there truly is no words that can captivate my feelings for the au/what-ifs... EXCEPT FOR MADNESS
LET YN AND HIS SUSU BE IN LOVE!!! IM GOING TO START A PROTEST!!!!
❝ You know what sinners do when they love too soon (are you ready to die?) ❞
Geto Suguru x male!reader x Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, "evil" YN with his Susu | angst and NSFW warning | sub. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 7.4k
warnings: cults, extreme ideologies, mentions of arranged marriage, talks of death, implications of child soldiers, YN's father still sucks ass, anal sex, d. penetration
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
authors note: poly!satosuguyn if they weren't fluffy basically
also, shout out to music anon for the title, I loved every title track you gave! gave me such a big boost for writing too!!!
*YN is described as having a back scar from the fight with Fushiguro Toji
Like vinyl, dark stone, and crystal — Suguru's hair has always been one of his defining factors. Those healthy locks of inky black hair that glow a dark violet under light; no matter how he wears it, his hair is the envy of all. In the years that have passed, the envious stares grew greener the longer he wore it.
With this change — among others — a new routine had been born between your small family.
Suguru does not tend to his hair. His husband and his daughters do. Not because he commands it. Suguru would never command them to do anything, especially if it came to taking care of himself. He was more than capable.
The three of you know this. But the habit does not stop. He takes care of all of you so you do the same in any way you can. Tonight, it will be your turn to ease him down. No missions, or meetings with the "money monkeys". Suguru will return home in his car and he will return home to his family and he will return home to you.
"Master (L/N)," Nanako calls out. She's dressed for sleep, her bangs already in curlers for tomorrow and smelling faintly of the rose hair oil she'd gotten from her trip to the city. Mimiko walks behind you, holding the tray of homemade food. You smile at the rose scent that wafts from her hair as well.
"Yes, my darling?" You have told them they were allowed to refer to you without formality. Suguru had a title within his "organization" and so the twins calling him "Master Geto" was understandable — though entirely unnecessary. But if the girls felt more comfortable this way, you would not force them to change.
"When we go to Tokyo, you're going to come with us to the crepe shop, right?" her eyes gleam up at you as she turns the screen of her phone to show the interior of the famous crepe restaurant. Despite not seeing a peek at a menu, you imagine it'll be daylight robbery. "Of course! I can't let you have all the fun," she giggles at the playful wiggle of your fingers her way.
"I know a good spot for fruit parfait as well. Suguru and I used to go there as teenagers, I'm sure you'll love it." Mimiko settles beside you, and your hand finds itself atop her head in an appreciative gesture for her setting the table up.
"Really?" Nanako leans in next. "Did you use to go on dates with Master Geto? What was it like? Was he nervous?" Nanako can't imagine Master Geto being nervous, but the movie reel in her mind is unraveling, and she cannot stop herself.
"Nervous?" You ponder the memory, the apples of your cheeks warming at her blatant curiosity. Geto Suguru, nervous? Even as teenagers, Suguru had always been someone you could rely on. It was rare to see him flustered or caught off-guard. The men and women who'd glance his way as you walked with him, the girls who would shyly sneak photos and giggle, or the braver ones who'd come up to him to ask what school he was from — he was never nervous about rejecting them or politely declining their compliments.
Mimiko leans in and you're between your daughters as they peek up at you. With your chin in between your pointer and thumb and nose turned up in the air with your closed eyes, Suguru wonders what you'd been discussing before he returned.
"I'm home."
This hideout was not the home he wanted for any of you. He envisioned a better life, a home with a big yard and less concrete. It was in no way ugly, but Suguru wishes he was more free to roam.
Despite Gojo Satoru's refusal to take him and you to your execution, it did not mean there weren't other nuisances that'd jump at the chance to set this home on fire.
The twins gasp, greeting him with a smile while you remain in your pose with your brows furrowed deeply.
"Master Geto, welcome back!" he brushes his hand over Nanako and Mimiko's heads, palm lingering on their nape with a fond smile as he makes his way to the dining table.
"Dinner is almost done, Master Geto. Mr (L/N) has already prepared your bath," your eyes are open now but there's now a frown on your face as you gaze at the ceiling.
"(Y/N)?" his brow creases at the lack of reply. “Darling? What are you thinking about?” Suguru’s palm places itself on your shoulder as if on instinct your body leans into his embrace. His gojo-gesa has the scent of cigarettes and of the outside world but you don’t mind cleaning up with him so you let him squeeze you closer.
“Sweetheart?”
“The girls were asking if I’ve ever seen you nervous before when we were teenagers,” you mumble absentmindedly, “I’m just thinking. I can’t recall any...”
You drop your hand and instead turn to face Suguru. He looks tired but his smile keeps it at bay. You can’t believe it’s been 10 years since you’ve been Suguru’s husband. But the proof is in front of you; on his face.
Suguru was undeniably handsome. That hadn't changed. His skin was still supple, not yet blotchy or spotted with age spots; his hair had a few streaks of grey but they blended in so seamlessly with his inky locks. No, no - it’s his eyes mostly. That violet colour that bleeds from his pupil, makes the hazel around it much more bright. But there is not much youth left in it, not like when the two of you were still sorcerers instead of curse-users. The fat under his eyes and the slightly darkened skin tone was a reward for all the nights he spent awake, the slight sunken cheeks that he never really filled out were there too.
All the things that were the same and all the things that were new about Suguru made your heart flutter.
“You’ve always been so sure of yourself, Suguru. It’s a bit annoying saying it out loud,” his smile widens and a quiet chuckle follows it. “You’re just jealous, I recall you stuttering and blushing when you confessed to us about how much you really liked us.”
Us.
Mimiko and Nanako tilt their heads.
“Us?”
Second-year students. The expectations of your father, the expectations of sorcerer society on Satoru. Dowry sent, marriage proposal lingering in the air. Your heart is prepared to be devastated by the yes or no you’ve received because in truth you did not want Gojo Satoru - not like this and not just him.
You wanted - no, you loved the two of them. There was no denying they loved each other, the shy glances and magnetic forcefield around them constantly made them to be touching each other was proof. But they did the same to you too and you felt like you were going crazy just thinking of the way Satoru spoonfed you ice cream or how Suguru pressed you to his front when a curse nearly grabbed you.
Before a yes or no could ruin you, you’d told the two of them to head to your dorm. You would spill your guts to them with honour and pride.
You didn’t.
You tried. But as you held the metaphorical blade to your stomach your eyes welled with tears and you began to weep. Satoru was on your right and Suguru was on your left. Their hands were over your back and on your knees and their warmth and scent just made you sob.
“I love you, Satoru, Suguru. I love you both. I think - I think I really do, and I can’t...I don’t...I feel like I’m going insane.”
Suguru’s next smile came with less enthusiasm. You say nothing as he squeezes you in closer, the sleeve of his robe hiding most of you from view and that deep blue shines under the dining room light; shines true and blue and your heart aches.
Suguru says he’ll wash up with you now and the girls know better than to pry when their father gets this way. He’s never rude about it, in fact, it’s obscenely polite how he just removes himself from the room to do one thing or the other. Some topics he wishes not to talk about but the girls know what “us” means.
“He was my best friend. My one and only.”
“Gojo Satoru? He was...he was my everything.”
The shower had been mostly silent. Which you thought was not out of the blue. The spray of water and the echoing of it all, well, it made people sink into their own thoughts and you secretly appreciated Suguru for allowing you to do the same. You pumped some soap into the silicone scrubber and began washing his back.
There was a scar on his shoulder from Togetta - his spear-wielding curse - and on his side, there was another scar from Frederick, his dragon. They were more or less faded but you were careful as you touched them. Suguru hums when you rinse him off but stills when you wrap your arms around him and stroke the scar on his chest.
“...Does it still hurt?” he can feel your cheeks moving as they’re smushed to his shoulder. “Sometimes,” he whispers. You trace over it and curse that ape of a man. Curse him to hell and whatever it is he believed in.
Then you wonder if Satoru has scars too.
Your eyes sting and you pull away from Suguru. The heaviness of your thoughts lifts away from him, and he sighs through his nose.
The bath is warm and it makes your tense muscles unbind. Suguru insisted you lay between his legs and you only obliged after a few kisses and promises of your favourite snacks.
His arms are firmly around you and they trace shapes into your thighs, you watch him despite the soapy water and blurred vision.
“Cocks aren’t quite pretty when they’re all limp, huh?” Suguru is caught off-guard by your words, his eyes split open and he stares at you like you’ve grown horns.
“Excuse me?”
You jerk your chin to the thing between your legs.
“Looks like the sea cucumber 'Toru was swinging around at the beach.”
Suguru bursts out in laughter, his chest rising and falling as he hangs his head on your shoulder, hiding his face as he peeks at the thing between your legs.
"It's pretty," he chuckles out.
"Liar," you reply.
Suguru's nimble fingers trace your thighs and he wraps them around your dick, your breath hitches but your eyes do not flutter close. Tendrils of his hair slip past his ear and tickle your neck but you're not like Satoru — your neck is not ticklish and Suguru presses a kiss there as he pumps his fist.
"It's pretty," he affirms with a delicious twist of his wrist, his thumb pressing onto the tip of your cock with just the right of pressure that makes you chew on your lower lip.
"It's perfect, (nickname). A perfect cock that I love, that's twitching in my hand, sweet and warm, and when I stroke here." Suguru dips his thumb below the mushroom tip of your dick, slipping it down to your base where his deft fingers squeeze, pulling his fist up and wrapping his palm around your head and it has your breath stuttering.
"My precious boy sounds so sweet."
"The girls," you whisper out, blushing as the water jostles at his actions. "They've made you dinner, S'guru, they're — ah! — they're waiting," you hold his wrist and he noses under your jaw, sucking your skin and you inhale sharply.
"You're so hard."
"S'guru..."
"You're so close."
"Su — fuck!"
His shoulder cushions your head, chest arching upwards as he continues his actions without shame. He braces your twitching thighs open with his other hand and you're at his mercy as he unravels you.
"Su — Su — nghah —"
"Yes, (nickname)?" he coos at you. Your eyes narrow but they roll back as you feel your balls tighten, heat coiling in your stomach like a serpent. Covering your mouth, you breathe through your nose as your ass lifts from the tub and Suguru whistles in admiration, watching the rope of cum shoot out, landing in the water and on the rim of the tub.
When you fall back, Suguru's cock presses on your back. He pulls your hand away and claims your lips, brows pinching at the taste of heaven. Sucking on your tongue, nipping at your lips, it leaves you dizzy.
"The girls," he says suddenly as he pulls away from the kiss.
You pant, lips wet with spit. A breath, then two, before you shakily nod.
"They're waiting..."
Dinner was thankfully still warm by the time Suguru and you had finished your bath.
The girls share a knowing look and you comfort yourself with the fact that they always share a look. A twin thing, Nanako told you. For your sanity, you decide it's best not to prod for more.
Suguru asks them about their day. What they found, what they ate, asked if they needed anything at the end of the day whilst washing the dishes. He settles with them in the living room, pulling you into his side and the girls gather at his knees.
Nanako places her head in your lap and Mimiko does the same to Suguru. Naturally, you reach for Nanako's hair and she allows it with a hum. You braid her hair as Mimiko and Suguru discuss the latest news of the show she was watching, of the rich non-sorcerer and the cursed spirit she set loose on him.
"I think he thought the spam text he got was a divine sign," she scoffs out. "I'm sure he'll be making an appointment with you soon, Master Geto."
"A job well done, Mimiko."
Nanako leans into your touch as you card your fingers through her hair, loosening up some of the braids, wary of her sensitive scalp. Suguru tilts his head as you reach for it, brow raised in question, and even more, as you take his hairband, his hair falling over his back once again.
"Nanako, straighten your back a bit." The sight of you with his girls makes his heart swell. "There we go, not too tight, darling?" she shakes her head, pinching Mimiko's arm to ask for her camera.
"You look so pretty, sis!"
"You look fine, sis," Megumi mutters, and Tsumiki's shoulders droop.
"'Gumi, you're not helping me," she huffs. "Red or blue?"
Megumi doesn't think it matters. So long as the mittens kept her hands warm, why would the colour of it matter? Even without speaking, his thoughts are written on his face, so Tsumiki turns to Satoru instead.
"Mr Sa — Mr Satoru?" She blinks rapidly. It's hard to lose the tall man. His snow-white hair, the gauze wrapping his eyes, the obnoxious voice that cackles and giggles with glee — Megumi can sense his cursed energy but not being able to see him does make the boy straighten his back.
"Ah, your father," the sales assistant walks up to them, holding a tray of mittens. This time the colours ranged from black, pink, purple, and yellow. She points her thumb in the direction of the store's entrance. "He said he had to take a call, he told you two to stay here while you wait. We've prepared some hot chocolate for you — you two don't have any allergies, do you?"
Tsumiki answers their question, a bit flustered at the news while Megumi stares at the door. Their car is still outside, no longer idling and with the cafes around here he's sure Satoru had asked the driver to wait elsewhere too.
He wonders where he's gone. Did he sense a curse? Was it an important call?
"...Whatever," he turns to the next tray. The chocolate drink was warm, comforting, and present. He just hoped whatever got Satoru's attention didn't take too long.
Satoru's footsteps halt in front of the restaurant. Some barbeque place that'd make the scent of grilled meat, cheap beer, and smoke stick to your clothes. He enters, bowing a bit to avoid bumping his head on the doorframe. The server perks up at the sight of him but his eyes zero in on you.
Leaning on the threshold of one of their private rooms, just behind the server's shoulder. You're dressed in a turtleneck sweater, the colour making your skin look like a dream. When your eyes lock in, he has to stop himself from returning the smile you give him.
"Don't worry about it," he tells the server as he walks past him and straight into the room. He takes off his shoes, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists for a moment before he slides the doors open.
"Satoru, you came." Suguru is dressed in a turtleneck as well, his hair tied up in a half-up half-down hairdo, his stubborn bangs still framing his face. You're sat next to him, pouring some drinks into a cup. "Of course he would, Su-Su. Don't sound so surprised," your words aren't meant to be mocking but Satoru's jaw clenches anyways.
"He's our husband after all," you meet his eyes again and the grin on your face is so sincere Satoru feels like he'd been slapped in the face with guilt.
"Husband?" He slid the doors closed, ignoring the two cursed spirits that were in the corner of the room. "You two must miss me a lot to use that title again, the last time — "
"The last time, you claimed we weren't," you snap. Suguru squeezes your knee under the table. The last time, the three of you had gotten into a fight. It was the usual. He pleads for the two of you to come back, you plead for him to join your cause, and Suguru tells you that Satoru won't which will light a fire in you that neither can extinguish.
"Forgive me for stating the obvious fact that husbands should share a home together," Satoru sits across from the both of you and although your words are harsh, you move to sit next to him.
"We have a home that we can share," you wrap your arms around him and Satoru's arms pull you in closer. "You just won't come home, Toru. Come home."
It pains him to hear you say this again. His home had always been the two of you. It hurts him that he can only meet his husbands in secret as if it is something to be ashamed of. But what other option did you give him?
"(Y/N)," Suguru calls out. You frown but you drop it in favour of kissing Satoru. He likes kissing you. The arms around your waist tighten and he groans into the kiss. Suguru watches the two of you over the rim of his cup. He watches as Satoru slips his hands up your sweater and shivers from his cold touch.
"Sa — Toru — " he ignores you, parting from the kiss to instead latch his glossy lips to your now exposed nipples. He ignores the grip you have on his shoulders, the wriggling of your torso and simply pulling you in closer.
"Impatient as ever, Satoru." Suguru places his cup down just as Satoru pushes the side dishes away from the table to place you there. This room was one without a grill, thankfully, and the cooked meat would be sent to the room instead.
Satoru ignores Suguru as well, intently marking you up. The low table digs uncomfortably in the back of your thighs as Satoru's weight on you makes you breathless. Suguru reaches out, grabs a fistful of Satoru's hair, and forces him to look at him.
"Satoru. You're being mean." Suguru tilts his head down and it makes Satoru's dick fill up in his pants.
"Not without any prompting," he defends as he surges up. Their noses bump into each other and without a second to waste, Satoru claims Suguru's lips with a righteousness that makes Suguru smile.
You watch as their lips press together, licking yours as Suguru makes Satoru groan when he tightens his hold on his hair once again. It is still the strongest sorcerer in his spot. Akin to a kitten being grabbed by his scruff. Except Satoru isn't a defenseless kitten now, is he?
He's a mysterious beast that belongs in prophecies and myths. A white dragon with shimmering scales that shone in every colour like opal under the sun. His teeth are so large and dark, his maw harbors Death within it. But not for his husbands, no.
For his husbands, this mighty dragon's maw is a source of pleasure. Satoru gulps thickly as your tongue traces the hill of his throat. Your mouth latching onto his neck like a lamprey, all teeth as you mottle his skin. His poor husband, his darling beloved, his (Y/N); you must've missed him.
That's the only way he can rationalize your need to pull down his scarf, tossing it aside as you reach beneath the layers of his jacket and shirt to feel his naked skin. Suguru moans out your name between the kissing when Satoru whispers it to him, his eyes fluttering open as Suguru unravels the bandages around his eyes.
"Husband," you call out, teasingly nipping at Satoru's chin as you sit up properly. Suguru kisses the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your nape as his warm hands squeeze at your clothed thighs. Heaven looks your way and it relishes in the way your pupils dilate.
It's proof this love is real. Forgive him for doubting you, but he misses you so badly, (Y/N). He wants his husband's home, so his bed is never cold.
He envies the both of you. Not knowing how large your bed feels even when the both of you hold onto each other because that's how awful love is; it lacerates deeply into your skin, going past the layers until all you do is bleed. The cruelest thing is, that it requires to be stitched up and tended to but refuses anything other than the one you desire the most.
When fate is in the way of that, all you can do is bleed and hurt.
It's not that you're not enough for Suguru or Suguru is not enough for you. It's that the both of you have cut each other so deeply, not being together only ever leaves all three of you aching.
Incomplete. Jagged. Cracked. Flawed.
But when the both of them have their lips on you? When their large hands grope and caress you as if you were the only medicine they needed? When your name rolls off their tongues and they beg for you to allow them to please you?
"Satoru, Suguru." Your husbands lean in. Suguru on your left, from behind you, answers your call with a deep hum that makes your cheeks warm. On your right, Satoru presses a kiss to your jaw, an airy 'yeah, baby?' coming from him that makes Suguru pry your thighs apart.
"I missed you."
They understand what you mean. They understand what you need.
The curses keep the door closed, staring aimlessly like statues. Unbothered by the sight before them.
The side dishes that had fallen are staining the flooring but Satoru will be sure to leave a hefty tip for the restaurant to turn a blind eye towards it. The more pressing matter is the way you're being bounced in front of him.
He's panting, eyes trained on the hands gripping onto the mounds of your ass. It kneads and pulls it apart, deliberately showing him the way you're clenched around Suguru's dick. How easily you take him in and how with every drag down, you squeeze around him so deliciously it makes Suguru's balls tighten.
You toss your head back, moaning out wantonly as Suguru sucks his teeth. Satoru presses his palms to your waist and you grin loosely as he tilts your head further back just so he can kiss you. With how uncoordinated the position is, it's a bit messy but it makes your dick strain against Suguru's stomach.
"Think you're ready for me too, my beloved?" Satoru murmurs, relishing in the way you're gazing up at him. "Why do you need to ask such silly questions," you whine.
"I was made to take the both of you."
Suguru chuckles, giving you a thrust that has you hiccuping in pleasure. "Such a dutiful husband, aren't you?" Satoru teases, reaching forward to cup your chest in his hands and palming at your nipples.
"Of course he is, Satoru," Suguru replies with a smooth tone of voice. "He's ours. He's perfection. Like he said, made just for us."
You preen under their words and touches. Overwhelmed with want as your hands pull away from Suguru's neck and reach for Satoru's biceps.
"Stop toying with me. Fill me, completely," you ignore the way your heart aches at the way Satoru is gazing at you. "Fill me until I can only think of pleasure."
"What man says no to such a sweet command," his kiss on your shoulder simply makes the heartache stronger. You wish this could be forever. Not just monthly romps that get spaced out between arguments of disapproval or busy schedules.
Satoru doesn't deserve that. Suguru and you don't deserve that.
It's the damn world that's at fault. That man with that freakish scar, the higher-ups who recruit children to fight their battles. Who placed the weight of the world onto your shoulders and shoved you into the battlefield. It's a graveyard and the longer you stay on it, burdened by responsibility that no child should carry, the more prominent the name on the headstones becomes.
That school, the generation that comes after you, do they know the halls are tombs?
Why should children fight for the weak?
Why should older sorcerers use children as vessels to prolong their existence?
Why can't the world just allow you to live in peace?
These scars are engraved in your body and heart. They should not be there. But they are anyway and it's the reason you gaze down at white sheets with disdain.
Riko, Amanai, Haibara.
Satoru...
Flashes of him bled out and dead on the stones of Tokyo High make you rigid. Satoru is talking to you, but his voice sounds like a distant echo. Suguru cups your cheek and you squeeze your eyes closed.
"Please, I only want to feel you." Your tears darken your lashes and Suguru shares a look with Satoru. They speak without words and you can hear their mute conversation without even stealing a glance.
"I just need to feel you."
Suguru lifts you and you cry out in despair so he kisses you to assure you. "Just changing your position, my love. Here, I know you miss this rude man."
You're facing Satoru now and you can see that pinkish scar on his forehead, his neck having a stark star-like scar, when your hands grip the top of his thighs; you can feel the rise of ripped skin. Everyone assumes he never got hurt, much less has such an array of scars, but you and Suguru know better.
Suguru squeezes your waist and he tucks his head to your neck. His chin balances on your shoulder as his lashes brush along your skin.
Satoru is silent as you comb his bangs away, your thumb brushing over his scar. "Does it ever hurt?" You ask. He brings the tip of your fingers to his lips. "Never. Nothing but a blemish."
Suguru scoffs, the scar across his chest bumping into the one on your back. If you close your eyes, you can probably hear the sound of friction your skin creates. Satoru smirks at Suguru, taking your finger into his mouth. His teeth press down on your joint and you giggle at the silliness.
His dexterous tongue is more cheeky in its endeavors. Purposefully, he closes his lips around the digit, sucking lightly and letting his tongue remind you of those nights he spent languid hours between your legs in Suguru's dorm room.
"You're perverted," you pant out.
"You love me," Satoru mumbles.
"Fortunately for you, we do," Suguru muses.
Satoru pulls your finger out, leaning in to kiss you. Your lips part as his tongue slithers inside, stealing your breath and soul. Greedily, Suguru twists your face and separates the both of you, the string of saliva breaking as you gasp into his mouth next.
