#I COULD LITERALLY JUST SQUISH HIS FACE IN. AND THEN RUMPLE HIS HAIR

[lighthouseas]

he's so cute i have to kill myself

[j-a-nuary]

Date Roulette: Seunghyun

Friday

Intro Week Start Seungri Week Start Daesung Week Start Taeyang Week Start Previous Next

-----

I was becoming entirely too comfortable. Too comfortable with not making plans. Too comfortable with waking up in strange beds.

Too comfortable with Seunghyun.

Literally.

I had never been a believer in the idea that men were strictly big spoon cuddlers. My time with Daesung was enough proof of that. But with the way Seunghyun acted like a bit of a guard dog at times, I would never have taken him for the little spoon type.

But his head was resting on me, squished somewhat between my bicep and chest. His arms had managed to keep themselves securely around my waist as we slept, and he had practically bundled himself against me.

I started to move, stretching slightly. It drew a groan from him.

"Don't move," he grumbled, nuzzling his head deeper into my arm.

"We have to get going."

"Why?"

I raised my hand not currently pinned by his head and pushed the hair off of his face.

He was being… cute? That sounded about right. Cute.

It felt like a foreign word when applied to Seunghyun. And not foreign in the way I had become accustomed to. It wasn't just a new word, or one which I didn't know the meaning of. It was foreign like those words that didn't have a translation. Those definitions that go on for a paragraph.

I blinked, remembering that he had asked a question.

"Because they need to get in here and clean the room for the next guest."

He groaned, rolling to press his face directly into the mattress. As if he could escape downwards.

"I'll just extend it another night."

"But we need to get back to Seoul."

"Why?"

"For… uh…"

He had a point. We were the show. The show staff was here with us, bare bones as it was.

"We need clean clothes."

"I'll buy some."

"The crew needs clean clothes."

"I just said I'd buy some."

"I want to go back."

He groaned again, sounding less annoyed this time.

Our skin stuck slightly as he pulled his arms away from me. Pushing himself upwards, he nodded.

"Okay. Just let me…"

He didn't finish his sentence. Scrambling to stand up, it was the first time I had ever seen him look even slightly off balance.

I blinked, quickly rolling away from him. I had forgotten that he had only been in his boxers and undershirt. They were not by any stretch of the imagination revealing, but it seemed only polite and, in some way, correct to lend him the privacy as he pulled his pants on.

I felt the bed dip behind me, followed by the sensation of the sheet being pulled over my thighs and side.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "your skirt…"

"Right," I stayed facing away from him, "thanks."

I reached down and tugged the sheets further up my body.

-----

That was how our morning shuffle continued. Avoiding looking too directly at each other. Being a little hyper aware of the rumpled appearance of our day-old clothing. Incomplete sentences.

It got real old, real fast. Literally nothing had happened. There was precisely zero reason for us to be acting like teens who got caught.

"Did he ever reply to your picture?" I finally asked between bites of a sandwich.

Despite my request that morning to go back to Seoul, I had looked up nearby restaurants and chosen a place for breakfast. I did want to get back eventually, but there was no harm in taking a bit of extra time before leaving. Just as long as I slept in "my" room tonight, I would be relatively happy.

Seunghyun shook his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen, then shook his head again.

"Nothing."

He held his phone out. I could only see the last bit of Jiyong's last message at the top of the chat, and I wasn’t about to scroll up to see more.

From: KJY get home.

To: KJY [Image]

To: KJY You know I'll take care of her. Relax.

The picture showed my head on his chest. His fingers were in my hair, and I looked for all the world like I was peacefully asleep.

Perhaps because I had been.

"When…?"

"You fell asleep pretty fast, and I didn't think I could move without waking you up."

That explained this morning, somewhat.

"So what does it mean when he doesn't respond?"

Seunghyun smirked, taking his phone back.

"Do you want to go to the beach before we head back?"

I narrowed my eyes at his piss-poor attempt at changing the subject.

"Hyun."

He rolled his eyes before answering.

"He's definitely overthinking," his smile widened to a full grin, "and he might be furious."

-----

"It's a bit out of the way," I said, swiping across the map on my phone. We were done with breakfast and had checked out of the hotel. Without having a set plan to spur us into motion, I was listening to Seunghyun make suggestions while sitting on the trunk of his car.

"Not by much. And I know that you want to go."

No point in asking why. No doubt Soo-ah's advice had given him enough information to build a whole itinerary.

"Sure," I conceded, "though the real dream would be one in, like, Bali or Australia."

"I'll save those for our honeymoon," Seunghyun teased.

"Hyun…"

"For now we'll just settle for Busan."

"A wedding is not goi-"

Seunghyun reached up and placed a single finger over my lips.

"Yeobo."

I made an annoyed groan and rolled my eyes.

"Just admit that you're going to marry me," he continued, ignoring my minor protest, "and when we do, I'll take you on a world tour of beaches. Okay?"

"On second thought, let's just go back to the city. I'm fucking sick of you."

He smiled, now taking my hand and tugging me down from his car. Once I was standing, he moved to wrap an arm around my shoulder.

"Is it because we didn't pack anything? We need swimsuits," he tugged his own phone out and pulled up Naver maps as well, "right? Let's see what stores are around."

-----

"This is cute," I mumbled to myself, looking over a swimming set.

"Get it then," Seunghyun automatically replied, not looking up from his own browsing.

"Eh," I waffled, "just because it's cute doesn't mean it would be cute on me."

That made him actually look up and walk over. Nudging up behind me, he reached around me to pick up the hanger and take a look.

"What do you think?" I prompted him.

He didn't immediately say anything. Instead, he placed his free hand on my waist and directed me towards one of the mirrors hanging between clothing racks.

Still behind me, he held the hanger up in front of me. His head tilted, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he ran them over my reflection. After some excruciating observation, he finally spoke.

"Not this one."

"It's not that bad," I started to protest, "maybe just a different color."

"No," he spoke with a surprising amount of finality. He shook his head and turned away, taking the swimsuit with him. He replaced it on the rack, and started flipping through the other options.

"Here," he held another set towards me, still focused on the rack, "how about this one?"

I took the hanger and mimicked Seunghyun’s action from before, holding the suit in front of myself.

"Not bad," I shrugged, "but you obviously have different taste than me."

"Try these too," he held several more hangers now. Looking around, he seemed to be trying to locate a clerk. "Do they have changing rooms?"

"Over there," I nodded my head towards a series of doors designed to look like surfboards.

"Perfect. Try these on," he pushed the hangers into my hands and ushered me towards the changing area. I was able to snag the one I had chosen before I swept away.

Seunghyun rolled his eyes, but didn't stop me.

-----

"Fuck me," I grumbled, turning around and looking in the mirror.

"What's that?" Seunghyun’s voice came from the other side of the door.

"It's… very…" I tried to think of an accurate description.

"Very?"

Sexy? Revealing?

"It's too small," I pulled the ties on the side. No amount of adjusting the knots would make more cloth magically appear.

"Do you want a bigger size?"

I grit my teeth, remembering a hundred shopping trips from my teens when I had heard that exact question, albeit in a different language.

"No," I sighed, "that's not… it's not small in that way," I explained, hoping he'd take the hint and shut up.

"What do you mean?"

Of course he didn't.

"I, uh…"

"Just let me see."

The door handle jiggled slightly. Not like he was actively trying to open it, but just as if he had laid his hand on the other side.

"Absolutely not. No way," I double checked that the door was locked, "especially not with the camera out there."

"Come on," he sounded a little annoyed, "it can't be that bad."

"I'm not trying to get this show rated as adult content, Hyun."

For a few precious moments, there was silence on the other side of the door.

"Try the blue one, it should have more…" he cleared his throat, "I mean, it has better, uh, coverage."

-----

An agonizingly awkward silence filled the next half an hour. And then we arrived at the beach. It was obvious that Chul had sent the other staff member ahead to set up. There was a small sun shade, two seats, and an assortment of towels and sunscreen.

"Here," Chul held a bottle out to me, "I figured this would work better than last time."

I smiled, a little touched by his remembering.

"You know," I teased, "if I didn't know it was your job to look after me, I might think you liked me."

Chul rolled his eyes, wiggling the bottle towards me.

"Just take it already."

-----

"Don't you want to go in the water?"

I hummed, eyes shut, trying to be as noncommittal as I could be. I was fully content with simply basking in the sun.

Seunghyun groaned.

"Come on," he whined, starting to poke my leg as he continued, "just for a little while?"

"Don't try to be cute," I scolded him, "it won't work on me."

I heard him make an annoyed noise, but his fingers no longer prodded my thigh.

I was nearly lulled asleep by the sound of the sea when he spoke up again.

"I could just pick you up and bring you out to the water."

I sighed, and finally opened my eyes. Turning my head, I gazed up at Seunghyun. He was sitting on a towel next to where I was laid out.

"You want me to kill you?"

He grinned down at me.

"I don't think you would."

"That depends," I pushed myself up slightly, propping myself up on my elbows. "Hey Chul," I called out.

"Yeah?" I heard the all-rounder reply.

"How much trouble will I get in if I fight Seunghyun?"

"Uh…" he sounded unsure, probably of how serious I was being, "let me just turn off the cameras first."

Seunghyun scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"No company loyalty," he grumbled.

"You aren’t the company," Chul called out, laughing.

"Fucking microphones…"

"Go in the water if you're tired of microphones," I let out a small groan as I turned over and settled myself onto my stomach. I nestled my face into my arms, hoping Seunghyun would just let me nap.

"I don't want to go alone," he said, once again reaching over to prod a finger into the flesh of my leg, "come with me."

Honestly, I should have seen that one coming.

"Fine," I groaned again, pushing myself up to sit on my knees, "if I go in with you for a while, will you then let me waste my time in the sun?"

Seunghyun grinned, scrambling to stand up, and held a hand out towards me.

"I make no promises," he shook his head, "but I'll think about it."

I blinked up at him a few times before I gave him my hand. He immediately tugged me to stand next to him.

"Fine," I brushed some sand off my arm, "that's better than nothing I guess."

-----

"Are you letting me win?" Seunghyun asked as his hands clasped around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder. Instinctively, I double checked that my top was securely in place.

"I'm just off my game," I protested, working my fingers under his own, "the ocean freaks me out sometimes."

"Orrrr…" he batted my hands away from his own, pulling me more tightly against his body, "you secretly want me to hold onto you."

