#* friends that we hang out with on regular basis i should say. sigh okay whatever

[fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan]

A Lie to Love - Nathan MacKinnon

This is for @antoineroussel Summer Fic Exchange. I had the wonderful @broadstbroskis!

I had so much fun writing this fic and reading everyone else's work, I love getting to see so many great writers sharing their work on this site. This is also one of the longest pieces I have written in a very long time, as I was writing this I had a million other fic ideas pop in my head so many those will get written some time soon.

***

I just sat down on my couch, just getting home from work when someone started knocking on my apartment door. I was hoping to ignore it and it would go away, unfortunately they kept knocking. I groaned as I got up, decided how much I was going to curse this person out. “What-” Right behind the door was Nate, giving me a nervous smile.

I had met Nate through his teammate Gabe, I babysat for Gabe and Melissa on a regular basis. Nate showed up one night that I was watching their daughter looking for advice from Melissa. I was able to help him then he hung out with me until Gabe and Melissa came home. Since then I could expect him to show up at my apartment at least once a week for dinner, and we were close friends after I had to save him from a laundry emergency that first night I met him.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I need a huge favor.” Leaving the door open I headed back towards my couch, I knew Nate would follow me and close the door behind him. Once I was sitting on the couch again Nate pulled my legs onto his lap.

“Last time you asked for a favor I ended up with the flu.” Which was true, he had asked me to help out at a learn to skate event that was outside in December. It had been a cold and foggy day, and two days later I was down for the count.

“I brought you soup! And tissues for we left for that road trip.”

“You brought me one box of tissues and two cans of tomato soup.” Nate raised an eyebrow like I had proven his point. I threw a pillow at his head before speaking again. “I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, I’m an idiot. Sorry. But I still need a favor.” I really wanted to just say no, ask Nate to leave and go to sleep until I had to go into the office tomorrow. But I knew I was going to say yes before I even found out what he needed. “Please Ruth.”

“What is this favor?”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” That got a small chuckle out of Nate but he also looked nervous. “Why do you need a fake girlfriend?” Nate was in a ‘single and loving it’ stage of life, he just wanted to play hockey and hang out with his teammates.

“An executive on the team has been talking up his daughter for like the last two years. I’ve been able to brush off the hints he has been throwing at me, luckily she doesn’t live here. Today he came up to me when I was heading out for the day, talking about how his daughter is coming into town and how we should get dinner together so I can get to know her. I thought I could brush it off as a one off dinner, say we there was no connection and then she would be gone. Easy, ya know?”

“Not really. But continue.”

“Apparently this isn’t just a visit for her, she is moving here. And going to work for the team on the social media team.”

“That must have ruined your plan.” Nate nodded and I knew I was going to agree to his crazy plan. “So how did all this lead to me needing to be your fake girlfriend?”

“I panicked and said I had a girlfriend.”

“And I’m the only girl you hang out with that isn’t related to you or in a relationship with a teammate.”

“You are also one of my best friends and the one person I trust every part of my life with. I know this is a lot to ask, I know this is bigger than asking you to help with a skating event. This is a change to every part of your life, and lying to a lot of people.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate’s jaw actually dropped like he couldn’t believe I was agreeing to do it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. I know this is a huge ask, I really do.”

“Before we talk about details, I need food and wine. Not necessarily in that order.” I ordered food and pulled out the biggest wine glass I had. As we waited for the food, we came up with a plan and story to tell everyone. We decided to stick with the cliche story of best friends who decided to fall for each other.

“Um, what about kissing? And other PDA?” Nate’s cheeks flushed as he asked the question and I knew it wasn’t from the wine. “I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“Let’s just start with hand holding and that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” Our food was delivered then, Nate going to the door and coming back with the bags of food.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, you can think about it like this is our first date.” I nod and start eating once we decided on something to watch. This felt normal for us, eating take out and watching whatever hockey game Nate was able to find. After we finished eating Nate helped me clean everything up before he got ready to leave. I walked him to the door, hugging him tightly as he let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for doing this. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it Nate, I’ll always be there when you need me.” I closed the door behind him, hoping that I wouldn’t regret agreeing to fake date my best friend.

Nate’s pov

I had been ignoring my phone since I pulled into the parking lot at Ruth’s apartment building, knowing that asking Ruth to do this would make or break our friendship. When I left her apartment I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. But I also knew it was only going to make my feelings for her grow. I realized within a month of knowing Ruth that I had feelings for her, and I had almost told her a dozen times a year since then.

I checked my phone when I got home, I had four missed phone calls from my captain and nearly a dozen texts. I skipped over looking at all the messages and just called him. “Nate, why did I hear you say that you are dating someone? Mel has been questioning me since this afternoon because she heard you say to someone that you are in a relationship. She is pissed that I didn’t tell her about it. Which is hard to do considering I had no clue.”

Before I could answer I heard Mel’s voice. “MacKinnon, you better tell me who you are dating.”

“Uh, Ruth-” There was a loud squeal on the other end of the call and then I heard Landy trying to shush his wife.

“When were you going to tell us this?” Gabe asked after it got quiet. I wanted to tell them the truth, we had talked about it. We eventually decided that we wouldn’t tell them the truth because Gabe was the worst gossiper on the team.

“It’s only been about a month, we wanted to make sure this was going to work before we shared it with anyone. We wanted to wait even longer but one of the executives was trying to set me up with his daughter.”

“Alright. I guess that is enough information from now. We can always ask more questions at that fundraiser on Friday night.”

“Oh shit.” That caused Gabe to laugh at me.

“You didn’t tell her about that yet?”

“No, we weren’t going public yet so I figured that I would just go by myself. But I guess I need to tell her about that now and see if she is willing to come with me.”

“That is a big first outing, good luck with that buddy.” Gabe hung up and I knew that I needed to tell Ruth about Friday but when I left she had mentioned she was going to crash as soon as I left. I figured I should go to bed now and deal with everything tomorrow.

***

I was getting ready to knock on Ruth’s door when it flew open and Ruth was standing there looking shocked. “Nate! What are you doing here?” Her eyes then looked at the coffee cup I was holding, one that I had brought for her. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You only ever bring me my favorite coffee order when you have bad news.”

“I-Landy reminded me last night that we have a black tie fundraiser on Friday night.”

“And now that our supposed relationship is public, you are expected to bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Yeah. I am sorry, I never meant to make your life this complicated.” Ruth took the coffee from me, taking a sip before locking her door.

“I know what I signed up for Nate. I need to get to work, walk with me to my car.” I followed her through the hall of her apartment, waiting for her to yell at me. “What is this fundraiser for? And what kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s for the children’s hospital. We do it every year, they book a huge ballroom and it’s a lot of rich people. The Avs don’t run this fundraiser but all the sports teams in town donate a bunch of stuff to them to auction off and the team likes us to go so the people are more willing to open their wallets.”

“And yet that doesn’t tell me what kind of dress I need, or what time this thing is. Or any of the other million things I need to know to get ready for this thing.”

“I’m not sure about any of this, every year I go by myself. I can have Mel call you?”

“That sounds good. I have to go now, I have a project that was assigned to me yesterday that is way behind schedule. So thank you for the coffee and I’ll see you later.” I watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Ruth’s pov

By the time lunch came around I was buried under a pile of work, I hoped that if I could work through lunch and stay a little late every day this week that I would be caught up by the end of the week so I could focus on the lie at this fundraiser. So when I saw that Melissa was calling me I knew my plan was about to be derailed. “Hey Melissa.”

“I am going to ignore the fact that you didn’t tell me about you and Nate. And I am also going to save all of my questions for later, Nate told me that you need a dress for Friday. I can be at your office in 10 minutes, we can go shopping during your lunch hour.”

“I am so behind on a project that was just given to me this morning and it was already so far behind because the guy who was incharge of it before me was an idiot. I don’t have time to take a lunch break this week.”

“But Nate gave me his card to buy your dress with.” I knew I would regret what I was about to say but I didn’t have another option.

“If I tell you what size I wear, can you just get me something?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you. As much fun as I think shopping with you would be, I just can’t leave right now.”

“I get it. Send me a text with your sizes and I’ll find you the perfect dress.”

“Because my brain is a mess right now, I wasn’t supposed to babysit on Friday right?”

“No, my parents are in town this week. They are watching the kids. There is no way you are getting out of this event.” A part of me was hoping that I would have that as an excuse to not go but with that option gone I started to mentally prepare myself for Friday night.

***

“Thank you for letting me get ready here.” I said to Nate as he let me into his house. “And thank you for letting me crash here tonight.”

“Of course, it makes more sense this way. I also have your dress, Mel wouldn’t let me look at it when she dropped it off on Tuesday. I figured you can use my room to get ready, it has more counter space for whatever you need.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom and bathroom.”

“It’s not kicking me out when I volunteer to use the guest room. C’mon, let me carry your bag.”

“How long until we need to leave?”

“I have an Uber scheduled for 75 minutes from now.” I nod, knowing that I could make that work without having to rush too much. Once Nate headed into the guest room I started to unpack what I would need for now. Grabbing a towel before going to figure out the shower, which was far more high tech than anything I had ever seen in a shower before. I wrapped the towel around myself and went to find Nate. “Nate?! How do I work your futuristic shower?” I only stuck my head out in the hall to yell and luckily he heard me from the guest room he was in. A few seconds later he came out in only a loose pair of shorts, laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me, your shower has a computer screen!” I opened the bedroom door so he could come in, watching his eyes widen when I saw I was only wearing a towel. As he came in to turn the shower on for me I took the time to look over him. When he turned to show me how to change the temperature and turn it off I knew he caught me checking him out. Nate was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I knew that fake dating Nate had the potential for my true feelings to come out and I was trying to convince myself that this wouldn’t end with the death of our friendship.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

Nate’s pov

It took every ounce of willpower to not kiss Ruth when I saw her standing in my bedroom in just a towel, and then when I caught her checking me out I was really tempted to tell her the truth. I knew that this fake dating would just cause more pain for me but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a colder shower than I had originally been planning to take but after that was done I got my suit on, just a dark grey suit so that hopefully I wouldn’t clash with whatever Ruth was wearing.

Just as I finished getting my shoes on there was a knock on my door. I opened it and was immediately speechless. The deep green dress looked amazing on her and I am pretty sure that my jaw was on the floor. As she moved in the dress I saw the large slit on the one side that showed a lot of her leg. “Can you zip my dress?”

“Y-yeah.” Ruth turned so her back was to me, pulling her hair to the side so I could tug up the zipper before whispering. “Perfect.”

“I should be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I just need to come grab a tie. I wanted to wait until I saw what color your dress was.” Ruth nodded as we both heard into my bedroom, I headed straight for my closet and by the time I came out with my tie on Ruth was standing at the end of my bed smiling. “You look amazing.”

“You do too.” I walked over to Ruth, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We make a good looking couple.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, Ruth looking at me with wide eyes.

“O-okay, um, I’ll go grab my stuff and get out of your hair.” Ruth went to turn and walk away from me, but I gently turned her around so I could tell her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I cupped Ruth’s cheek, locking eyes with her. “I have had feelings for you for so long. Probably since a month after I met you but I was scared to tell you. And then we became friends and I didn’t want to make things weird, so I kept it a secret. But I also fell for you more as we became closer friends. So I think a part of me decided to say I was dating someone because I want to be dating you. For real.” Ruth didn’t say anything, just took a step closer and pressed her lips to mine. “I, what just happened?”

“Everything you just told me, I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now kiss me for real.” That I could do, I kissed Ruth like I had wanted to do for years. We only stopped kissing when a car horn sounded in my driveway. “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”

“I would say sorry but I’m not. I’ll go to the car if you want to fix your lipstick.” Ruth nodded, stepping back while smiling at me. “Just so you know, this isn’t our first date. I will be planning that for next week and it is going to knock your socks off.”

“As long as you are there, I can’t wait.” I kissed Ruth one more time before healing downstairs to tell the driver we were almost ready. I also couldn’t keep the smile off of my face, I couldn’t believe what started out as a panicked lie turned into a chance to date my best friend for real.

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you��re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster (add yourself to the taglist!)

[sierraraeck]

One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.”

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

[hyungwonmyheart]

Sleepover

Group: SuperM / NCT Pairing: Lucas (Wong Yukhei) / Female Reader Words: 6,637 Tags: college!au, party time, drinking games, alcohol use, dirty talk, handjob, clitoral stimulation, vaginal sex, pet names Summary: You’re invited to a party by your best friend, Ten, at his apartment. When you get there, you discover the only people who showed up are some of his guy friends (the members of SuperM) and his roommate, Lucas; the one you’d been harboring some strong feelings for ever since he moved in. A night full of drinking games leads to you sneaking into Lucas’ room when everyone else is asleep, all thanks to liquid courage. A/N: I’ve been writing this freaking fic for months. There will eventually be a sequel, but it will not be featuring Lucas/Reader as the center point! I had a lot of fun writing the game section because it really showcased their personalities. Sometimes you just need to write silly filler. Anyway, I really hope y’all enjoy this! :D

“When are you getting back in town again?” Ten asked through the phone screen. He was sitting on his couch, eating lunch while video calling you. His phone was propped up on something, allowing him full use of his hands to enjoy the meal.

You were lying on your childhood bed, having visited your parents for a few days. You weren’t particularly concerned with the camera angle; it was just your best friend. “Tomorrow afternoon. I have Sunday off before I go back to work on Monday.”

“Hey, that’s perfect!” A new voice said just as someone popped their head into the frame. Ten’s roommate, Lucas, was all smiles when he laid eyes on you. “We’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come!”

At the sight of Lucas, you immediately sat up in bed and readjusted the phone to look your best.

Ten noticed, but nudged Lucas away to say, “Oh yeah, we’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come.” His monotonous voice lacked enthusiasm since his roommate spoiled the news.

“That sounds like fun,” you exclaimed, already looking forward to it.

Your friend swallowed a bite of food when a sly darkness came to his gaze. “By the way, you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Lucas?”

You narrowed your eyes on Ten, knowing what he was getting at, but only smiled as Lucas sat down beside him with his own plate of food.

“She always looks great,” the younger replied, shit-eating grin and all as he swept some of his hair out of his face. Then, he wasted no more time to dig into his lunch.

Ten wiggled his eyebrows at you, which only made you even more flustered.

“I gotta go, my mom’s calling for me,” you fibbed to get out of the conversation.

That made Ten suspicious. “I didn’t hear her--”

“See you tomorrow! Bye!”

“Hey, wai-”

You quickly ended the call before tossing your phone away and burying your face in a pillow. That little shit, you thought spitefully about your friend. He knew you carried a torch for Lucas, and never let the chance pass to tease you about it. Lucas was six feet of charming, goofy, raw charisma. He was undeniably handsome, and his smile was to die for. You were in deep, deeper than you ever let Ten know, though he probably figured that out for himself.

However, you couldn’t confront those feelings. What if you did pursue Lucas? What if things didn’t work out, and the awkwardness forced him to move? And then, Ten would have to go through the trouble of finding another roommate. You didn’t want to cause such a fuss. You could keep it in your pants if it meant helping them live in harmony.

Your phone jingled to alert you had received a new text.

Ten: Coward.

If only they could make it that easy on you.

•••••

You traveled home safely from your parents’, and immediately started getting ready for the party. You weren’t sure exactly what kind of party this was, so you opted with a smokey eye and rosy lip look while your clothes were trendy, yet casual enough to be comfortable in. The desire to impress Lucas lingered in the back of your mind...well, more like hovered over your back like a vengeful spirit ready to devour its next soul.

Okay, maybe that was a little dark, but it really was an ominous feeling, damn it!

All you wanted was to have a good time tonight, and if that good time included Lucas’ company, then everything would be perfect.

You made your way to Ten’s apartment around 8 o’clock that evening. You stood outside the door for a solid fifteen seconds, preparing yourself for knocking. Usually, you’d be inclined to stroll in without delay, but for some reason your anxiety was getting the better of you. This was just another party to hang out with some friends...and Lucas...Nothing to get so worked up about.

Knock, knock, knock.

You heard some footsteps approaching before the door swung open and Ten greeted you with a bright smile.

“Hey!” He said, giving you a hug before ushering you in.

“Hi!” You returned, immediately looking around the room. Your face fell a bit.

Sitting in the living room was a group of six other men. You knew all of them, though a couple you considered acquaintances. Mark and Taeyong were friends of Lucas’ you’d only met once before, while Baekhyun, Taemin and Jongin were the ones you saw on a regular basis with Ten.

You figured it must still be early. “Who else is coming?” You asked as you started to unzip your jacket.

“This is it,” Ten announced, motioning to the others.

You paused mid-zip. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought this was a party, not just some night for drinking with your boys.”

“Some people cancelled last minute, so it’s just us! And you! Yayyy,” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You sighed, feeling a little put-off by being the only girl in a group full of guys, but whatever, you’d roll with it. You finished taking your jacket off, along with your shoes while you were at it.

“Before you start mingling,” Ten began, stepping between you and your line of sight to the living room, “I’m going to take this as an opportunity to let you know something that I found out.” The sudden sinister smile on his lips made your skin crawl. It had to be something interesting for him to make that face.

“Spill,” you demanded.

Ten lowered his voice. “Lucas told Baekhyun who told me that Lucas wants you.”

You raised a brow. “‘Wants me’?”

“Yeah,” he continued, “and he says he loves your smile and you’ve got a nice ass.”

Peeking over Ten’s shoulder, you nearly stared holes into the back of Lucas’ head as he sat on the couch. “And?” You asked to see if there was more while returning your gaze to your best friend.

“Oh, and he thinks you need a man who knows how to dick you down.”

Your mouth dropped.

Ten giggled. “Okay, I added that last part in.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him playfully. You were still wrapping your mind around this. “Why would Lucas tell Baekhyun that? He literally has the biggest mouth--”

“--Because, unlike us, Lucas doesn’t know better not to tell Baekhyun anything like that,” Ten cut in.

You glanced down at your fidgeting fingers. This felt kind of unreal. You choked back your hesitation to ask, “Does he really want me?”

Ten blinked. “Are you serious? That boy has been fawning over you since Day One.”

Shaking out the anxious energy from your hands, you took a deep breath and primped your hair a bit. If this was true, you had to make sure. Tonight.

You heard Lucas’ voice from behind Ten as he loudly said your name. “You made it!” He exclaimed, bringing you into a warm hug.

You breathed in his cologne and never wanted the hug to end. When he pulled away, much to your internal disdain, you smiled up at him. “Hey, Lucas,” you said before waving at everyone who was now staring at you from across the room. “Hey, guys!”

They all said their hellos as you walked into the living room with Lucas and Ten close behind you.

“Can I make you a drink?” Taemin offered, going to stand from the couch.

“She can do it her damn self,” Ten quipped as he took a seat on the floor by the coffee table.

You started poking his side with your toes, knowing it was going to bug him.

He swatted at your foot, but you moved too quickly for him to touch you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“C’mon, I’ll make it for you,” Lucas said with a laugh. He placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and guided you towards the kitchen.

You ignored the silence that followed as everyone watched the two of you leave, but you were relieved when Ten started up the conversation with, “Which one of these drinks was mine again?”

“You should’ve gotten a Sharpie so we could write our names on the cups…” Jongin stated.

“That would have required thinking ahead,” Baekhyun teased, sipping at his own drink.

Mark chimed in, “You really don’t have a Sharpie? Anywhere?”

Ten sent a glare around the room. “Fresh out.”

Their discussion faded as your focus was overwhelmed with Lucas’ presence.

“Whatcha got a taste for?” He asked, motioning to the plethora of alcohol and mixers scattered across the kitchen counter.

You couldn’t really say ‘your dick’ without dying of shame, so instead you went for, “A shot of tequila.”

Lucas smirked and reached for a shot glass from one of the cabinets. “Anything else?” He questioned as he poured your shot.

You snatched it off the counter and tilted your head back, downing it. You hissed a bit before setting the glass down. If you got some alcohol in your system quickly, you would surely loosen up and relax more. That was your logic. Your eyes flickered to his as a flirtatious smile played on your lips. “Another shot of tequila?”

The low chuckle that came from his direction traveled straight to your core. “Don’t go too hard yet, we’ve still got games to play,” he informed you while pouring your second shot.

You tossed the tequila back once more. “But I like to go hard,” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying.

A look of surprise crossed his face, but you quickly turned away to mix yourself a cocktail. You cursed your dirty mind. Maybe he didn’t catch the innuendo in your words…

After you stirred your drink, you let Lucas--who was now awfully quiet--lead you back out into the living room.

Taeyong stood from the couch and offered you the seat. “The lady shouldn’t sit on the floor,” he declared, sitting down beside Mark.

Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if it was from the gentlemanly act or the tequila.

Probably both.

You thanked Taeyong and sat between Baekhyun and Taemin. Lucas wheeled in the computer chair from his bedroom, while the others remained on the floor.

Ten clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms against each other. “Since this is it, how about we start a game?” He suggested.

“What game?” A few questioned simultaneously.

“I thought we could start with a game called ‘Most Likely,’” he continued. “Basically, we’ll go around in a circle. Each person thinks of a question to ask everyone in the room, like, who is ‘Most Likely to fall asleep first at a sleepover?’ Or ‘Most Likely to lose their phone while it’s on silent?’ Silly questions, dirty questions, all are welcome. Then, everyone points to the person they think are Most Likely to do so. Whoever has the most fingers pointed at them has to drink!”

“That sounds like fun!” Mark gabbed.

“Then, I’ll start!” Ten announced. “Everyone got their drinks? Yeah? Okay! Who is Most Likely to feel comfortable walking around naked?”

Baekhyun started to laugh. “Oh, we’re starting out dirty right from the get-go, huh?” When everyone’s fingers pointed in his direction, his smile faltered and he pouted. “Hey! Are you guys ganging up on me?”

“Are you really going to sit there and act like you don’t?” Jongin said in disbelief.

“W-Well, no, but--”

“THEN DRINK!” Ten and Taemin demanded.

Baekhyun begrudgingly took the first sip of the game before boasting, “Me next!” He tapped his chin in thought before asking, “Who’s Most Likely to eat an entire pizza in one sitting?”

Fingers gravitated to Lucas.

Without even arguing, Lucas raised his cup to his lips.

The next few questions went by with brief discussions.

You asked, “Most Likely to get a million followers on a social media platform?” Unanimously decided that would be Taemin.

Taemin asked, “Most Likely to become an evil mastermind and plan to take over the world?” Well, that was right up Ten’s alley, though it was agreed you’d be his minion.

Taeyong asked, “Most Likely to forget something at the grocery store if they don’t have a list?” He shot a playful glare at Mark, to which the younger apologized to his own roommate ‘for the thousandth time.’

Mark asked, “Most Likely to become a supermodel?” One would think it went to Lucas since he was so tall, but everyone agreed there was something about Jongin that would draw the eye in that sort of situation.

Jongin stared into his drink for a few seconds as he thought. “Most Likely to abandon their room because of a spider?” A smile crept to his lips as all the fingers pointed to you.

You narrowed your eyes on each person before defending, “Okay, first of all, when it’s a big spider and it disappears from my sight, of course I’m going to get the fuck out of that room!”

Baekhyun snorted. “Until someone else comes and finds it and kills it for you.”

“Remember that time you slept in your living room for five days because you couldn’t find that one spider?” Ten brought to your attention.

You glared at your best friend. “Go to hell.”

“We’ll ride down together, my little minion,” he cackled. “Now drink.”

You took a big gulp from your cup.

The game continued. Lucas asked, “Most Likely to spend an entire day playing video games?”

The vote had barely even come down to Baekhyun before he raised his hand. “I’ll take that crown, thank you!” He beamed, taking a drink.

You giggled. This was actually pretty fun.

“Okay, we’re back to me,” Ten announced, carefully picking out his next question. “Most Likely to become an escort?” He wiggled his eyebrows towards Taemin, obviously thinking everyone would choose him.

Ten didn’t expect the fingers around the room to point at him again. After more thought…they were probably right. "Okay, yeah, I can see that,” he started, “but listen, I have very expensive tastes. I just need a sugar daddy instead."

Laughs filled the room, but then Taemin chimed in, "You say that, but..." He glanced at Taeyong, who'd yet to have been picked for a question. "Who's most likely to be a sugar baby?"

Most fingers were directed at Taeyong.

Ten, who was pointing at himself, pouted, but ended up nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that."

Taeyong’s face flushed. “But why me?!”

Leaning over from his seat, Taemin jokingly grabbed Taeyong’s chin and squeezed his cheeks together. “You’re sweet, and who wouldn’t give money to that face?” He mocked, though laughed loudly as Taeyong slapped at his hand.

“Are you trying to say that I would take money from some old dude just because I’m cute?” Taeyong’s cheeks were blood red at this point. His flustered gaze was on the ground. You noticed that Ten couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Baekhyun crossed one leg over the other, smirking over at the embarrassed man. “Who said it had to be an old dude? There are lots of women out there who’d love to have you around.”

You kept your gaze on Ten, picking up on the subtle twitch of his eyebrow when Baekhyun spoke about a woman getting Taeyong’s attention. Oh, so I’m not the only one with the hots for someone… You thought, stifling a giggle.

“You’d be crazy not to,” Ten butted in, finally tearing his eyes away from Taeyong. You knew your best friend, and you knew he wasn’t always one to act on his feelings unless he was sure of the other party’s attraction to him as well. He swirled his drink around in his cup. “Free money? Hell yeah.”

Taeyong finally sent a glance at your friend, a distant look of hurt in his gaze. “Nothing’s ‘free’, Ten.”

Ten couldn’t stop himself from poking a bit more fun. “Okay, so you’ll have to do a bit of literal ass kissing, but you’ll be living comfortably,” he said with a laugh.

You exchanged awkward glances with Lucas, and you immediately knew he caught on to Ten’s feelings as well. It may not have been obvious to anyone else, but you two were the ones he was closest with.

You brought your arm down in front of you, as if cutting the tension with a knife. “All right, all right, next question…”

A few more rounds went by before it came to Mark again. Like his roommate, Mark’s cheeks were also flushed, but you realized he was a bit drunker than the others in the room. His drink was almost gone, and if you remembered correctly, Lucas may have mentioned at some point that his friend was a lightweight. “Most Likely to pierce their dick?” Mark almost slurred.

Lucas motioned to you. “That’s not fair, she can’t answer that!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine, pierce their ‘genitals’?”

“That just sounds even dirtier,” Jongin murmured.

Ten chuckled, “The dirtier the better, in my opinion, but it sounds like Mark’s the one who’s interested in it.”

“I never took Mark as being that kinky,” Baekhyun snickered.

Mark gasped and shook his head vigorously. He immediately regretted that. He lifted his hands to his temples, trying to massage the headache and nausea away.

“What the hell is he drinking?” You inquired, curious to what had him so messed up this early in the night. You looked around at the others, but froze when you realized Lucas was staring at you. When he quickly averted his eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach.

Taemin snorted at your question. “I made him a drink; it must’ve been too strong for him.”

