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dangans-ur-ronpas · 29 days

Text

Chapter 24

why did this chapter kick my ass?? damn!!!

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

soz for the unexpected delay i was moving + starting a new job + lost my grip on byakuya's slippery psyche

playing with my own headcanons for hiro and his backstory actually. bc. well. the original just is not very good at all now is it

tyyy @digitaldollsworld as always!!

Content warning tags: blood, mention of razor (not in intentional self-harm context), minor injury, nausea, panic attack, toxic obsessive stalker Toko, insecurity, mentions of self-starving

< previous - from start - next >

Byakuya drops his straight razor, and it splashes into the basin of his sink. Followed by a few droplets, hot and ruby-bright as it tracks down his jaw, vanishing almost instantly upon contact with the water.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, frozen, one hand still half-raised to his face, still curved in that loose grip. Then he braces his hands against the porcelain edge, knuckles tensing as he tries to keep them from shaking. The cut on his jaw stings, still slowly welling blood; his razor, silver and distorted, warbles in and out of sight with the water’s ripples, his eyes struggling to track its shape. He makes no move to fish it out of the water.

This was his second attempt at shaving. The evidence of his first attempt still throbs on the opposite cheek, near his ear. Despite moving glacially slow, other hand pulling the skin as taut and still as he could manage, the hard edge of the sink digging into his hip as he leaned as close to the mirror as he could, it was still proving to be a fruitless effort. The elegant blade that his mother’s family had gifted him, that he had been using since he became heir, was now simply too large and awkward for him to use. A task that should have been easy after all of Pennyworth’s guidance was now fraught with pointless danger.

…Maybe it’s not worth the trouble, he thinks, numbly. But the hollow, shattered defeatism that comes with the thought is so unfamiliar that it makes him grit his teeth, and then reach slowly into the tepid water to pull the razor out. His stubble was patchy already, especially near his jawline, and any more delay would almost certainly warrant someone commenting on it - maybe Hagakure, who couldn’t seem to keep anything to himself, or Celeste, who would delight in pointing it out while masking it as polite concern - but, at the rate he was going, he was going to draw more attention with a bloodied face.

His fingers scrape the basin, searching at a glacial pace until the edge of his thumbnail taps against the handle. He draws it out gingerly, shakes off the stray droplets, then wipes the blade with a silk cloth. Drying it carefully, meticulously - as Pennyworth had taught him, ‘it’s as good as useless if it rusts’ - before folding it and replacing it in the cupboard behind his mirror. He dries his face with the towel hanging around his neck, ignoring the way the Turkish cotton scraped against raw skin.

I could always just try again later, he reasoned with himself. Not so much as a surrender as it was a tactical retreat; and the results were bound to be better when he was calmer, more composed. He could still do it - he just needed some time.

And as for anyone who might notice it…

…Well. It wasn’t like he was spending much time around anyone else these days anyways.

—

Even if he wasn’t trying to seek out anyone else’s company, he couldn’t help but take note of their own routines, how they settled into their lives after feeling the world shake around them.

It doesn’t surprise him that Celeste and Yamada have continued on as if nothing had happened at all. Celeste still maintains her airy simulacrum of a mysterious princess, occasionally inviting Byakuya to tea or dinner or a game of Othello, which he declines each time. Yamada, when he wasn’t offering himself up to be bullied and ordered around by her, would be in the newly-opened art room, and Byakuya could occasionally pass by to hear sounds of shuffling paper and the scrape of pens, and the harrowed, heavy breathing of a man possessed.

Ogami and Asahina are similar, returning to their athletic routine, though clearly more affected by the deaths of their classmates. They were attached at the hip before, but now Byakuya never saw one without the other, always in each other’s company, often holding hands - if Ishimaru were here, he might have decried it, ‘No PDA in the hallways!’ in that annoyingly shrill, school-bell voice - once, Byakuya had even overheard the two of them occupying the bathhouse together, when he had passed by with the intention of checking on Alter Ego’s laptop.

(He’d left quickly when he realized what they were doing, leaving the locker unchecked, his face hot and uncomfortable. It was all well and fine for them to cope how they pleased, but couldn’t they have some more decorum about occupying a public space? He was almost beginning to miss Ishimaru.)

…Speaking of Ishimaru. Even Mondo had found something to occupy his time with, these days.

It seemed that after that night with Alter Ego, something had shaken loose inside him, and he was an entirely new person. In some ways, he was even more troublesome than when he was depressed and languishing; loud, piercing, and always appearing when he was least expected, or at least it felt that way to Byakuya. Somehow materializing nearby, demanding to know what you were doing, why you weren’t adhering to some vague, obscure rule that he might’ve made up on the spot. An overgrown hall monitor that acted like every little infraction could mean life or death.

(It was all in the name of protecting the AI, but it was also getting on everyone’s nerves, and it almost made Byakuya regret ever involving himself in the biker’s business in the first place.)

Makoto and Kirigiri were doing whatever it was they were doing. Byakuya rarely saw them, and when he did, he never made any attempt to speak to either of them. It didn’t make much of a difference from his previous dynamic with Kirigiri, but with Makoto, it was almost like a repeat of what had happened just after the first trial. But this time, Makoto never made any attempt to approach him.

Which was perfectly fine by him. Regardless of Makoto’s intentions, his betrayal was unforgivable. There was no reason to associate with him any longer.

And lastly, there was Hagakure.

It’s not clear if the self-proclaimed clairvoyant had given up on Mondo, given the overnight change in personality (at the very least, there was no more need for a suicide watch anytime soon), but he seems to have latched on to Byakuya, for no clear reason. Frequently calling out to him whenever they crossed paths, dogging in his steps like a very determined stray. Chattering incessantly, even when Byakuya refused to deign any of his ridiculous stories with a response, often trying to herd him into the cafeteria so they could “lunch together, bond, maybe share a cup of joe? Even rich guys like joe, right?”

“...Did you mean ‘coffee’,” Byakuya replies in a flat, deadpan tone that was more resigned than irritated, during what must be the dozenth time that Hagakure had intercepted him, and maybe the third time he conceded to the other man’s insistence; if only because Hagakure had been particularly persistent recently, and would probably end up following him and broadcasting to Fukawa or Monokuma or anyone else exactly where Byakuya was seeking refuge, when not in his room.

(Not to mention that he was a little hungry himself, though he could only imagine the kind of common swill someone like Hagakure might consider coffee.)

“Hey man, to-MAY-toes, po-TAY-toes, right?” Hagakure just shrugs, and half-guides, half-pushes Byakuya by the shoulders into the cafeteria.

It’s midday. The place is empty, with even Celeste missing from her favored spot at her table. Hagakure shuffles him into the kitchen, tells him to wash his hands, and then-

-shoves two things at him. One, round, pale brown and still damp, with a slight papery texture beneath the moisture. The other, a piece of smooth, green plastic shaped like a ‘T’, with something silvery running parallel to the top. He skates his thumb lightly over it, and finds the edge of it sharp; a tiny blade.

“Whoa, careful! Don’t hurt yourself!” Hagakure tugs the tool back out of his hand, inspecting his fingers. “Like, come on. I even gave you the vegetable peeler, this is easy mode.”

“...What?”

Hagakure doesn’t explain right away, instead occupied with rolling up his sleeves, tying the brambled mass of his hair back with a strip of white. Arranged on the kitchen counter is a selection of tools, a colorful assortment of vegetables, and a hunk of something dark and pink, occupying the cutting board. There’s already a pot on the stove, and Byakuya watches Hagakure’s hand fiddle with some dark, invisible button across the top of the oven, and a telltale blue flame clicks to life. “We’re making gumbo! And you’re my assistant for the day.” He announces, with the same cadence of a cooking show host. He’s beaming, as if he hadn’t just said something utterly, completely insane.

“...What.”

It’s hard to make out, but he swears Hagakure rolls his eyes at him. Which would be infuriating enough to comment on, if he wasn’t also holding out the aforementioned vegetable peeler out, handle first, towards him. “Gumbo. It’s kinda like, curry I guess? But it’s a lot more soupy.” Apparently not put off by Byakuya’s unresponsiveness, he pushes the peeler into his slack hand. “I mean, I guess I’m not surprised you haven’t tried it. It’s not Japanese, or like…fancy, rich guy food.”

That snaps him out of it. “What,” He repeats, emphatically, with feeling. “Do you think you’re doing?”

“Um, like I said, making gumbo-”

“No, I mean-” Byakuya waves the objects in his hands, and feels only a little ridiculous in doing so. “I’m not- using these.”

Hagakure winces at that. “...No offense, Toga, but, uh…” He hesitates. “It’s…not exactly a good idea to give you a knife right now, you feel me?”

Byakuya can imagine his eyes tracing down his face, to the still-pink line on his jaw from this morning, and feels his face grow even warmer, with nothing to do with the open-flame stove not a meter away from him. “That. Is. Not. The. Point.” He hisses, emphasizing each word. “And - don’t call me that - you said we were here to get coffee.”

He spits these words like they’re poisonous, and Hagakure is still for a moment. He thinks that he’s managed to get his point across, but:

“Aww, Togster…you really did wanna get coffee with me?” Hagakure sounds genuinely touched, one hand pressed to his chest. Byakuya was about two seconds from throwing the stupid root vegetable in his hand against Hagakure’s equally stupid head. “We can have coffee after we make food. Besides, aren’t you sick of the meals we’ve been doing recently? Like I’m not a picky guy, but ramen and bread every day for the past few days is getting kinda…bleh, y’know?”

The worst part of this was that Byakuya agreed with him on that front. Even with his newfound habit of only eating when there was no one else around, or when Alter Ego threatened to stop reading for him until he took a meal, the selection was paltry to begin with and had only grown more unappealing with time.

“Your job is easy,” Hagakure continues, and grabs something hanging off the handle of a nearby oven, and drops it over his face, obscuring his vision for a moment. He jerks backwards in alarm as it settles to hang around his neck, only to realize that it’s an apron - a pale, mint-green thing that’s one size too small, with some still-visible stains splattered across it, and Hagakure had somehow gotten behind him and tied the thing in place already - “You just gotta peel the potatoes, and I just gotta cut everything up. The roux’s already done, so all we gotta do is dump the ingredients in and let it do its thing.”

Byakuya is still reeling a little from being forced (though, there wasn’t much he could’ve done in protest, with both his hands occupied) into an apron. The things in his hands are so unfamiliar to him that they may as well be OOPart pieces in the making.

Besides him, Hagakure was whistling away, chopping meat with the silver blur of a large kitchen knife. Completely oblivious to anything around him; and Byakuya realized, he could leave right now if he wanted, and it wasn’t like the fortune-teller, of all people, could stop him.

He’s about to do just that when the other man looks up, knife stilling. “Something wrong?” He asks, with a tilt of his head. And before Byakuya could explain that, yes, there was something very wrong with this entire situation: “D’you need help?”

“No.” He says automatically, and immediately kicks himself for it.

“Oh, then-?”

“I don’t-” Byakuya says at the same time, and frowns sharply at the interruption. “I. Don’t do this sort of…thing.” It comes out a lot less assertive than he would like, and sounds a lot more pathetic than he means it to be.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I figured.” Hagakure shrugs, as he scoops up the mess of pink on the cutting board with the edge of his knife and drops it into a metal bowl. It lands with a loud, wet slap, and the bowl rings as it shakes against the counter. “No time to learn like the present though, right?”

Byakuya feels his eye twitch. In some ways, talking to Hagakure was more frustrating than negotiating with most white-collar businessmen, and more akin to arguing against a very enthusiastic wall. “I’m not supposed to do this kind of thing,” He tries again. “I’ve never had to prepare my own food in my life.”

It echoes what he told Makoto, that night he dragged Byakuya to the kitchen to prepare him a meal. But this time, it feels much less like a boast, and more like an admission. Like he couldn’t even do this much.

If Hagakure noticed the grimace passing over his face, he made no comment. Instead, he plucks the items out of Byakuya’s hands. “No time to learn like the present, my man.” He twirls the peeler between his fingers, and it spins, a foggy green circle. “It’s like a pattern, you pull the peeler down, turn it again, and repeat.” He demonstrates, hands moving quickly, with practiced ease. “Don’t worry if you miss anything. We don’t need it to be super clean, we just need most of the skin off.”

And he offers the peeler back to Byakuya, a gleam of white teeth on his face. Deceptively kind, poisonously pleasant. “Think you can handle that?”

Byakuya shoves his hand away, his patience thinning to a thread. “Take the hint,” He snaps, reaching behind himself to try and undo the knot. “I’m not doing this.”

“What? But it’s easy!”

“I don’t care,” He yanks at the ties, feels them come no closer to being loosened, and feels his face reddening with frustration, humiliation. He needs to leave, now. “I’m leaving.”

“Aw, Toga, come on-”

Byakuya reaches for the knife, left abandoned on the cutting board, and there’s a clatter as Hagakure backs himself against the ovens. “O-okay, okay, sure! Sure, jesus, okay!”

Byakuya rolls his eyes at the overreaction, already tuning him out, then starts awkwardly maneuvering the knife to try and cut the apron off. Arms twisting awkwardly to catch the bladed edge against the side of the knot. It’s not easy - he could swear, the blade seemed sharp enough when Hagakure was using it to dice meat, but now it slides clumsily against the twisted cotton, dull as a stone -

“Jesus,” Hagakure says again, but less panicked now that it was clear his life was under no immediate threat. “Okay, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I am not-”

“You totally are, man. Just - don’t slash me, please, and hold still -”

Hagakure gives him a wide, cautious berth, as if still worried he would suddenly turn into some violent, knife-swinging killer, edging until he’s out of Byakuya’s peripheral and standing behind him. A slight tug around his midsection later, and the apron is flapping loosely against his stomach.

To show his thanks, Byakuya sets the knife down before he pulls off the apron, not so much as handing it over as simply dropping it in the other boy’s direction.

He makes to leave, but Hagakure stops him - or tries to, throwing one hand out while scrambling to catch the apron with the other - “Wait, wait,” He still sounds jovial, but there’s a thin edge of nervousness to it now, residual after the earlier scare. “Listen, you don’t hafta help if you don’t want to, but like…can you just hang out? Here?”

“...You want me to stay. In the kitchen.” Where it was overly warm with a pot of water building into a steady boil, heavy with the smell of various condiments and spices, and pervaded by a general stickiness on the tile. “Why?”

“U-um, well…”

Byakuya sighs. He’s wasted too much time already. The coffee he was promised earlier was looking like a lost cause, and frankly, he wasn’t interested in eating anything anymore either. It would feel too much like accepting undue pity, somehow.

Apparently sensing his impatience, Hagakure finally blurts out: “Because-! I’m, um, scared! To be alone! So…”

Byakuya only stares. Even with his hair tied back, the shape of Hagakure’s head is still a round, dark splotch, albeit smaller than usual. And it bobs up and down like a dandelion as he ducks his head, hands clasped in an exaggerated plea. “Please, man, I literally can’t ask anyone else,” He begs. “Mondo’s all psyched-out and freaky serious now, Hifumi and Celeste were weirdos to begin with, and I’m sick of third-wheeling for Hina-chi and Saka-chi! And there’s no way I’m hanging out with Toko!”

He doesn’t mention Makoto or Kirigiri. Which, Byakuya assumes, makes sense, so he doesn’t bother to ask about it. “How do I know you aren’t trying to kill me,” He says instead, deadpan.

Hagakure snorts. “Have you seen me?” And then immediately winces. “I mean - shit, sorry - but seriously, I’m pissing my pants every time Monokuma shows up. And at every crime scene, and every trial. You really think I could get over myself to off someone?”

“None of Monokuma’s motives struck a chord with you?”

“Well - I’d be lying if the first one didn’t make me nervous,” He nods. “But I divined how my parents were doing a bunch of times, and they were always alright, so that didn’t worry me too much. And the thing about secrets; well, mine is that I’m actually on the run from this yakuza boss I accidentally pissed off. I owe him a debt of eight million yen.”

Byakuya is certain he doesn’t miss the way Hagakure glances at him then, based on the way his ponytail twitches as his head turns imperceptibly. He decides to ignore the obvious bait, and moves on: “Fine, then. Then what’s your reasoning that I won’t try to kill you?”

“Oh.” Hagakure pauses. “...I didn’t, uh…think about that.”

Right. Byakuya can’t find it in him to be surprised about that either, though some bruised-up part of his pride does rail against the implication that he wasn’t dangerous. Like being blind meant he was harmless, helpless, defanged - he struggles against the implication, but only sickens himself more with the truth of it.

“I mean…do you want to kill me?”

Byakuya snorts. “I want to leave,” He leans back against the counter, feeling the hard, smooth edge of the marble dig against his back. “Obviously, I’m not crazy enough to spend the rest of my life here, waiting to kill or be killed.” He pauses. “And…I’ve been looking into possible causes for my…circumstance, and it’s looking more and more like it would require the work of a trained doctor, using specific equipment to resolve. Which this place,” He gestures around him. “Isn’t exactly equipped to handle.”

The other boy scratches his head. “Um, yeah. I mean I know that much. We all wanna get out and all, but like…do you want to kill someone to make that happen?”

Not in the slightest. He probably held responsibility for the deaths of multiple people at this point, but he had never had to kill them himself, nor witness the moment of their end. Dirtying his hands with someone else’s blood never appealed to him, and it was far more sophisticated to orchestrate someone else handling the messy work.

But his answer must show on his face, because Hagakure nods, satisfied. “Well, there you go! Also, I ran a divination on whether one of us would die today, and it’s not in the cards or the stars or divine intention, so we’re good!” He claps his hands. “Anyways. If you don’t wanna help, that’s all totally cool. All you gotta do is stick around.”

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. But he was getting sick of the earlier conversation - sick of talking about himself, sick of thinking about himself - so he stays where he is, crossing his arms as Hagakure busies himself with the ingredients. “How do your divinations even work, anyways?”

“What, you interested?” Hagakure flashes another white smile, and even through the haze Byakuya gets the impression that it’s a salesman grin. He could practically hear the cartoonish chime of a register. “My current going rate’s ten-million yen a reading, but for you I’ll throw in a buddy’s discount of twenty-percent!”

Byakuya gives him the most unimpressed look he can manage. “I’m not interested in wasting money on frivolities.”

“It’s not frivol-anything, man. They’re a hundred-percent legit! …Thirty-three-percent of the time,” He amends, sheepishly, at Byakuya’s withering stare. “But when they’re real, they’re real! With a hundred-percent accuracy!”

As he talks, his hands blur, moving with practiced ease. The small pile of potatoes changing from brown to pale yellow, to small, misshapen chunks, the green stalks of celery disintegrating under a knife, sharp-smelling and darkening the wood beneath it with its moisture. There’s a steady, fluid grace to it, and Byakuya watches on, feeling a sense of deja vu - faintly envious, partly entranced - the last he felt this way, he recalls, was being a child and watching his mother work in her studio, hewing faces out of stone.

He hasn’t thought about that memory in years, and he clicks his tongue sharply, irritated. Hagakure jumps at the sound. “M-maybe it’s more like a ninety-eight percent accuracy?” The fortune-teller tries, hurriedly. “Uh, it depends on how clearly I can convey it, I mean. Like how good the client is with understanding me…dialect differences and all that, though my English is pretty solid-”

“Why fortune-telling, anyways?” He cuts off Hagakure’s rambling. “I can’t imagine it’s an inherited position. You don’t seem the type to be taking up someone else’s legacy.”

“Oh! Well…” He turns to the pot, scrapes a bowl of brown slurry into its bubbling contents. “It was my dad who got me into it - not that he was a fortune teller or anything - but he knew stories about fortune tellers and priestesses and stuff, from where he grew up. It was pretty interesting, and I guess that’s what got me started.” He stirs, sniffs, tosses a handful of green shapes into the mix. “He actually bought me my first crystal ball, though it was just a cheap souvenir thing. I couldn’t’ve been older than, like, six or something.” He laughs. “Wow, I haven’t thought about this stuff in forever.”

“Am I dredging up bad memories?” Byakuya drawls, and Hagakure shakes his head.

“Nah, just old ones. But I got super into it; started begging my Ma to read me divination textbooks for bedtime, she thought I was going crazy. Dad just said it was normal for little kids to be a little crazy about something they like, though.” He shrugs. Another sniff, a sprinkle of red seasoning. “He was the first person I did an accurate divination for, actually. Like a real divination, not just for pretend.”

He goes quiet for a moment, wooden spoon scraping against the inside of the pot. Byakuya frowns. “And what did you ‘see’?” He asks, though only about half as sarcastic as he intended.

“Saw him in the hospital. And then leaving.” He replies simply. He turns, and scoops up the chopped ingredients in his hands, tossing them in with a hiss. “It was clear as day in that little glass ball, like I was watching a TV screen, except also kinda…I don’t know, wiggly? Like a dream. But I got shook up so bad I dropped it and broke the damn thing, and the next day my Dad went to the doctor for a check-up, and they shipped him to the hospital right after. Some genetic, hereditary thing, they wouldn’t even tell me what it was. I think Ma thought it’d freak me out if I knew, but I was just more freaked out not knowing.”

He reaches blindly behind him, searching hand patting at the counter, the cutting board. Byakuya hesitates, then grabs the bowl of chopped meat and passes it over. Its contents splash into the pot. “Thanks. Anyways, the weirdest thing was that I wasn’t, like, scared he was gonna die, or anything. For some reason I knew he was gonna make it, but I was more worried that he was gonna…hurt? Get even worse?” He pauses. “I kept on doing divinations afterwards with a tarot card set, just to see how he was doing, and each time it told me he was gonna be fine.”

His voice sounds a little thick, indistinct. Byakuya was beginning to regret bringing up this topic; he would hate it if he was suddenly expected to have to comfort a grown man. But instead of bursting into tears, Hagakure leans to the side, tucks his face into his elbow, and sneezes, gunshot loud. “Phew! Jeez, the paprika.” He sniffs, and Byakuya’s unease turns back into a comfortable sort of annoyance. “Anyways. Where was I…?”

“...Your father.” He hesitates for a moment. “When he passed away.”

“When he-?” Hagakure turns fully away from the pot to stare at him, mouth open, before breaking into a laugh. Doubling over so and wheezing like he just got punched. “Dude! No way, are you- did you really think that?!”

“What? Am I wrong?” Byakuya feels his face heating red again, with nothing to do with the steam. “Shut up. The way you were talking about it, you were acting like he kicked the bucket,” He snaps, and Hagakure stifles another laugh. “It’s the logical progression of things. You saw him get sick and die, and then-”

“No, no, dude, I said I saw him in the hospital, and then leave - oh, yeah, I guess I can see how you’d think that now.” He stands up straight again, swiping a hand across his face. “Oh man. No, I meant ‘leave’ as in literally leaving, like at an airport? He got better and swung back around, but got a job offer overseas right after, so he never really came back to settle permanently in Japan.” He turns back to the pot, turning the heat down low. “He sends postcards for me all the time, and he and Ma vacation together every year around the holidays.”

So that was it. Byakuya feels an irrational surge of exasperation, as if all his previous pity had just been wasted. “What does he even do? Your father?”

“He teaches quantum mechanics.” At Byakuya’s stunned expression, he snorts. “What, I’m not kidding! He test-runs all his lectures and speeches and stuff to me, and now I know way more about that stuff than I think most people ever need to!”

‘Prove it’ is on the tip of Byakuya’s tongue, but he holds back. He probably would never recover if Hagakure did somehow manage it and make him look like a fool. Hagakure stirs the pot in silence for a moment longer, before asking: “What about you?”

“What?”

“Your parents.” A shot of cold immediately runs down his spine. “Like, I know your dad’s a big rich unmarried bachelor hotshot, but what about your mom? Ah- ” Hagakure presses hand to his mouth. “She…is she, like…?”

“She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” He replies, stiffly. “We’re estranged.”

“O-oh. Um. I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine.” He pauses, looks down at the tile floor. It was a mutual disavowment, around the time he made the decision to try for Togami heir. She was relieved to be rid of him, he was sure, and he was glad to be out of her house full of stone statues and hollow eyes. “I haven’t been in contact with her for several years. We’re as good as strangers.”

He really should just leave it at that. There’s no reason to elaborate any further, nor does he want to; he glares down at his feet, trying to count the tiles, and watches as the dark lines dividing them squiggle and disappear the moment he loses focus. And finds his mouth moving against his will. “My mother is Genevieve Delasol.”

“Cool.” A pause. “Wait, what!?”

Byakuya scowls and looks away as Hagakure turns back to him. “Like, the Delasol?! World-famous artist lady? With the sculptures? Miss Modern Michelangelo?!”

“Don’t call her that.” She had always hated that stupid nickname that the press forced on her, and so did he, though not for her benefit. It was a tasteless, and frankly disrespectful moniker. “But yes. Her.”

“Dude…” There’s awe in his voice, as if it were something impressive. “That’s crazy.”

“It’s not. She birthed me like any other human.”

“Still! Like, they talked about her in my elementary school art class. Her stuff is so-” He splays his fingers near his head, puffs his cheeks to mimic the sound of an explosion. “Like, I remember seeing pictures of her stuff for the first time, and it freaked me out. One of the older kids in the neighborhood told me she was freezing people into rock, that’s how real her stuff looks.”

“She’s a good artist, but she was an awful mother.” Byakuya says flatly, immediately draining the rest of Hagakure’s enthusiasm. “We’re not continuing his conversation.”

“Right, right. Um. Sorry.” He taps his fingers against the spoon, ladles some of it into a little dish to taste. “Okay, um. Could you pass me some dishes? From that cabinet in front of you - to the left - yeah, thanks.”

The concoction he scoops into the shallow dishes Byakuya hands him is…unappealing. At least visually - a muddy brown sludge that glops thickly off of his ladle - but it smells good, spicy and warm. One of the bowls is passed back, and there’s a conflict of sensation as Byakuya tries to decide if he’s hungry enough to risk it, something that he couldn’t even clearly oversee the process of making.

“You’re surprisingly well-versed in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, well. I get into hot water a lot when my fortunes don’t work out, especially with my, uh…higher class clients, so I had to get used to taking care of myself. Didn’t wanna bother my parents with it, ya know?” He flicks off the stove, covers the pot, and reaches to the right for the rice cooker. Opens it with a sharp smack to the lid. “Like, I don’t think I’ve seen my dad face-to-face in…it feels like two years. Maybe longer.”

He holds out his hand. Byakuya passes over his bowl, and he plops some rice into the center of it, before handing it back.

“I can’t finish this much.”

“Sure you can, you’re a growing guy.” There’s the roll of a drawer being pulled open, then a clatter before a spoon is being dropped into his bowl as well. “You better eat all of it, by the way. Every grain of rice has seven gods, so you gotta eat them all so you don’t get cursed.”

“...What kind of saying is that?”

“Dunno, but my Ma used to say it all the time. Come on, let’s go into the caf-”

He halts suddenly, halfway to the door. Byakuya nearly runs into his back, and just barely keeps from spilling his bowl. “What-”

“Um. Hold on.” The previous casualness of his voice is gone, and there’s a hard thread of unease running through it again. “Uh…wait out here for a moment, okay?”

“Why-”

“Dude, please. Just for a moment.” He sets his bowl down on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s out the door before Byakuya can make any protest, leaving him alone in the kitchen, now uncomfortably quiet without the soft hiss of the stove. He stands there, stunned, feeling a little bit stung - no, irked - at the sudden dismissal.

He wasn’t about to take orders from Hagakure, regardless of whatever weird pseudo-symbiotic-relationship the other boy thought they had going on. He walks towards the door, moving to elbow it open-

“I’m telling you, just leave him alone.”

He freezes, ducking his head down. Hagakure’s voice is high and scratchy with nervousness, but firm despite that. “For the last time-”

“I-I-I-” Someone else stutters. The voice is familiar, and Byakuya feels his gut drop in recognition. The last he heard it, it was seething with malice, spit like venom at his feet. “I j-just wanna l-look at him…”

Hagakure lets out a long-suffering sigh, indicating that this wasn’t the first time he’s had to deal with this. “Seven hells, Toko, I really don’t get you,” He grumbles. “You said you hated him, right? I mean, you said so at the trial, and you did…all that.” He coughs. “He wasn’t interested to begin with, and there’s really no way to turn it around after that.”

“I-It was t-to prove that we’re th-the same!” Fukawa shrieks, trigger-sudden and indignant. There’s a sharp thump as she stomps her foot, hard enough to rattle some nearby furniture. “If I d-didn’t do that, he w-would’ve never a-accepted what h-happened to him!”

Byakuya frowns at that, and sets the bowl aside in favor of sinking into a half-crouch, ear pressing up against the door, beneath the tiny window. What was she talking about? Not accepting my own condition? Don’t I know myself better than anyone else?

“That’s not up to you to decide,” Hagakure starts.

“I-It’s not up t-to you to p-protect him either!” She spits back. “Y-you’ve been keeping him a-away from me recently, wh-what’s with you? D-did you have some k-kind of awakening, or something?!”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my type is none of your business - and anyways, ain’t it logical to wanna keep away from you?” He grumbles, then yelps. “C-calm down-! I just mean - you know, you…you don’t exactly give off warm and fuzzy feelings about hanging out with people!”

Toko barks a laugh, shrill and mirthless. “Wh-which makes him perfect for me,” And Byakuya feels disgust roll down his back. “I-I know I’m m-miserable, a-and unfriendly and unloveable,”

“Hey,” Hagakure says, a little more gently than before.

“B-but s-so is he! H-he’s just b-better at hiding it, p-pretending to be a, a perfect, white-horse prince,” She spits the words vehemently. “I-if he was p-perfect, th-then maybe, I c-could just be s-satisfied with - with being n-near him, with b-being used…”

She trails off. Byakuya fights the urge to physically cringe at the mere suggestion, instead gritting his teeth, nails scratching lightly against the door’s tacky surface. “B-but, he’s not perfect. S-so, that means I c-can reach him - i-it’s possible for someone l-like m-me to actually be with him,” She giggles, and the sound is far too childishly delighted to suit her mouth, and far too chilling to have innocent intentions behind it. “I-I dragged him off his p-pedestal, s-so now I can actually touch him.”

It’s vile, listening to her. The sound feels like a filth that clings to him, sliding into his ears, contaminating him from the inside out. Poisoning him, paralyzing him.

He’s only vaguely aware of his body sliding down lower, unable to maintain the awkward pose, curled over and unable to brace himself properly against the swinging door. He sinks into a squat, ears straining.

“...Um, ew.” Hagakure mutters succinctly. “Okay, first of all, no you can’t. Pretty sure Monokuma would have some problems about that, he’s all gung-ho about decency and stuff. Second, Toga’s still not gonna be into you. You blew that chance when you, uh…”

“When I w-what? S-strung up Chihiro?” She snorts. “H-he would’ve done the s-same if h-he was a-actually as perfect as h-he said.”

The contamination sinks deeper, claws curling cruelly into his chest. I would have never, He thinks through the tinny, lightheaded hum in his skull, but there’s a sickening sense of dread that twists in his stomach as he realizes he can’t even be sure of that. He might have. He would’ve had no use for Chihiro if he wasn’t blind, he would have barely even hesitated if the opportunity was there - to defile someone else’s corpse for nothing more than his own self-righteousness.

He’s probably had this realization already, but it’s revolting to hear it come from Fukawa. He should go out there, tell her to shut up, to leave him be-

“-a-and anyways, y-you still didn’t t-tell me why y-you’re so obsessed with p-protecting him.” She’s still saying, distantly, and it feels as if the door is suddenly several times thicker than it was previously, muffling the sound dramatically. “Y-you don’t have a-anything in c-common, I don’t s-see why you’d want t-to be near him, u-unless…y-you’re doing it for someone else, aren’t y-you?”

Hagakure doesn’t respond. Makes no sound to confirm or deny it. Byakuya waits, ringing intensifying, disease festering into his lungs. It was getting hard to breathe. His pulse thrums in his ears, too loud to think, not nearly loud enough to drown their voices out.

“I s-saw you with Makoto,” She continues, and the confirmation of Byakuya’s suspicion does nothing to make him feel better. “He- he asked you t-to do this, right? To protect him, h-how nice,” She snarls, disgusted. “L-looking out for his p-precious boyfriend, when he won’t d-do it himself-”

“That’s…that’s not it,” Hagakure protests, but he doesn’t sound convincing, voice so hesitant and soft that Byakuya barely catches it. “Mako-chi’s just…busy, right now-”

“Y-yeah, too busy trying to g-get out of here so Byakuya c-can get fixed, so he can s-stop f-feeling guilty - h-he doesn’t want to have to look at him, b-but he can’t help s-sticking his nose in anyways, he’s s-so sweet it makes me sick.” Byakuya legs shake, cramping, but he forces himself still, keeps his ear flattened to the door despite the nausea building in his gut, the light-headedness in his temples - “B-but it’s too much work t-to comfort him or drag him a-around, s-so he has to get s-someone to do it, right?”

He wouldn’t, is Byakuya’s immediate thought, but it’s weak, even in his own head. Makoto hasn’t sought him out all since that night in the bathhouse because Byakuya had requested it; had demanded that he leave him alone with as much vitriol and firmness as he could muster, and as with so many other things, Makoto had obeyed. But while Fukawa’s words are acerbic and biting, they’re also painfully, terribly logical.

He wonders now, how he must have looked to the others. Slowly falling apart, barely eating, rarely showing his face. So utterly different from how he tried to portray himself at first, an ill-fitted facsimile of how he used to be, how he should be; it’s no wonder Makoto would go behind his back to take care of him. Between disobeying him again and trying to keep him alive, the choice must have been easy.

The fact that that choice had to be made at all, however, made Byakuya want to…

There’s a thud as his legs finally give out, his knees smashing against the tile, but he hardly notices. Not while the sickness spreads, a physical decay in his torso eating away at him, swift and insatiable. He’s not hungry anymore, but he feels emptier than he’s ever been.

The door swings open suddenly, bumping against his shoulder, and he sways, unsteady. Hands reach out, catching him before he can fall over.

“Whoa, hey,” Hagakure sounds muffled, underwater. He hooks his hands beneath Byakuya’s arms, trying to pull him upright, and only then does Byakuya realize that he’s not really breathing. Probably hasn’t been for the past few minutes. “Toga- I mean- you okay?”

Of course not, he wants to snap, but talking would mean opening his mouth, and that would mean breaking down into tears like a petulant infant, so he clamps his mouth shut and tries to get as much oxygen as he can through his nose. Slow, stuttered, wheezing breaths, teeth sinking into raw, just-healing skin and breaking it bloody all over again. He leans away from Hagakure’s grip as much as possible and tries to brace himself against the wall, shaky hands against the cool bumps of the tile. Trying to count them, one by one.

“I,” He manages to grit out when he was marginally more calm, ignoring Hagakure’s worried clucking. His voice quavers, and he swallows hard around the shrapnel lodged in his throat. “I’m going to go.”

“Dude, come on-”

He lurches forward, clumsily dodging Hagakure’s attempts to support him, and walks as steadily as he can out of the kitchen. The moment he crosses the open space of the cafeteria and into the hallway, he breaks into a sprint for his room. As far away from prying eyes as he can manage.

(When he opens his door later that night, he finds a plastic container and a spoon sitting by the threshold, its contents long cold.)

(He eats it anyways and scrapes it clean, and leaves it sitting empty outside of his door again.)

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff #thpff chapters #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #yasuhiro hagakure #a little bit of togakure interaction. for the truthers out there #have not written a togakure fic but i think they deserve it. its a good dynamic. it's fun its fresh #sorry i said i was gonna get this out on like. what. last monday?? and then did Not Do That...lolz #i'll try not to make a habit of it (or at least give proper heads up ig)#i hope this fic is still like. interesting. idk if i think about what ive written so far its like...really all just blond guy whump #i mean. i did write it for that purpose. and for tonaegiri. but still #i think the part that gave me the most trouble was trying to figure out how he would react to toko's beatdown #like why r u so complex about it...he's dealing with an inferiority complex + unwanted intervention + weird makoto affection #cant decide to be angry at makoto vs moved by his consideration vs wallow a bit more about his physical state. damn!!!#ended up rewriting that part like three different times and i still dont like it #whateverr im sick of looking at this. just take it sob

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ldhluvr · 2 years

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☆ close to you

pairing: academic rival!keeho x fem!reader

summary: yoon keeho is a menace to society. especially if the definition of society is you (and maybe your math teacher).

other info: this was written for a friend, so the texting style is specifically to fit her texting style. also i think i made it a fem reader? no proper proofreading / editing soz. also ur math teacher is nosy as hell but also i would love having him as my math teacher

Being the first person in a column of students had its perks, because you were the one who got to see every students’ test scores before you passed their papers back. Usually, you were not the type of person to invade someone’s privacy and potentially embarrass them like that, but with Keeho, it was very different.

He was the biggest smartass you knew, and you were quite smart yourself. You just weren’t a dick about it.

But your seating chart gave you the upper hand here — you get to make fun of any idiotic mistakes he makes on his test, and he can’t do the same for you.

You flip through the papers until you find yours, and then his, and you take a long look at his. You hear him groan behind you.

“Just pass back the damn paper. If you’re so curious, I could tell you my grade. You’re holding everyone else up.”

“You’d lie,” you mutter, as you continue reading his test. “Oh, wow, how’d you get number eight wrong?” You reach back and hold out the stack of papers for him to grab.

“If you’d let me see my paper earlier, I might’ve been able to give you an answer.”

“‘Might’ve,’” you mock. You take a look at your own test paper and see you also got number eight wrong. You feel a presence near your shoulder and you realize Keeho’s reading your test from behind you. You flip the paper over as fast as you can before turning around to glare at him.

“What’re you looking at?”

“Just checking if you have the right answer for number eight. Guess you don't.”

“Shut up. At least I know how to solve it now.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

Of course he’s smirking.

You roll your eyes at him and turn back around.

The next day, he taps on your shoulder. You quickly turn around to glare at him but notice he’s rubbing his nose. You look down at your braid that rests on your shoulder. You fight the urge to laugh.

“Did I just hit you with my hair?”

“Most people would say sorry.”

“Clearly, I’m not most people. What do you want?”

He stops rubbing his nose and looks at you, clearly annoyed.

“Can you pass me the notes for 9.3? I couldn’t really get what he was saying.”

“Why would I help you? Ask one of your friends,” you snap.

“I am.”

You freeze. We’re friends now? Since when?

He’s making a (really ugly) pouty face and you feel like throwing up or something.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” you say, handing him your notebook. “Wait, how the hell am I supposed to take notes now?”

Keeho doesn’t respond, and stares a little above your head instead.

You cringe, having a feeling that you know what’s behind you. You turn around and are met with your math teacher’s grimacing face. You feel like you’re trapped in a Disney Channel movie.

“Hope you had a nice little chat. If you continue it, I’ll give you your very own detention slip!” he exclaims, a fake smile adorning his face. Normally, you loved your teacher’s sarcasm, but this situation has made you realize you don’t love it as much when it’s directed at you.

Both you and Keeho mutter quick apologies to your teacher, and you quickly snatch your notebook back from him.

“As I was saying, with integrals, you have to keep in mind…”

Turns out, Keeho’s stupider than you thought. Even though your teacher essentially said “shut up or you’ll both get detention,” the idiot decides to open his big mouth.

He asks you for the notebook again and your teacher stops in the middle of his lesson, staring at the two of you with his same pained smile. He looks down at his podium and starts scribbling. You groan quietly and try your hardest not to smack Keeho in front of your entire class.

“Since you two love flirting in my class so much, here’s a ticket to a room just for the two of you. And me, of course. Today, after school.”

You open your mouth to object, but you know that’s going to make it worse. Wait, what the hell did he just say?

Whatever. Your mom’s going to kill you.