Man, who would have thought I'd have to threaten a man twice today?

"I'll kill you," I tried my best to sound intimidating.

I must have failed, since he only laughed.

"There's worse ways to go."

Finally, I got a grip on his hand. Peeling it back, I slid out from his grasp.

I was a little surprised that he let me go so easily. Until he refused to let go of my hand.

"Wait wait wait…" he pulled himself closer again, but at least he didn't try to wrap himself around me again, "I actually wanted to talk to you away from the microphones."

I glanced at the shore, spotting the tell-tale glint of the sun bouncing off a camera.

"What about?" I warily asked.

"I have a plan to get us away from the cameras for a while."

I blinked, then narrowed my eyes.

"Why?"

"Just to take the pressure off," he shrugged, "I know you're not used to all of this."

I grimaced, trying to one-up my already suspicious expression.

"And," he stressed the word, expressing that he was about to reveal his true motive, "I wanted to spend some time with you without us having to perform, you know?"

I cocked my head. That wasn't really what I expected.

"We don't perform though? At least," I placed the fingertips of my free hand on my chest, "I don't."

"I'm not saying it like that," Seunghyun shook his head. "I just mean I'd like to spend some time comfortably. Without having to worry about an audience."

"Then why don't we just go home? There's no cameras in my room, we can just hang out in there."

"Sure, but there's most likely microphones."

My heart stopped.

Microphones in my room? How had that not even occurred to me?

I felt ill. Blinking rapidly, I looked out over the ocean, and struggled with what to say.

"W…" I lifted my free hand to my eyes, covering them, "ah…" I let my hand slide down to cup my own cheek, "what?"

"It's pretty standard…" Seunghyun spoke slowly, eyebrows dipping, "are you okay?"

My hand was pressed over my mouth now. I was decidedly not okay.

"I need…" I mumbled through my fingers, eyes still scanning the sea and sky, "Chul…" I could absolutely not meet Seunghyun’s eye right now, "I have to talk to Chul."

I tugged against Seunghyun's hold on my hand, trying to move back towards the beach.

"Wait," his hand only tightened on mine, "baby…"

It was the English, more than the name itself, that made me pause.

"Tell me what's wrong."

His voice was soft, and he slowly reeled me back towards him. This time he pulled my chest against his. After wrapping one arm around my waist, he used the other to push my hair away from my face.

I kept my eyes focused on some indiscernible spot behind him, still not willing to make eye contact.

"I can't," I shook my head.

"Luna," I felt his index finger crook under my chin, "look at me."

He was gentle as he guided me to look at him, running his thumb against my cheek.

I was back to blinking rapidly, as if his face was too bright to look at.

He, on the other hand, kept a steady eye on me.

"Tell me what happened."

I shook my head, a tiny motion for just how bad the situation was. I couldn't take his eyes on mine. Dropping my gaze to where his neoprene style swimming shirt clung to his collarbones, I bit my lip.

"Was it one of the boys?" He asked, thumb still working softly against my face, "whatever it was, I'll make sure you're protected."

"It's not like a Seungri thing," I blurted out. If nothing else, I didn't want him to suspect anyone of doing something like that.

"Then what is it?"

"Hyun…" I whined, letting my head drop onto his shoulder, "I really can't tell you."

His hand immediately landed on my hair, lightly stroking through the salt roughened strands.

"Why not? What's the worst thing that happens if you tell me?"

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me.

"The worst? I die of embarrassment, you get charged with drowning me, the audio gets released during the trial, and everyone hears what I sound like w…" I lost all steam, not willing to say aloud exactly what was probably on someone's hard drive.

Seunghyun shifted slightly, pushing my shoulder back so he could dip his head and try to look at me.

"Why would they think that I drowned you?"

I silently thanked god for making Seunghyun, just this once, not focus on the absolute worst part.

"Um… well…"

"Baby," the English derailed me again, "just say it."

"There could be a case made for," if I hadn’t been pressed against him, I would have been fidgeting, "like, a jealousy thing."

"Why? Did you hook up with one of the guys or something?"

I clamped my mouth shut, biting on the inside of my lips.

Seunghyun laughed.

"Is that all? You're this stressed because you hooked up with Daesung? Luna," he wrapped both arms around me now, laughing, "baby, you had me worried for a minute there."

Of all the reactions I had expected, this was not one of them.

"Wait, how did you know?" I pushed back from him enough to look up at him, "Daesung told you?"

"Of course not," he shook his head, "Daesung is a total gentleman. I just took a calculated guess, and you just confirmed it."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He grinned, once again pulling me against himself.

"No, I'm not kidding. Yeobo," he quickly kissed my cheek, "you don't have to hide that sort of thing from me."

My mind was reeling. The last few minutes had presented far too much information to cram into my skull. I decided to focus on just the thing that was literally in front of me.

"So you're not upset or anything?"

"God no!" His hands slid up from my waist, both cupping my face instead, "I already told you that I don't care if you want to date other people."

He pressed his lips against mine. He held me there a bit longer than absolutely necessary, slowly working to a point where he could tug at my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled back.

The information, the emotional rollercoaster of revealing what had happened, the kiss… it was all too much. I felt dazed, and more than a little overwhelmed.

"Hyun…"

He smiled, a hint of his cockiness showing at the corners of his eyes.

"How selfish would I have to be to keep you all to myself?"

"We're kind of in public, Hyun."

He didn't say anything, instead opting to kiss me again.

-----

"Chul I have a question," I fiddled with the knobs on my microphone pack.

Chul didn't respond vocally. He just pointed at the pack and raised an eyebrow.

I nodded.

"Let me check that for you."

He quickly shut it off, unplugging the cord and taking out the batteries as well.

"What's up?"

He seemed as unconcerned as ever, making a big show of trying to "fix" my mic-pack.

I crossed my arms, feeling nervous now.

"Are there microphones in my room?"

His hands went completely still. I could see his eyes jump around for a few seconds before he answered.

"No."

I was, of course, not convinced.

"Did there used to be microphones in my room?"

Chul sighed, letting his head fall back.

"Yes," he sighed again, "listen... the recording is gone."

I felt ill.

"How many people heard it?"

He gave up on trying to make it look like he was doing his job. Putting the pack on the roof of the car, he ran his hands through his hair and over his face.

"There was only one technician in the monitor room that night," he started, then paused, groaning with embarrassment.

"And…?"

"She called me, so I…" it felt kind of empowering to be on the other side of someone avoiding eye contact.

"So you listened to it."

"Yes."

I nodded.

"You said it was deleted?"

"Yes!" He was now able to meet my eye, "I promise you! I went through everything to make sure. I checked the tech's phone, email, cloud, and everything."

"Okay," I nodded again, "okay. So…"

What on earth was I supposed to do now? Chul and I weren't exactly friends, not in a way that mattered. But I still didn't want to ruin our little bit of camaraderie. I settled on trying to joke it off.

"Did it at least sound good?"

Chul stared at me, eyes and mouth both wide. After a second, he laughed.

"I mean…" he blushed slightly, "I don't want to make assumptions. But if that was you faking it, you should be an actress."

I snorted, then coughed.

We both broke down into laughter.

After a moment I was finally able to get myself under control, wiping the tears from my face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I managed to ask through my remaining giggles.

"Honestly? I didn't want you to get freaked out," Chul explained. "Sorry."

"It's fine, just…" I shrugged, "it's weird, you know?"

"Hey, here," he dug through his camera bag for a second before pulling out an SD card. My eyes went wide.

"It's not that," he laughed, "it's the footage from last night."

I furrowed my brows, trying to think over last night's events.

"From what?" I asked, taking the card.

"The hotel. I haven't watched it yet," Chul shrugged, "call it an apology gift."

"Oh, there's nothing on here," I offered it back to him, "just Seunghyun and I being assholes."

Chul waved a hand, refusing the card.

"Still, take it. Just in case you forgot anything," he laughed, "I won't even need it for another week or so. You can delete anything you don't like."

"Okay," I shrugged, tucking the card into my bag. "I actually had a different favor to ask though."

"Of course you did," Chul teased, "what's up?"

"Just…" I paused, thinking how much I wanted to give away, "there's going to be a point today where something suspicious might happen. I just want you to…" I pursed my lips, "ignore it."

Chul squinted at me.

"You guys are going off-camera, aren't you?"

"I didn't say that."

------

I was becoming far too accustomed to being driven everywhere.

Not that I typically drove myself, of course, since I had never bothered to get myself a license here. I typically had to plan out trips using public transportation. Sitting in the front seat of a private car was… nice.

"Okay," Seunghyun pulled open the door and slid into the driver’s seat, "I think Chul bought the bathroom excuse. Hold on…"

He leaned across me, reaching for the little camera clipped onto my sun visor. He quickly turned it over in his hands, locating the power button.

He moved on to disable the other three cameras that were similarly attached to different parts of the car.

"Alright," he sighed, leaning back into the seat. His eyes were shut, and he looked, for maybe the first time, completely relaxed.

"I'm pretty sure we're free."

"Let me double check."

His eyes opened, and he looked at me. More than a little confusion crossed his face. He watched me tap at my phone.

"Okay…" I scanned through the assorted wireless connections listed on my scanning app, "your car, your phone, my watch… I'm pretty sure this one is the traffic camera… Do you have a laptop in your car?"

"It's in the trunk," Seunghyun shrugged, "why?"

I held my phone out to him so he could see the list.

"This one," I pointed to the only one I couldn't figure out, "is the brand correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. What about these two?"

"I'm about seventy-five percent sure that those are the menu boards from the restaurant across the street."

Seunghyun stared at me. I could see his brain working behind his eyes.

"Are you CIA or something?"

"Hell no, fuck the CIA," I laughed, "I'm just a woman who travels alone at times."

His brows dipped.

"How did you not know that there were microphones in your room then?"

I shrugged. He had a point. Somehow it just hadn't been on my radar.

"I guess I let my guard down," I shook my head, "it's not like I work security. I don't think about those things all the time."

-----

"Hyun…"

"I don't want to hear it," he cut me off, "I made sure to get two beds this time."

"That…"

"Ah, Choi-ssi," a bellman approached the two of us, "your room is ready for you. If you'd just follow me."

Despite us not having luggage, we were escorted all the way to the room that Seunghyun had picked for the night.

"If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. As for your request at booking, I believe the previous attendant arranged it in the living area."

The bellman, or rather, attendant, bowed and opened the door for us. As we entered, he quickly left two sets of keys on the table immediately inside the room, and disappeared.

