

Josh let out a small sigh “It is, and it doesn’t seem to get easier. But I believe that is what make it worth it. When things are easy one tends to lose interest quickly.” He wasn’t surprised Mitchell knew about Easton’s opinions. His roommate was always loud and clear about everything. “He is. He is a good guy, he just has strong believes on certain subjects. Things work well for us as roommates, I would hate to disrupt that harmony. No sleepovers for me for a while,” Josh added with a playful pout. Josh shook his head immediately “I wasn’t complaining! I’m very thankful for this opportunity. It gives me time to think and slow things down,” he hurried to say. “Thank you, I appreciate that. So far things work well. Having Fridays off and not early call on Saturday morning help a lot.”

Mitchell hummed lightly. "You have to make it your own as best you can, Josh. But you'll find that balance, I'm sure." He smirked. "Oh the easy ones are only good for a few throws. Then it's boring." He burst out laughing again, the description of the other young man right on the nose. He rolled his eyes at the pout and raised his glass. "Perhaps if you ask nicely I might have an idea of a place." He smirked and held up a hand in peace. "Only teasing Josh, only teasing. Though the night you do dinner service, you'll have to work that Friday, but I'll give you the rest of the weekend off."

Josh only nodded and didn’t comment more about his frustrating experience with relationships until now. The following statement caused him to smile again “I know, and those are usually not what we’re really looking for,” he agreed. “Thank you, I’ll make sure to ask nicely if the opportunity presents,” he answered with a teasing smile. “I have no problem working that Friday and the weekend. Especially if it is for Spring break. I have no plans and I’m sure everyone else will either go on the institute trip or somewhere else.”

Mitchell hummed lightly, a tuneless sound as he stretched, his eyes falling closed. He shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. The passing fancies are nice distractions from the day to day. And do work the muscles." He huffed out a laugh. "That offer isn't for everyone. I'm not running a bordello you know," he replied with another teasing lilt, but smiled, glad he could offer this young man something in that department. IT sounded complicated enough as it was. "Well let's not work you to all the bones, but if you insist. Who am I to be stingy with offered labor."

Josh set his almost empty glass on the coffee table and leaned back, feeling the wine helping him relax. “But after a while it gets boring. It is a great stress reliever but, it’s not enough.” He couldn’t help to laugh too when Mitchell did and cleared out he was indeed offering a room in the Inn “I know, that makes me appreciate the offer even more. But I doubt thing will get to that point any time soon.” Josh wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get that involved with either Eric or Beau and he tried his best not to think about it, even if he wanted to. “I do insist because I know I might be asking for some days off once midterms and finals arrive. I might need time then and I would rather to work now I don’t have so much schoolwork.”

Mitchell gave a little laugh. "You're not wrong." This was the most he'd laughed in days, or even weeks really. It was relaxing and filled him with a certain level of comfort. He flashed the young man a grin, draining his glass and setting it to the side. "Good. Or not good. Or...oh you know what I mean," he said with a little laugh. Whatever or whomever the boy wanted to do was his own business. He'd had his say on that so far, best to let it go. For now at least. "Oh I'd never presume to let this interfere with your school work. At all." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Why not stay here? We can make up a room and you can see what a full week is like. Right down to the laundry."

Josh felt his whole face flushing this time, it was probably the wine, the laughing, and the fact that he was technically talking about his sex life with his boss and professor. “I know what you meant. It’s okay,” he said looking for something else to say and change the subject. “I know, and I appreciate it, but I was just considering that I might be able to come and help those days so I could make it up.” The idea sounded very tempting and it would surely give Josh more time to learn how the B&B worked from a different perspective “That sounds like a great idea. I would love to.”

Mitchell grinned and nodded, glad that Josh could pick up his drift rather easy. That was the sign of a good working relationship, and one that he was looking forward to expanding upon. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Your work ethic is impressive, I'll give you that," he said with a little smile. He nodded, and waved his hand. "You can thank me now. But just wait till I'm waking you up at five am to start the breakfasts for special guests."

Josh was glad to hear that Mitchell sounded pleased with his offer to work harder and learn as much as possible, “Thank you. My mother always taught me to work hard. She said the only way to get what you want is working for it and I know I want to learn as much as I can while I’m here.” He didn’t let the mention of the early hour affect him “I don’t mind waking up early and since I would stay here so I won’t lose time commuting.”

Mitchell nodded, a pleased smile on his face. "Sounds like a very smart lady. Mine was similarly motivated. A strong work ethic was one of the greatest things she ever gave me. That and a tolerance for peppers." He hummed and leaned forward, giving a slow nod. "Right then. We'll ask for permission from the administration at Mousai and get you a room made up. Maybe you need a chef's coat as well," he quipped with a little smile. Every intern had been given one with the ornate spoon on left breast, a sign of their time at the Rest.

Josh grinned “I suppose all mothers are very smart, but it takes us a while to realize how much. Oh! I envy you! The tolerance for Peppers took me longer that I would’ve liked,” he said with a grimace. It was hard to hide his excitement at the prospect to get to see the full function of the Inn “Okay, that sounds great. I can talk to the Headmistress as soon as I get a chance and ask about it.” Josh frowned slightly “Is there any problem with my chef’s coats?” he asked confused.

Mitchell chuckled. "It took me much longer than your years to learn that. Good for you to pick it up so quickly," he replied with a wistful tone to his voice. "Did it? I find that there can be so much variance in the way different heats come out in the food. Rather like it, when my clientele can take it." He hummed and smiled at his excitement, shaking his head and moving to stand. "Well none of them say the SpoonRest on them, do they?" he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Josh chuckled “It wasn’t easy at all and just as you mentioned! Heat can be an important factor when it’s about pepper.” He smiled even though the memories weren’t so pleasant. His poor tongue and stomached paid for it more than once. The simple mention to have a chef’s coat that would notice him as part of the staff caused him to beam at the professor “They don’t. Am I really getting one?” he asked excitedly.

