#Like now they just know that annoying Drake kid being all smug about this form is actually a real life vigilante so

[starlooove]

No bc I’m going on a block spree for these posts and I’m getting offended FOR tim…like damn y’all really can’t think of shit else

[intercoursefluids]

The Impromptu Sleepover Part 2 (Final)

One day. All she asked for was one normal day. Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? A single completely average day is not too much to ask for.

Unless of course, you are Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Then it’s impossible.

People around Marinette start crying as Scarecrow walks into the room, mothers hiding their children behind them as everyone holds onto each other, scared of what’s to come.

Marinette shudders at the pure animosity radiating from the man-turned monster.

Adrien, ever the faithful friend, mistakes the slight shake as fear and shifts so he covers her from the villain’s view.

Everything is quiet before Scarecrow starts on his evil monolog (not that anyone cares).

Tuning him out Marinette looks around, trying to come up with a plan to get everyone out before a shrill scream and crying fill the air causing her to snap back around.

Some of Scarecrow’s goons are holding a woman back as a small boy is dragged up to the monster himself.

Grabbing the boys are he holds the trembling child painfully tight before reaching behind him and pulling out a canister.

Seeing as how Marinette planned this whole trip she made sure to know all about the local heroes and villains.

And the knowledge of what that bastard was going to do to that poor kid squashed any sense of self-preservation Marinette had.

Rushing forward she manages to make it past the few armed men standing between her and Scarecrow and rips the kid away from him just to get blasted in the face by the fear-toxin.

Ringing fills her ears as she collapses to the ground, voices shouting from the corners of her mind.

All of them shouting how they failed her, she should have done better. That she never should have been chosen.

One voice rings out crystal clear amongst all of the other roaring voices.

You said you would save me, M’lady. I should have known better than to trust someone like you. After all, you aren’t even worth the Ladybug miraculous. I have to say, I’m disappointed in you Bugaboo.

Her head jerks up at her partner’s voice, tears streaming from her eyes as she comes face to face with someone she never wanted to see again.

Chat Blanc.

Voices surround her as explosions sound in the distance. Her parents, her friends, everyone. All screaming at how she failed them, how she should have stopped when she had the chance.

Children’s cries fill the air around her, only these are different. They don’t echo from within her head, instead, they come from around her, slowly grounding her. Reminding her that this is just some monster’s trick.

The fear is still there, prominent as ever, but now her focus is on getting everyone out. She hasn’t failed yet.

Slowly uncurling from the ball she had formed she looks around. Forcing herself to see past the bloodied faces of people she failed to save.

All around her everyone is still the same, the hostages in the same places, same as the gunmen (even if they look smug at her suffering).

The only one missing is Scarecrow himself, and turning ever so slowly to face Chat Blanc her fears are confirmed.

In Scarecrows place stands her beloved kitty.

Pure unadulterated rage fills her as he dares wear her kitten’s face.

Lunging at Chat Blanc she hears the startled screams as she attacks him before the rushing in her ears takes over, leaving her deaf to the sound of shattering glass as the heroes arrive on the scene.

Having the advantage of surprise on her side she manages to pin him fairly easily tying his arms behind his back with her visitors’ pass before spinning around to help take down the rest.

An arm wraps around her, trapping her arms to her side as she struggles, a hand coming up to cover her eyes as she tries to getaway.

Quiet shushing and words of reassurance reach her ears causing her struggling to slow.

“W-who are you?”

Marinette winces at the tremor in her voice as she takes stalk of her surroundings.

Her head is tucked under their chin as their surprisingly strong arms hold her in place, one hand still firmly over her eyes.

“My name is Damian. I’m trying to help keep you calm until they can get you the anti-serum.”

She chuckles even as she shakes in his hold.

“It’s not normally a good idea to grab a girl from behind if you want her to calm down.”

He tenses slightly.

“Right, I didn’t think that through. Most people see what they are most afraid of so I thought if I took that away it would help you calm down.”

Marinette doesn’t reply for a while, opting to try and match his breathing instead of replying. All the while subconsciously leaning more against him.

“It’s working I’ll admit, you just went about it horribly. Can we sit down? I feel like my legs are about to give out.”

She feels him loosen his hold and fumble with something behind her before the hand over her eyes is replaced with a piece of cloth. He takes her hand leading her over to a wall before sitting and pulling her with him, tucking her into his side and draping something over her shoulders as her shaking picks up again.

“I’m sorry, can you tell me about yourself? It’ll help me keep my mind off of the panic.”

She feels him nod shifting again so she's leaning more against his chest.

“I have 3 older brothers. Richard, but everyone calls him Dick, Jason, and Tim. I lived with my mother until I was 10 so I’ve only known them for 6 years. They are all adopted but I don’t think anyone even remembers that half the time.”

Marinette can’t help the soft smile that takes over her face as she wraps her arm around him (why is he so warm???).

“You sound like you love them.”

He scoffs.

“Not in a million years, they’re annoying. Grayson is overly dramatic and a hopeless romantic, Todd is a trigger-happy hothead, and Drake is an insomniac, workaholic with a caffeine addiction.”

Marinette can’t help but giggle, her overwhelming fear slowly receding enough for her to think.

“They may be ‘annoying’ but they’re your family, I can tell you care about them.”

Damian makes an offended noise even as he wraps his arm around her rubbing her arm up and down.

“The only person in our family that I actually like is Alfred, he’s our grandfather and the only reason any of us are still alive, but, I guess they aren’t as bad as they used to be. Not that I'll ever admit that to them. Their egos are big enough as is.”

Marinette is about to respond when another voice cuts her off, causing her to cling to Damian as her heart rate picks back up frantically.

“Too late, I brought the anti-serum for your frie- Hey is she okay?”

Damian pulls her into his lap, rubbing her back even as he scolds the other person.

“She’s still being affected by the fear-gas dipshit! I just got her to calm down again, give me that!”

One of his arms leaves her body as he reaches away from her, he starts whispering to her again as something pricks her upper right arm.

It only takes a minute for the anti-toxin to work, causing Marinette to sag in relief against Damian as he keeps his arms around her.

“Seriously Todd! You should have known better than to startle someone like that!”

Marinette takes deep breaths of air, slightly surprised by the smell of Damian’s cologne before realizing she has her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re right. My bad demon-spawn.”

Damian scoffs adjusting Marinette in his arms so he can sit up instead of leaning against the wall.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, nitwit!”

Marinette sits up slightly kissing Damian’s cheek as she takes the makeshift blindfold off before returning to her earlier position.

“Thank you, Damian. You didn’t have to help me, much less stay with me and calm me down. You’re really sweet, you know that?”

His arms tense around her before cackling fills the air.

“Demon-spawn? Sweet?! I don’t know who you’re calling sweet but it’s most definitely not my little brother.”

Damian groans as ‘Todd’ keeps laughing, instead directing his attention to Marinette.

“Do you think you’re okay to walk? The cops will probably want to take a statement.”

She nods and they slowly rise, Damian, supporting her the whole time. Once she is finally standing up straight she turns to look at the boy who helped before coming face to face with the greenest eyes she’s ever seen.

Her breath catches in her throat as she meets his electric emerald eyes for the first time since they met.

They stand there, in complete silence before a camera flash breaks through their quiet bubble.

Turning towards Todd, Marinette studies his features.

Pale skin, blue eyes, and black hair with a tuffet of white at the front.

“What do you think you are doing,Jason?”

Todd now dubbed ‘Jason’ grins stepping away from his brother.

“Ooh, the first name. You only use that when you’re pissed. And I’m sending this to the group chat, no one will believe me if I say that you were civil with another human being!”

Damian glares.

“You have ten seconds to run, Todd.”

Jason wastes no time running away as quickly as humanly possible.

Damian goes to follow him but stops when Marinette grabs his arm.

“Help me over to the officers? I’m still a little shaky.”

His sharp glare softens as he leads her over to give her statement.

10 minutes later, they are both sitting on a bench waiting for the police to finish getting statements from the rest of the hostages and for the armored truck that will transport Scarecrow to arrive.

“One time when I was 11, Todd and Drake decided it would be a good idea to kidnap my turkey Jerry and hide him away after buying a raw turkey and cooking it for dinner. They said they found it wandering around outside and decided it would be a good idea to cook it.”

Damian shakes his head in fond exasperation.

“That is the closest I had ever come to crying in front of my brothers. I ended up running and telling Grayson what they did and he got so mad. They ended up fessing up that it was just a prank and they didn’t mean to actually make me upset. They ended up going out and buying a bunch of junk food and pizza before we had one big movie night together.”