I had stayed quiet for the trip up to the room, planning the argument I was going to have to start.

All of that planning was momentarily forgotten when I finally took in the room. It managed to seem both larger and smaller than the first room I had stayed in for filming. It had a semi-open floor plan with the living room, kitchenette, and… I didn't know what to call the third area. It wasn't a bathroom, per se. There was simply an oversized jetted tub that was clearly visible from the other two areas.

"Hyun…" I started.

"Looks like there's one bedroom there," he nodded towards a closed door, "and I think the second is…" he wound his way through the living area, momentarily disappearing around a corner.

"Yes," he called back, "it's here."

A creeping sense of dread started settling over my shoulders, making my skin feel tight.

"I don't really care which room I sleep in," he kept talking, circling back into the living area, "you can have your pick. Oh," he picked up a fairly nondescript bag that was set on the coffee table, "perfect. I'm pretty sure I got the right si…"

Finally, he noticed the tension that was overtaking me.

"...zes. Hey," he dropped the bag on the sofa and slowly approached me, "are you okay?"

"I, uh," I nodded, then shook my head, "I don't know."

"Yeobo," Seunghyun slid his hand into one of my own, pulling it up to press a kiss against my palm, "we can go back if you want."

"No," I sighed, "that… I am choosing to trust you. Right? That's the whole thing."

"Right," he nodded, "but if you're uncomfortable…"

I had somewhat expected him to try to wind his arms around me again. I was grateful that he didn't.

I cleared my throat.

"I'm going to, uh, choose a room."

He smiled and let go of my hand. Nodding, he took a seat on the sofa and waved a hand, encouraging me to look around.

I chose the room in the back of the suite. It had a better view, and the ensuite bathroom had a tub as opposed to the standing shower that the other bedroom had.

After letting Seunghyun know of my choice, I made an excuse for needing just a little while alone. He accepted it easily, placing the bag from before into my hand and laying a kiss on my forehead before retreating into the other room.

I immediately locked myself in the bathroom.

To: D-Lite I have some questions and I need direct answers and I will not be explaining myself

To: D-Lite Okay?

I settled into the tub while I waited for a response. Barely resisting the urge to sit and let the shower run over me, I went for the decidedly less depressing option of soaking.

After about ten minutes, I heard my phone's text alert.

From: D-Lite Of course pet. Ask me anything.

I took a quick breath, trying to settle my nerves and stop my hands from shaking.

To: D-Lite Did you know that there were microphones in my room?

I saw bubbles pop up and go away a few times. I couldn't blame him for writing and rewriting, but it did nothing to help calm my nerves. Finally, a message popped up, followed by several more as I read.

From: D-Lite I didn't know for sure. And I didn't think of it until afterwards.

From: D-Lite As soon as I thought of it, I talked to that production guy. The one that likes you.

From: D-Lite He got rid of anything, and I'm pretty sure he pulled everything out.

From: D-Lite Your room is the only place with no recording tech in it now, I think.

From: D-Lite Pet? Please say something.

I was chewing on my bottom lip, trying to work out how to phrase my next question.

I decided that since I wanted straight answers, I should ask straight questions.

To: D-Lite Am I safe with Seunghyun?

The world's most stressful three minutes passed while I watched those fucking bubbles again.

From: D-Lite The short answer is yes.

From: D-Lite He tests boundaries, but if you directly tell him to stop he will.

From: D-Lite Do you feel unsafe?

From: D-Lite He's just a little over the top. But I think he really likes you.

From: D-Lite If I had to guess I'd say that he really would marry you right now.

From: D-Lite He gets like that.

From: D-Lite But yes, you're safe.

From: D-Lite Right? Please talk to me.

I stared at the screen, letting my head lean back against the ceramic of the tub.

To: D-Lite I'm okay. I'm stressed, but okay.

To: D-Lite We aren't coming back tonight.

To: D-Lite I don't understand what's happening.

From: D-Lite Can you call me? Please pet.

From: D-Lite Just call and tell me that you're okay.

I sighed. In a way, he was coming across as a little pathetic. But I could understand why he might worry.

I tapped his contact information and selected the call option. Placing the phone on speaker, I put it on the tiles that surrounded the lip of the tub and laid back.

"Are you alright, pet?"

I hummed, not feeling very talkative.

"He's treating you well?"

"Yes."

An awkward silence fell. Daesung sighed, air crackling the speaker of my phone.

"You said you wouldn't explain."

"Yes."

"So I won't ask. I only want you to be safe."

"What are you worried about? You said Seunghyun’s safe, right?"

"That…" he groaned, "he is. He is safe. I know he is. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I know that. I…"

He fell silent for a minute. I refused to fill the conversational space.

"I'm not worried about him. I'm worried that you…"

Another silence that I refused to fill in settled over the phone.

"Don't make me say it."

I genuinely did not know what he meant by that.

"Say what?"

Another groan came through the speaker, followed by a swear.

"I… fuck…"

"Tell me Dae."

"Fuck. I, okay, listen…"

I waited, listening.

"I miss you. A lot. I haven't seen you since yesterday morning and I… I just… I miss you. Pet, please understand me."

I knew that he probably wanted me to say it back. And it wouldn't be untrue if I did. But I hated feeling pressured like this, even if he wasn't doing it on purpose.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"I know. I'm just used to seeing you every day. You spoil me."

I laughed, not believing what I had heard.

"Spoil you? How on earth do I spoil you?"

"You just do," he sounded a little defensive, "just being around you."

I hummed again, finally feeling a little less stressed.

"You're very sweet Daesung," I said, internally admitting that I did miss him, "I…"

My turn to fall into silence. How could I explain what I meant when I wasn't sure myself?

"I'm used to seeing you too."

-----

Seunghyun’s hair was damp when I finally traipsed back into the living area. He had obviously arranged a change of clothing for himself as well as the one he had had waiting for me.

"Hey," he looked up from his phone and gave me a smile, "how are you feeling?"

I clicked my tongue against my teeth, trying to choose an accurate word. Luckily, Daesung had given me the perfect one.

"Spoiled."

His smile got softer, and he laid his phone on the table. Leaning back on the sofa, he waved for me to sit next to him.

I accepted the invitation. Tucking my legs under me, I leaned against his shoulder.

"I'll pay you back for the clothes," I said, letting my eyes close.

"Stop it."

"No."

His shoulder jerked as he laughed. Carefully, he slipped his arm up, over my head, and then down around my shoulders.

"What do you want to do while you don't have to preserve your image?"

My turn to laugh. I shifted in my seat, stretching my legs out onto the sofa and rolling onto my back. It was vaguely reminiscent of the previous night. Looking up at him now, even with the difference between day and night, I had that strange soft feeling again.

"Do I have an image worth preserving? You're the idol."

He laughed. Full on, mouth wide, bubbling up from his stomach, laughed.

"My image was ruined years ago!"

That softness in my chest hardened. I tightened my abs, sitting up a little abruptly. I turned so that I was facing Seunghyun, huddling myself against the armrest of the sofa. I may have been a little dramatic with it, but in that instant I needed the extra space.

We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then we spoke over each other.

"What ha…"

"Not like Seu…"

We both stopped, waiting for the other to continue.

"You go first," Seunghyun offered.

"What happened?" I repeated myself.

He frowned, the kind of look that showed shame and frustration.

"I…" he spoke slowly, "I went through a difficult time. And, well…"

I could see on his face that he hated this conversation. Clearly, this was something he had been made to talk about before. Probably multiple times. Maybe too many times.

"Did you hurt anyone?"

He shook his head. After a moment to run his hands through his hair, he nodded.

"I created a lot of problems for other people," he explained, settling his head back and staring at the ceiling, "but I… never…"

I watched him closely, ready to jump up and away it I had to. He cleared his throat and sat up again. Turning towards me, gripping the back of the sofa tightly, he, in turn, watched me as well.

"I’m nothing like Seungri," he said, watching me intently.

"Then what was it?"

"Baby, please," that shock effect hit me again. I didn't think I'd ever get used to it. A deadly one-two punch of English and petnames.

"Just believe me when I say I would never hurt you."

"Hyun," I shuffled backwards even further, now perching on the armrest, "just tell me what it was."

"Yeobo…"

"You know I could just look it up. Wouldn't it be better if you just told me yourself?"

He sighed, again ruffling his hands over his head.

"I…" he groaned, "fine. I got it. There was a time when I just felt like everything was too much. I didn't plan it, but I got involved with some people who gave me these drugs, an-"

"Oh my god, seriously?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes as a small laugh slipped through my lips.

"W-what?"

"I'm American Hyun! Jesus christ," I relaxed, settling back onto the normal seat, "drugs? You think I give a shit about drugs? God damn,” I allowed myself to fully laugh, “you’re acting like you murdered someone.”

I took some time to stop my laughter, trying to reign it in. Considering how silent Seunghyun was being, I figured this was not a reaction he was used to.

“Sorry,” I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check.

“You…” he paused, the faintest hint of a confused smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “you really don’t care?”

“Hey,” I leaned forward, letting my hand drop onto his that was still gripping the back of the sofa, “I’m sorry, I know it’s a big deal here. But,” I shrugged, “again, I’m an American. I’ve probably done way more drugs than you, and my friends back home?” I shook my head, “I grew up in a town nick-named for how bad the drug problem was there.”

Seunghyun’s mouth hung slightly open. His eyes darted around the room quickly before coming to settle on my face again.

“Wait, I… really? You? But you’re so…” his eyes swept over my body for a moment, “healthy.”

“Oh,” I smiled at him, tilting my head to amp up the condescension in my voice, “my Seunghyunnie. There are a lot of things about me that you wouldn’t expect.”

-----

In a way, we wasted our time away from constant surveillance. We ordered room service, we lounged by the hotel pool, we drank until we both couldn't stop giggling.

We ordered dessert, topped off our drinks, and watched movies.

"Baby," Seunghyun mumbled the word. He was laying on the sofa, face squished against my thigh, and one of his hands was absently stroking my calf.

"Yes?" I brushed his hair back from his face.

"Is it okay if I call you baby?" He turned onto his back, hand abandoning my calf to reach up and trace a finger against my ear.

"I know you hate when I call you yeobo, s-"

"You can call me whatever you want," I cut him off. "I already know I can't stop you when you get an idea in your head."

I was still absorbed in the zombie situation on the screen in front of us, but I could tell he was now watching me.

