#I lit would rather just be in the back rooms cleaning out litter trays and shit

[usedtobemygirl]

I start volunteering at the cat cafe in a couple weeks but I honestly don’t know what’s happening and I need full instructions on what I’m doing but they said they’d train me on the job but I cannot comprehend verbal instructions so i think ill die

[kokororyuu]

miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]

synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”

warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33

PART TWO: once more

whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.

you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.

you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?

you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?

“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.

your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.

you recall the first time you caught him off guard.

it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.

you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.

a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.

a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.

“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.

it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”

levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.

“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.

there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.

you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.

“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”

“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.

he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.

“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

-

from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.

“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.

“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”

you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.

“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.

hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?

-

in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.

you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.

-

levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.

it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.

he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.

it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.

he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.

levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.

during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.

the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.

you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”

you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.

“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.

levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.

but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.

“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.

“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.

the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.

levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.

-

the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.

the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.

there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.

-

levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.

he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.

he felt normal, and strangely free.

and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.

he didn’t want to lose you.

levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.

humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.

“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.

“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.

his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”

“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”

you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.

one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.

“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.

you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.

it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.

he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.

he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.

you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.

you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.

time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.

he’s lost his light.

you’re gone.

levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.

he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.

as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.

his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.

the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”

and finally, he lets himself cry.

explanations

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D

“it is...”

this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

[sasamdcu]

The Thought That Counts

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156649

Summary: After a day of struggling to function Tara discovers Raven's attempt to do something nice for her. 

Tara blinked wearily in the dark of her room, her eyes refusing to stay open. She felt like she hadn’t slept in days, her mouth dry and numb as if it were stuffed with cotton. Despite having just slept for the past twelve hours somehow she just couldn’t wake up. She’d made it as far as climbing shakily off her bed and had ended up sitting with her back to it on the floor.

She tried to remember why she needed to get up, it was her day off there wasn’t any plans the other Titan’s had that she could remember. It was so hard to remember though, her consciousness seeming to blank for varying period of time matching the droop of here eyelids. She couldn’t even remember how long she had been sitting there but it must have been a while because she could feel her stomach twisting in hunger. Or was that her chest twisting in pain? It all felt so distant and unreal, like she was feeling second hand what some other far off Tara was feeling.

Laying down across the soft carpet floor she didn’t really think about taking another nap or that she’d stay there, she didn’t really think at all, it was hard to think. The carpet was nice though, and soft yet solid. She could feel it there under her and it held her in place.

Distantly she heard a soft rapping sound that continued on and off and soft voice calling her name but she was already drifting off.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tara woke again it was to the faint glow of the stars and Jump City lights filtering in through her window. Her mouth still felt dry but she could feel the cracked lips and the way her cheeks felt hollowed and sucked clean of moisture. Her cheek gross and sticky from drool. Her head clearer, more focused. No longer drifting and scattered. The other thing she felt was a very strong urge to pee.

She sat for a few minutes trying to make the feeling go away, unwilling to get up. The uncomfortable pressure on her bladder and the clamminess of still laying on the floor eventually bested her however and she clambered up to her feet. Her legs already feeling steadier than when she last awoke.

She wandered into her en-suite before remembering that the plumbing on the residential floor of the tower had been ruined earlier in the week by one of Victor and Garfield’s pranks. She hesitated weighing the decisions, either she could just go anyways and be unable to flush or she could wander down to one of the lower floors. Deciding she didn’t want to be stuck with the smell of ammonia in her room until someone finally got around to fixing the pipes she opted for the latter. Rubbing her hand over her chin she could feel the disgusting prickly sensation almost burn across her face and grimaced. Quickly she checked the mirror to see how noticeable the stubble was. To her chagrin she had put off shaving so long small buds of blonde hair were beginning to noticeably creep into her reflection. Checking the time (an astoundingly atrocious 3:27AM) she decided she was probably safe to venture out without anyone seeing her. A lucky break considering she definitely did not have the energy to shave and reapply her makeup from what was now almost two days prior.

Opening her door she was surprised to find a tray of foot placed along the far wall, clearly intended to be seen by her upon leaving the room. Slowly she poked her head out and looked up and down the hall but saw no one in the darkness of the night. Creeping out to inspect the tray she was absolutely dumbfounded to find what appeared to be a bowl of home made Käsknöpfle and some kind of drink. Absolutely bewildered she lifted the small tray and brought it into her room, setting it down on her desk before hurrying back out into the hall and down the nearest staircase to the washroom on the floor below.

Once relieved she wandered out of the washroom to be surprised by Gar standing outside. Tara thanked the gods that he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, her face remaining hidden in the darkness.

“Oh hey Tara, glad to see you up and about. Did you get the dinner Raven left you?” he yawned scratching the back of his neck.

“Yea, that was from Raven?” Tara asked, trying her best to remain calm and be ‘friendly’. Something she’d been working on since returning to the Titans.

“Yea dog, she was worried since we hadn’t seen you all day so since it her turn to cook she tried making that Kask...” He yawned cutting himself off. “That dish that’s really popular in Markovia . She said she was gonna make sure you got some. Last I saw she was still in the kitchen waiting for you to stop by but that was like, at ten? Thanks by the way for picking a vegetarian dish for a fav e , I like enjoying what everyone else is enjoying.” Garfield continued on like a run away train the way he often did. “Yea no problem.” Tara said distractedly cutting in before he could transition to another topic and thew in an insult by force of habit . “Don’t let me keep you from the bathroom though dude. I don’t need to pissing yourself in the hall. You are litter box trained aren’t you?” “Yea thanks?” Gar scrunched his face up at her confused at how distracted and weak the insult had seemed. Something he wasn’t used too.

Tara didn’t even noticed his confusion heading back to the main living floor to check out the kitchen. While Tara had been trying her best to be nicer since returning she had noticed quite obviously that Raven had been also attempting to be nicer to her as well. Unlike the early days where she’d insult Raven and Raven would say her emotions felt like the damned returned from hell to walk among the living. Or something to that effect with less of the gravitas. But potentially staying up all night waiting for her would be too much wouldn’t it? I mean she had to have given up at some point and left the tray instead. A creeping sense of worry began to gnaw at her. She decided to check it out just in case.

Entering the kitchenette she turned the lights on and then slow raised the dimmer so the room was lit but a low mild orange. Looking around she found the kitchen to be completely empty and sighed a breathe of relief. She would have hated it if Raven had wasted her whole day waiting for her. That kind of self sacrificing attitude was infuriating about her, but also sometime Tara found herself being charmed by it. She’d come to admit recently. It was nice knowing Raven cared about her and it made her want to reciprocate the gesture, even if the best she could do was just not making Raven feel the need to waste time on her or stopping her when she tried.