Satoru isn't heartbroken. The sight is heaven and he imprints it into his brain. Reaching down, Satoru carefully lifts your hips and you quickly get the hint. He lets you go, grabbing onto his cock and lining it up with your entrance that's craving for him.
Suguru watches you while your eyes roll. Satoru inhales, eyebrow twinging at the heat that wraps around him.
"I missed this hole, my perfect little hole," he groans out. Obsessed with the way you stretch out around him, clenching and unclenching as he eases you down on his cock.
"Good boy," Suguru whispers to you, his hands grasping your cock and stroking you. "You're almost halfway down. That's it, baby."
"Suguru," he calls out. Nodding, Suguru presses a kiss to your shoulder, grabbing his own dick to press his head to your hole. Satoru spits into his palm, rolling it over your tip which makes you keen.
"Uh-uh. Loosen up, (Y/N). Easy, baby." Satoru 'scolds'. You hang your head down, panting as you feel Suguru nudging into you. Your empty hands reach to hold onto Suguru's knees. "Such a good boy. I'm almost inside, shhh, it's alright. You can do it, baby. I know you can."
Satoru laughs breathlessly as he feels Suguru's length rub against his, biting down on his lip at the sensation. You're whining at the stretch and Satoru shushes you, stroking your cock in just the right way that makes both of your husbands moan when you tighten around them.
"Fuuuck," Suguru's open-mouthed breathing on your nape coupled with the sight of Satoru's head tossed back makes you feel bold enough to allow gravity to help you the rest of the way down.
The loud 'plap' sound that echoes when you drop down makes Satoru and Suguru choke out your name. You're gasping, lips loosely pulled in a grin; completely proud of yourself.
"I'm the pervert?" Satoru groans out.
"As if yuh - you can take two big cocks up yours," you retort.
"The both of you are insane," Suguru concludes.
It's a symphony of movement and noise. As Suguru thrusts out, Satoru thrusts in; that sweet bundle of nerves never getting a moment of reprieve. The sheen of sweat that glimmers on your skin makes you cold, so you reach for them and they press closer. Sandwiching you between their bodies.
Their mouths mottle what skin they can reach. Their teeth taint your flesh. Satoru is bruising your mouth while Suguru's hands are leaving prints all over your hips and Satoru's waist.
It's Satoru that proposes new positions. Clearly pent-up as he takes you in any way he can. Cushioning your back as Suguru fucks you from above, scratching the back of your thighs as he holds your legs open for Suguru.
His mouth takes you in while Suguru laps up their cum from your hole. The sounds you make together are absolutely obscene. The low table has you pinned on it more than once, toppling over as Suguru teasingly rips you away and Satoru gives chase.
It's fun. It's passionate. It's love in its filthiest form.
The laughter, the moans, the pleading, the tears, the cum, the sweat.
By the end of it?
The room is a mess. Your thighs are twitching as Suguru sweetly brushes your hair away from your face, encouraging Satoru to pump another load into you with that saccharine-sweet voice of his.
"Aw, that's it, Satoru. You're doing so well, making our (Y/N) feel so good, yeah? You feel good, baby?"
You whimper, cock weakly twitching on your stomach in a pool of its own wetness. Each thrust makes it spurt more and Satoru is rabid as he watches. Suguru chuckles, kissing you again and Satoru groans as he thrusts as deeply as he can inside of you to paint your insides white.
"S'toru," you shakily moan. Giving one last pathetic dribble of pearls.
"What a good boy, the both of you," Suguru laughs as Satoru barely catches himself from falling completely on top of you. Satoru kisses Suguru back, groaning as he does and you moan as you feel his dick twitch inside of you.
"We can't," Suguru whispers.
"One more time, please," Satoru pleads.
"We can't," you pant out.
His jaw sets. When he pulls out, you shudder as their cum trails out. Satoru stares at the floor, panting while Suguru summons the curses to come closer. One holds out a bowl of warm water while the other has a cloth.
"Don't," Suguru mutters, "Don't bring it up, Satoru."
He sniffles, the act derisive, and stands up. You watch him, the haze you're in quickly dissipating at the anger in his eyes.
"You could come home —"
"Satoru," you plead.
"No! You could! Come home, so this won't end!"
Your body — that was all limp and relaxed — tenses. Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru as he cleans you up, wiping away what he can. The action feels bittersweet. As if this meeting of passion was something to be ashamed of when it shouldn't be. You had the right to wear their love with pride but yet...
Here you are.
"Why can't you just come home?" Satoru's shoulders drop, defeated. Like that day Suguru and you announced your decision to betray Sorcerer Society by becoming Curse Users.
"There's room for you." You lean against Suguru as he helps you to sit. "Satoru, please. You know we want nothing more than — "
"(Y/N)," Suguru's voice is curt and his tone icy. You frown at him, shaking your head as you turn to face your Satoru.
"If you could only just, just see what we do —"
"Kill civilians? Scam them out of their money?" He scoffs. Satoru reaches for his discarded clothes and snatches the towel Suguru's curse spirit offers to wipe himself down.
"They deserved what they got!" Your argument is met with a reproachful glare. Suguru warns Satoru with a glance and it simply fuels his ire.
"My daughter is a non-sorcerer. Does she deserve death too?"
"Our daughter's only crime was that they were sorcerers! Those villagers, you didn't see what they did."
"Don't start," Satoru growls. He's pulling on his shirt, and his pants. "What else could we have done?" You growl out.
Satoru turns to you, spreading his arms out in a display of annoyance.
"Called me! Called Shoko! Several other choices could have been made at that moment instead of massacring and burning down the entire village!"
"That's enough."
"And let the higher-ups enroll the girls into the school? Let them die like you did? Like Haibara!?"
"That's enough!"
Suguru's yell causes the both of you to flinch. His violet eyes are set in a glare and his usually curled lips are now downturned. He is not angry but the disappointment is clear. It's aimed at both of you.
"Let's not end this date on a sour note. It's late. We should go home."
"Suguru," it would amuse him how Satoru and you call out to him in unison and it does. It reminds him of those days when you'd be clinging onto his back while Satoru pokes his side, begging for him to do whatever it is your mischief wishes for him to. Shoko only fuelling the fire to see him groan and roll his eyes.
But this time, it causes him heartache.
"We love each other. We don't need to be screaming at each other like this."
It's dark out by the time Satoru walks back into the store. The workers greet him with enthusiasm, sheepishly showing him how Tsumiki is taking a nap in the employee's break room — which is decidedly now as fancy as the rest of the store — and Megumi giving him a hard glare.
"Was it an emergency?" He mutters. Satoru nods, walking to Tsumiki and gently nudging her awake.
"It better have been. We waited for hours."
"They gave us...hot cocoa though," Satoru grins at her yawning expression, patting her head. "Sorry for the wait, c'mon. Let's go home, yeah?"
He can't fathom what sin Tsumiki had committed against humanity. Being born without a sorcerer, being born weak, was that really a grave enough sin for her to be killed?
Tsumiki yawns once more and when Satoru extends a hand for her to take, she squeezes assuringly.
Megumi doesn't take his other but Satoru smoothly slips it into his pocket as they head to the cashier to pay for their designer mittens and whatever else they added into their cart.
Satoru glances out into the street, frowning as he sees you and Suguru passing by.
The way you glance at Tsumiki and Megumi...
Satoru loves you and Suguru more than he can express but there was no way in hell he was going to let you hurt his kids.
He tells you this without words and in a split second your eyes meet.
You relay the same information back as two girls rush to your side. Satoru only sees their hands and the slightest sliver of dark and blonde heads of hair before you disappear from sight.
"Are you okay, Mr Satoru?" Tsumiki asks, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"I'm fine, sweetheart. It's just a little chilly."
"Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
"Did you miss this?" Suguru chuckles at your words. "The courtyard of our beloved school? Surprisingly, not. Though the memories are sweet."
The veil around you draws your eyes upwards. Spinning on the tips of your toes, you twirl along the sloped tiles of the school, if only to make Suguru laugh.
"Once we kill Okkotsu Yuuta and take Rika, you'll use Divine Flame and burn everything down. I'm sure your father will appreciate your prowess."
He holds you as you drape yourself across his front, kissing you back when you connect your lips together.
"It'll be a battle of lovers," you muse. "I'll look forward to seeing you in battle, (Y/N). It's been a while since you've had the chance to give it your all." Suguru presses another kiss to your lips, earning a giggle from you.
"That Cursed Corpse is Yaga's, isn't he?" He nods against you. "The non-sorcerer is yours to defeat. I'll burn that plushie to ash."
"You're ruthless," he purrs.
"You love it," you reply.
"The world we longed for. Is here before my eyes!" Suguru exclaims from beside you, his eyes filling with tears that make yours do the same.
"It's a shame, Okkotsu." You sigh out, straightening your back as you grin at his wide eyes. "Killing you wasn't in our initial plans."
"Come, Rika!"
The sight of her makes your grin stretch from ear to ear. Suguru and you stand your ground, your palms warming up as excitement brews within you. That ideal you've fought for, the world where no sorcerer shall ever know fear or pain; it's just a reach away.
The only thing standing between you is Okkotsu Yuuta and his rabid lover. Once she was Suguru's? You expect nothing more than cowardice from those higher-ups.
"I'll keep her away from you," you tell him as you roll your shoulders. Watching as Yuuta slices through the storm of Suguru's curses with his sword. "You focus on him." The ground beneath you is blackened, spindly legs and antennas emerge just as Yuuta lands on the lamp post. His gaze on you is nothing short of murderous.
"It seems like he'll make this worthwhile, Su-Su."
"I expect nothing less. Stay sharp, my love."
You nod, your breath coming out in dark flames as you prepare to ensure your daughters will no longer know the injustice they were born into.
The fight is fast. The four of you are in that tight space of the corridors. Rika growls and snarls as she slices at you while you keep her away from Suguru and Yuuta. She's furious, screeching for you to get away while you use your flames as a barrier. The heat causes sweat to bead down Yuuta's temple and Suguru laughs at him.
"My husband's impressive, isn't he?"
"Shut up!" His sword comes into contact with Playful Cloud. When it shatters, your victory is so close now that both of you can taste it.
Suguru shielded you from what he can, but it's a vain effort. You're draped on his back, breath coming out in shallow inhales and exhales.
"S...s'guru." He hmms in acknowledgment, leaning against the wall as he tries to catch his breath.
"It was a glorious fight," you whisper. "It was, my love. It was..."
His knees buckle, so you tighten your grip on him and he assures you he's alright. Suguru hears footsteps and without even looking at him, he knows that Satoru has arrived.
"Late as usual," Suguru teases.
Satoru lifts you from Suguru's back, carrying you in his arms as Suguru slides down the wall, resting on his haunches as he stares up at Satoru.
You're in bad shape. Just like he was. Your back is nearly charred, your right hand gone and bloodied. Satoru's jaw sets as your eyes flutter open, his brows tightening as you whisper his name.
"You're here, 'Toru."
He crouches down, setting you on Suguru's lap. He balances you out, nuzzling into your face as your hand reaches to grab what you can. The rings on your fingers, glimmering under the setting sun, cause Satoru to kneel before you.
"Of course, I am, my beloved." When he holds your face, it's gentle and sweet.
It's unfair how the last time he held both of you ended in an argument, the last time you talked was when Suguru announced war.
He leans in, kissing your bloodied lips and doing the same to Suguru.
One last time, it doesn't quite register in your mind that this would be the last time you'd see your Satoru and Suguru. Your daughters, oh your poor daughters.
"...Are there any last words you'd like to say?"
Suguru chuckles while you sigh, eyelids growing heavy as your lungs breathe out black smoke. You're warm. Too warm. Suguru clutches you closer, every breath he feels on his skin feels like a grain of sand falling.
"At least, curse us a little at the end," Suguru chuckles out.
"Satoru, Suguru...I," your whisper fades off.
Your head grows heavier and Suguru glances down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"(Y/N)...(Y/N)...? Beloved — " You feel Suguru dig his nails into your sides and Satoru's hand on your face.
Then it goes dark.
"There's something different about him," Maki mumbles as she motions to Satoru. Yuuta, Inumaki, and Panda turn to watch him. Classes had finished a long while ago, it went along like it usually did. Satoru was his exuberant self — with awful explanations that raise more questions than it does answers.
"Really?" Panda scratches his ears, "He seems like his usual self."
"Well, he does seem a bit more quiet lately," Yuta mumbles. Inumaki nods, voicing his agreement.
"What are you kids doing here? It's late." The students flinch, surprised at the sight of Shoko as she emerged from the goddamn shadows. "Dinners getting cold. Go ahead."
As they rush off, Shoko meanders her way towards Satoru. He's sat in that obnoxious chair, head tilted up at the ceiling as his hands toy with the matching rings in his pockets.
She settles next to him, leaning to stare at the ceiling as well.
"You can't keep him a secret forever." Shoko sighs. "Why didn't you exorcise him?"
"His wounds were already too great, I didn't..."
The ceiling is an ever-shifting mirror, a distorted mess of flames and eyes as you groan. Your form isn't quite there yet, knowing just when it's best to hide away and keep away from the eyes of other sorcerers.
What else did Satoru expect from his husband? An intelligent Cursed Spirit, tied loyally to his side.
"When they find out?" Shoko inquires.
"I won't let them take him from me again."
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Picture Us (Together Forever)
Word Count: 26,115
ACOTAR masterlist
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TW: mentioned past homelessness, mentioned past abuse, referenced death & suicide
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A/N: For @simpingfornestaarcheron, one year late. A huge thank you to @bookstantrash for all your help with everything from brainstorming to beta reading and editing! You're the reason I actually managed to complete this fic. Credit @vidalinav for the 'Cassian's love is loud' concept, which is so ingrained in his character for me that I always end up including it.
I know I haven't posted anything for over a year and a half — I've been busy with college and have gotten into other fandoms — but I hope this long, fluffy fic makes up for my absence. Honestly, it's probably the fluffiest thing I'll ever write of this length. Also, the number of blocks in this post exceeded the Tumblr post limit, so I edited the paragraph layout to fit. The original version is posted on ao3. Please enjoy!
Present day
“Hey, sorry I got a little late,” Nesta announced as she stepped into the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Cassian. “I got held up at work because some people apparently think my job is to do everything,” she explained as she took off her coat and undid her scarf. “Eris now seems to believe that I’m a secretary and that it’s my job to deal with all the parents who want to sign their kids up for lessons or have questions about our hours. Can you believe that Vassa expects me to cover Eris’ class next Tuesday during my lunch break because he ‘has to be out of town to go apple picking’? And then, to top it off, Briallyn came to talk to me about how some people want the rehearsals for The Firebird to be at a different time. Just because I’m one of the principal dancers doesn’t mean I coordinate the rehearsal times! I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to the director or choreographer, honestly. It’s so-”
Nesta turned around and fell silent, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. The living room was decorated with candles and flowers. Rose petals were lined up on the floor, creating a walkway that led to the coffee table, which was covered in a white tablecloth. Behind the table stood Cassian, wearing a wine-red colored button-down shirt, black pants, and a soft smile.
“Cassian?” she asked, her confusion evident in her tone. Had she forgotten some important occasion? Nesta quickly ran through the list in her head. But, no, it wasn’t either of their birthdays, or their anniversary, or Valentine’s Day… So why had Cassian done all this? Sure, he had given her flowers ‘just because’ or organized impromptu date nights before, but this was on a whole different level. “What’s going on?”
Cassian’s grin split into an open-toothed smile, even as intensity and slight nervousness swam in his eyes. “Nesta, we met five years ago in the line for tickets to the Bone Carver concert, when you yelled at me for letting my friends cut the line. I turned around to yell right back, and the moment I did, my life changed. You’ve made my life so much better, in so many ways I can’t even find the words to describe. Every day with you is like a dream come true. We’ve made so many fantastic memories together over the years.”
He pulled the tablecloth off the coffee table in a sweeping motion. Nesta inhaled sharply as she took in the collection of polaroid pictures, recalling different special moments in their relationship. The collection was decorated with small doodles that Cassian had clearly drawn himself.
She sank down to her knees in front of the table.
“Cassian…” Nesta whispered, “This is beautiful.”
Her eyes drifted across the paper, until they came to rest on a single photo. Her hand reached out as if she wanted to caress the image, but floated just a hair’s breadth away from it like it was too precious to bear her touch.
Cassian kneeled down too, and glanced down at the photo she was looking at. He laughed, “Oh, yes. The bookstore date, where you used me as a human bookshelf.”
The corners of Nesta’s lips turned up. “Listen, I just wanted you to know what you were really signing up for.”
Cassian chuckled.
__________
Five years ago
“Where are you taking me?” Nesta asked for the sixth time.
Cassian once again responded by shushing her, his eyes fixed on the road.
Nesta sighed. Cassian had somehow managed to drive without using a GPS (a novel feat for him) so she couldn’t even peek at it to figure out their destination. Cassian clearly hadn’t considered how impatient Nesta was when he’d decided to plan a surprise for her.
Nesta knew she should just sit back in her seat, relax, and enjoy whatever Cassian wanted to surprise her with, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited — of course she was, and she was touched that Cassian had gone through all this effort just to plan a surprise for her. But Nesta couldn’t help but be filled with anxiety. She didn’t always react well to situations she was thrust into unexpectedly, and she wished she at least had a hint about where they were going so that she could prepare accordingly. She didn’t want to start freaking out and push Cassian away, destroying the tentative relationship they had just started to build.
She trusted Cassian and knew he’d never intentionally put her in a situation that made her uncomfortable. They had met about three months ago and he’d asked her out soon after. Although they hadn’t made anything official yet, Cassian was always so caring and kind to her, more than any of her exes. He always made her laugh and brought her Earl Grey tea with just the right amount of 2% milk. He’d given her his scarf when he’d noticed that she was cold and had never asked for it back. He loved to play with her hair, creating intricate braids as his hands tenderly massaged her head. His body was honed from ice hockey training and he towered over her, and yet he had never once made her nervous or uncomfortable, even when they had been two strangers arguing in line.
Still, there were many things that Nesta had yet to tell Cassian about. While his gentle sweetness was making her walls come down, bit by bit, she was struggling to open up fully. She didn’t want to risk scaring him away and ruining everything they’d created.
All in all, she knew Cassian would never try to make her uncomfortable, but there were many things that could set her off that he didn’t know about. If she started freaking out, and she lost him… It was stupid of her to get so attached to someone so quickly. He wasn’t even her boyfriend, for gods’ sake! Only her closest friends knew they were together. They weren’t keeping their relationship a secret, exactly, but telling everyone would put pressure on their relationship that they weren’t ready for.
Cassian’s best friend, Rhysand, was dating Nesta’s youngest sister, Feyre. The two of them had met on a dating app called Bond a couple weeks after Nesta and Cassian’s encounter. They’d fallen head over heels in love with each other, and had moved in together after just one month. Feyre kept texting the Archeron sisters’ group chat about how much she loved Rhys and how she wanted to marry him.
Nesta and Cassian needed to take their relationship at their own pace — meaning much, much slower than Feyre and Rhys. If Nesta and Cassian made it official and then broke up later… well, Nesta didn’t want to have to deal with gossip and pitying glances whenever they were at the same place together on top of everything else. Plus, she knew her sisters were nosy romantics who would start asking about going on double dates, planning Nesta and Cassian’s wedding, and making lists of their future babies’ names.
She couldn’t deal with all of that right now. When her last serious relationship had ended, she’d been left with bruises, a mountain of trust issues, and not much else. It had taken her a long time to put herself back out there again — to trust others with her body, much less her heart. Cassian had proved himself a worthy candidate, willing to be patient with her and put her at ease to help her let her guard down.
What it boiled down to was that she cared about him, far more than she probably should, and it scared the crap out of her. But she was even more afraid of losing him.
“Alright, we’re here!” Cassian’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Close your eyes.”
Nesta took off her seatbelt and did as he asked. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She listened to the click of Cassian unbuckling his seatbelt and the boom of his car door shutting. A cold breeze hit her as her door opened. She felt Cassian’s large, calloused hand slide into hers, guiding her as she stepped out of the car.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Mhmm,” she replied vaguely.
A boom sounded, followed by a quick beep beep, indicating Cassian had locked the car.
“We’re almost there, I promise.”
He stood behind her and his hands came to rest on her shoulders, gently turning her to the right and then guiding her path. They walked in silence. Nesta was glad she’d thought to put on a sweater and a jacket as the chilly autumn wind swept past them again.
Cassian suddenly stopped her and turned her body to the left.
“Okay,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His breath was hot against her neck. She shivered. “We’re here.”
She opened her eyes, and gasped.
A blue sign with the words “Pegasus Book Company” hung above a blue-framed door. A bell chimed as she entered the shop. Pegasus Book Company was one of the hidden gems of Prythian. Despite being an independent bookstore, it was quite large and well-stocked in many different genres. They also displayed artwork from local artists, which they changed every season. Most of all, the owner, Helion Spell-Cleaver, was said to be amazing at giving book recommendations. Nesta had always wanted to visit Pegasus, but she’d never found the time to drive all the way to Hemera District just to visit one store. She had only mentioned it to Cassian once in the passing. She couldn’t believe that he’d remembered and done this for her.
“Cassian…” She whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. She turned to find him with an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face.
“Surprise,” he said softly. “Sorry that I made you wait to know where we were going. I wanted to surprise you, but I know I made you kind of nervous when I didn’t tell you where I was driving to. Is it ok? I’m sorry if it felt like I was abducting you. I just wanted to, uh, not ruin the surprise.”
Nesta couldn’t find the words to explain how happy his surprise had made her. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and let the kiss express her feelings.
When they finally pulled apart, her lips formed a smile that she couldn’t suppress if she tried and she added a quiet and genuine “Thank you.”
She hoped he could read the emotions in her voice and her eyes to understand how much the thoughtful gesture meant to her. His nervous ramble, while unnecessary given how fantastic the surprise was, just showed how much he cared about her. She didn’t know how to handle such affection and kindness. She felt as though she’d cry or melt or burst with everything he made her feel. He treated her as though she were precious and beautiful, worthy of compassion and care, like her company was a gift. As though she mattered.
Later, as he carried the numerous books she selected and listened attentively to her rants about different characters, books, and authors, she was overwhelmed by the pure joy she felt and some other emotion that it was far too soon for her to name.
Cassian was special — she’d known it since the moment they’d met, when her sharpness had intrigued him rather than pushed him away. He was so perfect and amazing, and yet cared about her so much that she was still in disbelief. The dread that he would wake up one day and realize that she wasn’t worth the trouble was constantly present, and made her hesitant to give him her all for fear of him shattering her completely.