"So baby is okay?"

"Sure Hyun," I shrugged. "Why not?"

His hand dropped to his own face, rubbing over it for a second before settling in his own hair.

"I want to call you something that you like to hear."

I shrugged again, finally looking down at him. He had that familiar flush across his cheeks and nose, and his eyes were vaguely unfocused.

"I don't have one specific thing I like," I explained, "it depends on the person saying it."

He hummed, lines appearing on his forehead as he frowned in thought.

"Like Daesung calls you pet, but that wouldn't work if I said it?"

I fixed my attention back on the television, hoping to hide my own growing blush.

"It doesn't sound natural when you say it."

"Does baby sound natural when I say it?"

I laughed, once, before answering.

"It surprises me," I tilted my head, still not looking back down at him, "but it's better than hearing you call me pet."

Seunghyun hummed, then groaned as he shuffled himself to sit up next to me.

"Baby?"

I gave him a quick glance before zeroing back in on the movie.

"Yes, Hyun?"

"When we get married, do you want a big wedding?"

I finally relented, giving him my full attention. Ignoring the soft puffiness that alcohol and semi-dozing had lent to his face, I fixed him with a sarcastic look.

"Do you really think that we're going to get married?"

He nodded, a lazy smile stretching across his face.

"Even though you know that Daesung and I, uh…" I rifled through my brain, trying to remember any usable euphemism.

"Yah," he was frowning now, raising a hand to wave my words away, "how many times do I have to say I don't care? You can sleep with him as much as you want."

His hand waved again, even harder.

"No, no, that's not it. I don't want to marry you to put you in a cage," he huffed, finally dropping his hand back down. He used it to support himself as he leaned forward.

"I want you to keep me in line. I want you to point out when I'm being stupid. Baby…"

There was no way that I hadn't noticed how close he was. But I didn't want to interrupt his explanation by moving. That would have been rude.

Or something like that.

In a repeat of our conversation in the ocean, he lifted both of his hands to cup either of my cheeks. He didn't put his lips on mine though. He just held me as close as he could without actually kissing me.

"It's all you."

My lips tingled as his breath hit them.

"Hyun," I started, putting a hand on his chest, creating a minor barrier.

He dropped one of his hands from my face to grip my hand, holding it against his chest tightly.

"Yeobo, baby," he sounded desperate now, almost pathetic, nuzzling against my cheek before leaning in and speaking approximately into my neck, "please marry me.”

“You’re drunk,” I pointed out, pushing him away.

He protested neither my words nor actions. Letting me push him back, he ended up splayed along the sofa, staring up at me.

"Come here," he requested, lifting one arm to beckon me towards him, "lay with me."

"Hyun…"

"Just put your head here," he pat his hand against his chest, "and let me hold you for a while."

Despite everything, all of his strange behavior from week one to now, I believed Daesung. Seunghyun was safe.

Carefully, I settled myself against him.

It was nice. Laying against a warm body, feeling his hands smooth over my hair in an arrhythmic pattern.

“Are you always clingy when you drink?” I asked.

He hummed, chest vibrating under my head.

“Only when I’m comfortable.”

Well, that certainly made sense. It definitely wasn't a sentiment that needed to be unpacked immediately.

We lay there for a while. Silent and barely paying attention to the screen. Eventually one of Seunghyun's hands drifted down my body, creating a tingling trail of warmth and chills as he gently rubbed over my back. His other hand remained at my head, now tangled into my hair. I could feel that he was gripping my hair, but not tightly - not tugging, only anchoring.

I was thoroughly tranquilized. Physically, anyway.

"We're going to get in trouble tomorrow," I mumbled, eyes drooping.

"I'll take responsibility," Seunghyun said in a low tone, his hand on my back becoming a bit heavier. His fingers curled, lifting the hem of my shirt an inch or so before stretching down to meet with my bare skin.

His body heaved somewhat as he readjusted himself on the sofa. I felt the, now somehow familiar, sensation of his lips against my hair.

"Is this okay?" He mumbled the words against my scalp.

"Hmm?"

He wiggled his fingers, incidentally tickling at my back.

"This."

Was it okay? Not that long ago, this amount of skinship would have been unthinkable. Especially between the two of us. But he wasn't doing anything wrong. His hand was on my lower - or was it middle? - back. He didn't seem to be interested in straying too far either down or up. It was just… a touch. Another anchor point, like his fingers still wound into my hair.

I must have spent too long thinking, because his hand lifted. The change in temperature was more noticeable than the change in pressure.

"Sor-"

"It's fine. It… you can do that."

I felt his chest sink as his hand resumed its place, as if he had been holding his breath.

At this point in my life I was surrounded by uncertainties, but I at least knew this: Seunghyun is safe.

[mikkomacko]

In The Shadows 6

Niall's car still has that new cherry smell, and the leather seats look fresh, but the floor and cup holders are riddled with articles of clothing, textbooks, a soccer ball, and trash. Most of the clothes are piled up on the left seat, squishing y/n into the middle because her legs aren't as long as Harry's. Zoe's going over the end of the game's events, but Harry's not listening nor is y/n. She's too focused on how pretty Harry looks when he's groggy, puffy eyes and lips pouting like a toddler despite not having anything to pout about. By the way he's pressed against her, lips practically attached to her neck, she's surprised he's not smirking devilishly.

Her fingers soothingly rub his scalp and he practically purrs at the feeling, pressing his nose deeper into her neck. She giggles, snuggling him closer and laying her cheek on top of his head.

"I know he didn't get hit in the head but are you sure he's not concussed?"

Harry grumbles, breath hot on her skin. "Fuck off! M'just tired."

Niall and Zoe giggle, y/n ignoring the smug way her friend is watching in the rear view mirror as she strokes her fingers through Harry’s hair at the nape of his neck. He falls still, most likely on the verge of unconsciousness and the rest of the ride to the frat house is silent. Niall takes Harry’s bag in for her, pulling Zoe along by the hand while she fights with Harry to wake up enough to get up the stairs.

"Can't feel my legs peanut," he whines, flopping against the railing halfway between the two floors. "carry me please? Like ya used to when we played life guard?"

Y/n can't help but snort at that. Life guard was a silly game they played when they were kids in which someone pretends to drown and the other has to rescue them. Similar to the whole knight-damsel in distress thing but in the city pool. Back then she had height on Harry, and a bit more body mass than him too, so lifting him out of the pool like a princess was quite easy. Now though, she can't imagine being able to even lift his legs.

"Harry, you don't have the weight of a twelve year old anymore. I can't carry you up the stairs."

Childishly, he whines and slumps to the floor with a pout. "Are ya saying I'm fat?"

Digging her hands under his arms, she attempts to pull his large body up but fails miserable. "No," He barely budges. "I'm saying you're a twenty year old, beefy soccer player with the build of a Greek statue, and I'm shorter than you with noodle arms."

Harry pushes himself back to his feet, cheeks splotchy with blush and a shy grin on his lips. "So you're saying I'm hot?"

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her flush with heat, rolling her eyes and nudging him up the stairs again. "Yes Harry, I think you're hot." This time, he obeys, peeking over his shoulder at her as he climbs.

"Don't worry peanut, I think you're hot too."

~

Harry's glad he remembered to lock his door last night, because the soft raps against it as well as his mother's soft call of "Harry? You awake sweetheart?" is what wakes him up. But not only him.

Y/n groans as she rolls onto her stomach, face burrowing into his pillow. Harry puffs her hair out of his face, eyes shooting open when his mother knocks again. "J-just a second!" He calls back, voice raspy and slurring with sleep. His shout rouses y/n, turning to face him with an annoyed scrunch between her eyebrows. She blinks at him, confused by the panic on his face.

"What's going on?" She mumbles, snaking a hand up the soft skin of his chest until her palm rests over his heart. It's a sweet gesture and if this were any other morning he'd pull her onto his chest and comment on her morning breath before smacking a kiss to her cheek. But his mother is right outside the door

"My mum's here." Y/n propels herself up at Harry's words, eyes widening as she scrambles out of his bed. There's a confusing moment where they both just stare at each other, y/n in the middle of the room with his rumpled shirt and boxers on her, and him still in bed in nothing but his underwear.

"Are you okay Harry?" Anne calls worriedly and that snaps him out of his stupor. "Are you hurting?" He is in fact hurting, particularly on his ribs but he can ignore it for now.

"M'fine! Just getting dressed!" He picks up the first pair of jeans he can find, hopping on each foot as he tries to wiggle into them. Y/n is frantically picking up her clothes from last night while trying to keep her messy hair out of her eyes. "In the bathroom peanut!" Harry whispers urgently, nodding towards the door while he slips on a shirt.

Y/n follows his instructions, disappearing into the bathroom with him on her tail. She drops her clothes onto the counter, fisting at her sleepy eyes and it's so cute Harry wishes he could drag her back to bed right then. He refrains, quickly gearing his tooth brush up with paste and shoving it between his lips.

"'f ya hear me coming in, hop in the shower, m'kay?" He mumbles through froths of toothpaste, sloppily scrubbing his teeth before spitting into the sink. Y/n nods, eyebrows scrunched in focus but by the daze in her eyes he knows she's still half asleep and probably trying to figure out what the hell is going on. His lips quirk up as much as possible while being opened around his tongue, and he quickly scrubs that part of his mouth too before rinsing his toothbrush and mouth.

Y/n stumbles on the bathroom rug, looking down in confusion and then glancing around the bathroom as if just realizing where she's at. "Okay Peanut?" He asks, using his fingers to comb through his hair that's in desperate need of a wash. She nods just once, a yawn stretching her mouth and then she smiles, soft and warm at him. "Can get back in bed once I leave yeah? Just lock the door for me before crashing."

Another prodding knock comes from the door, snapping Harry out of his rose tinted daze. He cups her face, pecking a good morning kiss to her pouting lips. Y/n straightens out his necklace for him, sinking to sit on the edge of the tub and lays her head against the tiled wall. Sparing one last glance, he exits the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. Shaking out his previous panic, he unlocks his bedroom door and opens it.

"Took you long enough." Jess says in greeting, hovering behind Anne with an irritated scrunch on her face. Harry hadn't even realized Jess was here too, and he tries hard to ignore how pissed he is at her for the sake of his mother but he can already feel his neck growing hot with anger.

"Was still getting dressed." He replies dully, only smiling when Anne grabs his face to look over him. Harry gives her a moment to examine him before chuckling, peeling her insistent fingers away. "M'fine mum. Three stitches on my leg and a bruise along my ribs, that's all."