Tara was halfway back to her room, cutting through the living room as a short cut from the kitchen when she spied the small black and purple mass bundled up on the couch. It was clearly even from a distance and in the dark the sleeping form of Raven. Tara could feel herself clench up, balling her hands into fists and biting her lower lip as tears began to form at the corners of her eyes unbidden. She wasn’t really sure why, she wasn’t sad. Not in that kind of way at least. She just felt tired and exhausted all of a sudden. Yet somehow she was also happy, euphoric almost. Her emotions fighting together and falling into each other in an almost manic game of king of the hill.

“You fucking idiot. Why can’t you just look after yourself for once.” she muttered under her breathe while stalking past towards her room.

Grabbing one of her two pillows and a spare blanket she tried to reign herself in to avoid stomping all the way back to Raven’s sleeping form. It was strange to see her like this, so vulnerable and open. Before Raven had always kept her guard up when Tara was around so when Tara marched up to wake her up and tell her to sleep properly like the hypocrite that she knew herself to be she stopped short upon seeing the other girl. She looked so small bundled up in her cloak the way she was, the pallid skin of her face peeking out from the hood looked peaceful and beautiful, in an oddly otherworldly ethereal sort of way that sucked her in. Like some kind of beautiful corpse laying there moments before decomposition kicks in. The way she seemed to almost blend into the shards of moonlight that broke in through the windows transfixed her and caused her heart to race dramatically. She wanted to reach out and brush her hand across her soft looking cheeks and to cup her face and bring her in for a kiss. She figured this must be why people were so obsessed with vampire romance fiction. Her mind skipped a beat moments after her heart as she realized what she’d just thought. Blushing a violent red as the thought of her kissing Raven flooded back to her again unbidden.

Awkwardly Tara reached out to wake Raven, stopping short before starting and stopping again four or five times. She then tried to see if there was a way to lift her head to place the pillow under before giving up on that. Finally she tried to spread out the blanket over her just to abort in panic as Raven rolled in her sleep. Feeling strangely confused about how to proceed and gave up, folding the blanket back up albeit rather poorly and placed them in a pile beside the couch before practically sprinting back to her room. Her mind racing with the thought. What the fuck was that?

Back inside her room she collapsed in the beaten up folding chair she kept by her desk and sunk her head into her hands. Disbelief flooded her already confused emotions. Did she like Raven? I mean, it was pretty clear from this that aesthetically there was definitely something there but her stomach twisted unsure if there was anything else there. She sat there running the possibilities through her head on loop when she noticed the tray of food once more. Without thinking she slowly reached out for the fork and speared some of the spätzle, cheese and onion mixture. It wasn’t particularly good, but it wasn’t bad either really. The fact that Raven had went out of her way to learn how to and try to make a dish from her homeland for her to make her feel better was so disgustingly sweet that it overpowered any fault in the dish and seasoned it perfectly with the gratitude she felt. Tears began to fall from her face again at the realization that hit her. It was scary, the thought of having romantic feelings again after so long. She didn't think she was ready. She was terrified in fact that she would immediately fuck everything up. Romance had never been good for her.

Trying to eat another bite or two Tara found she still couldn’t bring up an appetite. Frustrated as it made her she left the dish barely touched and climbed herself back into bed like she’d originally planned. Laying under the covers she couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to the girl passed out on the couch and her heart seemed to lose control again. Sleep came fast with dreams of Raven that upon awaking Tara would be unable to remember fully, wondering if the previous night and her feelings where just another dream as well. The bowl sat on her desk still unfinished as a gentle reminder.

[silverfootstepswrites]

Northern Lights [1]

title Still summary Gaze into the eye of the storm

Smoke rose in a single wisp. Climbing up to the ceiling.

She exhaled, gray fumes spilling from her mouth. Clinging to the shape of her chin, her jaw, her lips. 

“You have until I get to three to talk,” she warned. She bared her white teeth in a smile. 

“Three,” she declared, examining her nails. 

A crack erupted into the night sky. The fragrance of gunpowder lingering on the wind. The smell of metal filled the room. The low yowl of a feral cat called out from somewhere not too far away. 

Sakura got to her feet. She wiped her face with her sleeve, red smearing across her cheek.

“Clean that up,” she ordered. The crimson bottoms of her heels clicked against the concrete.

It was a Tuesday night. Which meant that nothing worthwhile was happening. At least, not in this corner of Shibuya. His second beer sat at the top of his stomach. He felt faintly sick, like carsickness that hadn’t quite faded. The walls and floors pulsed with a beat that he could almost hear past the doors. 

The beaded curtain clicked against itself. 

“I said no visitors, Aida,” he snarled, lifting his chin. 

Eyes sliding open, they followed the woman descending the few steps. The plush carpet muffled the sounds of her movement. Because those footsteps would have warned him of who it was.

His upper lip curled. 

“You...” he growled. The whites of her eyes gleamed too white. 

“Boss Inuzuka,” she purred. 

The light danced across the scars on the backs of his hands as he moved. He got to his feet. Sakura shoved him back down, hand squeezing his shoulder. She sat on his knee, mouth still smirking. 

“Let’s talk, old friend,” she murmured. 

“Fuck you. I have nothing to say to you,” he spat.

Her eyebrows rose, like she was genuinely hurt by his tone. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck. Her other hand stroked his cheek. Touches feather-light, almost like she wasn’t really there. 

Her expression warmed. “You’ll like what I have to say,” she promised him.

He felt one eyebrow rise.

“....What do you mean?”

To the south of the city, a phone screen lit up bright blue. 

“Boss,” Kisame grunted, sliding it across the table. 

A smile flickered across Itachi’s face as he skimmed through the message. Chin on his fist, he reread the contents, slowly this time.

“Doing whatever she wants...” he murmured. And then his gaze flickered to his right.

“Anything else, gentlemen?” Itachi questioned. The other executives shook their heads. Their gazes pointedly avoiding the phone in his hand. No one had to ask who the message was from.

“Well, then. In the absence of the Yamanaka-kai, I’m handing over all their operations to the Akimichi’s,” Itachi declared. The round-faced man sitting at the other end of the room bowed his head low. Both hands braced on the edge of the table. 

“I won’t fail you, Kumicho,” the man promised. 

Itachi’s eyes narrowed.

“That wasn’t even a possibility in my mind, Akimichi-san. Was it in yours?” demanded Itachi. The ice in his voice made the room fall utterly silent. It didn’t even sound like anyone was breathing. 