“We all ended up falling asleep in the living room all piled on top of each other. Father was so surprised when he came home and he didn’t even send us to bed. He got changed and joined us in the living room. We all ended up sleeping in a giant pile on the floor that night while Alfred took the couch.”

Marinette smiles up at Damian, he had been telling her about himself ever since she had asked him to and she honestly enjoyed it.

“They sound wonderful Damian. Hey, when do you think they are going to-.”

“Mari!”

Marinette is cut off by one of her favorite blondes as he latches onto her body.

“When you rushed forward I tried to follow you and ended up getting hit with the gas and had a panic attack, and then when they gave me the serum I couldn’t find you and had another panic attack, and they couldn’t calm me down for a while and then they had to take my statement but I still couldn’t find you and I’ve been freaking out the whole time. What the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

By the time Adrien finally stops rambling his head is in Marinette’s lap and his arms are wrapped around her waist.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, but you shouldn’t have even followed me, that was dangerous and stupid and your dad would destroy me if anything happened to you.”

Adrien snorts.

“If you don’t want me to follow you then don’t take off running.”

Marinette groans, not acknowledging the fact that she is still leaning against Damian.

“Adrien, you are far too ride or die for your own good.”

Adrien sighs, leaning back to look at his best friend.

“Yeah well, Chloe is probably gonna kill us both if we don’t get back to the hotel soon. She heard what happened and has been blowing up my phone since I came to. Ms. Bustier won’t let her leave though.”

“We are so dead. She’s going to actually kill me this time. Damian? Would you like an invite to my funeral? You’ll need a tux.”

Before Damian can even try to respond Adrien cuts him off.

“Oh! There's another person here… Who saw me acting dramatic…. Oh no.”

Adrien's pale face contrasts brightly with Marinette’s, which is bright red from restraining her laughter.

“Okay, okay this is fine. It’s fine. We have two options here, A: We kill you so you can’t spill our secrets or B: You become our friend and are kept under surveillance.”

Damian raises an eyebrow at him not even bothering to acknowledge how dramatic he is still being.

“No.”

Marinette finally breaks, cackling like a witch she rips a piece of paper from her ever present sketchbook and writes her number down.

“Here, this is my number in case you want to stay in contact. Come on Adrien, Chloe is going to kill us.”

She grabs Adriens arm and starts to run, ignoring his protests of ‘He knows too much to be left alive!’ in favor of trying to make it back to the hotel with her other favorite blonde.

She didn’t see the soft smile Damian sent her way as he puts her number in his phone…

But Jason did, and soon will ever other wayne if the video he sent to the family group chat had anything to say about it.

[a-sketchy-a-day]

Made another dragon Beetlejuice drawing. With the added bonus of Lydia, and a dragon Barbara and Adam!

Read below the cut for an entire AU.

Okay, so it takes place in a universe where dragons exist (...obviously). There are drakes, wolfhound to horse sized wingless dragons that are quite common pets. Then there’s the rider dragons, which can only be owned by members of certain special guilds and orders. And then there’s the monster dragons, vicious, untameable, and told to poses powers.

Lydia is the child of a dragon rider, and thus she had a right to get a dragon of her own. So her mother, Emily, helps her pick out the egg of her future dragon and instructs her how to take care of it. But one day while out flying, Emily's dragon Sunny got struck during a lightning storm, killing them both.

Lydia devoutly continues to take care of the egg, but weeks after it was supposed to hatch, there is still no movement. When they get to the guild to get it checked out they find the hatchling had died just a month into development.

They instantly see it as a bad omen, that first her mother and then her dragon would die. Surely it is too mean that death will follow the child everywhere. Because if this they are seriously considering to banish the grieving girl.

Charles and his new partner Delia come to her defence though, the later insisting that maybe the dragon’s death means that she was never meant to have a common dragon. After all the first riders and some great heroes found their dragons in the wilderness. So with that, Lydia is sent to the forrest, not to return until she finds herself her ‘destined' dragon.

But, having lost her mother, having her father replace her, and with the last connection he had to her gone, Lydia has already lost her will to live. Instead, she has set path for the cliffs of a mountain nearby.

Barely the second day into her journey she meets two drakes, a copper brown one and a teal one, who instantly seem to get attached to her. They accompany her on her travels, hunt for her, make sure she stays warm at night. And honestly, Lydia is glad to have friends on her last few days. She calls the teal, female dragon Barb (because her spines point in the wrong direction), and the male Adem (‘Add ‘em’ because of his extra pair of limbs). While camping out in a cave to hide from another thunderstorm, they hear a threatening rumble. Out of the darkness slowly crawls a monstrous dragon with a fiery red mane and jaw, gleaming green eyes, and twin striped tails. Both Barb and Adem crawl back and curl up in fright, trying to pull Lydia with them, but she simply stands there staring at the beast thinking: "Hu, guess this is how I die than.” It blinks at her a few times, confused that she isn’t running, before making a lunges at her. Still no reaction. He towers over her, paws at the ground around her, snarls and snaps his jaws, but she doesn’t even flinch at the flames from his nostrils, and the deep roar that sends saliva flying at her simply get’s a dry: “Gross…" And as Lydia stares at the brute with a: ‘You gonna kill me yet or what?’ look on her face, it suddenly flops down, mane turning green in a flash, and only one single mantra going through the monster’s head: ‘New best friend, new best friend, new best friend, new best friiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeend!’ And thus the party became four.

At first Lydia tries not to care, but it’s annoying how the giant dragon just keeps following and ‘purposely badly hiding every time they turn around to look’. He doesn’t even seem to mind Lydia’s gloomy mood, and takes every frustrated scream and smack she gives him a delighted grin. But the times she apologises for her outbursts or plays with his mane, he looks downright over the moon. Eventually Lydia reaches the cliffs. She looks down over the edge, causing Adem to nervously takes her dress between his teeth so she won’t fall. She backs up again, making the drake let go, she takes a few steps away…and makes a running leap into the deep. This is it, this is what she came here for. She can hear Adem and Barb’s frightened cries behind her, but they’ll be okay. Dad and Delia will figure it out, maybe they’ll have a kid of their own, and they’ll be non the wiser about what happened to her. And she’ll be okay too. Wherever her mom is, she’ll be there soon too. And then a pair of red claws wrap around her, thunderous wingbeats in her ears. At first Lydia is furious that, whatever she tries, BJ (Big Jerk) won’t let her die. Anytime she jumps, he catches her. Anything deadly she tries to attract he scares away. Venomous plant spotted? Oh, it’s on fire now. But then it sorta becomes a game, and honestly she’s mostly just challenging him now. She tries to deprive herself of sleep, but he just curls his tail around her to keep her still and despite being dirty and smelling weird, his mane is supper soft and warm. Hard to stay awake under those conditions. At one point when they sit down to eat, Lydia hesitates, puts the roasted rabbit back down, and gives BJ a smug look. Next thing she knows she blinks back to consciousness, fat and meat juices smeared across her face and hands, Adem and Barb looking at her with wide, horrified eyes, and BJ giving her an equally smug look back.

One day another rider flies over the spot where they are resting. Lydia stares after them with wistful eyes. Suddenly she is snatched up by the back of her dress and plopped down to grab hold of think green fur. There is a moment of calm while Barb and Adem get plopped down between the larger dragon’s shoulders too. And then they launch into the air. Lydia used to fly with her mom now and then. It never failed to make her laugh, to lift her spirits. Sometimes they’d fly to close over another rider’s head to give them a good scare. Sometimes her mom would take her hands off the leads with a loud ‘Don’t wanna fly anymore’, so Lydia could take over and try it out. Those were some of the few places or times that felt like she belonged. Sure, BJ isn’t Sunny, neither Barb nor Adem is her mom, but for the first time since that fateful storm, she feels a tiny bit closer to home again. So she gently spurs BJ on and pulls his mane, and the curious dragon lets himself be steered right on top over the other rider. They notice the dark shadow appearing over their head, despite the clear skies. They darn near soil themselves when they notice the giant predator hovering over them. Lydia can’t stop laughing at the reaction, and ‘BFFFF forever!' keep echoing progressively louder through BJ’s head. Deciding that maybe continuing to live isn’t too bad after all, Lydia steers BJ back into the direction of her village.

When they return, at first the council is disappointed to see Lydia walk in with two drakes. It doesn’t last long though, as a gargantuan form follows on her heels. Because you know, the monster dragon she brought with her is a Striped Demon. They posses great powers, even to twist the world around them to their wishes. Only the cruelest and strictest of men had ever attempted to tame them. Needless to say, the only people who ever managed to ride one quickly became dark lords. And most of them didn’t live very long. Now, with one of those legendary dark beasts happily doing as she asked, they fear that that dark omen from before is less ‘bad fortune will strike those around her’, and more ’next dark queen’. (Which way it will go depend on whether you’re a ’step on me dark lady’ lesbian, or a cottage-core one.)