Anne gasps, as if he'd just said he'd been shot. Harry rolls his eyes, backing up into his room to get the pain killers off his dresser. He needs to take one before his leg starts to hurt so bad he can't move. "A bruised bone? Harry I told you to be careful playing-"

"I was careful!" He defends, dropping one of the pills into his mouth. "It's not my fault the other team was playing dirty! And it's not the bone, just the muscle around the bone."

Anne eyes him skeptically, huffing when he swallows his medicine and smiles at her. With a roll of her eyes, she finally relaxes and Harry drops onto the corner of his bed to slip on his socks. Jess perches herself on the edge of his desk, careful to avoid crushing the loose papers and books he has there. "Since when do you read something like Little Women?"

Harry glances up, finding Jess holding his copy of the book with a smug eyebrow raised. Anne picks up a pile of clothes on his floor, dropping them into the laundry bin. He bites back a protest, knowing how much she loves to come over and move his things and 'straighten up.'

"Since a few weeks ago."

Jess hums, dropping the book back on his desk. "Y/n has been reading it too even though she's seen the movie a billion times."

Frowning, Harry moves to stand next to her, stacking his stuff haphazardly just to keep her from digging through it. "I know. We're reading it together since you fucked up her book group."

"Stop cursing at your sister!" Anne scolds just as Jess scoffs. She crosses her arms over her chest, squinting accusingly at him and he has to remind himself that the fight between her and y/n is their fight, not his. He can't interfere, can't risk revealing that he's in love with and dating y/n. She has to be the one to step away Jess. He can't make that decision for her.

"That club was my idea anyway! And I shouldn't have to do it. Those books have nothing to go with my major."

Snorting, he shoves loose pens and pencils into the drawer of his desk. Why the fuck would Jess start book group when she knew that the books had literally nothing to do with her degree in business? "And getting ya nails done with the plastics does?"

Don't get Harry wrong, he hates fighting with Jess. Hates how high pitched she screams, hates that she always runs to Anne, hates the way it makes him feel. That's his baby sister, someone who's been his closest friend their whole lives. But he knew the comment would provoke her and that's exactly why he said it.

Her shrill response is almost instant. "My future depends on that sorority! That's how I'll make connections, get a job, doing something real instead of some silly sport!"

Harry scoffs, chest throbbing at the jab at his favorite thing in the whole world. It's always been his hobby, his love. Something Jess couldn't take from him because she's God awful at sports that aren't volleyball. He's based his whole life off of soccer and she's treating it like he's some washed up high school team captain. "I'm not in the frat just for soccer!" He grumbles, slamming the drawer of his desk shut and cutting across the room. He doesn't know where to go because they're still in the same fucking room but he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom door.

"Oh of course not. I know the girls that hang around here."

Harry whips around to face her, eyes blazing at the amused expression she wears. Maybe Harry slept around a little too much last year, but he wasn't a dick. He treated them all respectfully, made sure they knew that it was just sex for a night, nothing more, but that doesn't make him or any of his one-night-stands bad people. Sex is no reason to degrade someone and her even insinuating that she's superior for not sleeping around makes his blood boil so much he could kick a soccer ball at her head. "You don't anything about the people I hang around. For fuck's sake, you don't even know the people you hang around!"

"Would you too quit it already!" Anne hollers, cutting off whatever argument was on Jess' tongue. She angrily hangs one his sweaters up in the open closet, reaching down to work on the pile of hoodies sitting on the closet floor. "Jess stop teasing your brother, Harry stop yelling and-"

Anne's scolding abruptly stops, gaining Harry's full attention. He turns his glare to his mother, watching her rise from her crouched position from the closet and slowly turn around. Brows knitting in confusion, Harry wonders what she could have possibly found that's got her so shocked, until she stretches out her hand and he recognizes the fabric dangling from her pointer finger.

It's a bra. Not just any bra either. A soft peach colored one, with a cute little bow in the front and lace on the cups that Harry knows he laid eyes on last night before slipping it off y/n and throwing it over his shoulder. It seems in their scramble to hide y/n, they missed her bra that got buried under his sweater from last night. Harry's ears burn, ignoring the pointed look Jess is giving him as he snatches the bra from Anne, stuffing it in his underwear drawer.

"Harry..."

"S'just a bra mum." He mutters weakly, hoping to God that his sister doesn't somehow recognize it at y/n's.

"I know what it is." She snorts, and Harry huffs before flopping onto his bed. "I also know it means you had a girl up here and-"

"Would you believe me if I told you she just stayed the night?"

Jess guffaws, opening her big mouth for another ridiculing comment but Anne elbows get daughter before she can speak. Harry meets Anne's eyes, frowning at the fake smile on her lips. "If that's what you're saying happened, I believe you."

He can tell by the pitch of her voice that she's lying, but he doesn't care. That story is the truth and he'll stand by it, whether she trusts him or not. Rolling his eyes, he looks back at the bathroom and subtly winces, remembering y/n falling asleep in the bathtub. He thought they'd be leaving, maybe going for lunch but now they're just sitting and staring at each other.

"Should we go get brunch?" Harry finally says, hoping they've both had enough of messing with his life and will agree.

"Yes please! I'm starving!" Jess moans, already moving towards his door. Harry slips on his shoes, rolling his eyes again as she dramatically Yanks open his door. "Y/n hasn't gone grocery shopping with me so I haven't eaten."

Anne follows after Jess, cooing lightly and Harry is really debating ramming his head into the wall but decides against it. It'll definitely knock him out, and bring y/n out of the bathroom, and the last thing he needs is y/n trying to explain why she's hiding in his room, in his clothes, while he's out cold. Begrudgingly, Harry follows, grabbing his phone and opening his messages to y/n. He closes his bedroom door, sending her a text.

To Peanut

Coast clear. Don't know when I'll be back but feel free to stay and hang out. I'll let Niall know you're here so he can make extra food

BTW your bra is in my drawer ;) x

~

"God it's so nice to have those fucking stitches gone." Harry practically moans as he closes the car door, dropping his head back against the headrest. "Were itching me so bad, I swear I was gonna go mad."

Y/n giggles, leaning on the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. "Yeah I know, s'why I was massaging your leg every night before bed."

Harry's smile widens, eyes going moon-y when he turns to look at her. Her stomach overflows with butterflies. "Treat me so good, ya know that?"

Her face floods with heat, biting back a giddy smile. Y/n loves when Harry says sweet things like that, voicing his appreciation and acknowledging her. Again, she wonders how in the world he's related to Jess. And she wonders how she put up with it for so long. "Are you sure you'll be okay for your game this week?"

After missing two weeks of games and limited practice, everyone knows Harry's itching to get back on the field, but she doesn't want him reopening his wound or making it worse by not healing properly. Maybe she's babying him too much, but if it keeps him from getting hurt she doesn't care.

Harry grabs her hand off the console, bringing it up his mouth to kiss the back of it. "M'sure peanut. Doesn't hurt one bit." When she raised a questioning eyebrow he laughs, squeezing her fingers with mirth. "I swear I feel aces."

"Alright," she sighs "if you say so I believe you."

Harry gently places her hand in his lap for a moment, just long enough for him to start the car and let his phone play through the aux cord before connecting their palms again. "You're gonna be there, yeah?" He asks nonchalantly though he knows she'll be at every game. She's even gone out of her way to see him at away games. Yet there's something in him that makes him ask. That something being every high school game he played being void of any family members. The only person who showed up to a couple of them were y/n, always tucked in the corner of the bleachers by herself because Jess had volleyball.

"Of course I'll be there. And then we've got the Halloween party after."

Harry grins triumphantly, "I'll get dressed right after the game and pick ya up? Or are ya going to the house right away?"

"Zoe and I are getting ready at mine. Niall's meeting her there too so you two should drive together."

Harry hums, thinking over the idea. She can tell by the lack of frowning that he's already accepted that plan so she changes the subject. "Is there anything else you need for your costume?"

A woman in scrubs crosses in front of the car, heading towards the entrance of the hospital. Harry's eyes briefly focus on her before his eyebrows pinch together. Y/n is certain she has everything for her costume and she thinks Harry got all his things too. Still, she wants them to look perfect.

"Think I just need some boots but Zayn should have a pair." He finally concludes, then turns to her with a grin. "Reckon you'll kick my ass if I wear Chelsea's eh?"

The unamused quirk of her eyebrow is enough of an answer for him. Chuckling, Harry shifts the car into reverse, extending his arm over her seat as he leaves the parking spot. She waits until he's in drive and safely on the road back to campus before reaching for his hand again.

"Staying with me again?" Harry asks, a hopeful lilt in his tone despite her sleeping at the frat house at least three times a week.

"Fine, but you're staying over with me on Wednesday. I have an early study group and my place is closer."

Harry grins, dimples sinking deep into his cheeks. She knows that he hates having to climb through her bedroom window but her bed is more comfortable so he tries not to complain.

"What are ya studying for?"

"Chemistry exam next week." She grumbles, already dreading the upcoming test. Y/n absolutely loathes science, and even though chemistry is her least hated, she still struggles with the curriculum.

"M'sure you'll do amazing Peanut," Harry assures, having experienced many breakdowns over science work with her throughout the years. "Especially if you're already starting to study. Just don't overwhelm yourself, yeah?"

Appreciative, she nods and gives his hand a squeeze. "Anyway, gotta interview for my job next week so our time together may get a little cut." Harry pouts at his own words, already missing her even though she's sat in the passenger seat next to him.

"Oooh a job?"

Harry giggles lightly. "S'not very glamorous. Just a cashier at that bagel place by the campus apartments."

Y/n instantly lights up, having visited the place with Eleanor once. "I like that place!"

"You've been there?"

She nods, adjusting herself in the seat so she's turned more towards him. "I went with El before one of your games once. It was really cool. And now I have a reason to go again."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows pinching together in faux confusion. "Oh? What reason might that be?"

"Well," she clears her throat, leaning in closer to him as if telling a secret. "it's kind of classified information but I hear they're hiring this really good looking cashier."

Harry attempts to hide his pleased smirk, ultimately failing. "Really? What's he like? Maybe I'll go take a look at this fittie."

His joke brings a bubble of giggles out of her, the sound so pretty Harry peels his gaze away from the road for a brief second to see her smile. "Well, he's not got a major yet but I don't think he's really fretting over it which I think is really cool, because in my opinion, he's such a good soccer player, he'll probably end up signed to a pro team before undergrad graduation anyway."