Itachi’s gaze swept around once before he placed his phone inside his jacket. As he moved to stand, everyone else scrambled to their feet before him. He took his time buttoning his blazer before he shrugged on his coat.

“Gentlemen,” Itachi said.

“Good night, Boss,” they chorused, bowing to him. Until all he could see were the tops of their thinning hair greeting him.

It was blustery outside. The trees swaying to the left and right, the rare bits of litter tumbling down the sidewalk. The car sat waiting outside. Sasori leaned against the steering wheel, looking vaguely bored. As he usually did.

"That was fast, Godaime,” remarked Sasori as Itachi got in the back seat. Ignoring him, Itachi typed out something. Sasori’s phone lit up with an address. He let out a sigh.

“So you want me to cancel the rest of your night, Boss?” asked Sasori as he shifted gears. He pulled the car onto the road, easily merging with the traffic. Itachi turned his face toward the window, hand covering his mouth. Like Sasori didn’t know he was smirking.

“Good man, Sasori,” replied Itachi.

The car traveled up through Minato, past Tokyo Tower. Crossing through Chuo. They stopped a few blocks from Ginza with its neon lights flickering in and out of focus. 

It wasn’t difficult to find the place. Like many of Sakura’s favorite haunts, the bar was located on the roof. Itachi gave his name at the door. The bouncer unhooked the velvet rope to let him inside, ignoring the complaints of the people grumbling from their places in line. 

The inside of the bar was surprisingly busy. A singer crooned on the stage, piano playing in the background. Water gurgled out of fountains in every corner of the room. The patrons of the place sat at round tables, heads close together as they spoke, barely glancing at him as he walked past. 

He found her sitting alone. Her white furs dangling from her elbows as she leaned against the bar. The bright shades of her tattoos were probably what were repelling everyone else. Almost like the colors of poisonous snakes warned predators to keep their distance. 

Itachi’s hand slid over her back before he settled into the stool next to hers. 

“Champagne? What are we celebrating?” he inquired. 

“Me.” And then Sakura shot him a coy look over her shoulder. 

“Your humility? Or something else?” Itachi pressed. Because beneath the teasing, real curiosity lurked in his eyes. Sakura raised her eyebrows. 

“I won’t tell. Not here, at least,” she replied. 

“Then let’s get out of here,” Itachi suggested. 

“You don’t want to have a drink? They’re not half bad here,” Sakura asked in return, like she couldn’t see his impatience. But she didn’t feel like torturing him tonight. Draining, her glass, she got out of her chair. 

“Lead the way, leng zaai,” she said.

They took a taxi to her penthouse in Roppongi Hills. It was a rather recent purchase. And though it wasn’t quite as beautiful as the one back in Hong Kong, it suited her needs well. The doorman kept his mouth shut, and the quiet location made it easy for her to come and go as she pleased. 

Sakura swiped her key card. The lock clicked before the door swung open. The lights in the entrance flickered on when they sensed movement. Sakura let out a sigh of relief as she stepped out of her heels. Pulling her furs off, she dragged them behind her as she headed into the apartment. The lights illuminating her path as she triggered the sensors.

“Red or white?” she called. 

“Red,” answered Itachi as he took off his shoes. 

By the time he made it to the kitchen, Sakura had already popped open a bottle of wine. She stood washing her hands in the sink. The diamonds in her ears twinkled as she turned her head in his direction. 

“Busy night tonight?” he asked, glancing over her outfit. 

“Not particularly. Although, Inuzuka Kiba is being difficult lately,” Sakura responded. Itachi’s mouth pulled up in the corners.

“I can’t imagine why. Especially after you shot him in both his hands,” he retorted, picking up his glass. Sakura’s eyes narrowed. She wiped her hands on a clean towel before she took her drink. They clinked glasses together. 

“Are you saying he didn’t deserve it?” Sakura asked, watching as Itachi sipped his drink. 

“No. What I’m saying is that you’re going to have to be a little persuasive if you want the Inuzuka-kai to do you any favors,” Itachi corrected her. He took another sip of his wine. 

“Perhaps,” she murmured. And then, she looked him over. “Anything interesting on your end?” Sakura turned the conversation around. 

They traded a few details about their days as they drank their wine. Itachi finished his first, which was rare. Sakura was usually on her second or third glass by the time he got through one. But she just kept it in her palm, occasionally swirling the drink around. She had barely gotten through half of it by the time they headed upstairs. 

Sakura passed him the glass as she headed to the bathroom. She stood at the mirror, peeling her false eyelashes off. Itachi watched from the doorway. She rubbed blue liquid onto her eyelids, melting off the eyeliner and sparkling shadow. 

“What do you hope to achieve by giving the Akimichi’s an advantage?” Sakura inquired as she rubbed cleanser into a lather before rubbing it on her face. Her hands moved in circles, erasing all traces of her makeup. 

“Well, the Sarutobi’s have always been a nuisance. But I’m hearing rumors that the old man might be exchanging sake with the Aburame’s,” Itachi informed her. As Sakura rinsed her face, she considered this. She straightened, patting her skin dry with a towel. And then she look at Itachi in the mirror.

“And you don’t want the Akimichi’s getting any ideas about trying to get in on that action,” Sakura concluded. Itachi nodded. Sakura tossed the towel onto the counter. She headed out of the bathroom, and he followed her. 

“You’ve been tolerating the Sarutobi’s for a while. Have you considered dealing with them directly?” suggested Sakura. 

Itachi sat on the edge of the bed, still holding onto her wine glass. 

“Do you really think that the Sarutobi’s will be willing to negotiate?” he asked. His eyes followed her as she walked to the vanity. Her earrings tinkled as she pulled them out, set them in the tray. She took her time pulling off her rings and dropping them one-by-one. When she caught his gaze in the mirror, she saw him taking a sip of her wine. Pulling the bobby pins from her hair, she turned around. 

“Then don’t negotiate,” Sakura told him. Itachi chuckled.

“Of course. There’s the Haruno Sakura way. Maybe I should just have you shoot him for me,” Itachi sighed. Hair hanging in loose curls, Sakura smirked at him.

She took slow steps toward him. His free hand reached out for her. Palm smoothing over the curve of her hip. Behind and up. Fingers splaying over the small of her back. 

She sat on his lap to reclaim her wine glass. Her other hand resting on his shoulder. 

“Well...” she hedged, eyes wandering as she thought. Her gaze only fell back on him when she felt him take her left hand. His fingertip traced the lightbulb tattoo on the inside of her wrist. And then Itachi bent his head to kiss it. 

“You’ll have to persuade me to do that, Kumicho. The Sarutobi’s are currently helping me move a lot of product through Tokyo. They’re the opposite of a problem for me,” Sakura pointed out.