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

Happy Mother’s day to all the mothers and motherly figures out there! This story is kind of inspired by my relationship with my older sister, who was honestly more of a mother to me than our actual mom. She’s awesome and I wish I could see her today but quarantine sucks lol. 

Also, too me Logan Lerman is Tim. He’s just so awkward and cute and nerdy, and I think he’d be a great Tim. 

Mother’s Day pt.1           

 “What the hell are you doing, Drake?” Damian’s snippy voice cut through the empty living room like a knife.

           The once comfortably silent room, now held an awkward and thick tension as Tim Drake popped his head up from his work, annoyed at being interrupted.  He looked back down at the paper and other supplies cluttered around the coffee table for a moment, not even embarrassed at being caught. It was a normal thing that he started doing shortly after moving into Wayne Manor all those years ago; Damian was still the one who was the odd one out.

           “Making Mother’s Day cards; what else does it look like?” Tim rolled his eyes, motioning his hand with a slight wave to the finished card at the edge of the table. That one was meant for his mother, he made sure to finish it first, wanting to drop it off at the post office tomorrow after school so it’d get to her in time.

           “Tt.” Damian shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest. He took a seat at the other end of the couch to look over the older boy’s work.

           Damian Wayne wasn’t the type for such sentiment. He scoffed at the idea of Mother’s Day. Could you just imagine him, an al Ghul, giving his mother a card? Though, he didn’t put it past someone as pathetic as Drake to be one to celebrate the commercial holiday. Even Grayson and his father celebrated, and their mothers were dead. They’d both journey to the cemetery and placed roses on their mother’s grave. But that made much more sense to Damian, than making a card, they were paying their respects, while Drake was just giving his mother a worthless piece of paper.

           “A simple piece of paper will really satisfy your mother? Tt.” Damian leaned back into the couch, arms still crossed but now lifting his leg to rest on his other thigh.

           “Yes. It. Will.” Tim gritted, not in the mood for Damian’s taunting and insults; he was actually in a genially good mood for once.

            He moved to open his mouth again, clenching the marker in his hand tightly; who did this kid think he was? He was glad the kid was over his phase of trying to actively kill him but he still found pleasure in making Tim’s life miserable. He tried closing his mouth, not wanting to get into it again but the third Robin still felt the need to defend himself against the spoiled blood son. He pushed the disappointed look Bruce would surely show him away after the old man would end of having to break up another fight between the two boys.

           “I’m not just giving her card; I’m also sending her a gift card to her favorite restaurant and another one for a trip to this day spa. It makes her happy and since I’m not around I want to make sure she knows I miss her. You know like normal mother and son stuff, not that you would know anything about that.”  

           Tim cursed to himself as soon as the bitter and smug words left his mouth. Shit.  He went too far; the dead silence that followed told him that much. He didn’t dare look up to see Damian’s face. He could practically feel the scowl, the deadly glare, beaming into the side of his head; it was like he was being blasted by Superman’s laser beams. Maybe that was being a little dramatic but Tim knew he shouldn’t have said that. He was better than stooping that low and saying something that brash. Even with the pair being fair from close, barely even being on speaking terms, Tim still knew how sensitive Damian was about his relationship with Talia.

           He was half expecting to feel a punch come down from him, or a shove, anything that would physically harm him in response but much to Tim’s surprise he was just met with Damian’s signature sound, ‘Tt’, and then him shifting in his place. Tim scratched the back of his neck, unsure why Damian reacted so calmly, not that his body and pride weren’t complaining. He mentally shrugged and went back to making his second card.

           The younger boy watched as Tim got back to work. He wanted to lash out at Drake’s dig at him and his mother’s relationship but Damian didn’t want to give Drake the satisfaction of knowing that he was insulted. He thought back to his father’s speech after their last fight about how they both needed to learn how to be the bigger person. Damian rolled his eyes at the memory and instead quirked an eyebrow up as he watched Tim begin to get back into making what appeared to be a second Mother’s Day card.

           “Correct me if I’m wrong but last time I checked you only had one mother, Drake.” Damian said, nodding towards the second card.

           “You would be correct.” Tim nodded, not looking up this time as he spoke. He reached for the blue Sharpie instead, filling in the bubble letters he wrote with it.

           “Then why are you making another card? Did you realize how stupid that other one is and are starting over?” Damian pressed, leaning back once again to get comfortable.

           Tim huffed, already over this conversation. It was times like this that he wished Dick and Halley still lived at home. Damian would be Dick’s shadow if he was here and not bugging him like this. With Halley, she’d swoop in the moment she felt a fight forming and would’ve gotten the demon spawn to shut up by now. But now that they were the only two left living at home Damian was all Tim’s problem. Maybe it was time to go back to the Titans?

           “No, my mother’s card is done. This is for someone else.” Tim said, using his minimum art skills to draw a decent flower next to the y in Day. He huffed again when Damian responded immediately asking who specifically it was for. Tim let the marker drop from his grasp, losing his nerve. Rubbing his head, he pushed the hair fallen in front of his face out of his face, letting out a deep breath. Why did he care what he was doing? Damian has shown more interest in his current activity than he’s shown in anything in Tim’s life since they met.  “It’s for Halley.”

           “Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes, smirking. “Halley isn’t your mother, Drake.”

           “No, but since I’ve moved here, she’s always been there when I need her and she’s done so much for me so this is my way of thanking her and showing that I love her.” Tim let himself get cocky again, snipping right back at Damian. He put emphasis in his speech, knowing that not only was it true but it would rub Damian the wrong way. “I do this for her every year and every year she gets all mushy and loves it.”

           Damian narrowed his eyes at the older boy. Was Drake questioning his relationship with his older sister? They may only be half siblings but that was more blood than she shared with anyone in the bat family. When the pair first found out they shared the same mother, Damian had been less then enthused about no longer being an only child and furious at his mother for failing to mention her having a child with Deathstroke. Halley had been just as shocked and angry, but at her father for never telling her. She wasn’t surprised but still angry. Though unlike him, she quickly rushed to try and get closer to the boy. Even though Damian wanted no part of it, Damian was clearly her favorite brother; right?

           Drake said this was a yearly thing but why has he never noticed before? He did know that they would occasionally spend what they grossly called Mandatory Sibling Bonding Day together, where’d they’d go out just the two of them, much to the annoyance of Damian. He didn’t understand why she wasted her time with Drake; what could they possible do for fun together? Granted, she did do the same with Grayson whenever they were around at the same time. The pair of them also being close, Grayson having been the one to help get her out of her old life with her father, Slade Wilson.

           Damian thought about how his sister had a close personal relationships with all the Robin’s and Batgirl’s, even the failure that Damian deemed as Stephanie Brown; Halley was close to them all, all but him. Though that wasn’t completely true, they did have somewhat of a bond. They both had what she phased as shitty-ass parents, her father being Deathstroke himself while his was the Dark Knight, and they shared the same mother, Talia al Ghul. They’d never known about the other until Damian was brought to live with his father by their mother and Halley had long been taken in by Dick and Bruce.

           He still remembered their first meeting, they hadn’t yet known about sharing the same mother but yet she was still eager to accept him. He of course didn’t share her gusto, especially after Slade revealed that Talia was her mother after he attacked the League of Assassin’s and killed his grandfather. Damian wasn’t keen on having an actual sibling, especially one with the blood of Deathstroke. But they also shared the same al Ghul blood and was quite the efficient fighter. But they were both incredibly set in their ways and persistent, as she was dead set on getting the younger boy to open up while he was dead set to prove that he was the most worthy al Ghul.

           It infuriated him enough that she said she didn’t care about being an al Ghul, having  no memories of being with the League of Assassin’s, as Slade and Talia agreed that she would go off to live with her father for her training. Damian said she was unworthy of the blood they shared and she didn’t deserve it. Though even now, he wouldn’t admit it but sometimes he swore he could still feel the pain from the beating she gave him when he tried to kill her in her sleep his first few months staying in the manor whenever he looked her way.

           That was something he admired about his sister, again not like he would ever admit it, but her persistence was something he looked up to and even came to appreciate. Even after trying to kill her, being cruel, and treating her like how she treats Drake, at first even worse, she never gave up on him; a feat that no one else could say they’ve come close too; perhaps Grayson, but there were times where even the star-child of Bruce Wayne’s collection of wayward children would walk away from Damian’s outbursts because he simply had enough of the all give an no take. But not Halley; she’d stay every single time and with that she’d even give him a smile at the end of it.