But it was already too late.
She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself, by not putting a label on things. It didn’t change how much she cared about him or how she didn’t want to think about him ever leaving her life. It was only hurting her, and more importantly, him. Nesta knew that her fears and her trauma often made her struggle to express her emotions. She never wanted Cassian to doubt how much he meant to her. Yet, it always felt like Cassian was the one doing things for her: he was the one who had asked for her number, the one who usually texted first and planned their dates, and the one who gave her meaningful gifts and surprises. He never hesitated to show or tell her how much he cared.
What if he didn’t know? She wondered suddenly. What if he genuinely thought that Nesta didn’t care as much — that their relationship didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him? The despair that the thought brought her was shocking in its intensity.
So as Cassian sat down in the driver’s seat, ready to turn on the car, Nesta blurted out, “Wait!”
He turned towards her, his face showing his surprise and concern. She acted instinctively, reaching over to pull his hands towards hers and then interlacing their fingers. She took a deep breath as she steeled her resolve. Cassian’s thumb slowly moved back and forth over her hand in a soothing gesture. He’d evidently noticed her nerves. His soft, silent support served to strengthen her determination that she had to do this.
“Cassian, thank you so much for today,” she began. “It was such an amazing, thoughtful surprise. I really, really enjoyed it.”
She paused, considering her next words.
“The past few months have been incredible. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. And I-”
“Wait! Nesta, please don’t,” Cassian interrupted. His body had gone tense and his eyes were dull in a way she’d never seen before. His hands had grown sweaty in hers.
Nesta felt her heart drop. It was too soon, wasn’t it? Oh, gods, what had she been thinking? She’d misread the whole situation. If Cassian had wanted to put a label on their relationship, he would have asked. It was incredibly selfish of her to assume that she was the only one who’d had hangups about it. He would also be put in an awkward situation with Rhys and Feyre. And really, she and Cassian had only known each other for three months. Why had she thought that she should do this? As usual, she was ruining everything by moving too fast and being too intense.
Cassian continued, his voice choking up slightly, “I know I can be- it can be too much, but I promise, I’ll- we can- this can be whatever you want. We can talk about it and I’ll- I can reel it in. I mean, I’ll respect your boundaries and, uh, wishes and, just. Please, we don’t need to end this completely, just- I-”
He cut himself off as Nesta untangled one of her hands from his.
“No, wait,” he rushed, his eyes widening in alarm, “if that’s what you really want, then of course I’ll respect it, I just wanted- but- I mean, can we at least stay fr-”
He was cut off again, this time by Nesta’s pointer finger pressing into his lips.
“Cassian,” she said, in a strong, confident, and reassuring voice, “will you be my boyfriend?”
His expression morphed instantly, shock and joy flitting over his face.
Nesta waited patiently, sitting in silence, awaiting his answer. She watched as Cassian’s free hand moved to his thigh, which he pinched more than once. Finally, he met her eyes. His mouth was barely curved upwards, as if he was too astonished and emotional to form a smile.
“Yes,” he replied.
Cassian’s hand came up to rest ever-so-gently on her cheek as their lips met for a kiss. As they continued to get lost in each other, kissing in the middle of the day in a car parked on the side of a street, Nesta knew that this was what all those fairytales and romance novels were made of.
__________
Present day
“I can’t believe you actually thought I was going to break up with you,” Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “Right after I complimented you, too.”
Cassian shrugged. “It’s a foster kid thing,” he said lightly. “If someone’s being too nice, it just feels like they’re trying to let you down gently.”
Nesta leaned across the table to press a kiss to his cheek in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.
“I’m never going to leave you, stupid,” she said. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
Cassian smirked. “I sure hope so.”
His eyes moved left to the next polaroid and his hand followed suit, coming to rest right above the image.
“Do you remember that day?” he asked, tapping his pointer finger on the table. “I was so nervous.”
“What? Why were you nervous? I was the one performing!”
__________
Five years ago
“Do you think the tie is too tight?” Cassian asked, pacing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Did I do it wrong? Fuck, do you think it’s too colorful for a formal event? Maybe I should change it to black?”
“Breath, Cassian, breath,” Azriel replied, half-serious.
Cassian rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Az,” he pleaded.
“You look fine, Cassian. It’s going to go great. Don’t worry.”
Cassian was still fiddling with his tie. “And you don’t think the color is too much?”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “It’s burgundy.”
Cassian continued to questioningly stare at Azriel.
Az sighed. “The color is fine. The tie is perfect.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Let’s get going.”
“Oh, shit, are we late?” Cassian scrambled to grab his suit jacket, his keys, and his wallet. Where were those flowers he’d bought? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about my fucking tie.” He could have sworn he’d left them on the dining table, but that was empty save for the collection of books, papers, and notebooks that Azriel had organized into neat piles. Cassian checked the kitchen counters, only to find them empty, too. Had he put them in his room? He really needed to get more organized. They were already getting late, and he was going to further delay them. “You know what, just let me- You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later, once I find the bouquet.”
“Cassian. Cassian!” Azriel snapped his fingers. Cassian paused his frantic search to look at Azriel, who was carrying Cassian’s bouquet in his arms along with two others. “I’ve got it, see? Now, let’s go.”
Before Cassian could open his mouth, Az added, “We’re not late, don’t worry.”
As they entered Bryaxis Hall, where the performance was being held, Cassian expected to feel the last of his nerves disappear.
As soon as he stepped inside, he realized how wrong he was.
The hall was decadent. The ceiling was higher than a three-story house, the floor was marble with a simple yet elegant carpet running down the center, and Greco-roman pillars with intricate designs lined the hall. A chandelier hung above the grand staircase. The walls were decorated with high relief panels, each portraying a distinct myth or story.
He followed Azriel up the stairs in silence. He was too consumed by the message every piece of architecture and decoration seemed to be yelling at him: he didn’t belong here.
It wasn’t like he’d never been to a fancy party before: the NHL had plenty of galas, but even when he was surrounded by his teammates and friends, he always felt like a fraud in a suit.
Cassian wasn’t meant for luxuries and refinement. He’d grown up dirt poor, even when his mother had still been around. After her death, he’d essentially lived out of a backpack. He’d even spent a few nights out on the streets when he’d been placed in particularly bad foster homes. Until he’d met Shirina, Rhysand’s mother, he had never even eaten chocolate — at least that he could remember.
He’d only been to watch ballet once before. Shirina had insisted that they see the Nutcracker for Yule, as that had been a tradition in her family. Rhys, being the eleven-year-old that he was, had complained the whole way about being dragged there against his will. Ayla, Rhys’ younger sister, had grumbled about having to watch the Nutcracker again, instead of seeing something different like Swan Lake. Cassian had remained silent. At twelve, he didn’t want to admit that he was interested and excited, for fear of appearing uncool. Still, he was curious and was glad that Shirina had remained insistent despite her children’s protests.
The ballet had enraptured him. He sat there, amazed by the graceful movements, the silent jumps, the whip-fast pirouettes, and the perfectly synchronized motions.
Now, as he glanced down at the playbill, he felt completely unqualified to be here. He had no idea what La Bayadère was about — quite frankly, he wouldn’t even know how to pronounce it if Nesta hadn’t told him. He didn’t know any of the ballet terminology, either. How was he going to tell Nesta what he thought of the performance if he didn’t even know how to verbalize it?
He glanced over at Azriel, hoping to gain some insight. Azriel was close friends with Nesta and two of Nesta’s ballerina friends, Gwyn and Emerie, who were also in tonight’s ballet. Right as Cassian was about to ask, the lights dimmed and the audience fell silent.
Cassian worried whether he would be able to focus on the performance with all of his anxieties swirling around his head. Nesta deserved his full attention — she had been practicing for this for so long, and had poured her heart and soul into her ballet. There were so many times when she’d been late to dates, staying back in her studio to practice a move that she wanted to perfect.
But Cassian needn’t have worried. The moment the ballet began, he was completely in its thrall. All his thoughts fled. He sat there, mesmerized, as the ballerinas danced. When Nesta entered, his breath caught in his throat. She was radiant on stage, looking like a goddess, a queen, and a warrior-princess all wrapped up in one.
After the show, when he handed her the bouquet and told her how incredible she’d been on stage, her expression made it all worth it. Her cheeks, flushed with exhaustion, were rounded as her mouth split into a jubilant smile. Her eyes were awed, as if she was so grateful for his words and presence but couldn’t quite believe he was here. Despite all of his anxieties, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
And as Cassian drove home, he realized he couldn’t wait to see Nesta’s next ballet performance.
__________
Present day
“It really did mean the world to me that you came, you know,” Nesta admitted. “And I was so nervous about what you’d think.”
“Of course I was impressed! Anyone in their right mind would be.” His comment was light. There was no need to mention that Nesta’s ex, Tomas, had considered her job to be a ‘useless passion’ that ‘should only be a hobby’. Both of them knew Tomas was a hateful piece of shit who had done his best to drag Nesta down, and were infinitely grateful that she’d gotten away from him.
Nesta shot Cassian a small smile before turning back to the pictures.
“Oh! The snowball fight!” She snorted. “Don’t show this to Rhys and Az, we don’t want to remind them.”
Cassian rolled his eyes, grinning. “They’re big babies.”
__________
Five years ago
Nesta turned around, startled, as someone tapped her shoulder.
She had been shoveling snow for the last thirty minutes in the dim light of the rising sun. Normally, she loved lying around in bed on snowy days. She was content to sit inside, drinking hot chocolate, watching the world through the window and feeling as though she had been transported inside a snow globe. One of the few perks of living in an apartment was that she didn’t need to shovel snow.
Last night, however, she had stayed over at Cassian’s townhouse. Cassian’s roommate, Azriel, had gone out, presumably to spend the night with someone. Nesta considered Az to be a friend, but he was extremely private; she had no idea if he was seeing someone, let alone who that someone might be.
Nesta turned around.
Cassian was standing there, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised. “Nesta, why didn’t you wake me up?”
Nesta rolled her eyes and turned back around to keep shoveling. “You’re sore.”
She hadn’t expected to wake up to snow piled up almost five centimeters on the ground. It was the first snow of the winter, and she wanted nothing more than to watch the snow fall from the warmth of Cassian’s bed, curled up against her boyfriend.
Then, she recalled the numerous bruises and cuts on Cassian’s body that she’d tended to yesterday. He had gotten thoroughly roughed up at his game, though when she’d remarked on it, he’d just laughed and replied that this didn’t even count as getting injured in ice hockey. Still, she’d seen him wincing as he reached to the left when he thought she wasn’t looking.
So when she’d seen the snow this morning, she’d decided that, instead of going back to sleep, she would shovel the entire walkway and driveway before Cassian woke up.
Clearly, she’d failed.
“I’m fine!” Cassian replied, just as Nesta had anticipated. “I’m not-”
Nesta cut him off by shushing him.
She had a little less than half the driveway left to shovel. She was adept at the art of ignoring someone trying to talk to you: after all, she’d grown up with two little sisters. So as Cassian continued to complain that he was not actually hurt and tried to convince her to hand over the shovel, she just tuned him out and focused on her task. She was making pretty good progress, in her opinion. Sure, her fingers were a little cold even in her gloves, but the desire to keep going and not let Cassian help at all motivated her. The spite kept her warm.
She was almost a third way done when she heard coughing. She stopped abruptly and turned to Cassian, who was wiping snow off of his face.
Her eyes widened. “Oh my gods! I’m so sorry!”
Cassian just laughed. “What, you didn’t mean to cover me in snow?”
He leaned down and grabbed a fist full of snow. “Let me show you a faster way to get rid of all this snow, sweetheart.” Nesta barely had time to duck before the snowball flew in her direction.
Abandoning the shovel, she ran away from him. Then, she made her own snowball, which she hid in her hand as she smiled at Cassian innocently. He smiled back and walked towards her until- Wham! Her snowball hit him square in the chest.
Nesta cheered.
He gasped “Betrayal!”
As she dodged his next snowball by a hair’s breadth, she stuck her tongue out at him.
Her cold dissipated as their snowball fight continued. The progress she’d made on the driveway and walkway had definitely been ruined, but she found that she couldn’t care less. Twenty minutes later, when they went back inside, covered in snow, both of them were grinning ear to ear.
It wasn’t until after they’d showered, changed, and were sipping hot chocolate that Cassian exclaimed, “Shit!”
His drink sloshed, spilling out of his mug. Nesta took a large sip of her hot chocolate — it really did taste divine with marshmallows — and looked at him questioningly over the rim of her mug.
“You can’t tell Rhys,” Cassian pleaded. “He wouldn’t understand. We need to keep this a secret.”
“What, that I had a snowball fight with my boyfriend?” Nesta answered incredulously.
Cassian’s face, however, was completely serious. “Yes.”
“I wasn’t planning on telling him,” Nesta said, struggling not to laugh, “but now I’m curious to see what’ll happen, so…”
“No!” Cassian’s eyes went wide. “You see, every year, when it first snows, Rhys, Az, and I have a snowball fight. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years. If they find out that I had a snowball fight with you first…” Cassian shook his head, as if the possibilities were too horrific to even consider.
“So basically, you cheated on them with me?” A drop of hot chocolate spilled over and ran down the side of Nesta’s mug. She caught it with her finger, which she then brought to her lips.
Cassian’s eyes followed her finger. His Adam's apple bobbed as her finger left her mouth with a pop.
“I, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat.
She smirked. “Well, I haven’t told them, but I did tell Gwyn and Emerie in our group chat when they asked what I was up to, so Az is definitely going to find out.”
Cassian groaned, putting his face in his hands. Nesta just continued sipping her hot chocolate, laughing quietly.
__________
Present day
“They’re definitely going to hold that against us forever,” Cassian sighed. “They were so mad. That whole winter, I had to watch my back. They just kept pelting me with snowballs whenever they got the chance.”
“It was hilarious,” Nesta grinned. Then, catching Cassian’s look, she corrected herself. “I mean, it was very terrifying.” She tried for a serious expression but failed, erupting into laughter.
Cassian rolled his eyes, but she could see the smile he was trying to suppress.
“You know what else they’re going to hold against me forever?” Nesta pointed at the polaroid right under the one they’d been looking at. “This. I think I almost gave them heart attacks.”
“Oh, yes. Now, that was hilarious,” Cassian agreed.
__________
Four years ago
Vroom.
Nesta pulled up to the front of the lane, right as the light turned red. Sighing, she raised her face shield.
She turned to the right, glancing absently at the car in the lane next to her. It was a black Mercedes-Benz, the same car Rhysand owned. As she looked through the rolled-down driver’s seat window, she realized that it was literally the same car, because Rhys was the one driving.
She called out to him, and he turned towards her — then did a double take.
“You- wha- how are you driving Cassian’s motorcycle?” Rhys spluttered.
Azriel’s head peeked out behind Rhys’. They sported matching shocked expressions, complete with comically wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and parted lips.
Nesta smirked. “It’s quite easy, actually. I wasn’t sure how I’d do, since I’d never driven a motorcycle before but,” Nesta patted the handles, “she’s a smooth ride.”
That was not what they’d meant by their question.
Cassian had always dreamed of owning a motorcycle. After going through his finances and realizing that he could afford one now without stretching himself out too thin, he’d finally bought one last week.
The motorcycle was his prized possession and he was fiercely protective of it. He took the time to polish it after each ride, checking to make sure there wasn’t a single scratch on his treasure. Rhys and Az had been begging to ride it ever since he’d gotten it, but he’d starkly refused, claiming they were both too irresponsible. It was laughable, because Azriel was easily the most responsible member of their trio, but even he wasn’t allowed to do more than look at it. When Az had run a single finger across the paint, Cassian had pulled him away, declaring that Azriel was being too rough and that he clearly hadn’t thought about how the oils from his fingers would interact with the materials on the bike to shorten its lifespan. Azriel had pointed out that the motorcycle was meant to be ridden, but Cassian had ignored him.
Of course it made sense that Cassian would be so overprotective of his motorcycle. He had never had many possessions. He hadn’t ever owned more than one pair of shoes until he was thirteen, when Shirina insisted on getting him snow boots and dress shoes. He’d replied, “But my sneakers still fit,” confused, and grew even more confused when Shirina wrapped him in a hug in response.
A motorcycle was something he’d never realistically imagined being able to afford. He’d look at magazines and at the seniors who’d pull up to high school in the Harvey-Davidsons that their fathers had bought them, thinking about what kind of motorcycle he would have wanted if he’d been born to rich parents who were still alive. Now that his wildest dream had become reality, he would guard it to the best of his ability.
He knew that Rhys and Azriel would treasure it as well. They knew that he loved the bike and would never do anything to intentionally harm it. Yet, they had both grown up with money. They didn’t understand the instinct Cassian had to protect the little that was his, because they had grown up with so much to claim as their own. To them, possessions were replaceable. Despite the wealth Cassian had gained, he could never shake off the memory of being a child curled around a backpack as he slept on the street instead of covering himself with it for warmth because he was afraid it would get stolen.
So when Cassian had casually offered to let Nesta try riding it, she was shocked to say the least.
“Are you sure?” she’d asked about a hundred times, but his answer never changed. When she’d admitted that she had never ridden a motorcycle before, he had just replied, “I’m honored to be your first,” with a wink. He then took Nesta, who was blushing and rolling her eyes, outside to teach her the basics.
“Alright,” he said with a clap, twenty minutes later.
Nesta got off the bike, assuming he wanted to return it to its position in the garage.
“Want to take it for a whirl?” he said instead.
She spun around to face him. “Really? But I… I wouldn’t want to damage your motorcycle. I know how important it is to you and, well, are you sure you want me to ride it?”
Cassian just shrugged, smiling. “No pressure, of course, if you’d rather not ride a motorcycle, but I’d love for you to try.” Something shifted in his eyes as he said, “I’d love to share it with you.”
Nesta blinked. She had grown up very differently from Cassian. She’d been born into a wealthy, upper-class family that later lost its wealth when her father got laid off and her mother fell ill. The medical bills piled up as her father searched in vain for work during a recession, and once her mother passed away, her father fell into the arms of alcoholic depression. Luckily, Nesta had enough training and experience by that point to gain a scholarship to her ballet school.
So while Nesta had experienced poverty, it was never in the way that Cassian had. She could only understand Cassian’s desperation to hold on to his possession on an intellectual level.
She didn’t know why he would trust her with something so precious.
“Of course I trust you,” Cassian added, as though he’d read her mind. He kissed her on the forehead, as if to say ‘you’re precious to me’. Nesta closed her eyes.
“Um,” she whispered, then cleared her throat to continue in a stronger voice, “I’d be honored.” Then, she glanced down at the dress she was wearing. “Maybe tomorrow?” she added.
Cassian laughed that hearty, deep laugh that always made her heart clench. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.”
So here she was, the next day, riding Cassian’s motorcycle. She’d been sure to dress more appropriately in her leather pants, jacket, and boots. She asked Cassian to confirm that her outfit was ok, just to make sure. He hummed approvingly as she spun around.
He then sat her down, and put on her elbow pads and knee pads on her. If it had been anyone else, she would have complained incessantly about being treated like a child; because it was Cassian, who touched her so tenderly as he adjusted the straps, she couldn’t feel anything except gratitude and joy.
“Ready?” He asked as she sat down on the bike. She gave him a thumbs up as he took a step back, gazing as though he was an artist who was looking at the tableau he’d painted. Dressed all in black, atop a black motorcycle, Nesta felt like she cut quite the figure. She felt powerful, as though she could do anything.
She turned on the engine and was about to get going when Cassian shouted, “Wait!” and ran over to her. She paused, looking up at Cassian as he ran over to her and lifted her face shield.
He kissed her, hard, and she melted into it. When he pulled away, she sat there for a moment, dazed. She brought a hand to her lips and continued to stare at Cassian. His parted lips were dark red, stained with her lipstick.
She took a deep breath, blinking a few times to regain her focus and dispel all the images of a naked Cassian from her mind. She pulled down her face shield, revved the motorcycle, and set off.
“But- how did you get Cass to agree to let you ride his bike?” Azriel asked, astounded.
Nesta shrugged, grinning. “What, like it’s hard?”
She zoomed off as the light turned green, leaving Rhys and Az in the dust with their mouths hanging wide open.
__________
Present day
“I’ll cherish that moment forever,” Nesta laughed.
Cassian grinned back at her, then pointed to a picture in the bottom row.
“You know what I’ll cherish forever? This one.”
Nesta looked at it and sighed. “Great, now mine seems shallow. Why do you have to be so kind and thoughtful?”
“I’ll try to stop.”
“That would be much appreciated.”
__________
Four years ago
Cheers filled the rink.
“GO DRAKON!” yelled the girl sitting right next to Nesta.
Emerie, who was sitting on her other side, held back a hissing Nesta by grabbing both her shoulders.
“That was ridiculous,” Nesta said through clenched teeth. “Why isn’t the ref saying anything? That was definitely a foul!”
“It was a beautiful goal,” Rhysand corrected.
Nesta’s fiery glare turned to him and he withered as she snapped, “Whose side are you on?”
It was Nesta’s first time being at Cassian’s game. Of course, she’d seen his games on TV before, but both of them had agreed that she should wait before attending a game and being in the presence of all his fans and the media. Now that they had been officially dating for over a year, they’d both felt it was time. Nesta’s best friends, Gwyn and Emerie, had decided to accompany her. They had both claimed that they just wanted to watch the game, but she knew that they really were there to provide her with moral support.
Sadly, Cassian’s team — the Velaris Ghost Leopards — was currently losing 4-2 to the Adriata Sirens. Nesta, who never followed ice hockey closely until meeting Cassian, had been yelling up a storm as passionately as any long-time die-hard Ghost Leopards fan. They were about halfway through the third period and any hope that the Ghost Leopards could win was slowly disappearing. Especially as Jurian Zbirak, the Sirens’ center, passed discreetly to Varian Ulwandle, the left winger who was famously good at scoring.
“I can’t watch,” Gwyn grimaced as Varian got past the Ghost Leopards’ defenceman, Andras Lupo. The crowd held their breath as Varian took the shot and-
“Saved!” Emerie yelled as Rhysand let out a whoop.
Thesan Vu, the Ghost Leopards’ goalie, had managed to save it beautifully.
Nesta gasped loudly as Kallias Neve, the Ghost Leopards’ center, took the puck and skated forward. Unfortunately, the other team’s defense was extremely strong, and caught sight of him almost immediately. Kallias cut sharply to the left, but the defenseman Eris Vanserra quickly shifted positions to block him.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta chanted. Emerie was biting her nails anxiously next to her and Azriel was covering his mouth with his hands.