Itachi laughed, teeth showing past his lips. He kissed her palm before he pressed his cheek against it.

“You like shooting people, though,” Itachi reminded her. 

Lowering her glass, Sakura offered him a smile. 

“But you like that about me,” she pointed out. 

“That, I do,” he replied.

Neither of them was in a rush that night. He nuzzled into her neck, tickling her with kisses. She sighed. Finishing off her wine before she pushed him onto his back. She stared down at him, eyes soft as she set her glass on the nightstand. 

“What’re you in the mood for?” she inquired. 

His hand slid up the outside of her thigh, curling around her hipbone. 

“You,” he answered. 

Sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders, she smiled. 

“Alright,” she replied. 

He stayed the night. Some days he did- others he didn’t. She tried to pretend that she didn’t care either way. 

Her ear pressed to his chest, she never admitted how much easier it was to fall asleep with another set of breaths matching with hers. 

Itachi stirred, his eyes barely cracking open in the dark. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked her. Even though she knew that he couldn’t see her face. 

“Nothing,” she lied. And his sigh told her that he wasn’t fooled. His arm curled around her, hand stroking up and down her arm. 

“Do you want more wine?” Itachi tried.

“No.”

“A massage?”

She shook her head.

He blew out a long breath that ruffled her hair. And then his hand stilled. 

“Do you have any smokes?” he queried.

Wrapped up in blankets, they sat on the balcony. Listening to the rush of cars in the distance. Inhaling the fragrance of winter retreating. Soon, spring would settle over the city, cherry blossoms filling the skyline with pink petals. Coating the grass and the sidewalks. 

Itachi tilted his head, let her press the tip of her cigarette against his. He watched her through the rising wisps as the end of her cigarette ignited. The soft sizzle of paper whispering to them. She drew back first. Smoke seeped from the corners of her mouth, making his face blur for a moment. But then it dissipated. And his expression hadn’t changed.

Itachi’s eyes narrowed a little as he looked at her. His eyelashes cast pointed shadows across the tops of his cheekbones. 

“Are you happy, Sakura?” he asked her. Out of the blue. And the question caught her by surprise. She couldn’t even muster a half-hearted lie.

“Are you?” she questioned in return. 

Itachi was quiet for a long while. And then he raised and lowered one shoulder. 

“I’m not unhappy,” he told her.

And Sakura said nothing. Because she knew that if she tried to say even that, it would sound so obviously false. She just inhaled, letting the smoke fill her mouth so that words wouldn’t have to.

Confused? Read Eastern Suns here. 

Chapter 1 (here) | Chapter 2  | Chapter 3

[yoi-secret-valentines2017]

Baby, it's Cold Outisde

This is my Valentine Present for @vktorkatsuki! 

The moment his day had started, Yuuri knew that it would be one of those days. He was sure he had bombed an important test, he had forgotten his lunch, the moment he left the school building rain started to pour down and he just had missed his bus. Of course, he also had forgotten to take an umbrella along. Why would he? It was supposed to be sunny all day.

Drenched to the core, Yuuri entered the apartment complex he lived in. His glasses fogged up, and with a groan, he plucked the slippery plastic off his nose. He was ready for a hot bath, some food and a long night rest. Wiping his glasses clean, Yuuri started to climb the stairs.

Arriving on the third floor, Yuuri dragged his tired legs to his apartment. Well, shared apartment. To save costs, he and his friend Phichit shared the apartment. It wasn’t exactly fitted for two, but sharing a bedroom was the least of their worries as a student. Everything to save money, even if that meant he had to share a room with his best friend. Pulling the knob, Yuuri frowned and gave it another pull. Phichit was supposed to be home already, his lecture had finished around two, it was five by now. Unless…

Muttering under his breath, Yuuri pulled out his phone and re-read through the conversation he had with his best friend. Phichit wouldn’t come home today- he was staying at his boyfriend’s place. Trying to shrug off his steadily growing anxiety, Yuuri started to dig through his bag. He had his own key, there was no need to panic just yet.

By the time the hallway was littered with papers, books, stationary and a few odd items, Yuuri was inches away from panic attack. There was no key. Not in his bag, not in his pockets. He must have forgotten it in the morning rush, together with his lunch. Maybe he should just call Phichit. His friend would be disappointed, but Yuuri refused to sleep in the hallway. The floor wasn’t even comfortable, not to mention he was drenched to the bone.

He sought his neglected phone and pressed the home button, activating it. The screen flashed briefly, a pop-up appeared that the battery life was down to one percent. A second later, the screen went black. His phone just had given up on him, just like the rest of the world.

Was it possible to start this day over again? Yuuri would even willingly sell his soul to start over this day. Things couldn’t get much worse than this. With the emphasis on much worse.

Only when footsteps approached Yuuri knew this was officially the worst day of his life. Tearing his empty gaze away from his phone, Yuuri watched as someone entered the hallway. Great, now one of his neighbours could see his miserable state. His neighbours probably could compensate with him. Students have rough lives. However, Yuuri genuinely liked one of his neighbour. Unsurprisingly, that neighbour walked in on him.

“Hey, Yuuri,” his neighbour greeted, a bright smile on his face. “What are you doing outside?” the man cocked his head in subtle confusion.

He groaned in response, pressing his mop of wet hair against the wall. “Phone is death, Phichit is with his boyfriend, and I forgot my key,” Yuuri explained in one go, sounding as lifeless as he felt.

A sympathetic smile crossed his neighbour’s face briefly before a wide grin replaced it. “You can crash my place,” he chirped. “The couch is somewhat comfortable, and I can’t let you catch Hypothermia.”

Yuuri was taken aback by the man’s cheer, but there was no time to hesitate. As far as he knew, Victor was a good man. Polite, somewhat charming, a surprisingly good kisser. Though, the last fact was based on something he vaguely recalled. Their apartment complex somehow could throw the best parties, which was sometimes a blessing and a curse at the same time. And that’s how he had, at one point, made out with Victor Nikiforov. The worst part was that grey-haired student probably didn’t even recall, as things hadn’t changed between them.

“If it isn’t a bother,” Yuuri mumbled, pushing himself up. The spot he had been sitting the last ten minutes-or-so was completely and utterly drenched.

“It definitely isn’t,” the man assured, eyes lit with life. “I could use some company- living alone can be lonely sometimes.”

Yuuri offered Victor a kind smile before starting to pack his things. Realising what Yuuri was doing, Victor chipped in, helping the man gathering his stuff.

“You carry lube with you?” Victor asked curiously, picking up one of the few odd items Yuuri tended to carry with him. It was, thankfully, just plain lube and not some oddly flavoured one. However, it didn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

“Ah, yes,” Yuuri stuttered, feeling himself grow red in the face. “You never know when you need it,” or when your friends need it. It seemed everyone around him was getting laid expect him.