The way Harry's cheeks tinge pink brings a swelling pride to her chest. He clears his throat, looking a bit too cocky at her response before further questioning her. "Really? Soccer ya say?"

"Mhm."

"Well I don't know if you're aware, but m'on the soccer team."

"Oh really?"

"Captain and everything. Maybe I know this extremely sexy player that doubles as a cashier?" Harry chokes out a little giggle, clearing his throat to gain back his composure. "What's his name again?"

Y/n sighs, pretending to think before gasping. "Now that you mention it, I think I've seen him with you before. He's got a really nice name. Kinda short but pretty."

"Well spit it out already!"

"Oh right!" She sits up straighter, leaning in close again. Harry bites his lip, eagerly awaiting her utterance of his name. "It's Zayn."

"Heyyyy!"

~

Jess never brought up book club to y/n, not even after she fought with Harry about him taking her place. In fact, that seemed to drive the stake between their friendship even deeper because Jess hasn't gone out of her way to try and fix things with y/n again. She stopped hounding her about her boyfriend, stopped complaining to her about groceries, stopped asking her why she slept over at Zoe's so often (Zoe being her cover for nights at the frat house). By the time Halloween came around, y/n didn't even think Jess would care that she had plans with someone else. They're usual pairing up for costumes had been forgotten, leaving her to easily plan out her night with Harry.

“He insisted on not wearing tights, even if it meant wearing a dress the whole night.”

Y/n laughs at Zoe’s retelling of her picking a costume with Niall, meeting her friends eyes in the mirror as she clips her hair up under her green hat. She's in a little green dress, the edges falling in little triangles against her lighter green tights. A brown belt has gathered the dress at her waist, and her curled hair is peaking out of the cap on her head, blending in cutely with the red feather. Y/n thinks she looks cute, and she's so happy that Zoe and Niall have gone for the gender swap form of Peter Pan and Tinker Bell.

"He's going to freeze his balls off." Y/n laughs, swabbing her brush in more black face paint. "But then again so is Harry. He's shirtless tonight so careful if he comes near you."

"Thanks. I'd hate to lose an eye to one of his four nipples."

They giggle again, y/n darkening the black on her nose and lining her lips. The paws of her dalmatian costume flop dangerously close to smearing the black and she squeals before pushing the sleeve up. Once her dog nose has been drawn, she outlines a spot on her eye.

"Harry played really good tonight." Zoe suddenly says, and y/n just smiles because she's gotten used to hearing that comment. "I think you give him like superhuman powers or something because he's never sprinted as quickly as he did today."

She tries to think back in high school how well he played, and while he wasn't as good as he is now, he's definitely always been a top player. His teammates were always talking about how good a player he is and he received numerous awards and medals for state games and whatnot, so she assumes it can't be just because of her. She wasn't at every high school game and he still managed to get a full ride for college if he played for the soccer team. Hell, he was offered spots at dozens of schools and for some reason he chose the one closest to home.

"He's just really passionate about the game." She offers in reply. Zoe gives her a pointed look but says nothing else on the matter. They finish getting ready in silence, y/n completing her Dalmatian makeup and slipping on black shoes to complete her costume.

"Niall texted," Zoe says, their timing being impeccable. "Harry and him are outside."

Out in the living room stands Jess, Tina, and a few other girls. They're all dressed as Barbie dolls, latex dresses and teased blonde hair with bright lips. Y/n attempts to ignore them, following Zoe towards the front door. She's stopped a few feet from it by Jess.

"You're not going trick or treating right?" Jess asks accusatory, her nose twisted in disgust as if she thinks y/n couldn't actually have anywhere to go on Halloween.

"No, I've got a party to go to actually."

A girl beside Tina pops up at that, a strand of orange hair slipping out from under her fake blonde wig. She quickly tucks it back in. "The Halloween Town party?"

Y/n doesn't know if that's the party at Harry's or not, but he did say it was exclusive to invite only and judging by the girl's desperate look, she wants to get into a party she hadn't been invited to. "Uh I think so. Not sure really."

"Yeah it's that one. And we're part of the costume contest so we have to go." Zoe cuts in, yanking the door open. She steps out onto the pavement, freezing when Niall and Harry are already standing there. Her eyes find Harry's right away, lighting up into a smile at the sight of him. He's got thick brown pants on, the cuffs tucked into thick black boots and suspenders clipped onto them. His chest is bare of a tee-shirt, lean muscles and dark tattoos free for her eyes to roam. A fireman's hat sits on his head, dark curls peeking out from under it.

"You're going with Harry?"

Just noticing his sister lurking behind, Harry's easy grin hardens. Knowing the two of them, Y/n jumps in before Harry can make a smart comment that'll end up pissing everyone off. "Yeah, typically friends do things like going to parties together." She had meant for the comment to be more light-hearted, a bit sarcastic but it clearly didn't come off that way by the growl that leaves Jess.

Y/n nudges Zoe fully out the door, stepping to take her spot next to Harry, and turning back around to face the fuming Barbie in the doorway. "You two aren't friends," Jess denies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Get over yourself Jess." Harry practically barks, the sharpness of his words making even Y/n startle. "We've been friends just as long as you two were. Longer now, actually."

"She's my best friend Harry!"

Not sure how the conversation quickly turned to them talking about her as if she's a ghost, y/n nudges Harry with her paw covered hand. He glances down at her, jaw clenched and eyes dark, nodding gently just once. Zoe and Niall head back towards Harry's car, y/n hooking a finger on his suspenders to guide him away too. He takes a step back, ready to follow, but not before muttering one last heated sentence at his sister. "If she's your best friend, why's she's dressed up with me?"

Maybe Harry's possessiveness over her, the way he wouldn't let her finish her own fight should bother her, but it doesn't. It's different from the way Jess speaks for her, over her. The two siblings have got that in common, one of their few similarities. When it comes to someone they need, they're a bit too sheltering. She's reminded of that as he leads her to the car, pulling open the passenger door and helping her in. He even goes as far as reaching over to buckle her before she can even reach for the seat-belt.

But Jess and Harry are polar opposites, even in their similarities. Her possessiveness comes from her selfishness, the way she only keeps things and people for a personal gain. Like a child that only wants a toy when someone else is interested it. Harry's a bit like a child too, but in a softer way. A little boy holding onto a treasure he's wanted his whole life. He's protective over y/n, almost annoyingly so, but she understands why. She's the toy he's always wanted, the one that was given to Jess only to sit on a shelf unit he came in and treasured it. He's so overbearing sometimes because he doesn't want her stuck in the back anymore.

He's just pulled away from the curb, hands tight on the steering wheel when she leans over to kiss his cheek, not caring that she smears her black nose on his skin. She doesn't wipe it away, nor does she touch-up her makeup. Maybe she's a bit possessive too.

~

Zayn and Asteria end up winning the costume contest, dressed as Batman and Catwoman, which isn't exactly impressive until Zayn had spoke in a gruff, raspy tone and shot a trinket out of his utility belt while Asteria pulled off a very smooth and alluring back flip over the item shot out. While other costumes were certainly more creative, Y/n hands down agrees with them winning. She's not even bothered that her and Harry didn't make it very far in the competition. They're costumes got pretty sloppy after Harry's drunk mind realized he's only surrounded by his friends and people he trusts, and he's had his mouth attached to hers ever since. The outline of her lips and puppy nose are a mess, and his face is stained black around his mouth, but neither of them care.

"Peanut?" She hums, not taking her eyes off the detailing of the pumpkin in front of her. They decided to carve Jack Skellington into theirs, sticking with the theme of Halloween Town, and she wants it to be perfect. "Need to wee."

Giggling as he brushes his mouth over the side of her neck where's he's pulled her hood back, she pauses her meticulously carving of Jack's twisted smile. "Then go babe."

The arm around her waist squeezes, Harry huffing as glances towards the back door. The party moves around them, a few people working on pumpkins of their own at the designated carving station, either too drunk or too happy to be bothered by the cold air. "Will you go with me?"

She giggled again, finding the question funny in her buzzed state but Harry pouts on her shoulder. "You're not drunk enough that you can't go by yourself."

"Know that," he sighs, lowering his voice as he nudges her to look up with a knock of his head on her temple. "don't wanna walk by him by myself."

Y/n doesn't even need him to clarify who he's so hesitant to walk by, because leaning against the house by the door back inside is a clown, particularly Pennywise the clown, who she knows Harry's always been terrified of. He had a yellow raincoat when he was a kid and he used to love playing in the puddles in the street, so after seeing the movie and realizing he could've easily been in the same situation as Georgie, Harry's had an irrational fear of clowns.

A bit sad to leave her pumpkin behind, she pouts down at it's carved face before setting her tools down. "Alright Har, let's go." He takes her right hand, staying pressed against her side as they squish through the crowded back yard. Harry's fingers tighten as they inch closer to the clown and she can feel him hunch over, hiding behind her frame. Y/n has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how cute he is, letting him rush into the house first. She stumbles over the doorway, Harry tugging her by the hand in his haste to get away from the clown.

"That fucker was eyeballing me, I swear it." He reasons, lips brushing her ear now they're in the house where a song about teeth is blasting too loudly. The fog machine in the living room spits out another layer of fog, misting through the fake spider webs and over The Nightmare Before Christmas figurines. Unable to stop herself (not that she really needs to), y/n pecks a kiss to Harry's warm cheek.

"Alright, let's get you to the bathroom before Pennywise comes in."

Together they climb the stairs, Harry wanting to use his own bathroom instead of the packed one in the living room. There's a bit of a fumble with the lock on his door but manage to get it open before Harry can whine about his bladder exploding. It's not until he's in the bathroom, peeing with the door open (a habit he's had since he was a kid), does y/n realize how exhausted she is. It's barely pushing 1am but her buzz and the rowdiness of the party have drained her. Pushing herself off the bed, she kicks off her shoes and flicks the lock on the door just as Harry drags his feet out of the bathroom.

"Don't wanna go back down?"

Harry's already tossed his fireman's hat on the dresser and is struggling with boots when she turns to face him. "M'tired. Wanna get out of my costume." His boot thumps on the carpet and she fumbles with the collar around her neck. The room is void of conversation as they both work on removing their outfits, Harry managing to strip down to his boxers fairly easy. By the time y/n has caught up, folding her costume in just her underwear and a plain bra, Harry's dug out makeup wipes and is sloppily cleaning the lower half of his face.

