#I forced them to say the phrase ‘stinky bed’ so many times

[guccigarantine]

chine eating the stinky mattress is my zevunzolia

[wincore]

sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning. 

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it). 

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly. 

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.) 

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone. 

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest. 

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.  

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable. 

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough. 

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says. 

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers. 

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure. 

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.  

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort. 

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp. 

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways. 

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people. 

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual. 

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading. The journey’s not over yet!

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and to @happytoobservenolongerdistant

Chapter 5: Girls’ Talk

Got a loaded imagination Bein' fired by girls talk It's a more or less situation Inspired by girls talk

Elvis Costello

It was just after one in the morning when Claire finally felt able to leave Mrs. Crook’s flat and return to her own. She hadn’t really been listening out for the return of the others, but as she got ready for bed, it was clear that they appeared to be making a night of it. Not that it was any of her concern, of course.

The next morning, having checked on her patient and found her to be a bit sore and bruised but otherwise in good form, Claire stepped outside for a run. She wasn’t actually keen on running, but it seemed a necessary evil, based on the amount of baked goods she knew would be coming her way from Mrs. Crook in the very near future. And, she thought as her feet led her to the park nearby, my style can’t exactly be classed as running.

********

Nine years ago

“I waited fer ye tae catch up wi’ me, Sassenach. Are ye out of breath?”

“... er… can’t... talk… need... a minute…”

“We’ve no’ gone verra far, and ye’re no’ even doin’ proper runnin’. Ye’re jes’ kinda bobbin’ up and down and flappin’ yer arms a bit. Come on, let’s go a wee bit further.”

“How.. how… can you not be out of breath at all?... This will be the death of me, James Fraser... I’m only doing this because I love you.”

“I ken, and I’m only doin’ this so I can watch yer arse jigglin’ around...aye, like that.”

“Let go, I’m all sweaty and stinky… oh, where’re we going?”

“Back tae yer place. I have plans tae get ye even sweatier and then clean ye up… see, look how fast ye can run when ye want tae.”

******

Red-faced and slightly smelly, Claire stood at the entrance to the flats trying to extricate her key from her pocket while juggling a large cup of coffee and the heavy mass of Sunday newspapers. The door suddenly opened from the inside and Jamie appeared in the doorway.

Startled, Claire’s grip on the newspapers relaxed and they began to slide out of her hand. Instinctively, Jamie reached out and grabbed them, tucking them securely under Claire’s arm.

“Er, thanks.”

“Ye seem tae be making a habit of dropping things.” Jamie responded, no trace of humour in his voice.

“Sorry.” Claire wasn’t sure what she was actually apologising for, but felt compelled to say something. “Er… did you have a good time last night?”

“Aye, it was grand, verra good food.” Jamie spoke formally, as though to a stranger. “And how is yer neighbour now?”

“She’s doing well. She’s one tough cookie.” Claire winced inwardly, the obvious Americanism sounding false to her ears.

“That’s good tae hear. Well, goodbye then.”

“Bye.”

******

The pile of newspapers lay untouched on the sofa next to Claire. She leant her head back and closed her eyes, trying to make sense of her emotions over the past twenty-four hours. So many questions crowded her mind. Was he married, or was it a coincidence that a Mr. And Mrs. Fraser were currently living in her house? Would she see him again, and if so, would the frigidity between them ever thaw? Could they ever become, well, not exactly friends but amicable acquaintances? And, he had obviously stayed the night in one of the flats, but which one? He had never agreed with the idea of casual sex, but that was eight years ago. A lot can change in that time. And if so, would it have been Mary or Anna?

In the interests of being neighbourly, Claire told herself, she decided to go and see Mary and Anna to give them an update on Mrs. Crook’s condition.

It was a very bleary-eyed and pale Anna, wrapped in a faded bathrobe, who opened the door to Claire. Coughing, she shuffled her way into the semi darkness of the living room, Claire following behind. Mary sat, similarly attired, nursing a large glass of orange juice.

Mary cleared her throat. “Morning, fancy a coffee then, Claire?”

“Tell you what, you both relax and I’ll make coffees for all of us. And where do you keep the paracetamol? I think you could do with some.”