If Mark’s concoction from Taemin was that strong, now you were grateful that you made your own drink.

“Are you still okay to play?” Lucas asked Mark.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the younger insisted.

“Then, let’s keep going,” Ten declared.

It was Jongin’s turn. “Most Likely…” He pondered for a few seconds. “Most Likely to have sex in public?”

Even Taemin pointed at himself. “What can I say, I like the thrill?” He rubbed the back of his neck innocently.

When the time came for Lucas’ next question, he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked around at the people in the room. “Who is Most Likely to be a pornstar?” His low voice sent tingles to your fingertips.

Such a dirty question from the man you liked so much. That was all it took for your mind to drift off at the thought of Lucas being a pornstar. You imagined him slowly taking off his clothes, and giving you ‘come hither’ eyes. He was so tall, you were sure he had to be packing. His hands would travel down his chest, his solid abdomen, eventually reaching the waistline of his underwear. The ‘V’ line of his hip bones trailing under the fabric.

“Hello? Earth to--”

You snapped out of your trance and realized everyone was waiting for your answer. You cleared your throat and absently voted for Taemin like everyone else.

“I’m the answer to all of these. Why am I the pervy one?” He puffed his cheeks out.

“Well, if the cock ring fits…” Baekhyun joked, making everyone start laughing.

Taemin reached over you to slap Baekhyun’s arm, but you ended up tickling him under his own arm. With a gasp, he sat back and gawked at you. “Excuse me, I’m sensitive!”

“Yeah, sure,” you giggled. Your eyes flickered over to Lucas.

He was watching you again, and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy coming from his direction.

After a few seconds, you finally looked over to Ten to see him giving you a suggestive smile. You immediately cursed his existence as he asked the next question.

“Most Likely to sleep with a friend’s friend?”

Fingers from around the room, including your own, pointed to Ten, yet his and Baekhyun’s were pointing to someone else.

Lucas.

Mark burst into laughter. “Lucas?! Yeah, right! This goody two-shoes?!”

Lucas’ face turned red all the way to his ears. “Shut up, Mark. Taeyong, take his drink--”

“NO!” Mark shouted, suddenly downing the rest of the alcohol in his cup.

A moment of chaos broke out as Taeyong and Lucas leapt to get the cup, but it was too late, and everyone else was laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile, your eyes briefly met Ten’s. You glanced to Taeyong, back to Ten, and gave him a knowing smile. “Lucas isn’t the only one most likely, huh?” You whispered. That seemed to shut him up for a moment before you stood and went into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath away from everyone else, you were trying to keep your cool. The way Lucas reacted to that last question, the way he’d been staring at you all night, the way he gently touched your back earlier; Ten was right, Lucas liked you way more than you wanted to acknowledge.

You were ready to give in.

After refilling your drink, you returned to the living room.

Ten beamed at you. “She’s back! Let’s play another game! It’s called ‘Flip Cup’--” He paused, looking at the youngest in the room. “Mark should probably sit this one out, though…”

•••••

3 A.M.

The party had settled about an hour before. The guys were too drunk to go home, so Ten and Lucas helped set them up to sleep in the living room while you changed into the spare set of pajamas you left over here for situations like this. It was also obvious that you were going to stay in Ten’s room.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you had told him after he suggested sharing the bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“...Are you sure?” Ten asked, purely confused.

You nodded, taking a pillow from the bed. You had a plan, and you were just drunk enough to have the confidence to do it.

Luckily, you were too wired to accidentally fall asleep, so you laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling for a while until you were sure Ten was passed out. When you finally built up the courage to get out of your makeshift bed, you carefully stepped over to the door and opened it. Turning your head, you took one final glimpse at your best friend, who was sound asleep, before closing the door. You could hear soft snores coming from the living room as you crossed the hall to Lucas’ room. You stared at the doorknob for a long while.

You had to get out of your head if you were going to do this.

Just fucking do it, you snapped at yourself. Grasping the handle, you twisted the knob and peeked your head into the room.

Lucas was curled up in his blankets, his head tilted to the side where you couldn’t see.

Ever-so slowly, you entered the room and locked the door behind you. It was now or never. Creeping over to his bedside, you lifted the covers and crawled into the bed. You waited a few seconds to see if Lucas would stir, but his steady breathing reassured you that he was fast asleep.

How did you want to do this? His body heat radiated under the blankets and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him. Scooting over, you snuggled into his side and let your hand flitter down his bare abdomen to find solace between his legs. You praised his creator, who blessed him so, while you massaged his length through the sweatpants he wore. It soon twitched to life.

Lucas let out a soft grunt before stirring from his drunken slumber. He slowly turned to look at whoever was touching him, squinting through the darkness to lay eyes on you. You could see the confusion pass through his expression, as if he were wondering if this was some alcohol-induced wet dream.

You flashed him a sweet smile, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He quietly croaked, his voice pitchy before he tried to clear the grogginess.

You kept your voice down to tell him, “Ten said Baekhyun said you wanted me. Well, here I am.” You squeezed on his hardening cock, palming it a bit more firmly.

Lucas leaned his head back, sighing with pleasure. He didn’t know whether to curse or praise Baekhyun’s big mouth. A soft groan left him, his hips lifting to meet your hand.

You swallowed hard. There was something about the sounds he was making and the way he was moving that made you want to wreck him. “What exactly was it you wanted from me, baby boy?” You asked, gripping even harder onto him.

Your pet name sent a chill through his body. When he realized just how strong your grip was on his aching cock, trapped inside his sweatpants, Lucas knew you wouldn’t let him beat around the bush. “Everything,” he answered.

You raised a brow. “That’s awfully greedy, and very vague. C’mon, baby, tell me what you want from me?”

Lucas met your sultry gaze through the darkness. “You. I just want all of you,” he replied earnestly. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your face felt hot as your hand faltered briefly. “And you’ve kept that a secret? For months?!”

His hips moved to get some kind of friction on his length from your hand. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I thought it was obvious!” He defended before you shushed him.

“You need to be quiet. Everyone’s asleep,” you told him. Pulling the blankets back, you maneuvered yourself to straddle his waist and stared down at him while grinding down on his groin. “I want everything from you, too, Lucas...Let’s make up for lost time.” Your voice was soft, but your words were so sincere that you felt him twitching under you in response to hearing them.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you to say that,” he growled, sitting up to grab the back of your neck. He guided your lips to his and thrust his tongue into your mouth.

You whimpered, taking in every taste of toothpaste and lingering alcohol. You scratched your nails down his chest before playing with the hem of his sweatpants.

“Wait--” Lucas breathed, breaking apart from the kiss. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside as he moved to kiss what skin was revealed of your breasts. His fingertips grazed around your waist and up your back, his touch hot and needy to get you naked as well. He managed to unclip your bra and bit down on the delicate flesh just above one of your nipples while he slipped it off.

Gasping at the sensation, your head fell back while your hips rotated down onto him. “I need you...” The whine slipped from your lips with a desperate yearning. Just hearing your words made him moan out in response, making your hand quickly cover his mouth. You hardly meant the words you were about to say, but you wanted to see his reaction. “We can’t do this if you’re going to be loud. Maybe I should go--”

The panic in his eyes almost made your heart burst with affection. He didn’t have a right to be this cute. “Stay! Stay!” He whispered against your hand. As he pressed his chest against yours, he nudged your hand away to fiercely capture your lips. You could feel in the way he held you, his nails now dragging down into the flesh of your back; he wasn’t going to let you go. You were hopelessly lost in his kiss.

As his fingers traveled lower behind you, they reached your pajama pants and dipped under the fabric to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Lucas’ hand slipped even further down to delve its fingers between your sopping wet folds. He let out a heavy breath against the kiss, dipping a tentative finger into your pussy.

Your eyes widened and you shuddered, your breathing just as feverish as you rotated your hips into his touch. His finger swirled around in your juices, and it was muddling your mind. You came into this wanting to wreck him, and suddenly it was very much turning the other way. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed and breaking from his kiss.

Lucas stared up at you with those bright, puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong?” He was nearly breathless.

That made you smile. “I just need more than your finger,” you admitted, helping him rid his sweatpants. When you were perched atop his naked body, you finally saw what you were getting yourself into. Well--more like what was going to get into you. Your mouth fell open a bit, but you quickly shook off your initial shock. Feeling it through pants and seeing it in all its glory were a bit different.

He tried to hold back a smirk, but the way you were looking at him only boosted his ego. He said your name, which snapped you out of your daze. “Is everything okay?” The mock in his voice only irked you.

You nodded, trying to ignore that smug little way he smiled up at you. Licking your lips, you started rubbing your warmth against his cock. As it grazed your clit, you lifted a hand to your mouth to keep back any noise. That felt really good. You grinded down even harder, bringing sighs of ecstasy from both of your mouths. Your hips had built up to a pace that eventually made Lucas growl and flip you over onto your back.

“No more teasing,” he declared, his cock prodding at your entrance. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then fuck me, baby boy,” you hissed as you parted your legs even more for him.

Lucas brought you into another kiss to stifle both of your moans as he finally guided his cock into you. It was a tight squeeze, taking a half-dozen minimal thrusts until he had sheathed most of himself inside. Your walls clenched down around him, and it was like he was in heaven on earth. He swallowed every sound that threatened to escape your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you clung to his broad frame. When he withdrew his length and gave you his first full thrust, you quickly realized that staying quiet was going to be a real problem.

That thought also occurred to Lucas. He, however, had no intention of holding back anymore. Parting from your lips, Lucas gazed down to see a hopeless look in your expression and smiled. “Mm, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he purred, building up a strong rock of his hips.

You gasped and bit your bottom lip. Your eyes were glued to his. The more he thrust, the harder it became to stay sane. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you panted into your palm.

It was easy to hear the ragged way you were trying to keep some control over your sounds. You were so adorable. He had wanted this for months, and now that you were finally here with him, his bed wasn’t so lonely anymore. He prayed you were enjoying yourself as much as he was. “Is it good for you?” He murmured, nipping a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes,” you rushed under your breath, “yes, yes, yes!” Your hands wove themselves into his hair and attempted to yank him back down to kiss again.

Lucas lowered his head a few inches, just enough to graze your lips before he lifted it again. He waited for a whine of objection before he grinned at you. He sat backward on his haunches and steadily gripped your waist. He wet his lips as he studied the way your bodies met through the shadows. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know?” He said, not much caring for the volume of his voice. “I can’t get enough…” He leisurely drew his hips back, watching every inch of his dick as it pulled out to its head. He paused just a moment before sliding in as much as he could possibly fit inside you.

You nearly choked on air as he touched you so deeply. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his wrists, as if gripping onto them would get you some semblance of control over the situation, but no. Lucas was in control now.

The seductive smile that met you through the darkness of the room made it quite clear of that.

When you felt him start to work his hips in such a way that was making the head of his cock touch your sweet spot with every caress, you were frantic. You couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped into the air, and you knew the thin walls of the apartment would do nothing to shroud it.

His eyes danced. “Do you like that spot?” He asked with fascination. Giving his next thrust a bit more gusto, you groaned loudly before you could catch yourself. It finally occurred to you what he was doing.

Lucas seemed to have a determination to make you wake the whole freaking apartment.

Not him.

You.

If there was one thing Lucas should know about you by now, though, it was that you were stubborn. You glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose!” You half-heartedly spat.

His thrusts halted again. “Doing what?” He asked obliviously.

“Trying to wake everyone up!”

He snorted. “Need I be the one to remind you again that YOU woke ME up?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I thought it would be kinky, but you’re just trying to make it awkward for everyone else!”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Lucas let those words hover between you before he abruptly pulled out of you.

Honestly, he could have leaned down, captured your lips again, and kept at it that way, but he came up with a different plan. You wanted kinky, after all… “Fine. You want to stay quiet?” You were in utter confusion before you felt his large hands flip you over onto your stomach. He roughly grabbed your hips and lifted your ass. “Bite the sheets,” he snipped, thrusting back into you with reckless abandon.

Doing what you were told, you clamped your eyes shut and gritted the sheets between your teeth as you struggled to remain silent. Lucas kept up the relentless pace for a few minutes until you heard him curse softly and his hips stutter.

You hadn’t quite built up to your peak yet, so the reality of Lucas meeting his end made your stomach drop.

Until you felt him grip onto your waist even harder and quickly pick the tempo up again.

You were shocked. “D-Didn’t you just come?” You asked over your shoulder.

Lucas wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, but fuck, you feel so good. I can’t stop,” he grunted, slamming into you. “You said you like it hard, right?”

His stab at what you said earlier in the night had you whimpering, “So hard! God, yes, fuck me hard!”

“Shut up, or else you’ll wake everyone up!” He put pressure on your back and pinned you to the bed. “Unless you want everyone to hear you panting like a bitch in heat over my cock…”

Your jaw fell open as you tried to quickly turn and snap at him, but Lucas had a hand over your mouth before you could say a word.

He leaned over your body to growl into your ear, “Tell me I’m wrong.” He drove his cock as deeply as possible into your clenching cunt. “Tell me you aren’t a writhing mess from me fucking you.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he pinched your nose. He continued bucking into you as he cut off your access to oxygen.

Digging your fingers into the sheets below you, it was a frantic attempt to stay conscious as your body finally broke down. Succumbing to his powerful thrusts, you climaxed just before you could black out. Lucas’ hand withdrew from your face in time to keep you awake. Your ears were ringing, you were seeing stars, and your pussy was convulsing around him.

With a groan of pleasure, Lucas rested his head on your shoulder as he came again.

There was a moment of silence that felt more like a high-pitched buzz as the sensation of release hummed through your bodies. Lucas slid out of you just as he slumped onto the mattress beside you. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he covered his face with his hands instead.

All at once, you felt your senses return to you and you were aware of what was happening. Lucas had laid down and hid himself from you, and you had no clue why. Reaching out for him, you used what strength you had left to reveal the embarrassment on his face. “Are you okay?” You asked, nuzzling his jaw with your nose.

Lowering his hands, with your help, he gaped at you in disbelief. “I should be asking YOU that!” He exclaimed, flipping onto his side. He grabbed your head in his hands and peppered kisses all over your face. “I went overboard, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said those things to you!”

You started laughing at his burst of affection. “Lucas, it’s okay,” you laughed, finally catching his lips as they went to peck your cheek. Getting lost in the kiss, you relaxed only when you felt his body start to settle down. Eventually, you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face in his chest. “I didn’t realize you were into that…” You said with amusement.

“I don’t know where it came from! You must have brought that out of somewhere in the depths of me,” he joked, lightly scratching his nails up and down your back.

“...I liked it,” you admitted.

A cheesy grin came to his lips, but you were too busy being smothered by his sculpted chest to know it. “...I like you.” His voice was low and sincere.

You giggled and pressed teasing kisses along his collarbone, emphasizing each word. “I. Like. You. More.”

His embrace tightened around you. “I doubt that,” he cooed, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head. A thought occurred to him. “...Ten is going to wonder where you went in the morning, and then what will we tell him?”

“The truth,” you stated simply. “You know, that we’re together now.”

“It’s about time,” he joked, resting his chin against your head.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “it is.”

•••••

Just as things settled down in Lucas’ bedroom, things in the living room were settling as well. Having roused from the sounds coming from down the hall, Jongin, Taemin, Baekhyun and Taeyong were staring at various places around the room with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Mark was passed out, snoring on a futon in the corner of the room. Apparently, he could sleep through anything when he was that drunk.

When it seemed like the main attraction was over, Baekhyun grumbled, “Finally!” And Taemin mumbled something along the lines of, “I can sleep now.” Steady breathing filled the room again.

Everyone else had fallen back asleep, yet Taeyong’s eyes were on the ceiling. He couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his head. He glanced at the hallway to see a light dimly shining from underneath Ten’s door. He had to be awake too.

If you could be brave, then Taeyong convinced himself he could be as well. He crawled out of his makeshift bed and tiptoed over to Ten’s room. He could do this…

[1-800-fiction]

Do You Love Me?

Fandom: Marvel Request: Hey, Could you do steve/reader one where they have a major fight (steve thinks reader cheated on him) and some ugly words were said by steve, she leaves their apartment and gets drunk in the rain. SHe comes back home and drunk talks to steve thinking he is someone else saying how much she loves steve and all. The next day they patch up with tons of fluff! Smut if possible!!! Thanks in advance! Word Count: 2466 Warnings: Smuttyness ahead

Collab with: @not-moose-one-shots

————————————————————————————————-

You gave a thumbs up to Natasha as she walked to the dance floor with an unknown man. “Good for her” Wanda said jealousy.

You smiled right at her “Awe don’t worry Wandie. Some piece of meat will be all over you in no time.”

She snorted. “One, its Wanda. Second, I think the one who’s getting any meat is you” She said in her thick Russian accent.

It was your turn to snort. “Please, Steve has been quite distant lately.” You started to realize exactly how distance and a small pain in your heart appeared.

Had you done something to piss him off?  

“Drink up” Wanda said, handing you a glass of whatever it was she ordered. What the hell, you thought and drank all of it. The smooth liquid setting your throat on fire.

You scrunch up your face in disgust. “What the hell what that” You said, trying not to choke.

“Tequila” She replied. Oh crap, you thought. Tequila was the one drink you stayed away from. You could take two shots of it and be drunk. You didn’t want to be in a drunk mindset right now.  

She handed another over. “No thanks” You decline, pushing it away.

“More for me” She announced before downing it down. “Wow” She gasped. “That’s strong” She laughed.

“Okay you are officially cut off” You yelled, over the pumping music.

“No way! This party is just getting started” Nat came from behind us.

“Where’s your boy toy?” You mock.

“Oh ha ha” She said not so amused. “You guys need to live! We spend our whole time fighting, so let loose for a while” Nat announced.

“There is always an enemy planning to strike” you said seriously.  

“Not tonight” She said before grabbing Wanda and you away from the bar and into the crowded sweaty bodies. Your brain slightly buzzed from the alcohol, you don’t hesitate when someone starts to dance with you. Wanda and Nat cheer when they see you. Although you were in a relationship, Wanda and Nat would always have your back no matter what if you got too drunk and touchy feely on another man.  

You knew you were in control, just dancing with a random dude from a club.  

After a few songs you had danced with more than 5 guys. They were going too far. You were only there to dance. You finally found a guy to dance with who barely touched you and you were fine. Nat and Wanda somehow floated away into the abyss of the crowd. After a while you began to get tired. You walked away, slithering in between bodies to find your two best friends.

Instead of spotting Natasha grinding against any piece of flesh, your eyes locked onto another familiar face. Your loving boyfriend, the very Captain America himself. You both stood still, eyes locked. Pain and betrayal filled his eyes with hints of anger and sorrow. You realize that he saw you dancing with another man and was probably jealous so you go to run after him to explain but he is quicker than you realize.  

Suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you away from your path. “Hey!” You yell. Your eyes focus on Nat’s wide grin. You scrunch your nose up and she pouts. “Steve is here. I need to go find him” You yell over the music. She nods and loosens her grip. You go back on your mission to find him. Your hands reach for the door and push it open, the cool, crisp coldness of the night hit you like a train. Your hands quickly reach around your body.

“Steve!” You yell into the darkness. You scoff, knowing he left you here and didn’t bother giving you a ride. Maybe it’s part of the reason he’s been distant. You are too buzzed to think much of it so you just call a cab and go home to your shared apartment with him.  

——

The taxi door slams as you finish getting out. Your feet take you to the apartment complex and your hands push the door open. Home was on the fifth floor and the elevator was going through maintenance checks. That only frustrates you more. Your feet ached in the 5 inch blood red heels. You started to climb the stairs to find your boyfriend. Once you reached the first floor you leaned against the wall and took the pretty but painful shoes.  

5B comes into view and you sigh once reaching it. Hands reach for the doorknob, knowing you didn’t have any keys and Steve would always leave it unlocked when he was home. When it started to twist all the way you were relieved and pushed the door open to see a glance of Steve. “Steve?” You call out. The shoes drop to the floor by the front door as you close it behind you.  

“What’s wrong baby” You question, referring to the look he gave you back at the club. He turns around wearing a blank expression. You can’t read him, he’s full of emotions.

“Why are you the way that you are? I hate so much about the things you chose to be.” He says with no emotion and it hit you to the core.

“Excuse me, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You say with anger, your buzz slipping away.  

“You go out with other guys while here I am at home or work and you, just-” He says before slamming his fist down on the bench.

“Are you calling me a whore?” You practically screech.

“I thought you loved me, Y/N, and then I hear rumors of you with other guys and I caught you red-handed tonight. I don’t know if this can work” He says, not making eye contact at you.  

“So you think I’m sleeping around while in a relationship with you? I love you Steve! Why would I do that? You love me, I thought we trusted each other!” Tears well up in your eyes.

“I don’t trust you anymore Y/N! How can I?” It hurt when he said that. He thought you were cheating. All you would do is hang out and catch up with male friends and sometimes dance with some at clubs to please Nat but you never meant to hurt him.  

“Do you love me?” You ask knowing the answer could kill you.

He turned away from you with his head hanging low. “I don’t know” He whispers into the deadly silent room. It all happened so fast, you ran out and he didn’t follow. Your feet ached when you ran down the stairs but you didn’t care, you just had to get out. Once you were outside you ran. Nowhere in mind, you just went wherever you felt like. It started to rain slightly before it got heavier the more you ran.

—–

You didn’t know what time it was. You didn’t have your phone or anything, just a nearly empty bottle. You took a swig of the sour drink. You gasped but swallowed the burning sensation of the pure vodka. You were wasted, in the rain, barefoot, at god knows what hour.

“Oh crap” you hear mumbled from behind you.

“Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean I can’t fight you” You slur at the handsome stranger who now sat himself beside you. “Well okay then” You say before taking another sip. But before the smooth liquid could travel to your lips it was snatched off you.  

“I think you’ve had too much” He says.

“Hey! That’s mine!” You lean over his body to grasp at it. “You asshole” You grumble. “First my boyfriend now you” You grumble.

He looked at you confused. “You don’t know me?” He says.

“Duh” you say, look up to the sky, face greeted by the rain. Tears fell out from the sides of your eyes, mixing with the rain.

“He thinks I cheated on him and he said he doesn’t know if he still loves me” You say really fast.

“Did you?” He questions followed by a scoff from you.

“No” You answer, pain evident in your voice.

“Let’s get you home” The kind stranger orders. He helps you up and you began to walk home.  

—–  

The sun seeps through the thin curtains of your room, almost blinding you. You lift your head up to see Steve absent. Your head was pounding like a drum and so did your heart.

You groaned as you tried to sit up. You knew this was going to be a hell of a day. A hangover and trying to figure out your relationship? If Steve even came home to talk about that relationship. Was there still a relationship?

         “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Steve’s voice was far too loud for the pounding going on in your head.

         You groaned and curled back up on the bed, burrowing under the covers, “Too bright. Too loud,” you complained.

         “Remember anything about last night?” he asked.

         You sighed, “You accused me of cheating. I went out and drank. Some guy brought me home. You probably think I slept with him too.”

         “You do,” he said, “On a regular basis.”

         You flipped yourself over and stared at him, “Seriously, Steve? You really think I’m cheating on you?”

         Steve smiled and you couldn’t figure out what was so funny, “Sweetheart, I brought you home.”

         “What?”

         He chuckled, “I was the one who found you drunk. I was the one you spilled your guts to. I was the one who brought you home.”

         You were trying to piece together the previous night. You remembered a brief conversation with a handsome stranger. Could that really have been Steve? And spilling your guts? You didn’t remember talking much.

         “What did I say?” you asked softly.

         “You said you didn’t cheat and that you hated that I thought that. You said you felt like we had drifted and it upset you to think that I didn’t want you anymore,” he said, looking down, “And I felt terrible for thinking that you were cheating. I’m so sorry.”

         You sighed and moved so your head was on his knee, “I just want you to love me, Steve,” you said.

         He ran his fingers through your hair, “I do love you. We need to work on this. Together,” he said, “Just you and me.”