A couple hours later and it’s finally time for your first detention. If only he’d given you detention tomorrow so you could’ve explained that you didn’t interact with him that second time.

Whatever, it’s probably already on your record already.

Fuck Keeho.

Speaking of the boy, he’s seated in your usual class seat.

You give him a weird look and sit at the desk closest to the door. He gets up from his (read: your) seat and sits at the desk closest to yours.

You roll your eyes. “Just stay away from me. Because your idiotic self couldn’t pay attention in class, I’m stuck in detention. This is on my record because you didn’t take notes like you should’ve.” You pull out your computer from your backpack and decide to do homework.

Your math teacher still hasn’t arrived.

You take a quick glance at Keeho’s face and he looks kind of… hurt. When he realizes you saw him, he hides whatever the expression was with a smirk. “Ouch, that really hurt,” he says in the most sarcastic tone you’ve heard. He moves closer to you. “You know—“

Your teacher walks into the room and raises an eyebrow at the two of you. Keeho immediately moves positions and sits like a normal smartass.

Your teacher starts working at his desk. At the same time, you’re handed a post-it note.

“Excuse me? Also I know the post-it note’s from you dumbass, you don’t need to write your name on it. You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” You’ve already spoken before you remember where you are, and at this point, you don’t care.

“Actually, I’m not. From our grades, we’re relatively the same intelligence-wise, so if you’re calling me stupid, you’re calling yourself stupid too.”

“Math grades aren’t everything, dipshit. Also, did you just try to use the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback without using the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Hey, guys, I was joking when I said you can flirt in here, you’re supposed to be quiet. So please be. And do work — please do not just text each other or something,” your teacher sighs, running his hand through his hair.

You could’ve sworn he muttered something about “not being paid enough for this.”

Your phone lights up and you’re once again reminded that Yoon Keeho is actually the biggest idiot you know.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ ok so back to what i was saying

YOU how dumb are you

YOU he literally just said “don’t just text each other” and you’re literally texting me

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re texting back

YOU oh my God how are you in eleventh grade right now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ same way you are, sweetheart

You almost shriek and then (luckily) remember where you are. You turn to look at Keeho, and he’s already looking at you. Sometimes, it feels like his smirk is glued to his face.

YOU I don’t think we’re close enough for you to call me sweetheart

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d disagree with you there

YOU oh?

YOU okay, then tell me. how close are we?

YOU in your opinion, of course

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say about a foot

You roll your eyes and turn off your phone, going back to your work. A couple of minutes later and your phone (finally) lights up with another text.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine sorry

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you my friend today

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say we’re that close

YOU and friends call each other sweetheart?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i mean why not?

YOU ugh why are you so difficult all the time

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine fine

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ hey, wait i never said i called you sweetheart because we’re friends YOU okay so then why'd you call me sweetheart

YOU and please be quick with your answer

YOU I could have gotten the math homework done by now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you sweetheart because i wanted to be closer

YOU closer than a foot?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re the one being difficult now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i wanted to be closer than friends

You set your phone down with a thud. You half-expected his text, but the other half of you feels giddy with surprise seeing the message. This time, when you look at him, he’s not looking at you. In fact, his eyes are trained on his phone screen, and you can see a faint redness in his cheeks.

You tap his shoulder to get his attention. He doesn’t respond. You tap him again. He still doesn’t move an inch. You look back down at the conversation. You squint your eyes at the screen. Wait a second.

YOU wanted?

You look back at him. He finally looks back up at you. The second your eyes meet, he looks back at his phone. The text bubble appears, then disappears.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ *want

You try to fight it, but you can’t help but grinning. You pinch him and he yelps, attracting the attention of your teacher. You put on your best goody-two-shoes smile and he looks away.

“You like me?” you whisper. “Hey, Keeho, you in there?” You tap him again. He remains still.

You sit back in your seat.

YOU never thought I’d see the day where Yoon Keeho was rendered speechless

YOU especially by little old me

YOU also Keeho if you’re not gonna let me speak to you, why’d you tell me?

He doesn’t text his response. He, instead, decides to finally look you in the eye.

You look at your teacher and look back at Keeho.

You can’t say it, because it’d be horribly embarrassing for your teacher to hear, so you instead mouth the words.

“I like you too,” a voice rings out, and it’s not your own.

You look at the direction it came from and notice your math teacher grimacing.

“Guys, come on. You’re not subtle; you text kind of loudly. But it’s nice that you guys have sorted out whatever your feelings are. I hope this means you’ll stop interrupting my class with your… conversations.”

You feel like dissolving right then and there. You look at Keeho, and he looks as mortified as you are.

“You know what? You guys are my best students anyway, get out of here and have your teenage fun, I don’t know. I won’t put the detention on your transcripts. I didn’t have the best day today and you kids having your conversation in the middle of one of the harder concepts in the class was kind of the icing on the cake. Sorry for taking it out on you. I’ll give you free As on the next pop quiz. Not like you wouldn’t get them anyway.”

He smiles at you both — a genuine one this time — and waves.

You immediately start packing and head out.

You start walking to the front of the school when a hand tugs you back. You bump into Keeho, who looks down at you with his signature smirk. You turn around to properly face him.

“So…. you like me? At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” He shrugs, a playful look in his eyes.

“This coming from the one who… what was it? Wanted to be close enough to me to call me sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, stepping towards you. “You got it right.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes. “I’d say you’re pretty close. Much closer than a foot.”

He throws his head back and laughs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re so annoying,” he sighs. He leans in, and suddenly, he’s as close as he can possibly be, lips on yours.

#keeho x reader #yoon keeho x reader #yoon keeho #keeho #keeho imagines #keeho fluff #keeho scenarios #p1harmony #p1harmony fics #p1harmony blurb #keeho blurb #p1h #gonna be so fr w/ u rn idek keeho that well #my friend just rlly wanted a fic for him

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prettyrealm · 1 year

Note

if you don’t mind me asking how do you know you and melody are soulmates? through tarot?

[insert tokyo toni “wellll, sorta kinda!” video]

Before I was close to her, I actually got a personality reading that was interrupted. The reader said there was someone in my life (and described melody exactly lol) that I would become closer to and that it would be extremely healing for both of us. I don’t wanna go into detail about exactly what it said, but it was basically like “the most perfect smartest and most caring friend you could ever ask for is right in front of you and don’t even worry about trying to make her like you or putting in too much effort because it will happen naturally.” At the time, I honestly didn’t see it happening and kind of brushed it off (especially since I was new to tarot and everything at the time) and I never told her about that part of the reading. But before I knew it, we were talking every day for multiple hours a day and pretty much shutting everyone else out 😅 When we couldn’t see each other we were texting or on the phone. We didn’t even notice how co-dependant we became either and I didn’t even notice how TRUE the reading was because it happened so slowly? I didn’t fight it but I didn’t really go for it either. I just wanted to talk to her about anything and everything all the time and she felt the same 😭 which was also pretty weird because neither of us were ever like that before hand - ESPECIALLY not her. There’s this song lyric we always say “that’s us!” every time we hear it. It’s “you’re cold and I burn, I guess I never learn” because she’s usually pretty cold (while I’m warm) but she can’t help but be warm towards me 💁🏽‍♀️💋 I always wish I could connect with that reader again and tell her how accurate the reading was and how right she was about the connection changing both of our lives.

Anyway, since then, we’ve gotten a few compatibility and dynamic readings and even have pulled cards for ourselves and it’s pretty much always said or implied that the connection is divine, meant to be and lifelong. Forever friends for sure. One reader even told us that there are two paths our friendship can take due to us being so different, but not to worry because both are so overwhelmingly positive. But besides that, I think even if we weren’t so spiritual we would just know. We’ve talked about it a lot and both agree that this is something we’ve never felt before with anyone. A connection we never even imagined or thought of being possible. Sometimes, we even watch shows or movies or even see peoples actual relationships (celebrities and real people)(soz😬) or even posts on twitter people make about their relationships or relationship goals and think “umm… why are we closer than them?” “NO SHADE, but how are they married but we’re closer and love each other more” “they begging for their friend or partner to do this but we already move that way 🤭🫣” we don’t even mean to be mean or douchey about it, but it’s a connection that we can’t help but feel arrogant about. I don’t think I’ve ever been more confident in anything or loved anyone more. Mutual obsession is super fun honestly. I know she’ll always have my back and I’ll always have hers and we never run out of things to talk about. Never run out of gifts to give. Never run out of nice words to say to each other. And it’ll never feel the same with anyone else 🥺💗 Platonically in love to be honest.

Sorry this was so long winded, as you can see I really am obsessed with her 😣 but the short answer is yes! But we would have known regardless lol

#dreamofmetoday #my bestie my love my everything #btw she still tells me off to this day for originally brushing the reading off lol #personal #answered

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humanpurposes · 1 month

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just for a moment was the reason I found you. when I finished it I was angry and bawling and couldn’t believe you ended it that way( it took me a long think to see how beautiful their love was and eventually be okay w the ending). I couldn’t bring myself to read anything else by you bc I thought they’d all be angsty lol but here I am today and you are one of my favorite writers on here 🫶🏼

Aw thank you!! Glad you could get past that ending haha. I do love angst to be fair but not all my fics are as traumatising as Just For A Moment 🫶

Thinking about that fic STILL hurts me omg 🥲 The tragedy is that Tom and Kitty never reach their full potential, they get glimpses of a relationship and a domestic life together and then it’s taken away from them. But then I found the ending so cathartic to write, because life goes on for Kitty. She has to process Tom’s death while taking on the responsibility of raising Vera and that gives her something to focus on, someone to put her love into. I like to think that when someone is gone you don’t lose that love when they’ve shaped who you are and you have so many memories of that person. Ultimately her love for Tom is what drives her to carry on and live her life without him.

Soz for rambling but thank you so much for reaching out!! 💖💖💖

#inbox

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punkscowardschampions · 8 months

Text

Sylke pt.4

Jake: [Okay so, we know what the vibe is here until y’all inevitably crash, not at all casual loop of that scene 5ever which nobody is soz about, will you get to the end ever again, who knows? But not tonight clearly, anyway, it makes sense to skip to him showing up at her house at the o’clock they agreed]

Sylvie: [me like I hope you’ve got your TV volume turned down very low or your entire family is gonna know you’re watching what is clearly some kind of smutty scene as well as so many times that it would be ALARMING lmao, soz fam but byeeeee now, here trying to make yourself look hot for this boy without doing too damn much for what is y’all staying in on a school day, even though we all know what’s up]

Jake: [I wholeheartedly imagine his sister or China or both had to kick his ass to get him to even wake up when the alarm was popping off cos a late night was had, I sure hope your phone or whatever you were playing that film on died so it wasn’t still looping haha, so then he had an argument with his sister/China/both being like I’m not going flops and dragged himself out only when it was time for him to walk to hers and yet he still looks the same as always, which is hot if you’re into it, me like I hope you showered sir if y’all are gonna be hooking up on this day]

Sylvie: [just boy things, truly but clearly we are into it and there’s no denying that when we open this door to let you in and are giving you the LOOKIEST LOOK ever because we’re not about to pretend last night didn’t happen here, so we can, gesturing him in the door with all the !! nerves and energy]

Jake: [in a parallel to the other day throw your bag down immediately (cos we know you’ve bought drinks if nothing else) and throw your jacket down on the floor next to it after shrugging out of it, all without breaking the LOOK, because can’t pretend last night didn’t happen when you were so into it and have clearly been thinking about it and her the whole walk here, even if that was your intention]

Sylvie: [‘have you bought me more homework?’ with a smirk, even though we’re also not looking away to look at this bag serious because imagine if you really did just have a little study sesh, whatever does or doesn’t go down, certainly not the vibe, walk through to the lounge, having to take your eyes off him to not trip only before you’re right back there ‘what was your excuse?’ because clearly tomeena have let you have this week off because of Sam but he’s not got that excuse yet]

Jake: [the way he’s smiling so mischievously at her smirk and the way he’s watching her walk through, not at all subtly checking her out the entire time ‘late night’ because he’s that bitch who tells enough truth that it doesn’t seem like he’s lying, we’ve all noticed, sitting deliberately on the sofa where she sat last night judging from the angles etc in that content, he’s gotta ‘I couldn’t sleep’]

Sylvie: [when you’re already LOOKING at him so the LOOk you must do about what he’s said is basically a doubletake, very much grinning back at you with that mischievous energy like you’re children who got away with something because you are, throwing yourself onto the sofa next to him in a way that’s meant to give platonic and casual like don’t mind me but you already want to be that close to him so you are, laying your head in his lap and having your feet up the back of the sofa ‘we can always have an afternoon nap’ poking, but so gently, the bags under his eyes]

Jake: [getting more comfy also deliberately, really wanna be sat right where she was sat, feeling it, giving her as big of a LOOK down at her in his lap as he pulls her into him making sure she’s super comfy too and STROKES her hair with so much !! making a noise of agreement just cos he wants and needs to make a bit of a noise about where she is]

Sylvie: [truly hope you didn’t make a wet patch and this sofa escaped your antics because you were being feral and you wouldn’t have noticed nor cared, thank god for the dogs to blame for such incidents if anyone even notices, here now doing your own little squeak of !! at the everything that is happening, turning it into a happy sigh as you stroke his cheek before taking your hand away, finally]

Jake: [he’s hoping you did and he’s now sat in it, soz fam but we are feral, hence can’t help lowkey pulling her hair about the little squeak she let out because !! taking a deep breath because he feels like he’s already breathing insanely but then being like actually fuck it and breathing on whatever exposed skin of hers is nearest to him rn without having to do a crazy lean down or anything yet]

Sylvie: [the turned on laugh because he remembered and it’s ridiculous how badly you want this and have been thinking about it since last night, propping yourself up so you are, dangerously, more face to face than you being all the way down there and he has more options, hugging into him again from this new position, so you can do your own breathing and !! into his neck and put your arms around his shoulders]

Jake: [shamelessly committing to pulling her fully into a sitting position in his lap so they are the most face to face they can be, holding onto her so tightly and dramatically while he breathes onto her neck and collar bone and in her ear and her face, nbd, just all the places he could possibly want to]

Sylvie: [cannot and will not be keeping the ‘FUCK’ you moan as you settle into his lap from spilling out, near enough into his ear at this point, only putting any distance in how close your faces are together when you want to watch his breathing and match yours to his so you’re doing the in and out thing in the most extra way]

Jake: [likewise will not even try and stifle the noise he makes in response to that moan in any way at all, like, we could call it a GASP but it’s more extra than that truly, there’s some sound with it, moving as if like he’s again just making sure they’re both comfy as she settles in his lap but really we just had to, having the most fun ever blowing her hair over her face and then blowing it away again too, don’t mind us]

Sylvie: [taking your chance to have your hands all up in his hair, doing tugs with your inhales, shaking your head at how adorable he’s being, doing little circles with your hips on your exhales, keeping it slow and steady, unlike your breaths that are getting more out of control lowkey]

Jake: [hitting her with the biggest LOOK because of her hair antics cos we’re so about it, when you think that your lightheadedness and dizziness is because you’re breathing insanely and the effect she has on you and not because of the looming seizure we’re gonna cockblock y’all with on this day whenever we see fit, and you can’t bring yourself to care because you’re so in the moment, saying her name which is actually the 2nd half of it nickname he has given her now they are besties in the most indecent way, basically whispered in her ear, because you’ve never been able to say it before and you’re so !! by everything she’s doing]

Sylvie: [oh lads, soz we gotta do it to yous, not that you know right now so not a care in the world as you’re running your fingers down the side of his neck before your licking the same trail because he used your name/nickname and you are far from okay about it, squeezing your legs around him like you need to hold on, doing the tiniest bite at the base of his throat, not marking him ofc]

Jake: [we simply must, not just as a cockblock but as a bonding moment because peak vulnerability in her actually seeing him like this and not being freaked out like his friends were when they saw the first one or grossed out because he’s definitely gonna piss himself that’s often a thing, but for rn I will let you live boy, do the best moan ever before you grab her face and drag it back to yours, giving her a final LOOK before you go in for a kiss because I’m gonna let y’all have at least this before I ruin it all]

Sylvie: [it’s very valid and needs to happen but you also need to have your first kiss redux because you barely got to respond last time and you have to give it your everything this time as a result, just here putting all your pent up desire from what y’all did last night into this, your hands going under his shirt to feel his skin, to grab at him mindlessly as you’re really blatantly crashing your body against his in this kiss]

Jake: [mhmm, we gotta let you have a makeout sesh with an intensity the likes of which neither of you have felt before and which will only be topped by the post song reveal makeout sesh, it’s the law, so he’s likewise giving it his absolute all, catch him fully just taking off whatever top she’s wearing regardless of the number of layers or not, he simply doesn’t care either way, and bruising her like he said he would with his own grabbing of her wherever is the most movie inspo vibes]

Sylvie: [when you watched that so many times you could replay it moment for moment without even realising you were, moaning his name into his mouth, pulling his lip into yours and sucking on it so insistently as you unhook your bra and let it fall away to the floor]

Jake: [me like, dogs wherever you are, stay away and don’t come in and lick a nip or something, now is not the time sirs, when you pull away to LOOK at her braless because wanna see her and commit this memory but then you realise you can’t hear her properly or breathe properly in a way that isn’t just !! cos you feel v weird, but obvs you also can’t speak properly to tell her any of this because so many seizure symptoms and they are all such fun]

Sylvie: [the beat between letting him LOOK at you and enjoying how that feels and realising he doesn’t feel right and THEN realising that this is about to be a seizure, good thing you have had time to look it up and not feel panicked as all hell making you a hindrance more than a help, slowly getting yourself off and out his lap and smiling at him in that it’s okay way, kind of pointing at the sofa or the floor because he can decide where he wants to be but we don’t want to overwhelm you with options or lots of words right now]

Jake: [thank god they have had that convo of what to do and not and she’s had time to do some research or we’d truly be dropping y’all in at the deep end here, probably get on the floor so you don’t roll off the sofa when you’re mid and convulsing because you could hurt yourself and nobody needs that, also nobody needs you pissing yourself on said sofa either not that it would be your fault but it’d still be a ballache for the fam, don’t mind us, we’ll just be here having a seizure, it’s not fine but it’s fine, casually the longest 2 minutes of both y’all’s lives]

Sylvie: [I think the floor is the safest bet although you can always injure yourself, we’ll be putting all the pillows and soft furnishings under your head to minimise the main risk, very unpleasant for y’all but the NHS website has a whole list of things you can look out for to tell the person what the seizure was like when they come back around so at least you can do that to not feel totally helpless, just waiting until the convulsions stop so you can recovery position this and come at him like hey, how are you feeling now]

Jake: [we stan a helpful queen, your mother and sister would be FUMING if you hurt yourself, though again can’t be helped and nobody’s fault they’re just beside themselves at all times atm, and also he won’t remember a thing about this and just be lying here in confusion because most peeps don’t so it’s good to know some deets as this is the first time he’d really have any cos of keeping it under wraps, again, don’t mind him just reaching for her, it’s FINE, we’re all fine about it]

Sylvie: [moving so you’re kneeled more directly beside his head because you would have been giving him space there but now you can be closer and comfort him, gently patting his head as a welcome back and soothing it’s okay in one ‘don’t rush’]

Jake: [stick your tongue out at her in a playful manner and a ow look at this shit all in one because obvs you bit your tongue how could you not, finding her other hand and holding it even though you feel all weak and like you barely can because gotta say all the things you cannot with this gesture like thanks for being here and not freaking out and taking care of me and not being grossed out and sorry we got cockblocked by this and ILY basically]

Sylvie: [doing a pout like poor you but obviously we are actually sympathetic even if we’re playing it down not to be a drama queen about this, hence kissing our fingers and tapping your bitten tongue to make it better, laying down besides you in a way that allows us to hold your hand as we give it a little SQUEEZE as well as keep our eye on you, tell him how long that one was, even if we’ll save the rundown in our head for later because it won’t do anything for you right this second]

Jake: [doing an adorable lil smile and looking like the child you are, here basically giving heart eyes as he crawls even closer to her cos gotta be the closest you can be, tell her about what you’ve been told about the first one cos your 2nd one literally nobody saw but there were some peeps around for the first, however drunk and unhelpful they were and hence unreliable witnesses to what actually occurred, giving I’m glad you were here this time instead with his tone]

Sylvie: [very much cuddling back into him but letting him decide how y’all are cuddling because don’t want to crowd you until we’re sure you’re ready for that, still, must give him a forehead kiss as we listen to him, comparing the one he just had with what was said about the first ‘I told you sex was a trigger’ softly, half joking but half the tea]

Jake: [stroking her hair again but in the softest way ever as he’s talking because would feel like it’s taking you a thousand years to tell her these few deets because you’re so tired and not really with it ‘I told you lack of sleep was’ but amused and giving her a lil grin about it ‘you know, you’re meant to taste funny but you tasted like [whatever she did which is complimentary]’ cos not a symptom you had clearly]

Sylvie: [rubbing your cheek against the pad of his thumb, smiling at him, only a little sadly because kinda your fault there but also not going to say you regret it because you don’t and you both firmly believe you gotta live your lives so ‘are we camping here or do you want to get upstairs?’ because you can absolutely take that nap now sir but do you need to crash right now or can you get in bed and get comfy is the vibe, kissing his lips briefly for punctuation and as if you’re asking if you still taste of this thing]

Jake: [we all know he doesn’t regret it either and his eyes are saying so as he’s looking at her ‘do you have a bathroom down here?’ cos that’ll be the deciding factor as there’s nothing worse than properly pissing yourself and having to stay in it so you’ll wanna deal with that first before you do anything, not that you have clothes so you’re gonna have to borrow hers or her father’s but still, kissing her back as dramatically as you can which is very soft rn]

Sylvie: [nod, at first into this kiss before you are sitting yourself back up like okay, yeah, let’s do that, searching for your top to put back on because wouldn’t have done that when we had other priorities but pausing ‘do you want me to wait outside whilst you clean yourself up or?’ giving am I getting in the shower with you or at least assisting because realising it could be dangerous but also allowing you the privacy of us just being outside and coming in if you’ve been too long/we hear a thud]

Jake: [doing a lil pout like she did earlier about her putting her top back on cos playful vibes but also genuinely a bit gutted that she is and y’all got cockblocked that hard like that, genuinely considering her question because you know it would be wise to let her help you but you don’t want her to have to be acting like a carer on day 1 and that’s ultimately the urge that wins out so nod like yeah please do wait ‘Can you get me a drink for when I come out?’ cos being thirsty and having a headache are both lovely things for the aftermath]

Sylvie: [‘Promise I’ll take it off again’ cuffing his chin at this pout but we obviously mean that and are not deterred, even if for now it must be soft hours ‘Of course, I should have breakfast actually, I’ll get us a spread’ because you’ve definitely not eaten as you’d be too excited so a good idea and what you can say you’re doing and aren’t purely waiting for him ‘towels are in there’ standing up to show him where this bathroom situ is]

Jake: [pulling at it gently like you’re playfully gonna take her top off right now but using the gesture and her proximity to help you up without making a big thing of needing help, holding onto her for a sec because you both need and want to, just breathing her in for once instead of breathing on her ferally ‘Cool’ quietly but with all the feeling because it’s obvs more than that it’s a thanks and basically an ILY again]

Sylvie: [when you shamelessly would let him so you’re not even flinching, nor baulking at the way he used it to help get up off the floor, we could all use a minute, giving him the hug you’ve been wanting to, the genuine sigh of relief sounding a lot like your happy sigh because same thing and means so much more also, get this shower running for him because other people’s showers can be a law unto themselves, at least it’s probable there is a seat because Thomas injured himself dancing so you are very welcome Jake, turning to leave because now is no time to sexualise him but also gotta let him know you still are by flashing him a LOOK as you ask if there’s anything else he needs]

Jake: [Oh Thomas, love you, babe, soz we’re lowkey doing this fam so dirty health wise, this boy returning the LOOK while he takes off his top when she’s still in the room because didn’t get to before and it’s just saucy enough, not too much but still !! before you bring her back and kiss her again, it’s gotta be soft but nobody minds cos that’s a mood and a moment with the shower running and their emotions this high]

Sylvie: [just having a marvellous time making out with this boy and gently appreciating his toplessness without getting carried away, you love to see it, break apart with your own pouty noise like no, no, you must shower ‘hurry up, I miss you’ as you’re walking out]

Jake: [hurrying up because he misses her too and also he’s too tired to be faffing about and is probably doing a me where he can’t stand there for ages and ages, but it’s okay because we all get the joys of this boy only in a towel, you’re welcome, it’s what y’all deserve after what we’ve just done to you]

Sylvie: [the way we’re going to sneakily get your bottoms and wash and dry them so you can wear them home, just know it and appreciate it; for now we are WATCHING you from the kitchen moment as we’re finishing off whatever breakfast you’ve chucked together, probably fruit stuff because you know he’s that type, come over and hand him his drink, after he’s gotten himself comfy again]

Jake: [As someone who has pissed themselves a lot and knows exactly how he feels I do appreciate it v much actually, but catch him taking a drink and WATCHING her too over his glass because this is so domestic and the continental breakfast vibes are making you think about Paris]

Sylvie: [having the same thought and very much wanting to lay all over him but you have to let him hydrate and you must try to eat something lest you have your own dizzy spell, not cute, the heart eyes are so real though as we put this breakfast on the coffee table like help yourself]

Jake: [fruit is an excellent shout for how thirsty you feel just try not to go ham because an upset stomach is another thing that can happen and that wouldn’t be cute either, gesture for this girl to sit next to you and when she do feed her something, not even trying to be hot about it just being cute and domestic]

Sylvie: [again, a lovely time being had feeding each other, are going to have to kiss you also but we’ll keep it very chill in terms of how extra we could be, you can put on some chill music to match the vibe]

Jake: [the vibes are immaculate and I approve, after you’ve eaten (and smooched) you can go upstairs and lie down in her bed and snuggle that’ll be nice]

Sylvie: [y’all are teenagers so she’ll happily be able to nap with you as it’s clearly the AM and who wants to be up that early anyway; but the casual feral state of your room/bed after your night will have you BLUSHING as you’re leading him in because tidying was not a priority, doing a little sheepish grin at him because you both know]

Jake: [girls we all know his most mischievous smile is back at her own grin and most importantly her blush because rn with how tired this boy do be and the fit we’ve put him through last night feels like a million years ago so it’s lovely to have that reminder that it isn’t and let some of those mems flood back, I love the parallel of him letting his towel drop to the floor much like she did her bra earlier even though he isn’t doing it with !! saucy intent he really is just getting under these covers to snuggle and snooze, I also love that however sleepy he is he is nevertheless sat up in her bed for a minute looking around at her room and appreciating the vibes, trying to take in as many deets as he can]

Sylvie: [doing more smiling and blushing at his booty ‘cos boy's butts are always cute and funny idk why, hence we’re even doing a lil laugh but in a nice way because you’ve never been in this domestic a situation with a boy before and it’s weird but also you love it, whilst he’s looking around your room, rooting through your drawers for a slouchy pair of PJ bottoms or joggers he can put on after your snooze ‘you already knew I was a terrible hostess’ as you’re crouched in front of these drawers, looking at him in your bed, because giving sorry about the mess vibes]

Jake: [when you have been in this domestic a situation before because your gf literally lives with you so this should be weird/you should be feeling all types of ways rn that you’re just not because you also love it ‘cool room though’ with way more feeling than that suggests because whatever vibe she’s got going on he’d be here for it, both in the ways they are similar and the ways they are different, truly, gesturing for her to come and get in this bed with you like it’s the most natural and obvious thing in the world ever despite how naked you are and what a first this is]

Sylvie: [hurrying over to get in this bed with him, again, as if this is something you’ve done with anyone in this context, never mind him, no hesitation in also slipping under these covers, facing him so the ‘thanks’ is so unnecessarily in his grill, smoothing his hair out on your pillow]

Jake: [likewise 0 hesitation in getting really comfy immediately and wrapping his entire body around hers so entirely like he’s wordlessly saying thanks back for everything she did with how !! and cosy this snuggle is, no notes]

Sylvie: [doing the tiniest gasp into his neck, hugging him back and somehow making it tighter like you could be any closer, giving him some really soft kisses over his whole neck/face area like the you’re welcome it is]

Jake: [doing a happy sigh about it all because it’s the only acceptable response ‘thanks for giving me another chance’ because she really did not have to and he knows that, said so quietly into her skin like that’s nbd instead of something you mean with your whole heart]

Sylvie: [‘I understood’ with a microscopic shrug because you don’t want him to move away from you at all but you did, even if it was embarrassing and you were in the !! trenches, he has a girlfriend, you don’t feel as if you can really be offended by him trying to do the right thing there, speaking as quietly as he is, constantly touching him in the softest ways rn ‘and I’m glad I did, you’re alright’ understatement of the century purposefully there]

Jake: [a nod that turns into a soft but not little and very !! neck kiss because he isn’t and doesn’t want to move away either but she does understand him better than anyone rn and that’s just tea ‘I’m glad we’re friends again’ while he’s doing the absolute most kissing her neck obvs]

Sylvie: [just here silently, but not really because you’re breathing is crazy, pulling whatever you have on your bottom half down, shifting closer to him to get out of these clothes so he’s not alone in his nakedness, again, no thought to hesitation here ‘you’re a good friend’ with all the sincerity and !!]

Jake: [helping her get out of these clothes because you just wanna but also you don’t want her to have to move too much from the insanely close proximity that y’all are in cos you only wanna get closer if anything, catch him just running his hands over her body the way he did not get to do earlier, gently because you still feel weak and tired and all the things, but very intentionally]

Sylvie: [‘look at me again’ almost a question with how much it’s not a demand right now because we want to repeat the moment you were having before your seizure even if it is purely this moment and this moment alone, getting your top off over your head too so he can, love that you’re even more naked than you were, it’s giving progression, putting your hands on his shoulders, where you pushed him before in the kitchen, just reliving every moment you’ve had thus far and being so !! but soft]

Jake: [we love to see it, once again the vibes are immaculate well done lads, LOOKING at her with even more !! than earlier because you weren’t fully in the moment then with that seizure about to happen and you so are now, however tired, hence you gotta rub your face right after from how hard you were STARING at her unblinkingly for what feels like forever, running his hands over her body again with even more !! for this extra nakedness cos didn’t get to touch her boobs earlier and that’s a tragedy, finally PULLING her into him so they are even more tangled up than before, kissing her on the mouth with SUCH intensity even though it’s soft and romantic not like feral and frenzied, literally missing at one point cos of the sleepiness so he’s kissing her face and being the most]

Sylvie: [giving him just as much attention, truly giving how we were watching that scene with the way we refuse to look away, constantly inching closer to whatever part of him we’re looking at now, testing with our hands and then an individual finger and then just our nails, trying to make him feel how his looks and touches are making us feel, mirroring but only in vibe not in what you’re doing if that makes sense, the way this kiss is EVERYTHING and we’re so readily coming at his face with the same makeout energy like he meant to do it, just out here licking your face so indecently but the heart eyes energy of it all is still so real]

Jake: [it makes total sense and we’re all here for it, hence I’m gonna be nice and let y’all have a makeout sesh for a minute here that then turns into him kissing her everywhere on her body he can reach with how pressed together theirs are, before his eyes keep closing, despite how extra we wanna be with all our heart eyes and LOOKS whenever there’s the slightly pause for breath or anything, and he literally yawns so neither of y’all can ignore it, hard as he’s been trying to]

Sylvie: [stroking his face as he’s yawning, pulling him closer to you again and gesturing for him to get comfortable and just snaking your body around his when he does, finding one of his hands under the covers and bringing it to your mouth clasped in your own hand to kiss like a promise of more later, resting your head on his shoulder to look at him ‘night, Jake’ like it isn’t the morning because we don’t care what time it is, it feels like an endless continuation from your feralness from actual last night and you’re both finally crashing properly]

Jake: [getting so comfy and making his hold of her an even tighter one, tight like he’s relieved he can be that !! because he’s been feeling so weak up to now and this is more like his usual self, pulling her head from his shoulder to his chest like he did on the sofa, stroking her hair again as he kisses it, on her ear so he can say it back to her into it like a sleepy but hot af whisper, calling her her nickname again obvs because all the feeling]

Sylvie: [not you sleepily drawing an ‘S’ over the pec your head isn’t on over and over, lowkey hypnotising yourself to sleep with the repetition and the comforting feel of his chest going up and down beneath you, doing a happy sigh once again because you really like this nickname and I feel like it isn’t one anyone else calls you particularly so it feels like it is just for y’all which is why you like it so much]

Jake: [lowkey hypnotising this boy to sleep as well, we know because it’s a nice feeling and a simple enough letter that he can decode what you’re doing and is ofc into it, saying something that would sound like sleepy nonsense but is actually you telling yourself to remember an idea of a lyric that you just this second had, trying to make sure you don’t forget it when you wake up, and will make sense to her later when she hears said song like omg OH and yeah I 10000% agree with you about the nickname btw it’s so them vibes because the french of it all that there’s no reason why it needs to have been anyone else’s go to at any point, go to sleep though sir, you need it]

Sylvie: [we will let y’all fall to sleep and stop waffling but sorry y’all are really cute and there’s nothing to be done about that, shipping it so wholeheartedly]

Jake: [so do I, don’t mind me, in as deep as them, but yeah get some zzz because there’s no reason you can’t sleep for hours and hours uninterrupted and he’ll feel so much better for it]

Sylvie: [will be kind and say you wake up before anyone gets home because I want to and that’s still giving hours and hours, always love that moment when you wake up and have the split second of not remembering something and then this boy is here in your bed, cuddled into you so hard and it’s like OH, practically making a noise so akin to that OH as this hits you as you’re rubbing your eyes and doing a satisfied yawn ‘cos that was clearly a fire nap]

Jake: [I agree, clearly Meena had a full day of busy author things to be getting on with so there’s no reason for her to be back early but we gotta give them some time before he needs to be home instead of having to just wake up and run, he’ll likewise have the same moment of wtf and where am I but smiling so big when the realisation hits and he’s woken up by her, quiet as she was, because of how close they still are ‘I thought I dreamt it’ as the first thing you say because every moment has been such immaculate vibes]

Sylvie: [doing an apologetic but ultimately buzzing so not really that sorry grin back at him for waking him up, biting your bottom lip as you pinch his cheek with the bants of making sure he isn’t but there’s some !! behind it because pinching yourself was mentioned last night and we both remember that ‘morning’ with the same cheeky energy]

Jake: [we do all remember so pinching her side with even more !! because I’m sure he had an arm around her waist or whatever in a way that felt casual in contrast to how much that’s not, LOOKING at her as if y’all weren’t asleep a sec ago with how intense and suddenly focused it is]

Sylvie: [holding either side of his face and pressing your forehead against his chin when you make a NOISE about how he’s now holding you around your waist and LOOKING at you because you can’t handle any of it]

Jake: [when you’ve gotta make a NOISE of your own about hers because you’re likewise not at all fine or casual about any of this, really trying to PULL her entire body into yours as if you could get any closer so really you’re just leaving more bruises like you said you would, letting her know how much better you feel with how !! you’re capable of being now]

Sylvie: [LOOKING up at him, firmly yet with the softness from before pressing your fingers into his cheeks, feeling how sharp his cheekbones and then jawline are like your eyes are deceiving you ‘you look good’ casual words said so uncasually because the double meaning of how much better he looks compared to earlier as well as how into him we are right now, pushing into his hands in approval, wanting more]

Jake: [‘I feel better’ it’s obvious and casual words of your own but you gotta say it in a tone that conveys both how much you do and how much is down to her because that nap was fire and we all know the reasons why, pushing his body into hers with the same energy]

Sylvie: [‘you feel fucking incredible’ as a gasp essentially because y’all are so close and you can feel everything and you’re so about it, having to kiss him to stop yourself saying anything else/making any more noises THAT blatant, pushing his hands up from your waist to your chest insistently]

Jake: [soft hours are over sis so he will be kissing her back hard like the makeout sesh they were having earlier before we rudely interrupted them and touching her chest with 0 hesitation but with all the !! he did not earlier, doing a lil moan into her mouth about it]

Sylvie: [pinching him again in the most feral way you can, aka paying attention to his nips right now because you need to be as !! but you can’t do anything to leave a mark atm so this is a safe bet as well as as unhinged as you want to be with this boy, panting softly in contrast to how hard everything else is]

Jake: [catch him biting her tongue in response, obvs nowhere near as he did his, soft in contrast to how hard the kisses are, as if he isn’t allowed to leave a mark either but wants them to be matching, going even harder with how he’s touching her boobs rn, really doing the most but we’ve always gotta do more so kissing his way down to them until he’s eventually there having left a trail of frankly unhinged kisses and licks along the way, doing all the kissing and sucking and licking once he is like it’s his job]

Sylvie: [the disbelief turned pure pleasure that plays out as your eyes widen and then roll in your head at this tongue bite, such a strangely muffled moan about it which also gets you because sounds not dissimilar to when you had to gag yourself about it before, letting your hands follow the trail he is leaving, touching yourself where he has touched you, like you’re making reminders, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against your body, as if he’s thinking of leaving]

Jake: [we all know he’s thinking of and being reminded of the same things and is equally feral about it hence continuing to do the absolute most, here knowing we’re leaving all the marks known to man and we couldn’t be happier about it, just when it feels like he’s gonna do this all day though, moving down, giving the same treatment to her stomach and her hips for again what feels like forever but eventually pausing to LOOK up at her because gotta ask her permission to go there and do that even though last night she said she couldn’t wait for him to taste her and we’re likewise remembering that vividly, you know she hasn’t done this before, so gotta check she irl does wanna]

Sylvie: [LOOKING back at him, propping yourself up on your elbows so you really can, looking at all the marks he’s made on you and thrusting yourself almost into him like SO close to his mouth it’s like you are teasing him on purpose but it was just your genuine reaction to the sight ‘can I… take a picture of you, even just a before and after, you look like [the man from the film]’ and we want to memorise this and obsess over it just as much as that scene, frankly]

Jake: [when he was so shady about Libi always having her camera out and we all just know he isn’t letting China take content of him either unless it’s literally like him performing and band content he can post, but as Taylor would say it hits different cos it’s her and he’s so readily agreeing to this and his ‘yeah’ is not at all casual]

Sylvie: [mhmmmmm, the way we are not usually this girl either and I imagine your socials are pretty scant for a girl even if not as hard as his are because boys are like it as a rule practically and he has his personal vendetta too; but you simply gotta to a degree you don’t even understand but it is a must ‘and I want you to record it, how it sounds when you make me yours’ because all remember he said you gotta be his and we intend to be]

Jake: [I love it for you lads, I truly do, iconic of y’all, nobody talk to me about the way he LOOKS at her when she says that because he remembers too but the way it hits hearing her use the words irl is EVERYTHING, here moaning her nickname fully as he starts to do this, kissing her thighs first and doing the absolute most like he did everywhere else, me here like, when was the last time you did any of this for your gf Jake? Because it completely gives something he’d do at the start before they’ve had sex and aren’t trying to rush into it but then not something he’d do once they are, soz but it’s true and I had to say it]

Sylvie: [NODDING like he needs the confirmation that you’re serious and you mean it when it’s so blatant in your !! energy that is filling this room right now in the anticipation for everything to come ‘I think your name might always make me wet now, it’s a problem’ as a confession that comes tumbling out of your lips in response to your own name being moaned, because you absolutely were his incessantly last night and we all know it; meanwhile my boo says someone had to say it and she’s so real lmao]

Jake: [this boy going for it like he’s gotta check to see if what she said is true and how wet she is and thus how big of a ‘problem’ it is and that’s the only way, letting her take as many pics as she wants to as though he’s that bitch before reaching for her phone to put it right by his head and press record because god knows where his is rn and we’re not stopping to find that]

Sylvie: [almost smashing your head into your headboard with the force you have to throw it back to make the most noise about this, balling up your fists in the sheets ‘they were soaked’ which feels like no exaggeration with how hard and long y’all were going so we mean it ‘do I taste like [whatever he said you did post-seizure]?’ not said for the benefit of this recording but it’s all going to be here along with how indecent everything he’s doing sounds]

Jake: [when you hear her almost crack her skull but you’re not stopping for that either, soz gal, he’ll check you’re okay after I promise but rn we’re too !! tell her about the state of you cos whatever set up you had and wherever you were you were also cumming all over everything, whether that’s tissues you can tell her you used like a full box of or whatever the vibe was, we know what I’m saying and it’s that he was as extra, also telling her she tastes like an elevated version of whatever he said earlier, somehow, because duh even better]

Sylvie: [‘the way you could feed me every single one’ shaking our head and doing the hottest lol because an unhinged thing to say and mean with your whole chest, which is apparent in how desperately we’re grinding against your tongue about it, whining full 🥺 because the nicest thing you’ve ever heard and you can’t cope]

Jake: [do your own hot lol about it which will kill her because you’re not pausing any of your antics, instead getting your fingers involved too because gotta do the most in response to those sorts of reactions and give her more]

Sylvie: [doing an OMG gasp and giggle like that tickled but you’re also beyond obsessed with how it felt and he knows it from the way you are again using his hair to keep him where he is ‘I’ve never gone this far, been touched like this by someone else’ it was obvious and he knew but you’re still saying it if only to showcase how hard it is to speak]

Jake: [laugh again at how she’s holding you hostage by your hair like oh you but really you just wanna give her that feeling again ‘Is it okay?’ said not like you need permission/are checking that she is but like you want her to tell you how good it is, because of course you do]

Sylvie: [try your hardest to tell him how good this is without overthinking it, the only thing making you pause is the way you have to catch your breath from the way you are panting at this point ‘like my body was made for this and anything and everything else is a waste of time?’ letting go of your grip on his hair like you expect a response because you do wanna know how he feels too]

Jake: [‘for me’ because you couldn’t agree more sis, you feel like you could do this forever and that has nothing to do with getting your energy back after this fire nap, doing the most like you’ve really gotta make the point she’s yours and like you weren’t already doing what you both thought was the most before, surprising yourself a lil bit with how slay you’re being because we all know damn well you weren’t when you did this before, soz but it’s again too true]

Sylvie: [‘yours’ for the confirmation no one needed that you are there and you feel it, running your hands the entire length of your body for emphasis like all of me because you are slaying this for us and you are getting all the confirmation]

Jake: [you likewise don’t need to say ‘mine’ back like y’all are stuck in another loop but you are and you do, catch him pinching her inner thigh so hard rn because they both can’t believe this is happening and it is so slay]

Sylvie: [we love a loop and it’s going to be getting closer and closer the closer we get, volleying these words off each other with the !! that is growing with every second ‘is that what it feels like?’ as an interruption at the sharp shock and how it’s got you THINKING about when you eventually go all the way with this boy]

Jake: [my boo says that’s so y’all’s vibe and she’s so right for that, he clearly isn’t a bitch who usually repeats himself but you better believe he’s out here doing that in every possible indecent tone he can, in answer to her question ‘it feels like this’ and giving her the most !! lovebite, really going to town with it because you know she will love that and so do you and you’re just letting her know how much you wanna have sex with her as if that wasn’t blatant]

Sylvie: [got to love making a boy chattier than he ever is, with all the positive feedback, how could you not both get lost in this moment like you truly are the only people who exist and there’s 0 chance of anyone interrupting when you’re teens so that is never true, no fucks given, out here doing the UNHOLIEST noise about the lovebite and saying his name as indecently as you ever have]

Jake: [you’re both welcome we’ve been rude and cockblocky enough that we aren’t hitting you with a very real parental interruption because at this age that is so possible and Meena would have no reason to knock not even knowing this boy is here, I’m sure everyone’s notp has been walked in by Jake’s mum and/or sister and it was mortifying, but we don’t need to think about that when we can think about him pulling all the stops to make her keep making the unholiest noises ever]

Sylvie: [it’s bound to happen but not today, you are owed this uninterrupted glory for the baptism of fire we put y’all through, soz not soz, have to be here asking him ‘when?’]