           She understood what it was like. Being raised by Slade Wilson was basically the same as being raised by Ra’s al Ghul. They never had a conversation about it, Damian always calling her a fool, she didn’t know what his childhood was like and then brushing her off. But who was Damian kidding? She made her first kill by age eight, so did Damian. She had expectations placed on her that no child should’ve been held up to, as did Damian. They shared bruises, scars and nightmares.

           Grayson had tried with him, after his father failed but Halley was the one who truly helped him adjust to this new life he found himself in without even knowing it. What Grayson and his father didn’t understand was that you just couldn’t stop being who you were raised to be in a second, it took time, and Halley had been through the same transition. Granted she was looking to escape the life she had with her father whereas Damian was forced to be with his by his mother, but there were just some habits that where hard to break.

           “You good there?” Drake’s voice cut Damian out of his thought process.

           Damian snapped out of it, narrowing his eyes down at the card, noting Tim had stopped working on it and was looking at Damian as if he was a frozen computer screen. Scoffing, standing up to his feet, he uncrossed his arms, pointing a finger at the card for his sister. Trying to hid the fact that Drake caught him in such a deep thought, he cleared his throat before sneering,  

           “Her favorite color is purple, not red.”

           Tim watched, mouth left agape as Damian made his way out of the room without another word. He took another look down at the card and grunted, reaching for a new piece of paper, getting ready to start all over again. What a kid, he thought as he got back to work.

[cdelphiki]

It was all Drake’s fault.  

Of that, Damian had no doubt.  How it was Drake’s fault remained to be seen, but it certainly was not Damian who gave away their location, causing them to be outnumbered and subdued.  By a drug lord’s cronies, of all things.

Not even a big-named villain.  

But drug dealers.  

And now, Damian was kneeling on the ground, next to a mostly unconscious Red Robin, his hands tightly bound behind his back to his legs.  No amount of pulling at the cuffs were helping them come loose, and it was maddening.  He didn’t even have enough mobility to try to pull out the lock picks he kept hidden in his sleeve.  

“Quit struggling, boy,” a new voice sneered from Damian’s left, “my men cemented the lock, it’s not coming off.”

Scowling, Robin hissed, “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“Shove it, kid,” one of the thugs said, just as his boot collided with Damian’s head.

Damian wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he next came to.  He was laying on the ground and his left arm was asleep.  So it’d probably been at least ten minutes.  

And now, his head was on fire.  No, it was worse than on fire, it felt like someone was stabbing him from inside.  Like his brain was expanding and pushing against the skull, seconds away from exploding.

He knew he was being dramatic, of course.  It was just a concussion, but he was allowed to be as dramatic as he wanted inside his own head.  Especially when this was all Drake’s fault.

Once they got out of there, Drake was dead.  

“There we go,” a gruff voice said from about six feet in front of Damian.  

Robin didn’t want to alert his captors to his regained consciousness, not yet, so he kept his eyes shut.  Besides, he just knew the lights in the warehouse were going to be a bitch on his headache.  And he’d like to delay the inevitable as long as possible.  

Then Drake groaned and mumbled out a pathetic, “wha’re you doin’,” and Damian could hear what sounded like someone being dragged across the floor.  So he probably should open his eyes and check.

He needed to know what the idiots were doing with Red Robin. Father would not be very pleased if Damian let the moron die.

“Wha’ you jus’ do,” the teen mumbled from where he was now sitting on the opposite side of the room, and if Damian could see Drake’s eyes, he was sure he’d be blinking slowly and blearily.  

“Just give it a minute,” one of the thugs sneered.  There were five of them in the room, two standing at the doorway, two on either side of Red Robin, and the fifth standing in front of Red Robin with his back toward Damian.

That was a mistake on his part.

Or… it would be.  If Damian could freaking move.  He pulled at his restraints again, and used the momentum to get back up onto his knees.

“Looks like the little one’s awake, Boss,” one of the lackeys said, and Damian wanted to roll his eyes.  

But he knew that would just make his head hurt worse, so instead he scoffed, “Tt, impressive deduction skills.”

“Don’t worry, little guy,” ‘Boss’ said, “you’ll get your turn next.”

“My turn with what?” he asked darkly, narrowing his eyes at Red Robin.  What, exactly, were they doing to him?

At the moment, it appeared to be nothing.  No one was even touching the imbecile, just standing around him.

“Our newest creation, of course,” Boss said happily, and Damian was having flashbacks to moments spent around Scarecrow or the Joker.

What was with loons in Gotham and their obsession with weird drugs?

“Oh,” Red Robin said dreamily, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “hehe.  This’s good.”

“What did you do to him?” Robin demanded a bit more forcefully, “what did you give him?”  Drake did not giggle.  And he rarely smiled in such a… a… weird way.  Light?  No, Drake’s smiles were usually either kind or smug.  Not carefree and happy.

“Hush, child,” Boss said, waving a hand at him.  

Damian saw red and started thrashing against his restraints. They were all dead.  All of them.  

Not dead dead, of course, but dead.

“Ha,” Drake laughed, “you called him ‘child.’  He hates that.”

“Oh yeah?” Boss asked, “What does he prefer to be called?”

Drake snorted and lulled his head to the side. “He don’t like any nicknames.”  

“Is that so?” Boss looked back at Damian and shot him a sly smile. “So what is his name?”

Damian narrowed his eyes at Red Robin.  He had no idea what that drug was doing to him, but hopefully loosening his lips was not included.  Because if it were… well then.  Maybe they were all dead dead.  

“Demon,” Drake said, grinning wide now.  

“Fuck you, Red,” Robin growled, tugging at his asleep arm.  He couldn’t really feel anything in it, anyway, might as well take advantage of that and force it free of the restraints.

“Tsk tsk,” Red Robin chided, “Batman wouldn’t approve of that language.”

That made the Boss raise an eyebrow, “And what about Batman?”

Red Robin shifted and turned a happy-go-lucky smile toward the Boss.  “What about him?”

“Who is he?”

“Red, stop talking,” Damian hissed.  

In response, the Boss nodded his head to one of the goons, who walked over and lifted Damian off the ground a bit by his hair.  “Shut it, kid.”

“Hey,” Red Robin shouted, “Don’t be mean to my little brother.  Only I get to be mean to him.”

Damian growled as he wiggled his way out of the man’s grasp.  He was not little and they were not brothers!  What the hell was that drug doing.  

Luckily, all his hair stayed on his head when he finally won his freedom.  That would have hurt like a bitch.  As it was, the rough treatment was doing nothing for his headache.

Boss ignored Damian and asked, “So then tell me, who is Batman?”  

Tim bounced his head back and forth and blurted out, “He’s my dad,” in an extremely chipper tone.  Just the sound of it made Damian want to gag.  He really hoped they didn't give him the drug, because he'd rather die than act the way Drake was behaving.

“Who is your dad?” Boss pressed.

Imitating Father’s gravel, Tim said, “Batman,” then fell to his side in a fit of laughter.  

Yes. Die.

“Very amusing. What is Batman’s real name?”

“Batman's real name,” Red Robin repeated, looking over at Damian pleadingly.

“Yes, what is it?” the Boss asked patiently.  

And Damian could tell Tim was actually really struggling to not speak.  Obviously, whatever was going through his system had some sort of truth serum in it.  Something to mess with his dialogue filter and force him to blurt the first thing that came to mind.  That renewed Robin’s determination to break free.  He knew his idiot of a colleague was pretty strong, but if he were at the point of struggling and begging Damian for help, there was no telling how much longer he’d last.

“Oh!” Red shouted, “Did you know that it’s possible to not have a middle name?  And it’s actually really common in some parts of the world?  How weird.”

The thugs exchanged a puzzled look with one another, and Damian used the distraction to his advantage.  Clenching his jaw, he pulled his thumb inside his left fist and squeezed as tight as he could.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the pain to seep out with his breath as the thumb snapped.  Slipping his now broken left hand out from the cuffs silently, he looked around, forming his plan of attack.

“Okay,” Boss said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “Can you tell us what your name is?”

“My name?” Red asked, cocking his head.

“Yes. Your name.”

Tim grinned and said, “It’s Red Robin!  It’s like Robin, but red.  Because I have a red uniform, see?”

The boss was growing impatient, just like Damian, and demanded, “What is your first name?”

At that, Damian sprang to his still bound feet and knocked the goon guarding him out with a well placed kick to the head.  Using the guy’s head as a springboard, he vaulted his way across the room, making quick work of all the idiots.  