         You nodded, “Together.”

~~~

         Steve helped you with your hangover before anything really deep could happen. And when you woke up from your second round of sleeping, he was right there with his arms around you, “I’m sorry,” he said.

         “For what?” you asked.

         “Not listening to you or believing you. I should have talked to you. I should have had a conversation instead of just jumping to conclusions.”

         “I’m sorry too, Steve,” you said, “For being spiteful and not talking to you either. I should have come to you. I should have talked to you instead of going out like I did. We’re both in this.”

         He nodded and kissed you, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”

         “Then let’s find us again,” you said.

         Steve put his hand behind your head and brought his lips to your passionately, “I think that sounds perfect.”

         “Steve?” you whispered his name against his lips.

         “Yeah, Baby?”

         “Need you.”

         “What do you need, Sweetheart?” he asked.

         “Need you to make love to me,” you said, “Please, Steve.”

         “Oh, Y/N, you never have to beg me for that,” he said.

         You kissed him again, moving your hands down his chest to pull on the t-shirt he was wearing.

         Steve sat up and finished pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before pulling you to a sitting position as well. He gently pulled your shirt up and over your head too, “I love you,” he said, kissing down to your neck, unclasping your bra.

         “I love you too, Steve,” you sighed at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

         Steve moved so that his back was against the headboard, “Come here, Sweetheart,” he said gently.

         You moved to sit on his lap, facing him. His hands were everywhere, touching, feeling, leaving hot sparks in their path.

         Somehow the two of you managed to get both of your pants and underwear off without falling over or off the bed. Feeling your completely bare bodies against each other was enough to bring back the feelings of love.

         You could feel how hard Steve already was between your legs and it just made you wetter to think about it.

         “I’m sorry, Steve,” you said, putting your forehead against his, “I don’t want you to ever think I would sleep with someone else.”

         “I know you love me,” he said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been there.”

         You moved slightly, feeling him slide between your slick folds, “We have to get back to where we were.”

         “We will, Sweetheart,” he said, barely lifting his hips, but it was enough for you to feel him and make you moan.

         “Please, Steve,” you rubbed yourself against him.

         “I’ve got you, Baby,” he said, gently lifting you to line himself up at your entrance, “You ready?”

         You nodded, “So ready.”

         Steve lowered you onto him slowly, both of you moaning as he stretched you, “You feel so good, Baby.”

         You moaned, feeling so full of him, “Steve,” you breathed.

         “That’s my girl,” he said, not moving so you could get used to his side.

         You experimentally started to raise and lower yourself on him, using his shoulders for leverage.

         Steve hissed, “There you go.”

         You started moving faster, feeling him slide in and almost out of you, “Steve,” you moaned his name again.

         Steve put his hands on your hips, “There you go, Baby. Just like that,” he helped you raise and lower, “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

         “I only want you,” you said, starting to go even faster.

         “And I only want you,” he said, thrusting to meet you, “You’re my girl. I love you,” he said.

         “I love you,” you panted.

         Steve looked at you, as the two of you moved together, “Wanna feel you,” he said, “I know you’re close.”

         You nodded furiously, “So close.”

         Steve started thrusting up faster, “Come on, Baby.”

         You felt that familiar feeling inside. You knew your orgasm was fast approaching. You could barely move yourself, Steve was doing all the work at this point, “Steve!” you cried out, feeling your orgasm take over your body.

         “That’s it, Baby,” Steve encouraged. It only took a few more thrusts for him to find his release as well, moaning out your name.

         You were both panting as you came down from your highs, “You’re the only one I want, Steve.”

         He nodded, “I know, Baby. And you’re the only one I want.”

[furidojasutin]

Title: Buddy talk

Pairing: Grayke (Gray x Loke)

Universe: Modern AU

Rating: K+

a/n: This is my entry for the Fairy Tail Reverse Big Bang hosted by @ftguildevents​ ! I was super happy to get to work with the beautiful @rougearts who also made me see the appeal in this ship, actually! You can find her art piece over here --> https://rougearts.tumblr.com/post/628531912470937601/i-am-not-against-shoving-you-off-this-bed-loke  . Make sure to give her work lots of love and follow her on all her blogs, too!! Her writing is amazing and so is her art. 💓 This event was such an amazing idea tbh, so thanks to everyone who helped hosting it and everyone who participated <3

“Ta-da!”

“Wow.” Even if Gray ignored Loke's smugly shimmering eyes, there was a lot to take in. The modern dining table was completely laid. Despite the comparably small surface of the table, there was plenty of different stuff to eat and he'd also spotted the various kinds of bottles near the kitchen counter. The kitchen counter itself? It wasn't as much of a mess as Gray had assumed it would be. After all this time of being friends with Loke, he was still unable to tell if that ginger was more of a clean person or a messy person. Perhaps it depended on the exact situation, really.

“Wow? That's your only reaction? I put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this.”

“Sounds kinda gross, if you ask me,” Gray deadpanned but couldn't help but smile a little when he saw his friend's play-acted offended face.

“Well,” Loke countered, “I've always known that you never had keen eye for things that deserve true appreciation, so I can only feel bad for you I guess.” With a slightly dramatic gesture he left Gray's side to fetch them both a glass from the cupboard.

“Sure, whatever you say, man.” He watched Loke with a shrug, the tiniest curve still not disappeared on his face. Of course he appreciated the effort, he really did. Perhaps he wasn't the best at showing his gratitude most of the time, so he was glad that Loke understood him without him having to say much.

His gaze swerved over the full display of food bowls and the... Wait.

“You prepared all of this yourself?”

Loke froze in his movement for a second and Gray almost missed the hesitation. Almost. When his friend turned around with a glass in each of his hands, he shot a lopsided grin towards Gray. “Weeeell..... Not all of it.”

Gray knew exactly where this was going. “What did you prepare yourself?”

With a roll of his shoulders Loke smoothly turned his back on him to pour them both a glass of wine. “This and that... I toasted the bread and cooked the eggs and-”

“You ordered the rest of the meal.”

“Got me there.”

Even so, starting off the evening with a meal and wine was a very good idea. It was pretty decent wine, too. Before Gray knew it he had already emptied two glasses. They hadn't planned on getting drunk but then again, they hadn't planned out anything really so this night could go anywhere.

Or, almost anywhere.

After they cleaned up they decided to move over to Loke's couch and watch some shitty night tv channel. This channel seriously never disappointed them – there was always something dumb to comment on and make fun about and Gray caught himself laughing at more of Loke's stupid jokes than he wanted to admit. It had always been this way.

The night progressed very fast and it was an absolutely good time. Everything was so easy when he was around Loke. Silly and chill. Gray felt relaxed.

And perhaps it was the bottle of wine that they had killed together (though Gray felt a very tiny buzz at most), but there was something so warm and good about Loke and him just chilling on his bed together and talking about random stuff before sleep would get to them. There was nothing weird about them sharing this bed, nothing weird about two half-naked guys right next to each other and sharing their thoughts.

Until Loke thought that it was a good idea to bring that topic into focus.

“Why again are we talking about this?” Gray averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling instead. He made an effort to sound annoyed but something told him that it wouldn't be so easy to distract Loke from his intention. Ugh... He really didn't like talking about this kinda stuff. And perhaps one of the reasons for this circumstance was right beside him...

“Because you're one of my best friends. And because I'm very curious.” Loke rolled onto his side. “I know all about Cana's love life and-”

“It's not like she has ever tried to make a secret out of it. She's a very blunt person. She loves telling us juicy new information involving her newest crush and so on,” Gray tried to counter.

Without much success.

“I want to know more about your love life, though. We've been buddies for so long and I know that you're not much of a talker, but c'mon. There's got to be somebody, right?”

Something about Loke's tone of voice had changed, but he wasn't able to pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe there was a tad bit less amusement in it, or perhaps he just sounded more serious.

Gray frowned. He still didn't really feel like talking about this. Yea, he'd much rather change the subject. Besides, there wasn't much to tell anyway...

“Okay.” Loke tried again after a moment of silence. Did he realize that he wasn't gonna say much, even if he begged him to? “If you don't want to tell me any stories yourself, how about I ask what I'm curious about and you answer?” A short pause. “Or not-,” Loke added quickly. “If you don't want to.”

So he still wanted to hold onto this topic. And Gray really wondered why. Perhaps it was the wine that they both had consumed and the fact that they were chilling on Loke's bed, comfortable with blanket and pillows and a crappy reality tv series playing in the background still.

With a sigh, Gray decided that he would agree. For as long as he could bear it. “Alright, fine.”

How could he mentally prepare himself for the questions that might come for him? He probably couldn't.

“Okaaay...,” Loke shifted to lie on his back as well and focused on the ceiling, just like Gray. “I know that your relationship with Juvia didn't work out. But I never actually asked if it was you breaking up with her or the other way round. So what was up with that? She's a sweet woman.”

Gray frowned at that. He should have expected Juvia to be the first person to be brought up but he still felt unprepared. On the other hand, it wasn't too hard talking about her, because... “We kinda both did it? It was weird. I think we both just got carried away and didn't realize from the start that we had different feelings for each other that weren't romantic love, you know? We care for each other a lot, just not... in that kinda way. And we're fine with that.” He couldn't believe that the words were just spouting from his mouth like that and that, actually, it wasn't too difficult to talk about it either.

For so long he had always just lived with the perception that he had to hide away his true feelings from anybody. As time went by and he made his true friends, he learned to let go of this perception step by step, but romantic love was a topic that he had barely ever approached up until now. At least when he himself was involved.

“Huh, alright. Totally get that. I mean, you guys are still good friends, right? I haven't seen her in a while.”

“Yea. She's got a new job and it's pretty busy. Didn't Cana meet her last week?” Gray mused loudly.

“No idea,” Loke shrugged before a small grin appeared on his face. “Talking about Cana... Did you ever have the hots for her?”

Now, that was a question Gray had to grimace it. It wasn't because Cana wasn't an amazing woman or didn't look great, but... Their relationship had really turned out to be one between a brother and a sister. They had fun together, she was game for anything and sometimes they annoyed each other just to hang out again not long after.

Of course he knew why Loke was asking. All three of them were pretty close after all. Loke had even been Cana's boyfriend for a short while before they cut it off again, all without any hard feelings. Gray had always admired this casualty a bit.

And Cana and himself? She had been his first kiss... Ah, yea.

“No, not really, I guess...,” he ended up muttering and scratched his nose in a sense of awkwardness. “She's really been more like a sister all this time and I don't think that's gonna change.”

“And that kiss?”

Yea, yea, yea... “That was... just curiosity. We were kids, kids are curious.” Gray still couldn't say it without feeling even more awkward.

Luckily, Loke seemed content enough with this answer and when Gray dared to turn his head so he could catch a glimpse of Loke's face, he spotted the small smile. Was it amusement? Was it happiness? He was unable to figure it out. Maybe it wasn't important.

“Fact is, she's amazing. And we'd definitely miss her in our squad, right?”

Now that was something Gray could agree with without hesitating a single second. “For sure.”

“Okay, so what about Natsu?”

Loke was facing him again now and he actually had to laugh out loud at the face Gray pulled once the question had slipped past his lips. The sound of it made Gray's heart jump but the absurdity of the suggestion was in the forefront of his mind. Natsu? Never in a million years! “Do you still need an answer?” He asked, mumbling and still with a grimace. “Besides, he's with Lucy. Lucy can deal with his hot-tempered ass. Sometimes I feel really sorry for her.”

His best friend had a hard time suppressing his chuckles. “I mean, you two act like an old married couple sometimes. It would be cute as well – if it wasn't for you wanting to bash each other's head in on a regular basis.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Oh, kinky Fullbuster is here.”

“Shut up!”

It was over, Loke was laughing and rolled around on the bed until he almost pushed Gray off the edge. He could be worked up about Loke asking if he had a thing for Natsu, or he could let himself get infected by his friend's laughter, ignoring the soft warmth in his cheeks. He didn't hate Natsu and Natsu didn't hate him. Honestly, they'd probably help each other out of the biggest problems and be there for each other but the bond they had was still more like a... love-hate thing? It was hard to imagine a life without Natsu in it but sometimes he just wanted to throw him into the nearest trash can.

Oh well... The second option won out anyway. At this point it was impossible not to give a laughter of his own and with a quiet, playful curse on his lips he pushed Loke away again so he wouldn't end up falling off the bed after all.

“Calm down man, it wasn't that funny,” he argued and huffed, a not so secret smile on his face, though.

It took another moment for Loke to calm down but eventually he just wiped a single tear off his face and then he was ready to proceed.

Gray had hoped that he was done.

“Okay, okay, okay...” The ginger placed a finger on his lips, looking as though he was thinking hard. Gray didn't trust any of it. How was he still not done? “What about Erza?”

“She's just a good friend.” Although, and that was something he had never told anybody really, he's had a small crush on her years ago. Years ago, really.

“Fine. She's a very impressive woman, though, damn. If she wasn't part of our friendship group I'd be so intimidated.”

“Yea.”

Gray knew that they still were pretty intimidated by her sometimes, though. They just didn't like to admit it.

“Mirajane?”

“Dude, she's a lesbian.”

“The women of this world are very lucky.” Loke sighed and placed the hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling again. “Levy? No wait, she's taken, too. No surprise, she's cute and smart.”

“So don't ask me about Gajeel.” He was almost getting used to these casual suggestions now.

“Right, right. Freed?”

“He's engaged with Laxus, remember?”

“Sure, sure. Two more attractive dudes off the market.” Loke waved him off, but the grin had returned. “Maybe I'm just trying to be nosy and find out what kinda guys you like... And girls. But I'm more curious about the guys.”

And Gray hated how fast this false feeling of casualty disappeared again. It flew right out of the window. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his friend grinning at him and he couldn't handle it right now. He just hoped that his reaction wasn't too obvious and that the warmth tingling in his body was to blame on the remains of the wine (even though they really hadn't drunken much). Harrumphing quietly, he decided to fake-stretch himself and then roll onto his side. “I don't have a type. Are you done, then? I'm kinda tired, seriously.”

Gray wanted to hit himself because of this obvious sounding lie. How more obvious could he be?! Still, the tiny, naive spark of hope that Loke would buy it and just leave it be was there and he felt tense when he awaited his friend's response. It was really late, so that was no lie at least. Late, early? It was starting to get light again outside anyway.

Wow, had they really been talking for so long?! The tv was still on, too, but he hadn't been paying attention to it anymore at all.

“No type?”

He felt Loke shifting and so he decided to fake a yawn. “No, I don't think I have one.”

“Huh, okay, I get it.” Loke was looking over Gray's shoulder, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. Intently he averted his eyes and just stared at Loke's wardrobe, still lying on his side. For a second he thought that Loke was done, but then- “Except that I don't get it. I mean, you only have to take a look at this charming face of mine and you'll be sold.”

More heat seeped into Gray's cheeks immediately and he really, really wanted to blame it on the alcohol again. Was Loke trying to flirt? Was he just being Loke? He could never be too sure about it... There was no way that Loke was seriously having any interest in him like... that, right? Fuck.

He knew that he shouldn't turn his head and look, because that was exactly what his friend wanted him to do. He knew he would be doomed and his heart would make that kind of jump again and make him feel stupid, but...

Turning, with Loke half-hovering above him, he looked straight at him and Loke immediately intensified his stupidly charming grin.

“See? Hooked yet? Nobody can resist this beautiful face.”

There was so much Gray wanted to do, but would never dare to. There were so many thoughts in his head that he wasn't anywhere near ready to voice yet. Loke's illegally suave grin, the colored light of the sunrise beginning to stream through the window, their closeness, the flirty atmosphere...

But it was just them being bros. It had always been this way.

Or had it not?

When had his stupid heart begun to make such a ruckus about Loke? And was there the smallest chance of Loke feeling the same?

Fuck. He hated the conflict this man threw him into and yet, at the same time, he wouldn't want to miss these evenings. Not a single one of them.

And before he even took note of it, he was having a lopsided grin of his own, with the most stupid little hope somewhere in his heart. “Pfft, sure. Try again, man.”

“Oh you know I'm an enthusiastic pursuer of my goals,” Loke countered and adjusted his non-existent tie in a silly way.

“I don't mind', Gray thought to himself and when catching this thought of his he just waved his friend off again and huffed before turning his back on the ginger. With a smile sneaking its way onto his face, he muttered.

“Night, you idiot.”

“Hey, I wasn't done yet,” came the silly complaint from behind him and before Gray knew it, Loke had flopped on top of him. How could he have been so naive to think that a simple 'good night' would shut his friend up? It wasn't like he had a huge issue with Loke flopping onto him, but part of him had and... it wasn't exactly helping his case and all the thoughts he's had around it.

“You can't just turn your back on me like that. What point are you trying to prove? I'm irresistable. And if you're really going to try and escape this simple reality, you've got to try harder than that! Worshiping the beauty that is me is inevitable, Gray.”

Gray knew all too well that Loke could just go on like this forever. At least it hadn't reached the point of him becoming ridiculously poetic about himself yet, although the thought made him want to shake his head and roll his eyes in fondness. Still, he really wanted to sleep. Or perhaps calm down and shut off his brain for now.

So he just tried to shrug Loke off with a huff and grumbled. “I swear, I'll throw you off this bed if I have to.”

“You would yeet me off my own bed?!” A surprise gasp.

“Yea. Yea, I would.”

It was definitely worth it because he finally seemed to get through to his friend and, perhaps more importantly, he got more of Loke's warm laughter before he felt how said man retreated and made himself comfortable without sprawling across him.

“Fine, fine. I don't wanna get yeeted anywhere today, so sleep well, have sweet dreams and all that.”

The chuckle in Loke's voice faded away with his words and then it was quiet.

In this silence and while closing his eyes, Gray decided that Loke's laughter and the sound of his voice definitely weren't the worst things to hear last before falling asleep and that the knowledge of him beside him and the warmth radiating from his body were a kind of comfort that he would like to get used to, like to have and to keep.

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen headcanon: Joshua as Nani and David’s son

from this svt as disney characters’ kids hc i did

a/n: i think there’s a second lilo & stitch or something like that but this isn’t based off of any of that since i haven’t seen it. but i think experiment 002 is in the series sooooo i guess it is kinda based off the series too

warnings: josh x female reader, hybrids, a small mention of death in the very beginning, mentions of bullying

-

So at first, Nani wanted Josh to be raised not knowing anything about aliens or experiments

It’s her first kid and she wanted him to be,,,,,”normal” for lack of a better word

But of course, that was very difficult, and Joshua ended up knowing about aliens around the time he was 2 or 3

David’s honestly impressed they even got that far tbh

“That’s all still a part of him,” David explained. “The aliens and the weird stuff, that’s just how his family is. We can’t keep him away from it.”

He even got his own experiment as a “pet” when he was about 5 or 6

Mrs. Hasagawa had passed away, and the experiments that she thought were ‘cats’ needed a home

Josh picked out experiment 002 aka Doubledip

He was a cute and essentially harmless (other than the fact that Joshua grew up basically sharing every single food he ate with Doubledip like ice cream and lollipops and stuff)

Josh nicknamed him DD and Double D, and they’ve been together ever since

As a kid, Joshua was super close with Lilo, Stitch, Jumba, and Pleakley

He absolutely adored all of them and always wanted to go hang out with them despite Nani being lowkey upset about it

“It’s fine, they’ll keep him safe,” David would always remind her. “They’re ohana after all.”

However, there reached a point where Joshua got bullied kind of like Lilo did

His norm wasn’t necessarily the norm for everyone else

No one else believed in aliens or experiments

No one else had the same thoughts and ideas that Joshua did

No one else was interested in the same things Joshua was

He knew he had to say DD was his dog, but he didn’t think that he would have to be a completely different person just to fit in

But that’s what he did

Instead of focusing on aliens and experiments, he focused on surfing

Thankfully, he was raised learning how to surf, but now that was his #1 interest

He stopped visiting his aunt and Stitch as often

The only real connection to his ‘weird’ side was DD because how could he just give up his childhood best friend?

Well, other than Seokmin

Seokmin was always the only person who ever knew what Joshua was truly like, and he even tried to stop Josh from changing himself to fit in

“I can literally grow a tail!” Seokmin pointed out. “I talk to a dolphin on a daily basis! I’m the king of weird, and I’m still a prince!”

“Yeah, but that’s normal in your kingdom,” Joshua pouted as he sat out in the ocean on his surfboard, talking with Seokmin. “Here, it’s not. Normal isn’t experiments and aliens and spaceships.”

So despite his best efforts, Joshua just became as average as possible, which he would have to see when they hung out on the beach and went for walks together

But in the ocean, Josh could say and do whatever he wanted without being judged

Like feeding Pudge the fish’s offspring

So since becoming less weird since he was a kid, Joshua got more friends, including the girl who worked at the froyo place he often hung out with Seokmin at

And pretty much everyone calls him Shua

Her name was Mali and she feared the ocean despite living a five minute walk away

He usually spends most of his time there so that’s how they met

He’s basically just a regular

And it’s at that froyo shop that Joshua’s life starts to change

“So y’know Seungcheol?” Seokmin asks

“Not really,” Joshua shrugs. “I just know you talk about him and he’s a prince of some other kingdom.”

“Right, well he’s having a birthday party this weekend, and I can bring a plus one. Since I don’t have a princess or anything to bring, I wanted to bring you.”

“Really? Why not like, one of those girls lined up to date you or whatever? What are they called?”

Joshua obviously isn’t royalty so he doesn’t know much about these things

But it’s fine because Seokmin doesn’t know anything about experiments or surfing either

“I don’t want to bring a date, I want to bring my best friend!”

“I thought your best friend was Kipper.”

“I can’t bring a dolphin on land, barnacle head.”

Cue Josh flinging his damp towel at Seokmin’s head and going, “Not cool, bro.”

And Mali sighing behind the counter about how, “We really need a sign that requires you to wear a shirt in here.”

So skip to Seungcheol’s party

Admittedly, Joshua is pretty nervous

He keeps trying on different clothes but all he really owns are shorts, t-shirts, tank tops, flip flops/sandals, and sneakers

He’s a surfer dude okay, he doesn’t really need to dress up for anything

“DD, does this look okay?”

DD simply ignores him and continues to lick the bowl of candy Josh keeps for him

David and Nani have to help him find something decent to wear

Although David insists he should wear something super fancy since Seungcheol is royalty

“So...is he a lion then, or...?” he keeps asking

And then Joshua has to explain for the hundredth time that he’s kind of a lion-human hybrid thanks to magic stuff and yadda yadda yadda 

Tbh, Josh doesn’t even get it

Seokmin finally picks him up, and they go to Seungcheol’s kingdom for the party

With David still asking questions even after they leave because he doesn’t understand this magic concept

And yet he understands aliens

Sort of

Josh is used to acting normal to fit in, but now he’s trying to act Extra Normal TM

But god he’s so curious because he’s never really been outside of Hawaii so he can’t help but just look around in wonder at all the sights and the people

And then Seokmin asked, “Do you wanna meet Seungcheol?”

“Like...the prince?” Joshua stammered

“You do remember that I’m a prince too, right?”

“Yeah, but-- DD!”

Joshua suddenly spotted his experiment trying to eat the cupcakes

He didn’t even know DD went with him, but he assumes the little experiment hopped into his backpack before he left

“So much for acting normal...” Seokmin mumbled under his breath before running over to help Josh with his little problem

Now, 002 wouldn’t be an issue, but his name is Doubledip

Essentially, all he’s going to do is lick all of the food before putting it back

If you couldn’t tell, that’s disgusting

So DD is loose at the party of a royal, and it would be all Joshua’s fault that the food is ruined

So the urgency to collect DD and get him back into Joshua’s backpack is very, very valid

Well, and the fact that Joshua wants to come across as normal as possible

Thankfully, DD only licked 5 cupcakes and 3 mini hot dogs wrapped in croissants before Joshua managed to stuff him back into his backpack and handed him a bowl of pretzels to keep him occupied

And it was as Joshua was zipping his backpack up that he accidentally bumped into you

You lived in Seungcheol’s kingdom, but you were one of the people who actually quite liked him

Since Seungcheol is Kovu’s son and Kovu was considered bad before, there’s some controversy over him but that’s another story for another time

You wanted a drink and he accidentally backed up into you

You spilled your drink a little but at least it didn’t get on your clothes

You both spun around and began apologizing even though you didn’t really do anything so you weren’t sure why you were apologizing

“I-I can get you a new drink!” he stammered

“It’s really fine,” you assured him with a polite smile.

But you’d never really seen either of them around, and you figured you should mingle a little since you were here, right?

“You guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you asked.

The one behind him stepped forward and smiled brightly, “Nope! I’m Prince Seokmin, the son of King Eric and Queen Ariel.”

“Oh! It’s an honor to meet you!” you bowed to him before looking expectantly at the one who’d bumped into you.

“That’s just Shua,” Seokmin shrugged. “He’s from Hawaii.”

But y’know what, just Shua from Hawaii was kinda cute

And he thought the same

Plus, you just seemed normal and that’s what he wanted

You were just wearing some jeans, a nice shirt, a cardigan, and a beanie

Compared to all the royalty and important people here, you were like a breath of fresh air

“Hey, Seokmin!” a new voice called

And Prince Seungcheol strolled over and grinned at the other prince he called his friend

“Oh, I see you’ve brought a friend -- and you met _____!”

Seokmin introduced the two and then the four of you continued to make some small talk

You were just thankful that Seungcheol didn’t say or do anything to blow your cover

He eventually walked away to greet other guests, leaving the three of you alone again

But you continued to talk

Seokmin kinda took the hint that he was a bit of a third wheel at this point and left to find someone else to talk to

He’s a prince and he knows other princes so it’s fine

He mumbled something about wishing someone named Wonwoo was there but you didn’t pay any attention to it

You talked about where he was from, what he did for fun, what his family was like and stuff

He may have slightly bullshitted and/or left out some things but it’s fine

You also talked about you and what you did and your family

You may have also slightly bullshitted and/or left things out but again, it’s fine

Eventually, Joshua asked if you wanted to dance since you’d been standing at the snack table just talking this whole time

And since Seokmin was a great wingman and took the bag with DD in it, he was safe to do whatever

So you agreed and the two of you danced and talked all night

And you were so worried when the party was over that you wouldn’t see him again

But he asked if there was any way he could see you again and your heart fluttered

And you said you were sure you could make that happen

You had to figure out what surfing was, anyway

But after that was all over and you went home and the butterflies had died down just enough for you to think about something other than your growing crush on Joshua from Hawaii

You remembered that you weren’t exactly who or what he thought you were

And now you had to keep that hidden from him

And you weren’t sure how long you could do that

And when Joshua was on the way home with Seokmin, who was happily talking all about how he got to see Hansol again and he finally got to meet Hyunggu and everything

DD popped out of the backpack with his bowl of now salt-less pretzels

And Joshua remembered that you didn’t know what he was really like

Or his family

And now he’d have to keep that a secret from you, too

So fast forward to the next weekend, and you were planning to visit him

Joshua was doing his absolute best to like, hide everything

Make sure Lilo, Stitch, and any of the others won’t be around

Make sure his cousin won’t be hanging around

Make sure DD is at Lilo’s

Meanwhile, you had to make sure you looked normal before you left

Which was basically just wearing normal bottoms and wearing a hat

So when you arrived in Hawaii, Joshua was there to eagerly greet you

Though he didn’t really seem it on the outside

He’s the stereotypical surfer dude so he’s just very chill overall

He basically had the whole weekend planned out

Most of it consisted of teaching you how to surf

“I actually hate the water,” you admitted as he walked with you down the beach toward the water

He chuckled, “Well, then you’ll hate surfing. It’s in the water”

So instead of surfing, he compromised and made sand castles with you on the beach