Kallias tried to deke Eris by feigning left and then cutting right, but Eris had seen through his tricks and was about to steal the puck when-
Nesta jumped out of her seat. “Look!”
Kallias had managed to trick Eris after all. He’d drop passed the puck to Cassian, who was now zooming towards the goal. By the time Eris and Devlon Lyons, the other Sirens defenseman, realized and headed for Cassian, it was already too late.
Nesta held her breath as Cassian got into position, took the shot and-
“He scored!” Nesta cheered at the top of her lungs.
Her throat was definitely going to be sore tomorrow but she didn’t even care.
She watched as Cassian lit up with glee and his teammates congratulated him. This was why she cheered so hard, why she cared so much about the sport. It wasn’t as though she’d magically become obsessed with ice hockey when she’d met Cassian. No, it was the joy that the sport brought him and the way he put his heart and soul into it — giving it his all at every game, every training, every play — that made her passionate about it. Cassian worked so incredibly hard at hockey and it was such a big part of his life. How could something so important to him not be important to her, too?
Cassian’s eyes locked on hers. Nesta froze.
He brought his left hand to his lips and blew her a kiss.
The crowd went wild as Cassian’s fans assumed he’d blown it to them. But Nesta could only sit down, dazed. She didn’t know why she felt so shocked that her boyfriend had blown her a kiss. They’d done far more than kiss, for gods’ sake. Perhaps it was because it had been in front of everyone, like Cassian was declaring his affection for her publicly and showing that he wasn’t ashamed of being with her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d thought of her in the middle of a game, as though he never stopped thinking about her, even when he was singularly focused on ice hockey.
Emerie elbowed Nesta in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Your face is red, you know.”
“Shut up,” was Nesta’s dignified response.
With five minutes left in the period, the Sirens held control of the puck.
“Are they just wasting time, trying to run out the clock?” Nesta huffed. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”
Drakon Aliyev — the Sirens’ right winger — kept passing back and forth with the Jurian and Varian, barely moving forward.
“C’mon!” Rhysand jeered.
Suddenly, with thirty seconds left on the clock, Jurian sped forward. He weaved between Ghost Leopards’ players, dodging and deking them.
Twenty seconds.
Andras closed in on Jurian, but Jurian back passed to Drakon right before Andras caught up to him. Drakon skated past them, zigzagging to avoid the other players who attempted to catch up to him.
Ten seconds.
As Lucien — the Ghost Leopards’ other defenseman — moved in to body-check him, Drakon made eye contact with Varian, who had skated forward and was completely open. Drakon turned towards Varian, leaning his left shoulder down to pass to him.
Five seconds.
Lucien shifted to guard Drakon’s right side, blocking him from passing to Varian.
Four.
Drakon turned his hockey stick, which was on the left of the puck, to position it behind the puck, and aimed at the goal. Lucien scrambled to move back to his previous position in front of Drakon.
Three.
Drakon’s stick hit the puck, taking a strong shot. It flew through the middle of Lucien’s legs, headed straight towards the goal.
Two.
Thesan shifted his stick and crouched down, moving into position to block the puck.
One.
The puck landed on the ice a hair’s breadth in front of Thesan and slid through the small gap between his stick and his foot, straight into the goal.
Zero.
The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts.
Nesta was chief among them. “What? That’s crazy! The puck was not completely over the line before the buzzer! Why the fuck are they counting it?”
“It actually was,” Rhysand replied. “Wasn’t it an amazing buzzer beater, Az?”
Nesta was fuming. “What? Were you even watching the game? About a third of the puck hadn’t crossed the line! Don’t you agree, Az?”
Az looked between them with wide eyes and then wisely chose to say, “Hey, why don’t we try to go catch Cassian before he has to go to the changing room?”
Nesta was still grumbling as they walked up to where Cassian was talking to his teammates.
Azriel tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around, his disappointed frown turning into a friendly smile. Then, his eyes landed on Nesta and his expression softened.
Nesta peered up at him and sent him a small smile. But a second later, she resumed her muttering, hissing under her breath, “I can’t fucking believe the refs don’t give a shit about the Sirens’ blatant cheating.”
Rhysand, who was standing right next to Nesta, groaned loudly. Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “This one,” Rhys began, tilting his head towards Nesta, “hasn’t stopped complaining about the Sirens and the refs.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “They didn’t fucking cheat, Nesta. They won. Just accept it and move on.” He turned to Cassian with a glance that said ‘urg, can you believe her?’
Unfortunately for Rhysand, he was not met with the sympathetic backup he’d anticipated from Cassian. Instead, Cassian’s face split into a huge grin that only widened when Nesta retorted, “Well, it’s true! I swear the puck wasn’t fully over the line when I heard the buzzer. The refs were definitely biased, because they called the Ghost Leopards’ offsides in period 1 but not any of the Sirens’ fouls!”
He let out a breathy laugh as wonder and joy lit up his eyes. He enveloped Nesta with his arms, burying his smile in her hair.
Time froze.
Their eyes closed like camera shutters as they stood still, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. They were both silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions.
An eternity later, Cassian broke the silence, whispering “Thank you” into Nesta’s neck. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss against her cheek.
__________
Present day
“You know, it meant the world to me to see that you defended me so fiercely.” Cassian’s tone was sincere but still light, as one could only be with those whom they’d been vulnerable with many times before. “To know that you cared so much about me… well. It’s not like no one cared about me before, you know, obviously I had Rhys and Az and stuff, but I still struggled with really believing that people could care about me — that I could matter to people. That moment… Of course it didn’t completely ‘fix’ me,” Cassian made air quotes with his fingers, “but I think that’s when it really clicked and I realized that you felt the same way about me that I felt about you — that I mattered to you, too.”
Nesta swallowed, realizing that she was choking up, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. The closest she usually got to crying was when she read about fictional characters, and even then she almost never felt tears welling up as they were now.
“I love you,” Nesta answered quietly. It was the truth, plain and simple. “You matter to me, and you always have.”
“I love you too,” Cassian answered. His hand reached out to cover hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
A moment later, he pointed to another polaroid in the bottom row.
“This one was next, right?”
“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes twinkling as she reminisced. “Those views were so worth it, but damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and sore.”
Cassian smirked. “Oh really? Not even-”
“Nope,” Nesta interrupted with a smirk of her own.
Cassian blinked, as though her reply had genuinely shocked him. Once he recovered, he answered, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”
He winked.
Nesta rolled her eyes, but brought a hand to cheek to cover what she assumed was her rather obvious blush.
__________
Four years ago
“Are you sure you don’t need to drink more water?” Cassian asked again.
“Yes, Cassian, I’m just as sure as I was when you asked me two seconds ago,” Nesta replied, a small smile on her lips despite her slight irritation at his repetitive questioning. Nesta would never in a million years admit that she liked Cassian’s coddling, but in truth she did enjoy knowing how much he cared.
They’d decided to get away from the city for a week to go on the backpacking trip they’d been talking about for months now. Miraculously, Cassian’s off-season had aligned perfectly with Nesta’s and they intended to make full use of it.
Initially, they had considered inviting some of their friends and family to join them on a hike to a different location, but after Nesta’s argument with Rhysand over reproductive freedoms dissolved into an intense shouting match with personal attacks, Cassian had decided to limit the trip to just the two of them. He’d hoped to give them some space from each other to help them cool off.
There was also an additional reason he had decided not to invite anyone else — most notably Rhysand — that he hadn’t told Nesta. The day after the row, Cassian had gone to see Rhysand, hoping to help clear the air. Instead of being regretful and guilty, Rhysand had been stubborn, claiming that Nesta was the only one who needed to apologize. He called Nesta a “vicious bitch”, saying that he didn’t know why Cassian would want to be with such a “fucked up person who clearly had way too many issues” and “only wanted Cassian for the money and fame”. When he laughed, “The sex must be really good for you to put up with her,” spitting out the last word as though Nesta was the scum of the Earth who wasn’t even worthy of being named by Rhysand, Cassian had exploded.
He’d completely lost it, snarling and hurling insults at Rhys. He’d yelled that Rhys was clearly so insecure that he couldn’t accept when he was wrong and had to tear others down to try to fix his fragile ego.
“Maybe you want to pretend you’re perfect because you don’t know how to love people, flaws and all,” Cassian had hissed. “So yeah, Nesta might have some ‘issues’ but so do I. And guess what? That’s fine. We still care about each other, for real. Unlike you, we don’t feel the need to lie about who we are. At least our relationship is real and is based on honesty and truth.”
It had been a low blow, to allude to his previous relationships. Rhys had dated Amarantha, a wealthy actress and politician’s daughter, at his parents’ request back when Rhys’ dad, Hadrian, was still running the conglomerate called Night Court Corporations which was later passed down to Rhys. This had been both a PR stunt, which showed rivals just how strong and influential their family was and distracted the media from Ayla’s underage drunk driving, and a way to gain Amarantha’s father’s support in giving Night Court Corporations a tax break. Their relationship had been faker than Amarantha’s tan.
His only real relationship before Feyre had been with Carmella, a girl who worked at a coffee shop he used to frequent, although calling it ‘real’ was a stretch, as Rhysand had lied to her about his family and his past. They had dated for almost a year, and Az and Cassian had met the poor girl numerous times, but Rhysand had insisted that he would keep being ‘Reese, son of an office worker’ when he was with her in order to avoid ‘getting used’.
So yes, the comment had been mean and Cassian had felt slightly guilty about it, despite it being true.
But then, Rhys had retorted, “Real? Please, Cassian, I can’t believe that you can’t see through her! She doesn’t ‘care about you’ or whatever, she only cares about the money, just like everybody else like her!”
Cassian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d slowly bit out, “Like her? What do you mean by that?”
His eyes had flashed with rage and pain, because he’d known exactly what Rhysand meant.
His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys’ expression had twitched. He’d meant people who weren’t as famous, as well-to-do, as wealthy. People who didn’t have a trust fund or a summer house or extra cars. People who couldn’t take vacations or make big purchases without saving up first. People who couldn’t say ‘money isn’t a problem’. People like Nesta who had to have side jobs in addition to their main one just to be able to afford rent in a city like Velaris. And people like Cassian, for whom even food and housing and safety had never been a guarantee, let alone new clothing or vacations.
Rhysand had just implied that Cassian had never cared about Rhysand or Shirina or Ayla or Hadrian. That Cassian had only been with them for the money and that all the love he had for them was fake.
Rhysand stayed silent.
Cassian repeated, “What do you mean, Rhys?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t about- I’m just trying to help you! She doesn’t actually care.” At Cassian’s murderous glare, he amended, “And even if she does, she doesn’t deserve you! I’m just trying to rescue you, man.”
“Rescue me?” Cassian laughed, coldly. “I’m not some semi-homeless kid anymore. I don’t need a fucking hero to save me. Maybe you want to think I’m some helpless victim because you can’t stand the fact that I’m finally happy and I don’t need you anymore. How are you going to feed your savior complex now?”
Rhysand scoffed, glaring down at him as though Cassian were a peasant and he were a god. It only served to fuel the cold flames of Cassian’s anger.
“Or maybe you don’t like that I’m succeeding,” Cassian said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “You don’t like that I’m rich and famous and I did it all on my own. I worked hard and got here and I’m only gonna keep rising. Who are you gonna look down at now to remind yourself just what a special little boy you are?”
Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Rich? Please, Cassian, you’re doing okay, but you could never be as rich as me. And all on your own? Need I remind you that I gave you a house and food and clothes? I paid for your hockey gear and for chauffeurs to drive you to games. You worked hard, sure, but so did I. We’re the same, so stop trying to act like you’re any better than me.”
“Aww, did I hurt your fragile little ego?” Cassian pouted mockingly. “You know that you didn’t do any of that, right? Shirina and Hadrian paid for all those things. And yes, they helped me, but at least I got my job because of skill and hard work. You got yours because you were born a boy. We’re not the same and we’ll never be.”
“You’re right,” Rhysand replied coolly. “We’re not the same. I don’t know why I ever bothered to pretend otherwise.”
Cassian had stormed out, tossing a “By the way, it’s called a taxi, not a chauffeur!” over his shoulder as he exited.
Admittedly, it had not been his best comeback.
After that incident, Cassian had decided not to speak to Rhys for a while, let alone invite him on any trips.
As they hiked up the hilly landscape, Cassian was grateful he’d decided to spend this time alone with Nesta instead. Somehow, the whole trip felt so much more meaningful with her by his side, like this was a glimpse at the life they were building together.
“Gods, my legs are definitely going to hurt after today,” Nesta mumbled as they hiked up an especially steep section.
“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break- or should I carry you?” Cassian hurriedly replied.
Nesta just laughed, staring pointedly at his backpack. “Literally how?”
Cassian gestured to his front. “You doubt my strength?”
“Yes,” Nesta teased, sticking her tongue out at him before speed walking ahead.
“Wait up!”
Each night, they shared a tent. Despite starting out in sleeping bags on separate mattress pads, they always ended up cuddling together, supposedly for warmth. A couple nights in, Nesta figured out how to zip their sleeping bags together to create a single larger sleeping bag, whispering “Oh no, there’s only one bed!” as she did so.
Every morning, Cassian would wake Nesta up with a kiss to her cheek. She’d always scrunch her face and groggily mutter, “No, don’t do that, I’m disgusting.”
“You could never be disgusting, sweetheart,” Cassian would reply, prompting Nesta to open her eyes only to roll them at him.
When they finally arrived at Windhaven Overlook, their destination, they spent a day admiring the views and having a small picnic.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Nesta said, resting her head on Cassian’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’d want to share this with me.”
Cassian kissed her forehead in response.
He had been to this spot only twice before, but it was still one of the most important locations for him.
The first time, Enalius had brought him here. Enalius was a man close to Cassian’s heart. They’d first met when Enalius approached Cassian, whose face was glued to a window, watching an ice hockey team practice. Cassian had snuck into the skating rink for warmth and to use the vending machines and the water fountains, but had let his guard down, enthralled by the skaters.
“Are you spying on them?” were the first words out of Enalius’ mouth.
“What? NO!” Cassian had tried to run, but Enalius clasped his shoulder with a strong arm.
“Really? What team do you play for?”
“I don’t play hockey!”
At that, Enalius had frowned. “Really? That’s a shame. I think you might be good at it. Why don’t you ask your parents to sign you up for a class sometime?”
Cassian’s eyes had dropped to the floor. “No, that’s okay.”
“C’mon, now,” Enalius had tried again. “I’m sure you could be better than those boys in no time.”
“I’ve never even skated before.”
Enalius raised an eyebrow as Cassian furiously backtracked, realizing that he’d basically admitted he’d snuck in.
“Uh, I mean, I’ve never skated in, uh, hockey rinks with, uh-”
Enalius smiled. “Don’t worry, kid.” He looked Cassian up and down once more and sighed, “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? You’ll never know what it’s like until you give it a go.”
Cassian shrugged.
“Well, if you ever think you want to, just tell the lady at the counter over there that Enalius Ramiel told you to sign up for a lesson with him, okay? And get your parents to sign all the release forms and stuff.”
“Oh, they, uh, can’t do that.”
Enalius cocked his head. “Should I talk to them? Don’t worry, lessons aren’t actually that expensive, and I’ll give you a little discount.”
“No, um, you can’t talk to them,” Cassian mumbled uncomfortably.
Enalius took a step back. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to pressure you. Lemme know if you ever want me to talk to your parents or anything.”
As Enalius started to turn around, Cassian was suddenly caught by a panic and blurted, “You can’t talk to them ’cause they’re dead.”
Enalius froze.
“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I see.”
He studied Cassian’s face for a moment and then grabbed his hand, power-walking towards the check-in counter. They cut to the front of a long line of people as Enalius flashed a badge.
“Hey, Val, can we book rink 3 for a private lesson?” Enalius asked the lady at the counter with a grin.
“Sure, when do you want to schedule it for?”
“Now.”
Val raised her eyebrows. “Now? Are you joking?”
Enalius shook his head.
Val just sighed. “Fine, but I don’t think the ice has been refreshed in a while. Also, it’s booked after 5:30, so you’ve got a little less than an hour.”
“Thanks, Val, you’re the best.” Then, he turned to Cassian. “What size are your feet?”
“Um… 6?” Cassian guessed, rounding up a size from his current too-small sneakers.
“A pair of size 6 hockey skate rentals, too,” Enalius added. “Put it all on my tab.”
Then, he leaned in to whisper something Cassian couldn’t hear, which made Val sigh, “Oh, Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The next hour had changed Cassian's life. He’d started out wobbling, barely staying vertical and walking instead of skating on the ice. By the end, he was gliding effortlessly, skating around and in between the cones Enalius set up. He fell in love with ice skating.
So Cassian returned, day after day, getting free private lessons from Enalius, and he soon became enamored by ice hockey, too.
Enalius became Cassian’s mentor, not only teaching him hockey but also buying Cassian snacks or dinner and making sure he got back safely. It was Enalius who later introduced Shirina, his childhood friend, to Cassian, further changing his life.
It wasn’t until much later that Cassian learned what a famous and successful hockey player Enalius was. Enalius remained Cassian’s coach right until he joined the NHL himself.
There were few people who were as important to Cassian as Enalius. And that was why this place that Enalius had brought him to years ago was so special to Cassian.
Shirina, Hadrian, Rhysand, and Ayla had decided to go abroad and travel alongside some cousins during fall break. Enalius had overheard Shirina hesitating about leaving Cassian home alone for the week and had offered to take him on a trip of their own. Cassian, who had never been on a trip as far as he was aware of, was ecstatic and it did not disappoint. It became one of Cassian’s best memories.
The second time he came to this spot was after Shirina’s death. Rhysand and Ayla had been inconsolable, each grieving in their own way: Rhysand never spent a moment alone, as though he could bury his feelings in the high of socializing and parties, while Ayla barely spoke or even left her room. Hadrian was trying his best to keep it together, but was clearly in way over his head — managing the children and their emotions had always been Shirina’s department, not his. Luckily, their extended family had flown into town to help them all. Friends and acquaintances had reached out, trying to find ways to support them through all the grief.
Cassian, who couldn’t really be classified as a friend or family to Shirina, had been overlooked. It wasn’t like he expected anything different, but watching everyone comforting each other and ignoring him hurt. It was as though he had no right to grieve — to be this hurt by her death — and maybe he didn’t, but she had been the closest thing he’d had to a parent since he’d been 5 years old. He’d loved her, too. No, he wasn’t her child, but he was something to her, even if it couldn’t be labeled so easily.
Now she was gone and whatever they had been was erased. It didn’t matter that he’d used his first paycheck to buy her a birthday present, or that she had attended all his home NHL games, or that they’d often go on walks together. It didn’t matter that she always knew when he needed a hug or that she’d taught him how to cook.
Cassian had decided to hike to Windhaven Overpass to get out of his own head.
The journey had helped him to process his emotions. The sunsets and the plant life around him had seemed far more beautiful that time, reminding him of how much Shirina had loved nature. At night, the stars seemed brighter than normal, and he recalled Shirina explaining to him that in her culture, stars were considered to be ancestral and guardian spirits looking down at you and guiding you.
Cassian felt like Shirina had been there, watching him from the sky and reaching out with a comforting hand as he struggled. That trip, he had gotten angry and laughed joylessly and sobbed. He’d felt empty and about to explode at the same time. He had gotten to be something different from the strong, smiling version of himself that he usually presented to the public. In the end, the trip had helped him find some sort of closure and peace with Shirina’s death.
Now, Cassian had brought Nesta here.
He had told her about his prior trips with Windhaven and what the location meant to him, but actually bringing her here was a sign that Cassian was willing to be vulnerable with her.
He had always feared people would leave him and that he was replaceable, and worried about tainting such a special place with memories of someone who would later leave his life.
And yet, Cassian had brought her here.
“This spot is important to me, Nes, and so are you,” Cassian said. “Thank you for coming. It’s my honor to be here, with you.”
He didn’t say: ‘I’m not worried about bringing you here because what we have is different — it’s meant to last.’
He didn’t say: ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about enough to let myself be vulnerable like this with — you could destroy me, but I’m willing to take that chance.’
He didn’t say: ‘I love you.’
And yet, that was what they both heard.
__________
Present day
“I knew you were in love with me the second you invited me on that trip,” Nesta smirked.
“Sweetheart, I was gone for you way before then,” Cassian laughed.
“That’s true,” she grinned. “You had an embarrassingly massive crush on me for the longest time. And you must’ve loved me a whole lot to let me get away with making Rhys grovel like that.”
“First of all, get your facts straight: I still have an embarrassingly massive crush on you,” he replied. “And secondly, well, Rhys deserved it and also it was really entertaining to watch.”
The day after they’d gotten back, Rhysand had sent Cassian and Nesta a long message, asking them to meet up so that he could apologize in person. Nesta decided that they should talk to Rhys separately.
Cassian went first. Rhys apologized profusely for all the names he’d called Nesta, for all the things he’d implied about Cassian, and for all the insults. Cassian in turn apologized for his part, and the two of them had a chat in which Rhys admitted that he’d acted like an entitled prick and that he was genuinely sorry. They made up and quickly forgave each other, like the pseudo-brothers they were.
Nesta and Rhysand were an altogether different story. Rhysand apologized to her as well, but she answered that while she accepted his apology, she could not forgive him so easily.
She understood that he didn’t like her, and that was his right, but she also felt that he couldn’t try to make claims about her character when he barely knew her. She told him that she was perfectly fine with having a tepid relationship with him where they would only speak when strictly necessary or that they could try to get to know each other better. Rhysand went with the second option. From there, they went on to have many long discussions. Once they’d gotten a bit closer, Nesta returned to their original point of contention: reproductive freedoms. She made Rhys listen to podcasts and read articles and watch videos about what reproductive freedom really was and why it was so important. “You don’t have to change your opinion,” she’d said, over and over. “You just need to be informed before you try to make claims about what others should or shouldn’t do with their bodies and their lives.”
It was only months later that Nesta finally stopped putting him through the wringer and told him that she’d forgiven him.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Cass. It definitely was all for your entertainment, no other reason at all for us to argue,” Nesta replied dryly.
Her eyes drifted to the polaroid in the bottom right corner. “Now that,” she pointed, “that was entertainment. What a show!” She licked her lips and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly.
“It was completely staged, of course,” Cassian joked. “The whole thing was just for your pleasure.”
Nesta raised an eyebrow. “My ‘pleasure’?”
“My, my, what a dirty mind you have, Nesta!” Cassian fake-gasped. “A proper gentleman would never imply something so improper to a lady like yourself.”
“A proper gentleman? Where?” she retorted without missing a beat.
He clutched his chest. “You wound me, m’lady.” He shook his head. “And to think, I was your knight in shining armor that day…”
“More like knight in very little armor.”