He was sick of this stupid interrogation and it took less than a minute to incapacitate all five men.

And no, they were not dead dead.  Damian did make sure, however, that each man would wake up with a headache just as bad as his.

Damian hopped over to where Drake was lying and dragged him up to his knees.  

“Hop hop hop like a bunny,” Tim sang once he was sitting up, and it took a lot of self control for Damian not to just knock the moron back over and make him sit up on his own.

He looked around and found a chain cutter against the wall and cut the chain linking his feet together, then Tim’s chains so he could stand. “Get up, Red.”

“Those guys really like names,” Tim said as he took Damian’s offered hand and stood, “whoa the world is spinny.”

“Yes,” Damian drawled, keeping his not broken hand clasped around Tim’s forearm while he led them out of the warehouse.  He managed to dig around in his belt for his back up comm with his left hand and called for Batman, giving the man a quick synopsis of Drake’s condition.

“ETA four minutes,” Father responded crisply. And wasn't that just perfect.  Damian was going to have to withstand a lecture from Batman because of stupid Drake.  

“I like names, too,” Drake continued, stumbling along behind Robin, “Your name is funny.   We can call you James or Jamie.  Wait.  No.  that’s not right.”

“Silence, Red,” Damian barked, looking around for good cover.  He wanted to get them up a bit higher, but wasn’t sure how feasible that was.  He felt extremely exposed and vulnerable on the ground with a broken hand and high Tim Drake.  In the end, he decided to cross the street and slip into an alley where there were a couple dumpsters that should do a decent job concealing them.

Drake ambled along behind Damian, allowing him to pull him toward the alley.  “Heh.  Red.  Red Robin.  Red Hood.  Redbird.  Red X.  We should be called the red-family.”

“Keep moving, Red,” Damian snapped, annoyed.

“Oh!  We should call you Green Robin to add more colors to the family.  Or Black Robin?  Does that sound racist?  It’s because of all the black on your uniform.  Or Robin Hood!” Tim cut off his ramble to let out a high-pitched giggle, “because you wear a hood.”  

Damian sighed audibly and let go of his idiot of a not-brother to lean back against the wall in the alley.  His head wasn’t hurting as bad as it had been, but the weariness of the injury along with all the aches and pains his captivity had caused were catching up to him.

At least he wasn’t high as a kite like Drake, though.

“Then we’d all match.  I’m Red Robin, Red Hood, and Robin Hood.  We’d all share names.”

“Yes,” Damian drawled, pushing Drake a bit more out of sight, between the two dumpsters, because the moron was in no condition to fight, “very amusing.”

“B would never call us by the right name.  Ever.  It’d be so funny.”

“Tt.” Damian huffed, putting a hand up to his ear, “Batman, what is your location?  Red requires medical attention.”

“Two minutes.  How severe are his injuries?”

“Physically he is intact.  Mentally, however, is another story,” Robin reported, giving the teen a sideways look.

Tim stumbled forward, and without thinking Damian lunged forward to catch him, draping one of Tim’s arms around his shoulders to help support him.  “Would you quit moving?” he snapped, trying to push him back into the gap between the dumpsters.

Giggling again, Tim slumped further onto Damian and wrapped his other arm around.  “You’re my annoying little baby brother.”

“Knock it off, Drake,” Damian growled lowly, trying to free himself from Tim’s grasp.  Punching him while he was in that state would probably be incredibly rude and lecture-worthy.  

But the teenager was insufferable.  

And where the hell was this even coming from?  They were not brothers.  Tim was very clear on that on multiple occasions.  And Damian agreed.  They were not brothers. And yet Drake kept insisting on calling him 'little brother' tonight.  It was infuriating.

Drake was just an imbecile that Father considered a son.  Just like Grayson and Todd.  Grayson was the only acceptable one of the lot, and therefore the only one he would consider a brother.

“I love you anyway,” Drake added, letting go of the child.

“Tt.” The faster Father got there, the better.  He was so done with this annoyingly chipper and chatty Drake with all his stupid words and emotions.

And, as if the powers-that-be could read his thoughts, the Batmobile pulled up.  As Nightwing stepped out of the Batmobile, Tim perked up.  Damian would never admit he, too, was extremely pleased that Grayson had accompanied Father.

“And I love you, too,” Tim shouted, stumbling forward out of Damian’s grasp.

Nightwing cocked his head and looked over at Damian, “Whats wrong with him?”

“He's high.”

At that, Drake grinned wide and said, “I feel like I’m floating in the clouds.”

“Oh….” Grayson said, looking back and forth between the two younger vigilantes, then finished with a lame, “kay then.”

“Just take him back to the cave,” Damian growled as he shoved Drake toward his older brother, “he’s just getting worse and less coherent the longer this is in his system.”

“All of you,” Batman ordered, “get in.”

“I’m fine,” Damian insisted, “I can continue patrolling.”

Nightwing nodded as he gently guided Tim into the Batmobile. “I’ll stay with Robin.  You can handle Red.”

“Little assassin baby needs a hug,” Drake sang, “his hand hurts.”

Betrayal.  That’s what Damian felt.  Utter betrayal.  How did Drake even know that, anyway?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Grayson said, turning his disappointed glare at Damian, “Let me see that hand.”

Damian grumbled a few curses and lifted his left hand for the man to inspect.

Dick whistled.  “Damn.  You’re coming back, too.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, pulling his hand back to himself.  He was fine.  He’d fought with worse. Really, it was his head killing him, anyway.  He barely even noticed the hand.  

But there was no way he was telling them that.

“Nope, get in,” Dick said, dragging Damian along by his cape.  

——

As it turned out, Damian did not have a concussion.  Just a pretty nasty knot on his head.  Father had not been pleased about him concealing a broken hand and a head injury, however, and Damian found himself grounded.

Drake’s fault.  All of it.

But while the initial hour on the drugs had put Drake into a euphoric state, the last several sent him deep into horrible withdrawal symptoms.  He spent the majority of the night expelling anything and everything put into his system, and at some point he even cried from whatever pain the drug was causing.

So Damian figured they were even.  There was no need to kill him.  

This time.

Thankfully, however, in Grayson’s words since Damian didn’t care, the drug did no lasting damage.  Once it worked its way through Tim’s system, he was fine.

Not thankfully, though, part of Damian’s punishment was doing chores for Pennyworth.  So when Tim was finally recovered enough to eat, Damian found himself forced to bring a bowl of soup and pack of crackers to Drake in his bedroom.  Even though he had a freaking cast on his hand.

Smacking the tray down a bit too roughly, Damian snapped a half-hearted, “Pennyworth demanded I bring you this,” before turning on his heels to leave the room as quickly as possible.

“Thanks, Dames,” Tim rasped, sitting up some.

Damian scowled and turned back around, hoping his withering glare would make the teen cry.  “My name is Damian, Drake.”

“And mine’s Tim,” he retorted, “Guess neither of us get our way.”

“Tt,” he pouted, crossing his arms across his chest petulantly.  That was completely different.  Drake could call him ‘Wayne’ and it’d be perfectly acceptable.  Damian was simply using the teenager’s name.  Drake, on the other hand, was purposely mincing his name, knowing it would upset him.  

“Sorry about yesterday,” Drake said, swirling his spoon around in his bowl a bit, “it’s like my filter got turned off…”

Shifting on his feet a bit, Damian said, “Yes you said plenty of asinine things”

Still staring down at his soup, Tim added with a frown, “None of it wasn’t true”

Damian wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he averted his gaze off to the wall above Drake's desk.

And that's when he noticed the dozen of pictures pinned there.  Damian had never actually noticed it before, because he never went into Tim’s room.  He had dozens of pictures on the wall, all of candid pictures of the ‘family.’  And he was mildly surprised to find himself in a lot of the pictures.  

Okay, a bit more the mildly.  Why would he have pictures of Damian up above his desk?  Where he spent a lot of his time?

Maybe...

Maybe Tim did see them as brothers.

Drake slurped a spoonful of his soup before continuing, “I can’t believe you broke your own thumb, though.”

“It’s not like you were in any condition to save us,” Damian snapped, pulling his attention away from the stupid pictures. Who cared whether the teen saw them as brothers.  They weren’t.

“Thanks, Dami.”

“Whatever.  Just don’t get us captured again," he spat, turning back around to exit his brother's room dramatically.