He said something about wanting to show you the joys of fresh coconut milk so you offered to climb up and get one

“Nah, it’s cool,” he chuckled. “It’s high up anyway.”

“I’m a great climber!” you reassured him

And then you climbed up a tree and got him a coconut

But then he had to open it himself which was a whole struggle by itself

And then he brought you to his favorite place to go after surfing: the froyo shop

“Make a new friend, Shua?” Mali smirked

“Be nice. This is _____, she’s from Seungcheol’s kingdom. You know him, right?”

“Kovu and Kiara’s kid, right?”

You noticed that Mali joked around with Joshua a lot, but it was very lighthearted

You liked her

He had to work that night but he invited you because he worked as a fire torch performer (dude fuck if i know the correct term) at a restaurant

Which also meant you got to meet his parents, David and Nani

“So you’re the girl he’s been talking about so much,” David grinned as he went to shake your hand

And then Nani gently whacked him in the shoulder and reminded him, “You weren’t supposed to mention that,” in a hushed tone

Which you heard

David only shrugged and gestured to you, “Well she’s blushing, isn’t she?”

Overall, you thought his parents were great

Though, they did seem a little strange

Then again, who were you to judge?

David would start to say something only for Nani to quickly cut him off

You decided to not think much of it

You did have to admit, watching Josh twirl fire around without burning anything or himself was impressive

Why did he have to seem so perfect?

Afterwards, he joined you guys for dinner

Nobody let the alien thing slip, so overall, he thought it went pretty good

He was really sad to see you go but you promised you’d come back again soon

And you did

The two of you actually saw each other a lot

And feelings on both sides only continued to grow

He did finally have to introduce you to Lilo and Stitch and DD, though

He knew he couldn’t keep them hidden forever, and besides, everyone still fell for the dog thing when it came to the two experiments

Well, Doubledip was originally supposed to be a ‘cat’ but whatever

And Josh just made Lilo swear to not talk about aliens or mention anything weird

“I really like this girl,” he explained to her, “so don’t mess it up”

“You know, I’m fantastic with girls!” Pleakley chimed in

Joshua quickly shook his head, “You and Jumba aren’t invited”

So eventually, you had met all of Joshua’s family

Well, he called it ohana and explained what it meant, and you thought it was really cute

He was happy to find that you did buy the dog story, and you really liked DD and you got along with Stitch

Tbh he was most worried about Stitch

DD gets along with pretty much anyone, but Stitch isn’t so easy

Things were going super well, so he was ready to ask you to actually be his girlfriend

He brought you on a nice picnic on the beach where the two of you first hung out

And he had everything laid out and the two of you were starting to eat, and he was going to ask

But then he heard his name being shouted from down the beach

Lilo was out and about with her daughter and Stitch

And Stitch was very excited to see you

He bolted down the beach toward you and jumped on you, knocking you back onto the blanket

And also knocking your hat off your head

Out popped your fuzzy white round ears

Stitch pulled back and looked at you, head cocked to one side

Joshua just froze and stared at you

Because you weren’t technically human

You were from Seungcheol’s kingdom, so you were an animal that used magic to stay human

That magic turned you into a human/animal hybrid, just like Seungcheol

But instead of being a lion, you were a lemur

It was why you wore hats to hide your ears and jeans and skirts to hide your tail

It was why you didn’t like water

It was why you could climb trees so well

You weren’t normal

And now Joshua knew that

“I-I gotta go,” you quickly stuttered out, grabbing your hat and scrambling to get up

“_____--”

You shook your head, jamming your hat back on your head to conceal your ears, “Save it, I already know what it is.”

“B-but you’re-- What are you...?”

“I’m a lemur, alright?” you huffed, tears pricking your eyes because you knew Joshua was not going to want anything to do with you

Even though you were a human and could stay human, you couldn’t get rid what you really were

It was weird, and people didn’t like weird

“You don’t have to say anything about it,” you continued as you tried your best to keep from crying, “because I already know you’re going to say I’m weird and you won’t want anything to do with me. So I’ll go and I won’t bother you again. And...I’m sorry for not telling you.”

And then you ran up the beach, not looking back once

Joshua sighed and dropped his head, closing his eyes as he rubbed over his face with his hands

Stitch just looked up at him and said, “Oops...”

Heartbroken, Joshua walked back home alone

Nani and David knew what he was planning, so they were so excited for him to get home

But seeing him with a frown as he threw the half-empty picnic basket on the counter before going to his bedroom without a word, they knew something was wrong

“I’ll take this one,” David told her before going to Joshua’s room

David knocked softly before entering to find his son face down on his bed

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he mumbled into his pillow

“Did...she say no?”

“I didn’t even get to ask, dad,” he sighed, lifting his head to look at David

“Did something come up?”

“Stitch tackled her and knocked her hat off and she...”

How was Joshua supposed to explain this?

He could deal with aliens and experiments, but human animals were something he hadn’t dealt with before

Would his dad even believe him?

“What? She got a weird haircut or something?” David chuckled

“She had fuzzy animal ears,” Joshua finally told him straight-out. “She’s an animal that’s human by magic.”

“Ah, right. That stuff you explained before. Y’know, Nani had to tell me how that worked like, seven times before I really got it.”

Joshua just let out a groan and dropped his head back in his pillow again

David sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, “Who are you to judge? You keep an experiment as a pet -- and worse, it licks everything you eat.”

Joshua pushed himself to sit up and sat beside his dad, “That’s not it, dad. I still like her, it’s just--”

“I thought you wanted a ‘normal’ girl, though?”

He just shrugged, “I like her. But she ran away before I could tell her. Besides, I’m way weirder...”

“Then if you like her for being a little different, why can’t you be okay with yourself being different?”

“A little?”

“Do you think being an animal is only a little different?”

And it’s that talk that caused Joshua to go after you

He packed up the photo of his ohana that he kept on his nightstand

And he packed DD

And he left for Seungcheol’s kingdom

You were obviously just as upset, if not more, back home

The silver lining was that you could wear your usual pants which had a hole cut in them for your tail to comfortably stick out

You wanted to spend the next day just sulking

But you ended up being called to Seungcheol, claiming there was someone who needed to talk to you

Joshua got Seokmin to bring him to Seungcheol’s because he realized he had no idea how he’d find you

And walking into Seungcheol’s throne room, Joshua was the last person you expected to see

“Sh-Shua? But...w-what are you--”

“I like you,” he blurted before you could finish what you were saying. “I like you with your ears and your tail because you’re still you. But before you say anything, just... These are things you should know about me, too.”

He opened his bag, and out popped DD

“Double D isn’t my dog. He’s an alien experiment from outer space, and the only thing he knows how to do is double dip foods, and lick things before putting them back. He’s stupid, and I love him”

Then he pulled out a framed picture and handed it to you

You looked it over and saw it was Joshua, Nani, David, Lilo, Lilo’s two kids, Stitch, DD, and some...things you didn’t recognize

“That’s my whole ohana. It’s not just the people I let you meet.”

He told you all about the aliens included in the photo, and you listened, glancing between the picture and him

And when he was done, you just stared at him because honestly, you didn’t suspect him to be anything but normal

But for some reason, maybe because he could relate to you, you liked him even more

Neither of you were considered ‘normal’ so didn’t that make you an even better match?

“I just...wanted you to know that before you decided to never speak to me again,” Joshua concluded

You weren’t sure what to say even though you knew exactly what you wanted to say

You just didn’t really know how to say it

“This is the part you tell him you still like him, too,” Seungcheol whispered in your ear

While Seokmin was Joshua’s wingman, apparently Seungcheol became yours

“I like you, too,” you told him with a sheepish smile, feeling your cheeks heat up

Joshua’s grin matched the brightness of the sun

“So...you wanna go out sometime?” Joshua asked

To which Seokmin whispered, “You’ve already done that before. Just ask her to be your girlfriend, kelp-for-brains”

So he does

And you accept

The next time you visit, you properly meet his ohana

Jumba and Pleakley definitely take a little getting used to but you do think they’re pretty amusing with the way they bicker

“They’re like an old married couple!”

“Don’t say that in front of Jumba, though”

You visit him all the time

So often that sometimes you just spend weeks there at a time

You eventually work your way up to being able to sit on Joshua’s board while he surfs

He makes sure to only go on baby waves so that way you don’t fall over or get wet

You befriend Mali at the froyo shop, and despite roasting Joshua sometimes, she always says how cute the two of you are

And the two of you live happily ever after

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

My Little Secret part 9

Summary: Your next date with Arthur takes an unexpected turn when Sam invites the both of you to Saint Denis for the night.

Warnings: Alcohol mention

Friday evening arrived before you knew it. You powered through your schoolwork and got a few hours’ worth of studying in. It was early evening before you turned your attention elsewhere, nighttime would be soon and that Arthur would be arriving shortly afterward. You weren’t sure if it was to be a date or just…hanging out, you supposed it could be both. You debated on whether to dress up or keep yourself as is.

You also didn’t want to bore Arthur by just asking him a bunch of questions all night. You had a decent DVD collection and a few more movies on demand, and wondered what kind of genres he was into, if he were into movies at all. It was a different setting; normally you reserved dates at home for later into the relationship. Then again, you weren’t in a normal relationship.

Not much more time passed when you heard the ring of your doorbell, and you pranced forward in excitement to answer. You opened the door to find Arthur was standing there patiently, greeting you with a smile.

He was wearing a dark red button-up shirt, though some of the top buttons were left open to give you a nice view of his chest with just the right amount of hair peeking through. The sleeves were rolled up, and his hands rested on the belt that held up his dark jeans. Jesus did he look good.

“How do you manage that?” was the first thing that left your mouth.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “What?”

“Look so damn fine,” you answered, reaching out to selfishly run your hands on his chest without second thought. He felt solid beneath your fingertips. “Like some sorta model.”

He chuckled in response, his own hands reaching for yours to hold them and entwine his fingers with you. Stepping closer to you, he drew you in for a gentle kiss. Had it lasted longer than a few seconds, you would have melted right then and there. “Could say the same about you, ya know.” He murmured.

You glanced down at yourself. You wore a pair of form-fitting yoga pants hugged your legs and a loose fitting t-shirt that had the school’s logo printed across it. Your hair had been pulled into a loose bun. It occurred to you just then and there you definitely should have changed into something much more decent. “You like this look?” you asked him.

“I like you,” he answered sincerely. “Don’t matter what you’re wearin’, sweetheart.”

Heat of a blush flared in your cheeks as you smiled bashfully, and you tugged him in past the threshold. “Then tell me more how pretty I am inside.”

He laughed in response, keeping in step with you as he entered your apartment. You released his hands and glanced behind you toward the couch. “So, you wanna watch something?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted to ask more questions.” He pointed out.

“I do, but I don’t want that to be the basis of our whole relationship, ya know? We might as well try some other things, like a regular couple would.” You explained. “And then I’ll ask after.”

“Fair ‘nough,” he said with a nod. “Sure, I’d love to watch somethin’.”

You smile and gestured toward the couch, to which he sat down on while you moved over to your shelf of DVDs. You picked out something easy: a simple action movie that didn’t involve too much blood or gore. Could a vampire be sickened by that sort of thing? Or perhaps it would remind him of a time of his outlaw days. Either way, you were testing the waters. Plucking it from between the other cases, you straightened back up and faced him. “How often do you watch movies, Arthur?”

He shrugged. “As much as any other person. I’ve seen that movie before, nice choice.” He approved.

You let out a mental sigh of relief and moved over to the TV to place the disk in before you sat on the couch. Just as the movie started, your phone rang. Sighing heavily and apologizing to Arthur, you pull out your phone and glanced at the screen. You hit the answer button. “What is it, Sam?” you ask, keeping your voice as light as possible.

“Hey girl, wanna head to Saint Denis tonight?” Sam greeted off the bat. “I’m bored as hell and everyone else is busy.”

“Sam, I’m with Arthur at the moment.” You answer.

“So bring him along! I wanna get to know the guy dating my best friend.”

“I don’t think he –”

“Ask him,” Sam interjected. “C’mon, just try. I can pick you guys up and we’ll do whatever.”

You sighed again and turned your attention to Arthur. “Sam wants us to go to Saint Denis with her, you wanna go?” you ask, although already knowing he’d refuse, remembering what he said to you when you ran into him last time in the city.

“Saint Denis?” he repeated, rubbing his chin in thought. “I ‘spose it’ll be okay for a bit.”

You blinked in surprise, taken completely off guard by his response. “You sure?” you mouthed to him, and when he flashed you a small smile, you answered Sam. “Alright, I guess we’re going.”

“Awesome, I’ll come by in a half hour.” Sam bid you a goodbye before hanging up.

You placed your phone down, and gave Arthur a look of curiosity. “I thought you didn’t like Saint Denis.”

Arthur shrugged again. “She said she wanted to get to know the guy who’s dating her best friend, might as well.”

“Yeah but I just wanted a night in.” you murmured, standing to your feet. You definitely had to get dressed now.

“You coulda said no.” Arthur reminded you, his voice rumbling with a laugh.

“I know I could have, but Sam’s too damn persistent. If I don’t do it tonight then she’ll keep pestering me to bring you around sooner or later,” You explained while you rolled your eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Y/N. We’ll still have many more nights ya know.” he flashed you a smile.

Your smile mirrored his. “True, let me go get dressed. You hang tight.”

You opted to change into a low-cut shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that had metallic studs running up the sides of your legs. Taking your hair out of the bun you put into a high ponytail, and completed the look with a denim jacket and a pair of high-heel ankle boots. You didn’t feel like dolling completely up, but at least it was something to make you feel a little sexier in front of Arthur.

You stepped back out into the living room, catching his attention. He peered you up and down with a gleam in his eye that you caught easily.

“You…” he averted his gaze shyly before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, you look amazin’.”

You giggled, stepping closer to him. “Thought I might as well give you something prettier to look at.” You said.

“Darlin’, you could be wearin’ a potato sack and I still think you’re the prettiest woman in the room,” He spoke. “Not that I’m complainin’.”

With a few minutes of downtime you gave Arthur a baseline of what to expect from Sam. She’s been your best friend since your undergrad days and always loved to learn more about the guys you dated. Even if it seemed overwhelming, she was always good at sniffing out those who were worth more time than others.

A little more time passed before Sam texted to inform you she was outside. Together you and Arthur made your way out of the apartment complex, stepping out into the humidity to see the large SUV idling at the curbside with Sam leaning against it, waiting expectantly.

She was as enthusiastic as ever, greeting Arthur excitedly before ushering you into the car. Arthur offered to take the back seat while you took the front passenger seat. Sam pulled away from the curb and you were on your way.

The first few minutes were full of Sam’s chatter, getting to know Arthur more herself. She asked him easy questions before moving on to inquiring about how he was treating you. You interrupted then to assure her he was treating you just fine. She however insisted Arthur answer the question, only satisfied when his answered mirrored yours.

“Sorry Arthur, grilling people is a specialty of hers.” You mentioned, which only prompted Sam to laugh.

“Only when my best friend breaks her own vow to not date while still in school. You must be one hell of a guy,” She joked. “You’re cool, though. I’ll back off.”

“Appreciate it,” Arthur chuckled. “Uh, mind if I ask ya somethin’?”

“Sure,” Sam answered. “If you’re wondering how hard a partier she is, I’ll tell you that –”

“Sam.” You warned.

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” Arthur continued, resting his hand on your arm. “It’s ‘bout you, Sam. Is your last name Marston, by any chance?”

Sam glanced back at him. “Holloway. But my mother’s maiden name is Marston, why?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a small smile cross Arthur’s lips. “Think I might’ve met your family at some point. You jus’ remind me o’ them.”

“Really? Most of my family are in the Blackwater area, you’ve been?” Sam responded.

“Plenty o’ times.” He confirmed.

You turned your head to look at Arthur fully, only he leaned back into his seat. You wondered if he really did know her family, though you suppose it could be possible.

The rest of the ride consisted of you and Sam talking or jamming out to music on the radio. Arthur was mostly quiet, and you attempted to bring him into the conversation a few times. You didn’t want to intentionally leave him out. He didn’t speak too much, although the look on his face told you he was just fine where he was. His immortal age aside, he was still a 36 year old man in the company of 27 year olds. He was more than likely allowing you two to chatter amongst yourselves about your own interests.

That however didn’t stop you from reaching over and taking his hand in yours. He smoothed his thumb over your skin rhythmically the entire time.

Soon the dark sky broke to the amber lights of Saint Denis. The city was bustling as usual, multiple people out and about enjoying the night.

“So, any ideas for our entertainment tonight?” Sam asked.

You hummed in thought, considering what would be enjoyable for the three of you. Since Arthur couldn’t eat nor drink, your usual suggestions flew out the window.

“How ‘bout I treat ya both to dinner?” Arthur suddenly spoke up.

You blinked in surprise, turning to look at him.

“Both of us?” Sam questioned. “That’s not necessary.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to do that.” You agreed.

Arthur shrugged. “Repayment for drivin’ us. It ain’t exactly a short trip.”

A smile crossed Sam’s lips. “Y/N’s right, you really are a gentleman.”

Arthur chuckled in response. “No reason not to be.”

Twenty minutes later found yourself in one of the less populated diners of the city. Both you and Sam were enjoying delicious meals while Arthur sat with you. Sam had asked why he didn’t order anything himself, and he answered with the same lie he told you on your first date: food intolerances. She didn’t question it further, instead brought the conversation elsewhere. He was more talkative then.

When your food was finished, the three of you stepped back outside. The night was still fairly young and alive, prompting you to ponder what else you could do.

“So what’s next?” Sam spoke out, voicing your thoughts. “How about our favorite bar?”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to have Arthur speak over you.

“You two can go on ahead, I’ll join ya in a bit.”

You gave him a look of confusion, catching his eye to notice an emotion you couldn’t detect. “Where are you going?”

“Jus’ gotta take care o’ somethin’. I’ll meet ya there.” He answered, stepping forward to plant a quick kiss on your forehead. While his lips were pressed against your skin, his voice dropped to a low mumble. “Be careful, alright? Remember what I said ‘bout… others.”

As he retreated giving you a subtle but pointed look, it only then occurred to you what he meant. You remembered what he told you about “other” vampires, ones that drained their victim’s blood without second thought. Somehow you’d forgotten about what happened here in this same city. But by the amount of people that still roamed the streets, it was clear the concern over it was pushed to the wayside.

It then led you to your next thought: what was Arthur doing? Perhaps he needed some blood himself, and you reminded yourself that he only went after bad people. At least so he said.

Your thought was cut short when Sam tugged on your arm. She pulled you toward the direction of the bar, which was only a few blocks away.

The place was as busy as you expected to be, the air conditioned building stuffy with the amount of bodies. You procured a drink and kept off to the side, swaying your hips to the music that played overhead. Time wore on and your vision slowly grew more unfocused with the influence of liquor. A half hour had passed and Arthur hadn’t returned, this solidifying your suspicion from earlier. He most likely was looking for a blood meal, hopefully tracking down some fool with less than pure thoughts for that night.

Unless something else happened.

You shook your head and mentally scolded yourself. Arthur was more than capable of handling himself. After witnessing him crush Tom’s hand with little effort in protecting you, and the fact that he was once a gunslinging outlaw.

You smiled to yourself. That little reminder of you dating a once-famous outlaw still sent your heart into a tizzy. How many others would be able to say that? Hell, how many others could say they’re dating a vampire?

Sobriety soon began to slip through your fingers with even more time passed. You moved through the bar, observing others and occasionally holding a small conversation with Sam or a stranger. With more people filing in every once in a while, the air is was beginning to grow stuffy. Another drink down and you stepped outside. Not that the weather was much different, it provided you with a little space. There were a few others standing around, smoking cigarettes or just chatting. You craned your neck to see if Arthur was among these faces, and sighed in disappointment. Did it really take that long just to acquire a blood meal?

You shuddered with that thought. It certainly wasn’t a normal thought to cross your mind. You instead shifted your focus elsewhere. Your eyes slowly drifted back and forth between others; young couples out and about, not a care in the world with their faces bright and cheerful.

Your attention was soon broken when someone had stumbled in front of you. Stepping back in time to avoid being trampled on, you blinked and watched an obviously drunk man clamor his way down the sidewalk. You grimaced as he smacked his hand onto a light pole, but he paid no mind as he turned down an alleyway next to the bar.

Somehow this concerned you. He was clearly too inebriated to really walk straight, and you wondered if he knew what direction he was going in. You also wondered if he was alone or possibly had friends. Either way, you didn’t want him to accidentally injure himself or get lost.

You scurried toward the alley. The sound of metal trashcans slamming to the ground told you he was thankfully still there. His drunken yelp was to follow. He certainly felt that more than the pole, somehow.

You rounded the corner to face the alleyway. The cans were on their sides with bits of trash strewn about. The poor fool kept stumbling haphazardly further in, and you quickened your pace.

“Hey, stop!” you called after him, but he either ignored you or just didn’t hear. Up ahead he turned and disappeared again. You grumbled and started to jog, or as much as your shoes would allow. “Sir, hang on!”

You rounded another corner he disappeared to, spotting him on the far side of that conjoining alleyway. You were impressed by how far he’d already gotten despite being absolutely shitfaced.

Until he tripped over his own two feet and landed face first onto the concrete below. You sighed heavily, partially in relief. You made your way toward him, squinting into the ever growing darkness. As your eyes adjusted you could see him struggling to get to his feet. He was moaning in pain and slurring under his breath.

“Sir?” you called out gently. “Hey, you okay?”

The response you’d gotten sounded like a cross between a yes and some other incomprehensible stuttering. You stepped up next to him and bent down to help him to his feet, realizing he was heavier than he looked. He grunted and leaned his body weight against you to straighten up.

He muttered a thanks, the liquor strong on his breath as he began to stumble off in the direction he came in. You moved to follow him when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. You only had time to turn your head a fraction of an inch when a blurred figure suddenly appeared in front of you, slamming into the drunk.

You jumped as the sound of his body smacking against the wall echoed in the alley. Your eyes took a moment to adjust what you were seeing in front of you. A figure had him pinned against the wall in an embrace that almost seemed intimate. It was too familiar to you, knowing it was anything than a kiss.

“Arthur?” you spoke automatically.

A disgusting squelch sounded when the figure pulled their mouth from the drunk’s neck. The smell of fresh blood tainted the air as they turned their attention toward you. Even in the dark you could see the reflection of a predator in their eyes. A gaunt face framed with thick dark hair told you this was not Arthur.

This new vampire opened his mouth wide, revealing a pair of long razor sharp fangs.

[starlightbuck]

safe inside

word count: 5.6k || read on AO3 || cowritten with @bilbobagglns​ in honor of @letitialewiss​‘s birthday

World-famous actor TK Strand and his bodyguard Carlos find themselves seeking shelter from fans and paparazzi in a bakery Carlos knows very well.

Or

Baking leads to a few life changes.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

TK freezes in the middle of shrugging out of his cobalt blue blazer. The soft fabric rests in the crook of his elbows and he tries to focus on that instead of Marjan. “It was a good meeting.”

“The meeting that you swore up and down was a waste of time and that you said was going to bore you to tears was good?”

“Yeah,” TK says, the response tasting pathetic on his tongue. As an actor, and a pretty successful one at that, shouldn’t he be better at lying?

Marjan laughs as she takes the blazer TK holds out to her and hands him a distressed denim jacket in return. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

She busies herself with putting the blazer away in a garment bag, while TK slides his jacket on. It’s his favorite and usually makes him feel untouchable, but that feeling has been subdued by Marjan. Her attention to detail and capacity to remember even the most offhanded comments TK makes in regard to his wardrobe is what makes her the perfect stylist for all of his needs. However, those same traits are much less convenient when it comes to getting the truth out of him.

Marjan is right though. TK did spend the past week complaining about today’s meeting and, just like he said, it was painfully boring. So much so that Paul, TK’s agent, had to nudge TK multiple times to make sure he stayed awake. TK is entirely sure that the meeting could’ve gone on without him there but, had that been the case, he would’ve missed out on the news that currently has him in such a good mood.

The same news he’s looking forward to sharing with one person in particular.

“Was Carlos in the hall when you came in?”

“Yeah, he was.”

The three words shouldn’t be enough to set TK’s heart racing and yet, that’s exactly what it does. “Can you send him in on your way out?”

“Of course.” Marjan grabs her things, including a few alternative outfits she brought along with her for TK’s meeting. “And just so you know, he’s looking especially handsome today. I’m usually not a fan of all-black ensembles, but he’s definitely pulling it off.”

Heat floods TK’s cheeks and he has to hold back from covering his face. It’s an annoying reaction that’s still fairly new to him. Usually he’s full of confidence when it comes to guys, but there’s something different about Carlos. Something TK has been trying his hardest not to think about. “Marjan!”

She shrugs, looking extremely unapologetic. “What? I figured you’d want to know.” When TK doesn’t say anything, her expression softens. It’s a shift in demeanor that he’s only seen a handful of times since they began working together. It sets him on edge immediately. “Are you still trying to ignore your feelings for him?”

Feelings.

When she puts it like that, it makes the whole situation sound much simpler than it actually is. In a perfect world, it might’ve been.

But this isn’t a perfect world. TK’s a celebrity, Carlos is his bodyguard and, no matter how much his feelings have grown for Carlos over the years, he cannot act on them. He won’t. Carlos is the sun, TK is dark grey clouds, and he refuses to be the reason for dulling Carlos’s shine.

“I can’t like him.”

“Says who?” Marjan shoots back without missing a beat.

TK’s heart bangs painfully against his ribcage, reminding him that what he feels towards Carlos is something that he’s meant to keep to himself. “Because he works for me.”

“And?”

“And I can’t I-” TK’s mind travels back to a whirlwind romance with a co-star that led him down a path he never wants to travel down again. “I just can’t.”

TK is hoping to leave it at that as his previous good mood deep dives off the ledge into something much less positive.

Marjan must sense the shift because she frowns. “Carlos isn’t Alex, TK.” And you deserve to be happy.”

She leaves the room then, but her words still hang heavily in the air. It’s possible that TK would’ve spiraled into overanalyzing what she said and thinking back on a relationship he’d much rather forget had it not been for a knock at his door.

“TK?” Carlos calls through the door. “Can I come in?”

TK clears his throat, shaking his arms out in an attempt to shake off his declining mood. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, an imposing figure in all black enters the room. TK hates that Marjan was right - Carlos does look especially handsome today.

“Hey,” Carlos greets, his bright smile a direct contrast to the dark outfit he’s wearing. As an actor, TK should be used to people’s ability to transform from who they really are into the character they’re playing, but he’s never adjusted to watching Carlos do the same. One second, he’s smiling and the human embodiment of a cuddly teddy bear. Then, in the next second, he’s a fierce bodyguard ready to hurt anyone who tries to harm TK. “How was your meeting? As boring as you kept saying it’d be?”

“I mentioned that to you too?”

“Just a few dozen times,” Carlos says with a laugh. He walks further into the room, doing his usual cursory check before standing in front of TK. When he does, his smile devolves into a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

Carlos does this a lot, locks onto TK’s emotions before TK even gets a chance to verbalize them. It could be said that it’s a skill he’s picked up after working for TK for close to three years now, but saying that would be a disservice to Carlos. The bodyguard has a way with people like no one TK has ever met before and that’s saying something considering how many people TK meets on a regular basis.

“I’m fine.” Carlos’s eyebrows furrow together and TK can tell that he’s trying to determine whether or not to push for more information. It’s why TK adds, “I actually have some news for you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” A small spark of the excitement TK felt earlier reignites. “We’re leaving for a weeklong trip tonight, so pack your bags.”