Victor’s humming response didn’t say much, but Yuuri made sure he was the one who picked up the packages of condoms and tissues. Stuffing the items back into his bag, Yuuri’s gaze fell upon a pile of things he didn’t even know he had. Why where there pads in his bag? He hadn’t a girlfriend since, well, forever.

“You girlfriend’s?” Victor asked, gathering the pads.

Yuuri shook his head, trying to recall why he had pads in his bags. “I think,” Yuuri murmured, finally having a faint idea why they were in his bag. “My friends were doing some kind absorption experiment- what could hold the most water. Apparently, I got stuck with the leftover pads.”

Well, making a fool of himself was one of his better qualities. Victor was surely regretting inviting him inside- he probably must think Yuuri was a total loser. Which, admittedly, he sort of was. His friends didn’t help much, as they were the ones who bought the pads in the first place.

Victor’s silence fuelled his anxiety even more. Nervously, Yuuri gathered the rest of his belongings with the help of Victor. His books needed to be dried, a few of his papers were death but thankfully, hadn’t brought his laptop along with him. That would’ve been an expensive mistake. Balancing too many items in his arms, Yuuri followed Victor inside his apartment.

“It’s a bit messy,” Victor admitted when they had entered the apartment.

Looking around, Yuuri could hardly complain. Yes, it wasn’t completely clean, but he had seen worse, much worse. He once had dared to enter two of his friends their apartment without any warning. It had resulted in a sight that made a pile of garbage look clean and organised and a permanent habit to call before visiting them.

“It’s hardly messy,” Yuuri assured, kicking off his drenched shoes and placed them at the door, well, tried to place them at the door. It was a bit tricky with his arms occupied. How did he even manage to get everything in his bag in the first place? The bag didn’t have endless inventory space like in some video games.

“You can drop your stuff on the couch,” Victor suggested, eyeing Yuuri’s occupied arms.

Smiling gratefully, Yuuri ventured further into the apartment, knowing the layout by heart. The apartment was small, one bedroom, a bathroom, a tiny hallway and a joined living, dining and kitchen. On second thought, it wasn’t that small considering that Victor didn’t have to share it with anyone.

Letting out a groan of relief, Yuuri dropped his school supplies on the unoccupied couch. Sighing contently, Yuuri stretched his arms, trying to get rid of the ache. His muscles groaned, and his bones popped slightly. Maybe he should get changed if he didn’t want to catch a cold, though, change into which clothes? He didn’t have his apartment key and his phone was dead.

Yuuri walked over to the kitchen, a nervous feeling pooling in his stomach. He was in the apartment of Victor. The handsome student he had made out at a party a few months ago. The student who probably had forgotten that he had made out with Yuuri. Though he couldn’t really blame him- Victor must have been pretty wasted to make out with him.

“Excuse me, Victor?” Yuuri mumbled, nervously scratching his neck. “Do you, maybe have you, you know…” this was going well.

Victor’s laugh was honestly the best thing in the world. The man’s eyes lit up, his face looking rather lively for a sleep-deprived student. “You can shower if you want,” he grinned. “Towels are in the cabinet I surely have some clothes that will-” Victor’s eyes wandered over Yuuri’s body. “Somewhat fit you.”

Smiling tiredly yet grateful, Yuuri thanked Victor and left the small living space. It wasn’t necessarily hard to find the bathroom, there wasn’t much ground he even could cover after all. Slipping into the room, Yuuri flicked on the light and started to strip down, throwing his wet clothes on a pile. He didn’t bother to lock the door- nobody had even bothered to make a lock on the damn door. On the other hand, the apartments were supposed to be for one person, so…

Familiar with how the shower worked, Yuuri turned up the heat and opened up the water supply. As water was rain down on the cheap shower tray, Yuuri plucked his glasses off his face, folded them and placed them on the sink. Opening up the cabinet, he retrieved a few towels, placing them next to his glasses. Now he was all set, he returned to the shower.

Steam was already clouding the room, and after quickly feeling if the temperature was right, Yuuri stepped into the cramped shower. The hot water stung against his skin, but it was all worth it. His muscles relaxed and the chill of the rain was slowly fading away.

After a short shower, Yuuri regretfully turned off the water supply. If it had been his own apartment, he definitely would have at least doubled his showering time. However, this wasn’t his apartment, and he didn’t have to pay the bills. And boy, Yuuri knew that these bills could become pretty darn high, especially for students who lived on cups of noodles and cheap coffee to get through college.

Carefully stepping out of the shower, Yuuri padded over to the sink, feet cold and slippery against the tiled floor. Plucking the first towel off the pile, he dried his hair. Placing the damp cloth in his neck, Yuuri tied a second towel around his hips and walked over to the door. Hopefully, Victor already had brought him some clothes. He wasn’t ready to walk around Victor’s apartment wearing only a small towel that covered his genitals.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, Yuuri looked around if he could find the clothes Victor had laid out for him. A small stack of clothes was neatly placed just around the corner. Carefully picking up the pile, Yuuri returned to the bathroom, hurriedly closing the door. A flush crawled up Yuuri’s neck when he realised that those were Victor’s clothes. Once in his life, Victor must have worn these. They probably wouldn’t fit Yuuri properly as Victor was at least two inches taller than him and Victor was build broader. He probably was going to look like some teenager who had bought his clothes with the idea of a steadily approaching growth-spurt in mind.

To his surprise, the clothes fitted somewhat well. The sweater was a tad too big, but it did hide his body-fats. The sweatpants were a bit loose and the sleeves a too long, but nothing that rolling up the sleeves couldn’t fix. Feeling refreshed, Yuuri slipped out of the bathroom and headed to the living area.

Returning to the small living area, Yuuri saw Victor running around in the kitchen, cursing under his breathe. He wasn’t sure what was more surprising. The fact that Victor was cursing or that the kitchen looked like a pigsty. How long had he been gone? Fifteen minutes? Twenty minutes? Yuuri had been sure the kitchen was clean when he had left to take a shower.

“Victor, are you okay?” the man turned around abruptly, sending some food flying, narrowly missing Yuuri.

“Yuuri, I’m fine, really,” the man frantically waved his arms, only to realise he was holding frying pan filled with said hand. This resulted in more food spilling.

Curiously, Yuuri started at the food that Victor had spilt. He wasn’t even sure what it was- it looked rather inedible. “Are you sure?” he knew he was being annoying, but it seemed that Victor wasn’t faring as well as he claimed to.