Jake: [‘When you’re ready’ like he’s just being a caring and supportive no pressure kinda lad but we’re saying that too indecently and exactly like we want her to say how ready she is now/beg him to do it because again, of course]

Sylvie: [‘make me ready for you’ giving back the exact same energy because now it’s a game of who will end up breaking first casually and we’re as about this as we have been everything else]

Jake: [yet again so y’all’s vibes, catch him literally trying to kill her with how extra he’s being in response to that, no notes]

Sylvie: [when you raise your head again to smirk at him like I win because you can’t actually lose in this scenario but you’re only able to MOAN whilst LOOKING directly at him and that kills you so hard]

Jake: [this just turning into a staring contest while they both MOAN and he continues to put his all into making her cum is too real, living your best lives lads]

Sylvie: [your eyes only moving from his to LOOK at this phone just as meaningfully because now you’re imagining how all of this has sounded and that it’ll sound even more feral when you start to cum for him momentarily and you’re so about it you can’t even verbalise, your mouth is just open like !!]

Jake: [truly wishing for his phone (who is he and when has he ever) so that he could take a million pics of her rn like this because dare not use hers in case he accidentally stopped the recording which would be too devastating to risk, tell her how much she sounds like the gal from the film though because she’ll love that as much as you did when she said you looked like the dude]

Sylvie: [THE biggest smile ever because you do, even if you have to immediately pull the pillow he was sleeping on over your face because you’re too close to be having those big feelings, shaking your head like I cannot]

Jake: [his ‘look at me’ being said the second she pulls that pillow over her face because you just gotta, evil of you but we wouldn’t have it any other way, the way his voice sounds making it clear she has no choice about this]

Sylvie: [when all you can see are her 🥺 eyes peeping over this pillow because we’re afraid of how hard we’re going to lose it but also DYING to show you if it’s anything like last night was for you, which it will be]

Jake: [doing the hottest ever 😏 at her because she did that for you and you know you could make her do anything atm, rewarding her with an even more indecent lovebite because it starts out so slow and soft but then is so !!]

Sylvie: [pushing the pillow down and hugging it to our chest like we gotta literally brace ourselves here ‘fuck you’ at this smirk but it’s said like a fuck me, absolutely, before the lovebite just has us out here being blatant with it ‘fuck me’]

Jake: [doing the hottest lol at her fuck you before the fuck me has you back doing the most because taking it as the instruction it is duh, out here not even pausing for breath or anything so breathing absolutely insanely as per]

Sylvie: [reaching out to clutch his face to yours, saying his name like you’re trying to find him and you can’t ‘I need you’ never been truer, putting your legs around him to pull him closer]

Jake: [shamelessly kissing her so that she knows what she tastes like 1. And 2. So that then he can start over the whole kissing down her entire body shenanigans, doing the most at every step of the way until he’s right back where he was, love that we’re really acting like we have all day here to do this because it cannot be overstated how long he’s taking for the makeout sesh and to kiss her everywhere and how indecently, like sir you do have a home to go to]

Sylvie: [will be kissing your tongue the extra way we could not earlier but have wanted to ever since ‘how mean of me’ like your poor injured tongue, I did not even stop to think, doing a hot lol because we all know there is nothing else he’d rather be doing, as is apparent when he cannot resist kissing you all over again ‘stay’ like he doesn’t have a home to go to and he can ‘until we pass out again’]

Jake: [saying ‘here’ in a way that’s not coherent because of how deep inside her his tongue is like yes I shall, right here forever and always it’s fine, no notes, just here being as feral at eating her out as he ever has]

Sylvie: [‘I’m your-’ going to say home but being cut off by the biggest orgasm you have ever had, which is, only fittingly, repeating and building into multiples you wouldn’t even be able to count right now if you tried]

Jake: [both of y’all shooketh by that in the best way because he’s never seen or caused anything like it and she’s never felt anything like it, you’ve earnt collapsing on this bed beside her as she tries to recover remotely, both of you take several moments to process this, we’ve left the recording running still and I love that]

Sylvie: [just here breathing like you’ve ran a marathon, feeling like you could die but in this moment you’d be okay with it because happy doesn’t cover the literal euphoria, finding his hand and giving it the weakest SQUEEZE but a SQUEEZE nonetheless because holy shit]

Jake: [his breathing definitely as insane 100% hence we’re letting this recording run to catch it for a bit longer before turning it off, using his free hand to push her hair off her flushed and sweaty face, blowing it too like he did earlier ‘Do you want some water?’ because she got some for him before and he’s more than willing to return the favour]

Sylvie: [closing your eyes as he tickles your face with these softer antics, smiling, putting out your other hand ‘pass me my phone?’ because you need to take your after photos of him, first and foremost]

Jake: [do pass her that phone, yet more evidence of how here for it you are that you’re not even playfighting her or anything about it]

Sylvie: [telling him how long you were recording when your eyes can properly register the screen, giving you are shook by how long he kept that up as well as how the hell did I manage to last that long ‘no wonder you did that to me’ like how could I not lose it in a way I never have before, taking pictures of him, the heart eyes in the way we’re getting every angle humanly possible rn]

Jake: [shamelessly giving her heart eyes back because he’s in too deep and he can’t not, love that she’ll capture his shook expression too when she tells him how long they were at that]

Sylvie: [nodding like I know, casually, very shakily and slowly, straddling him like you need to for the shot and not just because you want to ‘no pressure or anything, but I’m going to need you to do that every day now’ like lol not living without it thank you]

Jake: [when you were gonna do a hot lol or say something sassy but in no world is he not the most turned on he’s ever been + naked so her straddling him just causes the most indecent GASP of all time ‘no pressure, but I’m going to need you to do something for me right now’]

Sylvie: [taking his dick in your hands, doing your own gasp at the way it is throbbing, shuddering as you slide him between your legs, being so wet you can easily create a smooth rhythm by rocking your hips back and forth slowly, hissing through your teeth as you let him enter you, only as far as his tongue could ‘how does that feel?’ after you’ve once again hit record]

Jake: [just doing the MOST unholy sound you’ve ever made in response because it feels so good that it’s all you can do, once again no notes, out here being super dramatic as per usual]

Sylvie: [trying to maintain the most torturously slow rhythm ever but the way this feels for you is already making you feral again too, leaning down to suck and kiss and bite at his chest, basically only his nips because you know you’re going to get carried away and you can’t mark his skin]

Jake: [likewise trying to keep up with the pace she’s set and also not put more of yourself inside her each time you thrust in and out than she did but you’re feeling as feral and definitely going to get carried away too, so absolutely pushing the full length into her when she is being !! with his nips, soz but he cannot help it]

Sylvie: [the way you will feel the sharp intake of breath we do on your skin followed by the shuddering exhale and spluttering, wet moan as you fully penetrate us ‘you have it, you have my virginity’ as if you actually can’t believe it, pressing your forehead into his chest as you ride this feeling out with a groan straining behind your bitten lips ‘Jake, take it more’ just in case he was under any illusion you wanted to stop this]

Jake: [when you genuinely did not mean to and you were gonna try your hardest to go back to just the tip after that one slip up truly but then her mentioning her virginity has you losing your mind because realising that you can’t just and then she’s also telling you she didn’t want you to, so letting yourself do this instead of holding back]

Sylvie: [kind of in disbelief that this is happening but in the best possible way, like this is all a dream again, hence pinching yourself as you unfold again, sitting up straighter so he can see you pinching your own nips about it ‘it feels better’ like you gotta let him know how good this feels]

Jake: [we’re all in shock and awe rn, this boy especially, because y’all are out here not using no protection or nothing, being so reckless like you’re in a committed relationship and old, LOOKING at her as he WATCHES her do that ‘I don’t care if it’s a trigger’ because likewise, would risk having another fit rn or a million of them if it means they can keep doing this]

Sylvie: [the way you’re both giving no thoughts just vibes so hard, iconic tbh, gotta do what you gotta do, which right now is touching on our body where he is inside us because again, can’t believe it is happening and that this is all possible ‘that’s you’ as the most !! statement]

Jake: [it’s fine we all know Alison would come through with a morning after pill if you needed it and via Mags if you didn’t wanna say it was for you, whether or not she’s actually had sex herself or not by this point, you’re welcome for that lads cos not a thought in your heads about it, he’s just here going in deeper inside her ofc]

Sylvie: [y’all are truly welcome for the freakout you don’t need to have later because there isn’t a remote chance of you stopping now and that couldn’t be clearer in how we’re laying on top of him instead of straddling sitting up 1. So we can kiss him about this but 2. So we are closer and you’re deeper inside us still]

Jake: [oh good have a lovely makeout sesh while you go at this so you don’t say anything too extra because I’m saving the first ILY for when they run away to Paris and not a moment before so shh bitch, the way this is gonna get you so close to cumming because you are deeper and y’all are closer and kissing, they’re definitely not stopping]

Sylvie: [my boo says you shut your mouth sir and she is so right, as she is for saying you’re both going to cum so fast because no one was prepared for this, hence ‘I want your cum’ is as true as it is encouragement because he doesn’t need to hold on for our sake here]

Jake: [mhmm, and rn he’s gotta because he’s literally 14 years old he doesn’t have the self control to not, even Ronan did it and he didn’t even like Carly like that so, when the feelings are CLEARLY this high and she’s saying what’s probably the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you, then yeah, you’re gonna cum so hard that you’re once again shook by it]

Sylvie: [nobody move, nobody is able, just here collapsed on top of him, dead, once again, trying to get your breathing back under control, only moving a literal finger to draw another ‘S’ on his skin, wherever is easiest to reach]

Jake: [soz I love it because if he’d had the opportunity he would’ve got really in his head about making her first time ‘special’ because he’s been that bitch and China is that sentimental girlie and y’all are not the notp and it doesn’t need to be that, so just try vaguely to recover/wait it out to see if sex is a trigger and you are gonna have another fit, which thankfully you aren’t, while you basically hold onto her for dear life]

Sylvie: [it would be really awkward if you ‘gave’ him another seizure but thankfully all triggers are only possible and it isn’t a guaranteed or idk what you would do lol, raising your head on one side to look at him for the first time since you both lost yourself in that moment, like are you okay/was that okay, just praying you’re still on the same page and it’s not about to go south]

Jake: [I like to think he’s looking at her with the exact same are you okay/was that okay questions in his eyes because it was her first time and he cares, like literally at the same moment he’s about to ask her when he sees that she’s asking him too with a look, so smiling like oh what we like]

Sylvie: [smiling back until it’s a grin ‘we just had sex’ like can you actually believe that because what a wild ride you two have been on to get here]

Jake: [‘I didn’t hurt you’ not as a question but as a statement because he didn’t and he said he didn’t want to and wouldn’t again, even though it would be more physical if he had rn and you were mainly talking emotionally then]

Sylvie: [‘next time’ before kissing the tip of his nose ‘cos you’re playing with him, finally rolling off top of him and laying beside him again, covering you both up with your duvet so you don’t get cold now the sweat y’all are covered in is cooling off ‘I didn’t know who I would do that with’ because the kind of thing you start to think about at this sort of age and then she was in her it’s never happening moment because of the diagnosis]

Jake: [doing a hot lol like oh you, grabbing her again and snuggling her once she’s got the covers over you both like she needs the extra warmth and you don’t just want to ‘I didn’t know we would yet’ because whatever ego you have you didn’t come here expecting that she’d do it all today even though you wanted to]

Sylvie: [‘why wait?’ spoken into the crook of his arm as you snuggle down because you can’t think of a reason, not now, ‘I mean-’ doing your tiny shrug that doesn’t displace you again because you know you should care he has a girlfriend but you’d be lying if you said you cared enough to let it effect this]

Jake: [you likewise can’t think of a reason and you’re not gonna force yourself to try, not now, repeating the ‘nothing’s stopping us’ that you said before like it’s y’all’s catchphrase because lowkey it is]

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.��

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner songfic #traitor olivia rodrigo #aaron hotchner angst #angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #you will not find a happy ending here #oops

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braunbakery · 3 years

Text

loser (ii)

☞ zeke jaeger x fem reader [ chapter word count: 6.5k]

☞ sfw, alluding to non sfw if you squint, angst, modern au. not proofread (soz), u r eren’s friend and homies with the 104th, jumps from present to past

☞ cross-posted on ao3

☞ plot: ‘i’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?’ zeke jaeger - former aspiring baseball star. you - formerly caught in the mix of loving him. together - meeting outside a bar a year and a half after your break up.

(now - dealing with the aftermath of going home with him.)

☞ loser [part i] [bonus chapter]

ii. end

NOW

you know what zeke is doing most of the time.

you’ve spent enough time with him and cried over him enough to know whatever he actually means when he says stuff and does stuff. and he knows that you know. you think he does that stuff because he knows that you know.

when he gave you his jacket, when he apologized (even if he meant it. you hope he meant it), when he smiled at you in that way and looked at you in that stupid way of his. and when he kissed you.

when he kissed you.

that’s why you like watching him sleep. there is no hidden meaning, no motive, no meaningful look meant to make you weak at your knees. there is just zeke, sprawled out next to you with a heavy hand over your waist and the other dangling over the mattress. the smell of mint and smoke.

that’s why when you open your eyes and find your nose nestled into the side of his chest, for a while you’re content to just watch his chest, covered in the fabric of a white cotton t-shirt, rise and fall with every breath he takes. and then he grunts in his sleep, sending you slightly jumping. until the realisation hits and you actually are practically jumping out of the bed, fumbling through covers and launching yourself to the other side of the room.

fuck. fuck. why are you here?

you’re twisting yourself around to the mirror you know is on the wardrobe door of zeke’s sleek white bedroom, finding yourself in the same dress as last night with much-too-big for you plaid pyjama pants on top.

you need to get out of here. you can’t even think. zeke’s presence always fills up the entire room, even if he’s asleep, and now you think it’s going to fill you up as well until you’re the same pliant girl from a year ago.

you carefully prowl down the stairs of zeke and eren’s home, every creak echoing off of the walls and making your situation all the more real. how is this real? how did you get to this? you can’t turn the corner to the open floor kitchen and living room quick enough and as soon as your feet meet the chilled floors, you’re bounding to the front door without even thinking about it.

and then you hear toast popping out of a toaster and you think you would rather be anywhere else and do anything else other than turn around right now, but you can’t pretend that you don’t know that eren is probably stood behind you, watching you contemplate whether or not you should ignore him. so, you turn around.

“hey,” he says first from the other side of the room, confusion permeating his sleep-ridden voice.

“hi,” you mumble, looking down at your feet.

“what are you…doing here?” eren asks, setting down his cup of coffee and abandoning his toast as he makes his way around the island to slowly approach you.

“i…” you start. but you never finish. what can you even say? eren, before anyone, warned you of zeke. and he had to deal with your reluctance to join everyone at his house after the breakup, had to deal with the awkward silence you let settle between the two of you for the first few weeks afterwards when you couldn’t look at him and not see zeke. and he knows. you know he knows because why else would you be here?

“you…” eren tries to coax you, and your disappointment in yourself only intensifies when you slowly watch the confused smile playing on his lips sink into a frown when he notices the plaid pyjama bottoms you’re wearing. you clearly remember zeke’s charming smile last night as he called the two of you a taxi, and your gratefulness at him letting you sleep at his, and you should’ve known that they would cost you this look eren gives you now.

you look up at him. he sighs.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

your lips press into a thin line.

“i don’t…” you trail off again. eren runs his hand through his hair.

“you…” he tries to start but it seems like he’s just as lost for words as you are, “shit, didn’t he fuck with you enough?”

“you didn’t tell me he was coming.” the words seem pathetic coming out of your mouth and eren just inhales deeper.

“and that would have made all the difference, yeah?”

“i don’t know, okay? it just…would have been nice to know." you don’t want to argue with eren. you just want to leave.

“yeah…” it’s eren’s turn to stare down at his feet, “it’s not like we talk that much anymore.”

you hoped he wouldn’t have brought that up. and you feel bad, you do, but it was just so much easier to slowly distance yourself from eren when every time you looked at him you either saw zeke or you remembered your sinking heart when you got that text from him. and it’s not fair, it’s so obviously not fair on him, and it’s not like you don’t see him when you’re with everyone else. but being selfish has just been easier.

“listen just–” eren looks back up at you so quickly you almost jump, “just get out of here before he wakes up. and i’ll talk to you later.”

“before who wakes up?” a voice bellows. eren is visibly annoyed when footsteps start making their way past him and next to you.

and the worst part is that your heart soars when zeke wraps an arm around you. the worst part is that you start to forget you had even wanted to leave in the first place.

*~*

THEN

zeke | 23:47

Hey

Call me.

zeke | 00:03

I don’t know what the hell Eren said to you but call me.

zeke | 00:23

I know you’re seeing this baby. There’s been a shitty mix up.

Just call me okay?

you sleep in sasha’s bed that night. eren calls mikasa to come and get you, and you just go along with it. you just do what you’re told and float through packing your stuff and getting into mikasa’s car and settling into sasha’s bed without even changing. and when sasha notices that you’re gripping your phone in your hand, reading over every text from zeke intently when the screen lights up, she gets mikasa to carefully wrench the device away from your fingers and across the room.

“hey, it’s gonna be okay,” sasha says to you, sitting down in front of your lying form on her bed and placing a hand on your arm. mikasa watches from a bean bag on the other side of the room, alternating between looking over at you to furiously texting someone on her phone.

“i think…” you start to get up and sasha watches you with wide eyes, “i think i should text back.”

“no,” mikasa immediately calls out from her seat, “go to sleep.” she spares a glance at sasha.

something you love about zeke (something you think you still might) is the way that he makes you feel. it’s always so much in so little time. your heart is constantly pounding around him, your chest is constantly soaring and you’re always stuck between running from him or to him. either way, you’re always stuck in him.

maybe that’s why as you lie here, being doted on by your friends and thinking of how zeke is at his place probably thinking of you (it’s so fucked up. he was just with somebody else, so why is this all you can think about?), you feel like you just might burst if you don’t see him. it feels pathetic. but it feels like the norm.

you wish that you’d never met him. and you wish that he’d storm up to sasha’s dorm and demand to see you.

three knocks on the door.

your throat feels like its caving in on itself.

you breathe again when it’s eren that walks in, brows furrowed and awkwardly sparing you a glance.

“eren,” mikasa speaks from across the room, setting her phone down and watching him drape his jacket on the back of sasha’s door.

“hey,” you sit up again, swinging your legs off of the mattress and planting your feet on the floor.

“listen, i’m so sorry you had to find out fr–”

“it’s fine, eren. it’s not your problem.”

eren offers you a solemn smile and sits down next to you on the bed. sasha walks over across the room to mikasa. you can’t stop thinking about zeke. not even in a ‘i fucking hate him, i can’t believe him’ kind of way. because yeah…you think you might hate him, but you can believe him and that just makes you feel dumber. the fact you’re sitting here wishing he would walk through the door next makes you feel dumber.

“um…” you awkwardly start, clasping your hands in your lap and trying to spit out the words in a way that isn’t going to taint everyone’s view of you, “did he…say anything?”

you feel eren freeze next to you, “hm?”

“like…about me?”

“jesus christ, when are you going to let him go?” eren snaps at you. you think it hurts more because he doesn’t even raise his voice or look at you.

“eren.” mikasa calls out from the other side of the room, offering him a pointed look.

“no,” he says, more to her than to you. he finally looks at you, “no, i told you about him. i basically told you this might–”

“are you saying it’s my fault my boyfriend fucked someone else?”

“no!” eren exclaims, voice steadily growing louder, “that’s not what i mean. but you need to fucking get over him.”

“eren, just calm down–” sasha tries to say from across the room, but you and eren are both speaking over her erratically.

you glare at eren. you don’t know if you’re more upset with him or with zeke or with yourself, “why are you being so mean?”

eren’s stare softens just for a moment. he speaks to you carefully, like he’s not even sure of the words escaping his lips himself, “i’m not…trying to be mean. i’m just tired of watching you chase after him like a lost puppy.”

like a lost puppy.

is that all you are when you’re with him? just a pet to pass the time?

eren starts to get up, reaching for his stuff from where he hung them at the back of sasha’s door and offering sasha and mikasa a parting nod. you hear the door creak open.

“listen,” eren softly calls out to you, still keeping the door ajar with his hand, “zeke is my brother. he’s always gonna be my brother. but even i can say that he doesn’t deserve you, even if he does love you.”

you smile at eren and watch him leave. the truth is, you don’t think you really care if zeke deserves you. you’re not even sure if you really know what that means. you don’t want to be deserved. you just want him to take it back. even though you know it’s impossible, and you know there was another girl in his bed just a few hours ago, and you know that a part of you isn’t even surprised, you just want him to take it back somehow.

even if he has to bend the fucking world to do it.

*~*

NOW

when zeke turns you around to face him, he gives you the same groggy smiles he used to all that time ago. the ones that make your legs weak and make you feel like you’re the only one he smiles at. so you stare at the floor as soon as you catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“shy?” zeke teases, bringing a hand up to the side of your neck to try and coax you up to look at him. eventually you do, with a clenched jaw and fists at your sides. you can’t go back to how it was. he can’t make you. but it does seem like it would be so easy to pretend that nothing ever happened.

you swallow, “we were just tired, right? that’s why we’re back here?”

zeke releases a raspy laugh at your nervousness, “correct. no foul play here.”

“okay.”

the thing with zeke is that he’s rarely ever nervous or confused or awkward. and if he is, he always reels it back in before anyone else can see it. but, this time, you see it. because it seems like he’s realised you’re still not sure of what you’re doing with the way his hand is slowly dropping from your neck and he’s stepping back from you, pretending to scan over his kitchen.

the sense of triumph you feel is undoubtable. it makes you feel ill.

“you want tea? coffee?” zeke asks you, rounding the island.

“um…no, i think i’m fine.”

he stares at the marble-topped counter.

“listen…” he trails off, and it’d be amusing if watching him be at a loss for words didn’t make you just as nervous. you were so used to him being firm and certain that now…now you’re afraid whatever he’s about to spew out is just going to tug you back to him, “we didn’t like…this isn’t like a booty call or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“…right.”

“like, we didn’t do anything.”

“i know.” (there was just something about suddenly waking up in his bed that had your mind on edge, that had brought you back to things too familiar too quickly.)

zeke starts to walk back around the kitchen island, back to you, slowly, and you watch him like he’s prey about to pounce on you and you have to time your escape perfectly. you gulp when he doesn’t stop when he’s in front of you again, or when he doesn’t stop when the space between you is starting to diminish bit by bit, or when you can feel a hand carefully wrap around you and rest against the small of your back.

and zeke is watching you through blonde lashes, peering down at you like he’s just waiting for you to lurch out of his grasp again. you wonder if what he likes is the chase, the part where he has to continuously break you down until you let yourself live through whatever it is you still feel for him.

and then he’s leaning down, and you can feel his breath on your face, and he’s still watching you. still waiting for whatever move you’re going to make. all you can do is stare back up at him, through his glasses and his still-sleepy daze.

until you feel his beard slightly graze against you and you’re jumping away like you’ve stepped in fire. zeke’s hand is suspended in mid-air from where he was holding you, and it takes him a minute to realise that you’ve lurched backwards so far. you have to fill the silence before he says something. before he makes you regret it. before he does something stupid and charming that’s going to make you want him back again.

you open your mouth and try to will something out of yourself, “actually…i think i’ll have tea.”

zeke stares at you. then he smiles (you can’t read through it. what does it mean?), turns around and puts on the kettle.

you think you can hear him laugh to himself.

*~*

THEN

you’ve known that you were going to see zeke again at some point.

it’s like a storm that you’ve been watching approach for the two weeks, waiting for its arrival so you can just get it over with. there’s no way zeke would give up just like that…right? he’s stubborn and arrogant and uses pretty words and a big smile to get what he wants. it used to be endearing. (fuck, it still kind of is.)

but you just didn’t think it would be at your dorm. you thought he’d gotten the message that he wasn’t supposed to come by to your place from the countless arguments he’s had with eren since. so when you open the front door of your dorm building and are met with zeke, standing in the rain in a long brown coat and damp hair, it takes you an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it’s really him.

you’re out of milk. you’re just trying to go down to the shop. why does this have to happen now?

“hey,” zeke says, smiling at you when your eyes finally refocus on his face. he doesn’t make any move to come in and you’re grateful because you don’t know if you would have stopped him.

“what are you doing here?” you blurt out. a part of you had thought he’d given up for now, that he’d wait a while and enjoy his new fresh single life without you. with pieck and whoever else he wants to play around with and oh god you’re bitter. you don’t want to be bitter but you are. being stuck convincing yourself that he doesn’t care about you and isn’t going to see you while also hoping that he does and he will has just made you like that.

“i was hoping you’d see me now,” he says, and his smile finally starts to slowly drop away from his face, “was hoping your bodyguards wouldn’t be on the lookout.”

you laugh. and then stop when you realise he’s watching you, “does eren know you’re here?”

“does it matter?” he shoots back almost immediately. you glance away from him. you wonder if he can even really hear you over the cars roaring past and the rain splattering onto the concrete pavement.

“i don’t know.”

“i miss you,” zeke says, and you think you can just about make out his feet about to move, about to step into the building, but he seems to know better because he’s quickly retracting back to his spot.

“yeah,” you breathe out, “i miss you too.”

“so will you listen to me?” zeke looks at you expectantly, like it’d make him the happiest in the world if you just endured his excuses and his confessions and his declarations of whatever love he has for you.

his lost puppy.

you still don’t know if you care about whether or not he deserves you.

“okay,” you practically whisper, and zeke’s tense shoulders drop.

“i’m sorry–” but you’re seeing red the moment he starts talking.

“are you gonna say it’s a mix up now as well?” you cut in before he even has the chance to start, and zeke seems so surprised that you’re echoing back his texts, that you’re not patiently waiting for the words you want to hear. the ‘i love you’, the ‘please forgive me.’ and you want to hear them, you do, but you’re so fucking mad. at him, at pieck (it wasn’t hard to figure out that it was her), at yourself.

at yourself.

“that was– i shouldn’t have said that,” zeke says, and you want to believe in the shame permeating his voice.

“so did you or did you not sleep with pieck?” even though you know the answer, a part of you still hopes he says no. that you can still hold onto a sliver of denial, of belief that he would never do this to you.

“not sleep– i– we didn’t really–” zeke interrupts his choppy statements and runs an exasperated hand through wet hair, “i fucked up, okay?”

“yeah.”

“i was just mad, and hurt, and i wanted someone to be with me–”

“and that person wasn’t me.”

“i wish it was. i really wish it was.”

you want to call him a liar.

“you could have texted me. i would’ve came back.”

“you had just stormed off,” zeke says, “you were mad. we were both mad.”

“you really hurt me, zeke.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he’s practically babbling. and you don’t know how you’re suddenly standing so close until you glance back behind you and realise that you’ve stepped out of the doorway, that you’ve been inching towards him this entire time.

“did you plan it? did you call her over just to fuck her behind my back?” you know you’re being aggressive, and harsh and whatever else it is that you know zeke doesn’t like in girls (and maybe that’s exactly why you’re being like that. how the fuck else does he think you’ll act?) but you can’t look at him anymore without thinking about the fact that he just…betrayed you. zeke is immediately interjecting.

“no! no, we were just gonna hang out. i didn’t fu– no,” zeke spews out, and he’s suddenly reaching up to his glasses and pushing them up over his forehead and into his hair. before you know it, he has both hands planted on your shoulders and is peering at you like he’s begging. is he begging? do you want him to beg?

“i love you, okay?” zeke says. and you believe him. you want to believe him. you look up at him in silence. the weight of his hands on your shoulders make you feel like you’re going to melt, and you can make out a small trickle of water moving down his temple and to his jaw. pretty words from a pretty face.

“i love you too,” you whisper back, and zeke’s muscles untense. you didn’t think he’d hear you over the rain.

“can we try again? please?” he says, and he sounds apologetic. he sounds sincere. you want to say yes, you want to believe that he does love you and it was a mistake. maybe then your head will feel less heavy and your chest will finally let you breathe. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad – he’s practically pleading. he’s standing out here in the rain pleading, and the more you look at him the more you just want to launch yourselves into his arms and bury this deep within you.

“i…” you start. zeke’s eyes are blue and hopeful. you had missed when he looked at you like that. maybe–

a car horn blares as it skids across the road behind zeke.

this time when you look at him, you see him and pieck at that restaurant from ages ago, laughing and smiling.

“i have to go.”

you retreat behind the door and shut it behind you after tearing yourself away from zeke’s grasp. he watches you with a clenched jaw.

you never end up getting the milk.

*~*

NOW

you nurse your cup of tea carefully on the couch next to zeke.

it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that you can’t tell he keeps glancing your way as you both aimlessly scroll through your phones. you have texts from sasha and mikasa practically berating you (and you know eren is a little snitch because they hadn’t even seen zeke last night and now you’re stuck avoiding their messages until you figure this whole thing out.)

and zeke…god, zeke.he still takes up an entire room even when he’s not trying to. every time he shifts in his seat, or clears his throat, or quietly laughs at something on his phone, you’re gripping your mug of tea for dear life like it’ll somehow keep you tethered. it’s so much effort that you wonder if you should have just let him kiss you before at the kitchen, if the way your heart beats when you let him have you is easier to deal with than how it beats when you’re trying to work around him.

you start typing out a text to sasha for a ride home – she’d probably be the less overwhelmingly disappointed of the two girls. and zeke seems to hear your typing because he’s suddenly leaning closer to you and peering over your phone. he used to do that a lot when you were together and for some reason you loved it. because there was nothing to hide and it made you feel like he was interested. you don’t know why you needed proof of his interest in you way after you had gotten together but that was just how it was.

but now, now you’re not together and you do have stuff to hide. like how you want him to disappear right now because you don’t want to deal with feeling like that about someone again.

“i can give you a ride home,” zeke says, leaning back away from you and training his gaze on you. when you lift your mug again you realise it’s empty and suddenly it feels like there’s nothing left to do but look back at him as well.

“privacy, zeke,” you say.

“i was curious.”

“okay, then,” you conclude and lean closer to him to peer at his phone in his hands, mimicking his movements earlier, “carry on then.”

“hey,”zeke laughs, trying to pull his phone away from your line of vision, “back off.”

“what? i’m curious,” you retort, and the way zeke is smiling widely back at you as you settle your weight onto him to stop him from moving his phone makes you think maybe you don’t have to move so soon. zeke wraps an arm around your back as you continue to lean over his lap, now sidled up right next to him, and watch him scroll through instagram.

“gross,” zeke says suddenly.

“what?”

“you still smell like last night,” zeke teases, chuckling when it takes you a few seconds to realise what he’s said. and you’re immediately reaching an arm behind you to grab at one of the cushions on the couch but when you try to lean away to reach it, zeke’s grip on you tightens and he brings you back towards him.

“thought you said you were curious,” he comments when you look up at him.

you freeze in his grasp. you know you shouldn’t stay; you knowthis. but you just can’t bring yourself to get up and say goodbye and thank zeke for the bed and just leaving. what is it going to take? his arm around you right now certainly isn’t making things any better.

it’s just making you want to stay with him more.

and you haven’t felt like that in more than a year, so you’re slowly inching away from him again and out of his grasp. zeke looks at you in confusion, waiting for you to say something. you don’t know what there is to say.

“i think i should go now,” you carefully drawl out.

“you don’t have to,” zeke says simply.

“i think i should,” you repeat, and it takes almost every ounce of you to start to get up from the couch, to try to not look back at zeke when you can practically feel his eyes boring through you. and just as you’re about to finally start walking back up to his room to get the rest of your stuff, just as you’re about to finally escape his reaches (that would be so much easier to just stay in) his hand is wrapping around your wrist.

he's not pulling you back or anything, he’s just…holding your wrist. but it’s enough to make you freeze and look back at him despite your better judgement. zeke takes a deep breath.

“i’ve been trying to tell you this since last night,” he starts, and you can feel your head start spinning because what the fuck is he talking about and why does he decide to do this when you’re finally so close to regaining some self-respect?

you swallow, “tell me what?”

“sit down?” he asks. (usually, he just tells you to. you don’t know why you’re noticing that now.) when you don’t sit, he sighs, “i’m…”

“you’re…”

“i’m moving back.”

“huh?”

“…i’m moving back here.”

“…right.”

fuck.

*~*

THEN

when eren, sasha and mikasa find out that zeke had gone to see you, they’re livid. and you know they just had your best interest at heart, but did they really expect zeke of all people to just leave everything alone? did they really believe it when eren said that you were just his lost puppy…that maybe zeke didn’t love you at all?

this is what you think for a while after your encounter with zeke, which is your final proper conversation with him for a while.

“you good?” jean speaks into your ear, cutting you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the flashing lights of the club you’re all currently at for the night.

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, pretending that you haven’t just caught yourself searching for a scruffy blond head among the crowd on the dance floor. you look across the tall bar table and find eren staring at you and you find yourself immediately looking back at jean without even really meaning to. you don’t know what’s gotten into you the past few days, but every time you try to speak to eren or he tries to speak to you, you just feel your heart dropping again.

“hey!” sasha exclaims as she rounds the bar table and moves over to you, her arm looped enthusiastically around mikasa’s who offers you a small smile, “we’re gonna head to the bathroom. coming?”

you nod, propping yourself up from leaning on the bar table and lacing your arm around sasha’s, letting her lead you and mikasa to the toilets. it’s just flashing lights and music and silhouettes frantically jumping around as sasha decides to take a shortcut through the crowd and tightens her grip around you and mikasa.

there’re so many people here. the chances you bump into zeke are low. but you hate that you know that he’s in town and you hate how aware you are that it’s a friday night and this seems like just the place zeke would be (spread out over whatever seat he can find, acting nonchalant and cool and not particularly interested in the chaos around him. and probably with pieck.)

you shake your head, it’s been weeks. a month or two, even, since you’ve last seen him. and you want to believe that it’s gotten easier and things are okay now. that the times you have to catch sight of him shopping, or leaving the house when you’re all cooped up at eren’s, are times that have passed and times that you can deal with. you’ll make yourself believe them.

eventually you, mikasa and sasha have made it halfway across the dancefloor to get to the bathrooms, brushing shoulders with practically everyone in the crowd and you’re suddenly bumping straight into someone’s chest, hearing a yelp from both you and this stranger.

“shit, i’m so sorry,” you sputter, trying to regain your balance and realising that cold liquid is now slowly seeping into your dress. for god’s sake, they were carrying a drink this deep into the crowd? it’s fine, it doesn’t matter, it’s just a drink. it’s just a drink and a stain you can wash off in the toilets until you’re looking up and even in the dark you can make out blue eyes staring back at you. you can make out blond hair through the flickering lights.

“hey, you,” zeke speaks before you say anything. sasha seems to only have realised that you and mikasa aren’t with her anymore because you can make out her slowly returning figure in the corner of your eyes.

“hi,” you say as steadily as you can muster. “zeke.”

mikasa’s now the one looping an arm through yours as she waits for sasha to make her way back to the pair of you and slightly tugs you towards her.

your eyes flicker down to the person hanging off of zeke’s arm. a girl. she’s pretty. you don’t want your heart to race but it does. now you think you’re just trying to look anywhere that isn’t him to regain some sort of composure at this run-in that isn’t just accidentally catching sight of him in the street because now he’s talking to you. you scan the set of couches far behind him and the rest of the crowd, find pieck sitting off in the far distance, chatting away to porco and–

“hi,” zeke cuts into your attempt at distracting yourself from the fact that he’s standing in front of you. he looks at you like he’s forgotten he’s already said hello, “it’s been a while.”