Carlos’s phone is out of his pocket in an instant. “A trip? I don’t remember seeing anything about that on your schedule.”

“It was just decided at today’s meeting.” TK pauses, always ready to add in a dash of suspense whenever he can. He likes to believe that it’s the actor in him that always chooses this dramatic route. “Oh and you should probably let your family know.”

At this added statement, Carlos lowers his phone and focuses back on TK. “Why?”

“Because we’re headed to Texas.” TK’s lips lift up into a grin. This was the part of the meeting that fully woke TK up because he’s heard Carlos talk about where he grew up on multiple occasions. “Austin, Texas to be more specific.”

For a second, Carlos stares at TK in stunned silence. It takes another second for him to find his voice. “Are you serious?”

“Very. And, it’s also possible that I talked Paul into extending the trip an extra two days so you could have a chance to see your family and friends. I know how much you miss them.”

“TK,” Carlos says in an unbearably soft voice. There’s a twinkle in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before and TK’s chest swells with pride because he’s the one that put that twinkle there. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Austin, here we come.”

Wherever TK goes, people recognize him.

It’s just a fact of life – the Sun rises in the East, hot dogs go best with mustard, and TK Strand can’t go anywhere without being noticed.

Someone must have tipped the paparazzi off or someone tweeted about it because, as soon as they exit the building TK has just finished an interview in, Carlos notices a crowd of people running towards them, phones and cameras out and yelling TK’s name.

“Oh no,” TK sighs.

Luckily for them, Carlos knows this neighborhood like the back of his hand.

“Follow me.”

He does not even look to check if TK is following, Carlos knows he is. That’s how they work – they trust each other fully and without hesitation.

Carlos makes them turn onto a street he has walked up and down countless times before, and his gaze finds the bakery facade right away. He runs faster – behind them, the crowd is still going strong but they are a street behind.

They don’t have much time before their hiding place gets made.

“Over here,” he shouts, dragging TK ahead of him and pushing him through the bakery’s door.

Carlos doesn’t hesitate.

As soon as TK is through the door, he whirls around and locks it behind him, flipping the closed sign with a precise movement born out of repetition, and then lowers the blinds.

It’s right on time as he just manages to catch a glimpse of the horde of reporters and fans before the room is plunged into relative darkness.

Instantly, relief floods through him.

He has made it.

TK is safe and they will be able to hide in here until the crowd has dissipated enough that they can get a chauffeur in without risking another scene.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Look, I can explain,” TK is already saying, apology sincere on his tongue. Carlos does not have to turn around to picture the contrite look on his face, but he turns anyway. That’s his role, making sure TK does not have to deal with anything that could prove a threat to him.

But the man is no threat.

“It’s my fault,” Carlos cuts in. TK’s expression is exactly how he’s expected it to be. “I made us barge in here to take cover.”

“Take cover, huh? And who do you think you are to be closing the shop this early?”

TK is worrying his lower lip, Carlos wants to smooth the worried lines between his brows but he holds back. That’s not his role.

The man facing them is tall. Carlos is no short man but even he has to tilt up his neck to look the guy in the eyes.

“I thought I’d take my chance.”

Both men try to hold it together but they break into a huge grin at the same time. TK frowns in confusion and this makes Carlos snort. In turn, Judd Ryder barks out laughing, long gone are the tensed – fake – lines of his shoulders which now sag into an eased position.

“Well, come give me a hug, Reyes, since you’re dropping by unannounced.”

Laughing, Carlos goes to give his old friend a hug and Judd squeezes him tight, even sweeping Carlos off his feet with ease.

It’s only when he’s let down to the ground that he notices three customers seated at the only table in the bakery – I’m here to sell baked goods, not to entertain guests. They are one small family of two men and a bright-eyed kid and they don’t appear to be too bothered by the commotion as they’re all laughing in delight at the scene.

TK, who loves kids and making them laugh, waves at the boy which elicits a pearly laugh from him. One of his dads, the blue-eyed one, laughs and nods at TK.

In that moment, Carlos knows that TK has been made but these people won’t bother them.

Relieved, Carlos manages a small, thankful smile at them. The second father, brown-eyed, nods gracefully.

“Sorry about that, gents,” Judd says, his Southern drawl deepening with his humor. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

And with that, he drags Carlos by the arm. TK, as always, follows right behind.

The kitchen smells exactly as Carlos remembered it. A million moments, a million memories rush to him and he almost staggers under the weight.

Grace laughing as she wipes Judd’s face of flour. Himself dancing as he cleans, music blasting through the speakers, and Mateo attempting to sing the highest notes of ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’. Michelle slipping in the backdoor to tell him she found her sister alive and well.

Countless memories twirl before his eyes, some joyful, some not but all of them bright and loud and alive.

“So what’s the deal?” Judd asks him when the door is closed behind them and that breaks Carlos out of his trance-like state. “And does it have anything to do with Superstar over here?”

“Yes,” he admits with an amused glance at TK who shrugs, sheepish. “We just want to wait until things calm down enough for us to leave. Is that okay with you?”

Judd hums low and long, but Carlos knows him enough to know he is only pretending to think it over.

“On two conditions,” he drawls. “You bake like the good ol’ times. And Superstar puts a post about the bakery on Instagram. Grace is always telling me to add content to the page, that’ll make her happy.”

“Deal,” Carlos replies with a laugh.

And so that’s how he finds himself going through Judd’s drawers feeling once again like he’s  seventeen and wondering if he’s ever going to find his path.

“I had no idea you knew how to bake,” TK says and his eyes never leave Carlos as Carlos moves around the kitchen to get everything he needs ready.

Judd has barely changed anything at all, except there are more pictures of Grace and the two together now.

“I guess I can,” Carlos replies.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Judd shouts from the other room before sticking his head through the doorway, looking at TK. “Boy can bake, he’s great at it actually. It was a damn shame when he left the shop. We could’ve made a chef out of him.”

“Please, I was mostly at the counter. I just helped in the kitchen a bit.”

“Please,” Judd parroted, earning a laugh from TK though if anyone asked Carlos, he would say the imitation was lacking. “Get to work, Chef Costner.”

TK laughs again, his eyes are bright and his cheeks reddened. It’s mesmerizing.

Carlos forces himself to look away or else he thinks he could spend the rest of forever staring into TK’s eyes.

They don’t talk as Carlos continues rummaging through the drawers and cupboards, but when he turns around, his old favorite spatula in his hand, he finds that TK is still staring at him, a strange look on his handsome face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” and TK shrugs as if to rid himself of his odd mood. “I’m good.”

Unconvinced, Carlos decides however to drop the subject. He has found that it is no use pestering TK for answers when he isn’t ready to open up. That’s actually the best way to shut him all up and never get a word about it ever again.

It’s taken some time for Carlos to figure this out.

When he first started as TK’s bodyguard, he thought him to be like any other celebrities he’d worked for. Yet, slowly, Carlos saw behind the mask, behind the happy party facade, and caught a glimpse of the real man that was TK Strand.

Glimpses soon turned into longer and longer looks until all that Carlos could see was TK, without artifice, without lies – the truest of him and all of him beautiful in every definition it could ever have.

Carlos knows it. He is in love with the man. How could he not be? TK is a sun and Carlos has been pulled into his orbit.

He is more than happy to burn.

TK has seen Carlos do a lot of things as his bodyguard over the years. He has easily forced his way through rabid photographers, carefully navigated through crowds of TK’s adoring fans, broken down a locked door to be there when TK needed him most, and so much. Yet all of those moments pale in comparison to this - Carlos baking.

It’s mesmerizing to watch those same hands that hold so much power do something as delicate as crack an egg and expertly wield a whisk.

TK doesn’t mean to stare, he doesn’t , but there isn’t really anywhere else to look. And really, why would he even want to look anywhere else when Carlos is right there?

It’s usually at this point in his train of thought that TK would force himself to think of something else. It’s such a natural process for him, that he switches his thinking without realizing it, letting his mind wander to his meeting earlier. He has just started wondering how he could’ve made a better impression when Marjan’s words from two days ago flash through his mind.

You deserve to be happy.

It’s a sentence he’s heard a million times before but has very rarely ever believed. The inability to do so has led to a struggle that brings down TK’s mood more often than not. But today, TK doesn’t want to let it bring him down. If there’s one thing he’s learned as an actor, it’s to fake it ‘til you make it. And, if there’s one thing TK is good at, it’s faking it.

It’s for that reason that TK grants himself the indulgence of continuing to watch Carlos as he bakes. It’s intoxicating really, being in Carlos’s atmosphere. Especially here in this place where Carlos spent so much time when he was younger. He can tell that Carlos feels completely at ease here. The usual tension in his shoulders has all but dissipated and he hasn’t stopped smiling since he started baking.

TK would happily give away all the money in his bank account if it meant always getting to see that smile.

“There was this one time,” Carlos says, gearing up for what TK is sure will be a very entertaining story when they hear it. A series of sharp knocks at the backdoor nearest TK.

Three things happen simultaneously.

TK jumps, knocking over his seat in the process. Carlos, who was in the process of pulling a tray of finished cupcakes out of the oven, carelessly shoves them right back in. He rushes to stand in front of TK, effectively acting as a physical barrier between TK and whoever is at the door.

There are a few terrifying seconds where the sound of someone continuing to bang on the door melds together with the sound of TK’s rapidly beating heart. Situations like this have arisen in the past, more times than he cares to remember, but the fear it incites in him is always the same. He’s aware that it’s the price he has to pay for his fame, but in times like this, that’s a particularly hard pill for him to swallow.

“I think they’re gone,” Carlos determines after the backroom is once again bathed in silence. His height makes it so that TK can’t even see the door, so TK peeks around him at the offending object. TK’s not sure what he’s expecting to see, but it seems wrong that the nondescript steel door is the reason that he currently has adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Maybe I should go out there and check.”

It’s instinct that has TK reaching out for Carlos’s forearm before he can walk away. “No.”

Carlos flinches like he’s been hurt and it’s not until TK pulls his hand away that he realizes that’s exactly what happened. There, on Carlos’s forearm, is an angry red mark. “Carlos,” TK whispers just as Carlos turns around to face him. TK is unable to look anywhere but at this new, unfamiliar injury.

“Ouch,” Carlos mutters, lifting his forearm so that he can see the mark more clearly. “Didn’t even realize I did that.”

“How did that happen?”

“That knocking and you jumping out of your seat caught me off guard,” Carlos explains, poking at his arm in a way that TK is sure is only aggravating the wound. “I accidentally lowered my arm onto the oven door. Very hot oven door.” Carlos winces when he touches a particularly sensitive part. “It’s just a burn.”

TK is not at all appreciative of Carlos’s nonchalance. There’s no world where TK is okay with being the cause of Carlos’s pain. He hated it the first time it happened two months into Carlos working for TK and he hates it even more now.

“Where’s the first aid kit?”

Carlos looks up at that, wiping away all traces of his discomfort as he offers TK a warm smile. “You don’t have to do that. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” TK takes a step closer to Carlos, to do what, he’s not sure. All he knows is that he has to do something . “Now point me in the direction of where it is before I go out there and ask Judd for it myself.”

The threat works as Carlos points at the corner of the room. TK moves in that direction right away with the knowledge that the sooner the injury is taken care of, the better.

“Sit,” he tells Carlos, resting the first aid kit on the counter and popping it open while Carlos takes a seat. It’s jarring for TK to be taller than Carlos, but TK brushes that off in order to focus on his task - tending to Carlos’s burn.

“You don’t have to do this,” Carlos says, repeating his words from earlier in a much more subdued voice.

“I want to.” Then, because he’s impulsive and still running on an adrenaline high, TK adds, “you always take care of me. Let me take care of you.”

TK only hears Carlos’s sharp intake of breath because of their proximity. He doesn’t comment on it, choosing instead to uncap the silvadene he found in the first aid kit and carefully spread it over Carlos’s burn. He’s almost finished applying the cream when Carlos winces.

“Sorry.” TK stops, giving Carlos an opportunity to pull his arm away. When he doesn’t, TK finishes applying the cream with an even lighter touch than before. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

This time, it’s TK whose breath gets lodged somewhere in his throat. When he chances a glance at Carlos, he finds Carlos’s gaze resting steadily on him. Those brown eyes have seen so much of TK over the years - the good, the bad, and everything in between - and yet they still stare at TK like he’s something precious.

Someone loved .

How has TK never noticed that before?

“Carlos.”

Carlos leans in closer, face only a hair's breadth away from TK’s. His breath fans across TK’s lips and TK would laugh if not for the importance of this moment. Earlier, TK noted that watching Carlos bake was intoxicating. That is nothing in comparison to this.

“Tyler Kennedy.”

It’s the name, his full name, coming from Carlos’s lips for the first time since Carlos began working for TK that pushes TK over the edge. In the past, his tendency to act without thinking has gotten him in hot water, but TK knows without a shadow of a doubt that there are no negative consequences that can come out of kissing Carlos.

Finally.

When their lips meet, it’s everything TK has ever wanted but never knew he needed all rolled up into one. He’s so dizzy with the sheer joy and relief of having Carlos invade every one of his senses that his knees buckle. TK is certain that he would’ve fallen over if not for Carlos wrapping a steady arm around TK’s waist.

Leave it to Carlos to still be taking care of him.

Carlos tilts his head and TK follows suit despite his lungs aching for him to pull back and take a breath. He has waited too long for this to occur to be bothered by his need for something as trivial as air.

He trails his fingers up Carlos’s neck and tugs lightly on the hair there when -

“I thought I told you to come back here and bake, not makeout like a couple of teenagers.” Carlos and TK spring apart in a flash, much to Judd’s amusement. “Didn’t realize that was something I would need to clarify.”

Carlos stares down at his feet, unable to meet his old boss’s gaze. TK has never seen Carlos look this bashful. It’s unfairly adorable.

TK takes pity on Carlos and does what Carlos has done hundreds of times for TK - steps in between him and the thing that’s trying to cause him harm. Or, in this case, embarrassment. “That was my fault.”

“Really? ‘Cuz, last time I checked, it takes two to tango. Or two to play tonsil hockey.”

TK snorts, Carlos gasps in mortification, and Judd laughs.

“As fun as picking on you two is, I came back here for a reason. Follow me.”

Judd turns on his heel, leaving the room and giving TK and Carlos a moment to themselves.

“You okay?”

“Usually I’m the one asking you that,” Carlos comments, some shyness still lingering despite Judd’s exit.

“Well get used to it because I plan to ask you that every day from here on out.”

“Yeah?”

There’s hope shining in Carlos’s eyes and that prompts TK to take his hand while still mindful of his arm and the burn that is now covered in cream. “Yeah.”

“If y’all are still making out back there again-”

“We’re coming,” Carlos yells, the annoyance in his voice not at all matching the genuine smile he directs at TK.

They walk out to the front of the bakery together, temporarily too distracted by each other to take note of anything else. That bubble is quickly broken by the overwhelmingly loud noise that’s barely muffled by the store’s glass door and windows.

“Looks like all of Austin found out that we’ve got ourselves a superstar here.”

Even with all the blinds drawn, TK can tell there are a lot of people standing right outside of the building. This kind of large gathering caused by his presence alone is an inconvenience that TK has yet to adjust to. “I’m so sorry about this,” he apologizes, mentally trying to come up with a solution for their problem. Maybe he can sneak out the back door and draw the crowd away from the bakery?

“What’re you apologizin’ for? All business is good business” All the chattering from outside floats into the store. “I’m thinking we let them in, in a controlled manner of course, but only if it’s something you’re comfortable with doing.”

Judd stares at him expectantly and, at first, TK is at a loss for what the right call is here. It’s not until he feels Carlos squeeze his hand that TK remembers he’s not alone. He never has been, not with Carlos by his side.

“Let’s do it,” TK decides and is surprised to hear a child cheer in response. When he swivels his head to the right, he realizes that the family he and Carlos came across upon first entering the bakery is still here. They have abandoned their table in favor of standing off to the side, out of view of the flashing cameras. “You guys are still here?”

“We didn’t really have any way out,” the brunette responds drily.

“ Eddie ,” the taller man hisses before shooting TK an apologetic smile. “Please ignore my husband, he’s usually better behaved than this.”

“Usually,” the young child echoes. This makes the blond man laugh as he holds out his hand for a high-five. The child readily reciprocates.

“How could you turn on your old man like that, Chris?”

“You and Buck always say that honesty is the best policy.”

The blond, who TK assumes is Buck, barks out a laugh and Eddie struggles not to do the same.

It’s a small exchange but TK can feel the love the small family has for one another.

Maybe one day that can be him and Carlos.

“Anyways, if there’s any way we can be of assistance, let us know.”

Judd shakes his head. “Y’all don’t have to do that.’

“We want to,” Eddie chimes in. “And maybe when all is said and done, our son can get a picture with Mr. Strand.”

“TK,” TK corrects. His father goes by Mr. Strand, not him. “And of course. We can take as many pictures as you guys want and please let me cover your bill from today’s meal. Also, I’d be happy to pay for any extra treats you decide to buy before heading out. I have it on good authority that the red velvet cupcakes here are delicious.”

It’s Carlos who ends up taking the reins and concocts their game plan. He’ll be in the back, baking like his life depends on it while being mindful of not burning himself again. The latter detail is one that TK stressed multiple times. Judd will man the cash register. TK will be set up at a table next to the cash register, greeting people, taking photos and signing autographs. Chris will be sitting nearby TK, there to act as moral support and do things like hand TK a pen and refill his water as needed. And Buck and Eddie will be standing at the front door making sure there are only a certain number of people allowed in the building at a time.

“We’re firefighters so we’ve had to deal with crowd control before,” Buck says after Carlos tells them what they’ll be doing. “We’ve got this.”

Buck and Eddie walk to the front door hand-in-hand, Judd goes to set up TK’s table, and Chris follows. Their dispersal grants Carlos and TK some last-minute privacy.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? I won’t be out here to keep you safe.”

TK tugs on their entwined hands, pulling Carlos closer and wrapping his arms around Carlos’s waist. “I’m sure.”

Leaning in for a kiss shouldn’t already feel as natural as it does.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Judd claps his hands just as he returns to the cash register. “That’s enough. Time to get this show on the road.”

Carlos pulls away reluctantly. “Now that I’ve gotten the chance to kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

“I hope you never do,” TK replies happily as happiness swells in his chest like a balloon.

Waking up in TK’s arms feels like a dream, a dream he’s had many times before but which proves, this time, not to be a dream at all.

Carlos’ hands have a mind of their own it seems as it takes him quite some time to realize he’s tracing mindlessly on TK’s soft skin. He lets his hands do what they will anyway.

“How’s your arm?”  TK asks, sleep still clinging to his voice.

“Good,” Carlos whispers back, the moment feels too intimate and precious to speak too loud. “You saved me.”

It’s said a little jokingly but Carlos means it too. TK saves him every day in so many ways and he might never know how much.

“No, you save me. ”

He almost wants to protest but he doesn’t. TK has uttered the words with such sincerity and simplicity that it takes Carlos’ breath away.

Unable to speak, he can only snuggle closer to TK, and as TK caresses the wound on Carlos’ arm with the utmost gentleness, the only burn Carlos is able to feel is that of his own love for this wonderful, impossible man.

“We should get up,” TK says.

“In a minute.”

“You said your mom doesn’t like when people are late. I’m not about to make a bad first impression on my boyfriend’s mom.”

His hands still but his heart beats with renewed enthusiasm and it’s with something akin to awe that he looks up at TK.

“Boyfriend?”

TK, with his hair tousled and his big bright eyes, looks even more handsome than Carlos has ever seen him, and he has always thought TK to be the most handsome man in the world.

“Yes, boyfriend,” TK replies with the softest of smiles. “That’s good with you?”

Carlos smiles widely.

“More than good.”

They share a breathless laugh together and then, without either initiating or maybe both initiating at the same time, they share a slow, loving kiss.

They kiss and they laugh and they kiss some more. Drunk on happiness and TK’s laughter, Carlos has never felt more at peace than he does in that moment.

The two of them have been through so much together – ups and downs and downs again. They have seen each other at their worst and they stayed anyway, not because it’s easy but because they have made the conscious choice to.

They are still here, and though they don’t know it yet, they will be for the rest of their lives.

Carlos and TK will grow old together, will live full lives together, will spend every day of their lives assured in each other’s love.

But they don’t know that yet.

They don’t know they will marry on a stormy summer day and laugh as they and their guests run to get shelter from the sudden rain.

They don’t know that Carlos will hold TK’s hand as Owen Strand tells his son he’s been diagnosed with lung cancer.

They don’t know that TK will turn down a movie that could transform his career into legendary status to stay at Carlos’ side after Carlos has broken his spine.

They don’t know.

Or maybe they do, deep down.

It must be hope.

Until all that comes to pass, they continue laughing and kissing.

Whatever comes will come and they will have each other.

[chicalmeida]

The Look of Love - Daichi x Reader

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 2k

When Daichi met his new neighbour it just clicked. Not that a seven-year-old would take notice of that, but spending time with you felt right. You were is favourite person to be around.

Apparently, you went to the same school as him and, since your mums were old friends that decided that being neighbours was a great idea, they took turns on picking you up, and the both of you ended up playing in each other’s backyards a lot.

And when Daichi discovered that you liked volleyball too, his fondness of you grew even more. Your usual games were quickly replaced by volleyball “games”. Except it would be just the two of you passing the ball around clumsily since none of you had any kind of practice, just the love for the sport.

“(Y/n) we should join a volleyball club!” Daichi said one day, as the both of you rested at his couch, watching a game on television. A real one, with pro players and everything.

The smile you gave him in return was enough of an answer and you quickly made both your parents aware of your plan. So, the week after, you both joined a club and started to play.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a hot summer day, pretty normal for the middle of June.

As Daichi left the gym, he took notice of you, outside, waiting for him.

“You’re early (Y/n).” He greeted you.

“Yeah, my practice ended up beforehand.” You told him, with a small smile across your lips.

“Let me just get my stuff from the club room and we can head home.” He said, leaving you alone again.

You were already on the third year of middle school and you and Daichi had stick together through the whole time. You were practically inseparable, and people would often think that you were dating due to how familiar you were with each other.

Not that Daichi didn’t want it to be true. He was one hundred percent aware of his feelings for you, even though it took him a while to realize it. But he knew you weren’t into him. On the frequent hang outs with Michimiya and Ikejiri, you would often talk to the other member of the female volleyball team about the guys you liked, or thought were cute. And Daichi would never feature on that list unless you decided to start messing with him. So he just let it go, thinking he eventually would forget you.

He quickly grabbed his stuff from the club room and made its way back to you.

“Hey, you want to grab some ice cream? I could really use one with all this heat.” You asked Daichi when he came back.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” The male answered.

You both made your way to the convenience store that was on the way home, bought your ice creams and decided to sit on a bench of a park that was nearby. The sun had started to set meanwhile but the temperature seemed to stay exactly the same.

“(Y/n) I know that we still have a few months to go, but have you considered what school you’re going to choose in high school?” Daichi asked you somewhere in the middle of your conversation.

For some reason you seemed to flinch at the question. Did Daichi asked something wrong? Maybe you had argued with your parents because of it. Sometimes it happened, you showing up at his door upset because you had a fight with your parents. Most of the times the reason was the same. Volleyball. Even though they let you play, they would often say that you should focus more on your studies and just drop, and you would get upset and ended up discussing with them. Thus, Daichi ended up comforting you when it happened. So maybe they wanted you to go to a specific school and you had other ideas.

“What about you Daichi? Do you know where you want to go?” You asked him back, avoiding his question.

“Not fair, I asked first.” He said while eating a piece of his ice cream. “But if you’re so keen on knowing it, I’m considering attending Karasuno.” You sighed at his response.

“Okay I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it a secret because I haven’t told anyone yet.” You gave in, now extending your pinkie for him to intertwine his in a promise, something you did since you were kids.

“I promise.” He said, your fingers together now.

“The other day I received a call from Shiratorizawa.” You said as a small blush made its way to your face. “They said they were interested in giving me a volleyball scholarship for the feminine team next year, as long as I can keep my grades the way they are right now.” You finished, a hint of pride in your voice.

Daichi stared dumb fold at you. Whatever he was waiting to hear, this definitely wasn’t it. Not that he though you couldn’t do it, he knew you were an excellent player and you probably practiced more than him. But Shiratorizawa seemed like a dream only some could reach.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You asked him after a while of awkward silence.

“Sorry, I just-“ He just couldn’t make his mind on what to feel. On one hand, he was immensely proud of you. You worked so hard and Daichi knew you deserved this more than anyone, probably. On the other hand, it meant that you had to go away, you would stop to see each other on a daily basis and he would only be able to see you on the few weekends you would spend at home. It broke his heart.

“I’m proud of you (Y/n).” He finally managed to say with a smile. “Are you going to take it?” He asked.

“As you can imagine my parents were thrilled with it.” You replied while resting your head at Daichi’s shoulder. “But I have to think about it, I would have to move there and leave you guys behind.”

“If it’s us that you’re worried about, it’s not like we will stop being friends.” Daichi tried to reassure you, even though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. You or himself. “We can still talk on the phone and text and when you come home for the weekend we can hang out.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You sighed.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, when Daichi hit his head against Tanaka’s shoulder at the Wakutani game, your face flashed in his mind. No, it wasn’t because he had seen you in the stands watching his game, because he really didn’t see you, even though you were there. But in that moment, for some reason, he kind of whished you were.

It was only when he laid in the infirmary bed, resting, and you showed up there that he thought he was seeing things and, maybe, he really had a concussion. Because in the last three years you had become almost like a distant dream. You still spend some time together, but after some time at Shiratorizawa, you started to come home less and less and, when you did, you couldn’t always be with each other.

And Daichi recomforted himself with hearing the things that went on with your life through his mother, who, in her turn, heard it from your mother. But even if you were away, even if you grew apart, Daichi’s feelings stayed exactly the same. When he thought that he was ready to let you go, you would find a way to make him stay. You would be home that weekend and when he was with you, he immediately remembered the reasons he had to fall in love with you. Other times, it would be for real now, he would forget you, he told himself, and then, he would see a picture of you on Instagram or something on Twitter, making him realise how much he missed you and everything would stay the same.

So, when he saw you, at the end of the bed he was in, he really though he was having some kind of dream.

“Daichi are you okay? Did they drug you or something because of the pain? You’re doing a weird face.” You finally spoke, making him realise that this was the real thing. You were really in front of him in your Shiratorizawa uniform.

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.” He answered you quickly, feeling embarrassed of his previous behaviour. “What are you doing here, though? Shouldn’t you be playing?” He added. A sad smile appeared on your face and he instantly regretted what he said because it was the dumbest question in the world.

“I stopped playing last year after my knee surgery Daichi.” You replied. You didn’t look mad at the question, just sad. Of course he knew about your knee injury, you had bend it in the wrong way, trying to receive a ball during a game. Daichi had even visited you once. But back then you seemed eager to come back to the court, so when his mother told him that you quitted, he dismissed it as something your parents would make you do and that you would be back in no time. But the news that you started to play again never came.