Because it was definitely Drake's fault.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown. org/works/16654726

[ao719]

Perfect Strangers - Rewrite the Stars

Perfect Strangers - Rewrite the Stars

(This is a second post of this since there was something wrong with the link of the original. I’m just posting for my masterlist)

Liam was headed to Lythikos for two days for the next event of the social season. They had a day out in the snow planned and then a ball the next night. He stared out the window as they made their way, his mind only on Callie. They were only a few weeks into the social season and he was hating it more and more realizing how much longer he had to keep this facade up. He hated not being able to spend time with Callie, that he couldn’t just go to her house whenever he wanted like he did just a month ago. He was stuck attending these events, and he had absolutely no choice in the matter. He would have a day to himself once he returned before the royal regatta, which was the only thing keeping him going right now, knowing he would be spending that entire day with Callie.

Callie laid out on the beach after getting home from work that day, just staring up at the clouds as they passed. She missed Liam. She missed him being at the house with her, she missed his scent, his touch, his smile, all of him. She wanted nothing more in that moment that to feel his arms wrapped around her, to hear his laugh. She let out a heavy sigh as she thought about him being in Lythikos. She had been feeling uneasy since the derby, since Madeline had said those things to her about not being good enough for Liam. She was normally a confident person, but those comments had her questioning her worth, questioning whether or not she was right. And questioning whether or not Liam would see it too, after being around the noble ladies and away from her. She got up and walked inside to grab some dinner, Giselle coming in the door a short time later walking to the kitchen. She saw Callie sitting at the counter looking deep in thought.

“Hey, you alright?” Callie looked over to her.

“Oh...uh, yeah. How was your day?” She rested her chin on her knuckles. Giselle arched an eyebrow.

“Callie, I've known you long enough to know you're deflecting. What's going on?” Callie looked at her for a moment before turning away and letting out a sigh as she played with her food on her plate.

“I don’t know...I guess with Liam being gone, and after what Madeline said to me the other day...I just can’t help but to think she might be right...” Giselle put her hand on Callie’s shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie, you can't listen to her. She doesn't know anything about you.” Callie shook her head.

“Who was I kidding, Gigi? He’s got these woman throwing themselves at him. Basically begging him to take them. These woman with these sophisticated, wealthy backgrounds. Who’s names are all, I’m assuming, well known. Woman who are Queen material. Not like me, the orphan girl from New York, with no family, no background...” A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. Giselle pulled her into a hug.

“Callie Bishop! You are beautiful, smart, kind and fierce. You have never backed down from a challenge, you prefer to be the challenge. Do not let that evil blonde demon get inside your head. If you want to be with Liam, then I know you will figure it out, and be the best damn Queen this country has ever seen.”

They sat and talked a little more before Callie went upstairs to her room. She flopped back on her bed staring at the ceiling replaying her conversation with Giselle in her head. She was right, she was never one to back down from a challenge...but this was different for some reason. She felt as if she were in way over her head, to think Liam would possibly want to be with someone like her. She and Liam could be completely themselves around one another when they were alone, but out in the open, Liam would just be looked down upon for choosing someone like her. And he might be willing to do that for her, but she wasn’t sure she was willing to allow him to.

Liam made it through the first day in Lythikos, and now he was heading down to the ball. He just needed to get through this night and he would be headed back to Cordonia in the morning, and straight to Callie to spend the day with her. He walked down the stairs and into the ballroom being greeted by Olivia.

“Liam,” she smiled as she welcomed him.

“Olivia,” he quirked his brow with a smirk. Olivia was one of his oldest friends, one he knew since childhood, and he could read her like a book, and he knew in this moment that she was half in the bag. “How much have you had to drink?” He chuckled.

“Oh you know me...” she giggled. Olivia felt the need to drink to be able to get through this night having to listen to Madeline talk about herself and how much better she would be at being queen than her or any of the other suitors. Liam was one of her best friends, but she didn’t have feelings for him like that. She didn’t even want to be one of his suitors, but she figured with the rest of the vultures at court, with her there he would at least have someone who would have his best interest in mind.

“Well, how about having a dance with me? You are the host after all.”

“Of course,” she grinned. She looked back at Madeline who rolled her eyes and leaned over to Kiara and Penelope and she could hear her raised whisper, like she even has a chance with him. She gritted her teeth as she walked to the dance floor. Drake, Rashad and Maxwell sat by the bar talking, Drake telling Maxwell all about Callie and how Liam was completely taken with her.

“I could have sponsored her! House Beaumont didn’t have anyone in contention.”

“She didn’t want to be sponsored. She’s...different. In a good way,” he chuckled as Rashad nodded his head in agreement. “And plus, Liam told her that whether she was a suitor or not, he was choosing her in the end.”

“Well, I hate to be the debbie-downer here, but you two and I all know how Constantine can be. Do you really think he’s going to let Liam choose her?” Drake sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I hope so, man. She’s perfect for him. But, you’re right about his father. He can be pretty...shady,” Drake sighed before taking back the rest of his whiskey. Maxwell turned his head out to the dance floor and suddenly his mouth fell open. Drake turned and followed his gaze and his eyes went wide. There was Liam and Olivia on the dance floor, and their lips were locked.

“Oh, fuck...” Drake groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. They watched as Liam backed away from Olivia, all of the other suitors sitting at their tables, mouths agape. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out onto the balcony.

“Olivia, what the hell was that?!” Liam scoffed. She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Liam, I’m...I’m so sorry...I don’t now what happened. I’m drunk...and fucking Madeline...I’m sorry, Liam!” She shook her head as he let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s ok...but, Liv, you cant do things like that. Just because Madeline is pissing you off.”

“I know, it’s just, ugh! She’s so damn smug, and thinks that she is your first choice because she thinks so highly of herself! It’s fucking annoying. But you’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“Ok...I’m going to be honest with you, because you’re one of my closest friends. Madeline is not my first choice, or a choice at all. None of the suitors are. I won’t be picking any of you.” Olivia looked at him arching her brow in confusion.

“What? What do you mean?” Liam smiled and told Olivia all about meeting Callie the night at the beer garden and how he fell, and fell hard, and was in love with her. He told her about his conversation with his father and what he had said about the end of the social season and being allowed to choose her. Olivia stared back at him grinning.

“Liam, that’s great. I’m glad you found someone you actually love.”

“Me too,” he smiled and they walked back into the ballroom.

Callie woke up early the next morning just as the sun was rising, got dressed and went for a run down on the beach. She had been thinking about everything with Liam and what Madeline had said and she needed to clear her head. She felt so strongly about her feelings for him, there was no doubt in her mind that she loved him. She kept thinking about how he told her he felt that she and him were meant to be. When she thought about that phrase, meant to be, before she met Liam, she automatically assumed that it meant forever. You’re meant to be with that person. But, now with everything running through her mind, she couldn’t help but really think about it. Not everything lasts forever, and not everything will. Maybe her and Liam were meant to cross paths, to teach each other something. And what they have wasn’t meant to last forever, but what they gained from knowing each other was. Liam had told her he’d never been in love before, so that meant she was his first love. Maybe, she thought, he didn’t really know what he wanted then, if that was the case. Maybe he was in love with the idea of being in love, hell, she didn’t know. She just didn’t understand what he saw in her when he had woman like Madeline and the other suitors fawning over him.

Liam left Lythikos early that morning ahead of everyone else, instructing the driver to go straight to Callie’s house. He was anxious and excited to see her, to hold her and just be with her. He stared out the window, his leg bouncing, as a smile formed on his lips.

Callie had got back from her run and into a hot shower. She stayed in there just letting the water run over her and her mind continued to race, and the more and more she thought about things, the more she hurt. Finally she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her and brushed her long brown hair. She stepped out of the bathroom not even paying attention as she went right to her dresser. Suddenly she felt his hands come up around her waist, and she couldn’t help the smile from forming. As if everything she had been thinking about for the last two days disappeared in that moment.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered in her ear before he trailed his lips down her neck, each one more heated than the last.

“Hi,” she gasped out as he hit that spot that always drove her crazy. His hands reached up loosening the towel and it dropped to her feet on the floor. He spun her around seeing her face and he smiled as he brushed his hand across her cheek. He backed her into the wall and leaned in kissing her slowly and passionately.

“God...I missed...you,” he said in between kisses.

“I missed...you too...Liam,” she smiled as he pressed his lips to hears again. She ran her hands under his shirt and he pulled it up over his shoulders tossing it on the floor. He captured her lips again as his hand slid down the form of her body meeting her wanting heat as he slid his fingers slowly through her wet folds.