“yeah,” you croak out. the girl beside him looks up at him expectantly and you can feel yourself slightly recoiling.

“we gotta go,” mikasa monotonously says, not even sparing zeke a glance. or a chance to say anything more.

“right, uh…”

“it’s fine,” zeke says, smiling at you like he did when he had first met you. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah.”

you both know you’re lying.

when you finally reach the bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror waiting for mikasa and sasha to finish up. and you think that…that really sucked. it sucked seeing him here, seeing him with someone else – just seeing him. and there was a part of you that wanted him to shamelessly flirt with you like he always used to or grab your hand and tell you he missed you.

but you think that this time was better than the last time you saw him and the time before that and the time before that…and maybe getting over him won’t be so hard.

maybe moving on from him won’t be so bad.

*~*

NOW

“i miss you,” zeke says, and it’s echoing in your head like a distant memory has somehow manifested its way into your present. his hand is still wrapped around your wrist but this time he’s stood up from the couch and has your hand raised up towards him.

“why are you telling me this?” you ask quietly. he’s moving back. you got over him…you were gettingover him, and now he’s back. now you have to feel his presence. now you’re going to just…you’re going to love him again. right?

“because it’s the truth,” zeke confesses. and you know that it is, that he’s telling the truth – but it still feels like a lie. everything he says always feels like a lie, like it’s meant to keep you on your toes. meant to keep you guessing, “because i know you miss me too.”

“zeke…” you don’t even know what to say to him. you used to live for this, you thought you still did, and there’s a part of you still being pulled towards him and wanting to tell him that’s he’s right. he’s completely right.

“what happened back then – all the shit that happened back then – it was fucked up,” zeke clasps your hand in both of his and you can feel his breath on your skin.

“i…”

“but, i’m sorry. and i’m different,” zeke continues, thumb softly brushing over the back of your palm.

“really?” you can’t help but ask.

“really. and i’m here to stay.”

it feels like your jaw is clamped shut. like all the things you’ve wanted to say to him for the past year and a half have just fizzled out of your mind.

“i’m different too…” you try to start, but the words keep escaping you before you even have a chance to grab at them. zeke gazes down at you and nods, trying to urge you to go on.

“i know,” zeke says, “i know. so can we…start over?”

“start over?”

“yeah.”

like it never happened? like all this time you’ve spent trying to build yourself into someone that didn’t need zeke’s pretty words or rushed affections was for nothing? like what a part of you has been secretly hoping for since he moved away?

“zeke…you cheatedon me.”

“i know–”

“you fucked with me. like all the time.”

“i know–”

“you knew how i felt about you and you still did it.”

“i know. and i wish i never did. i fucked up. i am fucked up. but i still love you.”

you carefully pull your hand away from his grasp. what the hell do you say to that? what the hell do you do with that? how are you supposed to deal with him being around again all the time? how are you supposed to deal with him probably prancing in and out of your life again all the time? how are you supposed to deal with him, knowing that this sickening magnetic pull won’t get any weaker unless you spend all your time pulling yourself back until your muscles ache?

zeke watches you carefully.

“i don’t know what to say,” you quietly mutter, gaze trained on your feet.

“say you love me as well,” zeke softly responds, snaking a hand up to your chin and tilting it back up to him. it makes you sick that you’re still melting into his touch. and when you realise he’s about to sneak a kiss onto your lips, you let him. you’ll let him just this once, you promise yourself.

you let your eyes flutter closed and let him cup your face tenderly and let him slowly pull you closer to him until he decides to pull away. until you open your eyes again and look up at him, and it hurts watching him smile at you like you’re the sun when you realise that all you can do is leave him here and walk out of the door.

“i’m sorry, zeke,” you say, and his hand instantly drops from your face.

“what?” he asks, starting to back away from you.

“i can’t do this anymore.”

“what– what do you mean?” zeke sputters. you’re grinding your teeth against each other whenever you have the chance. zeke is staring at you like you’re ripping something away from you.

“i…i’m gonna go home.”

“are you serious?” zeke inquires as you start to turn around. and it doesn’t even sound accusatory, or angry because zeke was never like that. it just sounds disappointed. it sounds like if he were saying that to the you from a year and a half ago, you’d be running back into his arms.

“yeah.”

“you still love me as well,” he calls out after you, “i know you do.”

when you turn back to face him fully, practically on the other side of the room now, you watch zeke’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows slowly, waiting for you to say something back. you think you’re always going to want to go back to him – at least a little bit. but now…now you won’t give yourself up for it.

“yeah, i do,” you say, making your way to the door. zeke slowly follows after you. eren will just drop whatever you left here to your place. there’s still the small fear that if zeke just does something, you’ll find yourself back to him in no time.

“so why won’t you stay?” zeke asks, but you’re already at the door, and you think at this point he knows you’re not going to come back inside with him.

“because…”

zeke looks at you like he’s losing you.

you take a breath.

“because i’ll get over it.”

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#zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot angst #zeke angst #zeke yeager #aot sfw #Zeke fic

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rkived · 4 years

Text

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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kisslettrs · 4 years

Text

haikyuu characters talking after a fight with their s/o

featuring: lev, kuroo, suna

a/n: first post woo! hope you enjoy this ! ALSO UM. THEY TURNED OUT TO BE SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT THEYD BE??? ESPECIALLY KUROOS LMAO THEYRE NEVER THIS LONG I PROMISE DONT GET YOUR HOPES UP OR VICE VERSA. also not beta read soz 💔

warnings: none i don’t think? relationship fights ig. oh and angsty with some gushy shit at the end for each of them 💞

→ HAIBIA LEV

you and lev rarely get into fights. only small complains about his behavior and him whining, or friendly petty arguments. but last night was different... I guess you could say.

lev was always pretty immature and playful yeah, but sometimes it felt like he never took anything seriously. it felt as though he never took him and your relationship seriously. especially now, when you decided to confront him about it.

“why are you laughing...?” you asked, staring at him

“i-i’m sorry, y/n honey, i just...!” he said, covering his mouth as a half assed attempt to keep in his laughter.

“lev, i know it’s just in your nature to act like this but I’m being genuine. i’m not joking, please. you’re doing it again! please just listen—!”

you were cut off again by the sounds of your significant other’s laughter, causing all your frustration to let loose.

“lev haiba!”

he immediately stopped, before looking at you in the eyes, his thin pupils meeting yours.

“i’m sorry. but lev, please can you just take me seriously for once?! i love you, but you need to understand that you can’t just—!” you frailed your hand around, motioning towards him, you, whatever this scene was. “—you can’t just do this all the time I—!”

before you could finish, your mind had been too pent up with frustration. “nevermind...” you grabbed your bag, before rushing out the door, not giving him the chance to talk.

fast forward next day, and you checked your phone.

[32 new messages from favorite dork 💝]

you sigh heavily, before letting the cold feeling of guilt claw at the back of your head. you hadn’t mean to make lev worry, you just needed your time alone. although if you did have to be honest with yourself, leaving without a ‘i love you,’ or hell even just a ‘bye’ was cruel.

as you opened your messages, you were bombarded with messages of pleas and apologizes that were sent at 9:21 PM last night, moments after you left his house. the guilt swallowed your stomach again, your hands slowly typing; “it’s ok hun. really. I love you too.” and pressing send.

you threw your phone onto your bed, before deciding to get ready. you and lev never really saw each other much since you two were in different grades, he was a first year, you were a second. you both had to wait after school, or well... maybe moments after. your phone buzzed a few times, but you decided to ignore it. it was too early.

schools over, and you’re walking home. you were gonna talk to lev today, just not now. you didn’t wanna interrupt his volleyball training just for some stupid relationship issue. as soon as you reach home however, you see a familiar tall figure fidgeting on his phone.

“...lev?” you called out, causing the silver haired boy to whip his head around, his eyes lighting up. “Y/N!”

he quickly shoved his phone inside his pocket, before running up to you and embracing you in a warm hug, shaking you a little. “y/n! y/n! i’m sorry for being stupid last night, I’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” he was squeezing you tight, and god did it hurt hearing his voice break like that.

“lev, sweetie, i told you it’s okay, really.” you spoke, caressing his back. he seemed to stay still for a moment, before speaking once again. “is this okay? me holding you like this, is this okay or do you... need space?”

you smiled softly. it made you happy lev wanted to make sure he wasn’t overstepping any of your boundaries. you felt your other arm hold him. “yeah, this is okay.” you swore you could feel him smile out of relief.

“i’m... i’m sorry again y/n honey, it’s just hard for me, i don’t...” he paused. “it’s just...difficult for me to handle situations like that.” you nuzzled into his shoulder. “it’s okay, you dork. i understand.” you reassured him again.

“but—!” he pushed back, meeting your eyes. “i’m gonna try...i’m gonna try harder. i’m gonna try to be better, for you y/n! i love you so much... i’ll do my best.” god, this dork. no wonder you loved him so much. you cupped his cheeks. “i’ll do better too lev, i won’t be as mean again. i promise, i love you too, so much.”

and with that, both of your faces met, and the two of you kissed lightly.

→ KUROO TETSURO

you and kuroo get into small arguments here and there like every other couple, and whenever you do you two usually recover quickly. you both like to call them ‘squicks.’

however, that night there was no denying that wasn’t any other normal squick you two had. no, that was a fight.

kuroo and you haven’t had a moment alone that wasn’t just you and him walking back home, and it’s been making you upset. so uh, that night you decided to confront him about it.

yeah it didn’t go well uhh

“i know we’re like, a couple y/n. but honey you have to understand i’m busy. you have friends don’t you? go hang out with them or something.”

“yeah, i know kuroo, and trust me i’m happy for you! but you’ve been so distant, we haven’t had a moment alone that lasted more than 5 minutes for like, 2 months! it wasn’t a big deal then, but i miss you and i’m worried.”

you paused, before continuing. “don’t you wanna spend some time with me? just, for like 30 minutes? don’t you miss me?”

“i do, y/n. i miss you and i love you. but like i said i’m busy with volleyball, you aren’t my top priority right now.”

“it’s been 2 months kuroo!” you shouted, causing him to widen his eyes. “don’t you understand? i’m not asking for your top attention, I’m asking for you to give me 25% of it at least!”

it was quiet for a moment. “sorry.” was all he said, before turning around his eyes focused on the volleyball between his feet.

you felt hurt and frustrated. “you know what? fine.” he immediately went back to look at you, seeing you grab your bag. “see you whenever you feel like to acknowledge my existence, I guess. bye.”

as soon as you touched the doorknob, you could hear him get up and say the words ‘wait, baby wait—‘ but you had enough. you needed to air out your head of the tension and frustration of the house and you left. you felt tears peak at the corner of your eyes as soon as you did.

next day, and you’ve been feeling shittier than usual. as soon as you woke up, you turned to make you lay on your back, staring at your ceiling and thinking; “was i too harsh? am i being too selfish? too clingy?”

you loved what your boyfriend did and you were perfectly fine with him having his time to himself. you knew you weren’t his top priority and he wasn’t yours. but 2 months with little to no communication felt too long. was it wrong to want to spend at least 30 minutes with your boyfriend? was that too much to ask for?

the anxiety raced to your head again. what if you were being too clingy. maybe kuroo had the right to be upset too. you were being too selfish, stop thinking of yourself so often. you curled up into your side. you didn’t want to think about it, and you didn’t want to see him in the halls either. you didn’t even wanna check your phone to see if you messaged you.

you decided to skip, staying home, watching TV and playing some games. you couldn’t mentally handle seeing him. at least not for right now.

some time passes by, and your phone is buzzing. you checked the time from the small clock on your wall, seeing the handles pointing towards 4:30 PM. oh wow, after school clubs should be over too.

you grabbed your phone to see who it’s by, knowing deep down it was who you thought it was.

[23 new messages by Hubby 😾💗]

[Kyanma: uhh hey y/n? did something...]

[2 missed calls by Hubby 😾💗]

choosing to ignore kuroo for now, you swiped at Kenma’s notification and read the full message.

[Kyanma: uhh hey y/n? did something happen with kuroo that youre aware of??? he seemed so much more down than usual during practice.

you: no. we rarely talk anymore because of practice lol I guess.

Kyanma: ???

Kyanma: Did something happen between YOU two?

you: we had a fight. im not really in the mood to talk to him. I skipped school. itll be back to normal in a few more days, sorry for the inconvenience snchsychsj

Kyanma: you two should resolve that. like seriously. hope u two feel better tho, bye✌️

you: we will hopefully lol bye kenma !!]

sighing, you placed your phone down on the small coffee table infront of you, but as soon did, you heard a knock coming from your front door. humming in response, you got up and made your way towards the front door, but decided to look through the peephole to make sure it wasn’t some scammer person or creep.

well, it was neither of those two but it was in fact no one else other than kuroo tetsuro. you sighed heavily again, before unlocking the door and turning the knob opening up to your boyfriend.

“hey y/n.”

“hi kuroo.”

you folded your arms, deciding to put up a strong facade, pretending you weren’t mentally screaming and that anxiety wasn’t clawing at your back. “did you forget something or...?”

kuroo brought his hand to the back of neck, awkwardly scratching it. “yeah uh...” he looked around, not wanting to make eye contact. “um. listen y/n.” he made his way to grab your hands, holding them together. “i’m sorry. i really am.”

“please don’t touch me. not right now at least...” even though you seemed so desperate for his touch the other night, you really did need your space. kuroo seemed alarmed at first, quickly swiping his hands back, wanting to respect your space. “of course baby! i’m sorry for acting too soon.”

you watched him scramble around a bit, finding it a bit cute. “can I come inside?” he asked. you nodded, and both of you went inside and sat to your coach.

“like I said y/n. i know ive been distant, and ive missed you so much. god, do I miss you. i wanna hug you and cuddle you so bad but volleyball and the nationals have been bugging me i couldn’t have find the proper time. i’m just scared... and I...”

“kuroo.” you said. his head snatched upwards, looking at you. you were gonna say something as soon as he did but the look he gave you caught you off guard. he looked like a cat pleading.

as soon as you pushed away the thoughts of him being stupidly adorable, you continued your sentence. “I understand, and i’m sorry for being too clingy. i just miss you a lot. i’m willing to wait for you, baby.” as soon as you said that, you saw his eyes pierce through your soul. fuck did I say something wrong.

before you could say anything else, it was kuroo’s turn to speak. “no baby. it’s alright, you aren’t the one at fault here it was me. i’m sorry for not listening to you that night. i’m gonna be a better boyfriend, i’m gonna be the boyfriend you deserve through and through.”

fucking idiot, i’m the one who was supposed to say sorry, not you! You didn’t say anything for a moment, before laughing lightly. “babe? i love you but i have to be the one who takes at least, 50% of the fault. it’s okay, i love you and i forgive you. and i’m happy for what you’re doing and how far you’ve come.” you placed your hand on his. “you can touch me now.”

his eyes immediately lit up, his lips curving into a smile and you swore you could see tears start forming in his eyes before he launched himself onto you. “my god y/n, how did i get so lucky. i love you so much, i love you so much.” he hugged you tight. you laughed. “i love you too kuroo. so much, i love you so much. i’m the lucky one.”

he pulled away and brought you to a kiss. before you could respond, he asked, “are you free saturday?”

→ SUNA RINTARO

while suna and you disagreed on a lot of things from time to time, you two usually both came to a mutual agreement and it wasn’t anything big.

but lately he seemed even more off than usual. communication was such a huge thing between both of you, but he seemed to just not be...cooperating?

suna is someone who doesn’t like expressing his emotions. and as his significant other, you felt like understanding him was a priority. but you just didn’t sometimes and it made you worry. him being distant did not help.

one day when you decided to bring it up, the situation got a bit... out of hand

“what?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders. “i don’t know. suna i care for you, and you just never helping me understand makes me extremely upset! i know it’s hard for you, but...”

you could feel him roll his eyes. “i don’t know what you’re going on about y/n,” he looked at you. “but really, i’m fine. do you not trust me to talk to you or something?”

“no..!” you denied. “listen. youve been getting more and more tired each day and i could tell. you’ve been ghosting me too.”

“...what?” he basically hissed it. “i’m not an asshole y/n. nothing is wrong. why do you keep trying to butt your head into my life every second?” his voice began to raise.

this was rare. even when he did raise his voice at you, it was never filled with negative intent but this time...

“i can take care of myself, y/n. i don’t need you and your noisy nose in my business all the time. sorry if you feel like you’re on baby sitting duty, but you really don’t need to be so clingy and emotional all the time...”

well damn. his words hurt. a lot.

“sorry for caring for you then, damn...” you grumble under your breath. you quickly grabbed your house keys and bags. he perked his head up. “y/n? where are you going?”

you didn’t reply. “y/n!” you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your chest and stomach, before opening the door and leaving.

as soon as you woke up, your head hurt more than usual. those words must’ve hit you deeper than they should’ve, huh?

maybe i was just being too clingy, you thought, and those thoughts hadn’t left your mind the whole morning. whatever, you’ll just apologize after school.

you haven’t seen suna at all that day, not on the walk to school, not in the halls, not in his classroom. he was... nowhere. when you went to the volleyball club after school, asking if any of the members had seen him all of them replied with a simple ‘no.’

kita specically had been giving you long glances ever since you arrived. once you finally reached him, instead of denying seeing your boyfriend, he told you, “he wasn’t in school at all i assume. maybe he’s at home.”

home? why would he be home? maybe he was feeling sick...

you bowed and thanked him and the rest of the teammates before leaving. on your way home, you decided to stop by a connivence store and buy him his favorite snack, chuupet. or well, just jelly fruit snacks. you bought 2 packs for you and him, hoping it was a good time to apologize.

you walked up to his house, knocked lightly on the door and was greeted by his mother. “ah~ greetings y/n!” you smiled lightly and gave her a wave. “good afternoon! say, is rintaro home?” you asked. she nodded, moving to the side as a way to invite you in the house. “he should be in his room!”

“thank you!” you bowed quickly before making your way up the stairs. as soon as you passed by his sisters room, there you were infront of his. with your free hand, you lightly held a fist and began knocking on his door.

“suna? rintaro?” you called out. you would call him by a sweet pet name but remembering last night, you didn’t wanna break any boundaries. the room was quiet, and though you really didn’t wanna disturb him, you wanted to make sure he was okay. as soon as you did, however, you were greeted by a sight that broke your heart.

suna rintaro, the boy you loved so much, had his hair messier than usual, his eyes seemed red from crying and he was up against his bed frame, his phone in his hand. when he looked up, he saw you, his eyes widening.

“...y-y/n?” you stood there frozen. “rintaro...honey my god,” you quickly went up to him. “what happened?” you looked at him, his gaze looking down. you wanted to hug him so bad, but yet again, that argument you had last night prevented you from anything.

“hey. listen, sweetie. i got your favorite.” you held up the 2 bags of jelly fruit gummies. “it’s gonna be okay, okay? i’m here.” he was just looking at you, not saying anything, before muttering something under his breath.

“huh? what was that? i didn’t hear you hon, what’s up?” you asked, making sure to keep your distance. suna choked back a sob, before launching himself onto you, almost knocking you into the ground. “w-woah there!”

“y/n... i’m sorry i’m so sorry. i’ve been so frustrated with school... exams... volleyball and i’ve missed you so much but i was so tired that night! i lashed out on you but i didn’t mean any of it. i promise, i promise, don’t leave me please.” he sobbed quietly, his head resting against your forehead. when you looked up, you could see him squeezing his eyes shut.

wow, this was even more rare.

you brought your arms to his neck, embracing him. “it’s okay rintaro. shh, it’s gonna be okay. i love you and i’m sorry for being upset, i just worry about you.” you rubbed his back lightly as he continued sobbing, allowing you to give him a few kisses on the cheek, neck and forehead. “you’re safe, you’re gonna be okay honey. i love you so much.” you repeated.

suna never showed his emotions much, but he seemed to have a lot of pent up anger, sadness and confusion up in him, and he let it out for an hour infront of you, there to comfort him.

as soon as he stopped, you and him were snuggling on his bed watching whatever was on his TV, eating the fruit snacks. he leaned onto your head. “i love you...please, don’t leave me. i’m sorry.”

you bumped your head back onto him. “stop apologizing. i keep telling you it’s okay.” you giggled lightly. “please sweetie, talk to me so this doesn’t happen again.” he only nodded silently, before drifting to sleep in your embrace.

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

Nuclear Family I

A/N: As requested (accidentally deleted the ask soz) a Dad!Harry where you visit him with your daughter and you live together as a family even though the reality is far from it. But for the sake of your kid you put up with it. The next part gets better promise!

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

--------

“Charlie don’t get too far,” I call out to my three year old. She gives me a disappointed look but I return one of my own and she drags her feet back to me.

Sometimes it felt like it had always been just me and Charlotte and other times it was hard to believe it would be almost four years since I’d had her. The moment she was born-two weeks early-on a rainy August day, I knew I made the right choice to keep her.

“When are we getting on the airplane?” my daughter pouts. She reminded me so much of her father with her bold eyes framed by her lowered brows. I remember when I held her for the first time in my arms and she blinked up at me, her big eyes were a dewy field reflecting her father. It was then that it hit me that no matter where he and I were on earth-we were still somehow connected. And since I was still in love with him then, it hurt. But I learned soon to pour my love into Charlotte and focus on raising her the best I could.

“We’ll be boarding soon." I pick her up and hold her on my knees to keep her from running off again. This was my first time travelling with her-her father generally came down to LA a few times a year to visit her so we never had the need to make the trip. This time, for her fourth birthday, we’d decided to go to London and stay there for the month. And since I was my own boss, I could take my work anywhere.

“I want to see daddy,” Charlie whines.

"We will babe,” I try to soothe her.

“Daddy” was Harry Styles, the Harry Styles. We met through a friend over six years ago when he was in LA. Up until meeting him, it felt like I was living a grey version of my life. Our chemistry was explosive and our connection instant--colouring my world a vibrant hue. We were in love-so in love I moved to London a few months later to be with him and it was going perfectly until I got pregnant. We agreed to keep the baby-it was a no brainer, but as the months went by and the reality sunk in, our relationship took a hit. Suddenly we were arguing about insignificant things, Harry stayed out late with friends or in the studio and wasn’t as supportive as he should have been, and I wasn’t happy. When I brought up the separation Harry looked almost relieved-which hurt. When I brought up moving back to LA he was enraged, but after a few days he agreed. Now, our Charlie saw him a few times a year when he lived in LA and she would stay with him. Our interactions were limited to picking her up and as I’d heard it Harry had a steady girlfriend for the past year. Despite all that, I still loved him. What we had was unlike anything I’d felt, seen, or read about before. I knew he'd felt it too, the music he released spoke the words he never said. But the ugliness of the last few months of our relationship always kept me from remaining wistful. Harry didn’t want commitement. He only had room in his heart for our daughter and I was fine with that.

We were staying around the corner from Harry’s at an air bnb for convenience. Ever since having Charlotte, I hadn’t been outside of the US so this was exciting yet daunting. The idea of seeing London again, all my old friends, and Harry gave me a rush of mixed emotions.

The landing and locating of our luggage had a few bumps and a minor tantrum but our taxi takes us to the flat where we are met with the hostess.

“There’s been a terrible mistake,” she wrings her hands as we stand in the heat of the summer afternoon.

“What kind of mistake?” My heart drops and there’s a tugging on my dress. Charlotte demands to be picked up.

“We accidentally booked another couple to the flat.” The woman responds.

“What?” If I wasn’t this tired, I would be shouting. “How can you make a mistake like that? I booked this well in advance!”

“I understand,” the woman says. “Your booking must have been accidentally cancelled and I-the couple is fine with sharing the flat-”

“I have a small child with me as you can see,” I cut her off not going into detail why our privacy was extremely important. “I’m not living with two strangers when I secured the place for all of August. This is bullshit,” I spit out, forgetting Charlie could hear me. This trip was not going how it should be. “I’m contacting air bnb and-”

My rant is cut short when my phone vibrates. Harry.

“Hi,” I answer.

“Daddy!” Charlotte yells into my ear. I hush her with a glance and try to listen to what Harry was saying.

“-landed? I was trying to reach you where are you?”

I sigh and give the woman a dirty look. “We’ve just arrived at the bnb and apparently there’s been a ‘mistake’ and it’s double booked so now I don’t know where-”

“Shit, stay with me,” comes Harry's steady voice.

“I couldn’t,” comes my own, slightly less steady voice. Staying with Harry would be bad for me. It would only stir old emotions back up and make it harder to leave once again. I just knew it.

“I’m right around the corner Y/N. Just stay until you find another place at least.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I agree and order an Uber, giving the woman a piece of my mind before I go.

Charlotte had fallen asleep on my shoulder in the midst of all of it so I struggle with the child, our luggage, and my phone when I reach Harry's.

“I’ll be right down,” he says. My stomach is suddenly doing sommersaults and I can barely feel my legs. I saw Harry near Christmas! Why was I suddenly so nervous?

“Hey,” Harry enters the lobby in a black shirt and jeans and his glasses sit atop his mess of hair. “You look lovely Y/N, but that’s nothing new.”

Harry's grin is like a crack in the ice surrounding us and I give him a quick hug hello.

“Let me get that.” He grabs the luggage and we wait for the elevator again.

“She fell asleep,” Harry brushes our daughter’s hands and she shifts on my shoulder.

“She’s been doing that since the ride,” I say. “I think jet lag is already doing her in.”

Harry smiles at her and the tenderness in his gaze holds me captive. It was a while since I saw Harry look like that.

Harry gets the luggage onto the lift and I follow him in. The mirrored interior reflects the glimpses he takes of me but I stay staring forward, not wanting to give in.

“Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I ask Harry when we enter his flat. “That we’re staying with you.”

“About that,” Harry scratches his nose. “I’m sure she’ll understand. We should talk though…about the trip.”

“Of course, let me just put Charlotte to bed.” Harry points out the spare room and I can tell Charlie will like it here with the amount of stuffed animals Harry's decorated the bed with. She was spoiled.

“So you can stay as long as you want here,” Harry begins. “Or if you want to find someplace else I understand. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

He holds my gaze as he talks and I nod along. It was all very proper and polite, almost as if we’d never had anything more than a friendly relationship.

“What’s your schedule like?” I ask. “I know we already figured things out but if I’m staying for a few days here will I be in the way of anything?”

“I’m filming in a few days, I took a lot of time off the next couple weeks for Charlie but that’s it. Then I'm in the studio after that." Harry scratches the back of his head. “Just make yourself at home don’t worry what I’ve got to do.”

“I don’t want to get in the way. I know we didn’t plan for this,” I flush. Harry reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

“I want you to feel comfortable, love...”

I’m suddenly 21 and Harry and I are on one of our first dates at a bar. He holds onto my hand and tells me he really likes me. He asks me if we wanted to take our relationship past the dating stage. I’m giddy and drunk on love and kiss him yes.

“Mom?” A small voice calls out.

“Yes!” I jump up and shake the memories off, rushing to the spare room. Charlotte sits up in bed with a frown on her grumpy face. “I’m right here babe.” I scoop her up and she holds onto me, already holding a stuffed koala in the other hand.

“So you’ve met Mr. Blake.” Harry walks into the room and points to the koala.

And just like that Charlotte is jumping into her dad’s arms and bubbling with laughter, explaining how his real name is Oreo. My heart squeezes watching the two interact. Charlie is more awake than before the plane ride as she continues with her endless chatter. Harey is wide-eyed and drinking in everything she says. She says something funny and he throws his head back laughing, kissing the side of her head while she giggles. Seeing them two made my heart full.

“Momma I’m hungry,” Charlie says abruptly.

“You must be,” I look at the time. “It’s been a while since we ate.”

“Let’s have an early dinner out,” Harry suggests.

“That’s not necessary-” I try to say but Charlie cuts me off with a big cheer and soon Harry joins in and he’s off with her riding his back with her hands clasped tightly around his neck. I would never win with those two together so I find my wallet and join them.

“I didn’t realise how much I needed this,” Harry says on our walk to the restaurant. It was a ten minute walk Harry wanted to take, reassuring me that we wouldn't be bothered. Charlotte holds her dad’s hand and stares in wonder at the new city around her. “I can’t believe you-she-Charlie hasn’t ever been down here.”

“She was so excited to finally see where her Dad lives,” I laugh at the image of her bouncing off the walls in happiness.

“I think the weirdest thing for me is that my baby has an American accent,” Harry comments.

“I never thought about that!” I laugh. “At least she won’t be saying things like crisps and the loo!”

“Oi that’s offensive,” Harry jokes. “My english is just as good as yours mate!”

“Now you sound Australian!” I tease.

Harry laughs and bumps his shoulder into mine.

“Australia has kangaroos,” Charlotte comments randomly.

“We’ve got a clever one,” Harry winks at me. “They’ve got massive spiders too.” Harry says to our daughter but little does he know she actively picked up spiders.

Charlie starts jumping like a kangaroo and soon Harry picks her up and sits her on his shoulder where she shouts to anybody who listens that she was on top of the world.

“I always tell people she’s got that energy from her dad,” I tell Harry quietly. There a shine to his eyes as he looks to Charlie and she looks down at him and shouts it louder.

“My mum and dad were thinking of coming around this weekend to see her,” Hadry suddenly says.

“That would be nice for her. To see her family,” I say.

“I mean you’d be there too?” Harry says.

“Oh, right.” My mouth dries at the thought of having to see his family. They were a great bunch but the way Harry and I ended things so abruptly was an uncomfortable reminder. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Charlie can have some sort of a normal family dinner,” Harry jokes.

“Both parents and grandparents? That would make her trip actually.” I say with a little bit of sadness. Charlotte wouldn’t grow up with both parents like Harry and I had the privlege of and that hurt me thinking about it.

“I wish she could have that all the time,” Harry sighs. He glances over at me as he says it and there’s something unspoken. But Charlie grabs a fistful of his hair and he has to get her down in her drunken power.

The restaurant is cozy and Charlie talks a mile a minute with the attention of both her parents. Every so often when she says something ridiculous or something related to an old inside joke from years past, Harry will glance over at me with a smile. It’s a secret language between us, and I swear I even feel his hand brush my own but I chalk it up to accidents. Harry had a girlfriend, he had no business doing that with me.

It gets more confusing later that night. Harry had plans to go out at 8 and Charlie falls asleep by half past 7. Being in LA time, I stay snuggled in the couch, watching a random movie Harry recommended. My eyes drift shut halfway but I’m awoken by a bang. My eyes squint in the dark as my hand feels for my phone. 1:47AM the bright display reads.

“Sorry,” comes a voice. The lights flick on and Harry stands dishevelled in the clothes he went out in. “I was trying to keep quiet I di'know you were sleeping!”

He was drunk-whispering which meant his voice was only slightly lower than normal. He stumbles towards me and falls onto the sofa, yanking his shoes off with a great deal of effort.

“Were you sleeping?” He asks me up close.

“I guess so,” I respond. “Did you have a good time?”

A part of me feels awash with sadness, the dull and familiar ache settling into my chest. Another part of me is angry at myself for still being in love with a man who could not love me the same way.

“It would have been nice if you came,” Harry reaches out and twists a strand of my hair. “Are you naturally a brunette?”

“I am,” I say gently. “You should drink water before bed.”

“No-no don’t start taking care of me!” Harry puts a pillow on his lap. “I’m supposed to be taking care of my girls. But I’m doing a shite job I guess.”

He stifles his laugh. I try to stifle the pang in my chest when he says 'my girls’ because it meant nothing more than just words. I couldn’t afford to read into these things. But when Harry switches the pillow to my lap and lays his head down, all self-control gets chucked out he door.

“It’s been so long since we talked,” Harry tries to whisper again. He reaches out to touch my hair again, his fingers lingering on my face before lowering to his side again.

“You came to LA a lot,” in my statement is also an accusation. He never came in to my apartment or asked me to go out.

“You never invited me in,” Harry says quietly.

“Surely I did?” I tell him.

“No,” his reply is almost a sigh. I realise maybe I didn’t make it so explicit.

“My mistake,” I admit. “But you know you were always welcomes.” I trace the bridge of his nose.

“I know,” Harry says with a boyish smile. “I was slightly nervous when we were on your terf. I didn’t ask either-you’re right.”

Involuntarily I brush my fingers through Harry's hair. Instantly, his body relaxes with a sigh as he closes his eyes. So I remove my hand immediately and nudge him.

“I should go to bed,” I wait for him to clumsily get up. We walk to the stairs together where Harry wishes me goodnight. He leans foward and misses my forehead by an inch, kissing my eyebrow instead.

“Night,” I back away into the spare where Charlotte sleeps, rubbing my eyebrow. In bed, I try to sort through my feelings. My eyes land on the sleeping body next to me and I pull her into me. She was all I needed, I try to remind myself. I was only here for her. Harry and I were never getting together again.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #writingsfromhome #idk lol

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Text

a friendly face

a lil one inspired from seeing the recent interviews abt cherry - yes im a couple days late but am very slow. This is basically stolen and adapted from another of my stories so I don't think there's any bits left over by my dyslexic proof reading isnt that great so apologies!!! very speech heavy so sorry am trying to balance my writing more

Summary: Tom is having a hard time filming Cherry and dealing with the emotional baggage of it, so Harry recruits someone to make everything that little bit better.

tomhollandxreader

fluff and a little angst I guess?

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Harry, Tom and their driver Sian where all sitting in the car having left the set 20 minutes ago, heading back to their accommodation. Or more precisely, Harry and Sian sat in the two front seats- Harry only in the front as to allow Tom to lie down across the three back seats. He was asleep, or at least looked asleep, but Harry knowing his brother so well knew he was just wishing he was. The day had been torturous for Tom, they’d been filming a hospital sequence in which his character was heart broken. The sequence had involved him being thrown onto the floor multiple times, by a heavy handed stunt double who was not nearly as precise as those he’d worked with at ‘marvel’. Furthermore, there was also multiple scenes of him having to properly cry on camera, which although it sounds tame, is one of the hardest things you can ever ask an actor to do. At least, someone who commits half as much as Tom. For him to show that emotion, he had to go back to a place in his life where he didn’t really ever want to venture again. But even then, this character was such a fuck up, he had to do deeper. He felt completely drained, emotionless and cold. But he couldn’t sleep, not for the guilt he felt for being short with everyone on set- he had never been like that before, he just felt like no one was respecting or understanding what he was going through. So instead he just lay on his side, facing the backs of the leather seats, arms folded in stubbornness- even if he had no idea why.

“Tom?…Tom, I know you’re awake… Look, we need to make a quick stop. You gotta come out.” Harry was actually slightly nervous his brother would just point blank refuse, even if he needed this so bad.

“I just need to get back to the apartment. Please Harry. Can’t we do it tommorrow?” The desperation dripping off Tom’s voice actually pained Harry to listen to. He knew Tom was having a crisis about how he treated everyone today, so chose to ignore his please in favour of some assurance.

“You know everyone understands… They just kept asking me if you were alright?” Harry could see the guilt radiating off Tom. It hurt him to see his big brother like this.

“Please… I just need to get back” His small voice barely made it to the front of the car, but Harry heard it all.

“It will take 2 minutes tops, I had a delivery but I need a hand carrying it, come on” Harry spoke as Sian turned on the indicator to pulled up next to the sidewalkpavement; the car slowing to a gentle halt. Tom didn’t reply, instead huffing as he used the head rest of the middle seat to pull himself up. Already out the car, Harry opened the door for him waiting patiently, because Harry knew he would be a hundred times better off in just a few moments.

“What the hell have you even ordered that’s so big?” Tom sighed while ducking through the door into the cold Cleveland air, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as Harry motioned for him to follow his feet.

“Oh um don’t know, a good friend sent it actually” Harry tried to hide the grin that was spread over his face from showing in his voice, as he saw a very familiar head of hair running toward them.

“What friend?” Tom looked up sassily toward Harry, shortly questioning who would send Harry a parcel from England that was too big to be delivered or carried by himself. Only then, nearly 5 metres away from Sian in the car, did Tom look up to see where they were. It wasn’t the nearest post office or delivery warehouse - they were at the airport. “Harry what’s going on?” Tom questioned with a low and warning voice, skipping a step or two in order to catch up with his younger brother.

“We’re collecting her” Harry smiled as he nodded forward. Following his gaze with eyes wide open, Tom turned forward just in time to see Y/h/c flying over his face as he was engulfed by someones arms. Immediately sensing exactly who this was, Tom did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push his head into your neck. Smelling the familiar perfume, Tom couldn’t help but scoff, allowing a the jerky breath to leave his lungs as you arched away from the hug, cupping Tom’s face with both her hands.

“I’ve been reliably informed you could use a friendly face” you smiled, noticing his raw emotions threatening to overtake him, so swiftly pressing just pressing your lips onto his. Seemingly frightened to move, Tom barely reacted to the kiss, so you pushed and deepened into it a little more- till you felt him relaxing against you. With that, you arched away again and smiled massaging his stubbly hair behind his left ear.

“How are you here?” He croaked staring deeply at her, switching between her left and right eye as if that somehow would confirm that this was real, not some cruel dream he was having.

“Someone somewhere knew you were in need and bought me a plane ticket over… I’m coming home with you on monday” You grinned while watching Tom’s eyes light up, he leaned in again to your lips instead of replying.

“Er-cuh-huh” Harry loudly cleared his throat, causing the two to pull away from each other. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sian isn’t really allowed to stop there long sooo” They both nodded, before Tom lunged at his brother, holding him close and whispering thanks too. It was clear this was at least partly Harry’s doing, and he could never thank his brother enough.

“Umm.. as much as I’m enjoying this brotherly love we really do have to get back in the car” Harry awkwardly spoke as he almost pushed Tom off him.

“Awww my favourite little brother being all mature” You giggled, taking your turn to hug Harry, admittedly a little shorter than Tom’s, but still with lots of gratitude.

“Please get stop loving me and get back into the car!” Harry yelled as he stormed off to Sian, leaving both you and Tom in fits of laughter. Grasping each others hand simultaneously the laughter continued as you followed Harry down the street to the car.

Seeing you standing there; feeling your arms wrapped round his neck ; hearing your oh so sweet voice had Tom feeling…. Feeling lighter. It was as though your mere presence gave him the strength to carry all the things that were previously weighing him down like a truck. What was extraordinary though, was how it wasn’t just psychological. He literally felt his joints feel looser, he felt his body flood with warmth and he felt his heart calming down. When you’d first been getting close to each you’d had rather the opposite effect. Which was surprising because that was at the point Tom had never felt more confident - he had just returned form a avengers press tour, where naturally everyone had just loved him and played up to his every whim. He had legions of girls, some of them drop dead gorgeous where falling at his feet. And yet, when he met you it was as though he was transported back into his incredibly awkward teenage years. It was infuriating, he knew he could act cool and unbothered and smooth however as soon as you stood informant of his it was like his mind melted, filling it with utter gibberish and garble. In fact, he was plainly floored by you - how kind and pure hearted you were, how respectful and how you found hhis jilted flirting adorable and not to forget how drop dead gorgeous you are.

It had taken a while and a hell of a lot of opening up, but over time he found the opposite happening. Your presence became something else entirely, not one that would put him on his toes and have his heart racing - more of a comfort. He slept better when you were beside him, his nerves never got the better of him if you were there to cheer him on. He could relax completely without any fear of judgement, any worry at all with you. What you had done is change the definition of something so fudemental and a given in life. You’d changed home from a place to something much more intangible. A person; a feeling; a connection. You were his home.

“Sian are we close?” You asked, turning your attention away from the two brothers annecdotes from filming, realising Sian must’ve been driving for about 30 minutes.

“Yep just the next right I think” Sian replied gently while turning the wheel as the indicator clicked.

“Where are we going?” Tom asked, looking first at you then pleadingly at Harry- knowing he had more of a chance with his brother.