“Sorry (Y/n).” It was the only thing he managed to say. By now he was sitting in the bed and you had come closer, picking his hand and playing with his fingers. Another thing you did ever since you were kids. “So, are you here to cheer for the male team?” Daichi asked you, trying to change the subject.

The sadness seemed to disappear from your face as you kept on playing with his fingers. Your sad smile was replaced with a loving expression.

“Actually, my boyfriend his a regular at Shiratorizawa. But when I heard you were playing, I had to go and see. But then you hit your head and I got worried.” You explained him.

Daichi almost felt happy that you were worried and came to check up on him, if not for the boyfriend part. You had a boyfriend? Since when? Why hadn’t his mother informed Daichi of this? But most importantly, who the hell was this guy that seemed to sweep you of your feet, judging by the happy look you had just from talking about him. Daichi felt something breaking inside of him. Maybe it was his heart, but he wasn’t sure since he though you already broke it when you left three years ago.

“Boyfriend? Who is he (Y/n)?” The captain managed to keep his cool, smiling even, masking his pain with innocent curiosity. After all he was used to deal with his other teammates, and he would often play the bad guy or something else to keep things in order. But he still removed his fingers from yours, touching you was too much for him, he was afraid he would lose control over a single touch.

“Well…” You started as your cheeks grew redder. “It’s Ushiwaka.” Your voice was almost a whisper but Daichi managed to hear it. The smile that came afterwards to your lips made clear how thrilled you were about it.­

“You seem happy with it.” Daichi didn’t even knew he could keep up with the act, but somehow, he did. He just wanted for this nightmare to end. So, he kept on smiling, hoping that if he could conceal the way he felt, the whole thing would end quickly.

“Yeah, he is a good guy, regardless of the first impression he gives.” You told Daichi, your eyes filled with nostalgia, as if a distant memory flashed in the back of your mind.

“Just so you know, we are going to defeat him tomorrow and go to Nationals.” Daichi provoked with his confident tone, his wicked expression showing. Now, more than ever, he really wanted to destroy Ushijima.

You gave a small chuckle. “Well, I guess I see you tomorrow at the game, then.” You said and made your way to the exit. You turned back and gave Daichi a last smile, which he returned, with a lot of effort.

When you left, he finally let his guard down, a long sigh leaving his lips. At least, the nightmare seemed to be over. He felt this big urge to scream and cry, but he knew better than to make a mess. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested, focusing his feelings on winning the next game and finally defeat Shiratorizawa.

a/n: back at it again. I hope you guys like this one, I will be publishing part II soon so stay tuned ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[lovemesomesurveys]

Don’t you just love the smell of Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch? I actually did used to like it. 

When a bee is coming close to you, do you stand still or run away? I back away somewhat quickly, but try not to make a big show of it because I know it’s advised to be calm, but I see a bee and I freak. 

Are you self conscious about wearing a bathing suit? Absolutely, so I don’t wear one. 

Do you make reminders for important things you need to remember? Yeah, I make great use of the calendar, notes, and reminder apps on my phone.

If you had to play one sport for a living, what would it be? Gah, that would not work for me. I’m not athletic at all and I have zero interest in sports.

Was the last person you texted single? No, he’s with my mom.

Do you get jealous easily? No. I haven’t felt jealous in a long time.  What are you currently waiting for? Nothing at the moment.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future? I dwell in the past too much and I’m always stressing and worrying about present stuff. 

Is there anybody you wish you could be spending time with right now? No.

Who were the last people you saw besides family? Other patients at my doctor’s office, the receptionist, the nurses, and my doctor.

Which of your friends lives closest to you? No friends.

How do you feel about Diet Dr Pepper? I like it.

Do you ever work out? No. I should be lifting a light weight at least everyday. My upper body strength is so bad now.

Do you go to the tanning bed on a regular basis? I’ve never been to a tanning salon and have no interest in doing so.

Does your bedroom need cleaning? I need to organize some stuff and put some things away.

Vanilla or chocolate? Vanilla.

Pretty Woman or Sixteen Candles? Sixteen Candles.

Do you ever hang out with someone of the opposite sex? My dad and brother.

Are you comfortable with your height? I wish I was a little taller. 

Anything on your walls? Yeah, a few giraffe paintings, a a couple beach ones, a couple calendars, a bulletin board, a marker board, and a huge Swedish flag.

What do you bite more, your tongue, lip, or cheek? I’m constantly biting and picking at my lips. :/

What was the last non-alcoholic beverage you had? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

Do you have a box where you keep all your important things? I have boxes and drawers with stuff like that. 

How many times have you dyed your hair? Numerous times since I was 13.

Are any of your friends taller than you? Everyone is taller than me except for small children. 

Ever liked someone whose name started with a B? I don’t think so.

Have you ever been on a motorcycle? I’ve ridden on the back of one with my dad when I was a kid.

Do you have feelings for anyone? Not the romantic kind.

Name something great that happened today: It’s only 530AM, nothing much has happened. 

How did you feel when you woke up today? I haven’t gone to bed yet, but I’m willing to bet I’ll wake up feeling like a zombie like I always do.

Do you use Twitter? I do.

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Wingstop.

What kind of position are you in at the moment? I’m sitting on my bed.

Furthest away from home you have ever been? When I went to Atlanta, Georgia.

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? I’m wearing blue Adidas leggings. 

When was the last time you drank water? Like an hour ago.

Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed? No.

Do you answer the phones at your job? I don’t have a job.

What’s your ring tone? One of the ones that come with the phone.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? I was doing surveys.

Do you want to fix anything with anyone? Not at this time.

Do you have trust issues? No really. I have a hard time with expressing myself and opening up to others, but it’s not so much a matter of trust.

Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Yes.

Are you going to have a good night? My night has been okay.

Have you ever given up on someone and then went back to them? Yes.

Did you wake up in the middle of the night last night? Well no, cause I don’t even go to bed until like 7 or 8AM.

What shows do you watch? I watch a lot of different shows.

What’s wrong with you right now? Just blah as usual.

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? Absolutely. 

What’s your relationship with the person you last texted? He’s my dad.

Are you looking forward to anything? No.

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? My first ex told me I did.

Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes? Yes.

Does anyone disgust you? Myself.

Did you enjoy your weekend? It’s just starting.

Have you argued with anyone today? No.

Your enemy is at your doorstep begging for forgiveness, what would you do? I don’t have any enemies, thankfully.

Has someone had their arms around you in the past 7 days? To give me a hug, yeah.

Dare you to detail why you kissed the last person you kissed? We just wanted to? I never understand this question.

Are you afraid of losing the last person you talked to? One of my biggest fears is my loved ones passing away. Which is obviously inevitable, but still. 

What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? I don’t remember. My mind wanders off and thinks about random things.

When’s the last time you had a headache? A few days ago.

Is anyone else in the room with you? Nope.

Who was the last person you had a conversation with on the phone? My mom.

Does anyone call you babe? No.

Is there anything you are craving right now? Not at this moment.

What was the first thing you thought of this morning? I haven’t gone to bed yet, but I always check the time when I first get up.

Are you satisfied with what you currently have in life? I am appreciative of the good things, but there’s so much I’d like to change and I’m unhappy with. 

What were you doing at 7:00 AM? It’s 5:56AM, so I’m sure I’ll still be awake in like an hour. Sigh.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Like 4ish. 

Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes.

Think back to the last person you kissed, how many times have you laughed with them? Uhh, countless times. How do you even count that? Not to mention, he was always making me laugh.

How do you feel about your hair right now? I hate it. It needs to be dyed so bad, it could use a trim, and a style would be nice. I don’t do anything with it besides throw it up in a messy bun. 

When you were in elementary school, did you change best friends a lot? Yeah. When I was a kid “best friend” was a term thrown around quite loosely.  

Last thing you touched not computer-related? My phone.

Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? No.

Does the song you’re currently listening to remind you of anyone specific? I’m not listening to music.

Who was the last person to give you a ride somewhere? My mom.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? A few weeks ago in the car.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? No.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? A lot.

What’s your favorite thing to think about as you’re falling asleep? I don’t get much say in that.

Is there anything that you want to do, but won’t because you’re too afraid? There’s a lot of things.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? My dad gets up the earliest. He’s off on the weekends and he still gets up at like 5AM for some reason. The latest is definitely me. 

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No, my doggos have always been too big to do that.

You’re going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? I just want to see everything and really experience Sweden.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? A few months during hospital stays.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? No.

What motivates you to go to school? I’m done with school, thankfully. I’ve been so unmotivated and without energy the past few years and I’m glad I finished school before that happened and I sunk into the hole I’ve been stuck in.

Are you more hyper and uptight, or laid back and relaxed? I’m never hyper and I definitely haven’t felt relaxed in a long time. I think to some people I’d appear laid back, but oh boy if they only knew. And honestly what appears be laid is me just feeling... flat. 

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? I don’t know.

How did you pick out your last outfit? I just grabbed whatever.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? For me it’s just about how they look. Comfort isn’t a factor for me as someone who has no feeling in their legs and feet. 

What happened to cause the last mess you made? I let some stuff build up. 

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? I would be right now.

When was the last children’s birthday party you attended? A few years ago for one of my cousins. 

Are you good at reading other people’s body language? I think I am.

If you’re sick, do you go to school or do you stay home (usually)? I’m not in school anymore, but I mean for me it depended on how sick I felt. Of course now in the days of COVID you’re advised to stay home if you feel sick at all. Most schools, at least where I am, are all on Zoom now anyway, though.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? I don’t feel it ever did anything for me.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? If I’m sick I usually don’t have much of an appetite, if one at all depending on how sick I am. I don’t eat much, but I’ll try to eat a little at least of something.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? Sure.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? I did when I was a kid. I didn’t know you shouldn’t do that at the time.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? Yeah, that is weird to think about.

What set the tone for your mood today? It’s 6:22AM and right now I just feel tired.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else’s day? No, that’s definitely not something I’d want to do.

The name of the last board game that you played? I don’t remember.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? That I would try to go to sleep a little earlier. ha.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer’s name? I actually do.

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? Uh, wtf? Firstly, I’d react to the HOT coffee that I had thrown at me. That would be excruciatingly painful. I’ve accidentally spilled really hot coffee on myself before so I would know. So yeah, I’d feel the pain and shock from that and then I’d just be like wtf??? I’d be so confused and upset and most of all, furious. 

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? I graduated college, I’m doneee.

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? A duplex.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Yes, I get comments a lot about how I’m too thin.

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? Well, I’m a virgin, so.

Name a show from the 90’s that you miss? I still watch a lot of them to be honest.

Have you ever thought about joining the military? No. I couldn’t anyway even if I wanted to because of my physical disability.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or “different” people? I was and am a disabled person and I’ve had to deal with people staring all my life because I’m in a wheelchair and hear kids ask their parents, “what’s wrong with her?”

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? No.

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? The heat definitely does. Ugh, I hate the summer. I do not do well with the heat.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? It doesn’t snow here. :(

How good are you at getting along with other people? I don’t have a problem with getting along with others.

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Oh yes.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need “help”? Yes. And I agree. 

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? No one has used a cheesy pickup line on me.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? I’m gonna answer this with takeout because ever since the pandemic hit last year I haven’t gone out to eat anywhere, but I get takeout all the time. Anyway, last night I got Wingstop and my brother realized when he got home they gave him the wrong order, so he had to drive back and it’s like a 15 minute drive there and back on the highway, so it’s not a quick, easy trip. He gets back and I realize they forgot my extra side of the lemon pepper sauce that I like to get, which wasn’t as big of a deal of course, but still annoying. I didn’t say anything about a small thing like that, but I was just annoyed with the whole situation and that I didn’t have that extra side of sauce to dip my wings in. It adds to what makes it good, ya know? I like my ranch and my extra sauce. I would have been even more upset if they forgot the ranch because their ranch is the best.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? I feel a little envious sometimes cause I’d like to experience that. 

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? My mind is a jumbled mess.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? No one in particular. I’m more occupied with thoughts of things I’m dealing with, things I’m feeling, and things that are going on.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? AC, for sure. Especially during the summer when it’s hot and miserable because rolling the windows down doesn’t do shit.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? I added songs to it like a month ago.

Is there a new song or band you’ve discovered? Not recently. I haven’t been listening to music recently.

What teacher gives you the most homework? --

Are you punctual? Yes. I hate being late.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? Uh, no.

Do you give any consideration to what’s said in your horoscope? I don’t even read it. I don’t believe in astrology.

[xaphrin]

From These Prompts

The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, over the sloping hills of the nowhere forest Damian was hiding in, broken only by the shattered lights of the Milky Way above them. The mission had drained every ounce of Damian’s soul from his body. He had nearly lost a teammate, had made poor choices, and now his grandfather knew their next steps. He had been careless and stupid, and now he didn’t know what to do. So, at least for a little while, he ran away. It was easier to keep his thoughts together when he wasn’t trying to be everything all at once. 

He sat outside in the thick, quiet snow, the cold sliding between the cracks in his armor, and stared at the absolute nothing around him. His breath fogged the air, whispering his responsibilities between pauses. He needed to return. He needed to own up to his mistakes and learn from them. But… 

Damian leaned back against the wood wall of the small cabin behind him, letting go of a string of expletives that would have earned a bar of soap in his mouth if he was back at the manor. Although, it was nothing worse than what Todd said on a regular basis. Besides, he was an adult now, he was allowed to swear and drink and fuck as much as he wanted.

Not that there was a list of girls he wanted to fuck. 

Or, if there was a list, it only contained one name.

He sighed, and moved to stand up, but the crunch of snow in front of him made him pause. His hand moved to the sharp knife he kept tucked in his belt, and he felt ghosts move before his eyes. Shadows seemed to stretch into gnarled fingers, curling around him as he took a step back towards the entrance to the cabin. He could call the rest of the team if he needed, but… maybe he needed to face his demons alone. 

“That’s a cheap move, you know. Running away like this.” 

Raven’s voice was a husky whisper, and she stepped into the thin starlight, looking at him. He felt like she was looking right through his soul and he watched as her mouth quirked to the side in annoyance. “I was shot with magic, and you go running away to find yourself in the peaks of literally nowhere.” She crossed her arms over her chest and paused at the treeline, staring at him. “I woke up to Dick hovering over my hospital bed, and not you.” 

“Raven, I never meant to send you-”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this mission, Damian.” Raven let her arms fall to the side and walked closer to him, her steps crunching in the snow. “I knew the dangerous when you gave us that initial overview of the mission. I knew what I was signing up for. I knew what would very likely happen, and I still signed up for it. I knew what I was doing… but I was hoping that you would still be there when I woke up.” Her words were heavy between them, like a sentence to a crime he had committed. “I woke up, and the one person I trusted wasn’t there.”

Damian didn’t know what to say to that. On one hand he was angry he had let himself leave her side, and on the other side of the argument, he knew he couldn’t face her. He had led her into danger, made choices that could have gotten her killed, and then nearly let her die. He didn’t want her to admit that she knew the risks, because then that took the sting out of his own self-pity. It reminded him that all his friends knew what they were signing up for. Including Raven, who had spent nearly two weeks in a hospital bed. 

Her eyes flicked to the door behind him. “Are you going to invite me in? It’s cold out here.”

“Mm.” Damian walked towards the door and motioned for her to follow, not quite inviting her in, but not ignoring her either. “Come in.”

Raven followed silently, setting her snow-soaked cloak on a hook by the door. She looked around the small one-room space and frowned. “This is where you’ve been for the past week?”

“Yes.” Damian ignored the bite in her voice, as if ignoring it would give him some kind of sanctuary from the sins he had committed. He looked into Raven’s face and saw the lack of judgement shaded by her eyes, and somehow that hurt worse. He almost wanted to be blamed, because blame would have given him something more tangible than just… acceptance. “I needed to think.”

“And I needed you.” Her words hurt in a way he wasn’t expecting, and Damian turned around to look at her. 

He wet his lips. “What?”

“I needed you, Damian.” Raven’s voice was a low, rough whisper, and she took a step forward. “I needed the one person I came to trust, and you weren’t there for me. I woke up without you, and that… that hurt. I felt alone, and angry, and… and I didn’t want it.” Her voice wavered, as though the weight of her emotions were burying her. Her dark eyes met his. “I want you to be there, telling me we had won and everything was going to be okay. But… you weren’t there, and I…” Her words trained off and she looked away.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“But you did.” 

Damian hated the snap to her words, they stung in a way he wasn’t expecting. It felt like his whole soul was being pulled from his body, leaving broken bones and promises in its wake. He shouldn’t have left her to wake up alone. He should have stayed by her like a sentinel, and yet he was so ashamed of what he had done, that he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as her. He had run - like a scared child. 

“I’m sorry.” His shoulders dropped and he finally lifted his head to meet her own. “I should have been there for you, but I was… I was…” He didn’t know how to tell her he was afraid. He was afraid of losing her, and he was afraid that if he did lose her, it would have been his fault. Damian shifted and met her eyes, hoping he could see the apology in his own face. “I should never have left you. I never wanted to leave you.”

“So, why did you?” Raven took a step forward, her eyes unreadable in the dark shadows of the small space. 

“I didn’t want to face my mistakes. And I didn’t want you to see how wrong I was.” Damian’s voice was small again, swallowed by the heaviness in the room. “I didn’t want you to see…  to see how weak you made me, Raven.”

“Damian.”

The weight to her voice made him meet her stare for just the briefest of moments before she felt her lips crash into his own. Heat burst between them both, a show of sight and color and something he couldn’t quite place. Her icy fingers tangled in the front of his coat and Raven lifted herself up on her tip-toes, pulling him down against her chilled lips for a few seconds that seemed to stretch out into eternity.

Fuck. 

Damian moaned against her mouth, and he pulled her tight against him, feeling her muscles tense and wince when he touched a particularly tender spot. He pulled away, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to gather his thoughts. What… what was he doing? Raven was the one person he should have kept at arms-length, but instead he was pulling her closer to deepen the kiss, and all he could think about was pinning her to the bed in the corner and helping her find the heavens. 

His cock gave a half-hearted twitch at the thought of her splayed beneath him, pleasure consuming her whole being. He swallowed, lifting his mouth a few scant inches from her own, trying to shake the sense into his head. 

“Sorry. I should have been more careful. Are you al-”

He didn’t have a moment to get another word out before she pulled him down for another kiss. Whatever protest was hanging on his lips seemed to disappear, and his hands tightened on her hips. She stole kiss after kiss after kiss, until they were both gasping - chilled from the wild wind whipping through the trees, and warmed by the heat of the blood in their veins.  

“I don’t want an apology, Damian.” Her voice was rough against his ear, and she started pulling him back to the small bed in the corner, candle light casting shadows on her face. “I never wanted an apology.”

“So…” Damian sink his teeth into her lower lip, tasting the gasp on her tongue. “What do you want?”

“I…” She unbuttoned a fastener on his coat, and then another one. Slowly, she wet her lips and met his stare, pulling the lapels of his jacket apart, revealing the sweater underneath. “I thought that was obvious.” 

Oh.

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

What the Water Gave Me

Happy holidays, @gryvon!  And thank you to @stetersecretsanta​ for putting this all together! 

You can also check it out here on AO3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876028

A run in with a rusalka leaves Detective Stiles Stilinski with a crippling fear of the water. And help comes from an unexpected quarter.

Or, that time Stiles hates Peter Hale, right up until he doesn't.

What the Water Gave Me

“I don’t like him,” Stiles says.

“I don’t even know why you think your opinion matters here, kiddo,” John replies as he tips a jar of salsa into a serving dish because, yeah, that’s about as classy as things get around chez Stilinski. “This is my weekly poker game, and I can invite whoever I damn well please.”

Stiles growls.

He’s not proud of it, but he growls.

“By the sound of that, I’m not the one who’s been spending too much time hanging out with werewolves,” John says. “And you and Derek…?”

“Are me and Derek what?” Stiles asks, and then mentally backpedals. “No, don’t answer that. Me and Derek have never been and are never going to be a thing, okay?”

Stiles and Derek are bros. There was some awkwardness there when Stiles was pubescent and drowning in hormones, but he’s over it now. He’s not sure that Derek ever will be, because at the same time Stiles was at the mercy of his raging hormones he was also at the mercy of his raging nascent spark, and he might have maybe magicked all of Derek’s clothes off him this one time. To be fair to Stiles, it was a total accident, but Derek’s never really forgiven him. To be fair to Derek, it was in Whole Foods.

Not all of Stiles’s memories of his spark in those formative years make him laugh. Magic is... magic can be terrifying. As someone who lives with it in his bones, Stiles would rather not dwell on that. It’s much easier to think of Derek’s pale naked ass and chortle.

But no, Stiles and Derek are bros. Stiles likes Derek. He does not like his asshole of an uncle, Peter, with his expensive suits, his smirk, and his habit of looking at Stiles like he’s some sort of interesting and slightly gross scientific specimen: Gentlemen, the dung beetle.

And it doesn’t help that Peter Hale is Beacon Hills’ foremost attorney. Defense attorney. How John can even bear to have him in the house is a total mystery to Stiles. Peter’s life’s work is literally to screw John. In a professional way, not a fun one, because ew. Point is, Peter is the enemy.

His dad should not be inviting the enemy to poker games.

John lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at the expression on Stiles’s face. “Son, while you’re living under my roof—”

“Stop right there,” Stiles says, dragging a corn chip through the salsa. “I’m twenty-five years old, and the only reason I’m living under your roof is because you broke into my motel room and stole all my things.”

John snorts. “After I fought the cockroaches for them! That place was a fleapit, Stiles!”

“I had an aesthetic going on!”

He did, too. He was a weary jaded detective, all hard-bitten cynicism and jagged edges, living in the gutter and staring bleakly into the void while he listened to slow jazz on his phone. It was very emotive. Very noir. He’d been considering taking up smoking.

“An aesthetic? You had a fungal infection!”

Okay, so that’s technically true. But when Stiles had applied for the newly created detective’s position in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department after a few years in Sacramento, he was adamant that he would be coming back as an independent adult. Apparently though, that was not negotiable once his dad actually saw where he was living. So here he is, back living in his dad’s house like he’s a kid all over again, and although it’s nice not to have to worry about dying of cholera or whatever else was lurking in that motel, it hasn’t been without friction.

Like tonight, for example.

“How about this, then?” John asks, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I don’t pull the ‘while you’re living under my roof ‘card and—”

“Deal!”

John fixes him with a challenging stare. “And you don’t tell me which friends I can invite over for poker night?”

Dammit. Stiles knows when he’s been stymied.

In a final act of petty revenge, he grabs the chips and salsa and flees upstairs.

He eats them in his childhood bedroom with the lights off, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that he put there when he was eight and listening to Dad and his friends—including Peter Hale—laughing and talking downstairs.

It’s no good.

Even Miles Davis and his Blue Moods album are never going to get Stiles’s fledgling noir aesthetic back now, are they?

The Yoda plushie on Stiles’s bookshelf gives him a look of wry agreement.

***

Stiles is the first detective in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department to be Supernatural Certified. That means he knows his weird shit, basically, and has done the courses to prove it. It means that whenever a case can’t be explained away by the usual measures, it lands on his desk. Which means, in a town with a nemeton close by, that Stiles gets a hell of a lot of overtime. It’s routine stuff mostly, and not at all as dangerous as his dad worries. Most supernaturals are just regular people, after all, with a little extra going on, and Stiles can hold his own with a spark as strong as his. The long hours he works are great for the student debt he came out of school with, but not so great for his social life. As in, apart from catching up with Derek a few times a week for coffee, Stiles doesn’t have a social life.

Derek’s eyebrows judge him on a Tuesday morning as Stiles pours what might be an entire cup of sugar into his coffee.

“Look,” Stiles says, “I’m not saying I hate Peter, but why does he have to be such a smug asshole?”

“Weird,” Derek says and sips his tea. “He says the same thing about you.”

Stiles jolts. Peter talks about him? But also, wait. “He says I’m a smug asshole?”

Derek considers for a moment. “No, he says you’re a little asshole.”

“I’m not even smug?” Stiles gasps. “Does he think I’m not smart enough to be smug? I can be smug, Derek!”

“I am aware.”

Stiles glares at his coffee.

Peter Hale is the first werewolf he ever met. Well, not the first, since he’s known all the Hales forever, but he’s the first one he ever saw shift. Before that, werewolves existed for Stiles conceptually, but only like, say, Iceland did. It was a thing, and Stiles knew about it, but he’d never actually figured it was something he’d have to deal with on a daily basis. All that snow and herring, ugh.  

Anyway, when Stiles was twelve and his spark manifested for the first time and some bad shit happened—there may have been explosions involved—suddenly a rampaging, slavering beast was charging right at him, tackling him to the ground while he screamed and the world erupted into flames around him.

And then, just when Stiles thought he was going to die, the rampaging, slavering beast turned into a naked man—which Stiles would like to point out was disturbing on a whole new level—and yelled, “Are you trying to burn down the whole fucking forest?”

And that was how Stiles found out that Peter—and all of the Hales—were werewolves.

He wasn’t brought into the circle of trust so much as he accidentally incinerated his way into it, because while people nowadays know that the supernatural is real, most supernatural beings prefer to keep their status to themselves.

Stiles has a bunch of files on his desk relating to what he suspects is hunter activity that show exactly why that’s still the case.

He tips more sugar into his coffee. “Anyway, how’s the rest of the pack?”

Derek’s resting bitch face softens into a smile. “Good. Cora and her girlfriend are thinking of moving back to the States. And Laura is expecting again.”

“Again?” Stiles blinks. “That woman is a baby machine!”

“And if you call her that,” Derek begins.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says. “My throat, her teeth, I know. What is this now though? Baby three?”

“And four,” Derek says. “Twins.”

“Jesus.” Stiles says. “We definitely need to take Patrick out drinking. Like in commiseration or something.”

“You mean in congratulation.”

“With twins on the way? I know what I mean.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “You know, some functioning adults actually treat children as a good thing.”