While the coffee was brewing, Claire found the paracetamol and gave two to each of the sisters. Ignoring their cries of protest, she opened the curtains and let the midday sun stream into the room.  

The combination of coffee, orange juice and medication seemed to do the trick. By the time the first mug of coffee had been consumed, followed by a second mug with thickly buttered toast (all prepared by Claire), the sisters were able to fully engage in a conversation, rather than their initial monosyllabic responses.

“So was it a good night last night?” Claire asked casually.

Anna groaned. “I want to say yes… I seem to remember laughing a lot… and we went to a bar… was there karaoke, or am I imagining that?”

Mary laughed. “It wasn’t actual karaoke. That was the bar’s background music… that you insisted to sing along to… at the top of your voice… and with your hairbrush as a mic.”

Anna put her head in her hands. “God, no. How can you remember all this? Were you not drunk too?”

“Apparently not as much as you. Could have been worse, you did ask me which would make a better microphone- your hairbrush or a tampon. I advised the brush!”

“Is that all?”

“Well, you did rather try to force Jamie to sing too. I think he did it to humour you… well, don’t think it could be called singing… more a kind of chanting on one note.”

******

Nine years ago

“I feel wonderful because I see… The love light in yer eyes… And the wonder of it all… Is that ye jes’ don't realise how much I love ye”

“What?”

“Christ, Sassenach, have ye no romance in yer soul? I’m serenading ye here, a wee bit of Eric Clapton”

“Oh, is that what it was? Thanks, that’s a lovely thought, but… er… no… nothing.”

“What? I can tell from that glass face of yers, ye’re no’ impressed. Ok I admit it, I canna sing, I canna hear the music but I listen tae the words, ye ken. Ma voice may be lackin’ but I meant it all, every single word.”

“Oh, Jamie. Come over here and I’ll show you how much I appreciate it.”

*******

“So was everyone drunk then?” Claire continued the interrogation.

“Well, maybe not as much as Anna, but everyone was certainly merry. In the bar, we ordered a bottle of wine but Jamie and John moved onto whisky and I’d stopped drinking at that point, so basically Anna had a full bottle to herself.”

Anna groaned again. “I’ve just remembered walking home. Did I really make Jamie give me a piggyback?”

Mary nodded. “Yup. And you kept stroking his hair while he did.”

“Oh, did Jamie not go home then?” Claire tried to appear indifferent.

“No, John said he could crash at his. Jamie’s home isn’t in Glasgow anyway. It’s somewhere miles away, in the Highlands, I think. He’s been staying with his uncle, or cousin or something down here. Apparently, Jamie’s been in America for years and years and now he’s home for good and reconnecting with everyone.”

Claire thought for a moment and tried to think how best to phrase the next question. There was no way to be subtle about it. “And there’s no Mrs. Fraser, then?”

“Don’t think so. I’m sure he said he had no ties.” Mary answered.

Anna groaned for a third time. “God, don't you hate it when your memory starts coming back? Ignorance really is bliss, you know. I think I asked him why he was single, with a body like his. Don’t look at me like that, you two. I mean, come on, you saw him, what woman wouldn’t want a piece of that?”

“And what did he say?”

“My memory goes a bit hazy then. I think he said something about travelling around too much to settle, and then something about synchronicity... and then I had to go to the bathroom to throw up.”

***************

Claire looked round her office in frustration. Why Human Resources had to perform another audit was beyond her, but, as part of this totally necessary skills and qualifications audit, she had been asked to produce several certificates and diplomas relating to her current role -- originals, not copies. She had found most of the certificates, but was now struggling to locate her diploma for Fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons. It wasn’t anywhere in her flat, nor was it in any of her office cabinets. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly where it was… in the document safe, in the loft, back at the house. Bugger.

*******

“Ye’ll be staying fer a brew, then will ye?”

“If you’re sure I’m not bothering you, Mrs. Fraser.”

“Och, it’s nae bother… and, please call me Jocasta. Ma husband will be here in a minute. I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ tae meet ye.”

Claire sat in her kitchen (no, remember, not her kitchen any more) while Jocasta busied herself making a pot of tea and adding a tin of shortbread to the table.