“I-” Victor pouted and placed the frying pan back on the fire. “I’m not the greatest cook,” the man admitted, a blush adorning his cheeks.

“I noticed,” Yuuri deadpanned. There was a brief pause before he felt himself grow rapidly red. “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, realising how rude he had sounded. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Thankfully, Victor was a good sport. The man laughed and turned off the fire. “Feel free to take it over from me,” the man grinned, his blue eyes alive with mischief.

Yuuri was baffled. This man wasn’t innocent, he had been plotting this all along. Well, at least, from the moment Yuuri had opened his mouth and asked about the man’s whereabouts.

“Sure,” Yuuri mumbled, trying his best to suppress his blush. It was the least he could do after Victor had offered him a warm shower and a place to sleep, and he was up for the challenge.

Victor clearly was surprised by Yuuri’s answer, but happily made room for the student to take over the reins in the kitchen.

Back into his element, Yuuri rolled up his sleeves and tied his hair together with an extra hair tie. The last thing he wanted was that his untamed hair would end up in their dinner.

“Would you mind to help me out?” Yuuri asked, not even looking at Victor. He was too busy inspecting the mess the older man had left behind. There was no saving this food. It was beyond repair.

“Sure,” the man sing-song. “Tell me what to do, Yuuri,” the way his name rolled off Victor’s tongue send a shiver down his spine. This man wasn’t innocent, a realisation that probabbly would cross his mind occasionally in the span of this evening.

“Throw this away,” Yuuri gestured to this frying pan. “It’s beyond saving.”

A feeling of victory briefly crossed Yuuri’s mind when a pouting Victor picked up the pan and dropped its contains in the trashcan. In the meantime, Yuuri collected everything to make a proper meal. Spaghetti was by far the easiest, especially as Victor had very little greenery in his arsenal. The student’s arsenal mostly consisted out of canned food and an unhealthy amount of cheap beer.

Yuuri placed a chopping board and knife on the counter and gestured Victor to come over. “Can you chop the onions and paprika? I’ll attend to the rest,” he honestly didn’t trust Victor to work with fire again, though handing the man a sharp knife didn’t seem to be the best idea either.

“I-” the man briefly hesitated. “Sure. How hard can it be?”

Ten minutes later, Yuuri concluded that chopping onions could be tricky. Victor had teared up several times and had managed to cut himself, twice. Embarrassingly, Victor had asked Yuuri to kiss it better, which made Yuuri question how he ever had considered Victor alluring and sexy. He was just a big dork who couldn’t even do something as simple as cutting vegetables.

Yuuri carefully wrapped the childish band-aid around the man’s finger. Victor was sniffing childishly, muttering that it hurt and that onions were spawn of the devil.

“All better,” Yuuri muttered, securing the band-aid. He wasn’t exactly a doctor, but he knew that this would suffice for now. The cuts thankfully weren’t deep.

“Thank you,” Victor beamed, carefully bending his injured finger. “I’m sorry for being such a bad help.”

Smiling awkwardly, Yuuri gestured that it was all right. “Don’t worry, I always cook for my friends, it’s fun and much better than doing the dishes,” a nervously giggled left his lips. He was making a fool of himself in front of Victor, again. Great. He might as well dig his grave.

“They are so lucky to have you,” Victor said sincerely. “A great cook- I live on everything microwaved- I don’t have the talent or time to cook.”

A bright hue coloured Yuuri’s cheeks red. “I’ve had plenty of practice, and I’m not the greatest cook, by far,” an embarrassed chuckle followed. “But if you don’t mind, I want to finish up dinner- overcooked spaghetti taste terrible.”

It was almost domestic. Yuuri dancing around the familiar kitchen, cooking up a meal with Victor keeping a conversation going. The student talked about literally everything, from his lectures and friends to an extensive description of how one girl completely freaked out because a spider had dropped on her papers from seemingly nowhere.

“I felt so bad for her,” Victor continued, helping Yuuri out with dressing the table. “By the time someone came to help her, she was in tears- eventually someone had to take her away because she couldn’t stop crying.”

Yuuri let out a regretful chuckle. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was pretty funny.

“Well, I’ve seen people cry over lesser things,” Yuuri chimed, placing the bowl with spaghetti on the small dining table. “A few months into my first year, I arrived home to find my roommate bawling his eyes out. It turned out his phone had given up on him- it had taken me hours before he finally had calmed down.”

A merry laughter rolled off Victor’s lips. With the table set, the two students took place, knees bumping together as they tried to fit. It was awkward, to say the least, and Yuuri desperately hoped that he wasn’t blushing. That would solely result in those awkward situations when one person asks if they’re okay, followed by the same person pressing their cold hands against the other’s forehead. It was so cliché, it actually did hurt.

“I wonder,” Victor mused, slowly munching on his food. “Are you and you roommate, you know… dating?” the man asked shamelessly. “I mean, you must be very close as you’re sharing such a small space together, there isn’t much space in the bedroom- I don’t even think a double bed fits.”

Victor’s well-intended explanation didn’t make things much better. Yuuri managed to choke on his food, resulting him in coughing loudly and rapidly growing red in the face. “We’ve a bunk bed,” Yuuri croaked, eyes watering. “And I’m pretty sure Phichit is in a steady relationship with some other guy.”

An ‘oh’ was Victor’s only response. “So you don’t wish to date your roommate? He isn’t exactly bad looking, though not my type.”

Yuuri wheezed and furiously wiped away tears. “No! Phichit and I are just friends.”

Victor quirked an eyebrow, but thankfully let the subject slide. Feeling anxious, Yuuri just jabbed at his food, lacking any appetite. Why was Victor even interested in what he did with Phichit? The two of them were just good friends. Yes, for a brief second, Yuuri had considered Phichit handsome looking. But like Victor had mentioned before, Phichit wasn’t exactly his type.

Frowning in confusion, Yuuri started at his food. Had Victor said that Phichit wasn’t his type? What guy did that? Yuuri knew that girls, even the straight ones, were rather open about whenever another girl was cute looking or not. Back in high school, a good friend of his admitted openly that she thought another girl was cute looking and would definitely be her type. Said friend was probably as straight as a ruler looking at her dating history.

But unlike girls, most men didn’t admit that a fellow guy looked cute or handsome. Unless they either were interested in men or didn’t care at societies standard for men.

“You like men?” Yuuri asked perplexed. He always had thought Victor had been straight, even after their kiss. Both had been pretty hammered anyway, and Yuuri wasn’t exactly masculine looking so he could be mistaken for a girl if someone was wasted enough.