Stiles wrinkles his nose. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “Maybe when you’re a functioning adult, you’ll understand.”

“Excuse you!”

Derek quirks a brow. “How’s Yoda?”

Stiles glares at him, and drinks his sugary sludge.

***

Stiles is halfway through lunch, brushing fallen lettuce from his burger off his open case files, when Tara leans into the bullpen. “Stiles? Hale’s here to see you.”

“Good,” Stiles says, leaping up and barging toward the door to the foyer. “He owes me an apology for this mor—”

It’s not Derek.

Of course it’s not. It’s Peter Hale, looking smug and sharp in a suit that probably cost more than what Stiles still owes in student debt. It’s pinstriped for fuck’s sake. Who wears pinstripes in Beacon Hills? Stiles is barely wearing a shirt with buttons. If it wasn’t for stupid regulations he’d be wearing a t-shirt. And his Converse.

“Detective Stilinski,” Peter Hale says smoothly, looking him up and down.

Stiles picks a piece of lettuce off his tie. “Mr. Hale.”

“I’d like to discuss a client with you.”

Stiles sighs, and holds the door open to let him through. He sets his burger down on his desk. “Which client?”

“Clare Stepanova,” Peter says.

Stiles rolls his eyes, grabs the file, and uses it to wave Peter Hale through to the nearest free interview room. He takes his burger too, because fuck it, he’s hungry.

Stiles takes a seat on one side of the table.

Peter takes one on the other side, and checks his reflection in the two-way glass. Does something to his already-immaculate hair, because he’s as vain as he is arrogant.

Stiles rolls his eyes and flips open the file on Clare Stepanova.

Clare Stepanova. Twenty-one years old—though Stiles doubts that—absolutely gorgeous, and a mouth on her like a Prussian sailor. Stiles wasn’t her arresting officer, but he definitely remembers being shocked by her language when Tara hauled her out the back to the cells. And it takes a lot of language to shock Stiles. Still, at least her curses weren’t literal. Stiles knows they could have been.

“Now how did Clare Stepanova afford an attorney like you?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“She has wealthy parents,” Peter says.

Stiles snorts. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Well, she has wealthy people who call themselves her parents, and were able to pay my retainer,” Peter says.

Stiles eats the rest of his burger and folds his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

“I want you, as a Supernatural Certified detective, to go over her file.”

Stiles nods down at it. “Already did.”

“Then you’re aware that this isn’t a regular case.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says. “She’s not a regular collar, but this is sure as shit a regular case. This isn’t a newly-bitten beta wolfing out on a full moon and breaking indecent exposure laws, or some wendigo kid slipping up and eating the neighbor’s cat. Clare Stepanova has no biological imperative to walk out of Sephora with $600 worth of cosmetics shoved down her jeans. Her being a rusalka has no bearing on this case.”

“Ah,” Peter says, his eyes lighting up for a moment.

“You didn’t know?”

“I got the vague impression of water,” Peter says. “Your spark has come a long way, it seems, now that you have it under control. Finally.”

One of Stiles’s most useful and valuable skills is his spark-given ability to know exactly what supernaturals he’s dealing with at a glance.

Kevin from the grocery store: fae.

Mrs. Iravani from the library: peri.

Clare Stepanova: rusalka.

Peter Hale: asshole.

“I would have expected,” Peter continues, “someone with a spark to have a little more empathy to the supernatural.”

Peter Hale: asshole.

Peter Hale: Grade A asshole.

“I have plenty of empathy,” Stiles says. “But until you can prove to me that rusalki need three different types of top-of-the-line lipstick and a bunch of other overpriced glittery shit to live, then I’m afraid I’m going to reserve that empathy for people who actually need it.”

Peter smiles slightly.

“I think we’re done here,” Stiles says. “I have reports to get back to, and you have to go and break it to your client that she’s shit out of luck.” He closes the file and rises from his chair. “Have fun with that, I guess.”

Peter doesn’t even have the decency to look slightly miffed at his wasted trip.

***

Stiles spends the rest of the afternoon writing a recommendation to the DA’s office for dropping charges in a case against a wiccan who was going sky-clad under the full moon last month. Mrs. McIntyre isn’t technically a supernatural—she has as much magic in her as you’d expect from your average elementary school teacher—so she doesn’t necessarily fall under Stiles’s purview, but she’s sixty-eight years old, never had as much as a parking ticket, and Stiles has incredibly fond memories of her back from when she was his third grade teacher.

It’s late when he gets out of work.

John has already left and gone home, but he sends Stiles a text asking him to pick up some milk, so Stiles swings by the gas station on the way home. He parks away from the pumps, wanders in to get the milk and whatever Skittles happen to catch his eye—four different packets do—and then heads outside again.

And steps immediately into a puddle.

Stiles groans and looks down. He doesn’t remember that puddle being there when he walked inside, and it’s not raining so where—

The water glistens in the light like an oil slick, and Stiles can’t tear his gaze away.

For a second he watches the colours, mesmerised, and then the truth of it hits him.

He can’t tear his gaze away.

He doesn’t want to, but also he literally fucking can’t.

His chest squeezes as fear grips him. He hears footsteps behind him, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

Feels soft, cool fingertips brush his cheek, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

He drops the milk and Skittles.

Feels the tickle of her hair against his face as she leans in, and he can’t tear his gaze away.

His phone. He needs…

He can’t make his hands move.

She smells like fresh water, like nature, like a cold, clear stream he wants to drown himself in.

“Hello again, Detective Stilinski,” she says.

Stiles stares at the colors in the puddle, and he can’t tear his gaze away.

And then her hands are covering his eyes, and everything goes black.

***

It’s dark when Stiles blinks away again.

He’s…

He squints into the gloom, but he doesn’t know where he is. He’s cold and wet.

He’s…

He’s been stripped down to his underwear, and he’s lying in about an inch or two of water. There are rough bricks underneath him, and…

Is he in a cellar?

He might be in a cellar. There’s a crack of light some distance away that might be a door? If it is, it’s some distance away and also higher than Stiles is, so he guesses there are stairs. It’s too dark to make them out though. There doesn’t appear to be any other light source.

Stiles shifts slightly, and the water tickles him.

It’s cold. Not shiver-to-death cold, but cold enough that hypothermia might become an issue. Does the light from under the door mean it’s daylight up there? When the temperature drops at night, the cold is definitely going to be a problem. If he lives that long.

If it’s daylight up there, has he already been here an entire night?

Dad must be looking for him then. Dad, and every cop from the station.

Stiles’s hand goes instinctively for his phone in his pocket, and only brushes against naked skin.

Underwear only, right.

He closes his eyes, not that it makes much difference, and reaches for his spark. It’s always there are the core of him, both hidden behind and intrinsically bound to his heartbeat. It’s—Stiles knows it sounds lame as fuck, but he’s always thought of it as his soul. Something uniquely him, but also something that’s not bound to his physical form. His spark encompasses so much more than bone and muscle and meat and, Stiles likes to think, it will last longer than those things too.

He finds it shining warmly behind his breastbone and he focuses on it.

If he can summon it, he can use it to—

And then the cold water is lapping at his skin, higher and higher, and Stiles opens his mouth to suck in a breath but he gets a mouthful of water instead. It rushes down his throat, suddenly a torrent.

Stiles flings himself upright, coughing and hacking, wiping at his mouth with his shaking hands.

The water recedes again, sliding down his skin like an icy caress. It leaves a shiver in its wake that Stiles feels through to his bones.

He doesn’t reach for his spark again.

***

“Hello again, Detective Stilinski,” Clare Stepanova says for the third time, or maybe the fourth, as Stiles chokes and coughs and tries to clear his lungs.

The water rises when she speaks, like tides pulled to the moon. And she’s beautiful, so beautiful, but she won’t let the water take him. He’s cold and he’s weak and he wants to sleep, wants to stop fighting the heaviness in his lungs, but she won’t let him go. She draws the water out of him with a flick of her wrist, her gold hair gleaming like moonlight in the gloom, and then she smiles and commands the water to drown him again.

The weight in his lungs is like lead. His head throbs. His chest aches. His heartbeat turns sluggish.

And then she pulls him back.

“Hello again, Detective Stilinski.”

Five times now, maybe six.

***

He’s lying on the floor, staring into the gloom. The water laps at his ears but he hasn’t got the strength to move. He’s going to die here. Every breath is harder than the last. Every one sounds like the wheeze of squeaky bellows. He’s going to drown in two inches of freezing water. He’s cold, he thinks, but he can no longer feel it. And his spark, that part of him he always thought of as indestructible, flickers on and off like a faulty lightbulb.

The water creeps up him again, icy fingers climbing his clammy skin, and a hot tear leaks out of the corner of Stiles’s eye and slides down his temple.

He’s going to die here.

And when the door crashes open and Stiles is blinded by the sudden blazing light, he thinks, for a moment, that’s what’s happened. And then there’s a dark shape moving down the stairs, and footsteps splashing toward him, and the roar of a werewolf fills the cellar room, and Stiles passes out.

***

“No,” John says firmly as Stiles blinks awake. He covers Stiles hand in his, and draws it away from the scratchy thing in his nose. “That’s your oxygen, kiddo. You need to leave that alone.”

Stiles squints at him.

His dad looks tired; about as tired and wrung out as Stiles feels right now. He’s sitting in a chair beside Stiles’s hospital bed, and he’s wearing a uniform that looks at least three days old, judging by the creases and what look like coffee stains down the shirt. His stubble’s about three days old too, and grayer than it should be.

Stiles pulls in a wheezing breath.

“You had pulmonary edema,” Dad says. “They’ve drained the water from your lungs, but you also have pneumonia, so that’s what’s causing you some issues now. You’re gonna be in here for a few more days before they’ll let me take you home.”

It’s a lot to take in, especially since Stiles can’t even remember for sure how he got here. His brow creases. “Clare?”

The name comes out like a croak.

John’s expression hardens into one of grim satisfaction. “Dead.”

Stiles tries to summon up a bit of feeling for that, but he’s mostly numb. Also, he’s mostly astonished that she was prepared to kill a cop over a shoplifting charge, but that’s the way of it with some supernaturals, isn’t it? Especially the old ones. Centuries of feeling superior to mundane and mortal humans tends to result in more than a few egotists who don’t see why they should be bound by human laws. Like vampires, for example. Total assholes who think they’re better than everyone else just because they saw Beethoven live in concert or whatever. Vampires are the fucking worst. Well, at least they were the worst, but for the record Stiles is going to shift rusalki up to the top of the list now.

He thinks back to the cellar. “Werewolf?”

John squeezes his hand and nods. “Peter.”

Stiles feels a jolt of surprise at that. For some reason he’d thought Derek, mostly because Derek is his best friend and has always had his back. Or maybe angry Talia, because she loves him like a mother. But Peter? Clare’s defense attorney Peter? Clare’s defense attorney Peter who thinks Stiles is a little asshole? Yeah, that’s definitely out of left field.

“The pack was tracking you the whole time,” John says. “Turns out that rusalki can hide scents. Who knew, huh?”

Well, Stiles knew. He’s done the course. But now isn’t really the time to bring it up.

“Anyway,” John continues, “Peter figured it might have been Clare, so he set up a meeting to talk about her case, and followed her after that. He was supposed to wait for backup, but, well…” He grimaces. “Apparently you didn’t have that much time left.”

Stiles sucks in another wheezing breath. “Wait… won’t he get in trouble? With the Bar Association or something?”

“Oh, son,” John says, and his mouth quirks. “If you think Peter Hale gives a flying fuck about the Bar Association, you really don’t know him at all. Besides, attorney client privilege doesn’t cover crimes in progress.”

He nods, and a rush of dizziness leaves him with black spots in his vision.

“Careful,” John says, with mild rebuke in his tone like Stiles has just tried to run a marathon, not nod. “You need to take it easy, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” Stiles rasps, and feels a sudden prick of tears in his eyes. He doesn’t even know why. He’s just… it’s all been too much, he guesses. Clare Stepanova tried to kill him, and he didn’t even fight back. He’s never had that happen before. And he knows it was because he was in her thrall, and he knows it wasn’t his fault, but he still hates that he made it so easy for her. Stiles has always been a fighter, oftentimes against all advice to the contrary, and it’s terrifying how Clare just shut down that part of him. Like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.

Stiles was supposed to be stronger than that, smarter than that. He feels as helpless now as he did when the water was rushing into his lungs.

John squeezes his hand again, and Stiles summons up a weak smile for him.

And then Derek turns up with a massive blue teddy bear wearing an It’s a boy! ribbon from the hospital gift shop.

“You can put it with your Yoda,” he says, glowering at Stiles like Stiles’s near-death experience has personally offended him.

“I love it,” Stiles says, his voice still rasping, and opens his arms for a hug.

Both his dad and Derek get in there, and Stiles closes his eyes and feels warm again for the first time in days. And he wonders where Peter is right now.  

***

It’s four days before Stiles is allowed to go home. He curls up in a blanket on his dad’s couch, and doesn’t move for hours. He stares unblinkingly at the television until John makes him move into the kitchen for dinner. Then, after they’ve eaten, John herds Stiles upstairs and toward the bathroom.

“You stink, kiddo,” John says.

“Way to pull your punches, Dad.”

“Get cleaned up and get in bed,” John tells him. “I’ll bring you your meds.”

Stiles shuts the bathroom door and strips off. Steps into the shower and…

He can’t turn the tap. The thought of water on skin is…

He can’t.

And he knows he should. He knows his dad is right. He stinks. And he knows the steam from a hot shower will be good for his pneumonia. But he just can’t bring himself to do it.

He steps back out of the shower and crouches down in front of the bathroom sink instead. Ferrets around in the cabinet until he finds a bunch of wipes, and cleans himself with those instead.

He’ll shower tomorrow.

***

Three days later, and Stiles is out of wipes. His skin is greasy, and his hair is an oily mess. He’s also got a gross scraggly excuse for a beard, but he can’t bring himself to shave. Not even when the blast of water in the kitchen sink, or the trickle of it through the coffee machine is enough to make him freeze up. He’s pretty sure they can smell him all the way downtown, because there’s only so much that deodorant can do. Spoiler alert: not much.

“Poker night tonight,” John says. “Want to join us?”

Stiles pokes his spoon at his cereal. “I’m good.”

John’s face is creased with worry. “Stiles,” he says, “what’s going on, kid? You’re…”

Decaying, Stiles thinks. Moldering. Something.

“Not yourself,” John finishes. “Do you need to talk to someone? A professional?”

“I’m tired,” Stiles says. “Once I get over the pneumonia, I’ll bounce back.”

John holds his gaze for a long moment, and then nods.

Stiles knows better than to think his dad is letting this go though. The Stilinskis are a stubborn bunch.

He waves his dad off to work, and dozes on the couch for most of the day. He’s jolted awake sometime in the afternoon when the door opens and footsteps tread down the hallway.

“Good lord,” Peter Hale says, looking at where Stiles is nesting like a rat on the couch, surrounded by blankets and junk food wrappers. “You smell like you’ve been dead for a month.”

Stiles grunts and shows him his middle finger. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“Please,” Peter says. “Your father and Derek would have been on my case for eternity if I hadn’t ripped that bitch’s throat out.” He grins and shows his teeth.

“Well, thanks anyway.” Stiles feels a sudden thrill at the thought of Peter wolfing out over him, and pretends he doesn’t. “How did you get in here anyway? Do you have a key?”

Peter raises his eyebrows. “As though I’d need a key.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Peter is such an asshole.

Peter strides over to him, and wrenches his blankets off. “Come on. You’re a mess, and your father’s worried about you. So is the pack.”

Stiles allows himself to be bullied all the way upstairs and into the bathroom. He baulks when he sees the shower.

“Peter, I…” He can’t finish the sentence. He can’t admit his fear, even when he knows it’s etched into his skin, and written into every expression. Even when he knows he literally reeks of it.

“Shirt off,” Peter says. “And then sit on the edge of the bath for me.”

Peter’s no-nonsense tone is easy to obey, and it gives Stiles something to rail against. He’s grateful for both those things as he pulls his shirt off and grumbles about overbearing asshole werewolves getting all up in his business, and this is bullshit, Peter, bullshit.

The blast of water in the sink makes his blood run cold and freezes the words in his throat.

Peter squeezes out the washcloth under the tap, and then grabs the bar of soap from the shower stall. When he turns back to face Stiles, his expression is grim.

“I thought you were a corpse,” he says. “When I found you in that cellar. I could barely hear your heartbeat.”

Stiles hunches over and looks away.

Peter crouches down in front of him. He takes Stiles wrist in his hand, and draws his arm out straight. Stiles shivers when Peter drags the warm washcloth from his shoulder to his wrist. “You scared me, Stiles.”

There’s no hint of rebuke in his tone. There’s only something softer than that; an admission, not an accusation.

“Scared me too,” Stiles murmurs.

Peter scrubs the soap along the washcloth, and then drags the cloth down Stiles’s arm again, leaving foamy bubbles in its wake. “So scared you can’t even face the thought of a shower?” He pinches the skin on the back of Stiles’s hand, and the mark doesn’t vanish. “So scared you’re letting yourself go dehydrated?”

Stiles nods, his eyes stinging with shame and helplessness.  

“She’s dead,” Peter says, his blue eyes shining. “She’s dead, and she can’t hurt you now.”

“I know,” Stiles rasps. “I know that, but…”

“But you don’t feel it,” Peter says, and hums slightly. “You know what you need, Stiles?”

“A therapist?”

“Well, possibly.” Peter smiles slightly. “But in the meantime would you settle for an amoral and slightly sociopathic werewolf by your side who’d tear out the hearts of your enemies if they even looked at you sideways?”

Stiles should be embarrassed at how long it takes him to get that. “But you hate me.”

“Nonsense,” Peter says, and swipes the washcloth over Stiles’s collarbone. “You are the thorn in my side and the pebble in my shoe, Stiles, but I’ve never hated you.”

“Really?”

“Do you think I break into the houses of people I hate and give them sponge baths?”

Stiles blinks. “No. That would be weird. I mean, this is weird enough, but that would be super weird.”

Peter’s laugh is low and full of warmth. He rises to rinse the washcloth out, and then he’s back, lifting Stiles’s other arm up and washing it gently. Stiles feels almost dizzy at the touch. He feels weak and helpless, but a part of him melts into this too. The part of him that wants to be cared for, wants to be allowed to need this without judgement.

Stiles is pretty sure he’ll judge himself harshly enough for this at a later date, but that’s a problem for future Stiles.

He closes his eyes and lets it happen. Drifts for a while on the feeling of being looked after.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Peter says softly. “Take the rest off.”

It should be humiliating, probably, but Stiles is floating from Peter’s touches, so he lifts his hips and lets Peter pull his sweatpants down and off. The hospital sponge baths were perfunctory and clinical; this is not. This feels almost like an act of quiet worship, and Stiles might be drunk on it.

“Good boy,” Peter murmurs, and Stiles melts a little more.

He’s zoned out enough that he can almost pretend the careful swipe of the warm washcloth over his dick and balls doesn’t happen. Almost. But by the time he jolts and his eyes flash open, Peter has already moved on to his thighs. He finishes up at Stiles’s feet, and Stiles toes curl at the slight tickle.

Peter smiles up at him, and then stands. “Now how about your hair, sweetheart? You look like a weasel dipped in oil.”

Stiles snorts. There’s the asshole he knows and… knows. There’s the asshole he knows, period, full stop, and nothing further to add.

Peter’s expression turns serious. “It needs a wash, Stiles. Do you think you could handle some water through it, if I’m here?”

Stiles’s heartbeat quickens, and he’s afraid that it he so much as blinks he’ll be back in that cellar, water rushing into his throat and drowning his screams.

“I have an idea,” Peter says, and then disappears from the bathroom. He’s back a moment later, wheeling Stiles’s computer chair with him. “Let’s do this salon style.”

He flings a clean pair of sweatpants at Stiles, and Stiles climbs into them. Then he sits on the chair, and Peter wheels it back toward the sink. It’s not quite the right height, but Peter pillows a rolled-up towel under the back of his neck, and folds a dry washcloth over his forehead.

“I’ll do my best to keep the water off your face, hmm?”

Stiles nods. He wants to close his eyes, but he doesn’t dare.

It’s… it’s not as bad as he was afraid it would be. The tickle of water on his scalp makes his skin crawl, and makes him want to leap out of the chair, but Peter works quickly and calmly, and his fingers massage Stiles’s scalp deftly.

“What do you know about this Braeden person?” he asks.

“Which Braeden person?”

“The incredibly attractive and intimidating woman that Derek has fallen head over heels for,” Peter says. “I like her, but on the other hand I feel like I shouldn’t approve.”

“Because she’s very possibly a mercenary?” Stiles asks curiously.

“No, I think that’s hilarious,” Peter says. “You should see Talia’s face! I just feel like I shouldn’t approve because, well, I like to make Derek squirm.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Stiles says.

Peter catches a trickle of water before it escapes the washcloth on Stiles’s forehead. “He’s my nephew. It’s my job.”

“It’s really not.”

Peter shrugs. “Well, we’ll agree to disagree. Now, want me to attack that abomination you call a beard? No water, sweetheart. Just shaving cream and a washcloth.”

Stiles nods warily. “Just… just keep talking, okay?”

Peter smirks. “I’m a lawyer, Stiles. That was never going to be an issue.”

***

When it’s done, all of Stiles’s doubts and insecurities come rushing back in. He’s clean and he’s shaved, but at what cost? Peter Hale saw him naked, and not just naked, but a whole other level of nakedness than Stiles is comfortable with. Peter didn’t just see his skin; he saw his vulnerability. Somehow Stiles knows that’s the thing that’s going to be hardest to reconcile.

He sits on his bed and stares out the window, and wonders if tomorrow he’ll be able to actually brave a shower, or if he’s going to be scared of water for the rest of his life. Which would be fine, if it was swimming in the stuff. But showering? Doing the laundry? Hydrating? These aren’t optional activities.

Stiles sighs, and grabs his laptop off his desk, and queues up an episode of Star Trek. Why aren’t sonic showers a thing yet? They need to be a thing.

The knock on his door doesn’t really surprise him.

“Come in, Peter.”

Peter opens the door. He’s holding a glass of orange juice.

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs playing poker with my dad and all his friends?”

Peter ignores the question and sits next to Stiles. He sets the orange juice down on his bedside table. “I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, Stiles.”

“What, when you broke into my house without a key?” Stiles grouses.

“No,” Peter says. “When you were a twelve-year-old with a newly manifested spark, and I scared the hell out of you.”

Stiles feels the faint echo of that fear as he thinks back to that day. And what a hell of a day it was. “To be fair, I was exploding the forest at the time.”

Peter nods. “True. But still, I feel that being lunged at by a werewolf was probably quite traumatizing.”

“It was actually more traumatizing when I saw your dick,” Stiles says. “Werewolves, that was totally out of left field. But naked men jumping on me? Dad had warned me about how dangerous those were.”

Peter’s eyebrows do something complicated. It’s a Hale trait. “You thought I was a child molester?”

“Not for long! But, in my defense, you were a naked man who jumped on me. I was twelve, Peter. There wasn’t a lot of nuanced thought involved!”

“Well,” Peter says at last, “When it comes to nakedness, I suppose that we’re even now after today, sweetheart, aren’t we?”

There’s a strange weight in the air as Stiles avoids Peter’s gaze, and he thinks it’s all in the way he just said the word ‘sweetheart’. Usually Peter uses the word like it’s a sharp weapon, but now—and ever since he walked into the house this afternoon, if Stiles is honest—there’s no barb in the word at all. It sounds almost…

Almost real.

“Peter,” he asks cautiously, lifting his gaze again, “do you like me?”

“Yes,” Peter says.

“I mean, not because I’m pack adjacent, and Derek’s best friend, and Talia refers to me as the son she always wanted, but like-like, like—”

“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” Peter says, and rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

This is the part where they should fall into a kiss, right? Stiles reaches for Peter, only to find a splayed hand on his chest.

“Nu-uh-uh,” Peter says. “Not until you drink your juice, sweetheart.”

Well, Stiles guesses, there’s some incentive.

He drinks his juice.

***

Stiles narrows his eyes at the bottle of water on his desk. He’s been back at work for three days now, and he’s mostly a lot better, but still not a total fan of this whole hydration business. It’s a shitty thing to develop a trigger over, but he’s working on it. He’s downloaded an app on his phone that reminds him when to drink, so he’s no longer got an excuse to avoid it. Also, his therapist prescribed him a shitload of Ativan, so that’s pretty sweet.

“Stiles?” Tara calls from the door. “Hale’s here to see you.”

Stiles leaps up from his desk, anticipation bubbling through him. Peter promised to bring him lunch, and he’s been counting down the minutes. Not because he gives a fuck about the new fusion place on Third that Peter’s been raving about, but because, well, Peter. Peter has been visiting Stiles every day, both at work and at home, checking that he’s functioning. They’ve got into a weird pattern now where when Stiles showers, Peter sits in the bathroom and talks to him. It should feel humiliating, but it doesn’t. And Peter isn’t even a jerk about it. He’s still a jerk about everything else, but, well, that’s Peter. It turns out that there’s just a lot more to him than that asshole exterior. As embarrassing as it is to admit it, Stiles might actually be in love.

Ugh. He has taste in his ass.

But so does Peter, probably, so it all works out.

And frankly, Stiles can’t wait for the day when showering with Peter means something a whole lot more sexy than their current arrangement.

He wrenches the door open. “Hey, Peter, I—motherfucker.”

Derek blinks at him.

“It’s always the wrong Hale,” Stiles says. “Every damn time.” He plasters on a smile. “Hey, Der-bear. It is great to see you!”

“Clearly,” Derek deadpans. “Anyway, Mom wanted me to remind you that it’s pack dinner this Friday, and she expects to see you there. And she said she’s making extra cookies so you can take a bunch home, and not try to smuggle them out in your pockets like last time.”

“She can’t prove that ever happened.”

“Stiles, your jeans smelled like chocolate for days. You should do your laundry more often.”

“You’re not actually supposed to wash your jeans after every wear.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “You are if they have chocolate in the pockets.”

“Point,” Stiles admits.

“See you Friday,” Derek says, and claps him on the shoulder before leaving.

Stiles heads back inside to the bullpen—and discovers Peter sitting at his desk, his fancy Italian ankle boots resting on Stiles’s open files. He’s eating something from a takeout container. It smells fucking orgasmic.

“How the hell did you get in here?” he demands. “Did you break into a police station?”

Peter smirks. “I brought you lunch, sweetheart. Let’s not quibble over the details of why, and how, and whether or not it’s really an indictable offence.”

“Someone let you in the back door, didn’t they?”

“Your father,” Peter admits. “I met him in the parking lot.”

Stiles leans his ass on his desk. “You’re such a dick,” he said fondly.

Peter shrugs, and nudges Stiles’s water bottle closer to him. “Takes one to know one.”

“Touché.” Stiles takes a sip of his water, trying not to grimace, and Peter rubs his knee gently in silent encouragement. Then Stiles steals his takeout and starts shoveling it into his mouth. “When I finish this, want to go make out in the file room?”

“Sweetheart,” Peter says with a broad grin, “I can’t think of a better way to spend my day.”

And how weird is Stiles’s life now? Because it turns out that neither can he. He wouldn’t say he’s grateful to Clare Stepanova—fuck that evil bitch—but Stiles knows that if he hadn’t been attacked, he and Peter would still be bitching about each other to their families, and snarking at each other when they met, and both of them dancing around the fact that maybe, just maybe, there was a spark of something between them that wasn’t sheer contempt. And, since they’re both such assholes, they would have died of old age before admitting it.

So there’s an upside, Stiles guesses. A crazy weird upside to being drowned repeatedly by a rusalka, and it turns out it’s the bastard of a werewolf pointedly nudging Stiles’s water bottle toward him again.

When Stiles had come back to Beacon Hills, he’d tried to like the idea of being alone. Romanticized it even, in that gross fleapit of a motel where he pretended to be a hard-bitten cynical film noir detective. But it turns out Stiles isn’t that kind of guy at all.

The corners of his mouth turn up as Peter nudges the water bottle against his thigh. Stiles picks it up and sips from it, and Peter makes a smug, satisfied noise.

It turns out it’s nice to be cared for after all.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

[mx-jinxous]

Day 4: Coffee shop

Barry didn’t know what he had expected to change after the crisis, in this strange world he didn’t understand. After they defeated the Anti-Moniter, Barry had been informed by Joe that he didn’t work for CCPD anymore. He’d lost his job over not “filing” his impromptu sabbatical correctly after Savitar, from the chief not Singh, so at least he hadn’t burned a bridge with the new chief. Instead now he worked at Jitters, after Iris pulled a few strings for him with her old boss....and Barry sucked at his job. Even with super speed he sucked at making coffee and still couldn’t master what he’d been able to do before. He was so happy he was stuck on the register today, he needed a break and he was sure everyone else needed one after a week of Barry’s messes, not to mention Barry’s nightlife was strange too, still learning the layout of the new Central and the new villians. 

His life wasn’t getting any easier, his body was also feeling different, like his connection to the speed force was different, but he figured that’s because an infinite number of worlds were erased from creation and now every speedster on the other earths ceased to exist. Barry sighed, his thoughts going to Jay and Joan, his parents dopplegangers. He had just met Joan, and it was like looking at his mom and dad again, he’s sure Joan would have been like a surrogate mother like Jay had become to him. He’d just gotten them in his life, but now they were gone again, just like everyone from the other earths that weren’t on earth 32. He lost Harry, Sherloque, Jessie, Ray, Leo, all the other Wells. He knew he’d never get them back, even if by some miracle some were carried over to the new earth they wouldn’t know Barry. He wished Oliver was still alive, wished he could talk to him and get some kind of pointers, feeling like that excited and scared young man that had first met Oliver Queen. 