“Mmm, baby,” he smirked, “you’re so wet,” he whispered in a smoky tone. He spun her around and walked her back to the bed and laid her down. He came over top of their kissing her deep before trailing his lips down her neck to her chest. His one hand still sliding through her slick folds as he propped himself up with the other. He took her nipple and sucked and flicked it until it was a hardened peak. He kissed down her stomach before he settled between her legs. “I’m gonna...show you...how much I....missed you,” he said between kissing and licking her as she moaned. He parted her with his fingers and flattened his tongue, licking up at a teasing pace before reaching her bud. He brought his lips around it and began sucking and flicking his tongue.

“Oh god, Liam!” She moaned out already getting lost in the sensation. He swirled his tongue in slow circles as he delved two fingers inside and began pumping them, her whimpering moans filling the room. She lightly grabbed his hair pulling her closer to him as he continued his pleasure assault. “Liam, I’m going to...” she trailed off moaning as she arched her back snapping her legs shut. He pushed them back open and pressed his arms over them keeping them open as he continued to swirl and flick his tongue as she climaxed, causing her entire body to convulse with pleasure. He slowed the movements of his tongue, her body still trembling, and he moved trailing his lips up to her stomach. He stood removing his pants and boxers before coming back to the bed on his knees. He pulled her to him and began teasing her throbbing entrance with his tip. “Liam...” she moaned out.

“What do you want, Callie?” He smirked watching what he was doing to her.

“I want you. Now!” She gasped out. He plunged himself inside her hard and deep, both of them moaning, before slowly sliding himself back out and then going back in hard and deep again before he set a pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby,” he thrusted himself inside her, hitting that spot with each one. She lifted her hips in the air allowing for him to go deeper and he dropped his head back for a moment getting lost in the feeling of her. He brought his hand down to her stomach resting it there and rubbing his thumb over her clit.

“God, Liam!” She moaned as she began rotating and rolling her hips against him. He grabbed her small frame with his large hands and began pulling her harder and faster into him. She felt too good, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He could feel her legs tensing as she arched her back.

“Callie, cum for me, baby,” he pulled her harder and faster, sweat glistening on his chest as her moans of his name filled the room. He thrusted through it a few times before easily reaching his own release dropping his head with a growl from his chest. He dropped on the bed next to her as he rolled immediately pulling her into a breathless kiss. They parted and he rested his forehead against her as they both tried catching their breath. “I missed you so damn much,” he parted out. She leaned up kissing him again, slow and passionately, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. They slid under the covers as he wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush to him. “I could spend all day just like this,” he kissed her neck and she smiled.

After spending pretty much the whole morning and some of the afternoon locked in Callie’s room, Liam and her came downstairs to grab something to eat. Paige and Giselle were there with Drake and Rashad and as Callie was making them something to eat, all those thoughts she had from earlier about her and Liam came flooding back as she listened to the three guys talk about their two day stay in Lythikos. They didn’t say that anything had happened, she guessed just hearing about it brought he back down to reality, and made the thoughts she lost when Liam surprised her in her room reappear.

“Excuse me,” she gave a half hearted smile as she opened the door walking outside and down to the beach. Liam watched her walk out and turned to look at the others, confused on what had just happened.

“What just happened?” Liam asked quirking his brow. Giselle looked at Liam sympathetically.

“The past couple of days have been tough on her.”

“What? Why? She didn’t say anything upstairs...” Liam looked out the window watching Callie down at the beach.

“Well, dear old Maddie got in her head about not being noble and not being prepared to be Cordonia's queen. So, while you've been in Lythikos, she's been home thinking of all the reasons why she isn't good enough to be with you.” Liam’s eyes widened and his heart began pounding in his chest wondering what thoughts were running through her head. He rubbed his hand over his mouth before letting out a sigh.

“Why would she think she’s not good enough for me? I never gave her any reason to believe that.”

“Not you. When these noble bitches see an obstacle in their way, they do whatever it takes to remove it. They see her as their obstacle to the crown. They don't care if they hurt Callie along the way as long as they get what they want, which is you.”

“But, they don’t even know about Callie and I!”

“Madeline may have a hunch. The way she came right up to us at the derby, and she said someone told her that you two ‘were cozy’,” Drake explained.

“I'm gonna kill her one day, you know this right, Liam? Like she will just disappear and no one will ever know what happened...” Giselle eyed him.

“And I’ll help,” Paige shot a smirk. Liam let out a long exhale and turned opening the door to go talk to Callie. He walked down to her where she was standing by the water, and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Callie...talk to me. What’s going on?” He heard her take a shaky breath and turned her to face him and saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Hey....stop. What is it?” He cupped her face brushing his thumbs across her cheeks wiping her tears.

“Liam....I don’t think I can do this...”

“Do what?” His heart started to race.

“Liam...you deserve someone better, someone who doesn’t come with these flaws and imperfections,” she shook her head trying to compose herself as she heard what was coming from her mouth and more tears started to fall. “You have these woman...with these highly reputable backgrounds, who your people and your family will approve of-“

“Woah, woah. Stop right there,” he looked directly in her eyes as he interrupted her. “It kills me to see someone as beautiful as you be this sad because you, for some reason, don’t see how incredible you are. I don’t care what your background is, whether or not you have a title in front of your name. I love you, Callie.” She closed her eyes at his words.

“I have nothing to offer you, Liam. You deserve someone who you’re not going to be questioned about or judged for being with! Who people aren’t going to look at and ask what the hell he sees in her...I’m not that girl.”

“Callie, you don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I deserve you! I’m the one who isn’t worthy of you. I want you! All of your flaws and imperfections that you think you have. I want you and only you. You and I were meant for each other, Callie.”

“Liam, you’re going to see it sooner or later. You’re going to be around these woman for another month, while you and I get these small stolen moments here and there...” Callie’s phone began going off in her pocket and she pulled it out looking at it, a strange look crossing her face before she looked up at Liam. Her face was etched in a pained expression and he could see the water dancing in her eyes as complete hopelessness converted into more tears that streamed down her face. “Or, maybe, you’ve already realized it...” she turned her phone so Liam could see and his eyes went wide as he stared at the picture of Olivia kissing him from the ball. Callie dropped her head as she took a shaky deep breath and turned walking away.

[boldmistakes]

but we’ll still have the summer after all: chapter 12

“find light in the beautiful sea”

The next morning, they left New Orleans.

Cooper wandered up to Kelly, bleary-eyed and clutching Starbucks, smiling winningly. “So this is where you guys wandered off to.”

Blaine could have hit him. He settled for a glare, remembering Phillipa’s words from their last FaceTime session: Interrogate your violent reactions to situations as if seeing them in someone else.

He wasn’t sure he’d like the guy who just socked his brother for being annoying.

“We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be,” Blaine said, eyebrow raised. “Where have you been?”

“Around.” Cooper waved a hand. “Admiring the road we call life.”

“Whatever.” Blaine hid a yawn. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night (his gaze flickered to Sebastian, who was rubbing his fading bruise) and while he was used to his fair share of sleepless nights, he needed a great deal more rest to deal with Cooper right now. He waited a moment longer, but Cooper said nothing else, just grunting.

So. No apology then, no discussion.

How did he keep getting surprised by this?

KEEP READING ON AO3

“You missed Beth,” Blaine persisted, despite himself. Beth had given them all long hugs and some leftovers to take on the road, along with a promise to tell him how her date with Grace went, but then she’d had to go run to work. Cooper nodded absently.

“That’s nice.” Cooper opened the door and bounced in. “I’m kind of knackered, you know, as our British cousins would say --”

“We don’t have any British cousins --”

“So I’m going to sleep. Someone else can drive, yeah?” Cooper leaned out the door, beaming, then disappeared inside. Rachel (looking a little put out at Cooper’s lack of greeting) ran in after him, and Sebastian and Blaine shared a look.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Blaine said, and Sebastian reached out to pat his cheek.

“I know,” Sebastian said. “Come on. You’ll feel better once you’re on the road again.”

--

Sebastian was right. Of course he was.

Blaine had taken the wheel, hoping that having all their lives in his hands would stop him from doing something stupid like confronting Cooper again, but his tension melted away along the grey-green whip of the road past the window. The day was hot and bright, and he rolled down the window, cranked up the radio, and opened himself to the promise of the road. It felt like it had been a lifetime since they’d driven anywhere, and he’d almost forgotten how comforting the rock and rhythm of Kelly was, how much he liked losing himself to this simple task. Letting the force of the wind steal away his words, he sang along to the radio.