“Well” You started and he whipped his head back round “I know it’s late and you’ve been working all day, but you have alater 10 o’clock call time tomorrow instead of 6, so this is the best night to do something. We found a driving range-with heaters” which was a very important factor since Cleveland was bloody freezing “- that we thought you’d like to play a game or two?” The massive smile in response meant you’d hit the nail on the head.

“And soz but I’m crashing the game otherwise- and no offence, but you would win waayyyy toooo easy Tom” Harry butted in and sniggered as he interrupted the lovey-dovey stares. You gasped at that in mock offence, holding your hand over your chest.

“Oi you, Paddy has been teaching on the Holland boys days out you both missed- I’ll have you know I now am aware that you have to get the ball into the hole, not a goal as previously thought.”

The boys both groaned in unison and Y/n wiggled her eyebrow grinning, elbowing Tom slightly in the side. “Things might have changed since you left you know?”

Yet another thing Tom loved so completely about you, was how effortlessly you had fitted into his family. Honestly, none of the Hollands could imagine life without you anymore - especially Nikki, who had quite literally attempted adopting you so she officially wasnt the only female in the immediate family. Sam used you as an expert taster for all his marvellous culinary creations (even if your judgement was always the same, it was very good); Dom often ended up picking your brains about your work, he found you ‘actual proper’ job as a doctor simply amazing , where all his family had never been especially acadmeically gifted; and Paddy just plain saw you as his older sister. So it was hardly surprising at all that when two of their actual kids flew across the world , you’d been the obvious placeholder. Yes, golf was most definitely your forte - but you were enthusiastic, with a positive (if flightily misguided) give it a go attitude.

The try-try-and-try-again attitude that never really worked … until Paddy taught you how to hit a clean drive.

“I am not joking, I am asking the lady at the desk there’s no way!”

“Tom you are the worst looser I have ever met! I didn’t cheat, I’ve just taken up a new hobby”

“There is no way Tom… no way she can get that good” Harry huffed as he ran straight past you to catch up with Tom, making sure that you did see the harsh glare he shot him. The outrage that Y/n had beaten them both at the driving range was way worse than anything you could’ve predicted- now you sort of were wishing you’d let them win. Oh wait…. Of course you weren’t - this was priceless. Especially their faces when you’d launched your first ball super accurately inn the centre of the second furthest away target. They had reacted as if you had just stripped butt naked, you thought; standing their jaws hanging with a look of almost fear in their eyes.

“You could see the balls land with your own eyes! Practice makes perfect!”

“Thats not fair though! It took you like 8 weeks to be like that?”

“I mean you were obviously just taught by the wrong Holland, Paddy’s a pretty good teacher!” You smiled as your trio turned the corner and walked through reception, seeing Harry desperate to ask the receptionist but Tom just looking over his shoulder to give a hurt look to at you.

“I’m going to ban you from being closer to my brothers than me”

“I can’t help if he’s cuter then you alright?” You smirked and raised an eyebrow, as Tom stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.

“That’s it… your gonna get it” he spoke in a low voice, with a mischievous look in his eye, abruptly he launched himself at you - barely having time to swerve away from him and start a sprint towards the exit, giggling as you took a glance back to see Tom chasing you out, Harry quickly in tow too.

“Your not allowed to beat me at golf!” In a jokey voice, you heard Tom yell, just as you reached the sleek black 4x4 and hurdling yourself into it.

“I’m in the car it’s a no fight zone!” You cowered in the corner,back pressed up against the opposite door and arms crossed to make an ‘x’ sign in front of her body.

“That is not how it works” Tom and Harry grinned from the open door. As fast as lightning they both vaulted in and started tickling you, making you screech curses at the two of them.

“Alright alright kids, no fighting while I’m driving thats an order.” Sian calmly spoke, trying to hide the laughter from her voice, as the two men retreated and helped to pull you up from the position half on the floor that your squirming had gotten you to.

“Get off my leg Tom… arghhh… thanks Sian, I’m sorry they’re so moody, I just whipped their asses at golf”

“You’re here to make me feel better right? Not doing a good job so far” Tom’s snide remark meant you scrunched up your nose while plugging her seatbelt in, making sure to jab Tom’s side hard as you did so.

“How did I end up sandwiched in between you two twats then?” You grinned from the middle seat as Harry just rolled his eyes looking out the window, and Tom gave you a loving smile- not able to hide his relief of your presence.

“Think it’s about a 40 minute drive you gotta enjoy” Sian smiled looking at you via the rear view mirror, to which Tom couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that escaped.

After all he had done much more than the typical 9-5 hours work, and the golfing was an unexpected addition to the already long day. His excitement and just pure joy at having you here had made him forget about It all for a couple of hours - but now his exhaustion was catching up with him with a vengeance. Instinctively you wrapped you arm round Tom and in doing so pulled him into your side.

“Get some rest huh?” You whispered into his forehead, and all Tom could do was reply with a weary nod, letting his eyes slip close to the constant beat of Ally’s heart. You immediately sensed Tom was properly out of it, and contented yourself looking out his window for a few minutes, before you felt something heavy briefly whack your other shoulder. Jumping a little at the contact, you looked round to see Harry’s head bobbing side to side in a light slumber. In the midst of worry for Tom, you hadn’t realised the kid had been doing the same long hours as him. Plus dealing with Tom and being Tom’s support, which surely took it out of him. Harry had always been ‘the most important brother’ in your eyes. Just because Tom trusts him so implicitly and completely, they had an understanding only real brothers could get to but also extended far beyond blood. When you’d first been introduced Harry had been colder to you. It wasn’t personal though, he just wanted to be sure on you and your intentions with Tom because as he well knew often when people saw Tom they didn’t just see an opportunity for love. It was an opportunity for a lifestyle, for fame, for relevance. Harry took a while before he trusted you but now you were miles and miles beyond that point. So now, being at a stage with Harry where he was phoning you to come and fly out to save Tom (and him too). It was not to be taken lightly. Therefore, you gently pressed your hand to Harrys face and pushed him to lean against her other shoulder too- hoping to cure the dark circles under his eyes a little bit too.

You were quite content for the rest of the journey, feeling warmth radiate through your body as the two men breathed deeply and calmly either side of you. You sort of didn’t want the car journeyer to end - but sure enough it wasn’t long till Sian was pulling into the hotel entrance.

“Get you a girl that can do both, beat yo ass at golf and look after your family” Sian whispered as she handed the phone back to you, after having taken some of your favourite ever photos, the 2 boys asleep on your shoulders while you pulled a variety of different faces. Smiling back at Sian, you then sighed-knowing she had to wake the two up, given their exhaustion you didn’t really want to either.

“Boys…boys… hey let’s get you both into bed yeh?” You spoke softly, gently raising your shoulders in order to disturb them both. Harry’s head immediately shot up, his eyes puffy and half open, but a sheepish look on his face as he realised how he was sleeping. Just responding with a smile that said it was all okay, before you turned her attention to Tom- forever stubborn to wake up, at least nothing had changed there.

“Come on Tom, can’t have you sleeping in the car all night” You pushed again, this time lifting Tom’s head, earning a very deep groan as his eyes slid open and he pushed against the movement. It was at this point Harry slammed the car door shut, making Tom jump out of his skin, you loosing the hope of any serene wakeup call. Rubbing Toms arm, relaxing the tension now present in his body you encouraged him once again. “Come on lets get inside mister”

His hotel room was exactly what you’d expect for an a-lister and lead actor in a million pound film. Large, modern, squeaky clean and posh. It was almost too big to be filled by one person though, Tom had always found it a bit cold and just not cosy - why he opted to spend the majority of his down time either fast alseep or in somebody else’s company. Both of those also stopped him getting too much in his head - or more accurately in his characters head. Cherry was a weird character and from interviewing all the veterans and lengthy discussion of his past, Tom almost felt as if he had in some small way experienced what Cherry had. Felt what Cherry did. Thought like Cherry did.

And that was a sure fire way to fuck yourself up.

Now, with you here in his room haphazardly digging through your case, if felt warmer. The cold but brilliant white lights seemed to have softened to a gently warm glow that bounced off your skin and made your figure look almost angelic to Tom. You were his home.

“What are you waiting for?” You mused while turning away from your (now) inside out suitcase, proudly carrying her pyjamas which you had found hidden at the bottom the whole time- not the most practical packing in the world. All the while Tom sat on his bed, back leaning against the headboard and arm bent behind his head too.

“Just thinking that I need to go through all the scenes for tomorrow” A monotonous tone laced his voice, for he knew he couldn’t spend the night the way he really wanted to, safely wrapped up with you.

“Oh… well let’s go through it together then hey? We will be done in no time; but if you want we can go over them again tomorrow morning.” It was a practical suggestion, a helpful action you could implement - even if you had a feeling Tom wouldn’t just agree. Since his lines clearly weren’t the only thing on his mind this evening.

“Yeh but everyone on set is already sick of me after today… I can’t be being shit as well as horrid” his voice was small as the memory of how he snapped at some of the extras had him cringing inwardly at himself. He shouldn’t have been that rude, shouldn’t have blurted it out, should of offered a solution rather than just critiquing.

“Hey would you kindly shut it? No one is sick of you, everyone is just ready for christmas and missing their families. Now get changed” Your soft tone turning into an imperative order, as you threw his pyjama bottoms at the him, smashing into his face before falling into his lap.

“Oi” he shouted, but followed instructions and stood up reaching round to pull his hoodie off. Stood shirtless, his side was exposed to the now changed you, the sight making you gasp and clamber over the bed to gently touch Tom’s back. You followed the outline of an impressive patch of bruising, stretching from the bottom edge of his shoulder blade all the way to his hip.

“Tom, what the hell happened?” Whispering in fear, Tom turned round to face you, seeing your eyes watering up as you kept glancing at his back. He was littered in a variety of purple, yellow and slightly green marks on the whole of his left flank. It looked like a minor crush injury, not something a pampered actor gets after a day of filming infront of tens of people including an onset medic and health and safety risk assessor.

“What?” Tom asked before turning to the mirror and looking back over his shoulder to see the bruises for himself. He hadn’t expected the ache to look that bad. “oh - I - er… Today the scene, I get smashed to the floor by someone and I kept doing it wrong so we had to do it lots I guess.” He looked away and down at your feet, not being able to meet his girlfriends eyes suddenly. You just nodded, trying to blink back the tears- he had truly been broken by this role both physically and now mentally- he hadn’t even put a stop to the constant and clearly severe pain.

“Put your stuff on” your voice was muted, as you waited for Tom to get prepared. He turned around again and then replaced his trousers and quickly pulled a top on to hide the marks, suddenly embarrassed. In the silence the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor, then of him sitting on the bed again- throwing his legs over so now he mirrored your position - the sounds were pretty defeaning.

“I love you so much….” Barely whispering, you suddenly ripped the duvet out from under you both holding it over you as you swung a leg over Tom so you straddled him, slightly leaning over him and letting the blanket rest on top of your back.In your position you looked down in an almost scary way to his warm brown eyes. Tom swore you were literally reading his thoughts, your intense gaze absolutely crumbling any walls he thought he’d be able to hold up. Pressing a gentle peck to his lips you then whispered onto his lips, letting him feel your words as well as hear them. “ …So that’s why we are going to sleep right now and you can worry about all of that tomorrow”

“Y/n I-“

“Your safe with me.” You were not standing for his nexuses and arguments, as you slid down his body - ending with your head resting on his chest, you legs tangled with his. Once you’re properly rested you’ll learn them ten times faster than what you can now… Before you get ill I am telling you to take a break. I’m not going to let you not. So relax and-….Tom?” Ending with a whisper, you delicately lifted your head off his slowly rising chest to see your broken boyfriend already asleep; lips parted as soft snores crept through the silence. In reality as soon as you’d said that he was safe the exhaustion had completely over taken him. Desperately needing to recharge his batteries, no matter how much he had wanted to stay up and work late it could never really happen - at this point physically impossible.

“Sleep well Tom” she smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek with a sad smile.

///////////////////////////////////////////

The next day rolled around all too quickly, but the morning was much better than any of the past couple of months because you were together. Tom, having had a solid 7 hours of sleep compared to his normal 5, was for once ready for the day. He’d gone through the script with a certain someones help in record time, and now the three were just pulling up at the set.

“You’ve been awful quiet this car ride…” you grinned as she clasped Tom’s hand across the empty seat, making Harry turn around and give you a warning glance. Oops. In a moment where Tom went to the loo at breakfast, Harry had fully disclosed everything that had happened on set yesterday- especially the burst of anger. So naturally, Tom was feeling nervous and scared to face everyone.

“It will be fine I promise… and if not tell them I’m your personal body guard- no one will be rude to you if me and Harry are ready to attack” Tom let out a breathy nervous laugh, only then meeting your eyes.

“ A fly wouldn’t be threatened by you two. Harry would just take a photo while you’d check their pulse or something”

“Errrm” Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he contorted round from the front seat so Tom could see his disapproving look, meanwhile Tom was dodging your affectionate fake-slaps.

“Children we’re here” Sian sighed as she brought the car to a steady halt “and if you could get through the day without killing each other I’d appreciate it, otherwise I’m out of the job”

“Not promising anything when I’ve got these pair to deal with” Tom grinned as he opened the car door, before anyone else could retaliate.You laughed before quickly following suit, joining Tom at the front of the car and interlocking your fingers with Tom’s. Hesitating for a moment Harry took a second before unplugging and leaning for the door handle.

“You see what I mean?” Turning his head to look at Sian “It’s sickening how happy they are.”

“Yeh but your glad about it don’t lie” she grinned, before practically shooing the poor boy out her car.

“But dont tell them!” Shouting in reply, as the car was already pulling out.

Tom’s body seemed to tense more the closer you walked to the crew tent, you could feel the way he squeezed his shoulders back and his jaw tensed and untensed. There was little you could do apart from squeezing his hand that little bit tighter - further reiterating the fact you would always always be in his corner. Perhaps the most telling about Tom’s own character was how truly guilty he felt for the way he was with the crew. Normally, he was one of the most down to earth actors around - no trace of an ego or superiority complex. It didn’t matter if you were a cleaner or head of a multimillion dollar studio, Tom would pay both the same amount of respect. He always out that completely down to his upbringing and mum and dad, but even that was being humble. He was just a good person to the core, no one saw that more than you either. It’s part of love, you see the good and the bad parts of a person and promise to unashamedly love them all.

Just before you both had made it into the main tent, Tom was pulled away. “Oh Tom we wanted to talk to you about yesterday!” The familiar voice of Joe Russo called, as he and Anthony ran up to Tom from his left, giving a little nod of greeting to the actor, before falling in step with him.

“Morning, I-uh I wanted to apologise actually-“Tom was cut off while you hung back off to his right, not wanting to intrude on this conversation.

“No we should. The team were all being slow yesterday, and they were making some hard scenes harder on you. We really appreciate what you are putting yourself through for the sake of the film.”

“But still I acted like a brat and I’m sorry”

“Tom” Anthony spoke up for the first time. He was a man of limited words- but whenever he spoke everyone listened. “ You are one of the best, most-dedicated actors we’ve ever worked with. We’re all overtired, run down and ready for the holidays. You’re missing your family too. It’s already forgotten… So let’s just get on with the movie?” Tom smiled, pressing his lips together to stop their kindness overtaking his emotions. Tom always felt safe with the Russo’s. They’d dealt with him when he really just was a kid actor - overwhelmed and without a clue what was happening. They’d dealt with hiM adjusting to fame and the much bigger part Marvel seemed to want him to play in the future. They trusted him with this, most incredibly complex and also personal film for them. So when they spoke and they said it didn’t matter, Tom was much more likely to agree. Then proceeded the bro-hugs, as the men all showed they were good with each other.

“Well lets make a motherfucking movie!” Tom exclaimed once they broke the hug and the brothers laughed at him. “Oh where-d….” He muttered as he looked round before meeting your eyes, still standing rather awkwardly a couple of meters behind them. “ Joe, Anthony you remember Y/n?” Nodding and smiling the brothers beckoned you over; both greeting you with a warm handshake.

“Good to see you again!” You grinned and the directors responded nodding.

“We didn’t know you were coming! I would’ve made a list of all my doctor question for you.” Joe winked, knowing your pet-peeve was people asking you all their gory body questions as soon as they found out she was a doctor. You didn’t need to know about you dentists acid reflux issue, you didn’t need to know about your granny’s friend’s constipation, and you really really didn’t need to know about an old friends erectile dysfunction.

“Ha ha ha “ You rolled your eyes sarcastically “ and no it was a bit of a spontaneous trip, I just landed last night.” Throughout the whole of the exchange Anthony had taken an aloof stance, just observing you and Tom. Observing the bright smile Tom gave you, even when you were simply making small talk. The way he looked so much healthier, well rested and just happy, in the space of a single evening.

“I’m glad you’re here” Anthony basically interrupted the conversation, addressing you then immediately turning on his heel towards the set.

“Uhh right- get to make up we’ll call a cast meeting in a bit” Joe stammered, giving his brother a funny look before addressing Tom “ and we’ll have to have a proper catch up later.” You nodded in response, as Joe turned and did a half jog to catch up with his brother.

“That was weird!?” You frowned as you looked up at Tom. He explained the encounter in rather simplistic terms.

“That was Anthony.”

The morning was spent with Tom doing what he does best in front of the camera. They were shooting a larger scene for the army section of the movie, with at least 100 actual soldiers as extras, all geared up in full camo outfits. It was impressive, but also gave you a chance to meet Ciara - you’d been dying to meet her since Tom told you what a laugh she was. Fair to say you weren’t disappointed at all, you guys hitting it off instantly and you going as far as giving Ciara some embarrassing Tom stories that she could wind him up with in the future. Of course though, the main attraction was seeing Tom act first hand. Every time it astounded you, even though you knew that face so completely, in all his movies he fully had you believing he was someone else. It was mesmerising and you couldn’t be any prouder.

“You’re amazing! I seriously forgot how good you are!” You ran over as Joe Russo called cut to the end of the morning shoot.

“Well er thanks I guess” Tom furrowed his eyebrows as you wrapped him in a hug. He’d just canned a pretty hard scene and everyone was more than ready for a lunch break. You’s been watching from behind the cameras with Harry the whole time, after Tom gave you permission to sit in his special set chair.

“Seriously I’m very…. “ Her speech broken with an impressive yawn “….very proud of you.” In thanks Tom gave you a kiss first to your nose and then lips.

“I take it someones not adapting to jet lag?” He chuckled as he pulled away and cupped your face in his hands.

“Which I’m totally ashamed about considering I work night shifts… my body clocks supposed to be better than this” Angrily, you vented, frustrated at your own body when all you wanted to do was stays within reaching distance of Tom. Even if Tom had had the best sleep of this whole shoot last night, you’d been to over excited and enthralled just absorbing every little thing about him that you’d missed so much that you’d been wide awake the majority of the night. If you blamed you fatigue on jet lag alone, it would be an impressive lie.

“Go take a nap in my trailer… Harry can you take her?”

“Yes master” Harry bowed down and wobbled his head sarcastically, making you giggle.

“At least this way you get a break from him” You grinned to Tom’s brother, which Harry could only agree with. Giving Tom a parting kiss , you followed Harry away from set. It was at this point that Anthony excused himself from the monitors reviewing the footage, and approached Tom.

“Kid… that was great that scene.”

“Thanks mate, means a lot” Getting his directors approval forever reassured Tom, letting him relax his shoulders a bit as he nodded gratefully to Anthony.

“Well it’s just truth… so your girlfriend, Y/n right?”

“Yeh that’s her” Tom nodded, suddenly a little concerned as to where Anthony was going with this. You had met the Russo’s a number of times, and it never before seemed as though Anthony had an issue with you- at least to Tom’s knowledge.

“Right well um… you know how I don’t really get involved in all this stuff…” Tom nodded, folding his arms apprehensively. “But I just thought I should say that she’s really good for you.” Tom silently breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Anthony to get to the point. “Joe told me you had a rough patch at the beginning of the year so… I don’t know our industry is hard. And harder for you and her in the spotlight… Just seeing you with her today…Don’t be afraid to take the next steps with her…Don’t let her get away.” Tom was stunned to say the least. Anthony is the last person he had ever expected to get relationship advice from.

“I um yeh… I don’t know I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean we’ve been together for 2 and a bit years, well including the break… she means the world to me-“

“Well don’t waste it”

And that was the end of the conversation. Anthony turned to his trailer to get lunch and Tom just stood, replaying the conversation in his head. Weird to say the least.

But it did get the cogs turning. It did get Tom really seriously considering his future. Or rather considering your future together.

And that was for certain. It was you and him, always.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tomholland #Harry Holland #tom holland x y/n

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phantasticworks · 3 years

Text

Take a Picture (It'll Last Longer)

so. here i am again (soz) but I really just couldn't wait a second longer to post this fic. So this is just part one, and there will be a part two posted soon(ish). and yes i did in fact decide the phandom needed yet another photography fic (although, tbf i started writing this back when those were still cool and popular)

read on ao3

Words: 21.6k

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at 2 a.m. in a coffee shop. Phil is a photographer looking for a model, and Dan can't say no to pretty boys.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, light angst

It was a weird situation.

Scratch that. It was an insane, very unlikely, but somehow still copacetic situation. See, Dan didn’t have anything better to do with his time (aside from the time he spent facedown on the floor dreading his very existence, he was pretty much a free agent) and Phil had been rather... convincing.

Not in that way.

Well.

No, no, not in that way. Not really, at least.

They met in the way most caffeine-driven, insomniac uni students do when they’re struggling through assignments at two am and would absolutely kill for some caffeine; they met at a coffee shop. Dan’s favorite coffee shop, actually, although by the end of the evening that fact would be used against him in order for one particularly passionate and newly inspired photographer to get his way.

“A caramel macchiato, please. And, uh... pistachio muffin?” Dan pulls his wallet out of his pocket, digging inside until he finds a tenner. The change she hands him back is deposited into the tip jar, and she offers him a small smile.

“Thank you, I’ll be right back with your drink.”

Dan nods, stepping to the side and very nearly bumping into someone else. “Whoops, sorry, mate.” Unconsciously, he reaches a hand out to steady the other person. Dan’s eyes flick up and meet pale skin, blue eyes, and a very disheveled looking quiff.

“No, it’s my bad, really. I wasn’t even paying attention,” the man replies, quiet embarrassment covering his tone.

Stepping back a respectable distance, Dan tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. He’s wearing a red and black plaid shirt with the top button undone, and over that is a stonewashed denim jacket. His legs, miles of them it seems, are painted with the black skinnies that his hands are awkwardly tucked into, in sort of a weird backward claw. He’s got a bag slung over his left shoulder, a kind of boxy looking one that almost looks like a lunchbox. Dan is faintly aware of the fact that this stranger is watching Dan check him out, but if he has a problem with this, the man doesn’t say so. After an assessing gaze, Dan’s eyes flick back up to blue ones hidden behind simple black framed glasses.

“Caramel macchiato,” the chipper voice behind the counter says, interrupting whatever silent conversation Dan is having with this stranger.

“That’s me,” Dan says with a small smile, stepping to the side to grab his drink and muffin.

“Funny, that’s me as well,” the stranger jokes, stepping up to the counter, closer to Dan than is probably strictly necessary. Dan doesn’t find that he minds. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He tilts his head, squinting at the hand Dan is holding his muffin in. “What kind of muffin is that?”

“Pistachio,” Dan responds.

“Hm,” he considers. To the girl behind the till, he says, “Scratch that, same drink but I’d prefer a raspberry almond cream scone.”

The girl nods, ringing him up and telling him the total. It occurs to Dan, while they’re having this interaction, that he has no reason to stay there. He’s already gotten his food, and he doesn’t know this man. There’s really no reason to stand there and wait on him. And yet, Dan sees no reason to go rushing off back to his shitty little flat with his annoying roommates who hate him. He shifts from foot to foot, contemplating on how creepy it is for him to stand there waiting for a stranger.

Before he has the chance to properly freak out about it, the man turns his head, smiling when he sees Dan still stood there. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asks politely.

This feels like it’s a challenge in some way, but Dan can’t decide how. He’s even less sure about how he would handle it even if it was. Two seconds away from lying, he stutters out a fumbled, “I- no.”

The smile grows into a full blown grin, and Dan can’t help but focus on the little bit of pink tongue poking between his teeth. “Perfect! I could use the company.”

Dan doesn’t have time to argue against that. As soon as the man is handed his order, he thanks the cashier and turns to look at Dan, gesturing to the sofas in the corner. Nodding, Dan follows him over and takes an awkward seat on one end of the ugly, green crushed velvet sofa closest to the window. The man has already laid out his scone and drink, and he hands Dan a napkin as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks,” Dan says, holding the napkin in his hand like an idiot. When the guy smiles at him, Dan tries to copy it, but he knows it’s awkward. “I’m Dan,” he says dumbly, moving to hold his hand out for a handshake. He realizes a second too late that he still has his drink in his hand. His face floods with color, and he’s quick to set it down and try again.

Blue eyes crinkle on the edges of a smile, and the man reciprocates the handshake in a much less awkward fashion. “I’m Phil.”

Dan nods, tugging his hand away when it feels appropriate to do so. It hasn’t set in until then, but the true awkwardness of this situation, of having a two am coffee and snack with a stranger, really sets in. “So, um... caramel macchiato?” His voice is stilted, awkward, even to his own ears.

Phil quirks a brow and bites his lip as if to hide a smile. “Yeah, reckon it’s my favorite.”

“Good favorite to have,” Dan replies. He reaches for his drink and takes a large sip. It’s sweet, sweeter than he’d usually like at this time of day (or night, depending on how you looked at it) but it was still nice. His hands shake a bit as he goes to set it down, so he tucks his hands under his thighs to hide it. Glancing up at Phil, he frowns, surprised to find him already looking back.

Phil has an easy smile on his lips, and he leans back on the sofa, pulling his legs up to sit in a criss-cross fashion as he regards Dan. “I’m guessing you’re a student?” Phil asks.

Dan’s lips twist but he forces a nod. “Yeah,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably.

Despite Dan’s awkwardness, Phil appears intrigued, leaning in with a smile. “What are you studying?”

“Law.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and his nose scrunches at the thought.

Phil smiles, his lips curling as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes sparkle above the cup, as if they’re sharing some sort of secret. Dan kind of likes the way that feels. “What did you want to study?” Phil asks, as if that’s something you just ask someone you’ve only just met.

Dan can’t help but bristle. “I... what makes you think I don’t want to do law?” He crosses his arms, defiant.

The look Phil sends him implies that the question is a stupid one. “Your face kinda gave it away, mate.” He does that smile again, the one with his tongue between his teeth, and Dan nearly swoons.

“Okay, well, no, it’s not exactly my dream career.” Dan can’t believe he’s admitting this to a complete stranger. He hasn’t even admitted this to his parents yet. Not to mention the other, more personal thing he hasn’t admitted to them yet. He won’t be sharing that today, though. At least, he doesn’t plan on it.

Phil leans in again, hovering close like they’re sharing secrets. “What is your dream career?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Dan stares at him instead of responding. Something clicks in his head, and he recognizes this as some form of flirting. He can’t, or rather doesn’t want to, deal with that. So he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs. Loudly and awkwardly. “Don’t think we know each other well enough for me to share all my hopes and dreams, mate.”

There’s a flash of a grin but then Phil settles back, his mouth forming a vague smirk as he tucks into his scone. Watching him eat serves as a reminder that Dan has his own food, a reminder he’s grateful for as soon as Phil catches his gaze. Cheeks warm, Dan quickly reaches for his pistachio muffin, tearing it apart and eating it in little bits.

He hears a laugh from beside him, but at this point he pays no mind to it. His whole reason for leaving his shitty little flat at two in the morning was to get one of these delightful muffins, and despite the distraction, he was actually very hungry, and after the first bite he can’t help but snarf the rest of it up. He’s mid-chew, barely holding in a noise of pure joy at how fluffy the pastry is, when he hears a camera shutter.

Dan startles. His muffin very nearly faces an untimely death, but with the secret muffin-saving ninja powers he didn’t know he had, he manages to save it before it hits the floor. Choking down the bite in his mouth, Dan turns his head, staring past the rather impressive looking camera lens and glaring daggers into Phil’s eyes.

“Um... What the fuck?”

Phil at least has the decency to look sheepish. He lowers the camera, his gaze locked on what Dan assumes is the screen, which is probably displaying the likely incredibly unflattering photo of Dan.

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes, half-heartedly. “You just... I don’t know, sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Dan clears his throat, sitting forward to place his muffin down. He dusts the crumbs off his lap, his gaze flicking from Phil to the camera. “Well? Let me see it.”

“Oh.” Phil looks surprised. Dan hates that he thinks that’s endearing. “Well, it’s not very good, I wasn’t going for something perfect, and the lighting is off, so-“

“If I’m modeling without my knowledge or consent, I’m seeing the result,” Dan deadpans.

Phil actually looks proper embarrassed now. “I am sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Clearly. Hand it over.” He reaches for the camera, but doesn’t snatch it. He was raised better than that, obviously.

With another sheepish look, Phil gently sets the camera down in Dan’s awaiting palm. He handles the camera carefully, but with steady, sure hands. Belatedly, Dan realizes that the camera must have been in the bag he’d mistaken for a lunchbox earlier. The camera is heavier than he’d been expecting, but then again Dan’s never really had much reason to hold a camera before, especially not one of this caliber.

He has to click the center button to wake the screen back up, and when he does he squints to see the picture better. His breath catches. The picture isn’t fantastic, from a subjective point of view. Although maybe that’s just his bias, as he’s the subject of it and it’s not exactly a flattering pose. He’s got a pleased look on his face, his index finger between his lips, clearly stuffing food in his mouth. There are crinkles by his eyes and regardless of the fact that no one looks good shoving food down their throat, it’s actually... not a bad picture.

“I’m sorry, I know, it’s not like... great. The lighting isn’t perfect, and the angle is awkward, but you were just so... well, anyway. Sorry, again.” Phil’s rambling at this point, and Dan can’t be bothered to reply to any of it.

“It’s... it’s actually really good, Phil.” Dan’s eyes don’t leave the camera. Maybe that’s narcissistic, but he doesn’t actively hate the way he looks, not from Phil’s perspective. Glancing up at who is apparently a good photographer, Dan offers a cheeky grin. “You’re not half bad for a guy who takes creep shots of strangers in cafes in the middle of the night.”

Phil’s face falls, a pinkish tint crawling up his cheeks. “I-“

“I’m joking,” Dan assures him with an easy smile. He hands the camera back, a twisting feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this stranger has a piece of him he can’t get back. He doesn’t like that part of this, he realizes. Clearing his throat, he gestures at the camera. “What’re you gonna do with that photo?”

Phil gives him a small, knowing smile. This makes Dan’s gut twist in a different way. He’s not sure how to interpret this one. “I can delete it, if you’d like,” he says, shrugging. His gaze drops to the photo and his lips twist. A silent conjunction lies stagnant in the air between them.

“Okay... is that what you’re going to do with it?” Dan asks, because he can’t not ask. He hates to tell this man, who is clearly a good photographer, that he can’t keep the picture, but the part of him that cringes at the idea of someone else seeing it refuses to be silent.

“Well, I mean obviously I will if you want me to, but...” he trails off, his gaze flicking between Dan and the photo on the camera as if he can’t reconcile the two versions of him. Or maybe it’s something else. “I’m actually looking for a model.”

Dan can’t help it. He laughs.

It’s not even anywhere in the realm of an attractive laugh, as he fully snorts, and that sound in itself just makes him laugh harder. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to keep looking. I’m not a model.” He shakes his head at the very notion.

Phil quirks an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his camera, as if that proves literally anything.

“Oh come on!” Dan groans. “That? Seriously? I look like, like a troll! Or a- a hobbit!”

The exasperated look on Phil’s face says that he isn’t buying it. “No, you really don’t. But even if you did, given the right lighting, angle, and some time, I think you’d be surprised at how not-hobbit-like I could make you appear.”

There’s something hopeful behind Phil’s eyes, and Dan watches as his fingers skate almost nervously over the buttons on the camera. Dan’s almost inclined to agree just on the off-chance he might get a shot at seeing what else those fingers do. He immediately berates himself for the idea; he barely knows this guy, but from all indications he’s lovely and deserves more than Dan’s gutter thoughts.

“I don’t know the first thing about modeling,” he says instead of going anywhere near the mental path his brain is suggesting.

“You don’t have to. As long as you’re good at keeping still and following directions, all you need is a good photographer,” Phil insists. He’s got a cheeky look on his face. “And being pretty doesn’t hurt.”

Dan stares that flirty remark in the face and says, “Let me repeat myself, keep looking.”

Phil’s face crumples into something unsatisfied before eventually shifting into something resigned. “If you actually don’t know that you’re attractive, then you’re very daft.”

The remark, as blunt as it was, sends a rush of something warm through his chest and up his neck. Ducking his head to hide his reaction, he mumbles, “I barely know you.”

“I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Dan’s head immediately snaps back up and he squints at the man beside him. “Funny, that sounds exactly like what a murderer would say.”

Phil grins. “Would a murderer offer to do a background check to prove it?” Those blue eyes are sparkling with mischief, and Dan is about two seconds away from agreeing to something both dangerous and stupid.

Reaching for his forgotten drink to distract himself, Dan hums. “Dunno. Don’t reckon I’ve ever met a murderer.”

“Yet,” Phil says, his voice filled with unabashed glee.

Dan levels him with a thoughtful stare. “Yet,” he agrees, slowly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their pastries and drinks as Phil’s offer hangs above their heads. On the one hand, Dan really has nothing to lose. He’s bored of his life and his so-called friends who don’t seem to like spending time with him anyways, so it’s not like he’s losing out on precious social time if he agrees to it. On the other, he seriously doesn’t actually know Phil. He knows he’s a photographer who likes caramel macchiatos and that’s basically it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know the bloke’s last name.

“What’s your name?” Dan asks, breaking the silence so suddenly that Phil actually startles in his seat. “Sorry,” Dan offers a sheepish grin. “I’m just curious. What’s your full name?”

Phil smiles. “Philip Michael Lester.”

Dan nods. He sips. Then, “I reckon that sounds like the name of someone who isn’t a murderer.”

When he glances over, Phil is hiding a grin behind his hand. “You reckon so?”

“Yeah,” Dan shrugs. He thinks for a moment. “What kind of... like, modeling, do you want me to do? Like, I don’t know if I’m down to be naked for photos.”

Phil’s got an adorable flush crawling up his neck, likely at the blunt way Dan had phrased it, but he somehow still manages to meet Dan’s stare with something serious. “Just for photos?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to flush. “Shut up. Is this how you’re going to kill me? Lure me in with jokes and flirting and then cut off my willy when I’ve let my guard down?”

If Dan thought Phil’s face was red before, it’s literally nothing compared to the beautiful flush that paints his cheeks now. “No!” He hisses, looking over to the counter with panic in his eyes. Considering they’re the only customers and the cashier has retired to sitting on the counter playing with their phone, Dan thinks it probably safe to say that no one heard.

“Hey, I’m just asking! You can never be too careful. Lot of creeps out there,” Dan grins.

Phil shakes his head, hiding his horror behind his cup. “I’m starting to think you might be the murderer.”

Dan smiles, but it’s a bitter thing. “The only thing I kill is anyone’s desire to be around me for any length of time ever.”

It’s funny how quickly Phil’s expression changes. He lowers his cup, his gaze soft as it lands on Dan’s. For however long those moments are, they share some silent understanding. Even if Dan doesn’t know him, he recognizes that Phil gets it; maybe not on some deep psychological level, but Dan sees in the lack of pity or discomfort that Phil just... knows.

“If you promise not to kill me and I promise not to kill you, do you think you could maybe consider it?” Phil asks.

Dan’s grateful for the subject change, even though it forces him to focus on the topic at hand. He considers it for a moment, but really he already knew what his answer would be the moment Phil said he was attractive. If that makes him shallow, then so be it.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers and schedules that night, Dan agreed to meet Phil at his flat two weeks later for his first shoot. It made him vaguely uncomfortable to think of it like that but in the end that’s pretty much what it was, at least if Phil had anything to say about it. The man in question had yet to give Dan any explanation for why he was taking the photos to begin with, but Dan just assumed it was for a project. He did learn that Phil was finishing up his second degree, something Dan was immensely jealous of, considering he felt like dropping out half the time.

The days before they’re meant to meet seem to fly by, and when Dan shows up at the address he’d been given on Friday night, he’s practically vibrating with nerves. Despite the fact that they’d spent much of that time apart texting and getting to know one another, he still felt a little out of his depth stood at Phil’s door, especially knowing what awaited him on the other side.

Still, it’s not like he could easily get out of it now. So instead he texts Phil to let him know he’s there, waiting awkwardly on the steps in front of the building. Phil replies to let him know that he’d be down in a moment, so Dan stands, shifting from foot to foot, as he waits.

He’d been completely clueless as to how he needed to dress for this, and Phil had been no help at all. He’d instructed Dan to just wear something comfortable, that he was less concerned about costuming than he was the picture itself. Dan didn’t know much about photography, so he decided to listen. He’d chosen a pair of black jeans, not ripped for once, and a plain black jumper. His hair was a controlled mess, and after an hour of forcing straighteners over it, he managed to get it into something presentable.

The door in front of him swings open while he’s contemplating his choice of shoes, and he nearly falls over in surprise. He catches himself before he can, but the embarrassment of almost falling nearly has him turning around to leave until he catches sight of Phil’s pleased grin. “You made it!” He cheers, ushering Dan inside.

Dan quirks a brow at him. “Did you think I just texted you from my flat just to get a laugh when you realized I wasn’t here?”

Phil’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re like, maybe you never planned on showing up at all and it’s all just a big prank.”

If Phil wasn’t already leading the way upstairs, he’d see the incredulous look on Dan’s face. “That’s ridiculous. I’m right here.”

He watches Phil’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know that. Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination. Maybe you’re a figment of your own imagination. Who knows?” They stop at a door just off the staircase on the second floor, much to Dan’s relief. He wasn’t much for exercise and he wasn’t aware that today he’d be doing cardio, or he’d have worn a thinner shirt. “Maybe existence in itself is just a social construct,” Phil says conspiratorially, opening the door to his flat and sending Dan a mischievous grin.

“Stop, you’re gonna send me into an existential crisis,” Dan complains.

Phil is good-natured enough to laugh, which is refreshing compared to the usual groans and bitchiness Dan would hear from his friends for a similar comment. It’s nice.

Phil leads the way into his flat, and Dan distracts himself from his nerves by looking around, taking in all of the little knick knacks and decor. It’s not messy, per se, but it differs from Dan’s own flat in the way that it’s comfortably lived in. There’s not a whole lot of space, but somehow it doesn’t feel crowded or small. Dan wonders if that has anything to do with the bright colors, which, he notes, don’t seem to follow any sort of pattern or color scheme.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, I rarely have company.” Phil sounds apologetic as he moves further into the flat, bypassing the lounge and leading Dan into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

Dan nods, moving to settle on one of the barstools by the counter. “As long as it’s not of the alcoholic variety.”

Phil smiles as he moves around the kitchen, reaching into a cupboard for two glasses. Dan watches as the hem of his shirt rides up, showing just a little bit of skin before it settles back down. “You don’t drink?”

Shrugging, Dan leans forward on the counter, his arms folded. “Not with people I barely know,” he replies dryly.

There’s a flicker of something like hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s not there for long. “Ribena okay?”

“Sure.”

It’s a little bit awkward as Phil prepares their drinks in silence, which Dan attributes to the fact that they don’t really know each other that well. It’s hard to start a conversation with a stranger, especially when you’re in said stranger’s house. All things considered, though, Dan could be a lot more worried about that. Phil just seems to have this calming sort of energy to him, and it’s hard for Dan to reject that, even with his brain as messed up as it is.