__________
Three years ago
Plunk.
They watched, immobilized by shock, as the necklace drifted below the water’s surface.
It fell slowly, until it became only a vague shadow in the water.
“Nesta?” “Nesta, are you ok?”
Voices faded in and out of Nesta’s awareness. She tried to force herself to smile, to nod that she was completely, totally fine. Unfortunately, she seemed to have lost the ability to control her body.
It was so, so stupid. She’d been having such a wonderful day. And now, she’d ruined it.
Cassian and Azriel had prepared a group trip to Ravennia Park, complete with a lovely picnic lunch in the field of blooming daffodils. Cassian had even made sure to include all her favorite foods in the lunch. Afterward, they walked around the park, stopping occasionally to take pictures or listen to birds.
They had stopped on this small bridge so that Feyre could take pictures of the glistening lake and the paddling of ducks that had just entered the water. Nesta had leaned over the railing, chatting with Cassian as she watched the colorful koi fish swim.
Her necklace had snapped suddenly, tumbling into the water before anyone could react.
Her silver necklace, which her father had given her for her eighth birthday, disappeared under the surface of the lake. Gone, just like her middle school best friend, Clare Beddor, who had drowned herself in a pool. Gone, just like her father.
Until her mother got sick, Nesta had had an amazing relationship with her father. She would sit next to him, listening intently as he explained how trading and shipbuilding worked. She was always the one to run and open the door when he came home from work, enveloping him in a hug. She loved it when he read her bedtime stories and watched her dance around the living room.
Then, everything changed. Her illusion that he could do no wrong broke when her mother told her that the reason she wasn’t getting better from her illness was that they couldn’t afford good doctors and medicine since her father had lost his job. After that, Nesta’s resentment only grew as the misfortunes piled up. Her mother died and they couldn’t afford the funeral that she’d wanted. Her sisters had to change schools. They moved into a smaller house, with a bedroom that all three sisters shared. They struggled to put food on the table.
When her father decided to sell art instead of looking for another job, saying he couldn’t rely on others to give him work, Nesta fumed. How could he sit there, carving wood and drinking beer, while Feyre worked overtime at her job in addition to school and she and Elain did all the cooking and cleaning? Nesta had vowed to leave as soon as she could, and, it turned out, that ballet allowed her to leave the nest sooner than expected.
Still, she’d felt guilty leaving her sisters to fend for themselves in that house, and then felt even angrier at her father for not taking care of them and putting Nesta in a position where she felt guilty for following her dreams.
Suffice to say, Nesta had a difficult relationship with him — one that was made all the more complex when he died of a sudden heart attack.
It had taken Nesta a long time to process and make peace with his death.
She’d decided to wear the necklace her father had given her today, in honor of his birthday. Once upon a time, she had worn this necklace all the time, showing off the token of her father’s affection. By putting it back on, she felt like she was healing a teenage Nesta, who had violently taken off her necklace at her mother’s funeral and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table.
And now, it was lost forever.
“Nesta?”
Cassian’s voice cut through her haze and she lifted her eyes to see his worried expression. He brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it softly. It grounded her, bringing her back to the present, but she didn’t react — couldn’t react — more than just blinking at him dazedly.
Cassian took a deep breath. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and removed it in one smooth motion, his pants quickly following suit. Before Nesta could process what was happening, he climbed over the railing and plunged into the lake.
Nesta could only cling to the railing, shocked silent for a new reason as she waited, praying to all the gods she barely believed in that his head would emerge from the water.
She tried to dispel all the fears that swam around in her mind, taunting her about the dangers of the lake. The water plants that could ensnare even experienced swimmers’ feet and drown them, the animals that could bite and eat him, the sharp rocks that could injure him, the current that could pull him under — the possibilities were endless.
Cassian’s head emerged from the water and she felt her heart unclench, just for a second, until he disappeared once more.
This jerked Nesta out of her stupor.
“Cassian,” she called out. “Cass! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! ” Her voice grew increasingly panicked as there was no response.
“It’s dangerous, are you insane? Cassian? Cassian!”
Her shouts only stopped when Cassian surfaced. His broad shoulders and defined abs glistened in the sunlight as drops of water rolled down his chest. The bun his hair had been in had come upon, and now his dark, wavy-curly mane was streaming down his back. His brown skin was slick with water and drops clung to his long eyelashes. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing that he looked exactly how she’d imagined a merman to be.
Her lips parted as he stepped out of the water. She forced her eyes away from his soaking wet underwear that clung to his body, defining every inch of it. Her gaze fixed on his chest instead. She knew she should be focusing on Cassian’s face or the necklace in his hand but he was so fucking distracting. Soaked Cassian was criminally delectable.
“Nesta?”
Cassian’s voice was worried, probably since Nesta still wasn’t speaking.
“Nes,” he whispered, gently tilting her head upwards with a finger under her chin.
Their eyes met. Cassian’s concern was wiped off his face and was instantly replaced by a smirk.
“Lost your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased.
Though she had indeed lost the ability to speak, she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. No, she would play his game and beat him at it.
She licked her lips slowly. She tilted her head back to expose the column of her throat while she swallowed sharply, knowing how it drove him crazy. Cassian made a low noise in the back of his throat, as though he was trying and failing to suppress a groan. Then, he put his arms on her shoulders, turning her around.
“Lift up your hair,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers across her body.
She did as he requested. He put the necklace back on her neck, patiently working the tiny clasp. His fingers brushed her neck, and even the cold silver of the necklace couldn’t cool the heat that spread within her. When the necklace was securely fastened, she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck.
She took a moment to look deep within his eyes.
She would have to yell at him later for risking his life for a piece of jewelry, but nonetheless she appreciated what he had done. He was one of the only people who knew that she had a fear of deep water due to its association with Clare, and was also the only person who knew what putting this necklace back on meant for her. Yes, it was only a necklace, but he had also saved her from reopening the wounds of her complex relationship with her father and her past self.
So she kissed him, knowing he would understand every conflicting thought and emotion that she pressed against his lips. And when his hand came up to support her neck, she knew that he was answering ‘I’m here for you, always.’
__________
Present day
“I knew you were objectifying me,” Cassian pouted mockingly.
Nesta nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’re nothing but a sexy hunk to me.”
She leaned closer to him. “That’s why I said I love you first.” She tapped the picture in the top left corner.
Cassian rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”
Nesta hummed as though she were seriously contemplating the issue. “How about… forever?”
Cassian’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twisted around, as though he were trying to hold back a grin.
“Urg, fine,” he said. His attempt to appear annoyed failed completely as he sounded more amused than anything else. “As long as you know I loved you first.”
It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, despite knowing that he was likely correct. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
__________
Three years ago
It was the final match of the Alfheim Ice Hockey Championships. If the Velaris Ghost Leopards managed to beat the Hybern Hydras, they would win the Fionn Cup for the first time in history.
The game was extremely close, with both teams tied at 2-2, though not for lack of trying. The Hydras were playing atrociously dirty by anyone’s standards. They had already received numerous green and yellow cards, but it didn’t seem to deter them from continuing to foul the Ghost Leopards.
Nesta cheered as Andras blocked Keir Hewn’s attack. Lucien swept in, stealing the puck from Keir, and passed it across the ice to Cassian. Cassian bluffed and wove his way through the Hydras’ defensemen.
“C’mon, Cass, c’mon,” she chanted, her hands clasped together.
Beron Falls raced to block Cassian, but Cassian passed the puck to Kallias just in time. Kallias dribbled the puck expertly.
“Please, Kallias, make this shot,” Rhys implored from the seat behind Nesta’s.
Kallias skated towards the goals, and lifted his stick to shoot.
Then, the ice erupted in shouts, the umpire blowing the whistle continuously.
“What just happened?” Gwyn asked but no one had an answer to give her. Nesta just sighed, dropping her face into her hands until she felt Elain tugging at her shoulder. Her eyes followed Elain’s pointed finger to see the jumbotron showing a replay. Andrew Amaranth, the Hydras’ left winger, had come up to Kallias from behind. He grabbed his stick and kicked the back of his calf with the blade of his skates, causing Kallias to fall.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Nesta shouted.
“He’s actually unhinged,” Azriel agreed.
The umpire called for a yellow and a ten-minute time out.
“It should be a red card,” Gwyn hissed and Nesta loudly agreed.
The game continued in such a fashion, with the Hydras playing as dirty as possible without getting red cards.
The game was still tied with five minutes remaining in the third period.
“We can’t go into overtime,” Azriel muttered to himself, “All our players are getting tired and they’re bound to actually get injured from these fouls.”
“Better overtime than a loss,” Rhys replied.
Nesta looked down at her hands. Her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of this game.
Winning the Fionn Cup was a lifelong dream of Cassian’s. He had worked hard for this. He’d given his life to this sport for years, training every day for hours on end, no matter how tired he was. He studied strategy, honed his body, and worked with his team to figure out how to play into everyone’s individual strengths.
But it was more than that.
In many ways, the sport had also saved Cassian. It had given him direction and a sense of purpose at a time when he’d felt lost. It had given him a team, when he’d only ever felt alone. It had provided him an alternative to the path he’d thought he was destined for — a path that led to nothing but more despair, where he would just get by, numbly passing through every day and surviving by the skin of his teeth. Ice hockey had opened up a whole new world for him and allowed him to dream of a different future for himself. It had given him hope, showing him a way out of the cycle of sadness that he’d imagined he would be trapped in forever.
The world had once branded him as useless, as broken, as less than nothing. As he was tossed around from foster home to foster home, sleeping on the street among the trash, the word worthless sank deeper and deeper into his skin.
Ice hockey was the hand that had reached out and pulled him to his feet, getting him off the ground, out of the shadows and the litter and the endless despair. It had dusted him off and pulled him into the light, where he could get warm and grow and sparkle as he was meant to.
Now, Nesta wanted the world to acknowledge that Cassian was a champion. She wanted the world to know they’d been wrong to ever dismiss him as anything less than magnificent. She wanted him to win the Fionn Cup and stand proudly in the spotlight, knowing the world now looked up to him. More than anything, she wanted him to know that he was worthy, that he was precious, that he was important.
“Oh, fuck, yes!” Azriel shouted. Nesta would have raised an eyebrow at him — the ever-brooding, silent and mysterious Azriel — shouting so enthusiastically, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the game.
Kallias had stolen the puck from Dagdan Maeve and was racing towards the goal. Just as he crossed the center line, the Hydra’s defensemen, Beron and Nolan, closed in on him. Nesta watched as Kallias attempted to fake them out, then made a sharp turn to get away from them, all to no avail. Beron finally caught up to him and moved to steal the puck. With Nolan guarding Kallias’ other side, there was nowhere for him to move, no space for him to pass.
“Oh, I can’t watch,” Rhys hissed, wincing.
Nesta pressed her lips together, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the puck disappeared. Kallias had somehow managed to pass it through the narrow gap between Beron and Nolan’s sticks and had hit the puck with such strength that neither of them could move to stop it in time. Cassian received the pass and skated towards the goal. Beron, Nolan, and even some of the forwards moved to stop him, but Nesta knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Not when Cassian was speeding forward, moving like the wind as he skated across the ice.
Nesta leaned forward in her seat as a feeling swelled up inside her. It was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, hope, fear, pride, and something else — something that made her feel like her heart was in her throat and made her pray that Cassian would score but know she would be there by his side no matter what happened. She had been feeling it for so long now, but had never voiced it — never put words to the feeling for fear that it would shatter the precious thing they’d built. But now Nesta knew it wasn’t something that could be so easily destroyed. No, it didn’t matter if Cassian won or lost, or even got injured. It didn’t matter if Cassian got traded to a team in a different city or Nesta had to switch ballet companies. No matter what, through the ups and the downs, they would be there for each other, helping to shoulder the emotional load.
As Cassian's hockey stick hit the puck, Nesta wondered why she had been waiting so long when it was so clear what this feeling was. If she was being honest, she’d known it when Cassian dove into the water for her necklace, had known it when he’d brought her to Windhaven, had known it even the first time she’d sat in these seats, cheering Cassian on as he played.
Cassian’s love was loud. It was in the romantic dates he planned, the surprises and gifts and hugs he showered her with, the weekends when he could sleep in but woke up anyway to make her pancakes. No, he hadn’t said the words either, but his protective arm around her during dinner with his friends and the vulnerable look in his eyes as he prepared a fusion meal that combined their cultural cuisines said all that was needed.
Nesta’s love was quiet. It was in the fridge restocked with Cassian’s favorite foods, the ways she tended to his injuries after a match, and carefully planned meaningful gifts for his birthday. No, she hadn’t said the words, but she knew that he knew how she felt.
But now, as the puck flew towards the goal, Nesta wanted to love just as boldly as Cassian. She wanted to show the world how lucky she was to be with him, but more importantly, she wanted Cassian to feel how much she cared about him. She wanted him to know that she was proud to be his. For him, she’d shout their love from the rooftops. She’d give him the whole universe if she could, because the world had been so unkind to him and yet he’d still managed to become the most incredible person in it. She could only offer him her heart, however, and hope that he would find it worthy of keeping.
The puck grazed the goalie’s glove and Nesta held her breath. The goalie stretched out his fingers to grab it but it flew past him.
“GOAL!”
The entire stadium erupted into screams. Cheers of pure joy came from the Ghost Leopards’ side, louder than ever before. Nesta watched as Gwyn, Azriel, Elain, and Rhys jumped up and hugged each other.
Nesta could only stand up in silence, too consumed with her feelings to utter a single sound. For what sound could encapsulate this all-encompassing joy and pride? She looked down at the rink. Cassian’s teammates were all piled up around him in a massive group hug. And in the middle of it all, Cassian was there, beaming. His eyes lifted and met hers. She was grinning, wider than ever before in her life, and lifted her hands to make a heart.
Cassian’s eyes turned huge. He took a deep breath.
Perhaps he would have responded in kind, but he was obstructed from Nesta’s view as another teammate jumped to hug him and then the coach yelled at them that the game was restarting. Cassian shot Nesta one last, loaded glance before skating back to his position.
It was all a blur after that. The last few minutes of the match passed without any change. Both teams’ offenses and defenses were equally matched, and the puck passed between them with no chances to score. When the buzzer rang out, everyone sprung to their feet.
Nesta cheered, not giving a shit that her voice would be hoarse the next day with how loudly she was screaming. Azriel was jumping up and down like a child — she’d never seen him so overtly joyous. Rhys had tears of joy pouring down his cheeks. Gwyn and Elain were hugging.
After the awards ceremony, all the interviews, and a rowdy celebration with the team, Cassian finally joined them.
The second they caught sight of him, they rushed towards him. All five of them reached him at the same time and jumped on him, crushing him as they hugged him and showered him with compliments and congratulations.
Cassian laughed boisterously.
“I can’t believe it! I’m friends with a Fionn Cup Champion,” Gwyn gushed.
“Oh, so now we’re friends?” Cassian teased.
Gwyn answered with a playful shove that pushed Cassian back toward Azriel. Az wrapped his arms around Cassian, trapping him.
He pressed a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head as the latter squirmed.
“Sorry Nes, I’m keeping him,” Azriel joked, tightening his grip as Cassian tried to shake him off.
“Take him,” Nesta grinned. “He snores.”
“I do not!”
Cassian’s protest went ignored.
“Hmm,” Azriel pretended to muse. “But then I could have a real-life Fionn Cup Champion in my room. The price of the noise-canceling headphones will be worth it.”
Nesta shrugged. “I’d be surprised if he fit through your door, now that his ego is going to get even bigger.”
“True, true. I’d hate for his massive head to break my roof.”
“Hello? I thought you’re supposed to be nice to Fionn Cup winners,” Cassian pouted.
Gwyn laughed. “Nice? Cassian, it’s like you don’t even know us.”
“I can be nice,” Rhys protested.
Everyone proceeded to burst out laughing.
“Okay, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.”
“That’s right,” Nesta grinned. “Accept your true nature and join our pit of darkness.”
Gwyn laughed evilly, “Mwahahaha!”
Nesta lifted her left hand, which Gwyn promptly high-fived.
“Okay, anyway,” Elain interrupted, “Cassian, are you hungry? You must be tired after that amazing game.”
“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Elain,” he said, extending her name pointedly. “I am actually pretty hungry and tired and sore after the game.”
He turned his head to glare at Azriel, who was still holding him.
Az merely rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor baby. Does the little Fionn Cup Champion have a boo-boo?”
“Maybe he needs Nesta to kiss them better,” Gwyn suggested, not bothering to hide her smirk.
“Are you gonna tend to his wounds?” Rhysand asked. “Nurse him to health?”
“I guess that depends on what it is that he’s hungry for,” Nesta replied with a wink.
They all burst out laughing a second later.
“Wow, you’re all so immature,” Cassian sniffed. “Elain is the only person fit for polite company.”
Rhysand glanced around. “What polite company?”
“Oh, no,” Azriel exclaimed. “We’re blaspheming! Now that Cassian’s won the Cup, we have to refer to him by his proper title: His Highness Sir Cassian of Illyrian.”
“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” Nesta added with a curtsey. “Please, forgive our disrespect.”
“Regency romance,” Gwyn fake-coughed into her elbow.
“Of course, m’lady,” Cassian winked, “you’re forgiven. Although you may have to be punished for your transgressions.”
Azriel pretended to gag. “Please, save the foreplay for the bedroom.”
“My poor, innocent ears,” Rhysand groaned. “I’ll never recover.”
Nesta turned to him. “Right, because you’ve never made out with my baby sister in public.” Then, she smirked. “Although, maybe you are innocent if that was too much for you. I mean, how vanilla are you?”
“Cassian,” Elain interrupted. “Do you want to go eat dinner at a restaurant or something?”
“That sounds amazing! How about the Greek place on 10th Avenue?” Cassian replied.
“Oh fine,” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully, “We’ll get food.”
“I am actually really hungry, too,” Gwyn agreed.
“Well, if Gwyn is hungry, then we gotta go eat now!” Nesta declared.
Azriel nodded, his expression serious.
Cassian sighed.
“I’ll meet you guys there,” Cassian called out as he walked towards his car with Nesta, “Or not. It’s also fine if you get lost on the way.”
Azriel responded by raising a choice finger.
The mirth was still in the air as Nesta closed the car door on the passenger’s side.
“I can drive if you want,” she joked as Cassian slammed his door shut. Nesta was a notoriously reckless driver. She hated driving unless she had to, and Cassian loved driving, so it usually worked out perfectly.
He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to live.”
The car got quiet as the laughter faded. It filled instead with an intimate intensity.
Cassian turned slightly to buckle his seatbelt.
Nesta reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassian inhaled sharply and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek.
“Cassian,” she whispered. She knew the look in her eyes said it all already, but it had said it for so long and she’d never once let her tongue speak it. But Cassian — brilliant, beautiful, splendid Cassian who had been hurt far too much by the world — deserved to hear them aloud. It scared her for too many reasons to count, but if ever there was anyone worth confronting that fear for, it was this man who sat next to her in all his marvelous glory.
His eyes were open — vulnerable, in a way he always was with her. Sometimes she wondered whether she deserved to be allowed to handle his precious heart that too many had tried to shatter. What if she dropped it or dented it with her harshness? But he entrusted her with it anyway.
She took a deep breath. Then, she let it out, alongside the words she’d been holding in for so long.
“I love you.”
Cassian’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to reply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not a single word escaped despite his attempts, but Nesta understood and just smiled, her eyes shining with joy.
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to respond.”
Cassian looked frustrated at himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I- I do. I-” He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.
Nesta knew that those three words were not ones Cassian had heard very much in his life. Shirina had likely been the first to say those words to him in his memory, and that hadn’t been til his teen years. Cassian’s mother had most likely loved him, but Cassian’s memories of her were sparse.
Enalius certainly loved Cassian, but Nesta was just as certain that he would not say it out aloud. Enalius showed his love through his coaching, his cheering, and the letters he’d send from all over the world.
Ayla, Rhysand, and Azriel also loved Cassian and weren’t shy about it these days, although none of them were particularly vocal about it either. They preferred to show it through gifts and hugs and jokes and advice. When they had met, however, they had all been preteens who wouldn’t have been caught dead saying the words ‘I love you’.
Cassian had certainly had flings and girlfriends in the past. Nesta didn’t know the details of all of his past relationships, but she could easily guess that those words had seldom or, more likely, never been exchanged.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything right now.”
And then, just because she could — because she now had the freedom to say it without being caged by fear — she added, “I love you, Cassian.”
Cassian answered with a kiss that said, ‘I love you more than words can ever express.’
__________
Present day
“I was such a mess,” Cassian recalled fondly. “Rhys and Az laughed at me for bawling so much.”
“I remember Gwyn saying that she could take the trophy if it was making you so sad,” Nesta added.
“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he laughed. Then, he added, “I love you.”
“Are you talking to me or the trophy?”
“Oh, the trophy, for sure.”
“Oh, good, just wanted to make sure.”
They grinned at each other.
“You have no idea how I felt when I saw you make that heart that day,” he said. “I mean, I was already elated because of the goal I’d just scored, but that couldn’t even compare to how I felt when I looked up at you. I think my heart literally skipped a beat.”
“Better visit a cardiologist then,” Nesta answered lightly.
Cassian flicked her nose. She shrieked loudly in return.
“You know what you sound like?” Cassian tapped a photo in the middle, which was surrounded by doodles of musical notes.
Nesta mock-gasped. “Excuse you, I wasn’t that bad.”
“You’re right, you were worse.”
__________
Three years ago
“What’s that?”
Nesta pointed towards a large, lumpy black bag resting against Cassian’s bedroom wall.
“Oh, sorry, I was practicing earlier and forgot to put it away.” Cassian moved the bag to his closet. “It’s my guitar.”
Nesta placed her hand on Cassian’s wrist before he could shut the closet.
“You play guitar?”
“Yeah, it’s something I picked up when living with Shirina. I’m not a pro or anything, but it’s a fun hobby, you know.”
“Wow, would you… could you play something for me?”
Cassian seemed surprised but nodded, pulling the guitar back out of the closet.
He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the bed. “What do you want me to play?”
Nesta sat down beside him. “Anything you want. Just play me something you enjoy playing.”
Cassian absently strummed the guitar a few times, deep in thought.
“Alright, sweetheart. Here we go. This song is called la rosa del principe.” Cassian closed his eyes and started playing.
Nesta watched him with bright eyes, mesmerized.
After a while, he started singing. His deep voice complemented the melody he was strumming. His singing was nice, but it was the passion in his voice that warmed Nesta’s insides.
“Wow,” Nesta whispered when the song ended.