“I guess mebbe we should use another room tae sit in, but I do love this kitchen. Murtagh and I eat most of our meals in here.” Jocasta poured the tea and passed it over to Claire.

Sitting across from Claire and picking up a shortbread finger, she continued. “We’re verra happy here, ye ken. I’d been in New Zealand fer nigh on thirty years, went over wi’ ma first husband, but always wanted tae come back. Then when I met Murtagh and we talked about getting married, we kent we’d come home together fer good.”

“Were ye talking about me?” Murtagh came up behind Jocasta and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Murtagh, this is Claire. This is her, weel, her uncle’s house. She needed tae collect something, and now she’s staying fer a cup of tea and a wee chat.”

“Please tae meet ye, Claire. I dare say Jocasta’s told ye we’re mightily fond of this house.” Beneath the heavy dark beard, streaked liberally with silver, he smiled softly. “It’s tae big fer us really, but it means we can have plenty of visitors coming tae stay with us. Ma goddaughter has three bairns. And ma godson is jes’ back in Scotland himself. He’d been in America fer several years.”

Claire started at the mention of Murtagh’s godson. It couldn’t be, and yet… she placed her cup on the table a little too quickly, banging against the biscuit tin.

Murtagh continued. “Aye, he did well over there but there’s always the pull of yer own home. He and his sister live up no’ far from Inverness. A quiet wee place, sae I think he likes tae come and stay fer a bit of excitement, mebbe a lassie or two has caught his eye.”

He gave an exaggerated wink as Jocasta playfully punched his arm. Claire tried to appear calm, but worried about her ‘glass face’, she picked up her cup, holding it in front of her face as some sort of shield.

“Ow, what was that fer?” Murtagh joked. “I’m jes’ sayin’ what I think. ‘Tis high time the lad settled down. Even more so now he’s runnin’ Lallybroch since his da’s heart attack.”

Shocked, Claire inhaled sharply. “Heart attack?” she asked without thinking.

Jocasta studied Claire’s face. “Aye, Murtagh’s cousin had a heart attack six months ago. Why, dear?”

“Oh, no matter,” Claire struggled for a reasonable response. “I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon. Professional interest, that’s all.”

“Professional interest, is it?” Jocasta replied, with a smile. “Aye, that’s all.”

Note: Quote from Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton

[andromeda---galaxy]

routine procedure

Beginning of a three part fic featuring Gabe dealing with appendicitis

Philip sighs happily, sliding his arms around Lukas’s middle. The shower spray cascades over the two of them and Lukas tugs him a little closer, Philip’s toes on top of his.

 “We need to wash the dog,” Lukas says.

 Philip snorts. “She just got a bath two days ago.”

 Lukas runs a hand through Philip’s hair. “She starts stinking like three hours after her bath,” he says. “She’s just a naturally stinky dog.”

 Philip huffs and pulls back a little bit, looking up into Lukas’s eyes. “She shouldn’t! She’s a dainty little girl and she hardly breaks a sweat when we take her out.”

 “How do you know that?” Lukas asks, starting to smile. “You been measuring her sweat levels like a weirdo?”

 Philip pushes at him but Lukas laughs and pulls him closer again. Philip lays his head on Lukas’s shoulder and can hear Izzy growling at one of her toys outside the door. “No. But she shouldn’t stink. And if you gave her baths on the right schedule she’d smell how she should.”

 “Oh, me?” Lukas says. “I’m suddenly the main dog-bath-giver?”

 “She likes your baths better,” Philip says, placing a slippery kiss on Lukas’s collarbone. “She always shakes all over me and doesn’t let me wash her properly.”

 Lukas laughs. “Those sound like excuses.”

“Nope,” Philip says, vaguely hearing his phone ringing in the other room. He listens harder. “Is that my phone?”

 “Think so,” Lukas says.

 Philip sighs. He hopes it isn’t another job. He’s been so slammed lately, from online applications and people calling his number, and he figures he needs to get a go-phone or something so people aren’t blowing up his cell all the time. But he’s a little thrilled at how many people want to hire him, how much they love his work. The good word of mouth about his photos has been out of this world. He smiles, glancing up at Lukas.