“Here you go,” Phil says with a smile as he hands Dan a drink.

“Thanks,” Dan replies with a smile. He takes a sip, averting his eyes from Phil’s curious gaze. It’s a bit less watered down than he prefers, but he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. The sweetness is less of a whisper and more of a shout, and he smiles to himself when he thinks about Phil’s obvious sweet tooth.

“Alright?” Phil asks, sounding a little nervous.

Dan nods. “It’s good.” Clearing his throat, he gestures vaguely to Phil. “So, Mr. Photographer. What kind of photoshoot have you got in mind for me?”

At the mention of the reason for Dan’s presence, Phil grins. “Well, I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

Dan spares a confused glance at his drink but does as instructed, standing up to follow after him. Now that he’s being led into the lounge he’s got a chance to look around a little more and is surprised to see a bookshelf filled with familiar things, mostly video games and movies. There’s a couple odd knick knacks here and there that he recognizes from a game or anime. The thought that they actually have things in common startles Dan, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“So, for the portrait series I’m doing, I’m focusing more on a lifestyle, candid kind of photography. I’m still working on the basic theme but I’ve got some ideas for a couple of shots to get started.” Phil is explaining this as he’s moving around, grabbing his camera off the desk and moving to the glass door which Dan has just realized opens onto a balcony. Dan’s nodding along, pretending he gets it, while still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this man looked at him and felt he was worth capturing. “If you have any ideas or questions or anything, feel free to let me know. I’m usually pretty open-minded about things like that,” Phil says with a smile.

Dan nods again. “Alright. Well, uh... where do you want me?”

Phil grins, and Dan flushes when he realizes what it sounds like. Luckily, Phil doesn’t tease him for it. “I thought we’d start with the balcony. I’ve got some ideas that I wanna go ahead and do while the lighting is nice.”

With another nod, Dan moves towards the door. Then he comes to a halt, turning back around to face him. “Is what I’m wearing alright? I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

There’s a twitch of a smile on Phil’s lips at that. “What you’re wearing is perfect. You can take your shoes off though, if you want. Might be here a while.” There’s no hint of innuendo in his voice, but Dan can’t help but think about it anyway.

He toes his shoes off, glad for the brief distraction to calm himself down. After tucking his shoes out of the way near the door, he turns around, tugging on his sleeves as he waits for instruction. Phil isn’t looking at him right now, his focus on the balcony door. He pushes it open, steps back, and then tugs it in just a little bit. After staring at it for a moment he closes it, then nods to himself. If Dan wasn’t so confused, he’d probably laugh at him.

A few minutes of this go by and then Phil’s turning back around with a bright smile. “Alright, so for this to look candid and what not, I need you to like walk out onto the balcony as naturally as you can. We’ve got time to do it more than once, so it’s fine if the first couple of times feel awkward.”

“Okay,” Dan shrugs. He’s struggling to pretend he’s not nervous at this point but really, how can he not be? He doesn’t even know Phil but he wants this to work for him.

Dan moves towards the door, hyper aware of every movement of his feet as they drag across the floor. He doesn’t hear any other instruction, so he continues, pushing open the glass door and stepping onto the balcony. He also doesn’t hear the camera shutter, so with an embarrassed feeling in his chest, he turns to look at Phil.

Click.

“Um.” Dan blinks. “I thought...”

“Just checking that the camera is good to go,” Phil says, his lips twitching like he wants to smile. Dan can tell he’s lying, but doesn’t know how he’d feel about being called out for it.

“So... want me to go again?” Dan asks dumbly.

Phil nods, gesturing for him to come closer. “Here, just...” as soon as Dan is closer, he reaches out for him. Dan’s heart thumps out of beat, and Phil hesitates, smiling gently. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing to Dan’s shirt.

Dan can only nod, and Phil takes that as permission. He steps just a bit closer, and a wonderful scent of something fruity and sweet floods Dan’s senses. He’s trying to decide if it’s kiwi or something else when Phil’s gaze meets his, making Dan flush and drop his eyes. Phil’s camera is resting against his chest, the strap around his neck, and Dan tries to focus on that as Phil takes Dan’s sleeve and rolls it up almost to his elbow. He takes the other and copies the look, glancing over the rest of Dan before clearing his throat and stepping back.

“Am I ready for the camera?” Dan jokes, trying to ignore the racing of his heart and the way he can still smell faint traces of Phil’s cologne in the air between their bodies.

Phil’s suddenly heavy gaze drags from Dan’s hair down to his jeans, and he tilts his head, considering. “Depends. How comfortable would you be without your jeans?”

~~~

Dan cannot believe this. He simply cannot believe he agreed to this. Even an hour and a half later, it feels a bit like some weird fever dream. But no, there he is, in Phil’s flat, clad in nothing but a black jumper and black Calvins, modeling. If it could even be called that, because at this point Phil is mostly just engaging him in conversation, getting Dan distracted, and then snapping a photo. He very rarely asks for a specific pose, and Dan’s starting to wonder if he’s actually getting any good shots out of this or not.

Still, he won’t complain because so far he’s learned a lot about Phil. He’s 28, which surprised Dan at first, until he explained that he’d finished school with a degree in video post-production only to realize a couple years later that he was interested in photography. He’s not a full time student, but he’s enrolled in the photography course and loving it, apparently. Dan feels all sorts of out of place when Phil talks about school with such passion. It’s something he wishes he had, something he’d wanted for himself for years and never found.

Dan actually shares things about himself, as well. He offers up his own situation with school, admitting that he’d dropped out of uni a few years ago, only to get stuck with no job and no future until his parents made him agree to go back. He’s in his second year of law this time, which as a 24 year old, feels very embarrassing. Phil is all kind words and encouragement about this; Dan tries not to feel surprised that Phil is not only attractive and clever but also deeply empathetic.

“That’s really brave, you know,” Phil tells him. He’s sat on the only chair on the balcony, looking up at Dan with soft eyes. Dan shrugs, glancing away from him. He can’t handle the caring behind those eyes, he can’t let himself feel something more for this stranger other than vague appreciation and friendship. There’s the sound of the shutter clicking, and he levels Phil with an unimpressed stare. Phil grins and snaps another photo.

“It doesn’t feel brave,” Dan tells him, continuing their verbal conversation as he turns away, looking out on the city around them rather than stand facing Phil. He realizes belatedly that the height of the balcony and the way he’s leaning against it probably just look like he’s presenting his ass, but he’s already lost whatever self-consciousness he had about being nearly naked in front of someone he hardly knows.

“How does it feel, then?” Phil asks. Dan likes that. He likes that he doesn’t argue with Dan’s feelings, he asks him to explain them. Dan likes that a lot.

“Well, it feels like... I dunno. Like a waste of time.” He glances over when he hears the chair squeak to find Phil standing beside him. He’s got this open, welcoming expression on his face. Dan suddenly feels like he could tell him anything and Phil would just... know. “I feel like I’m wasting my time, or potential, or whatever.”

Phil nods. “I get that. I started out with English Language and Linguistics at uni. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t something I was like, super passionate about. Not enough to stick with it, and like, what the hell do you do with that kind of degree, you know?”

Dan shrugs. He doesn’t know, honestly, but it feels good to talk to someone who gets it, in some way. “Right.” It’s quiet for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts as they look out into the street below. They’re not very high up, but there’s not a whole lot of tall buildings around, so it feels like they are. Dan hears the camera shutter but this time he doesn’t look. Instead he allows himself a small smile, something warm fluttering in his chest. Another click, and then he hears Phil sigh.

“These are really good,” Phil says softly. “I mean... not like I’m bragging, just...” He meets Dan’s gaze with a sheepish smile. “You look really good.”

Dan’s not sure he can handle that. He ducks his head, avoiding even looking in Phil’s direction until he feels less embarrassed and charmed and pleased. “I’m sure they’re alright,” he says noncommittally.

Phil laughs at that. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or yourself, but either way, I’m not sure I appreciate it.”

He can’t help it, Dan snorts at hearing this. “Sorry. Self-deprecation and all.”

There’s a very serious expression on Phil’s face when he looks at Dan then. It nearly chills Dan to his bones, but he finds he can’t look away. “I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” He sounds perfectly serious.

Dan swallows. He wonders if he’s imagining the lack of space between them. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Phil studies him for a moment. He moves slowly, pulling the camera strap over his head and setting the camera carefully in the chair. Dan’s definitely not imagining it when Phil steps closer, making Dan turn as Phil crowds him back against the balcony. “All sorts of things,” Phil murmurs. Speaking any louder in the space between them would sound like yelling. “I see someone who’s sad.” Dan makes a soft noise of protest, but Phil shushes him gently. “But someone who’s doing what they can not to feel that way.”

They’re stood less than a foot apart now, and Dan studies the swirl of colors in Phil’s eyes. His breath is caught in his throat. He doesn’t know how Phil just knows these things, but somehow he’s managed to understand more about Dan than he’s understood about himself in years. More than that, Phil sees these things about Dan and doesn’t shy away from them. He looks at him like it’s okay to feel that way, like he maybe understands what it’s like. Dan loves it.

“What else?” He whispers, as if they’re sharing secrets.

Phil smiles. “I see those beautiful brown eyes.”

Dan blushes. “Shut up.”

“No,” Phil grins. He reaches forward, and Dan expects a soft touch and hopes for maybe more than that. He’s surprised when instead Phil pokes his side.

“Hey!” Dan yelps, squirming from his hand. “That’s rude.”

Phil giggles. “Sorry. I wanted to see that cute little pout.”

Dan’s face is likely blood red by now, but he tries to force his lips out of the pout he feels them in. “Alright, if you don’t stop flirting you might actually have to do something about it, you know.” He crosses his arms, quirking an eyebrow at Phil in challenge.

The challenge is apparently accepted, as Phil grins back, crossing his own arms. He’s an inch or two shorter than Dan, but with that stance, he appears taller. “Like what?”

And well, Dan wasn’t really expecting Phil to play along. He can only stare at him, blinking in confusion. “Um... well...”

It seems Phil expected this because he starts laughing as if it was a joke. Dan has no choice but to join in, pretending right along with him. “C’mon, you must be getting cold out here.” Phil turns to walk inside, gesturing for Dan to follow. Dan hadn’t really thought about it until now, but his legs are rather chilly.

After closing the door and walking into the lounge, he finds Phil stood there holding his jeans out to him. Dan tries not to let it bother him that this evening isn’t going in the direction he originally thought that it might go in. He shouldn’t be surprised about that. Phil is seemingly a very nice person, one who probably doesn’t hook up with emotionally unstable uni students he met at two am in a cafe. So really, Dan just needs to calm down with his expectations there.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking the jeans. He figures propriety is probably already out the window, so he goes ahead and pulls them on, trying not to think about the fact that Phil is watching him. “So, um...” He wants to ask if he’ll see Phil again, but he’s not sure how to.

Phil seems to understand anyway. He smiles and moves to the desk in the corner. Above it is a wall calendar, filled with lots of colorful sticky notes and scribbled handwriting. Even squinting, Dan can’t really make any of it out. Somehow, that, too, is endearing. Phil mumbles to himself as he scans the calendar, his finger moving along the dates as if he’s looking for something.

“I’m free next Saturday if you’re willing to do this again,” he says, turning around to glance at Dan.

A little startled by the suddenness of the request, it takes Dan a moment to nod. “Alright, uh, sure. What time?”

“Hm,” Phil hums to himself, considering it. He bends over to look through a notebook on the desk, and Dan is definitely not looking at his ass. Okay, maybe he takes a peek. Or two. Or maybe he just stares. “I have a list of ideas, give me a second,” he says, offering Dan a smile over his shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat and pretending he’s examining the furniture. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I really like your flat. It’s cozy,” he says. His voice sounds awkward, even to himself. He’s genuine in his compliment, though. The decor is a lot brighter than he’d go for, and there doesn’t seem to be any cohesive theme, but he appreciates the bursts of personality he sees in every item.

“Thanks,” Phil says, turning to face him with a grin. “It’s taken me a while to accumulate all this junk, but it’s mostly sentimental.”

Dan cracks a smile at that. “That’s sweet. I’m not very sentimental myself, actually.”

Phil’s smile cracks a little at that. He recovers well, and manages to laugh. “My mum says I’m a hoarder, but I actually think I got it from her.”

“Maybe don’t tell her that.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Phil grins genuinely. “So, I’ve got some… er… well, some other shots I want to get.” He bites his lips as if he’s embarrassed.

Dan can’t help it. His mind takes a sharp turn for the gutter. “What kind of shots?”

Phil raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck. Dan stares at the way the tendons in his arms flex. It’s unacceptably attractive. “Well… Please don’t think I’m creepy for this, I swear I was going to get someone else to do it, but if you’re willing… My series would look more cohesive with the same model in every shot.”

Dan rolls his eyes now. The beating around the bush thing isn’t cute anymore. “Spit it out, bub. What do you want me to do? Pose nude?”

“No!” Something panicked arises in Phil’s eyes, but it’s replaced by something like consideration, clouded with something akin to guilt. “Er… Well, not entirely.” He bites his lip at this, staring at Dan like he’s waiting for him to run.

Crossing his arms, Dan quirks a brow, waiting. “So?”

“Well, it’s like… The theme I’m trying to work with is intimacy, but like from different angles. We, uh… For the assignment we were told to pick a sort of abstract or misunderstood concept, and research what we can to come up with a photo series that shows the deeper understanding of it. And uh, I went with intimacy.” His face is pink, and his gaze darts around the room in a nervous way Dan hasn’t witnessed yet.

Dan considers what this means for himself for a moment. He knows what he considers intimacy to be, which is basically sex and the things that go with being intimate before and after that. He can’t pretend he isn’t interested in what Phil wants to do with this concept, and honestly, after today, he feels comfortable enough that maybe he wouldn’t mind a little nude shoot. That might change due to his ever changing self-consciousness but he’s not totally opposed to it right now.

Phil must misunderstand his silence to mean he’s considering saying no. That thought’s laughable to Dan, at this point. “If you’re not comfortable, or if it’s something else, that’s totally fine! I mean, if you just don’t want to waste your time, I can pay you? But if you’re uncomfortable then-”

“I’ll do it.”

Phil stops talking. He blinks. Then, “What?”

Dan shrugs, an almost giddy feeling seeping into his chest. He tucks his hands into his pockets. “I said I’ll do it. I mean I reckon if you were gonna murder me, you would’ve done it by now. And I’m not too fussed about posing nude, but…” He’s not sure if what he’s about to say is obvious or not, but… “I’m… homosexually inclined, if you will.”

There’s a heavy silence. Phil blinks at him, twice. Then, he promptly bursts into giggles. Dan’s not impressed by that.

“Sorry, I’m not- homosexually inclined? Is that what we’re calling it these days? God, I’m getting old.” Phil laughs again, clutching his belly and tossing his head back with the force of it.

Dan’s fight-or-flight response is hovering on the edge of a knife, waiting to see if he’s going to have to protect himself from this situation somehow. He’s never actually had anyone start laughing in his face when he told them he was gay, but he reckons maybe he did say it in an odd way. Still, it was almost unsettling to see the soft look on Phil’s face once his giggles have subsided.

“I am too, by the way. Homosexually inclined,” Phil repeats the phrasing and smirks. Dan immediately relaxes. “That’s the only way I’ll ever come out to anyone ever again, so thank you for that.”

Dan rolls his eyes but pantomimes tipping a hat. “Happy to be of service.” Now that their truths are out in the open, he’s more relaxed, but also just that much more uneasy. Before, Phil was just this fit guy taking photos of him that Dan could quietly pine after and assume about. Now… now he knows for sure. And that scares the hell out of him. “So, Saturday?” Dan asks, clearing his throat to clear some of the tension in the room.

Phil nods, a familiar excited glint reappearing in his eyes. “Yeah, say… five-ish? The lighting is better when the sun’s going down.”

“Sure.” Dan takes this as his invitation to leave and heads back to the front door. Phil follows after him and stands by while Dan tugs his shoes back on. “Anything particular you’d like me to wear?” He doesn’t mean to flirt, but he can’t help but put on a certain tone of voice. He’s only human.

If Phil’s bothered by the obvious flirtation, he has a funny way of showing it. Smirking, he crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside him, his eyes raking over Dan’s body in a way that nearly makes him shiver. “If you’ve got a light colored sweater or something, that would work.” He tilts his head, considering for a moment. “And the Calvins are a nice touch, as well.”

Dan can’t help but smirk back, as if he knows what they’re doing here. He doesn’t, not really. “Why, reckon I’m gonna be back down to my pants for you?”

Phil stares him straight in the eyes as he nods. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

This does make Dan shiver. He can’t help it. His skin is suddenly feeling a little tacky, his clothes clinging a little too closely to his skin. “Right,” he mumbles, clearing his throat after. “See you Saturday?”

The grin on Phil’s face takes any of the previous heat away, but it leaves Dan warm in an entirely different way. “Saturday. I’ll see you then, Dan. Be safe.”

Dan offers a little wave as he steps out the door. He forces himself to take a deep breath before getting any further, processing what he’d just agreed to. Spending an evening with a very attractive, also gay man, taking perhaps racy photos.

God, Dan was so fucked.

~~~

Dan has counted down the days until Saturday, unashamedly. There’s no one but himself to shame him for his weird crush, and for now, he’s not going to beat himself up about it. That’s probably most definitely subject to change, he realizes once he’s standing at Phil’s door on Saturday evening, wearing black ripped jeans and a light tannish Yeezy sweater he’d spent way too much money on. He’s a little early, since they’d agreed on five, but Dan doesn’t actually think Phil will be all that bothered about it, honestly. At least, he sincerely hopes he isn’t.

Dan: im outside let me in

Phil: you should’ve sent the meme

Dan: ?

Dan hears the door click the same time his phone buzzes in his hand. He opens the door with one hand while his other clicks on the meme. He snorts when he sees it, having forgotten all about the Eric Andre meme, but this was certainly an appropriate moment to use it. Since he’s literally in the same building as Phil, Dan doesn’t bother typing out a response, pocketing his phone and making his way up to Phil’s flat.

Phil’s quick to open the door after Dan’s knocked, and Dan smiles automatically upon seeing his face. He’s not wearing glasses this time, and his hair is in an almost perfect quiff. Dan very much wants to touch it, but he knows that’s definitely not appropriate. Phil looks incredibly cozy right now, wearing a grey sweater and black skinny jeans.

“Hi,” Phil says, his voice sweet.

Dan can’t help the stupid grin on his face, stretching at his cheeks and probably caving his dimple. “Hi, yourself.”

He doesn’t have a chance to ask to come inside, as Phil’s suddenly shifting closer, his hand coming up to Dan’s face. Dan sucks in a sharp breath, heart beating out of rhythm. Whatever he’s expecting to happen isn’t Phil’s intention, apparently, as Dan’s surprised when he feels Phil’s finger sink into his dimple. “Hello to this part of you, specifically.”

It takes him a moment to process the disappointment he feels that Phil didn’t do something else, but then he’s just thrilled that Phil is touching his face so casually. Then, he hears what he said. Laughing, Dan swats his hand away. “Oh, fuck off.”

Phil grins at him. “What? It’s cute. Hello, there… Derek!”

Dan blinks. “Derek?”

Phil’s finger comes back up to gently dip into the concave space on Dan’s face. “Derek the dimple.”

“You’re really odd,” Dan muses. Phil’s face twists at this, and Dan smiles before stepping through the door beside him. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, walking over to where Phil keeps his shoes and toeing his trainers off. He tugs his coat off as well, looking around for somewhere to put it that doesn’t clutter some of Phil’s space.

“I’ll get it,” Phil says, coming to the rescue. He grabs the coat from Dan and leads the way into the lounge, the sound of the front door shutting behind them echoing into the room. “Have you eaten?” Phil asks, his back turned to Dan as he goes to hang Dan’s coat genty over a chair.

“No, I figured I’d eat later when I leave.” Dan goes to sit on the sofa, glancing around the room casually to see if anything’s changed since he was here last week.

Phil nods, but chews his bottom lip hesitantly. “Do you like pizza?”

Dan quirks a brow at this and tries not to smirk. “Are you trying to buy me dinner, Phil Lester?”

To his credit, Phil doesn’t seem very embarrassed by this. His eyes dart away but ultimately come back to Dan’s face, searching. “I guess so. If you’ll let me.”

Clearing his throat to hide the way he’s actually very pleased by this, Dan nods, following it with a noncommittal shrug. “Well, if you insist.”

Phil laughs, moving to his desk and grabbing his laptop. He returns to the sofa, dropping beside Dan and opening his laptop. “Domino’s okay?”

Dan nods and shifts on the sofa, tucking his feet up and leaning over to watch Phil order their food. “Have you tried the Sizzler?”

He realizes how close they are now when Phil turns his head and their eyes meet, mere inches apart. Phil has a lovely, surprised smile on his face. “The Sizzler is literally my favorite.”

This draws a pleased smile on Dan’s lips. “Yeah? You’ve got good taste, then.”

Phil nods. “It’s got just enough toppings to mask the flavor of the cheese, it’s great.”

Dan blinks. “Sorry, why would you actually want to mask the cheese? The cheese is the best part!”

Phil’s nose crinkles adorably as he turns back to the screen, clicking around on the order page. “I’m lactose intolerant, cheese just doesn’t really suit me.”

“Huh,” Dan hums. “I guess it’s good that mozzarella cheese basically just tastes of air, then.”

A dainty white hand comes up to rest over Phil’s chest as he mock-swoons. “You understand me,” he sighs.

Dan grins. He’s got the inexplicable urge to rest his head on Phil’s shoulder, but he refrains. Phil finishes up their order and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of them before leaning back. His head rolls to the side and he blinks up at Dan adorably. Dan takes this moment to reach forward and poke Phil’s cheek, much like he did earlier to Dan’s dimple.

“So, pizza then photoshoot?” Dan inquires, the soft silence overwhelming him.

Phil nods. Then shrugs, which is a very mixed-signal sort of gesture, Dan thinks. “Well, probably pizza and photoshoot, really.”

“What?”

Without answering, Phil stands, going over to his desk and grabbing a notebook. He glances around until he finds a pen, then rejoins Dan on the sofa. “Right, so, the photo series has four parts to it, representing the four types of intimacy. So I figured today we could work on the first part.”

Dan nods, as if he completely understands this. He doesn’t. “Alright. So what’s the first part?”

Phil flips some pages in the notebook until he reaches one with “Experiential” at the top. Dan glances at this word, then back to Phil, then back to the page. Phil must notice his confusion, as he laughs under his breath before handing the notebook over. “I tried to write a short explanation, but basically it’s like intimacy in doing mundane activities. Like… I don’t know, playing video games together, or doing an art project, or something.”

“Right…” Dan nods slowly. “So, are we going to do an art project together?” He’s half-kidding. Half, because he’s not very artistic but he actually likes the idea of doing something creative and fun with Phil, who seems to be the human embodiment of those ideas.

“No, although that probably would’ve been a good idea,” Phil says, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I actually thought we could play some video games or play a board game or something?”

Dan nods. “Sure, I’m always down to play video games. I should warn you though, I didn’t have any friends until uni, so I’ve had lots of time to get really good at pretty much every video game.”

There’s something fleetingly sad in Phil’s gaze, but he recovers with a laugh that warms Dan’s heart and has him smiling. “We’ll see about that.”

~~~

“Fucking fuck fuck!” Dan screams, his thumb aching from how tightly he’s holding the button to steer. “Get out of my ass!” he screeches at Phil.

Phil cackles from beside him, his kart closing in on Dan’s. “Stop shouting that! I have neighbors, you idiot!”

Dan makes a frustrated grunting noise when Phil somehow manages to pass him and cross the finish line first, a string of curses leaving his mouth as Phil squeals with joy beside him. Ever the petulant child, Dan throws the switch joy-con towards Phil, who yelps. Dan pitches to the side, letting out a frustrated noise against the sofa cushion. “You’re the worst,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning,” Phil taunts smugly.

Sitting up with a huff, Dan sends Phil a glare, only to startle when the camera flashes. He wants to be annoyed, but he can’t, not when he agreed to this impromptu shoot. And Phil’s been doing this for the past two hours since they finished their pizza and started playing Mario Kart, so if Dan was going to have a problem with it, he probably should have said so before now. He doesn’t actually, really. It’s always a little surprising, and it usually catches him off-guard since he’s rarely expecting it when it happens, but seeing Phil smile down at the camera every time he takes a photo makes it worth it.

“Rematch?” Phil asks, prodding Dan’s thigh with his joy-con, setting the camera down on the coffee table where it’s been residing for the majority of the evening. There’d been a couple times when Phil had gone to the kitchen under the pretense of getting something, only to surprise Dan by taking photos of him from behind the sofa. Dan doubts that those are any good, considering there’s probably nothing in shot but his unruly hair and the tv, but this is Phil’s project, so who is he to judge?

Dan rolls over so he’s on his back and drops his legs onto Phil’s lap, smiling when Phil begins rubbing his calves over his jeans. Whatever concept of personal space that existed hours ago is completely gone now, as both of them have taken to casual touches at almost any opportunity. Dan’s drowning in the feeling of this casual, friendly intimacy, and he idly wonders if that might be one of the themes for what Phil’s working on. “Depends, what time is it?”

Phil leans over to wake his phone up. “It’s a few minutes till eight,” he replies. He’s got an odd look on his face as he looks away from Dan before speaking again. “Why, got a hot date?”

This is one of those incredibly laughable things that Phil has said, and Dan treats it accordingly, dropping his head back to let out a cackle. “Bub, tonight you were the hot date.” He’s pleased by the surprised smile on Phil’s face. Dan’s cheeky for a moment and lifts his leg up to rub his foot against Phil’s thigh. “But no, I’ve just got revising to do. Exams coming up soon and the like.”

Phil doesn’t look particularly pleased by this, but nods in understanding. “Okay. Do you need to go home now?” His voice sounds just on the edge of disappointed, and Dan almost hates the way that makes him feel like he’s flying.

“I mean… I probably should. Why? Got other plans for me?” He smirks as he says it, obviously flirting.

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes this time. He shrugs, looking down at where his hands rest on Dan’s legs. “No, not really. I just like having you around.”

The naked honesty startles Dan into silence. He knows very few people who can tolerate him, let alone who actually enjoy his company, so this coming from Phil… Well, it’s a lot for Dan’s emotionally damaged brain to take in. After taking a moment to collect himself, he knocks his knee against Phil’s chest to prompt eye contact. Phil’s eyes are pools of blue and flecks of gold and Dan just knows he’s got a stupidly soft smile on his face as he speaks.

“I like being around you too, spork.”

Phil grins at this. He leans closer, just enough to sink his finger into Dan’s dimple. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

Dan nods, making no move to get off the sofa. “When do you want to work on the rest of the photos?”

There’s a shadow of something hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s gone so quickly Dan figures he imagined it. “You know, I’d like to hang out sometimes… Like, we don’t have to just work on that everytime we see each other, yeah?” He sounds nervous.

“Right,” Dan says slowly. It’s not that he hadn’t considered this, but he hadn’t gone so far as to assume Phil would actually want to do that. “Well, when’s the project due?”

“It’s not due until the end of December, so yeah… we’ve got time to work on that. I just…” Phil clears his throat as he looks away. He’s absentmindedly tugging on a thread on Dan’s jeans, and Dan wonders if he’s going to manage to pull it off completely. “We’re friends, yeah?”

An awkward laugh escapes Dan at that. He’s positive he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt on Phil’s face this time, but he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Yeah, Phil, of course we are. And sure, we can hangout whenever you want. In fact, what about tomorrow? I need to get some homework done, but we can meet up at the cafe for lunch?”

Phil smiles at this, a proper one with his tongue poking through his teeth. Dan melts at the sight. “Sure, okay, yeah. I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” Dan says, his voice mostly teasing. He leaves his words hanging in the air between them, open to whatever interpretation that Phil might want to give them.

“A date,” Phil echoes, nodding and looking down at where his hand is resting on Dan’s leg. “I guess I’ll let you get home, then.”

Even though Dan knows he needs to go, he doesn’t like the idea of actually doing it. Still, he can’t overstay his welcome, even if Phil does enjoy having him around. Besides, he needs to get home and take his meds before he goes to bed anyway. He drags his legs off Phil’s lap and stands, stretching his arms up above his head to give them some relief. They’d been lounging on the sofa for hours now, and he desperately needed to get his blood circulating again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Dan says on a yawn, dropping his hand to ruffle Phil’s hair. If Phil’s bothered by the gesture, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah.” He stands and follows Dan to the door, watching him as he gets ready to leave. “Oh, here,” Phil says suddenly, spinning around and stepping back into the lounge, returning with Dan’s coat in his hand. He holds it out and gestures for Dan to turn around. Dan does so, but he rolls his eyes as if he’s not secretly pleased by the gesture.

When Dan turns around, there’s a soft, fond look on Phil’s face. Dan wants to kiss him. He wants to so, so badly, but there’s still that voice in his head, reminding him that Phil isn’t interested in him in that way. So instead, he lifts his hand in a little two-fingered salute, cringing at himself as soon as he does it. “See you tomorrow, then, Philly.”

“Goodnight, Dan. Be safe going home.” The repeated sentiment stirs something warm in Dan’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Dan echoes softly as the door closes behind him.

~~~

Dan sits in the cafe, his laptop open on the table in front of him. He’s a few paragraphs into an essay about a topic he doesn’t care about and hardly remembers, his cursor blinking at him condescendingly. If the other two or three customers weren’t present, he’d thump his head on the table in anger, barista be damned. It’s the same barista that served him and Phil that night a couple weeks ago, Dan realizes, so they probably wouldn’t be surprised if Dan just started acting off his rocker.

He’s mid-thought about all the situations this barista has probably had to see, wondering to himself if she’s ever had to handle a mental breakdown, which then steers him onto the thought path of wondering if that’s what’s actually happening to him right now or if he’s overreacting. His train of thought is completely thrown off the track when he hears a voice as someone settles on the seat in front of him.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale,” Phil says, his face morphed into one of concern. He pushes a hand through his slightly disheveled quiff, helping it a little bit but mostly just giving it a more purposefully tousled look.

Dan blinks at him. “What would you do if I said I was having a mental breakdown?” he blurts unthinkingly.

Phil raises an eyebrow at him, looking surprised but not as confused as Dan expected him to. He leans forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his weight against them. It’s a good look, Dan thinks to himself idly. He’s wearing a pink and purple hoodie, and his black-framed glasses. He looks like a snack, if Dan’s completely honest. “Are you?” He asks, breaking Dan out of his cycle of inappropriate thoughts.

Sighing, Dan leans over and rests his head against the table, staring blearily up at Phil. “No? I mean… I don’t know, honestly. I don’t guess so.” He punctuates it with a shrug, which just results in him bumping his shoulder into the table. It stings.

Phil smiles down at him like he’s not bothered at all by Dan’s odd mood. It’s nice. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, sweet and considerate as ever.

Dan shrugs again. His shoulder aches now. He sits up with an exasperated groan. “I just feel like I’m wasting what’s left of my stupid life sat here working on a paper I don’t give two fucks about, but I can’t drop out because my parents would kill me. Not that I care what they think, but they’re helping me pay for a flat and stuff, so I can’t exactly do what I want, can I? I just… I want a different life. This one sucks.” He hadn’t realized how worked up he was until he’s finished, but now that he’s done with his rant, he’s left panting and maybe there’s a wetness in his voice that wasn’t there before. He clenches his eyes shut tightly. He’s not going to cry in front of his new friend, in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop. He isn’t.

The feeling of a hand brushing against his own has his eyes snapping open, staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil offers him a sympathetic smile. Dan hates pity, but he doesn’t feel like this is Phil’s intention, somehow. “Do you want to do something to take your mind off of all that?” Phil asks him sweetly.

Dan’s inclined to say yes. He’d love a break, even if it’s not for long, but he knows he needs to finish this godforsaken essay if he has a chance in hell of passing this class. “I can’t. I need to finish this essay.” His voice is bitter.

“Okay. Do you want me to leave so you can focus?” Phil doesn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but Dan appreciates the gesture.

“No, I can work with you here. If you don’t, you know, mind that I’m not going to be very entertaining.”

Phil laughs, his tongue poking out in Dan’s favorite smile. “I think I can entertain myself. I’ve got some things I can work on while you’re doing that. I’m a little behind some of my projects for work, so this would probably be a good time to finish them.”

Dan really needs to focus on his assignment, but the mention of Phil’s job piques his interest. He hadn’t really mentioned that before, although Dan had already deduced that he probably had some kind of job, considering he’s a part-time student living in a flat by himself. Unable to quell his curiosity, Dan props his head in his hand, watching Phil pull out a laptop and a notebook from his backpack. “What kind of projects?” He asks.

“Some videos to edit. Mostly ads and things like that. I think I’ve got a motivational video and a music video, too.” Phil makes a grimace at that, but Dan’s only about a thousand times more curious now.

Feigning nonchalance, Dan nods and glances at his own laptop. He’s got a little over a thousand words and he’s got to have twenty-five hundred to meet the assignment requirements. But, it’s not due for another week, so surely he can spare a few moments of watching Phil work, right?

Whether he can or not, he decides he’s going to.

“Can I watch you edit?” he asks, his voice unintentionally small.

Phil looks surprised when he glances up, but he’s quick to nod. “Yeah, of course. Um…” He points vaguely to the space on Dan’s side of the booth. “Mind if I move over there?”

Dan grins and moves his own backpack out of the way, clearing a spot for Phil to put his own things. “Be my guest,” he says, mocking a terrible French accent.

After moving his things over, Phil seems to remember that they were originally only meeting to have lunch, and yet neither of them have any food. “Do you want me to go grab us something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Dan reaches into his pocket for his wallet, but Phil’s hand on his wrist stops him.

“I’ll pay, I asked you out, remember?” Phil’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he stands from the table. “What do you want?”

Dan is very nearly blushing at how chivalrous Phil is being, but he clears his throat in an effort to control himself. “A strawberry lemonade, please.”

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, what else? What do you want to eat?”

It’s probably just the usual bout of nerves, but the idea of food is not very appealing to Dan in this moment. His stomach turns at the idea of eating something, and he’s pretty sure that it’s written all over his face. “I’m actually not very hungry right now,” he says awkwardly.

There’s a flash of confusion on Phil’s face, but he manages a slow nod. “Okay. So just the strawberry lemonade?”

Dan nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Phil says, flashing a smile. “Be right back, then.”

Dan tries not to watch Phil as he makes his way to the counter to order, but his attempt is probably mediocre at best. His eyes stray from him for a few seconds at a time, but generally his gaze is casually sweeping over Phil’s body, appreciating the way Phil’s jeans fit around his ass. As soon as that thought catches up with him, he looks away, embarrassed. He’s not about to sit here ogling his friend while they're out for lunch, even if they have held up a rather flirtatious banter since meeting.

“Here you go,” Phil says a few moments later, setting a fairly large pink drink in front of Dan. He’s got something pink as well, but it’s a deeper, more magenta shade than Dan’s. “I also got you a pistachio muffin, for later, if you decide you’re hungry.” Phil places a paper bag down, and Dan stares at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thank you,” Dan stutters out.

Phil shrugs, moving to sit down back beside Dan. He situates his drink on the right side of his laptop before reaching for the paper bag. He takes out a bagel, sitting it on a napkin and closing the bag back up, scooting it towards Dan. He glances at him, appearing a little startled to find Dan already staring back at him. Before Dan can apologize for being creepy, Phil smiles and points to the bag. “Take it home, if you don’t want it now. You’ll be hungry eventually.”

Dan can’t say no to that, obviously, so he just nods mutely. “Alright, sure.”

Looking pleased with himself, Phil opens up his laptop and clicks around until he’s got a video editing program loading up, switching back to his email to click on the file attached. “So, usually clients just email me and after we agree on rates and such, I put the things I’m sent in folders that are in order of due date. I’m a little behind, so I haven’t organized these yet, but I don’t have that many to work on, so it’s not that big of a deal,” Phil explains as he opens his files and renames the thing he’s downloading.

Nodding along, Dan reaches blindly for his drink, his nose wrinkling when he takes a sip. Glancing down, he realizes he’d picked up Phil’s by mistake. “Mate, what is this?” he asks teasingly, gesturing to the cup when Phil looks at him in confusion.

“It’s dragon fruit lemonade,” Phil says defensively.

“It’s terrible,” Dan decides, setting it down and reaching for his own instead.

“It is not! It’s really tasty,” Phil argues, snatching his drink and taking a long, exaggerated sip as if to prove his point.

Dan scrunches his nose, definitely not agreeing with that assessment. “Try mine,” he offers, holding his cup out for Phil to take a sip from.

Phil rolls his eyes but leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw and taking a little sip. Dan gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes again before sucking a little more into his mouth. Swallowing and leaning back, Phil narrows his eyes, looking to be seriously contemplating the taste. “Well, it’s not terrible, but mine’s just more exotic and fancy.”

“You should stick to editing and photography, bub. You’d make a terrible lemonade critic,” Dan says solemnly.

There’s an adorable pout on Phil’s lips as he jokingly digs his elbow into Dan’s side. “Rude,” he mumbles, focusing on his laptop again.

Dan grins, and leans closer, tentatively dropping his chin onto Phil’s shoulder to watch him work. Phil’s eyes dart to meet his, and Dan offers him a saccharine-sweet smile. Phil makes a big show out of rolling his eyes at this, but ultimately he focuses on his work, quietly talking Dan through the process as he edits clips and adds sound when appropriate.

Eventually, Dan goes back to working on his essay, but they stay close, talking when there’s a lull in creativity or when Dan just cannot take a moment more of affidavits and case files. Phil sometimes prods him and asks him to watch a section of the video he’s working on, asking if the transitions are smooth to an untrained eye, and Dan likes helping when he can. It’s nice, he realizes, working beside someone even when they’re both working on their own separate projects. It’s copacetic.

“I’m so tired of this,” Dan groans, thumping his head back against the booth. It makes a cracking sound and he winces, a sharp pain spreading across his skull. “Ow,” he whines.

Phil glances at him, concerned. “You alright?”

Dan nods, rubbing the back of his head. He gets a cheeky idea and pouts at Phil. “Kiss it better?” he simpers.

Phil doesn’t even blink. He rolls his eyes but nods, gesturing for Dan to get closer. “Turn your head, you little troll.”

Surprised that Phil’s actually catering to this whim, it takes Dan a moment to do as he’s told. He does, though, turn his head to look away, his hand still covering the spot he’d injured. He feels Phil take his hand and move it out of the way, and then he feels a gentle kiss pressed to the tender spot. His veins flood with warmth, so suddenly it causes a shiver down his spine. There’s no way Phil doesn’t notice it.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it. “Does it hurt badly?” Phil asks sweetly, his dainty fingers coming up to gently skim Dan’s scalp.

“No,” Dan says faintly. “Just tender.”

Phil hums. “Poor thing,” he mocks. He’s still stroking Dan’s hair, but Dan turns his head anyway, pouting when he sees the smirk on Phil’s face.

“I’m injured, and here you are, taking the piss.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time you’ll tone down the theatrics,” Phil suggests.

Dan huffs. “I was a theatre kid, it’s in my blood.”

Whatever he said seems to strike Phil as interesting, as he tilts his head and considers Dan, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why don’t you do theatre anymore?” Phil asks, completely out of left field.

Dan lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t know. I just… Don’t?”

Phil nods. He shrugs, then, turning back to his laptop. “I think you should do some auditions. You’ve got an actual talent for it, I think you’d do really well.”

This throws Dan for a loop. He wasn’t expecting Phil to say anything like that, not at all. He knew he was usually dramatic, but it was mainly in a funny kind of way, he never thought about getting seriously involved with theatre now that he was an adult. It’s… not a bad idea, though. He’s not entirely opposed, at least.