Cassian chuckled. “Shirina loved that song. She’s the one that signed me up for some guitar lessons, you know. She taught me the lyrics to la rosa del principe when I told her I didn’t know them. She was always humming the melody when she was cooking or doing chores or whatever. I think it was a song her mom liked, so it reminded her of her childhood.”
“Does it remind you of your childhood?”
Cassian took a moment to contemplate his answer. “It reminds me of Shirina, and how kindly and lovingly she treated me. That wasn’t really a common theme in my childhood, you know, but I suppose you could say it reminds me of some of the best parts of my childhood.”
Nesta nudged his shoulder with hers comfortingly. He gently pushed back against her in a silent gesture of gratitude. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
Then, Nesta pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Could you teach me?”
Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded.
“The lyrics are kind of complicated, since it’s not in English, but I can just teach you the chorus for now if you want.”
“Sure,” she smiled.
Cassian spoke the lyrics slowly. Nesta tried to repeat after him, though she didn’t do the best job judging by Cassian’s chuckles.
“Close. It’s tramonto, not tremare,” he corrected.
“What do the lyrics mean?” Nesta asked.
“The song is a love letter to a rose. It’s a metaphor for loving something so delicate and impermanent,” he explained. “The song is from the point of view of this guy who is so powerful — he’s a prince, he can travel across galaxies, he can do whatever he wants — but he feels so powerless because he knows he can’t control what happens to this rose that he loves. And even though he’s rich and powerful, he gets lonely a lot and his rose is his only companion so he dreads the thought of leaving it or having it disappear.”
“That sounds kind of tragic.”
“I guess so, but it’s not sad per se. It’s more like a reminder of the importance of love rather than materialistic things, and not taking your loved ones for granted.”
He kissed her cheek.
Nesta smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
Cassian hummed in agreement. “It’s such a Shirina song. She loved songs with morals like that, that remind you to appreciate what you have. She was so down-to-Earth, even though her husband was one of the richest, most powerful people around here. It’s…” He trailed off with a sigh.
“I’m glad you met her,” Nesta said quietly after a moment. “She sounds like a great person and I’m so happy you had her in your life.”
“Yeah, me too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish you could’ve met her. I think… I think she would have loved you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They sat quietly for a moment. Then, Cassian grinned mischievously.
“Cas! What the fu-” yelped Nesta as he lifted her up.
He placed her between his legs with a huff of laughter. She leaned back into him, her back pressing against his front.
Cassian placed the guitar in her lap.
“Alright, it’s time for you to learn how to play this magnificent instrument,” he declared.
“Okay, but I’m just warning you, I don’t really have experience playing instruments.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just here to help you learn some basics. Besides, you’re a dancer so you have some experience with rhymes and stuff. How bad could you be?”
Holding her hands in his, he demonstrated how to hold the guitar and how to strum a basic chord.
“You got it!” Cassian cheered as Nesta played a C chord that didn’t sound half bad.
“Ok, so then,” Cassian moved their hands to a different position. “Use your pointer finger to hold down this string. Good! Your middle finger holds this one and your ring finger holds this one.”
He continued his explanation of different chords and strumming patterns.
“So, basically, you just hold down different strings and strum up and down for different notes, right?” Nesta asked as he finished.
Cassian chuckled. “Basically, yeah.”
“Alright.” Nesta wiggled her hands free from Cassian’s grasp and took a dramatic deep breath. “It’s time. I’m going to play.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to play? I haven’t taught you how to play la rosa del principe yet.”
She shrugged. “I’m just going to let my imagination and inspiration guide me.”
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s going to turn out-”
A jumbled chord cut him off.
“Um-”
What followed next was the most chaotic, screechy minute of guitar playing Cassian had ever heard. The torture likely would have continued for longer, since he didn’t have the heart to stop Nesta, if they hadn’t been interrupted by the Cassian’s bedroom door slamming open.
Azriel yelled, “Cassian! I think a cat is dying in your ro- oh, hey Nesta.”
“Hey Az!” she replied, beaming at Cassian’s roommate until she registered his words. “Wait, what? You think I sound like a dying cat?”
Azriel took a step back, prepared to run away, as Nesta stood up and placed the guitar in Cassian’s lap.
“Well, you know, uh, it’s good to practice and all, but we don’t want noise complaints from our neighbors, or allegations of animal abuse so…” Az smirked.
“Wha- animal- Get back here you little-” Nesta sprinted down the hallway, chasing after a cackling Azriel.
Cassian was still sitting there, laughing, when the two of them ran back into the room.
“Save me, Cass!” Azriel pleaded as he tried to hide behind his friend.
Nesta smirked. “You really think you can use my boyfriend against me like this?”
“He was my friend first!” Azriel gripped his sleeve.
Nesta rolled her eyes.
“Please Cassian,” she said in an airy voice. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently tugged on his sleeve.
He followed her lead without even thinking, until Azriel muttered, “Traitor.”
“Hey, wait-” Cassian interjected, coming to his senses.
Nesta stuck her tongue out at Az. “He loves me.”
Whatever Cassian could have said on Azriel’s behalf dissipated when her eyes softened as they met his.
Even Azriel’s over-the-top gagging noises couldn’t ruin the moment as Nesta smiled at him and murmured, “Can you teach me how to play la rosa del principe later?”
“We’ll see,” Cassian replied with a smile, knowing full well that he’d cave into her demands, no matter the cost to his ears.
__________
Present day
“I love that you wanted to learn how to play guitar for me.” Cassian’s eyes were warm and full of mirth. “Even if playing music isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
Nesta placed a hand over her heart. “How dare you suggest such a thing.”
Her stern demeanor gave way to playfulness as she winked, “I guess you’ll just have to sing and play music for me while I dance.”
“Exactly. You see, Nes, we complement each other perfectly.”
“A match made in heaven,” she agreed with a laugh.
“Honestly, though, it meant a lot to me that you wanted to hear me play,” Cassian said when they stopped laughing, “and that you wanted to learn.”
“It meant a lot to me that you were willing to share such a personal song with me,” Nesta answered, “and that you were willing to be so open with me without prompting. It was like a sign, you know, that our relationship was actually real and meaningful to you, too. Of course I already knew that but, like, I guess it just hit home right then.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. In that moment, I also felt how easy it was to be open and talk about anything and everything with you.”
“You see?” Nesta winked, gesturing between them. “We’re made for each other.”
She glanced down at the pictures between them.
“At least I don’t need to put up with Az insulting my musical talents anymore, now that you don’t live together.”
“Talents?” Cassian coughed.
Nesta shot him a warning glare before continuing, “I’m so glad I don’t need to hear him complaining or interrupting us anymore. That was the real reason I asked you to live with me, you know — so I wouldn’t have to hear his whining.”
“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replied. He leaned closer to her. “It was all part of my plan, Sweetheart.”
__________
Two years ago
“Don’t mind me, I just need to get to the kettle.”
Nesta and Cassian sprung apart at Azriel’s words.
Azriel, with a bored expression, walked past the couple into the kitchen and filled water in the kettle.
Cassian hastily redid his fly, clearing his throat a few times. Nesta, blushing furiously, scrambled to hook her bra and do up the buttons on her shirt.
Azriel turned back around, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He reached into his back pocket for his phone, but noticed Nesta’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nesta, chill. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he growled.
Azriel shook his head in exasperation. “How many times have I walked in on you two making out — hell, how many times have I walked in on you two fucking in common spaces? At this point, I’m immune to all this.” He waved his hand at Nesta’s half-open shirt and Cassian’s bare chest.
Cassian slipped his shirt over his head.
“Really?” Nesta asked, arching a perfectly angled eyebrow and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Cassian elbowed her and she giggled, buttoning up the rest of her shirt.
“Az-” Cassian began, annoyance coloring his tone.
“No,” Azriel interrupted firmly. “If you don’t want me to walk in or interrupt you or whatever, go do whatever you want in your room. I’ve never once complained about the noise, even when I have to put up with your loud-ass moans and screams. But I have the right to make tea in my own house if I want to.”
Cassian narrowed his eyes. His stance changed unconsciously, gearing up for a fight. He opened his mouth to deliver a biting retort.
“You’re right, Az,” Nesta interjected before the situation could escalate any further. “We’re sorry.”
Azriel was silent, his eyes fixed on Cassian. The latter let Nesta pull him towards his bedroom.
About a week later, Cassian and Nesta were once again interrupted. This time, Azriel crunched loudly on his popcorn as he walked into the living room.
Cassian sent him a questioning glare as Nesta scrambled to cover herself.
“What?” Azriel replied, unfazed. “I was gonna watch TV, but, well, it seems like there’s a show right here.”
“Look-”
“C’mon, Cass.” Nesta sprung up from the couch, dressed in Cassian’s shirt, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “I needed to talk to you about something, anyway.” She winked at him and whispered, “I got a little side-tracked and forgot.”
Cassian shot Az a dirty look as he exited the room.
“Did you actually need to talk about something,” Cassian asked with a smile as he sat down on his bed and placed Nesta on his lap, “or did you just want to distract me?”
He leaned his forehead against hers.
Nesta laughed lightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always lie to manipulate you.”
He widened his eyes in false disbelief. “Really?”
She shook her head with a grin. “Why would I when I can manipulate you just as well with the truth?”
“Ooh, you saucy witch,” Cassian joked.
They both laughed.
Nesta pressed a hand to Cassian’s cheek to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.
“I do actually want to talk about something.”
He leaned back and cocked his head. “What’s up?”
The twinkle in Nesta’s eyes dimmed.
“It’s my apartment.” She swallowed. “My landlord is raising the rent.”
“Again?” he replied, alarmed. It had only been four months since the last time her rent had increased.
She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not… I mean, it would be ridiculous for me to stay there, even if I managed to afford it. It’s definitely not worth the new rent.”
“So you want to move?”
“Yeah.”
Cassian seemed confused by her nervous tone. “Alright, well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll help you with all your stuff, and I know a guy with a moving truck. It’ll all be okay. We’ll find you a way better place to live.”
He gave her an encouraging squeeze and smile that she didn’t return.
“Uh, well, um. Actually, I was wondering if…” Nesta rolled her lips.
Cassian frowned, concerned by Nesta’s hesitant tone.
“Could I- I mean, I already spend so much time at your place,” she continued, “and I stay here a lot and we- um. Since I have to get a new place…”
“Of course you can stay here while you look for a new place!” Cassian replied.
“Oh!” Nesta sounded surprised. “No, I- I mean, thank you. But, uh, that’s not really what I was gonna…” She shook her head, annoyed at her own incoherence. “That’s really sweet of you, Cass.”
Cassian gave her a long look, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Are you trying to find a place on this block? I can try to get the inside scoop if that’s what you were asking.”
“No, no, that’s not what I-” She took a deep breath and then looked into Cassian's eyes. “Would you want to live with me?”
Cassian blinked. “Oh! Oh, I-” He started to grin. Then, he blinked again, and his face fell. “Oh, uh, I…”
“It’s totally fine if not!” Nesta quickly backtracked. “I know you already signed this lease and stuff, and I can definitely just move-”
“No, it’s- I-” It was Cassian’s turn to take a deep breath. “Nesta, I would love to live with you and I’m honored that you asked me and I’m- I’m so, so happy that you want to live with me. But, well, I just don’t know if it will work out, considering.” He shot a glance towards the door.
Nesta got up from Cassian’s lap. “Oh.” She looked away from him as she gathered her clothes off the floor, trying to disguise her hurt. “Um, okay. Yeah. I get it.” Her thoughts spiraled as she changed out of Cassian’s shirt.
“Nes! Nesta, I…” Cassian seemed to be at a loss for words. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly after a beat.
“Nes, I just…” he sounded frustrated. “You know how things have been lately, with Az. As much as I… I don’t think it’s realistic to think that he’d be okay with it, and of course I’d talk to him beforehand but, like, it is his place too and…”
She gave a noncommittal hum in reply.
The room was drenched in tense silence.
“Can you just be honest?” Nesta said finally, puncturing the tension. “If you don’t want to move in with me, just say it. I understand you’re renting this place with Az, but he isn’t unreasonable. We both know that if you talked about it, he’d be cool with it. Maybe he’d ask you to wait for a bit, until the end of this lease or whatever, but he wouldn’t stop you. So just tell me why you don’t want to live with me, because I- I thought we were… that this was…”
“I am being honest,” Cassian frowned.
She gave an irritated sigh.
“No, really, I am,” he insisted. “You were there with me in the living room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see how pissed he was? I guess maybe it wasn’t- Az isn’t the type to yell or anything. That quiet, passive-aggressive type shit is how he expresses his annoyance.”
“So?” Nesta bit back. “If anything, I would have thought he’d be glad if we weren’t here as often.”
“Exactly! I don’t think we should spend more time here.”
Nesta paused. “What?”
“I know you and Az do get along,” he said, “but I really don’t think he’d be fine with you moving in here.”
“Here? Wait, you thought- Oh. Oh!” Nesta brightened visibly.
“What?” Cassian seemed bewildered by her sudden change in mood.
“Cassian, I wasn’t asking to move in here,” she laughed. “I was asking you to move in with me at a new place we’ll find together.”
Cassian’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’d love that! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I thought- but- yes!”
Nesta grinned. “I should’ve been clearer, sorry about that.”
“No, no, it’s on me.” His face slowly spread into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to work on communicating better if we’re gonna live together, huh?”
“I guess so,” she beamed.
Nesta embraced Cassian tightly.
“We’re living together!” she whispered excitedly.
He hugged her back. “Yes, we are,” he replied just as thrilled.
__________
Present day
“I can’t believe we were so stupid,” Nesta laughed.
“I know right?” Cassian looked down at the photo once more. “No, but seriously, I was so elated when we moved into this place.”
Nesta smiled fondly. “Yeah, me too. I smiled for, like, 48 hours straight, even though we had to carry all those boxes and,” she paused dramatically, “unpack.” She shuddered.
“Ah, yes, unpacking — the harshest of struggles.”
“I’m so glad you understand.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mind unpacking, but well,” Cassian ran a hand through his hair suavely, “some people are just built different.”
Nesta flipped him off playfully.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous,” he replied consolingly, “I have my own weaknesses. Like, I hate packing.”
She huffed. “Cass-”
“What? Oh, c’mon, what’s the point of my trauma if I can’t joke about it?”
She shook her head with a chuckle. “So you’re saying that all that trauma was just character development so you could increase your humor stats?”
Cassian pointed finger guns at her. “Cha-ching! Now you get it.”
Nesta laughed.
She looked around, still awed by the beautiful display Cassian had set up for her. She picked up a rose petal and admired its color and scent. As she fiddled with it, she was suddenly struck by a thought.
“Where are Ara and Lina?”
“They’re with Em,” Cassian said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean all this stuff up before they get back.”
“Oh, they love being at Emerie’s place. They get along so well with Siph, it’s crazy.” Nesta paused, struck by another thought. “Wait, but why did you ask her to watch them? I mean, why did you organize this whole-”
“Remember when we got them?” Cassian interrupted, pointing to another polaroid. “They used to be so tiny! It’s crazy how much they’ve grown.”
Nesta cocked her head, confused by Cassian ignoring her question. Before she could continue her line of questioning, however, her eyes landed on the photo he was indicating and she got sidetracked.
“Oh my gosh, yeah,” she breathed as she reminisced. “I can’t believe we thought we were going to walk into the shelter without adopting a pet.”
“I can’t believe we told the landlord that we didn’t care about the pet policy because we were never going to get one,” he answered.
“We’re so lucky we accidentally got an apartment that allows pets,” she agreed.
“I’ll never forget the look on Cresseida’s face when we told her,” Cassian added.
She replied, “She made sure we’d never forget. She was saying ‘I told you so’ for months.”
__________
One year ago
“We’ll stop by for a bit, but we’re not adopting any pets,” Nesta repeated for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.
“Okay,” Cresseida answered with a knowing smirk, “but it’s also okay if you change your mind.”
Cresseida, Emerie’s girlfriend, ran a pet shelter with her best friend, Nuala. She had invited all of Emerie’s friends to stop by anytime, saying that she and the animals enjoyed having company.
Nesta and Cassian had resisted at first, since they weren’t looking for pets and, in Nesta’s words, “weren’t the pet type”. Neither of them had ever owned a pet before. While they respected people who loved their pets, they also enjoyed making fun of those who dressed up in matching outfits with their pets for Halloween and talked about their pets as though they were their children. Also, while Nesta didn’t dislike animals per se, she also didn’t like them enough to feel any desire to live with one 24/7, let alone take care of one. Cassian liked animals well enough but he’d had some bad experiences with stray dogs when he was a kid. When they visited friends who owned big dogs who would greet visitors by pouncing on them or barking excitedly, Cassian would always plaster a fake smile on his face, but she’d feel him flinch.
However, when Emerie used her puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with Nesta to just go once to support her girlfriend’s work, she’d caved and agreed to visit. Cassian and Gwyn — both of whom had yet to visit the shelter — came along with her, saying they should all just get it over with together.
“This side of the shelter has dogs,” Cresseida said as they walked in, “and this side has cats. There are also some other animals in the back section. Feel free to walk around and ask me if you have any questions. Right now, most of the animals are in their individual kennels and the kennel doors are locked but let me know if you want to play with any of them.”
“Alright, thanks,” Nesta replied.
She and Cassian shared a look. Both of them wanted to humor Cresseida, who was a great person and also the best girlfriend Emerie had (at least in Nesta’s opinion), but they both knew they wouldn’t be interested in any animals. They would just wander around the shelter until an appropriate amount of time had passed and they could politely leave.
“Ooh, a kitten!” Gwyn exclaimed, grabbing Nesta’s hand and pulling her into the cat section.
Meanwhile, Cassian followed Cresseida into a different area.
“Oh my gosh, this baby is only 12 weeks old,” Gwyn cooed at the striped tabby cat. “Isn’t she adorable?”
“She is cute,” Nesta admitted, but Gwyn had already moved on.
“Wow, this cat has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen! Oh, and look at this one! Do you see the face he’s making?”
Nesta laughed and followed her friend, nodding along to Gwyn’s excited commentary.
Finally, Gwyn came to a halt with a gasp. She kneeled down wordlessly in front of an orange kitten, who blinked back at her sleepily. Nesta kneeled down next to Gwyn. She looked at the kennel in front of her. A jet-black cat was at the other corner of the kennel, hissing and growling at the young boy who was trying to attract its attention. His mother pulled him away just as the cat attempted to scratch the child through the glass.
“Crazy feral cat,” Nesta heard the mother grumble under her breath as they walked away.
Nesta raised an eyebrow at the cat, who regarded her with an equally judgemental expression. Nesta took a step closer to the glass. The cat did the same.
She tuned out Gwyn mumbling something. Instead, she turned her focus to the tag on the kennel.
“Oh, wow, you still don’t have a name even though you’re eight months old, huh,” Nesta said. She had always thought it was a bit silly how pet owners talked to animals as though they could really answer, but now she found it to be the most natural thing in the world. Especially when the cat meowed in response.
Nesta cocked her head. The cat studied her for a few seconds. It stared intensely with its yellow eyes. Then, it tilted its head, copying her.
She couldn’t help but melt. How was it possible that such a sweet cat had yet to find a home?
“Nesta! There you are!”
Nesta jolted as Cresseida’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“I see you found little Miss Onyx over here,” Cresseida smiled. “I’ve never seen her be so friendly with any customers before.”
“Is her name Onyx, then?”
“Oh, no. We have tried to name her before, but she seems to hate every name we’ve tried, so we kind of gave up,” Cresseida explained. “We couldn’t keep calling her ‘the unnamed black cat’, though, so now we just refer to her by black object names.” Cresseida turned towards the cat. “Isn’t that right, Blackberry?”
The cat hissed and retreated to the corner of her kennel closest to Nesta.
Cresseida laughed. “See?” Then, she sent Nesta a knowing glance. “She seems to adore you.”
Nesta glanced back at the cat, who was now sitting with a paw on the glass.
“She is very cute,” she admitted.
“She is,” Cresseida agreed. “Sadly, she’s fierce enough that she scares away most customers.”
“It’s like she’s made for Nesta!” Gwyn piped up. “I mean, look at her spunky attitude, her fierceness, her witchy vibes — since, you know, she’s a black cat.”
“I don’t have witchy vibes,” Nesta muttered.
Gwyn ignored her. “Not to mention, she’s right next to Mer,” she pointed to the orange cat, “who is my soulmate cat so our cats are destined to be best friends, just like us!”
“Wow, I didn’t- I haven’t said I’m adopting her yet,” Nesta protested.
“Yet,” Gwyn repeated, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.
Cresseida laughed. “Well, let me know if you are seriously interested in adopting Miss Obsidian. There’s a few things you would need to keep in mind for her that we should talk about.”
Nesta nodded.
“What about Mer?” Gwyn asked. “Any special care she needs that I should know about?”
“Not really. We did have her on a special diet for a bit because she was slightly malnourished when we found her but she’s at a healthy weight now.”
Nesta walked away as Gwyn and Cresseida continued their animated discussion. How was she going to convince Cassian to adopt a cat? Actually, Nesta knew that wouldn’t be an issue — Cassian would surely jump at any opportunity to make her happy. The real question was how she was going to put aside her pride and admit that she wanted to adopt the cat. She would also have to see if Cassian wanted to adopt the cat, too, and not just for her sake. It would be unfair to both Cassian and the cat to bring her into a home where only one person truly loved her. Not that Cassian wouldn’t be kind to the cat, regardless — it was just that Nesta wanted Cassian to adopt the cat because it made him happy, instead of doing it for Nesta’s sake.
Nesta was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she walked right into someone.
“Excuse me,” Nesta apologized. The man turned around.
“You’re excused, Nes,” Cassian replied with a wink.
“Oh, fuck you,” she groaned, holding back a smile.
“I know I’m hot, but you’re gonna have to wait til we get home.”
She replied with a soft punch to his shoulder. Cassian fell to the floor dramatically.
A bark sounded from the kennel right in front of Cassian. Nesta quickly examined Cassian for any signs of fear, but he wasn’t flinching. Instead, he tugged gently on her arm.
“Nes,” he said with a grin as she sat down beside him, “Let me introduce you to my new friend, Lina.”
Nesta turned to find a large golden retriever wagging her tail energetically. She was beautiful and friendly, but she also definitely weighed more than twenty kilograms and had a full set of sharp teeth. In short, she was exactly the type of dog that Cassian would usually be uncomfortable around.
Yet, here he was, saying, “Look, I know we agreed that we were just looking around and we weren’t going to adopt any pets but look at her! Her cute paws, that gorgeous fur, and those eyes! And she’s so happy to see me! Doesn’t it just make you want to keep her forever?”
His expression said it all: he’d fallen completely in love with this dog.