Sitting in the back breakroom, Barry sniffed, hiding his eyes as tears started to escape. He wondered if Kara, Kate, or the Legends, even Jefferson were feeling as lost and helpless as he was. It was something he couldn’t explain to the other, sure they had their memories back thanks to J’onn, but other than the other Paragons they couldn’t really feel as displaced as Barry. Deep in their subconscious they had memories that came with the new world, Barry didn’t have that luxury, he didn’t know all that changed, all he knows is that some friends were back. Iris wasn’t married to Barry, she was married to Eddie, Ronnie also back, even professor Stein was alive. Since the multiverse didn’t exist that meant that Stein hadn’t been killed by Nazi’s, instead he retired happily, Barry meaning to visit him. It was awkward with everyone on team Flash on a regular basis, Iris and Barry having to work through the awkwardness of knowing they’d been married, had slept together many times, were supposed to have Nora, but that all was gone, just a distant dream.

Barry still hasn’t figured out where he lived, his apartment he lived at before moving in with Iris being one of those things that changed with the new layout. For a while he stayed at Star, having one constant thing still in his life to keep him sane before he took refuge at Joe’s house, luckily his old room the same as it always had been. “Hey Barry, you feeling okay?” Barry jumped, looking back to see his Boss Taylor looking at him worried, having given him many of those looks after his sudden change in work performance. She thought it was all because of an injury from a meta attack that Barry had apparently made up before in prime timeline. 

“Hey, yah. Just a long week.” Barry said, not looking as he wiped his eyes away as fast as he could at a normal pace.

“If you need a couple days off I understand. They won’t count against you.”

“I couldn’t leave you guys hanging.” Barry stood, catching a glimpse of his puffy red eyes. “It’s fine.” Barry said, the “It has to be” staying silent.

“If you’re sure, just promise me if you need to leave you’ll let me know.”

“I will.” Barry said, Taylor nodding as she turned and walked out of the breakroom. Barry mourned the memories of their work relationship, of all his co-workers because he doesn’t know these people, other Barry does. Taking a deep breath Barry walked out, getting behind the register and starting to take orders to help get the line down. 

Once Barry had gotten the line down he was out on the floor, cleaning the tables, wishing he could just speed through all this. As he cleaned one table he felt eyes on him, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, the speedster feeling a hand touch his elbow. Turning Barry backed away from the person, or people he should say, the young speedster’s eyes widening when he saw Leonard Snart and Hartley Rathaway both looking at him with worried eyes. “You a little jumpy, Scarlet?” 

“Snart? I-I thought you were...with the Legends.” Barry said, deciding not to mention pre-crisis Snart’s fate. He looked like he had the last time Barry had seen him, helping him with King Shark, but he seemed to have lighter features. Hartley, Hartley looked different, his hair was a bit longer, a wavy side bang slightly obstructing his eye. He no longer had his big framed glasses on, his eyes clear of any cover, and Barry’s sure he’s never really looked into the metas eyes. His eyes were a sky blue, deep enough to fall in if you dared to stare long enough, Barry tearing his gaze away to avoid it.

“Snart...huh?” Len looked a little taken back, but collected himself immediately. “I haven’t been with the Legends in years, I promised I’d stay away from the band of merry men...we haven’t seen you for a bit.”

“Called and you didn’t answer.” Hartley said, folding his arms in the way Barry knew he did to protect himself, or least how he had on Earth 1. Maybe they were both possibly on Team Flash now, just waiting to be called back to the field. 

“Look, can we just fight this out on the field in our nightlife gear. I’m trying to work right now.” Barry grumbled, folding his arms, needing one less headache.

“Fight? Is that what we’re doing?” Hartley said, now both of them on defense.

“Care to elaborate about what our fight is on this time Scarlet?” Len asked, Barry sighing and shaking his head. This new life was exhausting, his body feeling aged as he could only guess what they meant.

“I don’t know, whatever you're here to talk about. I don’t feel like dealing with the Rogues Gallery at work while I’m trying to make a latte.”

“Rogues? You know damn well the Rogues are dormant. Someone going on their own accord I can talk to, but don’t take it out on us.” Len said, Hartley pressing his lips together as he tried to hold back his tongue.

“We’re just trying to figure out why you haven’t been home or taking a call from us in over a week. Figured you were busy, but I can see you’re just ignoring us.” Hartley mumbled, looking at the ground, Len wrapping an arm around his waist, Barry getting even more confused. “Look, if we can talk it out we’d like to know what’s going on in your head. Don’t shut us out again.”

“If we’ve done something Barry let us know and we’ll talk about it...I don’t want to break up.” Barry froze, staring at the two as the wheels in his head began to turn. Break up means they’re together, like romantically together. Barry’s stomach felt like it was going to drop, the realization crashing down on top of him like a brick wall. The reason why he couldn’t find a place with his name on it was probably because it was under one of their names, and they were dating. Air seemed thin as he turned, trying his best to run out of Jitters at human pace, catching Taylor’s eyes as he rushed out. The woman gave a small nod of understanding as Barry ran out and into the alleyway, flashing away as he heard Hartley and Len yelling after him. 

Barry didn’t know where he flashed to, only that he was standing in front of a plain white door, hyperventilating as he banged on the door. It was thrown open to show Caitlin and an angry Ronnie, which melted when he saw Barry was a mess. Pulling him inside Caitlin sat him on the couch, trying to talk him down from his breakdown, Ronnie walking out of the room and returning with water as Caitlin managed to calm him down. After a few minutes of silence and tears, Barry drank the glass of water before he spoke.

“Sorry for barging in, I didn’t even know who’s door I was at.” He asked, curled up on the couch with the two lovers sitting beside him.

“It’s fine Bare, but what happened?” Ronnie asked, gripping Caitlin’s hand.

“More post crisis stuff, it’s just been a lot.”

“Want to talk about it?” Caitlin asked, glancing at Barry worriedly, the speedster shaking his head. 

“I just don’t know who I am anymore. This earth-prime Barry is not me, I’m earth 1 no matter how hard I try to change with this new world.”

“We get it, you’re lost and need guidance.” Ronnie said, looking at the younger man that had become like a brother to him. “Probably on some stuff we can’t help you with, but Kara’s just a jog away. I’m sure she’s feeling the same.”

“I don’t know. I think I should just go have a nap at the lab, then work on Gideon a bit to clear my mind.” Barry said, his mind flickering back to Len and Hartley, his insides twisting.

“Just take it easy, don’t over work yourself. Remember we’re here if you need somewhere to stay for a bit.” Ronnie said with a smirk, Barry nodding before speeding off, Caitlin’s hair whipping Ronnie in the face.

Barry collapsed onto the couch in the lounge of Star Labs, nodding off with his face pressed against the cushion, the exhaustion over taking him. When he woke up it was dark outside, now on his back, his body covered in a blanket from the infirmary, voices talking in the background, possibly some bickering. Barry let out a groan, shifting on to his side as he tried to nod back off, someone shushing. A hand pushed his bang out of his, another giving a light grip to his calf, Barry cracking his eyes open to catch a glimpse of Cisco leaning against the coffee bar, the hand still patting his head. 

“Make yourself useful Ramon and find some of those bars you made for him. He’s probably starving.” A sharp voice said, Barry looking up to see Hartley brushing his hand through his hair, smiling down at him. Looking down at his legs he saw Len sitting with Barry’s legs across his lap, the older man now rubbing up and down his leg, he almost nodded back off.

“Hey sleeping beauty, are you hungry.” Hartley said lightly, Barry taking a second to let his mind catch up to him. When earlier events came back Barry shot up, speeding over to Cisco, who seemed as spooked as the other two men.

“So, still mad?” Len said, leaning back against the couch, Hartley scooting over to him and leaning against him. Turning Barry looked at Cisco, the other man looking just as weirded out by the two Rogues cuddling on the couch.

“It’s weird right? I haven’t told them anything.” Cisco whispered, Hartley perking up.

“You know I have sonic hearing right?” Cisco rolled his eyes, not taking his eyes off of Barry.

“Are you going to talk to us about anything?” The young meta asked, looking at Barry, the speedster patting Cisco’s shoulder to dismiss him. It was silent for a moment and it was times like this he wished he could get drunk, wondering if Caitlin has a bottle of the special booze in her office. After a moment of silence the older of the three spoke up.

“Look, if you really want to call it quits on us we’ll stop bugging you, but you have to talk to us about it, none of us can read your mind.”

“We’re not together!” Barry snapped, still staring at the coffee machine. “You can’t break up with someone you’ve never dated.”

“Wow, shit move.” Hartley sounded cold, taking a deep breath. “You can be a real dick sometimes Allen, but you can’t deny three years together.” 

“What’s gotten into you? What happened to the speedster that loves us?” Len said, Barry turning to see both men standing, Hartley looking on the verge of crying while Len looked angry.

“He doesn’t exist anymore! I’m not your Barry and trying to find a place in a world you don’t know is kind of hard!” Barry growled, both men taking a defensive stance.

“Where’s our Barry then?”

“He’s me now. This new world isn’t the earth I lived on, this is strange.” Barry says, Len and Hartley still giving him dirty looks.

“Have you been time traveling again?”

“I wish, but no this is much worse.” Barry said, sliding down the counter, throwing his head in his hands. Both men stared at Barry as silence befell the three men.

“Explain right now what’s going on or I’ll assume you're a clone or something and blow you through that bar.” Hartley warned, Barry’s shoulder drooping.

“There was this crisis, a wave of antimatter swept through the multiverse and erased infinite numbers of earths, including my earth, earth 1. Oliver died and created this new world, earth-prime. Things are so different here, I’m not a CSI anymore, dead people on my earth are alive here, my parents grave is missing, I can’t find my house, and my wife is married to my friend on this earth. I can’t figure anything out and there’s almost no one that can understand what I’m going through because unlike everyone else with memories of the multiverse I wasn’t given memories of this life. I lost a daughter last year and now I’ll never get to meet her again.” Barry broke down crying, hiding his face in his knees. He hears footsteps, and slowly two pairs of arms wrapped around, Barry leaning into them. 

“Take a second to calm down, let it all out Scarlet.” Len said, Barry leaning his head down, against Len's shoulder. It took a few minutes, but Barry managed to calm down enough to sit up straight. “Okay, ready to talk?” Len asked, nodding Barry cleared his throat.

“So you’re telling me that an infinite number of worlds were erased from existence and this earth is what replaced them? There are so many issues with that, you’re crushing together all these worlds into one world.” Hartley said, Barry looking over at him.

“Only three earth have been smashed into one, that’s all we found so far.” Barry mumbled, looking at the other meta.

“Okay so you said you were married to someone.”

“Iris.” 

“What about us?” Hartley motioned to him and Len.

“You, last we talked, were fixing your relationship with your parents, then you set up a center to work with people that had been affected by the particle accelerator. You also opened up a few shelters for kids that had been kicked out by parents for their sexual orientation.” Hartley smiled, nodding. 

“Sounds like a great person, but my parents are homophobic pieces of trash.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty terrible still, but they were trying.”

“What about me? Still with the Legends?” Len asked, Barry casting his eyes down.

“You died a hero, saving Mick from a self sacrifice. You held down the detonation on something called the Oculus, blew yourself up with these guys called the Time Masters. I’ve met your doppelganger, Leo Snart. He was married to Ray Terrill, a man that was a ray of light. They lived on this world run by nazi’s...they’re all gone now.”

“You must have lost a lot in exchange for what you have now.” Len said, pulling Barry for cuddling, Hartley rubbing up and down his thigh.

“I feel so displaced in this world, I’m not the Barry you guys love.”

“Sure you are. You are the same, sappy hero, with a great ass. Just because you don’t remember us, doesn’t mean we can’t be together. We can start again.” Hartley says, Barry looking at both of them.

“I just want to go home.” Barry said, Len placing a kiss on Barry’s forehead.

“We’ll take you home.” He whispered, the next thing he knew he was being carried in Len’s arms, Hartley taking the lead with the car keys.

Barry followed the two lovers into the house, keeping quiet as he took a look around. “I’ll start dinner, any request Barry?” Hartley asked, watching Barry pick up a photo from their anniversary. “I can make your favorites?”

“A banana?” Barry mumbled, staring intently at the picture. They looked so happy, sitting at a diner Barry didn’t know, leaning against each other. 

“A banana?” Hartley asks, nose scrunched at the idea of just fruit.

“It’s all Iris could make that was edible.” Barry said, sitting the picture down.

“Well we all can cook, how about I make you some tacos?”

“Okay...what ways is the bedroom?” Len pointed the way, Barry taking off towards the back room, Len joining Hartley in the kitchen. 

Barry took his time looking around, seeing many of his belongings around the room. The closet door was opened, Barry going through it to try and get a glimpse of what their life was like. When he got to the back he came across a familiar parka, behind that a newer looking costume that Barry was sure belonged to Hartley. A smile came to his face seeing the costumes, glad to have some familiarity in his life. Pulling away Barry turned to face the rest of the room again, eyes settling on the bed, his body moving on autopilot. Barry found himself sitting on the bed, a small tingle of familiarity coming over him. Reaching under the bed Barry found the old shoebox full of photos of his parents and his life at Joe’s. Dragging the box out Barry hoisted it up on the bed, the old box dusty. Flipping it open, Barry saw the messy pile of pictures of his childhood, bringing a smile to his face. He heard giggling coming from the kitchen, a chill running up his spine as he started pulling pictures out of the box, starting to come across ones with the three of them.

The first one was after Savitar, Barry could tell by the way they were dressed, Hartley’s costume was still the old one that Barry had known. Len had his same old parka and goggles on, apparently being the picture taker as Hartley and Barry were wrapped around him. There were a few pictures like that in there from over the last three years, ones Len shouldn’t have been present in.

Closing the box Barry slid it off the bed, leaving it on the floor as he laid down on the bed, resting his head against a pillow. Breathing in the first thing he smelled was the scent of Hartley’s shampoo and conditioner, the smell taking over his senses. Rolling over Barry was met with Len’s scent on the other pillow, smelling like his after shave. Barry laid there for a moment, thinking over what his new life entailed, what he’d lost and gained. 

A knock came to the door, Barry shooting up to see Hartley smiling from the door, dishes clanking in the other room. “Hey, dinners ready. Len’s setting the table now.” Nodding Barry stood, following the young meta out of the bedroom and into a dining room Barry was sure was covered in stolen art.

“Hey Scarlet, if you don’t like the cooking I got a banana for you.” A smile crept to Barry’s face as he took a seat across from Len. 

“So what do you guys do in this timeline for work?”

“Kind of working at Star Labs, if you're worried I’m still thieving don’t. You gave us that choice a while ago and we decided to go straight.” Hartley said, nudging Barry’s foot.

“I’m a consultant for the CCPD, what’s a better way to figure out a theft than from a thief.” Len said as he served himself.

“How’d this all happen? The Hartley and Snart of my world hardly knew each other.”

“Well when you wanted to move the metas and I betrayed you Hartley and I just..clicked. Later down the road and many team ups later we decided to make it a party for three.”

“I’d like to try and be part of your guys’ world, it’ll take time, but I want memories of this new world that aren’t all negative.” Barry said, two hands reaching over and gripping his. 

“We’ll go at your pace okay, no pressure.” Hartley smiled, both he and Len looking at Barry with understanding and patience.

[quicksilversquared]

Rumble On

Thunder rolls and lightning flashes overhead, but this time, Marinette isn't falling in love during a thunderstorm. Instead, she's decided to give up on her crush and move on.

links in the reblog

Marinette gave up her crush on Adrien Agreste on a stormy Tuesday afternoon.

It had been a long time coming, she reflected as she raced home in the rain, dodging pedestrians the best that she could as she tried and failed to not get too wet without raincoat or umbrella. She had held a torch for him for ages, trying again and again to ask Adrien out with no success whatsoever, only managing to make a fool out of herself as she tripped and babbled and mixed things up when she tried to confess. It was a more recent revelation that she had compromised parts of herself and her beliefs and even her feelings to make Adrien happy- standing down and not making waves instead of standing up for injustice, for one, and feeling bad about celebrating when her long-time bully (and the school's biggest bully) was meant to leave the school- and she had sometimes even acted in ways that, when she looked back on them...

Well, that wasn't her. It shouldn't have been her.

The last straw had come when Chloe had bullied Rose that afternoon. Marinette had been comforting Rose (no, her scrapbooks didn't look bad, Chloe just had no taste and liked making people feel bad about their work because she herself didn't have an ounce of talent in her body) and Chloe had gone up to Adrien and he... just started talking to her like everything was normal. Like she hadn't just bulled someone into crying, even though she (and everyone else in Paris) knew better than to deliberately make people feel bad, because of the danger of akumas.

As though the person being bullied to the point of near-tears wasn't a friend of his, too.

The worst part had been when Rose had seen Adrien talking to Chloe, giving a small, polite smile in response to something that she had said. Her entire being had crumpled.

And Marinette could no longer make excuses for him. She wouldn't.

"Are you okay, Marinette?" Tikki asked as Marinette headed up the stairs and into her room, determination in every step. "You look like you've decided something."

"I'm giving up on my crush on Adrien." Marinette reached for the first of her photos, pulling it down as thunder rumbled outside. "I fell in love with him because he was so open and kind about the misunderstanding over the gum incident. But that kind of gets cheapened when he's too kind, even to people who certainly don't deserve it. It's just- whatever connection I thought was there- it wasn't."

It seemed like too often lately, Marinette was seeing the downsides to Adrien's kindness- he was giving people who certainly didn't deserve it too many second chances and tolerating people basically walking all over him and over the rest of their classmates. It was like he didn't see the consequences of not taking action against bullies and liars.

It wasn't attractive. And it was exhausting to have to deal with those consequences all the time.

"It's very likely that Adrien was raised to avoid conflict no matter what," Tikki said, flying higher to help Marinette pull down a couple posters that were too high to reach. "Just based on what I've heard of his father, it would be really, really likely. And it's frustrating to see, I know, but habits like that can be hard to break."

"I know, but you still have to have to recognize when enough is enough!" Marinette yanked down another photo, frustration bubbling under her skin. The lights flickered overhead as lightning flashed over Paris. "And there's a difference between avoiding conflict and actively enabling bullies! And there's a difference between avoiding conflict and telling other people that they should avoid it, too, or that they shouldn't be happy when a bully goes away! Like sure, it's not good to be celebrating someone else's misfortunes, but we weren't. We were celebrating the idea of being able to come to school without getting bullied, mainly. And he didn't like that. That was important enough to him to speak up about it, but watching Chloe bully people isn't, apparently."

Several more pictures came down, hard enough to pull off a couple specks of paint on the wall. Marinette scowled at that and then at the tape on the offending poster, then huffed and tossed it in the slowly-filling recycling bin.

"If I had been able to think straight then, I would have spoken up about that," Marinette added after a minute, dumping another armful of pictures in the bin with a scowl. She flinched at a too-close flash of lightning outside of her window. "I would have stood up for ourselves instead of getting all sad that I had made Adrien upset. Maybe he could have recognized that what he wasn't doing wasn't right then. He shouldn't be standing up against a bully's victims but not the bully herself."

Tikki flew after her. "You're not going to stop being his friend, are you?"

Marinette wrinkled her nose at the question. "I've not really been much of a proper friend to Adrien, have I? More of a friend of a friend, considering that we don't hang out with each other without Nino and Alya much. But no, I'm not going to stop being his friend. And I want to be a better friend."

"Oh, good!" Tikki landed on Marinette's shoulder, watching as Marinette pulled down her calendar to erase - well, not all of Adrien's activities, because she kept all of her friends' schedules on it so that she could help organize group outings that would be able to include everyone, but all of the extra notes that she had taken on what Adrien was up to. "Maybe with your help, he can grown past the unhealthy behavior that he's been taught."

"Maybe." Marinette gave her calendar one more look before shutting it and returning to her desk, setting all of her pictures in the recycling bin under her rain-soaked window and sitting down at her computer to change her desktop photo. While Tikki's suggestion sounded good, Marinette kind of needed some time and space for herself before diving in to try to help someone else improve themselves. She couldn't keep giving and helping and being there for people if she pretty much burnt out already. "And speaking of not-so-healthy behavior, I think giving up on my crush will be good for me."

Tikki frowned. "What do you mean, Marinette?"

Marinette sighed, turning away from the computer to give Tikki her full attention. "I mean, there's a lot of things, I think. It's emotionally exhausting, getting all anxious about how Adrien sees me and if I should try asking him out. And then when I say dumb stuff because I'm all wound up, and then I hyperfocus on that and what Adrien probably thought afterwards, and it- I'm busy enough with other stuff without spending time on that, and it feels awful besides!"

"Oh, Marinette..."

"And that isn't all," Marinette admitted. There was more, a realization had been creeping up on her for a while now, but she had just done her best to ignore it until more recently. "I let myself get swept up in the whole get the boy thing. Like, at first, it was just Alya and I giggling over how cute Adrien was and over-analyzing it whenever he waved to me, and maybe I sometimes thought about asking him out, but it was different! It wasn't something I was trying to do every other day, or whenever I saw Adrien outside of school. Not that I saw him that often away from the rest of the class, anyway."

"Not until Alya and Nino started dating," Tikki finished, raising her voice so that Marinette would still be able to hear her over the slowly fading rumbles outside. "And there were more opportunities for Alya to set the two of you up." She frowned. "Alya really started pushing the two of you together after that, didn't she? Even when you said no."

"Yeah, but I should have pushed back more. The last time I got together with the other girls to plan how I could ask out Adrien, I remember feeling uncomfortable with the elaborate set-ups and the whole not-being-entirely-legal stuff and the suggestions about beating out my 'competition' with Kagami," Marinette told her kwami, her voice getting quieter with every word. "And I just- I ignored that and didn't voice any objections because I was too focused on the end goal of asking Adrien out successfully. Even though he told me that he liked Kagami, which- well, that should have been enough for me to stop trying to ask him out, considering that I pretty much already know what his answer would be."

Tikki blinked at her. "Are you sure he would say no? Has Adrien gone out with Kagami again after the ice rink, do you know? As a date, not as something that their parents had them do together?"

With a groan, Marinette flopped back in her chair and threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know! And if we were normal friends who talked on a regular basis, then I would know. And if we were normal friends, I would be able to call him out on stuff like what happened today, and I wouldn't- well, I think I would have done a lot of stuff differently."

Tikki only chirped and nuzzled Marinette's cheek in comfort. For her part, Marinette just let out a long breath, trying not to let the frustration at- well, at herself, at Adrien, and the whole mess- get to her.

Honestly, even though part of her was sad to let her crush go- she had made plans for her and Adrien's future together, and she had spent nights (and days) daydreaming about those plans, and having fun drawing out plans for couple outfits, and then giggling with Alya about each and every interaction that she had had with Adrien- it was really for the better, the splash of cold water that she needed to take a step (or several steps) back and look at how she had handled having a serious crush.

Now that she had recognized that she had let things get a bit out of hand, she wouldn't let it happen again in the future. Any future crushes would be healthy ones. And any attempts to ask her future crushes out would be in completely normal scenarios, not engineered ones because she wasn't confident enough to pull her crush aside for a minute at school or when they were out with their friends and confess.

(Looking back at their whole Operation Secret Garden fiasco with a clear head, Marinette could admit now that it was stupid and illegal and really, they should have just had a picnic in the area and when Adrien finished, she could have gone to say hi instead of harassing Adrien's driver to keep him out of the way. Marinette was glad that she had at least done the right thing in helping the struggling mom get up the steps instead of staying hidden during their Operation, but she really should have had at least some reservations at the time about the whole setup but she hadn't (or at least hadn't let herself really think about the reservations she had), and that- that wasn't her. She couldn't let it become her.)

"What are you going to tell the girls next time they want to come up with a date?" Tikki asked after several seconds, jolting Marinette out of her thoughts. "The last time you thought about letting your crush on Adrien go so you could support him on his date with Kagami, they didn't really like that idea."

"Yeah, well, it's not their choice to make, is it?" Marinette did a quick couple clicks on her computer, changing her background to something more generic and deleting her entire folder of digital Adrien photos in one go. "I don't have to explain everything to them. I'll just say that I'm done with my crush."

"You might want to come up with a better explanation," Tikki advised her as Marinette deleted everything from her computer's recycling bin, getting rid of them for good so she couldn't be tempted to restore them. "Otherwise, I bet that they'll keep trying to set you up." She followed Marinette as she scooped up her recycling bin and hauled it towards her door, down to the rest of her family's home. "Are you going to go for Luka, then? If you've given up on Adrien?"

Marinette didn't even have to think about it before shaking her head. "I don't think that that would be a good idea. I don't want to jump straight from one crush to another, for one, and, well, I don't think it would be a good idea for me to try to date while I'm Ladybug."

That, too, was a more recent revelation, something that had been brewing distantly in the back of her mind and something that Marinette really should have paid attention to before. Her friends already complained enough about her missing get-togethers because of akuma attacks. If she had tried to date Adrien- if she tried to date anyone- while Hawkmoth was still active, the relationship wouldn't last long. Best-case scenario, they would just drift apart after a couple months and then break up. Worst-case scenario, a relationship would end in flames, with whoever she was dating getting so fed up with her that they couldn't even stay friends afterwards.

That- that would be devastating, especially if she really liked them.

On top of that, Marinette didn't have any time for dating. She had been overwhelmed by her responsibilities on more than one occasion recently, and she needed time to relax and unwind and catch up on sleep and design for fun, all things that were slowly getting showed to the side.

"That sounds smart, Marinette!"

Marinette couldn't resist the rueful smile that appeared on her face as she headed downstairs. "Yeah, well, it's about time I was actually smart about the whole dating thing. I haven't been for a long, long time." She rounded the last set of stairs, finally reaching ground level and ducking into the back room where her parents kept the bakery's trash and recycling bins. She glanced down at her recycling basket one more time, at the photos that she had built up over the course of the past year (past year and a couple months, really), hours of searching and clipping out and picking out her favorites to display, all shoved into the basket.

Decisively, Marinette emptied all of the pictures into the giant recycling barrel, watching them sift down between cans and collapsed boxes and vanish from view. As soon as the last one was gone, she headed back out of the room with her empty basket in hand, feeling lighter already as she shut the door behind her and headed back upstairs to replace the basket in her newly-cleaned room and to finally change into some clothes that weren't damp from the earlier storm.

Outside, the storm cleared away overhead as Marinette settled back in at her desk, feeling far more relaxed than she had earlier and already planning how she could redecorate her room so that the walls wouldn't feel so bare. It had been the healthy thing to do, letting go of Adrien. Her crush on him and how she had responded to her crush- well, it had gotten out of control and made her compromise her values and act- well, it had made her act not like herself. And...well, Marinette didn't want to spend practically her entire time in collège completely distracted by a boy who wasn't interested in her the same way that she was interested in him. It wasn't good for her, to keep holding on to that hope only to find herself disappointed or embarrassed yet again. That was no way to spend her time, and Marinette wasn't going to keep putting herself through it, over and over again. Not anymore.

Up in the sky, the first ray of sunshine broke through the clouds, making the rain-damp city below glitter and shine. It was going to be a lovely day.