 “You think it’s someone else hiring you?” Lukas asks, his hand soothing back and forth on Philip’s waist.

 “Maybe,” Philip says.

 “Can’t blame ‘em,” Lukas says. “Imagine hiring somebody and who’s talented and hot? Fucking jackpot, right here.”

 Philip pushes him a little bit again, grinning. “Let’s finish up in here and I’ll call whoever it is back.”

 “Yes sir,” Lukas says, briefly kissing him on the cheek. “We still using this rose shampoo? Making ourselves smell like a literal greenhouse?”

 Philip shrugs, watching as Lukas bends to pick up the bottle.

 “Can’t be wasteful,” Philip says.

 ~

 His phone rings again when they’re drying themselves off and Lukas clicks his tongue.

 “I’m gonna answer it,” Lukas says, shooting Philip a look. “Pretend I’m your secretary.”

 “Oh God,” Philip laughs, pulling a shirt on as Lukas makes a beeline for his cell. “Don’t you lose me a client!”

 “I’m just gonna talk about your strengths and your perfect hair, you know, important things,” Lukas calls. Philip closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Oh hey, it’s Helen!” Lukas yells.

 “You got it?” Philip asks, pulling on his jeans, the material sticking to the dampness of his legs.

 “Yeah!”

 Philip was planning on calling her tonight after the movie, and he wonders what she’s got to tell him. He hangs the towel up and walks into the bedroom, hearing the tail-end of Lukas’s conversation with her.

 “Okay one second,” Lukas says, slowly, turning around with a strange look on his face. He holds his finger over the receiver.

 “What is it?” Philip asks, his heart beating a little faster.

 “Not sure, she’s…she sounds weird, she just asked to talk to you,” Lukas says.

 Philip takes the phone, his throat going tight. “Hello?” he says.

 “Hey kid,” Helen says, and her voice is shaking a little bit. “Uh, Gabe—we’re in the hospital, Gabe—well—”

 Philip is definitely panicking now and he’s got one arm wrapped around his middle, nails digging into the material of his shirt. Lukas steps closer, an anchoring hand on his elbow. “What is it?” Philip asks, scared to hear the answer.

 “He’s fine,” Helen says, quick. “He just had a little weird pain, couldn’t eat, so we went to emergency care and they figured that he needed his appendix taken out. So that’s, uh—”

 Philip’s eyes dart around. “His appendix?”

 “Yes,” Helen says. “He’s—he’s in surgery now. It all happened really fast, I’m sorry it took me so long to call. Uh, it’s gonna be fine. It’s very routine, Tony had his appendix taken out a year after I met him, so—it’s fine. But it’d be nice, better even if you two could come—uh, I know you have class—”

 “Lukas,” Philip says without thinking, his voice going a little shrill when he looks up. “Gabe is having appendix surgery, could we—”

 “Of course we can go home,” Lukas says, fast, not missing a beat.

 Philip’s stomach dips. “Yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Lukas says, nodding. “I’ll message my teachers right now and contact the car rental place.”

 Philip reaches down and squeezes Lukas’s wrist in silent thanks. “Okay,” he says into the phone. “We’re gonna get there as soon as we can.”

 Lukas walks over to the bed, sitting down and opening up his laptop.

 “You sure?” Helen asks. “I don’t want to—”

 “I’m sure,” Philip says, and panic rings loud in his ears but he tries to stay level. “We’ll get there later tonight, probably…” He trails off, watching Lukas nod.

 “He’s gonna be okay,” Helen says. “I just know it’ll bring up his spirits to see you guys, you can bring Izzy, leave her with Bo and Sarah…by the time you get here everything should be good, we’ll have a room number and you can head over.”

 “Okay,” Philip says, though his mouth is dry and he can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Okay, it’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna—do you want us to bring anything?”

 “Just yourselves,” Helen says. “Thank you, sweetheart. Hopefully we won’t keep you away for too long.”