“Cassian…”
His expression dropped. “I know taking care of a pet is a lot of work. If we did adopt her, I would walk her and figure out her food and vet stuff, but she would be living with both of us, so I would never want to adopt her if you weren’t completely on board. And having a pet would affect our lifestyle and our day-to-day lives a lot, so I understand if you’d rather not adopt her.”
“Do you want to adopt her?” Nesta blurted out.
Cassian looked confused.
“I mean, she’s obviously a beautiful and friendly dog, but she’s in a kennel right now,” Nesta explained. “If we adopt her, she could jump on you or bite you or scratch you. Won’t you be on edge having a dog in our apartment all the time, even if you’re tired or having a rough day?”
“All the other dogs I’ve met make me nervous, either when they bark or pant or just by being close to me. They remind me of rough times in my childhood, when I was scared and in danger. But for some reason, Lina is different. I don’t get any of that fear or anxiety around her. In fact, it’s the opposite. She makes me feel relaxed and happy. I think she actually makes me feel safe.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Weird, huh?”
Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you found her. I still want you to take her for a walk before we sign anything if we’re going to adopt her.”
“Wait, but- We don’t need to adopt her just because I want to. If you don’t want a pet, you shouldn’t agree just for my sake,” he added hurriedly. Still, Nesta could see the corners of his mouth tilting up.
“Yes, I want to adopt her! And,” Nesta continued, seeing Cassian opening his mouth to argue, “do you really think that I would ever agree to something I didn’t want to do, just for someone else’s sake?”
“Yeah, I do. I know you’re a big softie,” Cassian teased.
She laughed. “Well, trust me, I do want to adopt a pet.”
“Of course she wants to!” Gwyn interjected, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “You should have seen her with that cat. It was like she’d found her twin flame! No offense, Cassian.”
“Wait, what cat?” he replied, befuddled.
Nesta attempted to wave him off. “It’s nothing-”
“It’s not nothing!” Gwyn interrupted animatedly. “It’s her cat soulmate! A little ball of anger and adorable-ness, just like our little Nesta here.”
Nesta sent her friend a flat look. “Thanks a lot for that description.”
Gwyn just shrugged. “What? You know I’m right.”
“Where can I find this cat?” Cassian asked.
Gwyn pointed him in the right direction, telling him about all the ways in which the cat represented Nesta while pointedly ignoring Nesta’s calls of “No, it’s fine” and “You don’t need to go look at the cat” and “I don’t have spooky evil vibes!”.
“Aww, look at her,” Cassian smiled as he crouched in front of the black cat’s kennel.
The cat hissed in return.
“You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Good girl!” cooed Cassian.
The cat abruptly stopped hissing. She stared at him unblinkingly before purring quietly.
Gwyn erupted with laughter. “Wow, she really is just like Nesta, huh? Everything down to the praise ki-”
Her words were cut off as Nesta covered Gwyn’s mouth with her hand.
“What the fuck, Gwyn! She’s a cat! That’s disgusting,” Nesta hissed in her ear.
Gwyn licked Nesta’s palm, and used the moment Nesta recoiled as a distraction to pull her hand off.
“I just tell it how I see it,” Gwyn declared. “And I have never once been disgusting.”
“Oh really?” Nesta replied, bringing the hand Gwyn had licked close to Gwyn’s face.
Gwyn screeched and ran down to hide behind Cassian.
Cassian remained focused on the cat. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. What’s your name, baby?”
“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Nesta supplied, before bringing her licked hand around Cassian to reach for Gwyn. The redhead let out another shriek and ran.
Nesta could see the moment Cassian melted. His posture seemed to go soft as his expression turned even more tender.
“You don’t have a name yet, huh?” he murmured. “I guess you need a family to give you a name and a home and some love.”
She placed her non-licked hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of his own childhood — when he’d needed a home and a family, too.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, “me and your mom are going to give you so much love.”
“Cass, are you sure?” she questioned gently. She ignored how it made her feel to hear him refer to her as ‘mom’. There was too much to unpack there, and she would save it for later, after they’d finished making important decisions.
“Look at her, Nes,” he replied. “It’s like she was made for us.”
Nesta knew it was more than just about the resemblances between her and the cat that Gwyn had pointed out. It was about how this cat hissed and growled at strangers, putting her guard up, but really was just a sweet kitten who needed some love. Both of them could relate to putting on a tough face to hide how vulnerable and hurt they really were.
She knew Cassian was thinking that this cat would be a perfect addition to their lives.
“But what about Lina?” Nesta insisted.
“You love this cat. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “we both love this cat and we should adopt her.”
Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And what are we doing about the fact that we both love Lina?”
This wasn’t just about the animals, and they both knew that.
It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t think Cassian wanted to adopt the cat — she knew he really, truly did. But she also knew that he wanted to adopt Lina. She wouldn’t let him give up on his wishes and always put her needs above his. While she appreciated the sentiment, she also knew he had a tendency to discount his own desires. She needed him to know that what he wanted mattered just as much.
Cassian let out a big breath like a deflating mattress, the fight going out of him.
“I love Lina, I do. And I know it’s so special that I feel so safe around her — around a big dog with sharp teeth. But Nes,” his voice took on a different tone, “at the end of the day, she’s a friendly golden retriever. I’m sure a million families with white picket fences are lining up to adopt her. And this cat… I mean, she doesn’t even have a name.”
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“I know we could love either of them, and they’d be incredible. But at least with Lina, I know she’ll find someone else to take care of her. I don’t know if this cat will find that, and she’s too…” Cassian paused to search for a word. His nose scrunched in frustration as his vocabulary failed him. “She’s too precious for me to take that chance.”
He needed his kitten to find a home. He couldn’t risk her never finding a family — not when he had so much love he could give her.
Nesta contemplated silently.
“Okay,” she finally said, her eyes piercing through him as though she intended to read his heart. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do, we’ll get this cat.”
Cassian smiled. “Look at us, being real adults. Can you believe we’re going to be parenting this cutie?”
“Parenting,” repeated Nesta with a snort. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like we’re having a baby or something. People are going to think I’m pregnant.”
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Gwyn exclaimed, reappearing next to Nesta from wherever she’d run off to. She had clearly only caught the tail end of Nesta’s sentence.
“Wow, I’m so excited to be an aunt! Do you know the sex yet? Wait, how far along do you need to be to know that? How many months are you, by the way?” Gwyn spoke too rapidly for anyone to get a word in. “I had no idea about this! How have you been hiding the morning sickness? Or does everyone know about this already? Oh, gosh, this is so exciting!”
Nesta stayed silent, trying to hold in her smile. Cassian just looked bewildered.
Gwyn gave Nesta a light hug. “Oh, wow, this is crazy! Am I the first one to know? Wait, is it ok if I tell people? You can tell me if it’s still a secret, don’t worry.”
Cassian blinked. “No, that’s-”
“Oh, perfect!” Gwyn squealed. She reached over to hug Cassian, too. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Emerie! Oh my god, and Az! His reaction is going to be insane!”
She practically skipped down the hallway, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.
Cassian raised an eyebrow at Nesta. “What just happened?”
Nesta finally let out a laugh. “Just Gwyn being Gwyn, I suppose.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I’m actually curious to see how far this goes.” She leaned forward, pressing her side against him. “Do you think they’ll throw me a surprise baby shower?”
“Rhys is going to be so pissed I’m having a baby before him,” Cassian grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”
“We could tell them we’re having a daughter,” Nesta added, jerking her head towards the kitten.
Cassian laughed. He stood up and stretched out his body, likely feeling a slight ache because he’d been crouching for several minutes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is why I love you, you mastermind.”
His lips brought with them a wave of warmth that spread through her veins.
“Time to go tell Cresseida that we are going to adopt a pet after all,” Nesta chirped.
Cassian groaned. “How about you go tell her, since you’re the one who was looking at this cat first,” he suggested.
“But you made the final decision,” she countered.
“Well, no, I,” Cassian wracked his brain to find an excuse, “I think you would, uh, be better at filling out the paperwork.”
“Hmm,” Nesta tapped a finger to her chin and pretended to consider his offer, “How about… you do it?”
They were saved from their squabble when Gwyn reappeared with Cresseida in tow.
“So, can I take Mer home with me today or should I set up my place to be cat-ready first?” Gwyn was saying.
“Ah, Cresseida! Just the person we were looking for!” Cassian interjected. “Nesta wanted to ask you something.”
Nesta sent him a frigid side eye that would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but only made Cassian grin.
“We were thinking about adopting her,” Nesta said, pointing at the cat in question, “and were wondering what we need to do to make that happen? Is there just paperwork or something else we need to do?”
Cresseida’s expression changed completely. “I knew you would all walk out of here with pets!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Then she sobered slightly. “I’m so glad you’re interested in this cat, but like I mentioned earlier, there is something you should know.”
Nesta nodded sharply. The anticipation and anxiety started to creep up on her. Was the cat sick? Or disabled in some way? Perhaps she and Cassian, as first time pet owners, weren’t equipped to give her the care she needed.
“When we found her, she was only about two months old,” Cresseida explained. “We’re not quite sure what happened to her mother, since she didn’t seem to be with her family. But she had already bonded to another animal. They’re still quite close. Even though they’re generally kept in separate kennels, we usually let them play with each other once or twice a day, or she’ll start to get antsy. If at all possible, it would be best not to separate them. It may be possible for her to get used to living without her bonded friend, especially if she’s in an environment where she’s well-loved and taken care of, but it would be very difficult on both of them. So if you would consider adopting both of them, that would really be for the best.”
“Like, another cat?” Nesta inquired.
“It’s not Mer, is it?” Gwyn asked, looking worried. “If it is, I guess I’m going to have to move in with Nesta and Cassian.” Her face suddenly brightened. “I can be like a live-in nanny!”
“No, it’s not Mer,” Cresseida replied, “and it’s actually not another cat. It’s quite a unique situation. We’re still not sure how these two found each other and came to be bonded, but the other animal is actually a dog.”
“Oh.” Nesta felt her heart sink. She would hate to separate the cat from the one other animal that had been with her since she was a baby, but she also couldn’t adopt a dog. She wouldn’t allow Cassian to feel unsafe in his own home.
“We could adopt both-” Cassian began, just as she knew he would.
“No,” she cut in. She didn’t care if it made her seem like the villain in Cresseida’s eyes. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”
Her eyes shifted to the kitten once more. The cat truly was adorable. Nesta would miss her tremendously, even though they’d only just met. Still, she couldn’t separate her from the friend who’d become her family. She would have to let her go. It hurt, but she knew it was for the best.
“I don’t think we’ll adopt her after all,” Nesta said. Though she had once prided herself on hiding her true emotions from the world, she could tell that both Gwyn and Cassian instantly read the meaning behind her aloof tone.
“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably the right decision,” Gwyn supplied. “Adopting pets and having a baby at the same time would be really hard.”
Cassian kept silent. She knew he was itching to deny it, to demand that she adopt the cat anyway, his feelings be damned. She was glad that he knew her well enough that she would not be swayed, and that his well-being mattered more to her than anything else.
Cresseida sighed, disappointed. “I understand,” she said, resigned. “Dogs aren’t for everyone, especially if you have a lot on your plate. This dog really is the sweetest, although if you are allergic, a golden retriever wouldn’t be the right breed.”
“Hold on, did you say a golden retriever?” Cassian interjected. “You’re not talking about Lina, are you?”
Cresseida looked surprised. “I am, actually. I assume you’ve already made her acquaintance, then?”
“Wait, you’re saying we can adopt both Lina and this cat? And they wouldn’t fight or hurt each other?” Cassian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true.
“They do play-fight occasionally, but no, they don’t hurt each other and they get along great. But, I understand that you can’t adopt a dog,” Cresseida answered, slightly confused.
Cassian turned to Nesta.
“Did you hear that, Nes? We can adopt them both.”
He was beaming.
“They’re so perfect,” he repeated as they brought Lina and the cat home a week later, after they’d made all the necessary preparations. “It’s like we were made to find them.”
She felt like she was floating, swept up by the exuberance in his eyes.
When she watched the kitten curl up in Cassian’s lap while Lina sat beside them, a paw resting against the cat’s back, she couldn’t find a name for the feeling that bubbled up inside her. The only viable contenders — love and contentment — seemed too small to capture it all.
When Cassian later asked her what she wanted to name the cat, she looked at the life they’d built together — the bookshelves lined with hockey history books and romance novels, the kitchen counter where Cassian’s favorite chocolate lay beside her mountainous tea collection, the polaroid pictures of them stuck to the fridge with magnets, and the pets filling their home with affection — and replied, “Ataraxia.”
Peace.
__________
Present day
“I can’t even bring Ara and Lina around Cresseida anymore,” Cassian grumbled. “She always just talks about how incredible it was that we actually believed we’d leave her shelter without a pet.”
“She’s a menace,” Nesta agreed, though her words lacked any real bite.
They both adored Cresseida, and were delighted at how happy she made Emerie. It was only that Cresseida shared their friend group’s penchant for teasing their friend mercilessly.
“Her cooking is amazing though, so she makes up for it,” Nesta continued. “I had no idea vegan food could taste that good until I met her.”
“Speaking of cooking…” Cassian pointed to the last photo. It was labeled ‘cooking breakfast’.
Nesta leaned in closer to inspect the image. “When was this?”
“What? You don’t remember?” Cassian gasped in mock offense.
Then, he took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
__________
Three months ago
Cassian awoke to the birds chirping and the smell of pancakes permeating the air. He rolled over in bed, reaching out for Nesta, only to find her side of the bed empty.
He let out a small sigh.
It was a Saturday morning, and his favorite thing to do on weekends when they didn’t have anything planned was to spend lazy mornings in bed with her. During the week, both of them were too busy to linger in bed. Snoozing their alarms once was the extent of their indulgence.
But on weekends, Cassian liked to savor the feeling of Nesta lying beside him. He would lay in silence, taking it all in — the blankets warmed by their body heat, the way Nesta’s hair glowed in the morning light, the gentle pressuring of her body laying against his. Eyes half-open, he would breathe deeply and allow the peaceful contentment to fill his lungs. When Nesta woke up, there would be time for slow kisses, quiet conversations, and tender lovemaking. Their room would fill with soft but unbound laughter and playful quips. Later, they would make their way to the kitchen. One of them (usually Cassian) would cook brunch while the other did the dishes, swept the floor, or started a load of laundry.
This morning, it seemed that Nesta had broken their usual routine.
As Cassian rolled out of bed, his eyes caught the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 10:05 am, far later than he usually woke up on weekends. Cassian was almost always the first to wake, generally around 8 or 9 am, and he’d lay patiently until Nesta gained consciousness around 9:30.
Clearly, he’d been exhausted last night. It had been a long day of training, and then they’d gone out for dinner with his friends. After coming home, he and Nesta had watched a movie and then spent an hour tussling in their sheets. He’d fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.
Cassian pulled on a pair of dark jeans and strolled out of the bedroom without bothering to find a shirt.
He found Nesta at the stove, flipping a pancake. She looked ethereal with her long hair down and shimmering in the light that flowed through the window.
“Morning, Nes,” he said after taking a moment to appreciate the view.
Nesta’s long legs were bare. She was dressed only in his striped button-up shirt which ended right below her butt. As she turned towards him, he could see that she hadn’t bothered to do up all the buttons on his shirt. The V dipped deep enough that, had she been wearing a bra, lacy bits would have peeked out, but she’d clearly thrown the shirt on without it. Was she wearing any underwear?
She sent him a small smile in greeting.
“Can’t believe you didn’t bother to wake me up,” he teased as he pulled one of the hair ties off his wrist and put his probably messy hair into a neat bun.
“Well, it seems like I tired you out last night and you clearly needed your beauty sleep,” she shot back.
“Are you trying to imply that I didn’t tire you out?”
She shot him a smirk. “Well, I was up first, wasn’t I?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, even as he held back a smile. He loved this easy back-and-forth, joking banter. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he declared.
“Aww, did I bruise your little ego?”
She moved the pancake to a plate, and poured more batter into the pan.
“There’s nothing little about me,” he joked before walking up behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He was careful to steer clear of her arms, so that they wouldn’t accidentally touch the pan or the stove and get burned.
He rested his head in the crook of her neck. “I missed you this morning,” he whispered.
“Couldn’t survive a few minutes without me?” she answered. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the warmth of her tone.
“You know I’d be lost without you,” he answered. His tone was light and humorous, but his words were no less sincere.
She let out a small, fond chuckle. “Good thing I was only making breakfast then.”
He inhaled deeply. The smell of her vanilla and jasmine conditioner mixed with the sandalwood scent that lingered on his shirt. His neck was at a slightly awkward angle, bent down to accommodate Nesta’s forward-leaning posture as she cooked, but Cassian knew he’d be happy standing like this forever.
He stayed there for a few minutes, until Nesta stilled in his arms. He knew she needed to move in order to put the pancake on a plate and couldn’t do so with Cassian wrapped around her, but she also didn’t want him to let go.
He waited for a heartbeat, then gave her a slight squeeze before unwinding his arms. Before pulling away completely, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.
Then, he walked over to the utensil drawer to start setting the table.
When he sat down, his eyes flickered to Nesta’s figure, waiting for her to join him. He was itching to serve himself one of the pancakes in the middle of the table and bite into deliciousness. They smelled absolutely incredible.
However, Nesta walked over with the pan still in her hand. She plopped the pancake from her pan straight onto his plate. Unlike the other pancakes, it wasn’t shaped like a circle.
“It was misshapen, so it reminded me of your face,” she quipped as she sat down after putting her pan in the sink.
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile. The pancake was shaped like a perfect heart.
As they dug into their food, Cassian felt the domesticity seep into him. He knew how the rest of the day would likely go. They’d wash up together, and then Cassian would head out for a run with Lina while Nesta curled up on the couch with a book. He’d come home and shower, then make her a cup of tea. Later, they’d change the bedsheets, make a list of the groceries they needed to pick up, and chat, before watching a movie or ordering takeout. They’d end up having sex on the couch or in the shower — anywhere but on their freshly changed sheets — and then fall asleep curled around each other with Cassian’s arm slung over Nesta’s waist.
Their lives had fallen into a routine. And Cassian loved it. This peaceful life they’d built together could never be boring — not when they always filled it with so much playfulness and their jobs were filled with drama by necessity. The regularity was a blessing, not a curse. When Cassian walked through the doors to this apartment, he felt the tension of the outside world fade away. He felt at home.
He loved the life they had created together, and couldn’t imagine anything better than having mornings like this one for the rest of his life.
The thought should have shocked him, but it did not. He’d known for a long time that this was coming, but it was only now that it had fully sunk in.
He looked across the table at Nesta and caught her eye.
“What?” she asked with a grin.
He reached over and laced his pinky with hers.
“Nothing.” He smiled. “I love you.”
She shook her head fondly at his cheesiness, but still replied, “I love you.”
He wanted to declare his love for her in front of the whole world, and then spend the rest of his life with her. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his life than dedicating it to loving her.
That day, he started researching rings.
__________
Present day
“I love you,” said Cassian. His eyes shone brightly. “I love all the moments we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve made.”
He walked around the table where the pictures lay and grasped her hands.
“I do too.” Nesta, although still confused by their impromptu outpour of emotion, was always eager to remind Cassian of just how much she adored him. “I love you so much.”
Cassian smiled. She could see that a million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he took a breath to focus himself.
“I love you,” he said once more, as though he couldn’t help himself, just like he had after he’d first said the words. He’d been like a child who’d never been allowed sweets who had just been given a box of chocolates — he marveled at the fact that he had love in his grasp and he gorged himself on it, basking in the delight that he could say the words whenever he wished.
“Every minute, every second I get to spend with you is precious to me,” he continued. “Whether we’re at a party, a restaurant, a vacation, a match, or doing chores at home, every moment with you turns to gold. You made my life so beautiful and meaningful and happy, Nesta, in a way I never even imagined was possible. Even in the harshest moments, I know I’ll be okay because I get to come home to you every night. You’ve helped me learn how to live, not just survive. Because of you, I can love openly. Because of you, I can be myself without worrying that I’m too much. Because of you, I can let myself feel joy, instead of constantly worrying that it’s going to be ripped away from me. I can only hope that I can make you half as happy as you make me.”
“You make me happier than I ever thought possible,” Nesta answered. She was certain there were tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There were so many things that she could say — how the world had appeared cold and cruel, just like her reflection in the mirror, until she’d seen it all through his eyes. She would never stop being inspired by him — how was it possible for him to be so kind when the world had been so awful to him? How was it that he got wholeheartedly excited when it snowed, despite knowing the stinging pain of a cold night on the streets? His joy was infectious, and now she couldn’t help but admire the beauty in every little thing — children skipping down the sidewalk, the leaves changing color, and the birds chirping in the morning.
Yet, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the magnitude of her emotions for him, and just how much he’d changed her life? All she could do was look at him.
He squeezed her hands gently and she knew he understood.
“You’ve made me a better man.” His voice was slightly raspy as emotion clogged his throat. “My life is so much fuller with you in it. We’ve made so many beautiful memories,” he said, gesturing to the pictures with one hand, “and I want to dedicate the rest of my life to making more. It would be the greatest honor to spend my life by your side. I want to fill that table with a million — a billion — more memories.”
“So, Nesta Archeron,” He released her hands. She blinked in surprise and found him kneeling before her, a small box open in his hands with something sparkling inside. “Will you marry me?”
Her gaze had gotten blurred with tears, but she blinked them away now.
Cassian cut a stunning figure as he looked up at her, rose petals and candles glowing around him. His outfit flattered his body — the wine-red shirt showed off his muscular arms without being too tight and contrasted his skin tone well, bringing attention to his soft blush and curved lips to highlight his joy. His long hair was as glorious as usual, half of it pulled into a bun.
Still, it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention. His beautiful hazel eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes, sparkled not only with love and joy, but also with breathtaking certainty. Unlike during that bookstore date so long ago, Cassian was secure in their love. She could see in his eyes that, even if she said no, he would not doubt their relationship for a moment.
But of course, there was only one answer she would give to this wondrous man. He had come into her life like a fire, warming her and brightening her life in innumerable ways.
“Yes.”
__________
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Enemy Fire: 25
Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: language, stab wound, violence, mention of gun violence, alcohol consumption
AN: it’s here, babes. The moment we’ve all waited for. Photos from Pinterest (credit to original creator)
Jason paced over the carpet in the hallway. The strands of thread worn into tracks from how he had been continuously treading over them.
The room to his left was silent— barely even the thumping heartbeats audible. But fuck, was he relieved to hear two.
His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Bruce told him. He’d shoved them deep into his pockets, forcing his face to stay neutral when his heart exploded into fragments. Piercing his insides, slicing his organs.