Mitchell laughed and nodded, giving the young man a little and significant glance. "Oh absolutely. I completely agree. Though I'm rather fascinated with the dried peppers and oil infusions from Sichuan province." His family had no ties to that region, not as far as he knew at least, but the style of cooking was delicious. He smirked, and nodded. "Oh I think so. Get me your size and I'll make sure you have one by the end of March."

Josh offered a lopsided smile as his expression turned curious “I got some experience with dried peppers and oil infusion in Mexico, but now I’m very curious about the ones you mention. Could you tell me more about them? I’m afraid I’ve never tried them.” Little Josh could do to stop smiling at the news. He loved the idea of being considered part of the staff and wear one of the coats the other chefs and Mitchell wore. “Thank you. I certainly appreciate it. I’ll get you my size before leaving.” It probably wasn’t a big deal, but someone who always had troubles feeling like he fit in, this was a great gesture. “I really appreciate it, Mitchell, thank you.”

Mitchell hummed lightly and gave a slow smile. "Oh absolutely. Sichuan peppercorns are fantastically spicy. And traditionally, they're infused into the oil before the vegetables or the meat is added, putting the flavor right on the exterior of the food. It's quite...intense at times." He chuckled lightly. "I think we have some up at Mousai. I think we might need an experiment with them," he said with a smile. He gave a little hum at the young man's smile and excitement. "It's my pleasure. I figured your Mousai whites were all well and good, but you needed to rep your employer as well as your academy as well, no?"

Josh listened carefully and nodded at the perspective to get to try something new. “I would love to try them. What kind of dishes are they usually used for? Is it just meat and vegetables or is there any especial dish they are used for?” It made sense, but it was still something that made Josh feel more comfortable with the decisions he had made to transfer so far from his family to keep his studies. “I agree. Especially since I’m proud to be part of both the Institute and your staff.”

Mitchell gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, most commonly you get them in dishes with onions and leek, a vegetable stir fry or with beef and pork of many different cuts." He shrugged lightly. "A lot of flowering and leafy vegetables as well as mushrooms make their way into the cuisine. And one of the signature dishes from the region is the hot pot." He gave a little smile, glad of the young man's interest in all the different styles. "We'll make something traditional, and then see what we can do to make that more interesting. Sichuan porkbelly tacos would be magical." He laughed lightly. "My staff of me and the wonderful services of Mrs. Briar and her daughter's cleaning services? It's something, us crazy few."

Josh made mental notes of all the options Mitchell was mentioning, feeling more excited on the perspective to get to cook something completely new “That sounds interesting. There are just too many options. I thought it was more limited to certain specific dishes but it sounds great to have so many ingredients to mix and work with. I am sure the results would be completely different depending on the other components we mix with those peppers. Some vegetable could neutralize the capsaicin making the flavor more bearable for people who aren’t used to spicy food.” He grinned and nodded “That sounds like a great plan. I would love to learn to make something traditional and something more contemporary. I love to see both sides of regional cuisine.” Josh shook his head “It doesn’t matter if your staff is made of four people or four hundred. It’s still the people who keep this place running and I see a lot of reasons to proud of being part of that.”

Mitchell listened to the other man, giving a hum and a little nod. "You've quite the eager culinary mind there. I sometimes forget how agile it is," he said with a little smile. "I'll get the necessary supplies and we'll make a dish or two next weekend, and then let you loose on the ingredients. Get your spin on it." He smiled and nodded, letting the young man's ideas wash over him. It was something to consider, to be sure. "Well that's high praise and honor to my establishment. Thank you, Josh."

Josh often wondered if it was a good or a bad thing how quickly is mind focused on food facts or recipes whenever he was talking to someone and he realized he was really enjoying to have someone to talk about all those things without feeling judge or weird. “I can’t help it; my mind runs wild whenever I have a chance to try new things. New recipes, new ingredients. Sometimes is a problem,” he finished with a timid smile. “Thank you! I’m very excited now, I might make some research to get ideas.” He offered a small bow of his head “You’re very welcome. It was a praise well deserved and it is completely true. You have a lot to be proud of this place. It’s amazing.”

Mitchell gave a low laugh, looking down at his pupil and shaking his head. "Never feel weird for your passion here. I pride myself on confusing fusion dishes that make the world sing. I'm happy to encourage those skills and desires." He laughed lightly and offered a hand to pull the young man to his feet. "It's never a problem my young friend. Explore those combinations." He smiled and clapped the young man on his shoulder as he stood. "Well I'm glad you're enjoying the Rest as a place to work. That's high praise indeed." He flicked his eyes to the mantle. "I feel however, we should get you back to the Institute. I've kept you long enough tonight." He paused and flashed a little smile. "Pack yourself some lunch for tomorrow, yes?"

Josh was certainly thankful for having such an encouraging mentor “Thank you, I will keep that in mind. It’s a nice change from other professors.” He smiled and accepted the hand to get on his feet “I find it hard to believe someone wouldn’t enjoy to work here.” He nodded but turned to pick up the wine glasses “Okay, I’ll just take care of these and I’ll be ready to go,” he said in a cheery voice. “Thank you for the wine and I really enjoyed a lot the conversation. I’ll make sure to pack some lunch,” he added before heading back to the kitchen to take care of the glasses and pick up his satchel and jacket.