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally. He actually really likes the idea of getting involved in it, now that it’s been presented to him as an option. He doesn’t plan on telling Phil that yet, though, no matter how much he genuinely likes him. “Can you read over this paragraph and tell me what you think?”

~~~

The days and weeks pass by in a flurry after that day in the cafe. Dan wasn’t aware how much free time he really had until he started spending it with Phil. There was hardly a single day that passed when he didn’t spend time with Phil, either at Phil’s flat, the cafe, or even the library, which is where they found themselves now. Dan had a research project due in two days, and in true Dan fashion, he’d procrastinated it until the last possible moment. Phil had wanted to work on his photo series some more today, and when Dan said he had to finish this project, Phil said that it was perfect for what he needed.

So there they were, sat across from each other in the library, Dan hard at work on his stupid research project while Phil scribbled in a notebook and occasionally took photos of Dan. Sometimes Phil would stand up without saying a word, only to walk around and take shots from different angles. Dan was genuinely trying to submerge himself in his project, so most of the time he wasn’t even aware of what Phil was doing, too caught up in his own head to pay too much attention.

If Phil had any complaints about Dan’s focus being on his own work, he didn’t say. Sometimes he would say Dan’s name, snapping a photo as soon as Dan looked up at him, but mostly he just stayed quiet, working on his own things while Dan did the same. They’d done this a lot, when Dan or Phil had work they needed to get done but they wanted to spend time together. It was nice, working in a shared space on their own things, although sometimes if they were at Phil’s flat they’d get distracted by food or anime or video games. Still, even that was nice, as Phil was lovely to be around regardless of what they were doing.

They’d been at the library for probably close to three hours now, and Dan was reaching his limit. He had actually gotten a lot done, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading. It didn’t help that he was basically starving, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else, he closes his laptop and folds his arms over it, resting his head on his forearms and closing his eyes. He hears a shift in front of him and a few moments later he feels a body in the seat next to his, a hand coming to stroke his back in soft sweeps.

“You okay?” Phil’s soft voice whispers.

Dan nods, not opening his eyes. “Just tired. Can we be done for today?”

Phil laughs quietly. “Yeah, bub, we can be done. Do you want to come back to mine?”

Wordlessly, Dan nods again. Phil hums a confirming noise before going to gather up his things. It takes Dan a moment, but eventually he sits up and does the same, shoving his laptop in his bag along with one of his law textbooks. Phil takes one of the books he’d been using and disappears to put it back for him, and just the thought of the gesture warms Dan up from the inside.

It’d been a little over a month since they met and nothing had happened between them yet. Not that he didn’t love just being Phil’s best friend; he did, so much. But… He wouldn’t keep lying to himself, he was interested in Phil romantically. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between friendship and more, though, not when he had no solid proof that Phil felt the same. Other than some assumptions that Phil liked him due to some of his behaviors, Dan had nothing to go on. And, he reasoned, someone can be nice to you without wanting to date you, and he can’t fault Phil for being a good person, even if it threw his emotions for a loop every time.

“Ready to go?” Phil asks, suddenly standing beside the table, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Dan nods, dragging himself out of his melancholy thoughts in order to stand and grab his own backpack. He follows Phil outside, sending the librarian a polite smile as they pass her. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going, trusting Phil to lead them safely, so when his body collides into something solid, a squeak falls out of his mouth without his permission.

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan, a smile on his face. “Sorry,” he apologizes for his abrupt stop that caused Dan to run into him. He gestures outside. “It’s pouring,” he informs him.

Fuck. Dan could honestly cry right now, in a totally not dramatic way. He’s just had a mentally draining day, and to see that on top of that it’s pouring down rain, well, it’s not his favorite thing ever, that’s for sure. He’s highly aware of the fact that his hair is tediously straightened and pushed up into a sort-of fluffy quiff that could never look anywhere near as good as Phil’s does. But he knows that this rain will very much ruin that illusion, and he’s hyper aware of the fact that Phil has yet to see his curly hair.

So, yeah, he could cry.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks, that same soft voice he always uses when he thinks Dan’s upset about something. “It probably won’t rain for long, we can wait it out, if you want,” he offers.

Dan’s inclined to say yes just so Phil doesn’t see his natural hair, but his growling stomach and borderline exhaustion demands that he find a soft sofa, preferably Phil’s, as soon as possible. “No, it’s fine,” Dan mumbles. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to yours and order some food, right?”

Phil is definitely aware that Dan is not feeling right, but he graciously doesn’t call him out on it now. Dan knows that will not last, but he’s grateful for it nevertheless. “Of course. Come on, watch your step, it’s probably slippery.” Phil reaches for Dan’s hand probably without thinking, and Dan lets him take it. Phil’s hand is cool to the touch, despite the fact that it wasn’t all that cold inside the library, and Dan absently remembers something he’d said about a week ago when they were watching Bake Off at Phil’s flat.

“Dan, c’mere!” Phil whined, reaching for Dan’s shirt and tugging him into a sort-of-but-not-quite cuddle on the sofa. Dan went easily, allowing Phil to pull him in, completely unbothered. If anything, he was thrilled. Phil was a little tipsy, but Dan was more than happy to oblige this whim, and he’d make sure Phil’s inebriation didn’t lead to anything they wouldn’t allow themselves to do sober. “You’re so warm,” Phil sighed, tucking his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. “Like a little space heater.”

The memory of that moment flashes back into Dan’s mind now, and he can’t help but squeeze Phil’s hand, trying to transfer some of his warmth to the other man’s chilled fingers. Phil glances back at Dan, but doesn’t pull his hand away. He squeezes back and turns to watch where they’re going, leading the way sure-footedly. Dan’s happy to let him.

~~~

The rain is relentless the whole way back to Phil’s flat, and both of them are shivering by the time they get inside. Phil’s all mumbled apologies as he heads to his bedroom, going to retrieve some dry clothes for them to change into. Dan waves him off as he goes, tugging his sopping shoes off and depositing them next to the door. He peels off his hoodie, leaving his t-shirt practically plastered to his chest. It’s a bad day for a white t-shirt, he realizes, seeing the way it’s practically transparent with water.

“I got you a hoodie and some pants. Do you want-” Phil stops, and Dan looks up at him, holding his dripping hoodie out sheepishly.

“Sorry, I don’t know where you want me to put this,” Dan apologizes, gesturing with the wet fabric.

Phil is very obviously checking him out right now, but Dan is very much pretending not to be affected by it in the least. “Uh… I’ll throw it in the wash for you,” he answers, his voice a little strained. He shakes his head, perhaps to clear it, then reaches out to hand Dan the little bundle of clothes in his hand. “I left a couple pairs of sweatpants out on the bed, you can just pick whatever you want to wear. I know you’re picky about your matching outfits or whatever,” Phil sounds a little bit more himself, punctuating his words with a teasing roll of his eyes.

Dan sticks his tongue out childishly, trading his hoodie for the dry clothes. “If I don’t care about my look, I’ll end up with fashion catastrophes like this!” He complains, gesturing wildly to Phil’s bright yellow emoji bottoms, which he’s paired with an old Friends t-shirt.

Huffing, Phil pushes him gently into the direction of his bedroom. “Go get changed, you absolute menace. I’ll order chinese.”

“Ooh, get me some egg rolls,” Dan calls back. He hears an exasperated sigh, but he grins, knowing Phil will order him all the egg rolls he wants. He loves that about him, among other things. He finds several pairs of sweatpants on the bed, and after a moment of consideration he chooses a pair of plain grey ones. Not that it matters, he reasons with himself, even as he double checks that the grey doesn’t clash with the offensive highlighter green of the hoodie he’s been given.

After changing into Phil’s clothes, Dan takes his wet clothes down the hall and deposits them in Phil’s washer. He hasn’t started it running yet, so Dan goes ahead and does it himself, humming quietly as he tosses a tide pod in and sets the water temperature. When he’s finished, he turns around, nearly having a heart attack when he sees Phil standing there, watching him with a small smile.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, you made me jump!” Dan nearly gasps, his hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “Why’re you creeping?” he asks, his voice bordering on whiny as he steps past him and goes to the lounge.

Phil giggles, like properly giggles, at that. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t hear me over your concert.”

Dan sends him a glare. “Don’t mock me, Lester.”

“I would never,” Phil promises, batting his eyelashes playfully. Dan doesn’t believe it for a second, but he rolls his eyes and drops onto the sofa, choosing to ignore him. “Your hair’s all wet,” he observes.

The reminder has Dan biting his lip and bringing his hands up to flatten it as much as he can. “I know,” he says sadly.

“Want me to get you a towel?” Phil offers.

When Dan shrugs, Phil takes this as permission and hauls himself off the sofa and disappears down the hall to the bathroom. Left alone, Dan takes a moment to look down at the hoodie he’s wearing now. It’s bright, bright green, a shade he normally wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, and it’s got the York University emblem on it. Dan vaguely remembers Phil saying he’d gone there, but it had been awhile since they’d talked about it, and Dan honestly didn’t have much reason to remember it. But, being wrapped in something so personal to Phil, who seemingly loved his university days, has Dan feeling warm and fuzzy and full of something that’s just a bit too close to something.

“Here,” Phil’s voice comes from beside him, and Dan looks up to see him holding a towel out for Dan as he sits down. The weight of the realization Dan’s just had, or what feels like a realization, leaves him immobile, staring dumbly at the towel like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Want me to do it?” Phil offers, his voice dripping in sugar sweetness.

All Dan can do is nod numbly, but that’s all the permission Phil needs. He shifts to sit up on his knees, giving him a height advantage that normally Dan has between the two of them. He’s gentle as he rubs the towel over Dan’s hair, and Dan’s eyes are glued onto every shift in Phil’s expression. Phil seems to notice, his eyes dropping to study Dan’s face with a tender gaze. Carefully, slow enough that Dan could stop him if he wanted to, Phil shifts, moving one of his legs to the other side of Dan’s, properly straddling his lap when he settles.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. The word sends shivers through Dan’s whole body. He’s warm all over, his chest a furnace of heat where his heart is frantically pumping to the whisper of his name leaving Phil’s lips. “Is this okay?”

Dan can’t breathe, he definitely can’t speak, so all he manages is a weak nod. Phil’s eyes search Dan’s, and there’s something cautious, unsure in his gaze. Dan hopes, he fucking prays that the same look isn’t mirrored in his own gaze, because god, he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. His hands, shaky as they are, come to rest gently at Phil’s hips. The touch startles Phil into shifting on his lap and Dan can’t help but drop his forehead to Phil’s shoulder with a soft groan.

“Sorry,” Phil laughs. His hand comes up to card through Dan’s curling hair, apparently dropping the pretense of drying it. “Your hair’s curly,” he notices, sounding surprised. This is not where Dan thought this was going at all. “I didn’t know your hair was curly.” He almost sounds offended.

Choking out a laugh at the ridiculous turn in conversation, Dan rolls his head to the side and stares incredulously up at Phil. “I know. That was intentional, believe me.”

Phil frowns at him. “It’s cute,” he says, his tone defensive.

Dan snorts. “For a hobbit, maybe.” He closes his eyes, relaxed in the way Phil pets his head gently.

“A very cute hobbit,” Phil insists. Dan feels his lips drag across his temple and he shivers again.

Pulling away, Dan looks up into Phil’s face and smiles at the adorable pout on his lips. And looking at that, Dan really doesn’t know that a stronger man could resist it. He leans in, but he remembers something important at the last second. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips a breath away from Phil’s.

There’s an audible gulp, and Dan readies himself for rejection. Phil’s lips part, and he knows, already, that it’s going to be a no, he could never be lucky to meet a guy who is both attractive and sweet and also gay and-

Two things happen at once.

Phil, for all his hesitation, breathes out a quiet, but certain, “yes.”

At the exact moment, there’s a jarring buzz, signalling the takeaway has arrived.

Dan has quite literally never been so full of disappointment.

They sit, frozen in the moment for just that- a moment. And then Phil’s sending him an apologetic smile, shifting to rise from Dan’s lap. Dan’s foolish hands latch onto his shirt, and Phil gently tugs them loose, a fleeting expression of sadness on his features. He hesitates, but then gestures to the door, backing away from the sofa. Dan’s certain his devastation is palpable.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dan can only watch him go. Whatever invisible wall was holding the waves of disappointment from crashing against the shore of Dan’s heart comes crumbling down the moment Phil disappears from view and Dan allows himself a moment to hurt for this missed opportunity. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he allows it to wash over him. It was in the moment, he’s certain. That was his specific moment, maybe the only moment he’ll get to act on his feelings. Fuck. Fuck it all, if that’s how this dissipates between them. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair and-

“Dan.” Phil’s voice is firm, assured. Dan barely has the energy to look at him, but when he does something passes over Phil’s face, a clear understanding of what Dan’s feeling in this moment. He doesn’t give Dan a chance to respond, setting the takeaway bag on the coffee table and immediately resuming his position on Dan’s lap.

Confused but not opposed, Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, clutching the t-shirt in his fingers. Phil smiles down at him. It’s a sweet, affectionate thing. His hand comes up to rest on Dan’s cheek, his thumb brushing down and dipping into the dimple Phil’s got such an affinity for. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, repeating Dan’s own words.

Swallowing hard, Dan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, please.”

That’s all the permission Phil needs to lean in, framing Dan’s lips with his own. Dan’s hand comes up and rests on Phil’s wrist, his other still scrabbling for purchase against Phil’s side. He leans into the feeling of Phil’s lips on his, a soft give and take as they part and come back together several times, really just working out what the other likes. Phil’s not taking it further than the soft almost-open-mouth kisses that they’re sharing now, and Dan’s definitely okay with that.

After what probably isn’t more than five minutes, Phil gently presses a hand to Dan’s chest and slowly pulls away. His gaze is soft as he looks at Dan, his tongue absentmindedly swiping across his lips in a way that Dan thinks should be illegal. “Food, then… more of that?” Phil questions hopefully.

Dan nearly laughs. As if he wants literally anything else. “Absolutely more of that. The food can honestly go fuck itself right now, though, if I’m being honest.” Of course, his stomach decides that it’s an appropriate time to remind them how long it’s been since they’ve eaten, and they both glance down in surprise as it growls. Dan’s cheeks flush, while Phil cackles maniacally.

“Sorry, that was just- you tried- and then-” Phil is practically gasping for air, covering his mouth as he giggles. “Right. Let’s get some food in you, before you turn into the hulk or something.”

Dan pouts when Phil climbs off his lap and begins sorting out their food. “Rude, honestly.”

Phil hums, shrugging. “I bought your dinner, I reckon I can insist that you eat it,” he teases, grinning over his shoulder at Dan.

“Whatever, fine,” Dan says. He stands, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ribena?” He asks. He’s familiar enough with Phil’s kitchen that it doesn’t feel weird offering to go make their drinks.

“Wine, actually. There should be a bottle in the fridge from last time.” He doesn’t meet Dan’s eyes when he says this, but Dan’s secretly thrilled. They’d had a disagreement about whether or not you should chill wine before drinking it. Dan was pro-chill, and Phil was indifferent but insisted he didn’t have space in his refrigerator to keep a full bottle of wine. Much maneuvering later, Dan managed to fit in a smaller bottle of rose, much to his own delight.

“Right, some wine coming right up,” Dan says, affecting a heavily posh accent as he disappears into the kitchen.

As he’s pouring their drinks, the events of the last half hour finally hit him. He actually has to lower the bottle of wine to take a moment to process the fact that he’d just kissed his best friend. They’d fully made out, right there on Phil’s sofa. Dan manages to stifle his shocked laugh, because as thrilled as he is by this turn of events, he really doesn’t want Phil to hear him laughing to himself in his kitchen like some kind of idiot.

“A glass of rose, for you,” Dan announces as he comes back into the lounge.

Phil grins up at him, taking the drink with his nose raised up in the air. “Thank you, waiter,” he says, affecting a terrible posh accent.

Dan settles onto the sofa beside him, giving him a sideways glance. “Are you trying to mock me?”

There’s a sipping noise, and Phil offers a shrug as he smirks into his glass of wine. “Perhaps.”

“I do not talk like that.” He does.

Phil shrugs, setting his glass down. He looks back at Dan, tilting his head in a considering sort of way. “I reckon you kind of have some sort of Christopher Robin kinda vibe.”

Dan can’t help but dimple at him. “Winnie the Pooh was literally my favorite thing in the world when I was, like, six.”

“Really?” Phil asks. He sounds endeared. “That’s cute. You kinda look like Christopher Robin, too, actually.”

“I mean, right now I definitely look like a hobbit, not a cute animated character from a loveable children’s franchise, but thanks, I guess?”

Phil rolls his eyes at this, stuffing his mouth full of rice. He chews quickly, and as soon as he swallows he looks at Dan, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks like disappointment. “I really don’t like you talking trash about yourself. I think your hair is really cute.” Dan starts to protest and Phil raises a hand to stop him. “I know, but I’m just saying. You may not agree, but I just wanted you to know, that like, it’s a good look.”

Dan looks down at his food, his heart swooping as the words sink into his skin. He clears his throat, glancing over at Phil and nodding. “Right, well… thanks.”

There’s a smile on Phil’s face as he shrugs. He catches Dan off-guard, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. Dan’s face feels like it’s burning at the touch. “Netflix?”

~~~

It’s several hours later and the sun has set over the horizon, leaving a dusky light streaming in through the balcony door. Not that Dan is paying attention to the lighting right now. That’s the last thing on his mind, actually. Right now he’s sat in Phil’s lap, his mouth working fervently against Phil’s. Phil’s got his hands on Dan’s ass, and every now and then he squeezes gently, sending a shock of shivers down Dan’s spine. It’s so good, Dan is actually wondering why the hell they hadn’t tried this before.

Taking a breath, Dan pulls away, blinking blearily down at Phil. His hair is a mess from Dan’s hands running through it, and his lips are pink and slick with a mixture of their spit. He’s so goddamn perfect, Dan really wishes he had a camera.

With a laugh, he realizes he has access to a very nice camera right now. He twists his torso and reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing the very expensive and professional camera of Phil’s. He tinkers with it until he figures out how to turn it on, then he looks at Phil, raising his eyebrows in question. Phil studies him for a second but nods. Dan grins, lifting the camera up and taking what is probably a really clumsy and terrible shot of Phil’s face. He takes two more, and on the third, Phil reaches for Dan, sliding his hands up underneath his borrowed shirt.

“Oh!” Dan squeaks when Phil rubs his thumb over a nipple. Dan drops the camera, carefully, onto the cushion beside them. He sighs, dropping his head back as Phil leans in and latches his lips onto Dan’s neck.

He only kisses at first, then small nibbles follow. After a few moments, he tilts his head back and looks up at Dan with a smile. “Do you like this?” Phil asks, his voice incredibly sweet.

Dan laughs and nods, dropping a hand to run through Phil’s hair again. “God, yes. You can keep going. I really like it a lot.”

“Teeth?” Phil asks, scraping them gently across a patch of Dan’s skin as he says it.

A shiver runs over Dan’s spine, and his hand tightens in Phil’s hair. “Yes,” he breathes, barely holding in a moan.

Phil goes back to lavishing his neck in kisses, and now gentle bites that increase in intensity until Dan is a whining, throbbing mess, rocking his hips against Phil’s desperately. One of Phil’s hands comes down to squeeze his ass, and Dan just needs a little bit more, just a little, and he’ll get there.

“Fuck, Phil. I’m so close,” he pants, dropping his forehead against Phil’s shoulder. It makes it harder for Phil to access his neck, but Dan can’t take anymore of the torture. It’s too much.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Phil whispers in his ear.

Dan doesn’t even consider saying no. “Yes,” he breathes.

Phil gently guides him off his lap, leaving Dan standing in front of him as he makes quick work of pulling down Dan’s sweatpants. His blue eyes dance with mischief behind wisps of fallen hair as he takes Dan in the palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the weeping head of his cock. “Is it weird to tell you that you’re just as beautiful here as you are everywhere else?” Phil whispers, his words dancing into the air between them.

Carefully, Dan drops a hand to Phil’s hair, brushing it back to see his eyes, unobstructed. “No. Not weird at all,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly strangled with emotion. Phil smiles up at him, and Dan’s so fucking gone.

The blowjob is one of the best he’s ever received. The awkwardness of being with a new person that way doesn’t claw through his ribs the way it normally does, he doesn’t try to hide from the way Phil holds his gaze as his cheeks hollow around Dan’s cock. He’s so… content, in Phil’s care, so unafraid of the way Phil handles him, sucking and wanking him with enthusiasm, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. Dan’s whole body is on fire, and for every minute Phil works his mouth, he’s just that little bit closer to falling apart.

He tugs on Phil’s hair when he’s close. Phil blinks at him, maybe attempting a wink, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. Dan shivers. Pulling away for just a moment, Phil smacks his lips together and gazes up at Dan with something so heart-wrenchingly warm, Dan nearly looks away. “You can go in my mouth, if you want. I don’t mind the taste.”

Dan pets his hair. It’s ridiculously soft and smooth, just a bit greasy from going a little too long unwashed. Dan loves it. “Okay,” he murmurs. He gently guides Phil back to where he was, and Phil goes eagerly. Dan isn’t sure if it’s his enthusiastic approach to the task, or the way Phil’s eyes look, but when he falls over the edge, filling Phil’s throat with release, he feels the relief deep in his bones.

Phil neatly tucks Dan back into his pants before pulling his sweatpants up his legs, while Dan’s arms remain useless at his sides. He watches as Phil leans in, nuzzling his stomach before pressing a kiss to the waistband of the sweats, and Dan’s dizzy with the fresh wave of heat that courses through his body.

Rather than acting on his own sudden desire, Dan drops to his knees before the sofa, staring up at Phil and running his hands over his thighs. He’s impressed with Phil’s stamina, because despite being very obviously hard, he’s not touched himself this whole time. Phil stares down at Dan with such a sweet, easy grin, that Dan knows, he just knows that he can never go back from this. This feeling, the way Phil looks at him like he’s just put every star in the sky- Dan’s already addicted to it.

“Phil,” Dan breathes. He brings his hand that much closer to where Phil so desperately needs him. “Let me touch you.”

Phil kisses him. The angle should be awkward, with Dan knelt on the floor the way he is, but it’s nothing more than perfect. When they part, Phil sinks the pad of his thumb into Dan’s dimple. “Touch me,” he encourages.

The flutter of excitement in his stomach propels Dan forward, pushing gently on Phil’s shoulders so he’ll lean back, giving Dan space to work. Phil’s pajama bottoms, as disgustingly bright yellow as they might be, are loose and easy to work down Phil’s thighs. Dan’s patience expires there, however, and he makes no further move to remove them completely, instead shifting forward and tugging at the red Calvins that are so useless in concealing the shape of Phil.

“Fuck,” Dan whines as soon as they’re out of the way.

“Hm?” Phil inquires. His eyes are hooded when Dan looks up, and if he didn’t know any better, he might think Phil was drunk.

Dan swallows hard before leaning forward, giving a few little kitten licks to the head of Phil’s cock. “You’ve got a lovely cock. I thought you would.”

Phil groans. His hand catches in the mess of Dan’s drying hair. “How often have you thought about it?”

Dan pretends to consider this. “Enough,” he decides. Every day, his subconscious adds. He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond, getting right down to business, stretching his lips around Phil and relishing in the weight on his tongue, the taste of him, the texture. All these things he loves about sucking cock, but attached to a person he loves even more.

The thought shocks him enough that he manages to accidentally gag himself.

“You alright?” Phil whispers, ever the considerate one. His hands are carding through Dan’s curls, and he’s got an awed look about him, as if he likes Dan’s hair like this, likes Dan like this.

Dan nods mutely. He has to pause, though, just so the thought bouncing around his head doesn’t do something reckless, like take a step out of his mouth. He presses a fleet of kisses to Phil’s thighs, counting them so that both thighs will get an equal amount of affection. When his head finally quiets, Phil’s growing soft.

“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. He presses his lips to the side of Phil’s cock and suckles. “My head was being loud. I needed a minute.”

Phil’s eyes could be screaming, the affection in them is that loud. “Take your time. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop.”

Shaking his head, Dan offers him a grin. “Don’t get greedy, Lester. You’ve already shown me your willy, you might as well share it.”

Phil squeaks, his cheeks tinting with pink. He covers his face with his hands, peeking through the forest of fingers to blink at Dan. “Well, go on, then. You can… you know. As a treat.”

Dan giggles. He kisses Phil’s left thigh, then his right. Then he takes him back into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base. One of Phil’s hands slips into Dan’s hair, but the other tangles with the fingers of Dan’s free hand. For every swirl of his tongue through Phil’s slit, Dan squeezes Phil’s fingers, and every time Dan drops to take him deeper, Phil tugs on his hair, a whispered apology falling from his lips every time.

“Close, Dan.” Phil sounds breathless, and Dan glances up at him, shivering at the sight of Phil already staring back, his full bottom lip captured between his teeth as he gazes down at him.

Dan doesn’t like the taste, normally. He usually only swallows to be polite, or if it’s convenient.

When Phil releases into his mouth, Dan swallows for neither of those reasons. He’s curious, and he wants to know how he tastes. Some part of him probably also just wants to impress Phil, but that part is secondary to the way his tongue cleans Phil off when he’s finished, greedy for a closeness that such an intimate part of sex provides.

When he pulls away, he blinks up at Phil, a little blearily. Phil sighs contently before swiping his thumb across Dan’s lips, no doubt cleaning him up. Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Phil swipes at his cheeks. “Come here,” he murmurs, tugging Dan up.

His legs are tv static beneath him, and will certainly be sore tomorrow, but Dan allows Phil to tug him into a sort of cradle in his lap. He doesn’t speak, he only pets Dan’s hair, peppering his face with sweet kisses while Dan thinks. It was only a couple tears, really, he justifies himself. Probably from allowing Phil as far down his throat as he did. There’s no other reason he would be emotional enough to cry while giving a blowjob, that’s for sure.

Dan’s not sure how long they sit there like that, but eventually he realizes it’s dark and panics. “I need to go.”

Phil’s eyes flash with hurt. “You can stay,” he argues gently.

He could. “I can’t,” Dan whispers.

Phil presses his forehead to Dan’s temple and takes a deep breath. “Tell me I don’t have anything I need to apologize for.”

Dan sinks his hand into Phil’s ruffled hair. “Of course you don’t. I wanted this.”

At that, Phil flinches away like he’s been burned. “As in, past tense? Like you don’t anymore?” His voice is panicked, and Dan would do, or will do, anything to calm him.

He gently cups Phil’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cherry lips. “I want it. I want you.”

“Then stay,” Phil breathes.

Phil won’t make him. Dan knows he won’t. But he feels chained to this sofa, to Phil, as if he can feel the metal carving into his wrists.

“I’ll stay,” Dan promises.

~~~

When Dan wakes up, the first thing he notices is a weight against his back. It takes him a second to remember the night before, but when he does, his lips twitch into a smile. Carefully, so he doesn’t wake Phil, he shifts, rolling over until he comes face to face with the other man. Phil’s mouth is dropped open in sleep, and Dan leans closer, admiring his beautiful eyelashes. He feels a little creepy staring at Phil while he’s sleeping, but Dan can’t tear his eyes away. There’s just something so soft about Phil deep in sleep, something that has Dan completely captivated.

Until Phil begins to wake up, that is.

Dan quickly scoots back, pretending he just woke up to save himself the embarrassment. He watches Phil wake up through half-lidded eyes, smirking to himself when Phil smacks his lips loudly, only to groan when he realizes how bad his morning breath is, probably. His blue eyes flicker over to Dan and suddenly that gorgeous grin is taking over his features again, filling Dan with this bubbly sort of happiness that he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Good morning,” Phil mumbles, his voice scratchy from sleep. Dan feels his face flood with heat at the way that sound affects his still-sleepy body.

“Hi,” Dan squeaks, turning over to hide his growing problem in his pants. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm. But the waking is better by far,” Phil says with a cheeky grin. Dan returns it, right up until Phil leans in, planning to kiss him no doubt.

Dan makes quick work of covering Phil’s mouth. “Not so fast there, Casanova,” he tuts.

He feels Phil frown against the palm of his hand. “Why not? I had your willy in my mouth last night, and now I don’t get a good morning kiss?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “First of all, you need some lessons on consent. I can consent to something one day and not want it the next, you turnip.”

Phil presses a gentle kiss to the palm of Dan’s hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pauses for a beat. “Could I please have a morning kiss?” he asks sweetly.

“Pft,” Dan snorts. He pats Phil’s mouth softly. “You didn’t brush your teeth last night, so that’s a hard no, bub.”

“Okay. How about if I go brush and use mouthwash? Then can I have a tiny kiss?” Phil requests, his eyes lighting up with joy. Dan wants to laugh at him- he’s like a little kid begging for a new toy.

“I’ll consider it,” he teases.

No sooner are the words out of his mouth before Phil is stumbling his way off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Be right back!” he sing-songs.

Dan snorts but watches him go. Left alone, the creeping doubts and worries begin weighing on him. They haven’t defined this, whatever it is, and Dan doesn’t want to be the one to ask. Phil’s older, he reasons, so he should be the one to ask Dan out or whatever. Just the thought of actually seriously dating Phil at all is enough to make him want to throw up with happy nerves, the best possible kind of lovesick butterflies inhabiting his stomach.

Still, as excited as it makes him, Dan doesn’t want to be the one to initiate the awkward “what are we” talk. He’s had his heart broken far too many times over that talk, or at the very least his pride. Another, smaller voice, argues that maybe he shouldn’t consider dating Phil at all. Their friendship is, after all, founded on Phil needing Dan for his photography project. Sure they have lots in common, but Phil has a whole other adult life outside of depressed, failing-law-school little Dan. And as much as Dan wants to believe Phil might actually like him beyond the circumstances of their friendship, he just very seriously doubts it. He might just be in this for the free model and the sex, now that they’ve evidently added that to the mix as well.

He’s thinking that this just reaffirms his reluctance to bring up the status of their relationship to Phil when his thoughts are derailed by Phil barrelling back into the room, hopping up onto the bed and immediately going to straddle Dan’s lap. “My mouth is minty fresh for you now,” he announces proudly.

Dan grins. “Just for me?”

Phil nods, mirroring the smile. “A little kiss?” he asks, holding his hand out and indicating a tiny amount with his fingers.

Rolling his eyes, Dan brings a hand up to massage at Phil’s side. “Don’t you want me to go brush my teeth too?”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil shrugs carelessly. “I honestly don’t mind it, but if you want to, I’ll wait.”

Dan blinks up at him. Phil stares right back, not caving. After several moments pass in their weird staring contest, Dan shrugs. “Alright, come here, then.”

Phil goes eagerly, pressing his lips to Dan’s with an intensity and passion that Dan wasn’t prepared for considering how early it probably is. Processing the time is a mistake, apparently, because as soon as that part of Dan’s brain is functioning, so is the part that reminds him that today is a Wednesday, which means he has class.

Pulling away with a sharp gasp, Dan reaches frantically to the side, searching for his phone in a panic.

“Dan?” Phil asks, his voice concerned.

“My phone- what time is it?” He asks, fumbling around on his- well, Phil’s- nightstand.

Phil shuffles off his lap, giving Dan space to sit up and finally grab his phone. He presses the power button and feels a fresh surge of panic realizing he’s only got half an hour, at best, to get up, change, and make it halfway across town back to campus for his nine o’clock property law lecture.

“I’m so late, fuck, I’m so fucked, god-” Dan rants, climbing out of bed and searching for clothes; his, Phil’s, right now he doesn’t care, he just needs to be dressed and out this door like now. “Fuck! Where are my- jeans, I need jeans. Did I wear jeans? What am I- pajamas, fuck,” Dan’s mumbling to himself under his breath.

“Dan?” Phil asks from where Dan left him on the bed. When Dan glances at him, he looks a little hurt. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, fuck, sorry, Phil. I’ve got class, and I really shouldn’t skip it, but later? We can-” he forces himself to stop there with the reminder that the ball is in Phil’s court right now. Dan clears his throat, glancing away. “Just let me know when you want to work on the photo series again, and we can sort out a time, yeah?”

“Er… Sure, okay,” Phil says slowly, like he doesn’t quite get it. “I think your clothes are still in my washer,” he says, his voice apologetic. “I forgot to switch the load out last night when we… er…” He trails off, and when Dan glances at him, his face is dusted with pink. It’s beautiful- he’s beautiful.

Dan shrugs the thought away. He makes the split-second decision to ignore what transpired the night before, at least until Phil confirms that the feelings Dan’s got are mutual. “Do you think I could borrow something of yours?” he asks, timid.

Phil smiles, a soft twitch of his lips, before nodding and moving to the dresser. “I’ll find you some jeans, but you can pick whatever from my closet,” he instructs, waving Dan towards the open closet door. Dan vaguely remembers whispering complaints to Phil about it the night before, whining about how creepy it was to sleep with the closet door open. Phil had ignored him, obviously.

After barely a minute of searching, Dan pulls out a sort of atrocious sweater, mostly black but with some purple and orange stripes that reminds him vaguely of the nineties. He doesn’t think before he shrugs out of his borrowed shirt, tugging the sweater over his head in its place. By the time he turns around, Phil’s stood there gazing at him with something adoring in his eyes.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out a pair of black jeans. “They’re ripped, just like you like them,” he teases.

Dan grins at him as he pushes his borrowed sweatpants off his legs. “Thanks, mate,” he replies. He tugs the jeans on, surprised that they fit him. Phil gives him a strange look when Dan makes a surprised noise and Dan shrugs. “Your ass is bigger than mine, so I’m just surprised these actually fit me. Flat ass problems,” he says, grinning at the way Phil blushes.

“I- you- I do not,” Phil argues pathetically. “My ass is-”

“Perfect,” Dan grins, unable to help himself, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Phil’s waist. He kisses him deeply, convincing himself he’s got the time to do so. He doesn’t, not really.

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles against his mouth.

“‘S true,” Dan argues. “You’ve got a great ass. Mine isn’t nearly as mouth-watering as yours.” He’s taking the piss, a little, but mostly to cover the fact that he’s had many a wet dream about that plump ass on those long legs of Phil’s.

“Your… Yours is… perfectly adequate, Daniel,” Phil argues between kisses.

“Mhm,” Dan mumbles, not even listening. He swipes his tongue across Phil’s lips before forcing himself to step away. “I really need to go.” He can’t keep the guilt out of his voice.

Phil’s face drops, and Dan nearly cries at how disappointed he looks. “Yeah… Okay. I’ll text you later?” He sounds unsure.

Dan nods hurriedly, almost to spite the voice that’s telling him to shut up and not jeopardize their friendship. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later?”

Phil nods. “Alright.” He walks Dan to the door, where he pulls on his shoes hurriedly. Just before Dan turns to leave, Phil darts forward and kisses him again. “Be safe. Learn something new!”

“Alright, Dad,” Dan jokes, rolling his eyes. Phil’s nose crinkles adorably at the endearment. “Bye, Phil.”

“Bye, Dan,” Phil echoes, holding the door as Dan leaves.

Dan doesn’t hear it close until he’s at the end of the hall.

~~~

There’s a subtle shift in Dan’s life after that, or at least the part of his life that’s intertwined with Phil’s. It’s not so obvious at first, just hanging out a bit more often without the constant excuse of Phil’s photo series hanging over their heads.

And then, of course, there’s the sex. That’s rather new, Dan thinks to himself as he goes to let Phil into the flat he shares with three other blokes. They’re busy, out-going types, which is something that Dan is super disgusted by and can in no way relate to. But their frequent absence does have its perks, like now, when Phil wanted to see him and wanted to get out of his own flat. Up until now Dan hasn’t invited him over due to his roommates, but upon Phil’s insistence, he’d caved.

“Hi,” Dan greets when he opens up the front door.

Phil grins, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Hello there,” he says happily. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, which Dan notices as Phil steps past him and further into the flat. “Will there be a grand tour?” He asks with a joking tone.

Dan snorts. He waves Phil ahead of him, into the lounge, which connects to a kitchen. There’s a hallway that cuts between the two common areas, and each of the four bedrooms, plus the shared bathroom, are that way. “This is it,” Dan says with a vague gesture around the room.

Phil takes it all in, as if there’s actually anything to see. “It’s cozy,” he says mildly.

He’s not sure if it’s just the sort of weird mood he’s been in or if that actually bothers Dan, but either way, he frowns. “I mean, I told you it wasn’t much, I don’t know what you expected.” He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but the tone flavors his words without his permission.

There’s a quirk to Phil’s left eyebrow when he looks at Dan. He definitely picked up on Dan’s attitude. “It just doesn’t look like you,” Phil says with a shrug. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Dan.”

Dan nods, looking away. He doesn’t want to fight with him. “RIght.” He nods to the hall. “Bedroom’s this way.”

He’s fully expecting a joke, so when it doesn’t come, he tenses. Something angry and red is poking at his anxiety demon, causing it to stir. He hates that feeling, he really, really does. Trying not to show it, he leads Phil into his room and promptly goes to sit on the bed, leaning back and watching as Phil surveys the new space. If Dan thought he was being observant in the lounge, his attention to detail in this room is tenfold. He studies every poster, every trinket, every key on Dan’s keyboard, as he slowly moves around the room.

They don’t speak for what feels like hours, but eventually, Phil drops his backpack on the floor by the bed and settles in front of Dan with a smile. “This is better,” he announces in a pleased voice.

Dan blinks at him. “What is?” He asks dumbly.

Phil reaches out and tucks his pinky underneath the rip of Dan’s jeans, stroking the skin there softly. “This room. It’s more you.”

“You think?” Dan asks, tilting his head as he considers it.

Phil nods with a smile. “It is, yeah. It’s full of little Dan things. I like it a lot.”

Dan tries, very hard, not to let that go to his head. “Thanks,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

There’s another silence as Phil tucks two more fingers into the rip of Dan’s jeans. It’s not really any sort of sexual searching, just patient, calming touches that go straight to Dan’s heart. Dan’s staring at his leg and Phil’s staring at him, always watching him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Without a word, Phil pulls his hand away and kicks his shoes off, crawling up the bed to curl himself around Dan’s side. He hums a questioning noise, and Dan just nods mutely, allowing himself to be maneuvered into a cuddle. Dan can breathe easier then, avoiding Phil’s eyes but feeling the comfort of his body wrapped around Dan’s. There’s a warm kiss pressed to the spot just behind Dan’s ear and he lets out a breath.

“How about a nap?” Phil asks on a whisper.

“Are you staying the night?” Dan asks, glancing over at Phil’s backpack.

“I was going to, but if you’d rather I didn’t-” Phil begins.

Dan interrupts him with a shake of his head. “I want you to stay,” he says, voice small. He rolls over in Phil’s arms so they’re facing each other, clutching the front of Phil’s shirt in his hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Dan apologizes.

Phil smiles, ducking forward and pressing a soft kiss to Dan’s lips. “It’s alright,” he whispers when he pulls away. He lifts a hand to Dan’s hair, stroking the chocolate waves gently. “Do you actually wanna nap?”

Dan shrugs, feeling a flush on his cheeks at what he thinks is the sound of a suggestion. “I’m not really in the mood for like, sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

There’s a look of panicked surprise on Phil’s face at this, and he’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, like, we can watch a movie? If you want to do that instead of sleep.”

Chewing his lip, Dan considers this. “I probably won’t be paying a whole lot of attention,” he admits, almost ashamed of his lack of attention span.

Phil smiles. “That’s alright.” He sits up and reaches for his backpack, pulling his laptop out and setting it on the bed. Before opening it, he turns to Dan with a quirked brow. “Are we going anywhere tonight?” he asks.

Dan shakes his head with a snort. “I’m not,” he says, disgusted at the very idea of leaving his warm bed.

“Good,” Phil says with a grin. He stands, immediately tugging his jeans down his legs. Dan isn’t sure if he’s meant to look away, but he doesn’t. He isn’t even particularly interested in a sexual sense, he’s just curious about how Phil looks when he’s getting undressed for bed. Phil looks up at him after tossing his jeans to the floor, and he has a light dusting of pink across his cheekbones when he sees Dan watching. “Quit looking at me,” he whines, climbing back into bed.

Dan turns his head pointedly to stare at Phil. “You’re nice to look at,” he says with a shrug.

Phil rolls his eyes. “You should take yours off too,” he says, poking Dan’s side.

Pulling the cover up, Dan gestures to his sweatpant-clad legs. “I’m already in my pjs, bub.”

“I know that,” Phil says with a sneaky little smirk as he opens his laptop and goes to Netflix. “But I think we ought to match.”

Dan huffs. “What if I get cold, huh?” He asks, quite theoretically, considering his body temperature almost always runs high.

Phil kisses his cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, baby,” he says sweetly.

Dan, embarrassingly, blushes at that. They still hadn’t defined this… whatever it was, so for now Dan only knew that he was quickly catching feelings for Phil. That was dangerous enough without the complication of their involvement for Phil’s photography project, so Dan’s decided that the easiest way to handle this is to ignore it. They can be friends, they can have casual sex, but he can’t even consider what would happen if those feelings turned into something more. His friendship with Phil had become one of the most important parts of his life, and he’d be beyond devastated if he did something, intentional or not, to jeopardize that.

Instead of acting on his instinct to move closer, emotionally and physically, Dan snorts, covering up the racing of his heart. “Shut up,” he says, struggling to keep the fond out of his voice. “Can we watch Avengers?” he asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Phil smiles at him. He types for a moment before turning the screen around, where, sure enough, he’s pulled up the first Avengers movie. He fiddles with the settings on the volume and screen size for a moment before pressing play, snuggling back on the bed. He very unsubtly moves his arm to wrap it around Dan’s shoulders, ignoring Dan’s faux-annoyed huff at the cliche gesture.

“Are you hungry?” Phil asks him in a quiet voice only a few minutes into the film. “I may have brought some popcorn with me,” he admits, shameless.

Dan can’t help but roll his eyes. “Did you bring the kind I like?” he asks, mostly kidding. He’d only mentioned it once or twice, that a certain brand of popcorn tasted better to him, but ever since then he’s noticed that particular brand taking up more space in Phil’s cupboards.

To his surprise, Phil nods. “I did. I even brought that candy you like to pour into the popcorn.”

Hiding a pleased smile against Phil’s chest, Dan huffs. “Will you make the popcorn if I get the drinks sorted?”

Phil kisses his forehead. The gesture warms Dan’s entire face. “Sure,” Phil says easily. He goes to climb out of the bed, then stops suddenly, staring down at his bare legs. “Would your roommates be particularly offended by a half-naked man in your kitchen?” He sounds only partially concerned.

Dan grins, pulling Phil towards the door. “They’ll get over it if they are.”