Catching Victor’s gaze, Yuuri was greeted with surprised-filled blue eyes. “You probably don’t remember, and you probably don’t believe me,” a faint hint of sadness crossed Victor’s gaze. “I never have dated or even kissed a girl before. My first kiss was at a party a few months ago, with, well…”

Yuuri was glad he hadn’t eaten much. He felt like barfing. Hope and fear clouding his mind, his fingers were clutching tightly onto Victor’s sweater. Was Victor actually implying what Yuuri was thinking he was implying? Or was Yuuri just being hopeful- maybe Victor was referencing to another party, or maybe Yuuri was just another man Victor had kissed during that party?

“A guy,” Yuuri muttered, staring at his food. Me, he mentally added. But that seemed very unlikely. No way Victor was interested in someone like him, the stuffy guy from a few doors down who had managed to lock himself out of his apartment.

“You, though, like I said before, you probably don’t remember,” there was a certain chill in Victor’s voice. “You didn’t text me, and you weren’t behaving different, so I-”

With a loud crash, Yuuri’s chair fell back.  Slamming his hands down the table, Yuuri looked at Victor with new determination. “I remember!” he shouted, his cheeks coloured red with shame, embarrassment and slightly furry. “I thought you didn’t remember. I woke up with a hangover and an unreadable phone number written one my arm.”

Victor looked gobsmacked. His fork had fallen into his food, but the man didn’t even seem to notice. Yuuri wondered if the man was even breathing, as the only thing he could hear was his rapidly thumping heart and harsh breathing. Well, all it was now all or nothing.

“You remember?” Yuuri was taken aback by how small Victor’s voice sounded.

Nodding, Yuuri picked up the fallen chair and sat down again. “Vaguely, but yes. I remember kissing you, or you kissing me, I don’t remember that anymore.”

Victor let out a small laugh. “I was the one to kiss you,” he said, cheeks rapidly growing red. “Though you weren’t exactly protesting, so I thought the feelings were mutual.”

He shouldn’t have let his bed this morning- he wasn’t ready to talk about his big, fat crush on Victor, even as Victor probably returned them. It was too surreal- even if Victor liked him, it surely must have been mild interest on his part. There was no way Victor actually like like him.

“Well, the feelings are mutual,” Yuuri eventually admitted, nervously biting his bottom lip. “I do like you, a lot. For a while now. I just-” pressing his lips together, Yuuri forced himself to stop talking. All he currently was doing was fuelling his anxiety.

Victor’s eyes lit up, a happy smile crossed his lips. “Are you serious?” he asked excitedly.

“Of course I’m,” Yuuri snapped, nerves running trough his body. Why would he lie about that?

Ashamed for snapping for no reason, Yuuri downcasted his eyes, finding a sudden interest in his lap. The creaking of a chair followed, the table shook slightly, and a shadow crept over him. Victor was probably looming over him, presumably questioning why he even liked someone like Yuuri.

A gasp of surprise passed Yuuri’s lips when two hands gently cradled his face, tipping his head back, so he was looking straight into Victor’s eyes. Victor was awfully close, too close.

“Victor-” all the words died on his lips when Victor’s lips brushed against his. It couldn’t even be considered a kiss, the touch was so little, yet, Yuuri felt his heart bursting out of his chest.

“I like you a lot, you know,” Victor’s breath ghosted over Yuuri’s lips as he spoke. “Probably ever since the first time we met.”

Victor had liked him since the very beginning? They met over two years ago- even Yuuri hadn’t been smitten with Victor for that long. Did that mean the man had been pining over Yuuri for over two years? Two. Whole. Years. And Yuuri had been disappointed that Victor didn’t return his feelings, while it had been the opposite. There had been a time Yuuri didn’t return Victor’s feelings.

“Are you serious?” Yuuri sobbed, tears slowly starting to trickle down his face. “And here I though you didn’t return my feelings. Now it turns out I’ve been the villain all along.”

His tears were gently wiped away, Victor’s breathe still ghosting over his lips. “Can I?” the man asked, eyes bright with excitement.

Yuuri didn’t answer. His chair once again toppled over, landing with a soft thud against the carpeted floor. Gaining height by standing upright, he slightly forced Victor back. Victor’s grip on his face faltered and there, the right moment.

Within a matter of a few seconds, Yuuri threw his arms around Victor’s neck, pulling him close. Their lips smashed together in an awkward kiss, nose bumping, teeth clashing and Yuuri’s glasses was being pressed against his face, the plastic digging in his skin. But he didn’t care. This was probably his one and only chance to shamelessly kiss Victor before the latter would realise what kind of nerd Yuuri was. The kind of nerd who would coo over dog and cat videos and who was the reigning champion in Cards Against Humanity amongst his friends.

After a while, Yuuri parted from the kiss, breathing shallowly. Yes, he knew that he was supposed to breathe through his nose, but it was easier said than done when you’re kissing the man of your dreams. Though, in his dreams, Victor had been less dorky and more of a perfect husband. Though the dorky Victor was more endearing- he never had heard someone complain about onions being the spawn of the devil.

Victor fell back into his chair. Like Yuuri, he was breathing shallowly, his face flustered and lips red. “That was… intense,” the man sighed, leaning back into his chair, almost tipping it over.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri muttered, realising how forward he had been. Up until now, Victor had been very kind and gentle with him. He, unlike Victor, had basically latched himself onto Victor like a leech, merciless and hungry.

“For what?” Victor asked. “An amazing kiss?”

Snorting, he leant on the table, not daring to pick up the chair again. That poor piece of furniture already had suffered enough abuse from Yuuri throwing it around. “It was awkward.”

“What did you expect?” the seated man chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I never have kissed anyone before- unless you count the drunken party kiss- and I doubt you’ve had much more experience than I’ve.”

No, he hadn’t. Like Victor, the kiss at the party had been his very first kiss. This, of course, excluded his family. Family didn’t count.

“You know, I was wondering,” a cheeky grin crossed Victor’s face. “I think we might need that lube you carry with you- I don’t have any so…”

A flush heated up Yuuri’s skin. “We’re having dinner!” Yuuri exclaimed, his voice higher-pitched than normal.

Right, they were having dinner. Admittedly, Yuuri had little to no appetite left. By the looks of it, Victor hadn’t much appetite left either.

“Well,” Yuuri mumbled. “We’re supposed to have dinner.”

Yuuri almost jumped when Victor merrily laughed, his face alive and probably brighter than a Christmas tree. “I think neither of us is really in the mood to have dinner.”

“I guess you’re right,” Yuuri admitted, unable to contain his bright smile. “But that still doesn’t mean we’re going to make use of my lube, I expect at least three dates and a bouquet of flowers.”

A triumphant smile crossed Yuuri’s face when Victor pouted in defeat. “You’re mean,” the man muttered half-heartedly.