 “Don’t worry,” Philip says. He’s said that phrase so many times in his life, so many times to his mother that it takes him back for a moment, to a different time, a strain in his heart and fear all over him. But he had to bury it all deep, put on a brave face, because their lives mattered more than his feelings. “Don’t worry,” he says again, feeling dizzy, and it’s like Lukas senses it because he looks up from his computer with concern in his eyes.

 “You either,” Helen says. “You sure you’re okay to come? Seriously, I don’t wanna force you, I shouldn’t have said it so fast, I was just thinking—”

 “No, no—I’m sure, we’re—we’re sure,” Philip says. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way.”

 “Okay kid,” she says. “Love you.”

 “Love you too,” Philip says. “Tell him we love him when he wakes up.”

 “Will do,” Helen says.

 They both hang up and Philip just stands there for a second. He wets his lips over and over and he’s having trouble focusing. Nothing ever happens to Gabe. Gabe always seems so solid. Philip tries to tell himself this is just his appendix. He’ll be fine.

 But it’s surgery. Lukas went into a coma after surgery.

 “Hey,” Lukas says.

 Philip looks at him sitting there, Izzy by his feet chewing on her ice cream toy, without a care in the world.

 “Uh,” Philip finds himself saying, “you think it’ll be okay with class? Did you—did you e-mail them?”

 “I e-mailed Monday through Wednesday just in case, told them I had an emergency because my father-in-law is in the hospital. It’ll be fine, don’t even worry about that.”

 The words ‘father-in-law’ ground him and Philip absentmindedly starts twisting his engagement ring on his finger. He walks over and sits next to Lukas, bumping their knees together.

 “She sounded worried,” Philip says.

 Lukas leans in and kisses Philip’s shoulder. “I mean, of course she is. I get worried when you get a fucking hangnail. That’s love, baby.”

 Philip snorts, leaning into him.

 “Hey, I don’t think I ever told you this but I had my appendix taken out when I was like, six,” Lukas says.

 Philip narrows his eyes at him. “Really?”

 “Yeah,” Lukas says. “I don’t remember it at all but Dad reminded me back when I was in the hospital.” He clears his throat. They’ve still been having a hard time with the Ryan memories lately. Lukas hasn’t agreed to therapy yet, but he hasn’t gone to beat the shit out of Dour either, so Philip figures he’ll take it for now. But he knows Lukas’s feelings are still simmering under the surface, and Philip wants to make sure they’re addressed. He knows he isn’t really over it all yet either, not by a long shot, but Lukas’s pain is flaring up because of the Dour shit. Philip hates it. He wants to help him. He wants to fix everything, everyone.

 He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Can we even get a rental car on short notice like this?”

 Lukas starts massaging his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down Philip’s neck. “Of course we can,” he says.

 “One of us needs to like, own one,” Philip says.

 “Or maybe we just get that side-car for the bike and Izzy can travel in there.”

 Philip splutters, covering his face. He can feel Izzy’s tail thumping on his feet. His worry abates for a minute and he turns to Lukas, cupping his face, admiring him for a moment before he kisses him. Lukas looks at him a little dreamily when they pull apart, and Philp kisses him again.

 “Thank you.”

 “For what?”

 Philip caresses Lukas’s cheek, highly aware of the ring on his finger again. “Just—dropping everything, adapting so well—”

 Lukas shakes his head. “Gabe’s family. They both are. And you, well,” he laughs a little bit and makes a face like he’s gonna say something stupid, but a soft smile sneaks onto his face instead. “You. You’re everything. You know I’d do anything for you.”

 Philip is fucking floored by him. He leans in and kisses him again, deeper this time, feeling Lukas’s arm wind around his waist. He sighs into Lukas’s mouth and then nuzzles against his cheek.

 “He’s gonna be fine, babe,” Lukas says. “It’s just his appendix. It’s perfectly normal. It’s gonna be fine.”

 Philip nods.

 It’s just his appendix.

 Nothing is gonna happen to Gabe.

 He’s gonna be fine.

 He’s gonna be fine.

[the-firebird69]

Pyramids

Each has a name

They are special to us very special. We keep it a secret throughout the duration

We're on them like stink on s*** we have 50000 heading our way white stinky Little ships and I'll take them out and other saying they figured it out when it doesn't matter they sent so many before and we wonder why they keep saying that then we figured out something they think we're dumb then think we arent and they think we're dumb then they get hit.