In that instant, Jason wished he had let her leave Gotham. He wanted to go back and get her out before anything else could happen.
Go back to the stakeout mission, get up, throw his cup away, get on his bike and leave.
He should’ve known that his luck would bleed into her own. He was cursed and it was on her now.
There was no escape anymore.
The door clicked open, and the tall frame of Alfred presented itself. He closed the door firmly, his gaze swinging onto the flushed face of Jason before him.
“What happened?” Jason demanded, his eyes wide. Boring into Alfred’s face.
The boy was disheveled, clearly distraught. Alfred blamed Bruce; All he was probably told was that YN was stabbed and Alfred was working on her. It was no good, riling Jason up, that way.
Making him worry over nothing.
“She aided Master Bruce in stopping a robbery. One of the thieves pulled a knife. On Damian.”
“She took it for him?” Jason asked, confusion riddling his features.
YN took a knife? For Damian Wayne, of all people…
“Then she shot them.” Alfred continued, untroubled by the bewilderment of his ward.
“Damian?”
“The criminals, Master Todd, keep afoot.” Alfred advised, linking his hands together behind his back.
Jason pressed his hand to his face, exhaling a soft sigh. Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed; His fingers moving to comb through his hair, pushing it back from where it flopped over his forehead.
“She lose blood?”
“Not much.” Alfred informed. Jason’s knees almost gave out from relief. “I’ve finished bandaging her wound, but I’m putting her on strict bed rest for a week. Until I know more about her healing patterns.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll be fun for all of us.” Jason muttered.
YN would not take kindly to being told to sit out on her newly acquired taste of freedom. Even if it was to heal an injury.
Jason approached the door, his hand on the handle.
“Master Jason,” Alfred interrupted, drawing his attention back to the elder butler. His face as solemn as ever, the same gleam to his eyes as always present. “I would advise keeping the arguments to a minimum. The poor girl was just stabbed, I’m sure she wants some rest before the two of you pick it back up?”
“And let her get away with being stupid?” He asked, shaking his head. “No promises, Alfred.”
He opened the door and stepped through.
The blinds and curtains were wide open, allowing as much sunlight as possible to filter through.
That much, he was certain was Yn’s work.
She always seemed to sit in patches of sunlight, like a cat. Relishing in the warmth provided by a star, millions of miles away.
The closest she would let comfort be.
YN sat, sulking on her bed. Hands in her lap, her head turned to stare out of the window. Her lips pursed, face pinched. Blankets over her legs, pooled around waist.
“Jesus, Tails.” Jason grumbled, slamming the door behind himself.
She frowned, her head turned further away from him as he stalked closer.
Without any formalities, he sauntered to her bedside. Using three fingertips, he yanked her shirt up enough to see her side.
“Ow.” She jerked away, slapping at his hand to leave her alone.
Jason resisted her attacks; Though he dropped her shirt, he towered over her body. Glaring down at her.
“Can you maybe not get stabbed while my back is turned?” He asked, gesturing with one hand, down to her injured side.
YN crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.
“I can’t help that.” She croaked, voice harsher than he had expected. “Don’t turn your back, keep an eye on me at all times— I thought that’s why I moved into this godforsaken mansion to begin with and here we are—“
“YN.” He interrupted. She faltered, wide eyes focused on his face. “Shut. Up. You panicked, again.”
Like a child scorned, she bit down on her lip, eyes cast into her lap. She seemed to be retreating into herself.
“Sorry.” YN apologized, softly.
Jason’s hand pushed through his hair. Hesitating, debating whether he would be welcome into her little world she seemed to have retreated into.
He sat down on the mattress, his weight only halfway secured. When she didn’t curl further into herself, he settled more.
He had to wonder, what it was like in her childhood. Having been brought up an instrument of pain. Of terror.
What happened when she failed?
What made her panic every single time she was forced to make a decision?
He didn’t know if the answers were better than the questions.
Jason reached out, carefully. His fingertips lightly brushing her arm before falling to the sheets beside her thigh.
“It’s okay here; You can panic here.” Jason consoled.
Yn’s eyes met his, still watery from pain and tired from her exhaustion and whatever Alfred had prescribed.
“I didn’t freeze up, out there.” She clarified.
Jason smiled, no teeth showing— he didn’t doubt that. YN never froze, exactly. She just… rushed in.
“But you made reckless decisions when shit hit the fan.” He explained, nodding down to her injury. YN’s frown returned, as did her avoidance of eye contact. “It’s something you can learn to control, you can use it to your advantage. Your fight or flight will kick in, but you have to wait it out. Identify what can help you and not just jump to the first thing that comes to mind.”
YN sank deeper into the mattress. She supposed he had some semblance of what her thought process was. Bruce had told her stories of a younger, much less experienced Jason.
One who rushed, far too often; One who fought too hard to prove himself.
Who disobeyed orders and followed his straying emotions to his own death.
A boy who had poured his soul into being who he was today.
She couldn’t compete with that. She had been led around on a leash— aimed her weapon at whom ever stood before her. Unquestioning.
It was why she was doubting herself now, wasn’t it?
YN winced, pulling her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging the solidness against her body. Grounding herself from the spiral she had been caught in one too many times before.
“You think I can?” She asked, her lip half quirked into a smile. It didn’t stick for long; Just enough to flash at him before she buried her face in her arms.
Curling tighter.
Closing herself off.
“Stop doubting yourself.” Jason scooted closer, tilting his head to catch her gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been told before us, but people can change. They do, all the time.”
“You have a lot of faith in me.” She decided, her eyes meeting his.
Because you don’t seem to have any, he wanted to grab her, shake her, scream at her. Jason had to have faith in her, because he was carrying enough for the whole family.
She had to prove them wrong.
YN could be better.
Because that would mean Jason wasn’t faking. Two data points were always better than a single incident. A lucky mistake.
A fluke.
An accident.
Jason’s tongue kissed his teeth.
He didn’t know what was worse: the skepticism in her tone or the fact that she said it at all.
Sometimes, she was her own worst enemy. Sometimes, she just needed to shut up and stop thinking.
Without warning, Jason swept forward and pressed his lips to hers. YN jumped— startled by his sudden movement. As she jolted back, the kiss disconnected; Not for long, as she surged forward, teeth clashing messily.
She noticed, instantly— his lips were cold. In fact, there was little to no body heat coming from him. His hands that cupped her face were equally chilled.
An unsteady flare burned her chest, her skin grew warmer. Jason’s face burned, his skin warm from the heat emanating from her body. She was so… warm.
God, she was warm. Warmer than her normal, scorching temperature.
This felt cosmic— like he was standing too close to the sun. Tempting the flames to caress his face, burn the oxygen from his lungs.
He broke away, panting, his breath fanning over her lips and his forehead pressed to hers.
His mismatched eyes flickered between hers, analyzing every color and pattern he could. He had rarely found himself that close, or at least, without being harmed.
Even so, she didn’t back away either. Keeping the proximity zero to none; Inhaling each exhale.
“What the fuck was that?” She whispered.
Jason closed his eyes, shaking his head. He knew he had to explain his actions but he didn’t quite trust his voice.
Her fingertips scorched her prints into the skin of his neck. Heat bled onto the edge of his scar— and she could feel his chilled touch, thumb brushing along the raised edge of the scar on her cheek.
“I don’t know.”
YN sighed.
She was actually speechless. His skin felt heavenly against her own— cold, but far from lifeless.
Her eyes closed, eyelashes still wet from her earlier tears of pain and the fit she threw with Alfred’s stitching. The wound that had relatively calmed since her arrival, flared again— every rapid heartbeat sending a fresh wave of dulled, throbbing pain down her side. Washing over her entire body.
But she didn’t regret that. Not now. Not when she had just tasted paradise. From such an unlikely source.
What… the… fuck…
A sudden, stressful knock on the door sent both pairs of eyes flying open. Both parties scrambling away, disconnecting and shattering the strange, uncertain air between them.
“Hey, YN?” Duke called, standing behind the closed door.
YN cleared her throat, busying her hands with the blankets and her own clothes— anything to keep her mind off the walking enigma known as Jason Todd.
“You can come in.” YN answered, her voice nearly level.
Jason was mildly impressed— slightly annoyed— at her ability to act as if nothing had happened. To brush all her vulnerability back under a rug, hide it with a neutral face.
Because his mind had malfunctioned. He felt sluggish and tipsy. Off kilter— his world had just been rocked off its axis by a single kiss. Two pairs of lips brushing together had deconstructed his entire surroundings into 2D minimalist artwork.
Everything had shifted just two degrees.
Just left of normal.
“Jason, hey. I didn’t know you were here.” Duke’s voice was breathless. As though he had run all the way from the city.
“Just leaving.” His voice was hoarse. His face burned as he cleared his throat, cramming all the unidentifiable emotions back down his throat— successfully this time. As they all made it down without getting hung. His eyes flicked to YN. “I’ll be back here in a few hours, Tails.”
YN nodded. Though her mind was flying down the tracks— screaming and crying and, by all means, in full panic mode.
But she was not going to get up and start screaming, without prompt. She was going to act normally until she could think it through.
She could act normal for five minutes until his irritating face left her sight.
How fucking dare he kiss her like that— kiss her at all, really?
Who the fuck did he think he was, and why didn’t she just push him away when it happened?
YN blinked, realizing that she had, one, been glaring at him in silence, and two, he wanted an actual answer. With her words.
Now he was taunting her.
Her skin flushed with another bout of heat, only this time, she recognized it.
Anger.
“Got it. Enjoy your freedom.” YN snipped, folding her hands over her blankets.
Jason tipped his head.
“Enjoy your imprisonment.” He responded, quickly turning to make his hurried exit.
YN clenched her jaw, her hands spreading over the blankets. Smoothing them out. She inhaled deeply before turning her attention back to Duke.
“What’s up with you?” She snapped.
Duke paused. Maybe she wasn’t the best person to ask; She looked extra pissed today. Jason probably had something to do with that— they fought like alley cats on good days.
This seemed to be a bad day.
But he had no one else to ask, at the moment. Other than someone who seemed to be an expert. Or at least, closer to one than any one else of the Manor.
“I might need your help.” He started, hands wringing together. YN lifted a brow, urging him to continue. She might’ve been injured but she didn’t want to sit there all day, listening to his problem. “I have this friend… she had a blood test done last week and found out she has the Metagene.”
This was his problem? Seriously?
“This friend have powers?” YN asked.
Duke thought back to the spark against his palm when he touched the door handle. It could’ve been static, but it had happened every day, at least three times a day, for the past week.
Maybe coincidental.
Maybe abilities.
“No.” He answered, to be on the safe side.
“Then she’s a carrier. Next.”
He blinked.
“Carrier?”
YN scoffed, her eyes piercing through his skull.
She really was in a bad mood today.
“Are you deaf? Carrier. No abilities, you pass it on. What’s the problem?” She snapped.
Duke’s face broke out in a large grin— relief draining down.
He nearly leapt forward to press a thankful kiss to her forehead, until he thought better. Realizing that she was injured, not restrained.
“Absolutely nothing— it is a great day!” He cried, hands on his hips.
YN rolled her eyes.
These people were truly irritating.
“Hey, dickhead,” She interrupted his parade, prepared to rain bombs if she needed. “Being a meta isn’t the worst thing to happen to a person.”
Duke’s smile fell. Guilt stabbed his heart; He didn’t realize that in his celebration, she would be impacted.
He was practically spitting in her face.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” He started, shaking his head. Before he could continue, she scoffed. Her eyes rolling as her head turned away, arms crossing.
Hurt flickered across her features before she covered it with anger.
“Sure.” Her voice was monotone.
Duke pressed his lips together. If he spoke further, she would just become more angry. There was no explaining or apologizing now; She was already stirred up.
She would only lash out and leave both of them hurt.
He turned away, his hand on the doorknob. Stopping for a moment to look back at her.
“Thanks, YN.” He called.
He opened the door and stepped out, hearing a slightly sarcastic ‘no problem’ behind him.
Roy pocketed his keys, shouldering his door open. Jason ambled in behind him, his eyes already bleary. Limbs jelly.
He had nearly broken into the apartment hours prior, jimmying the window and sliding in. He crashed on the couch when he heard very loud, very abrasive singing from the shower.
The first of him that Roy saw was Jason’s ass— as he lay face down into the cushions. The last of his vodka sat on the coffee table beside him.
So after prying his friend from the couch, and putting pants on, Roy downed the rest of the alcohol and then dragged Jason out on the town.
In search of the nearest liquor store.
Which was where they were returning from.
Roy tossed his keys, missing them completely as they came back down, but left them on the floor. He was much more interested in the bag he carried in his arms.
He put it down on the kitchen table, rubbing his palms together eagerly. Jason had stumbled after him, picking up the keys and turning the lights on.
Roy pushed a bottle of something into his chest, before rifling through the bag again.
Jason cracked it open and downed a large gulp, without thinking. He winced at the tingle in his throat.
“What the fuck is in this, gasoline?” He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Roy’s eyes rolled, head tilting to glance over his shoulder. His hands stalled, glass bottles clinking together in the brown bag.
“You wanted liquor. Mkay? L-I-K….” His eyebrows furrowed, mouthing the letters again. “That’s not right. Liq… liquor.” He shook his head, the thoughts leaving like an etch-a-sketch. Just like that, his brain was blank again. “You wanted to get fucked up. This is the fastest solution.”
“I didn’t want to sear off my tastebuds.” Jason complained.
He thrust the bottle back into Roy’s chest, forcing him to take it. He ambled over to the cabinets, rummaging through the various cups and mugs for shot glasses.
“That’s the sacrifice you make, my friend.” Roy responded, crumpling the bag up. He was definitely feeling the effects of their pregaming; He blinked heavily, trying to clear his bleary eyes. “You never drink, anyhow. What’s the problem?”
Jason groaned, snatching the glasses and leaning his forehead against the door.
Flashes of heat filled his memory, coals being raked across his flesh.
A shiver ran down his spine— he could feel the press of her lips to his. The warmth. The eager reciprocation. His hands on her.
He shouldn’t have run out like that. He should’ve stayed and talked through it all. It wasn’t fair to her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. No. No, he did the right thing. He needed to leave right when he did. If he had stayed, he would’ve become a jerk.
He would’ve snapped at her, retreated into himself. Protected himself. And she would’ve gotten pissed and it would’ve ended in a fight.
They always fight.
So why did it feel so good?
“My fucking life is the problem, man.” Jason whispered, his eyes cracking open again.
Roy paused, his mind sobering.
“Jason,” He spoke softly, steadily. He swallowed, teeth running over his bottom lip. “If it’s this again, we’re getting you help, this time. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”
Jason turned, taking in his friend’s stance. The tenseness in his shoulders.
Roy thought…
He left the glasses on the counter, hand extended to his friend.
“No, it’s… no.” Jason stumbled as he stepped forward, a wave of vertigo smashing into his head. He pressed his hand against the sink instead and shifted his weight into the counter. Then, he sank down to sit on the floor, pressed to the cabinets. He pushed his palms into his eye sockets until he saw stars. “I just, I don’t know where my head is at. Every decision I’ve made these past few days have been clouded. The whole situation with YN and Bruce. My family.”
Roy exhaled, blinking away his watery eyes.
He leaned across, snatching the glasses and two bottles before sinking to the floor across from Jason. The steel toes of Jason’s boots pressed into his tibia.
“What’s going on, man?” He asked, settling into place. He cracked the lids of the bottles, pouring up two shots and tapping Jason’s leg.
Jason looked up, seeing Roy knock his first shot back. He accepted the other glass, letting it slide easily down his throat.
He exhaled sharply, allowing Roy to refill the glass. He shot it back before brushing a hand through his hair.
“It’s all just… jumbled up at this point. I don’t know anymore.” He complained, gratefully accepting his next shot.
“Start at the top. What’s eating you the most?”
Jason stared into his empty glass.
That was the problem: everything was. Bruce and Dick, YN. Alfred’s cryptic glances when he asked where YN was. Tim’s doubtful looks on both of them. Cassandra’s extremely concerning, ever growing bond between her and YN.
Because one of them loved to light things on fire, the other could do it with her body.
He didn’t know what was bugging him the most because everything was bugging him. All of it at the same time.
So he spilled.
Everything.
Anything he could think of came tumbling out of his mouth, crashing into the still air of Roy’s kitchen.
The more Jason spoke, the more Roy understood why he wanted to drink tonight. He couldn’t trust himself to tell it sober, so he was forcing his own hand. Talking everything out, speaking it out loud. Forcing himself to come to terms with his situation.
So Roy let him keep talking, and kept pouring drinks.
“And I don’t even blame Bruce anymore, that’s the fucked up thing about this.” Jason spat, infuriated by his torn apart mind. All the narratives he had listened to and choices he made, a toxic concoction of confusion. “I want to be angry at him, at all of them. But they make it so hard to stay angry.”
The redhead hummed in sympathy, a soft grunt escaping him when he shuffled to sit beside the rambling drunk in his kitchen. He settled in, back pressed to the cabinet, shoulder pressed to shoulder. Their extended legs nearly touching, Roy’s wiggling, shoeless foot tapped rhythmically against Jason’s boot mindlessly.
“And YN scares me. I don’t admit it to her, but she scares me. She’s powerful, and she can control the abilities but she can’t control herself.” He slammed his fist into his knee, pounding it like a gavel. Declaring his judgement over this enigma of his mind. “But it’s not even her abilities— it’s her. She is this… giant, fucking problem. It was one after the other and, granted I may have caused a few of those problems, but it’s just… it’s like trouble knows how to find her. She’s a divining rod. And she always lets it get to her. And dammit, she drives me insane; With her— with her, cocky arrogance and her absolute need to be right all the time. And this childlike sense of right and wrong, it’s like she’s not even empathizing.”
“Oh, shit.” Roy tilted, nearly falling over as he grabbed for the runaway cap.
He let it roll across the room— he didn’t need it anyway, the bottle was empty.
“And what’s worse: Dick is on her tail. He’s dogging her about being this hero and saving the world, when she doesn’t even conceptualice being her. She’s never lived.” Jason exhaled, tongue running along the inside of his teeth. His palms lay flat on his kneecaps, wiping sweat onto the fabric of his pants. “And that’s wrong. It’s not fair; To pull her from one fight to the next.”
He released an exasperated breath, marking the end of his tirade.
His chest didn’t feel as tight, he supposed that was some relief. He didn’t feel as constricted, as trapped. That had been the original purpose of the whole night.
But now he was hijacked. His mind replaying the moment. The moment he decided to let his body take control, instead of his mind.
And the first thing it did was press itself to her. Cradled her closely, as if it was possible of softness.
How long had this been going unnoticed— unsupervised? How long had he been suppressing his body’s thoughts, his heart’s thoughts? All in favor of keeping everything under his mind’s control.
In favor of keeping his control.
“I think….” Jason paused, his thoughts muddy. All he knew, for certain, was the feelings that pooled in his chest. Right beneath his sternum, sloshing against his heart. “Roy, I think I love her.”
The red head hiccuped, his brow furrowing.
“Who?” He asked, head tilting against the cabinet to look at his friend.
He squinted, zoning in on a single Jason— because he was seeing multiple.
Jason ignored his drunken stupor, and kept going. Unable to stop himself from regurgitating all the thoughts and feeling he had kept pinned, like a moth to a cork board.
All of it piling on top of each other for weeks— months.
Every time he thought back to a moment in time with YN, he could feel every tilt in the relationship. Pushing it toward the present.
God, he had been so blind.
“For these past few weeks it’s been like this weird… tingle in my chest and my palms get all sweaty. And I thought it was a heart attack or something,” Jason admitted, voice thick with Gothamite drawl.
“My grandpa had a stroke once.”
Jason buried his head in his hands, pressing the backs onto his knees.
“God, what am I supposed to do?” He moaned, voice muffled by his own legs.
Roy grunted, pushing himself onto his knees and flopping directly in front of Jason. He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and pushed him back, where he could see his face.
“Tell you what we’re gonna do,” Roy slurred, his eyes glassy. “We are getting in your car and going to BurgerBats and getting those shitty little kids meals.”
Jason blinked, heavily.
Had they even been having the same conversation?
Even though, he couldn’t deny that his stomach felt empty. His chest felt full enough for his whole body— bursting at the seams. Waiting for him to explode.
“First, we can’t drive.” Jason reasoned. Roy hummed, disappointedly.
“You’re right, I never even passed my drivers test.” Roy grouched, hands falling from Jason’s shoulders. He settled in at his feet, sliding off his knees and onto his ass.
“Second, it’s BatBurger, you dumb idiot.” Jason scolded, leaning back into the cabinet. Lips pouted, he had already started sulking.
“Hell, what do I know?” Roy exhaled, leaning against Jason’s knees. They sat together in the silence, a comforting, drunken silence, steeped in camaraderie. Roy blinked, his brain reeling to catch up from minutes of words being spoken at him. “You love her?”
The quiet of the kitchen wasn’t oppressive or even passive.
More contemplative.
More troubled. Confounded; They sat, stewing in Jason’s contempt. The faintest taste of happiness in his mouth, on his tongue.
“At the very least.” He confirmed. He exhaled shakily. “I kissed her, Roy. I didn’t even think about it. I was just so relieved to see her alive that I… I just went for it.”
Roy propped his chin on top of Jason’s knees, peering up at him through his lashes.
Jason wasn’t the Casanova of the family— by any means. He didn’t kiss anyone, barely even acknowledged someone’s presence.
There had always been too much on his mind for it to think of women. Well, his exception of Wonder Woman, but that was more of a childhood fascination than anything.
“She burn you or somethin?” He asked, peeking at his forearms in search of any markings.
Jason shook his head, his eyelids drooping lower. He had nearly exhausted himself, and the hard, cool tile of Roy’s kitchen was becoming increasingly appealing.
“She’s warm. Really, really warm. It felt like kissing one of Alfred’s cookies when they’re fresh.” He divulged. His hands held out in front of him, palms caressing her invisible body between them.
“Damn.” Roy slumped more weight against Jason’s legs. He cast a side eye glance to his friend. “D’you make out with cookies when we aren’t watching?”
Jason sighed, cracking one eye open.
“I wish I could kill you.” He teased.
Roy grinned, a doped up, full teeth smile.
“That’s suicide, Jaybird.” He warned. Jason’s brow crinkled in confusion. Roy only shrugged.
Jason pressed his palm to Roy’s forehead and pushed backward, sending him flat on his back.
It was silent for a moment before the redhead burst out into a barrage of giggles, his hands falling to rest on his shaking belly. Face turning various shades of red as he ran out of air.
Jason tilted his head back again, a smile pulling his own lips back.
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