“Get used to it,” Yuuri teased. How exactly it had happened, he wasn’t sure, but he no longer felt nervous around Victor. Maybe this day wasn’t so bad at all.

The table groaned as Yuuri stopped leaning on it. Straightening his back, Yuuri picked up his half-empty board and gathered the cutlery. “Now, get your cute ass out of that chair and help me with the dishes.”

Victor stared at him in surprise, lips slightly parted like a fish on dry land. “You think I’ve a cute ass?” the man asked, almost sounding childish.

Feeling slightly flustered, maybe he wasn’t as confident as he thought he was, Yuuri nodded. “It’s kind of cute, I guess,” he added.

“I think your ass is kind of cute too,” Victor added shamelessly, grinning brightly. He didn’t even blush or showed any signs of being embarrassed. How was this man real?

“Thanks, I guess?” Yuuri mumbled. He took that back, this day was terrible. Victor probably would chip away years of his life span within the matter of a few hours. This guy was unbelievable, yet, maybe he rather lived a short life filled with Victor than living a short life without Victor, especially now knowing that Victor had liked him way before he had liked Victor.

~*~

Drowsy and bleary-eyed, Yuuri squinted against the harsh sunlight that streamed into the bedroom. He absolutely and utterly hated mornings, especially mornings he had to leave his bed early. Feeling for his phone, Yuuri eventually managed to find it and unplugged it from life-support. Victor thankfully had been kind enough to borrow him a phone charger, otherwise his phone would still have been dead.

Squinting at his phone, Yuuri stared at the picture of his friend with confusion. Why was Phichit calling so early in the morning? It was still a solid hour before Yuuri… oh. Never mind that, apparently Yuuri had forgotten to set his alarm, as the time was saying it was well past nine. Great, he had missed his morning lecture. Surely, one of his classmates would cover for him. Accepting the call, the picture of Phichit was replaced by the actual Phichit.

“Morning,” the man chirped. Phichit was like Yuuri still in bed, his hair mushed up and purple marks scattered around his naked shoulder and chest. Well, Yuuri wasn’t too surprised to see his friend like that. Phichit had weird… kinks. Was it a kink?

“Sleeping in? Didn’t you have a test today?” Phichit asked, actually looking surprised.

Yuuri hummed, stifling a yawn. The body pressed against his back moved slightly, thankfully, Victor just continued sleeping. “Forgot to set my alarm,” Yuuri admitted sheepishly. “And I’ve my test this afternoon, still plenty of time left.”

Phichit still seemed far from convinced. An exaggerated sceptical look had formed on his friend’s face. “That isn’t like you,” Phichit murmured. “Though I can’t say it’s a bad decision, you work too hard.”

Shrugging, Yuuri knew that his friend was right, though he would never admit that. He sometimes worked too hard, making days that shouldn’t be humanly possible. Though, to be fair, coffee and some cheap energy drink often did the trick.

Once again, Victor shifted around, only to turn around, pressing his face again Yuuri’s back. An arm snuck around his waist and pulled him close to Victor’s chest. Well, that far for keeping Phichit in the dark about his whereabouts.

Phichit’s jaw dropped, his eyes growing big with surprise. “You sly dog,” he whispered in amazement. “You’re secretly hooking up with people behind my back. Who’s the lucky guy.”

On cue, Victor started to speak. Or, well, tried. “Yuuri,” the man whined, rubbing his nose against Yuuri’s exposed neck. “It’s too early.”

“I know,” Yuuri murmured, gently rubbing the man’s hand. “Just go back to sleep, it’s just my roommate calling.”

Victor made a low, grumbling noise before falling asleep again. When Yuuri returned his gaze back to his phone, he was greeted by a blinding grin.

“You’ve slept with Victor Nikiforov?” Phichit squeals excited.

Yuuri shook his head. “Not slept, just shared a bed.”

Phichit looked briefly disappointed before his typical, easy-going smile returned. “How did you even end up in the same bed as Victor?”

“I forgot my keys, so Victor was kind enough to invite me in and, well… things happened,” Yuuri wasn’t exactly in the mood to share the details with Phichit. After all, he still could barely believe it himself. He, Yuuri, had kissed Victor, the Victor, that guy who probably could get any person as his romantic partner. Though, most people didn’t knew Victor’s dorky side.

Phichit’s expression wavered. Yuuri knew his friend was noisy, always trying to get his hands on the newest gossip. Therefore, eventually, Yuuri probably had to tell Phichit everything, the more details, the better.

“Come on,” Phichit urged, an eager look crossing his face. “Tell me the details.”

Groaning, Yuuri wanted to do nothing else then end the call. He knew, however, if he did that, Phichit would never drop the subject. Nobody did just hang up on Phichit. Thankfully, there was one person that could keep Phichit in check and that morning, he had been Yuuri’s lord and saviour.

“Phichit,” a drowsy voice grumbled, a mop of black hair and a pale face appeared in the background. “What did you promise?”

Yuuri’s friend pouted. “Babe,” he whined. “I’m talking with Yuuri- he finally-”

“I don’t care,” Phichit’s boyfriend said curtly. “No phone in bed, end the call or I will end the call.”

Phichit made another whining noise. “Everyone I love is against me- first my best friend and now my boyfriend,” the student glared at Yuuri. “Are you sure you don’t have some deal with my boyfriend? You Asian types are all-”

“Phichit,” the same voice warned.

Yuuri laughed at Phichit’s disappointed look. “Phichit, you’re Asian yourself,” he remarked amusedly.

“Touché,” the man retorted. “Anyway, see you later,” and with that, Phichit ended the call.

Somewhat relieved, Yuuri placed his phone back on the nightstand. While he had wanted to break the news to Phichit in a different way, this wasn’t too bad. Now his best friend had to walk around with the mental torture that Yuuri and Victor had shared a bed without knowing the details. The details were necessary for some like Phichit, he wouldn’t rest till he knew everything.

“Finally,” Victor murmured, nuzzling Yuuri’s neck. “I thought he never would stop talking.”

Yuuri chuckled and turned around, coming to lay face-to-face with Victor. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

A drowsy smile crossed Victor’s face. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. It means I’ve got more time to cuddle with you.”

Sighing, Yuuri pressed a chaste kiss on the older man’s lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured.

Victor made a faint noise and pulled Yuuri closer, tucking the latter’s head under his chin. “I won’t have classes till one.”

Yuuri nuzzled closer to the man, enjoying the contact. “Me neither, well, I already missed my first class so…”

Yesterday might not have been so bad after all. At least it wouldn’t be the worst day of his life, maybe, in the future, when walking down the aisle, Yuuri could consider yesterday the best day of his life.