Use all manner of super computer and make a computer to correct the spelling changes they make okay I'll do it constantly that's if it's going to try and save them or help them make things work they think they are going to make progress by exposing themselves.

huge differences in language and etiquette between us and them they have practically no use for plain English and caught boring and useless went around all day long speaking in mementos and code even talking about working when what they're dealing with his crappy materials crappy weapons and weapons that don't exist but not theirs and they won't be and they can't even control themselves at all when they hear it the ridiculous people who can understand what they're talking about this you know code then they want you to get absorbed into it for us to get repulsed because it's disgusting most of what they do is wasting time then all of a sudden they say what they're doing cuz they're saying it and we realize that it's kind of a tough technique but it's not that tough but it's small enough going to be small when you're small and you have a huge Force watching you that's organized like ours cuz you're forced us to get organized she forced him to train to do it so if you're committing suicide which is really what you're doing you can monitor people quite easily kill them remotely without using any weapons the psychically and we do that a lot and we're expecting you to lose shortly completely once you do you're all going to fall down here I never get out it would be hilarious to us until he refused to tapes when he finds out that other people are suffering like him because you're disgusting repulsive aaronic losers who live in act as animals your behavior is almost exactly like animals it's just that you mimic and copied people and you're losing that you're walking around like animals when is it's feeding time when do I have to poop plus if you have that kind of look on your face where is he's trying to avoid you and is healing and is running around getting things going and he's running shows and he's ordering US troops around and is gaining momentum and he's getting troops and is disabling all of your weaponry doomsday where you just wandering around trying to scavenge for your next bomb or your next meal or place to stay for an hour or day like fragrance and bums it was like poppers don't care what he's living like because you're not intellectuals you don't understand what it can do even though most of you watched him his whole life too ridiculous to him we found out that it's you people annoying everybody the people here so going through you like crap through a goose tons of you came out to see the pyramids and I have for you it's about a trillion the others are from other places of ratios acceptable you've been doing is this hiding there ruining everyone's life sacrificing them thinking you're going to win something by doing it and doing no work sitting here thinking of the riders of the storm if nauseous Lee stupid tells you point blank we're just going to come here and kill out with you this is going to look at when you can't figure it out it's cleaning speaking code since I won't speak in code I'll go around circles for thousands of years saying nothing and I'll get her to like you use us wimps who die young usually.

And another thing stop trying to change reality by messing up the words every week until that you messed them up nothing is spelled right usually nothing is phrase correctly and he looks back and almost all of it is you idiots tampering with it physically or having us do stuff and it pays us cuz we see you didn't see why we see what you want on your way and you can't figure that out what do you say is why don't you try something secrert like your actual spies do, it's too hard we won't let you to blow it off if you want to be this big fat assholes losers with huge moronic faces identify yourselves is 1/8 and you get hit immediately for driving around me or harassing me or trying to come in here and all your stuff gets exposed we have your cannons and your muscles are firing the night happy little douchebags your losing territory here.

Trying a little everyday I getting upset cuz you can't get anything done cuz you don't try the right stuff it's not good enough to help you survive sitting here is threatening me is you all do is a death sentance for all those here and I explained it and it's simple math and you don't get it.

I told you little show people I said you don't listen to it all your screw yourself so often so many times and you're hiding all these lovely secrets that you keep blabbing to other people or just cells what the hell are you doing it looked up winning her hair lyrics from using one of us we're trying to hurt you and we want you to stop what you're doing looks like that's why I'm doing what I'm doing everybody knows that you're freaking twin and a loser to go after you for what you're doing it pays us all the time only a Niger would do it you're doing so he looks up at up at me Hera, and it says we don't get what you're saying it's not clear to us so I sent it again to their language over and over several different ways we do things over and says this is your way of doing things then I said you die every time so he said no we don't I said yes you do I have proof I don't want to send it to you I'd rather have you died what you are doing is annoying as to kill you and your ridiculous.