~~~

They don’t have sex that time. Looking back on it, Dan thinks that’s an important thing to remember about the first time he invited Phil into his home. Whether it was because he could just tell that Dan was having a bad day, or maybe just not in the mood himself, Phil doesn’t initiate anything sexual, not even when they’re curled around each other watching stupid YouTube videos at two in the morning. Instead, he just holds Dan, and allows him to be.

Dan thinks about that a lot, later, after everything falls apart.

~~~

#phanfiction #phanfic #photographer!phil #student!dan #model!dan (sort of)#friends to lovers #best friends #miscommunication #angst #fluff #smut #break up #getting back together #photography fic #take a picture (it'll last longer)#tapill #part 1

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punkscowardschampions · 1 year

Text

Janis & Casey Pt.3

Janis: You said you’d not be a bellend today, think on that

Casey: and I’ve not been, nothing wrong with not being keen for you to piss about as long as you like when I’m waiting

Janis: Nah, you’ve not made me feel like shit or nothing 🙄

Casey: What

Janis: just stop banging on and leave me to it now

Casey: or tell us what

Janis: I don’t know, maybe telling someone they’re wasting their one life feeling what they feel isn’t the move but you know

Janis: if that’s what you want to do with yours, go ahead

Casey: I wasn’t talking about you

Janis: Call it what you want

Casey: my dad, Jim, dickheads like that, who I meant

Janis: Jim and me have it in common, that’s why we’re together, why it works

Casey: you and him have fuck all in common

Janis: We do though

Casey: you don’t though

Janis: we both reckon no amount of memories mean fuck all, that’s one

Casey: he’s a miserable bastard, you’re not

Janis: Ha, no?

Janis: You accuse me of doing a lot of fucking sulking for someone who ain’t

Casey: you ain’t doing much of it whenever I see you for someone you reckon is

Janis: Maybe I’m putting on a brave face for you, like I do with Bobby and Libi

Casey: you can fuck off saying that

Casey: nah, you don’t wallow in it or make a martyr of yourself to it, there’s the difference

Janis: You want there to be a difference, that’s all

Casey: there is, don’t matter what I want

Janis: People like your dad and Jim and whoever else are the people who pick up the pieces when people like your mum and my sister live their life exactly how they want

Janis: that’s the truth, I’m not going to sit here and glorify it

Casey: sit there and talk shit then

Casey: my dad lived his life exactly how he fucking fancied an’ all, he still is and he don’t pick up sod all, I do

Casey: Jim’s going about his days exactly how suits him, pissing about with you or bitching and moaning about how hard it is when he ain’t, that’s the truth

Janis: You should take it, it’s the only topic and time I feel a shred of sympathy for Ian

Janis: just raising the kid that’s left behind and missing out on any childhood of your own, yeah, you’re all living your best lives with it

Casey: like fuck will I, you never met my mum and he don’t say a word about her for you to know owt 2nd hand neither

Janis: Easy to be a fun-loving free spirit when you’re not around to clean up your fucking messes

Casey: shut up

Janis: there we go, my point exactly

Casey: how she hacked being round and what she done til she couldn’t is fuck all to do with you, weren’t you who had to cope with none of it

Janis: And she’s a hero for, what?

Janis: The rest of you are still there coping, get a fucking grip

Casey: she ain’t, nor’s your boyfriend so stop fucking patting him on the back while you’re at it, like

Janis: He doesn’t think he is, and he doesn’t hero worship either of your fucked up parents whilst he’s at it

Janis: none of them are special, just because they’re dead

Casey: and he’s not special ‘cause you fancy him

Janis: Where’d I say he was?

Casey: read back what you said, I can’t

Janis: I know how I feel about him and it’s not all magical thinking and bullshit

Casey: good for you

Janis: you better go

Casey: ahead of you there, mate

Janis: let's knock that on the head whilst we’re at it

Casey: knock yourself out

Janis: None of this makes any sense so

Casey: you weren’t bothered by that before, never has done

Janis: if anything, you’ve helped me realise

Janis: I don’t need anyone

Casey: you’re welcome for the head unfuck, chuffed for you

Janis: You aren’t but you are under no obligation to be now

Casey: tah, well big of you

Janis: you aren’t the hard done by brother

Casey: 👋 then

Janis: bye

Casey: [leave it sir, and go back home or wherever you’re going but we all know it isn’t to meet that random girl because in no mood now, soz you’re getting ghosted hun x]

Janis: [so sorry ma’am except we’re not at all even thinking about you my love, it’s the way Bobby and Jimmy will be back unless he can talk her down off this ledge because imagine the awkward vibe of staying and she’s not there lol]

Casey: [what fun, it really snowballed from the little outing y’all had planned, well done as per lads]

Janis: [so sorry we got triggered and had no way to calmly explain that and let it go, appaz, you love to see it lol, lord knows how you’re going to talk after this when you inevitably return, whether that’s tonight ‘cos Jimothy calms you or whenever]

Casey: [yeah, it depends if we wanna say he was able to talk her off the ledge or we’re feeling a run away moment but either way jc clearly aren’t gonna be matey for a sec here lol]

Janis: [hmm, perhaps we should do some JJ from the back of this convo? We could just decide though, I’m sure whatever we could say we could make happen retroactively, not worried if not]

Casey: [I can try, I’ve only done depressed era Jimothy for a while so idk how good it’ll be and if I’ll flop though]

Janis: [up to you my boo, if you don’t think you’re doing well, we’ve got this and we’ll just decide and continue with JC because at some point she’ll have to talk to him again, it’s easy enough lol]

Casey: [I’m frighten]

Janis: [let’s just say he could talk her down because he’d agree with her obviously so I can see it happening easily, still going to have to leave Casey alone for a minute unless he starts it if they social’d? ‘Cos clearly not left hun lol]

Casey: [let’s say he reacts to said socials, be it a like or a story reaction which we all know is shady actually like oh you’re still here then, cos he’d be unsurprised, obvs Jimothy agrees with her and can thus talk her round, he can see it coming, the only reason it was a possibility she might go from his POV is cos he thinks his brother is such a big flop and therefore might make things worse]

Janis: I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that, if your genuine reaction is 😂 then I’ll be alright with it but still

Casey: Can only react with what I’m given, they don’t do my proper one

Janis: figures

Casey: still ain’t the hard done by brother so

Janis: It were uncalled for, we both know that

Casey: no shit, mate

Casey: except I’m not to call you that no more, weren’t it

Janis: I mean, if anything should probably still stand, hardly a good one

Casey: yeah, not like it should be up to me to make up my own mind about or nothing

Janis: Obviously you can

Casey: tah very much, again well big of you

Janis: Alright, you pissed me off, I was trying to piss you off back

Casey: obviously, read you better than I can a book

Janis: So I look like a dick now, can you at least take some satisfaction in that?

Casey: what for

Casey: since when am I someone who’s buzzing to see you make a twat of yourself

Janis: I mean, it’d make me feel better about being a bitch but I get it, not owed it

Casey: how you tell it, you love being a bitch

Casey: crack on taking your own satisfaction from having no mates how you reckon you want

Janis: It’s necessary, most the time, I don’t remember saying I relish it

Janis: as long as you read the situation how it was, not what was said, that’s what I came to make sure

Casey: it’s bollocks

Casey: but you heard, I get it

Janis: I can’t hack caring about more people than I do, call it pathetic, call it what you want, it’s true

Casey: I know

Janis: but I can’t help who I do, and you are one of them, however weird that is

Casey: same, even when you’re being a dickhead calling it weird

Janis: It’s weird to me, he might’ve had a girlfriend before me but I haven’t done this loads, alright

Casey: if it’s a competition, I’ve done this never, I win

Janis: You know what I mean, you aren’t Bobby’s age, it makes it more confusing but it’s still true and happening, I give a shit

Casey: yeah

Janis: I’m sorry for it

Casey: fuck that, I’m not having your sorry for it

Janis: I meant for, I don’t know

Janis: not being nicer, better at it

Casey: I’m not sorry, we wouldn’t be mates if you was nicer

Janis: You’re nice

Janis: even though it’s a shit word

Casey: I’m loads of shit words but that one’s nowhere on the list

Janis: I might have skewed standards if I’m using myself as the base level but still

Casey: you’ve no standards in mates or lads, we’ve talked about both before now enough times

Janis: alright, true enough we have

Casey: be ‘cause you’ve no dad neither, as we’ve talked about an’ all

Janis: Sure, I’d be focused on my studies and on my way to Trinity if I had

Casey: probably

Janis: were never on the cards so we’ll never know

Casey: you’ll live without them posh dickheads

Janis: my cousin still probably be there, can’t be seeing him that often, have me spiralling right back into my bad choices

Casey: and I can’t never have a look at you making no good choices, do my head right in that would

Janis: you’re keeping me ‘round to make yourself feel better about your own? That’s very nice, that

Casey: I’m keeping you round in the hopes one day you might make 1 decent choice, ‘cause I care about you too

Janis: I’ll do my best but clearly my track record ain’t to be discussed

Casey: all piss poor, no discussion needed

Janis: to think I ever called you charming

Casey: so long ago I’ve forgot you had done

Janis: Mm, be why I started being a bitch again 😏

Casey: my money were on the lass bleeding, but alright

Janis: why blame nature when I could subtly blame you

Casey: hang on, that was you being subtle

Casey: fucking hell, well done

Janis: piss off, I’m an incredible actress, you aren’t surprised at my skills

Casey: when

Casey: oh right, I get when you’re getting at, what you and him do behind closed doors is up to you

Janis: Um NOT when I was getting at, never mind, boy

Casey: loads of lasses fake it, what I’ve heard

Casey: you’re not the 1st or gonna be the last

Janis: and I’m sure it’s dead obvious if you aren’t hiding from getting your feelings hurt 🙄

Janis: no one is slinging my sister an Oscar any time soon

Casey: you’re not your sister, go after an oscar all you like

Janis: I’m sure you don’t want reminding that you know I don’t need to

Janis: 🤫 for your own sake

Casey: don’t bother neither of you usually

Janis: Were an accident and you don’t have to put up with it no more, yeah, another pro for the list I suppose

Casey: call it what you want, girl

Janis: normal person’d act like they hadn’t heard nothing to save from this awkward convo, you know

Casey: soz I didn’t have no accident to leave us deaf, your own advice about shutting the fuck up for your own sake’s right there

Janis: It’s alright, I was going to hell long before I thought how handy the whole deafness is for me

Janis: landslide down at this point

Casey: alright for you

Janis: changing the subject, I hear you

Janis: did you go on your date yet?

Casey: Change it again

Janis: Oh

Janis: hmm, that was my main in, beyond asking if you wanted to split the dog walking in half if you didn’t wanna see us

Casey: in a bit then as you’ve nothing to say else

Janis: Hey, come on

Casey: go and piss about with him and his 📷 some more

Janis: I want to talk to you

Janis: I figured on it being more of an uphill battle, that’s all

Casey: you’ve already made it sound like I’m well hard to care about with your sorry and that, no need to add a climbing comparison in

Janis: Sorry it’s ME caring about you

Janis: and not some Mary Poppins type, not sorry it’s YOU, idiot

Casey: I don’t need a babysitter, YOU idiot

Janis: I know that

Casey: what you saying it like that for if you know

Janis: replace her with a really good friend then, I don’t even know any examples, for fuck’s sake

Casey: you’re an example when you calm yourself down

Janis: I’ve stood you up twice

Casey: and what

Casey: who cares, I’ve stood you up before too, other day even when I overslept

Janis: I’m most devvo’d not to have finished the film, has to be said

Casey: there you go, somehow that were my fault, I dunno how but let’s say it was

Janis: You weren’t just sleepy that day

Janis: how is the nose job

Casey: 👍

Janis: what’s that meant to mean, boy

Casey: you asked how I look, the answer’s top

Janis: Make me sound like I’m loitering in a phonebox, why don’t you

Janis: 👍 though

Casey: I’d work on your chat a bit, it’s weak for starting all that as your next job

Janis: 🖕🤘

Casey: doing nowt but proving my point, really

Janis: not about to disprove it, am I

Janis: get arrested for that sort of thing

Casey: might be able to watch the end of the film, they love that sort of activity in prison

Janis: like I’d get a moments peace, looking like this

Janis: need my own face transplant

Casey: I’ll find Grace, hang on

Janis: 😂 Mean

Casey: what, couldn’t be nicer, dream come true for her, the swap

Janis: I think her whole head is bigger, literally not in my way

Janis: going to be really stretching it over that skull

Casey: I’ll do my best not to be too gutted when the bandages come off, make the best of a bad situation with her in the days and weeks and years after

Janis: here’s me thinking you cared about my sparkling personality

Casey: nah

Janis: knobhead

Casey: your shit personality, have a word with yourself

Janis: least I’ve got one

Casey: have to hope I can get her to shut up for her own sake, true

Janis: I think I’ll keep my face and deal with the lesbian sex crimes, you can go fuck yourself, mate

Casey: will do, you’ve given us something to think about and everything

Janis: 😆 enjoy

Casey: night, too busy to talk to you now

Janis: no need to act like it’ll take you that long, s’alright

Casey: I’ll keep going, house to myself there’s no reason not to

Janis: Fair, rude not to

Janis: where’s he?

Casey: out with a new one from work

Janis: cute

Casey: didn’t mess up his 💘 life with your kicking off

Janis: considered putting out a general warning to all middle-aged slags in the area but you know, take time to make the posters

Casey: Bob’s only the pair of hands and he has to use ‘em to chat too, in fairness

Janis: his ones of Ian are spot-on, would pick him out of a line-up, which is handy

Casey: I’ll stick to picking what I fancy on my pizza

Janis: knew the moment had passed, an excellent opportunity to talk about the lesbian line-up

Janis: you’ll have [whatever we know to be his fave] of course

Casey: unimaginative, I remember

Janis: good news and bad news

Janis: very popular genre, lesbian prison porn

Janis: the acting is worse than face/off

Casey: can always mute it, unlike you, mate

Janis: Aw, real women, eh, nightmares

Janis: 🤖💘 life

Casey: taking patronising off you by saying you’re hardly old enough to be called a woman don’t feel right, you’d have sod all lines left to chat to us again, for a start

Janis: I could ask you what sides you’re getting, if you’d like

Janis: I dunno when you started loving deep and meaningful convos

Casey: you’re alright, not very hungry

Janis: harsh, I didn’t say anything graphic

Casey: still, must be your 📷 PDA, like

Janis: you can mute me on there, like, that’s a plus

Casey: [do and send her a pic of it or whatever to show you have]

Janis: better?

Casey: I’m not suddenly starving, like magic, if that’s what you mean

Janis: 🥺 come on, fatty

Casey: what you lying for now

Janis: compared to me

Casey: you’re a girl, there’s no me vs you about it

Janis: convenient

Casey: piss off, ‘course I can eat and weigh more than you 💪

Janis: SO easy to wind up

Casey: lucky you’re SO easily pleased, convenient for him as well as

Janis: and you’re both reasonably fit, we can’t really pretend otherwise for anything but the pisstake

Casey: pisstake’s reasonably, dunno how you can chat that

Janis: you’d need a longer habit for me to totally write off your lungs, like

Casey: exactly, there’s sod all wrong with ‘em

Janis: I didn’t rate you out of 10 or make you do a beep test

Casey: wouldn’t worry me you did do

Janis: ⏱ for your next birthday then, sorted

Casey: that’s the best you’ve got and you’re gonna make us wait for it too, we can call it as far as being mates goes, yeah

Janis: wow, ungrateful much

Janis: very handy tool, have you know

Casey: be an app 👵🏽

Janis: and you can put your lips together and blow but you still liked that prezzie

Janis: have a list as long as Libi’s in a minute, cheek of it

Casey: you wasn’t teasing me with that one ages before

Casey: and I like a surprise

Janis: alright, alright, I’ll think on 😏

Casey: long as you don’t stand us up on my birthday, we’re going [idk what activity you’d wanna do for your bday at this age, laser quest or something like that]

Janis: I’m not that bad

Janis: current record don’t help but

Casey: set a record there instead, you’ll be on my team

Janis: obviously 👾👾👾

Janis: haven’t been there in forever

Casey: it’ll be good

Janis: it will 🤝

Janis: no messing about

Casey: okay 🤝

Janis: glad you’re alright

Janis: you’ll have to get back to that girl now, yeah, then nothings wrong

Casey: Forget her, I have done

Janis: alright, if you’re sure

Casey: can’t be bothered to talk her round from how gutted she’ll be I never showed when I weren’t that bothered by her in the 1st place

Janis: be alright, girls love something to cry about with their mates, get mileage out of that, a favour honestly

Casey: ‘course you’ve engineered it so you done me and her a massive favour 😏

Janis: oi, I was willing to be sorry for you but you’re not arsed so I can’t help that my services ain’t required

Janis: if I have to start weeping for every random girl though, you can fuck off

Casey: you’re busy with too much else to be keeping track of how many lasses are 💔 over us

Janis: exactly, not sorry

Casey: nor me

Janis: just two bastards, like

Casey: we’ve loads in common, you would pick that as what you’ll admit to

Janis: you pick the next one then

Casey: and you’d put me right on the spot an’ all

Janis: see, not that easy, boy

Casey: it is, I just don’t want to start down the road again or you’ll be off up it

Janis: sound like a headcase, fuck’s sake

Casey: yeah well

Janis: not a trap or invitation, I hear it

Casey: you who said something about sugarcoating being bollocks

Janis: and I stand by it

Casey: there you go then, were headcase behaviour

Janis: No money or will to chat to a real therapist so oh well, not my fault

Casey: no such thing as a real therapist anyway, they’re all full of it

Janis: guess the pricey ones dress up the flashcards and cups of tea, make it seem more legit

Casey: flashcards’ll be written on the coffee how Jim can do and your sister and her mates like

Janis: get your bad news with your caffeine

Casey: charge you for sorting anxiety they’ve chucked at you in a mug

Janis: 🙄🙄

Janis: not a disorder Gracie doesn’t think she has, like it isn’t just the consequences of how she’s living

Casey: and you’re on at me to give that lass a bell, nightmares the lot

Janis: that’s your type

Casey: What do you know

Janis: I know that girls who look like the girls you’re after are nightmares, obviously, they’re giving you every signal like a peacock or some shit

Casey: them ones are the lads, watch where you’re going with that

Janis: have seen drag queens in less slap but you know, just a reality you’ve got to deal with for your poor taste too

Casey: I dunno, never seen a drag queen, me

Janis: You’re so sheltered, baby

Casey: can’t all of us have mums who lez off half the time, that’s you

Janis: Not much to recommend it, not missing out on anything major

Casey: sleep like the baby you called us then, won’t I

Janis: after your pizza-fueled wank sesh, yeah, 👶

Casey: makes it sound pizza’s the turn on, but otherwise, yeah

Janis: you do you, no judgment here obvs, thanks ma

Casey: not much to recommend it, maybe should’ve gone for 🥧 same as in the film

Janis: apple’s different from steak and kidney, not sure what is worse though

Casey: I’ll do a poll for you, find out if I’m missing out on socials by not having ever done, seeing as you and your boyfriend are always at it

Janis: that sort of picture evidence will get you banned though, FYI

Casey: more lasses 💔

Janis: Idiot boy 😏

Janis: you’ll be surprised though, the unhinged weird shit people will say if you just ?

Janis: s’funny, that’s why we do

Casey: I didn’t ask why you and him do nowt

Janis: just saying

Casey: don’t need a hand with how to have a laugh

Janis: okay, don’t have mine off about it

Casey: head full of dogs, you

Janis: 🤑*

Casey: you’d not have stood me up for the [whatever the last name of that posh couple is] murder and robbery

Janis: Never

Janis: you might be a liability sometimes but who else is gonna help me

Casey: piss off, never been a liability even when I was 👶

Janis: weren’t there, I don’t know that

Casey: but you know I ain’t now, what you saying sometimes for

Janis: don’t want to get carried away, do we

Casey: you don’t

Janis: no, sure, you’d love it if I sat here and complimented you ‘til your head popped

Casey: no shit, girl, who wouldn’t

Janis: some people are humble and would be embarrassed, allegedly

Casey: nah, only if the lass isn’t fit but we’re on about you here

Janis: an alright line, well done

Casey: oi, what line, you’d be more than cringing hearing [some poor boy we are dragging from school] chat to you like he’s fit enough to and he’d need having a word with, proper awkward all that

Casey: compliments are near foreplay, them lot should keep it between themselves, ugly to ugly and weird to weird

Janis: 😬😬😬

Janis: s’why sports science is an absolute minefield, outnumbered and then some

Casey: you’re alright, whole school going for it you’d still be able to sort ‘em all out on your own

Janis: not hard, you only have to deal with them calling you frigid when they’re in a mood you told them to fuck off

Casey: they’re in a mood ‘cause they’d have no chance opposite way round neither

Janis: exactly, gotta have shocking self-esteem to fall for that trick and be begging to prove them wrong

Casey: and you wouldn’t lose none of yours caught out and left mid Face/Off operation

Janis: 😌 tah, still keep away from me with a scalpel

Casey: love the threat of a good time with none of the follow through, you

Janis: 😤 YOU love to wind me up so I can’t

Janis: yeah, upgraded to entirely your fault now, mate

Casey: don’t sound like me

Janis: 🤔 oh, wrong chat, soz

Casey: be standing me up on here next, leaving us unread

Janis: never say never, if you’re chatting loads of shit, maybe

Casey: stop typing in the wrong chat, dickhead

Janis: Just trying to find loads of new mates, the juggle is real

Casey: Might teach you, ask me nice

Casey: pissed about doing it in summer when I was younger ‘cause dad were working and he chucked us into some bollocks activities

Janis: Sounds hellish, but I bet you ended up loving it

Casey: loads of mates from it

Janis: least you ended up with people to kick about with, it was more important when I was younger an’ all

Casey: What you really up to

Janis: what did I say I was fake up to?

Casey: stalking, I dunno

Janis: ohh, right, the obvious bullshit about reaching out to every twat in town

Janis: nah, nothing really, just at home

Casey: end of the film’s waiting for you, why not watch it

Janis: be missing out on your commentary but s’a good shout

Janis: they’re doing something with the animals, last I saw so

Janis: no accidental scarring them with the face/off of it all

Casey: only [however long they had left] til credits

Janis: thanks, only had a vague memory of [a scene roughly where y’all were] before I wanted to pour tea over your head

Casey: there you go again with your threats, do nothing of the sort though

Janis: you would call that as a good time, Yorkshire tea waterboarding

Casey: I get it, ‘course you’re too shit scared to start owt with me, losing’d do your head in

Janis: 😂 not scared of you or something that’d never happen, mate

Casey: 👌 mate

Janis: if you’re trying to tell me stories, I’ll pause the film again, like

Casey: you crack on, pizza’s here

Janis: 👌👌 [with a pic of whatever screen you are watching this on rn]

Casey: [a pic of you buzzing with your pizza which is just an excuse to send her a selfie lol]

Janis: jealous

Janis: gonna have to get snacks now

Casey: I’d send one to yours but film’ll have been over ages before moped turns up

Janis: 🙄 tell us about it, have to plan well far ahead

Janis: still think we could leave Ro and her kids here and move us back into the flat over the shops

Casey: 🍕💔

Casey: be a right struggle to eat this now

Janis: 😩😩😩😩 bastard

Casey: wishing you were here’s gone less one sided all of a sudden

Janis: you caught me 🍕💘

Casey: [a pisstakey kind of zoom in slow mo vid of this pizza like she’ll be hearteyes lol, just having fun being a nerd don’t mind him]

Janis: should upload that 🤤😍

Janis: keep you busy and stop you torturing me whilst I find some bullshit in the cupboards

Casey: [do, because one thing about this boy, he does everything she says, we can pretend it’s bants but we all know, probably putting that song he identified as her fave to be playing as well, even if she’s already got a new fave now, for the mems]

Janis: [when you can react to it accordingly for a perfect full circle moment here, well done jemily]

Casey: [LOVE that and we all know he’s unblocked her like a sec after he blocked her so he’ll see it, idk if there are like face/off memes but there will be defs be some about those lads Nick and John you can add to your story to make her laugh]

Janis: [there undoubtedly are, have a little back and forth of shitposting about it, casually because you are friends again and the beef has been squashed for now honeys]

Janis: the 😂 is genuine this time, so you know

Casey: What I always want to hear, that

Janis: welcome 🤡

Casey: oi

Janis: you’d look lovely with a red nose, it’s a compliment

Casey: give it some years and some [whatever gross drink is Ian’s drink of choice]

Janis: eurgh, no thanks

Janis: can’t be reasonably fit when your liver is dead

Casey: have to keep on with it pissing blood sometimes instead

Janis: is there anything you can do for that?

Casey: duck more often, like

Janis: preventative not cure

Casey: you’ve already cured me

Janis: the fact you were pissing blood somehow didn’t come up then

Casey: steady on, I’m talking about your red nose compliment, what are you

Janis: Jesus, don’t scare me like that

Janis: I read that wrong, as you were

Casey: I’d have put you off coming round harder, that were going on, be a proper no tah

Janis: not info you can just drop after, no

Janis: got my heart racing harder than this final fight scene rn

Casey: no real challenge but

Casey: I’m good, don’t worry

Janis: good

Janis: don’t diss it though, thoroughly entertained right now

Casey: soz, you keep your eyes on the telly screen, fuck your phone

Casey: I’ll shut up

Janis: Been waiting the whole time I’ve known you to hear that

Casey: [don’t reply cos you’re shhing but cos you can’t shh send her another selfie where your face is so OTT offended and oi vibes that she said that, even though he’s probs got his hand over his mouth or something like that to be extra so it’s just his eyes and brow really giving]

Janis: Oh, you’ve made me feel bad now, poor boy

Casey: 🍕💔 of my own

Casey: finish watching before it’s all gone cold

Janis: [do finish this film, liveblogging on your insta as much as you can about this film because likewise can’t really shh about it]

Janis: 🎬

Casey: Go on, rate it out of 10

Janis: [do a silly nerd review I cannot because not even seen it but you know the vibes]

Casey: [likewise add your own comments in because I have seen it but years ago and I cannot remember]

Janis: Go on, how many slices have you had

Casey: [do it like a fraction because of getting her to rate out of 10 before so however many of however many slices you had total, we know what I mean, gonna say this is a large pizza and he’s had like half to ¾ of it, seems legit but I cannot do the maths on how many that would be sis]

Janis: 🐷💘🍕 love story, 10/10

Casey: go on, show us the signs for all them, need practice you’ve said

Janis: [give it your best shot baby but say you deffo get one wrong, whichever one that may be, I imagine love and pig are probably easier than pizza so go with that]

Casey: [she’d deffo know love because JJ would have signed ILY to each other by now, but thinking about the other 2 logically, you might have more reason to know pizza if it’s a food Bobby likes than pig, because when are y’all using that in daily life unless maybe you have as a insult lol, either way, help her with whatever one she doesn’t know]

Janis: Did I make a faux pas and sign something really offensive instead though? Can’t be known as an ableist

Casey: nah, know where I am if you fancy it though

Casey: [show her something offensive that’s nearest to what she did when she tried to do whichever of them that came out wrong, like there you go, god knows because idk sign language]

Janis: 😅 remind me that one isn’t for the kid

Janis: [try it back so he can check you, obviously]

Casey: [love this little lesson we’re having, show her some more offensive stuff just cos it’s fun like lol btw those definitely aren’t for Bobby either]

Janis: never knew I were missing so many ways to call you a dickhead, really did need this

Casey: sort of mate I am, might be you needed reminding there too

Janis: A good one, never said otherwise, whatever else I did

Casey: Weren’t me your massive strop had a go at mostly, to be fair

Janis: can we call them arguments, instead of massive strops

Casey: what for

Janis: so I don’t die inside every time you say it

Casey: bit dramatic, but alright

Janis: plus it really halves the blame which this time is a win for me 😈

Casey: such a lass when we’ve had arguments

Janis: no, I wouldn’t say you were, don’t be hard on yourself

Casey: wouldn’t say you’re funny

Janis: 🤏

Casey: 🤐

Janis: 😶

Casey: go on then

Janis: [clearly giving you that selfie back]

Casey: a win for me

Janis: [sign whatever rude is because gotta redeem your flop because clearly you’re trying]

Casey: yeah it is, you looking like that

Janis: my face swap surgery got cancelled, give me a break

Casey: be a dead dramatic car chase scene of me on my way to put a stop to it if it were meant to be going ahead

Janis: how I know you care

Casey: nothing on worth watching over here, might as well

Janis: Gutted he’s got his car, right

Janis: love to let him know I weren’t the one joyriding it this time

Casey: pisstake caring over the phone, feel like one of your online fans

Janis: you’re like a VIP though 😘

Janis: don’t reply to just anyone

Casey: tah very much

Janis: you wanna go to the gym tomorrow at [a time that’d make sense whatever day it is]

Casey: Yeah

Janis: I’ll meet you there so there’s no chance I can stand you up

Casey: I’ll come looking if it’s [literally 5 minutes after whatever time she said because he’s in an extra mood about this given that there’s no way he didn’t get an immediate erection as soon as he saw her selfie]

Janis: I’ll get there [like half an hour before because we mean it and do need to prove that without having another strop at this point but also we’re extra lbr]

Casey: [when you’re dying about that, a note that purely for us that he’s touching himself here now because she wants to see him so badly she’s gonna be early and he’s not okay about it]

Casey: no chance you can stand us up

Janis: [oh lads, the level of cockblock you’re facing, got to enjoy this ridiculous tension limbo forever at this point, you are welcome/not soz]

Janis: none

Casey: none I’ll be a bastard then

Janis: 🏋️‍♂️🥊🤼‍♂️ if you get the urge

Casey: I’ve already got it, never goes away

Janis: I know

Janis: be why they have 24hr ones, like church and mcdonalds

Casey: challenge accepted, I could go for 24 hours

Janis: Do you think they’d kick us out at [whatever your nearest 24hr gym is] if we really put that to the test?

Casey: might try

Janis: be a laugh to

Casey: have to ban me to get rid, off nowhere til I’ve done the challenge

Janis: how long am I giving you ‘til you drop 💀? Hmm

Casey: how long you giving us to prove myself, more like

Janis: going to have to come up with some rules, make it a proper competition and test, like

Casey: ‘course, we need to do it proper

Janis: I’ll keep thinking about it

Casey: me too

Janis: Can already feel the high

Casey: same

Janis: I think I might do the marathon next year, apparently there’s nothing like it

Janis: pushing yourself past the limit over and over like that

Casey: let’s do it together

Janis: have to look if they let under 18s, I have no clue but definitely

Janis: won’t need to drag you along, like you said before

Casey: meet you at the starting line soon as we both can

Janis: 😁

Janis: at least you’ll know where I’m running, no one can be mad

Casey: yeah, beside me to [wherever your local marathon route approx goes even if he’s guessing rn and is wrong cos he’s a bit busy to google it soz everyone]

Janis: we could do it now, if they’d let us 😒

Casey: we could do it unofficial, give a shit about the medal, long as we have the way we’re meant to go

Janis: that’s true… who’s stopping us? No one

Casey: nobody, I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine, all we need

Janis: standard

Janis: I wanna, my legs ache, being still right now

Casey: don’t be, you need to fucking move

Janis: I don’t know what to do with this energy

Casey: you’ll think of something, you can’t hack being this pent up

Janis: it’s always like this, when I don’t go, can’t

Janis: it feels worse somehow

Casey: holding back feels like shit, why I can’t

Janis: I wish I could be like that, all the way, not making the compromises I have to

Casey: who’s about to stop you right now, do it

Janis: I told you, not loads of people but enough, too many, depending how I’m feeling

Janis: and you’re one of them

Casey: I won’t tell none of the rest if you have a go at it, just this once

Janis: yeah? Keep my secret, like

Casey: what best mates are for

Janis: was that an upgrade

Casey: reckon you’ve earnt one, and my best, like

Janis: give a shit about a medal is right, wow

Casey: better high off us, guaranteed

Janis: you know you’re my only mate, still, s’no competition

Casey: you’d rather keep me and have there be none, what I know

Janis: You get it, like barely anyone else can

Casey: I get you

Casey: we get each other

Janis: Yeah

Janis: it scares me, just a bit

Casey: a bit is okay

Janis: we’re better than that, it’s good

Casey: so good

Janis: I’m sorry, for the shit I said, not turning up, it makes me feel sick now

Casey: I don’t want you feeling like that now

Casey: or ever

Janis: I have to try not reverting back, going on the attack so I don’t have to defend

Casey: you are trying

Janis: I am, for now

Casey: it’s now what matters, anything could happen tomorrow or the day after, we’ve both been there when it has and don’t need telling

Janis: yeah

Janis: people still keep score, all the fuck ups and lapses

Casey: fuck those dickheads, you’ve a clean slate with me

Casey: I’m not bothered how many times I’ve to chuck you one either, it’s hard, you’re trying, I don’t care about owt else

Janis: I’ll always give you the same, swear

Casey: it tends to just be bollocks said nobody means, but it ain’t with you

Janis: hold us to it, not saying I won’t have nothing to say or whatever if you’re a bellend but at the end of it, we can start over

Casey: all I want’s a bit of effort put back in, to go with mine, shouldn’t be loads to ask but it has been before this, with every twat else

Janis: don’t start me on how shit and disappointing most people are, been there, had the rant

Casey: yeah, and I get that an’ all, going about how I hack it different don’t mean I don’t

Janis: I know you do, you’ve just got a 🤏 more faith left than me, not a bad thing

Casey: it’s good, if I had none in you we’d not be mates no more after your massive strop, or our argument, whatever you fancy calling it

Janis: 😏 you can have it

Casey: you can’t stop me believing what I do about you so

Janis: we’ve established I can give it a good go but

Casey: but it won’t get you nowhere, might as well give it up and let us win

Janis: putting it like that is NOT gonna help your case, is it

Casey: could be named for arguing, me, all we know, with what you’ve wrote there

Janis: I see it more than I see him consulting a baby name’s book

Casey: that or it’s some lad she wished she’d gone out with instead of him, since I were her fave

Janis: I’m not paying to have that psychoanalyzed, so I hope not, for your sake

Casey: worse they could lock me up in the loony bin for, I set foot in one of them dickhead’s offices

Janis: I know the feeling

Casey: told you we’ve loads in common

Janis: having shit in our heads that could get us locked up isn’t a win for either of us but fuck it, breaking even

Casey: the fact it’s there though, for us both

Casey: it’s not something I’d had with somebody, my other mates are all saner, even the ones with 🤏 shit in their heads

Janis: a lot of people have divorced parents, or one that’s a bit of a cunt, isn’t usually the level of the shit that’s gone down for either of us

Janis: unless they’re hiding it, possible but where’s the fun in that, everyone knows my business

Casey: I stand by what I told you about having them about, but you’re my only mate who don’t make us feel like I’m theirs for a laugh. ‘cause my head’s fucked and they’ve no clue what I’ll be up to 🤡

Casey: maybe I’ll chuck a desk at Lucas and be their top mate 1 week, but might be I’ll have a go in a way has them looking at me how I can’t hack the other

Janis: s’alright, we’ve established you’re the healthier/more normal one for doing it

Janis: I just can’t hack it ever, being there for entertainment

Janis: but look, Rih made a whole career out of it, so, you could do alright from it as well

Casey: I’m not a fit lass, I don’t reckon nobody’ll queue up for me getting my arse out or whatever

Janis: It isn’t the only option, you could be a fighter, footballer, more likely as a lad

Casey: you can’t be fuming and do none of that, only the ref who’s allowed

Janis: fine, get your arse out, apparently there’s no rules about that

Janis: I don’t reckon all of your friends use you like that, just, by the way

Casey: yeah, alright, took bit dramatic off you there for a sec

Janis: people like people who are a good time though, but if that’s mutual then you’re nobody’s 🤡

Casey: fuck it, can’t remember what you said about deep and meaningful chats but you had a point, probably, somewhere

Janis: what happens when the scran is gone and the films over

Janis: all gets a bit 😰

Casey: I’ll piss off, go chat to them all, no danger they’ll have owt deep or meaningful to say

Janis: 😏

Janis: You meant what you said, not saying anything to the rest

Casey: be at the gym tomorrow or we’ll fall out

Janis: of course I will

Casey: ‘course you will

Janis: have to burn this off, need to see you, make sure you’re doing alright

Casey: I’ll be alright once I’ve seen you

Janis: Hope so, s’the plan

Casey: can trust us on that one

Janis: gym make you pure 😁 anyway, win-win

Casey: right, nowt to worry about

Janis: 🤝

Janis: Better shut up, as you asked, what, hours ago, now

Casey: *👋

Casey: keep trying, this time to have a half decent night without your best mate and only them to hang about with

Janis: don’t be mean

Janis: you could be here, if you wanted to

Casey: I don’t

Janis: I know

Casey: night then

Janis: night, Case

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