"Here babe, let me get it." Her words make Harry visibly soften, perching his bum on the edge of the bed and parting his thighs for her to fit between. She takes a clean wipe, ridding him of the black as gentle as possible.

"I used to have dreams of you like this." Harry admits in a whisper when she's finished. He takes a wipe of his own, rubbing off her nose with the softest of touches.

"Taking off my makeup?"

His eyes don't meet hers as he continues. "In my room, calling me babe or something. Were never wearing something like this though," one of his fingers tugs at the strap of her bra. "always in just my shirt. And we whispered like this because everyone was asleep just down the hall."

Y/n's stomach tightens, her whole being swelling with pride at the thought of Harry dreaming about sneaking her into his room. She thought about it too sometimes, when they were snuggled in separate sleeping bags in the living room. He always looks so warm and soft when he sleeps that she'd often imagine curling up next to him, nose buried in the curls on top of his head and sleeping for eons. "Yeah?"

Harry nods, lips beginning to curl up the slightest bit. "Yeah. Sometimes you'd just climb into bed with me, let me hold you until the morning when we had to sneak back downstairs." With a tender kiss to her forehead, Harry tosses the dirty makeup wipes into the trash by the bed. His grin twists into a smirk, drunken eyes shining with mischief. "Other times you'd climb into my lap..." he trails off, moving to climb onto the bed. Taking her hand in his, Harry pulls her up the mattress until he's sat against the headboard with her perched over his thighs. "just like this. We'd kiss for ages, until I felt like I was going to suffocate from having my mouth on yours."

Harry's hands ghost up her bare thighs, palms warm and soft. She shivers at the touch, scooting further up his legs until the bulge in his boxers is pressed against her heat. A low groan rumbles through his chest, nostrils flaring as he drops his lips to the top of her breasts. "I had dreams about you too. Always slept better on those nights." She whispers back, raking her fingers through his hair while his warm breath raises goosebumps on her skin.

"Did ya have dirty dreams?" Harry murmurs cheekily, words raspy with need. After weeks of fooling around with him, learning the spots that make him tremble, the noises that make him twitch, the rhythm that makes him cum, she also knows Harry loves to talk during moments like this.

"Of course I did." Y/n giggles breathlessly, sighing contently when he brings a hand to her back and unclasps her bra. "How couldn't I when you look like this?"

Harry tilts his head back up to meet her gaze, cheeks pink and lips wet with his own saliva. His smirk practically falls off the edges of his face. Nimble fingers peel off her bra, tossing it somewhere in the room. "You were my first wet dream too." Harry coos and she's utterly baffled at how he can make even that seem romantic.

"Dreamed about having you since I was finally able to understand what it meant to actually want you." He continues, one arm locking around her waist to bring her closer while the other cradles the side of her face. "Which is why I don't want our first time to be on Halloween after we've had drinks. Want to remember everything, feel everything when I finally get to have you."

Heat crawls up her chest and neck, heart swelling at his words. They've yet to have a real discussion about sex, only going as far as utilizing their hands and mouths, and knowing that going all the way is as big a deal to Harry as is it her makes her actually want to kiss him until he suffocates. "Me too."

Nudging his nose into her cheek, Harry connects their mouths for a kiss. Monster Mash plays for the umpteenth time below them and the cackle of a witch comes from the decorations outside the house, and yet y/n thinks she might be falling in love with Harry Styles.

[monaisme]

Day 20: betrayal

Day 20: betrayal

Sam came as soon as Nick had called.

“There’s something wrong with the Spider-kid. You need to get here and fix him.”

He’d provided no additional background, save that the boy had needed the med bay for a concussion, broken forearm, multiple stitches and a few bandages.

But no one knew why. Spider-Man wouldn’t say a word.

Literally. Not. One. Word.

That had been two days ago.

Sam had come two days ago...

The first evening, he knocked on the door and waited. The medical report Nick had eventually forwarded to him as team leader hadn’t indicated any lingering concerns once they’d cleared the concussion so Peter had been released to his quarters. The fact that Peter hadn’t answered the door when he’d knocked hadn’t really shocked him. Sam knew that healing took a lot out of the kid and he’d be needing some serious rest and feeding when all was said and done. He confirmed through the compound’s new integrated AI system that Peter was alright and left him for the night.

Yesterday, Sam had shown up just before lunch with those sandwiches the kid loved from that little place in Queens. He’d knocked, and waited, and then confirmed again via the AI that Peter was in his room and awake. “Hey, Computer, can you ask the kid if he’s going to come open this door?”

The AI, not nearly as entertaining as FRIDAY had been, came back with, “Peter Parker is not responding to inquiry. Shall I continue asking until I receive a response?”

Sam left the sandwiches by the door after trying one last time. “Yo, Pete! I’ve got a sandwich for you! It may or may not have been squished for your dining pleasure.” But again, Peter didn’t answer. He eventually called out, “Pete, I’m gonna leave some food from Delmar’s outside your door for you. You don’t have to see anyone if you don’t want to, but come and grab some food to eat, okay?”

Of course, he didn’t answer.

—And when he stopped by to check in again later that evening, the paper bag still sat untouched outside his door.

“Computer,” Sam was becoming concerned. “Is Peter needing medical assistance?”

“Mr. Parker is in a comparable state to when he was released from the medical bay.”

That made Sam feel a little better... but just a little. “Has Peter left his room at all today?”

“Peter Parker has not left his quarters today, Mr. Wilson.”

“Has anyone been allowed access to Peter’s room?” He tried.

“Negative, Mr. Wilson, though no one has attempted to access these quarters.”

Sam was not okay with this. He knocked, putting all of his will and determination behind it. “Peter Parker, this is your team leader. I am ordering you to open this door, kid.”

Of course that would be the exact moment some new trainees for SHIELD walked by and started whispering about that Falcon guy banging on a door like a total asshole.

He waved them off, “Yeah, yeah, look at Falcon—“ and then mumbled the rest. “Can’t get his own Spider-recruit to open the damned door.”  

He turned to walk away, then thought of one last thing. “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna be back tomorrow morning.” He thought out his day and continued. “I’ll be here with breakfast at 9am, so be dressed, please? I really—REALLY don’t want any surprises, okay?”

The silence wasn’t a surprise.

“Computer, please set his morning alarm for 8:15am...” he huffed out a breath of frustration. “And let him know that pants are not optional.”

“Request accepted. Thank you.”

Sam headed straight to Nick Fury’s office.

* * * * * *

Sam knew that today was going to go about as well as the two previous days, and Sam was irritated. Nothing he’d read could explain what happened to Peter the day he was hurt. He’d managed to get to headquarters under his own steam, and then provided nothing save for some headshakes and nods while the medical staff treated him.

They never should have let him leave the med bay.

The silence had gone on too long. It wasn’t good for the kid. Anyone who knew him knew what a talkative little shit he was... and that was just Peter. And so, with Nick’s permission to access his personal quarters if he was denied, Sam was going to do his best to do exactly what he’d been tasked with—fix the kid.

Of course, even clutching a bag of breakfast sandwiches from that little diner a block over, Sam had been left out in the hall—again.

“Computer, unlock Peter Parker’s door. Charlie-Alpha-2-2-4-9.”

The satisfying *snick* of the door lock disengaging felt like a victory. He’d made it past the only barricade standing between him and Peter.

And then he saw Peter.

To the unobservant, it seemed that Peter had just rolled out of bed and moved to the chair in the corner. Yes, he was burritoed in his comforter but the sheets on his bed were rumpled in a way that demonstrated a long period of bed rest—for lack of a better way to describe it.

“Hey, Pete.” Sam stood just inside the suite. He may have gotten in, but he still wanted Peter to have some control. “You mind if I come in?”

Peter shrugged and Sam took it for as close to a ‘yes’ as he was going to get, so he closed the door behind and stepped in.

He waited for Peter to say something; a greeting, a ‘hey! get out,’ or anything. The quiet was unnerving.

Sam cracked first. “You’re a tough guy to get ahold of.”

Peter shrugged again, and turned his attention to the industrial grade carpet that covered all the personal quarters.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re not in the mood for a chat, Pete?” Sam tried to be humorous as he watched the boy staring out into the room.

Clumsily, thanks to the cast on Peter’s right arm, the boy got up and turned the chair to face the window then dropped right back into it.

“Aaaaaand that would be a no. Got it, kid.” He smiled, even though Pete wasn’t watching.  “You know, it’s a good thing I’m so unconcerned with things like social niceties and giving people space, otherwise I’d be leaving and you’d still be sitting here all sad and by yourself.”

Peter burrowed back into his blanket and slammed his head into the back of his seat-- repeatedly.

Sam dropped the bag of food on the floor, lunged from where he’d been standing and caught the back of Peter’s head. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, Pete! You’re okay.” He soothed as he kept his hand in place but moved to kneel in front of the obviously overwrought kid. “This is a safe place, kid... even if that means from you so let’s just breathe for a minute okay?” Peter was avoiding Sam’s eyes. “Hey, you don’t need to be looking at me if you don’t want to; you just need to be breathing.”

Peter nodded and closed his eyes and then, in a move completely unexpected, he leaned forward, rested his head against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam’s hold on Peter’s head turned to soft, comforting caresses. “That’s it, Peter. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Just keep breathing.”

He did just that, Sam could tell by the stuttering breaths he tried to bring in. After a few minutes, the efforts smoothed and Peter was calming down.

“I’m guessing you needed a moment, huh?”

Peter nodded against his shoulder.

“Are you ready to talk about what brought this on?”

Peter didn’t respond.

Sam couldn’t allow that. The boy was more than a little upset about a Spidey-shift gone wrong so he gripped the back of Peter’s head. “Look. The being quiet thing isn’t working, kid. I know you wish it was, but it’s not. And I know I’m not who you want to be talking to right now, but I’m the one you’ve got, and I only want you to be okay, you got it?”

Neither of them needed to say his name. The boy was heartbroken enough.

Peter stayed still, and then finally nodded.

“Good boy.” Sam whispered and without a thought, pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He moved then, snuggled into Sam, practically falling into him—and Sam wondered how long it had been since the boy had felt cared for. The boy had his aunt, but since after the final Snap, he’d spent every weekend at headquarters training while his aunt was working the overnight shift at the hospital. Did he even see her anymore?