He's coughed and said well if it's true it's ridiculous when I said was it's ridiculous you're a bunch of buffoons nobody ever has done this this way in history you elected two idiots you're all following idiots idiots don't do things correctly are there an idiot or you're falling the round circular cover they expose you at every turn and every day every dive every day every waterway every river every desert every road every move that you make during the day and anyway they're opening their mouths and grabbing you can see them doing it right there

He said to me Hera we don't know what we're doing wrong and we can't see them doing it if you could tell us please let us know so it sounds like you're retarded and you don't understand what you're doing wrong he said yes I don't get it you're the news internationally globally and on the local level telling every single person your competitors all sorts of things about your nuclear bombs as a fade clear or poignant threat they show up on your doorstep at the news place and cut your head off as soon as you leave the desk.

he said wow that's descriptive I say I don't care for your retard s*** or your retards your verbiage in your talk and it nasty f****** way if you want to die and don't care just continue being an a****** to me and everybody else there's plenty of people who want to take their money back so go away take your stupid f****** self and crap yourself to death with stir a****** so he smiled and said it's true but we can't stop then we said we're going to kill all of you your morons and we can't stand you at all and we see what your people are saying they don't care if they die they want you dead what we say is we want you dead we must make you dye your repulsively stupid you can't find us you can't fight us you can't figure out what invisibility is it's right on your cell phone you freaking moron.

not even sure why you get out of bed in the morning you're so freaking stupid you're in the way of everybody trying to survive because you've had me raising a huge for us to get rid of you and your a****** idiots who I thought was everybody who's a Satanist you freaking moron turns around arms around says shut up to me Hera. So I said to him know we're going to follow you around and collect all your people and kill them in front of you.

He said that's great and I hear this you deserve it it's your free gift so he went around collecting people told him all sorts of stuff to do, things has this we don't have time to handle this so I grab them right away thrown into captivity so I killing all the stupid people in front of him his kids as wife so this is nice we said you're a f****** a****** even in captivity your f****** moron we're going to torture you until you die permanently even if we try to revive you because we want to do it to you so we started doing any starts screaming I don't want to talk to me I should so what so I kept doing it and doing it and doing it finally said this we can't shut up we think we have everything was stupid but we say is we've killed trillions and trillions of you and we show you and you're too stupid to understand it it's your people dying and you used to hold us in check with it hours leave we told you that so he says we can't figure it out so I started to think of something you're so dumb that I can't stand talking to you you're so stupid that I don't understand why you're so stupid and I asked my Father and he said this listen to the exact words they're saying and try and process that and you'll understand it so I did and says this we're trying to steal all your stuff and don't want you to know and then I told the guy we know about that what you're doing is counterproductive to that tell us what to say so no that's ridiculous you're pissing us off again is it worth trying to piss you off because when people are angry they tend to not understand what they're doing and I should we know that you're angry us we get stronger meaner larger much more powerful it works incredibly strangely on him he becomes this massive God, is almost too powerful for us because of you idiots every time I turn around it's got a new weapon system when he invites everybody in and we go in and we understand what he's doing and we help him control and rubbed it all because of you once again you're imbiciles you trust me it says shut up I said don't say that. He kept on blithering so I played his thoughts back to him, it sounded like a moron cuz he is one and it thoughtd sounded like this, I can't help it my father's on my case I don't know what to do we screwed everything up so badly he keeps yelling at us these people keep yelling at us these things are so big and so huge will never defeat them. Then I hear this in a teeny voice from his head we have to stop talking nothing that we say is helping and we can't so I played it back to the guy over and over he finally says this it's true we can't stop talking and it's ruining us then answer this again we know why you think that we know why you do it it's painfully obvious so obvious that your rigmarole is a waste of your time all the time he said this if you think it's something else let us know we said oh sure that's what we think and he said oh then we said it's definitely a major concern

and we leave it out sick and said this is what we do we seek out every single doomsday that you have or are planning and all of your doomsday supplies we seek it out in houses in small sheds in shacks underground in big buildings in store houses everywhere on Earth we read everything I will scan for everything and we interview practically everybody from a city where to find the same thing what are these loud mouth harrigan stupid suckers that you looking for we won't stop talking because we're not so bright and we're more or less animals and I figured out what he saying let's just get rid of them as fast as possible the faster we get rid of him the less trouble and danger going to be in they don't have time to build this soon enough time to go that they're not organized well enough they don't talk to each other they don't count how many wmds you have you don't count how many doomsday they have they don't know if the neighbors doing DOOMSDAY or not they simply don't know. I'll find what they say to be fascinating now just sitting there looking at each other going we don't understand what we did and said you're stupid you told us you're not dying together you told us that you don't have a system that works and knowing what each other is doing and that's a weakness none of you care what's happening to other people now y'all a bunch of animals that I wanted to die and watch others die thinking you can grab stuff because you're massively argant for some reason nobody really can figure out why.

Then they start using debit as swear words and kids talk so ignoring I said this we're going to clean you out hear every night and every day over and over and over till they stop coming I'm going to get rid of them all over the world how do you feel about that they said your dead

I said no you are started whacking him in front of the other ones and then they all started yelling and see if you don't start yelling stop yelling if you do not stop yelling stop yelling we will kill all of you so they started yelling we killed them all left one he asks why leave me alive

We said because we tell them we're going to do this if you do that then they do it and we kill them and we don't know why they're doing that he said it's obvious if they're dead they can't tell you everything so we have a device to record your brain and he said we can't believe that. I said your kind of insane because if we didn't have it we don't have to kill he starts laughing you think you're weak-willed because you kill us when you have a machine that you can record a song suite look like total mass of idiots. Then I said that's why we're calling you massive idiots what you should be doing this what he said hardly any of you picked it up most of you are very stupid and have been so for a long time you're like suckling pigs you have been so for quite a while and in numbers that are grossly huge and said you're correct it's a waste of time to talk to us. the higher-ups wanted to use it to hide and they did for some time and now it is failing them so many people know and talk and spew things to this look since you're going to kill me anyway just wanted to tell you this it says f off and then I said well you already told me what I needed to know and that everybody's looking for so that's pretty much it you're all stupid you're so stupid you just connected your leader is an idiot and won't connect anyone the morons running around and say they're winning because one thing or another we find every time they do. Is it going to just kill me so I did then I'm thinking to myself these people are so ridiculous that we've been wasting time talking to them and he knew it so he created the device where I can't stand is every stupid a******* in my planet is going to want to know what I'm thinking all the time so you have to live like this to a degree because of all you stupid freaking assholes because they can just go in there and find out what was thinking pretty much extremely accurately which is not really that fair and it's dangerous so we have to ask you do you think that you're going to survive after approaching a group like ours and fueling us handing us all your stuff telling us all your weaknesses one of us knowing you sent us two different planets Armenians to a point where we can destroy the planet a million times even if you try and escape we have a network up there to destroy you with and you still run around like we're nothing and see where nothing your hokey as hell hokie hokey as hell you're extremely stupid I have no way of expressing it anymore and that's what he said I was living in was in my whole life watching them ring getting information and now I don't understand why they are dumber than an empty box of tissues it's like relating to a dead horse okay so you're going to sit there and rot away when they're alive it's very weird we found it to what he says is they're bluffing like hell and won't stop bluffing they existed this way for a long time

They won't stop doing we have to clear this area every night to make sure there's no device in there the core etc but he says could be cuz they said you're sitting in the morning so we do here I would do it all over the place we have to nail everything else that we can't reach we're finding out something you can put a bunch of dumb assholes sitting there laughing about it you can see us bombing the living s*** out of you can see that we keep up with it we pull every single one of you and it says you can't an interview you question you and interrogate you and get it all there's never a satisfactory answer for your behavior I will tell you this he fed you some of it and you took it and ran because you want to blame him for a bad attitude that we could care less for and his attitude is not that bad with you but yours is atrocious your massive massive massive assholes assholes to the freaking hills none of your own can stand any of you hear she's going to die tonight all of you because they're sick and tired of hearing you talk in sick of your faces and tired of your a****** sick routine time your s*** talk your s*** face your ass faces your ass walk the whole f****** routine bunch of lazy ass pieces of crap expecting a free gift for treating a bad tree goes bad you don't dead or come in there and kill you now