He had thought he knew his role as team leader, then thought of the man Peter had worked with most and best. Sam sighed. Maybe it was time to throw away the rigid ideas he’d been trying to emulate as the gold standard since his advancement and just spend more of his off hours getting to know his teammates and youngest charge.

Yeah, that sounded like a great idea.

Sam tightened his arms around him, “You know, kid, it doesn’t matter what happened. No judgement right now, okay? Everyone who knows you only wants the best for you. Got it?”

Peter took a deep breath and then whispered, “No. Not everyone...”

Sam smiled into the boy’s hair. “I don’t think the bad guys count, Pete.”

Peter laughed out loud, only for the sound to transform into a sob.

“Pete?” Sam pulled back so he could see his face.

He was devastated.

“But what if the b-bad guy is supposed to be the good guy?!”

Sam froze. “What do you mean?”

Peter gnawed at his chapped lip and looked back to the floor. “I’m just...” he seemed to be struggling to find the words.

Sam moved to grasp Peter’s hand—the one peeking out while he clutched himself tight into his blanket cocoon, and then looked at his face, twisting with apology. “Kid, you are not about to apologize for somebody beating the shit out of you, are you?”

“No.” He whispered.

And then Sam understood. He wasn’t going to apologize... he was going to justify! “Peter! You aren’t blaming yourself for this, are you? ‘Cuz, dude, we will be having some serious words if that’s the case.”

“But—“

“Nope. There are no buts. You were beaten, Peter. You had a concussion. Your arm was broken in two places—“ How the boy could think that! “Pete, I don’t care if it was a damned cop! You are no to blame for... Pete?”

Peter’s eyes had widened as he paled.

“Peter?”

The words flew out of his face before he could think about it, judging by the shocked expression he wore once he’d blurted out, “How did you know it was a cop?!”

“Excuse me?!” Sam exclaimed as he stood up abruptly.

Peter pushed himself back into his seat, trying to escape Sam’s obvious anger, “What? You said—“

“I was making what I THOUGHT was a ridiculous suggestion! Not telling you that I knew who your attacker was!”

“Well, now you do!” Peter yelled back, finally pulling his arms out of the blanket to throw them up in the air in frustration.

And Sam deflated. “Damn it, kid.” He drew in a deep breath to calm himself. “I guess now I do.”

The two superheroes took a moment to settle their thoughts.

Peter straightened his blanket around his shoulders, the wrap not nearly as tight as it had been before.

Sam—he took a few minutes to pace the room before he could come back. He simply placed himself back in front of Peter, though he sat on the floor now, back to the floor to ceiling windows Peter had been so captivated by earlier. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, Peter. That was an inappropriate response to you telling me something that you’re upset about.” He inhaled and then exhaled with obvious purpose. “I will try to control my reactions going forward.”

Peter sat in the chair and looked at Sam with a critical eye—

Sam deserved it, so he waited... until he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore and he whispered, “The cop is an asshole, though.”

Peter heard, and Peter laughed. It wasn’t a huge one, just a huff of air, like he hadn’t expected it to happen. But it was all the permission he needed for the tears to begin to fall.

Sam wasn’t sure that he knew he was crying.

The boy started twisting his fingers together and focussed hard on the comforter surrounding him. “He, um... he...” Peter cleared his throat. “It was a...” He stopped.

“I’m not going anywhere, Peter. You take all the time you need.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, ‘kay.”

“And you can breathe, if you need to. Just take it all the way down to the belly, kid. Nice and deep. You are safe here, don’t forget that.”

Peter nodded again and inhaled.

Sam waited.

And then Peter just went. “I know the cops don’t like me, right?” He finally looked up at Sam as he explained. “They didn’t before—thought I was trying to make them look bad and stuff, I guess, and that’s okay. I’m used to it so I just do my thing and call it good.

“There are a few, though,” he paused to take a deep breath, then cleared his throat again, “There are a few that got that I’m only trying to help so I’d try to do extra patrols and stuff when they were on shift, but especially now after the final Snap. I mean- so many cops didn’t come back to work after... they’re so short handed and the budget cuts are insane! How could I not help, right?”

There were things Sam already wanted to say, but he simply agreed with what Peter had said, “I totally understand that, kid. It was the right thing to do.”

His tears fell faster. “I know! I try so hard to be good enough, Sam, I really do! I just...”

Sam stopped him. “I know, Peter, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s enough no matter what you do, right?”

Peter inhaled... exhaled, then wiped tears from his cheek and nodded. “Right.”

And then he fell silent again, caught up in his own head.

“Tell me about the cop, Pete.” Sam finally prompted.

He blinked, like he was waking up from a daydream, and smiled. “I’d buy him donuts, like if I’d see that he was walking the neighbourhood. Sometimes I’d walk with him.” He chuckled at a memory. “I figured it could be good P.R. for the cops, or even me, what with all the bad stuff that’s been happening these days...”

And then he disappeared into his thoughts again.

Sam could see the memories warring within the boy, trying to reconcile what had been with what had happened. “Pete? Are you still with me?”

Peter didn’t respond for almost a minute, but then picked up where he’d left off. “I hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks, which was weird, but it’s been so crazy that it didn’t register until I saw him, so... yeah.” He swiped at the wetness on his face. “Anyways, I’m swinging around and I see him, so I wave and he starts waving me over, so I go, ‘cuz, of course! And then he tells me that he needs my help!” Peter looked over to Sam, begging him to understand. “He’d never asked me for help before, Sam! Like EVER! And here he was!—and he tells me that there’s a huge drug deal goin’ on down this alley and back up won’t get there in time and can I please just go and help him deal with them...”

Sam’s heart sank as he realized where this was going.

Peter inhaled... exhaled. Inhaled... exhaled. Inhaled... exhaled.

“I went in first, figured I could web up the henchmen and stuff. Make quick work of it, right? But I step into the alley and, um... there’s a bunch of...” Peter was having trouble catching his breath.

Sam didn’t say a word, just moved himself so he was sitting directly in front of the boy. He reached out and pulled the hand still fussing the blanket into his own—then gave it a squeeze. “Just breathe, Pete. In and out.”

He did.  

And suddenly the words were rushing out like a torrent—“Sam! They were cops! And I didn’t understand it at first ‘cuz my senses were going nuts and I was like, ‘are these cops the drug dealers?’ and I wasn’t getting it at all and so I looked at my fr...” He physically stopped himself from using another word. “My cop and he was there... with his gun.”

Sam tightened his grip again. “Breathe, kid.”

Peter inhaled... exhaled.

“He wouldn’t let me leave. He... he told me, Sam.” Peter squeezed his hand back. “He told me that I needed to feel fear like...” inhale... exhale... “like his wife had...” Peter’s chin quivered, and he fought it, but whatever came next was too much and Peter was throwing himself into Sam’s arms and clinging to the man like a lifeline. “I was so scared, I thought they were going to kill me... and I couldn’t fight back ‘cuz they’re cops and how do I fight the good guy—?“  

Sam pulled the boy in tighter. “They weren’t the good guys, Peter. Good guys don’t do that. You could’ve fought like hell and you’d have been in the right. Nothing you could’ve done would have warranted you deserving that.”

“No, Sam, you’re wrong.” And then he wept “I wasn’t there and I deserved it! I did!”

Peter was inconsolable. “I wasn’t there and he trusted me and now...”

“Now what, Peter? I don’t understand. Tell me what happened?” Spoke softly. “It’s eating you alive, man. You’ve gotta get it out.”

Peter breathed for a bit, trying to calm the tears, to no avail.

Sam finally just said, “Peter, if you gotta cry, you cry, but you need to tell me what happened.”

So Peter did, “He, um. He told me I’d, um—effed up. His wife had been walking home from an appointment and—“ he released a gust of air. “She was, uh, mugged and, um...” he sniffed and used his sleeve to wipe his nose. “She was hurt, like... bad.”

Peter stopped talking then, and Sam was sure that Peter would end the story there. A cop pissed that his wife got mugged, he could understand the anger, but surely he didn’t think...

“She lost her baby.”

“Oh.” Damn.

Saying the words out loud seemed to shift something in the boy. He calmed and pulled away from the embrace. “I guess she’s not doing so well and he, uh... he’s used all his sick time or something—can’t spend any more time with her.”

“That explains his anger, but you know that’s not your fault, right?”

Peter stared back at him. “I know the day it happened. Mr. Harrington was dealing with a student issue so decathlon practice ran late that day. I was tired and then Ned invited me over to work on—“ Peter shook his head, almost in disbelief. “We worked on a damned Lego kit, Sam.”

“Hey! Don’t do that to yourself. You aren’t Spider-Man 24/7, Pete. Even he has to realize that, eventually.” Sam placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. “He’s angry, justifiably so—but what he did to you was wrong. You’ve got to get that.”

Peter dropped his head into his hands. “It doesn’t matter. And now, here I am all sad and pathetic because I can’t get anything right and I hurt the people around me. And I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to be Spider-Man when I’m not sure I can trust who the good guys are anymore?!”

Team leader Sam popped up here, “Could you ID them?”

Peter chuckled sadly and demonstrated covering his head with his casted arm. “Too busy protecting my head from the crow bar, sorry.”

Sam cringed. “I’m sorry that you went through that, Peter.”

“It’s not your fault, and I can’t even blame him... I just—I thought he was my friend, you know? I feel so alone when I’m out there already and now...?”

The tears started trickling again.

“Hey, Peter? I know you don’t believe me right now, but all of us old timers know what it’s like to put your trust in the wrong people.” He laughed low, “Honestly, ask Cap if he can show you the elevator footage when you’re feeling a little more grounded. You’ll see what I mean.”

Peter nodded.

“And I also know that you’re gonna figure out how to navigate this crazy world. You’ll learn who to trust... and you’ll be okay in the end.”

The two superheroes sat together, quiet and both lost in their thoughts until Sam glanced around the room and spotted the breakfast sandwiches lying discarded on the floor.

“Peter Parker, we’re gonna start rebuilding trust right here. First thing to know is that you should always trust team leaders that bring you the good breakfast sandwiches.” He got up and scooped up the bag from off the floor and brought it back to the boy. “There’s this diner just down the street that poaches their eggs and it is magical—like Dr. Strange magical, man...”

* * * * * *

And later on, when Peter was finally fed and resting, if Sam happened to request that the HQ AI request access to Karen to download all footage from the attack—well, there was no way Peter Parker was ever gonna feel like no one had his back again.

@febuwhump