Baby put your arms around me Tell me I'm a problem Know I'm not the girl you thought you knew and that you wanted Underneath the pretty face is something complicated I come with a side of trouble But I know that's why you're staying …

They crossed the border into Mississippi and stopped for brunch in Biloxi. (The hovering tension of the RV’s various feuds drifting up again like heat from the sidewalk, weakening Sebastian’s crack about the town sounding like “Some kind of cleaning agent.”) After their terse meal during which Cooper ate his eggs with unnecessary smugness -- Blaine maybe being a bit biased -- they split up to wander in opposite directions down a beautiful boardwalk the cute little coastal city boasted. Then they were back in Kelly and headed for Mobile, Alabama for dinner. It was a low-slung city with classic Southern architecture and a few odd, tall towers that made everything else look shorter. They weren’t there long, just parking by a few stores to pick up some needed items; then they were off for Tallahassee, getting there by nightfall.

As they rested against a railing where they could watch the buildings of the city light up with a multitude of glimmering window-squares and colours under the night sky, seeing the glitter of their reflections in the gently lapping waves, he reached up to tug at his collar.

Tallahassee reminded him of Boise, a little, in how its main road cut through the city, but the buildings and people marked the different. The familiarity he felt maybe came more from the state, the new sea-dipped quality the humidity had. He’d been to Florida before, on family vacations years ago to visit his mom’s parents who had retired there, to a wealthy gated community whose main problem was little purse dogs getting snatched by alligators. His grandparents had since passed, and left Blaine with -- complicated -- memories. They’d always been mildly disapproving of their daughter and her choices (and, Blaine suspected with no small heavy heart, the fact that her youngest son looked like his not-suited-for-a-Midwestern-white-beauty-queen father) and Blaine still remembered sullen day of walking around the endless greens of the beautifully maintained golf courses behind his mother, brother, and grandparents, wishing his collar didn’t feel so tight and chafing under the sun.

Maybe he should change. Blaine liked polos, but you had to dress for the weather, didn’t you?

“Camping,” Cooper said, staring at Blaine, not the water. “We should camp. The Apalachicola is right next door.”

“Ugh,” Sebastian said. “No, we should find another four-plus star hotel to stay in. That was nice. That is how you should travel.”

Cooper ignored Sebastian -- it seemed if he couldn’t scare Sebastian off, he’d settle for freezing him out.

“Camping,” he repeated, and reached over to run a hand through Blaine’s hair. Blaine batted him away, and Cooper pulled a familiar look of displeasure as he wiped his hand off, and it was -- like old times. Blaine had to smile, though it soon faded. “There are RV stations there. Kelly needs maintenance.”

Even Sebastian couldn’t argue with that, though he did let out a groan that made Rachel laugh.

“Camping it is, then.”

It took a little while, driving slowly through the night-eerie skinny trees dripping with moss and strange animal noises, but they found an occupied campground, with two other RVs nearby. They parked Kelly and used the headlights to see as they set up their tents. Then they stood there, awkwardly hovering for a moment. Cooper looked at Blaine, opened his mouth, then shook his head and disappeared into Kelly. He re-emerged with a pack of beer, wrapped an arm around Rachel, and went to join the campfire their neighbours had set up with a cheery, “Tally ho!”

Sebastian and Blaine, left to their own devices, grabbed a few beers themselves then crawled to the roof of the RV. Despite the darkness around them the roof was still hot, but not uncomfortably so -- during the day, Blaine would bet you could cook an egg on the metal. He undid his bowtie and leaned back on his hand, taking a sip of the cool beer. Sebastian lay down, long legs dangling off the edge, and rested his head on Blaine’s lap. Together, they stared up at the stars -- maybe not as breathtaking as they’d been in big sky country, but still beautiful, twinkling away peacefully like scattered gems in the black velvet sky, the wisps of clouds nothing more than a shy night’s veil. They didn’t speak, the only sounds the rustle of the sticky-slow wind passing through the skinny-smooth trees, the plop of things in the swamp, the calls of distant animals, and the chatter and music coming from the other RVs -- but that might as well have been coming from a hundred miles away, it seemed so remote.

One song did break through the haze of beer and heat of the night, though.

What would I do without your smart mouth? Drawing me in, and you kicking me out You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down What's going on in that beautiful mind I'm on your magical mystery ride And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright …

Blaine could almost feel piano keys beneath his fingers instead of hot metal and cool glass.

“As far as love songs go, this one’s not bad,” Sebastian said, head shifting on Blaine’s thigh. He was maybe looking at Blaine now; Blaine didn’t check, only taking a long sip of his beer.

“I don’t know,” Blaine finally said, a little melancholy. “It’s kind of selfish, if you ask me.”

“Selfish?” Sebastian listened more. You're my end and my beginning, even when I lose I'm winning. “Maybe too sacrificing. I don’t know. Is that love?”

“‘If it’s love, it comes at much too high a cost?’” Blaine huffed a laugh. “I don’t know, either. I think … there’s a difference between sharing yourself and giving up yourself. And it depends entirely on how you’re received.”

“Right …”

“Sebastian.” Blaine wanted to say things, but they weren’t even fully-formed ideas yet, so he brushed them aside. “What do you think is a good love song? What’s your favourite?”

“Closer .”

“... Tegan and Sara?”

“Do I look like a closeted lesbian?”

“I’ll take that as a no then.”

“Nine Inch Nails.” Sebastian shifted his head higher on Blaine’s thigh, tone dropping. “I wanna fuck you like an animal …”

“Be serious.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“I know you.” Blaine said, rolling his eyes when Sebastian laughed. “That song’s really more about his destructive hatred and obsession than sex you know --”

“Still sexy.” Sebastian paused. “Fine. Do you know Nick Drake?”

“The English musician? Folk-guitar?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian sat up, now looking off into the dark of the woods, turned away from Blaine, his voice measured. “Time Has Told Me. Okay?”

Blaine cast through his mental catalogue, smiling as the lyrics floated to him through memory. It was a surprisingly earnest choice. He hummed a second then started to sing: “Time has told me, you're a rare rare find … a troubled cure, for a troubled mind …”

Sebastian abruptly rounded on him, hand sliding along the nape of Blaine’s neck and tugging him into a kiss. Blaine’s startled sound was muffled, along with further words, and he pushed at Sebastian’s chest, a little confused.

“I didn’t ask for a serenade,” Sebastian said, pulling back.

Blaine frowned. “I’m sorry?”

Sebastian looked at him inscrutably for a second, then shook his head.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that.” Sebastian kissed him again, on the corner of his mouth, like an apology. “Blaine Anderson serenades are always welcome. But I had other plans for tonight and if you start singing people will come running and I want you all to myself.”

It didn’t sound entirely honest, but Sebastian started to kiss down his jaw, his neck, and Blaine tilted his chin, breath catching as he was distracted. Sebastian’s fingers slid into the gape of Blaine’s collar, left open when he’d undone his bowtie earlier, stroking along his collarbone. He dangled his hand with the beer over Sebastian’s shoulder, keeping him close as heat bloomed with each press of Sebastian’s mouth.

“We’re on top of an RV,” Blaine pointed out, as Sebastian’s other hand started to ruck up his shirt, sliding underneath to feel skin.

“We won’t roll around,” Sebastian murmured against Blaine’s neck, the words tickling. Blaine shivered.

“People will see.”

“Only if they climb the ladder.” Sebastian started to deftly undo Blaine’s belt with one hand; Blaine’s hips lifted automatically to help.

“They’ll hear.”

“That’s why you have to be quiet for me.” He could hear Sebastian’s smirk. “Think you can do that, sexy?”

“Can you?” Blaine challenged, and Sebastian chuckled warmly, nipping at the bob of his Adam’s apple as he tugged Blaine’s pants down, fisting his cock. Blaine gasped.

“Not a problem for me,” Sebastian replied as he started to sinuously drag himself down Blaine’s body, hand moving slowly and drawing staggered breaths out of Blaine. “My mouth’s gonna be full.”

He winked, and with a sing-song, “I drink the honey inside your hive, you are the reason I stay alive ...” that dissolved into a hum he went down on Blaine. Stunned stupid, Blaine stuck his fist in his mouth and bit down, hard.

He was pretty sure he still made noise, though; thank god for that radio blasting.

--

That night in their tent, it was far too hot to cuddle, but Sebastian still drew up to Blaine, curling around him. Blaine dozed fitfully, overheated, but couldn’t bring himself to move away. At one point he thought he heard a murmur of his name, but when he whispered Sebastian’s back, he got no response.

He wondered what Sebastian was dreaming about.

--

Blaine quite literally bumped into Cooper as he came back from an early-morning photography trip of the woods, nearly dropping his camera in shock. He glared at Cooper.

“Careful. This is my only camera.”

“We could buy a new one,” Cooper dismissed. Blaine ground his teeth. “Blainey … you were very antisocial last night. Didn’t see you at all.”

“I was socializing.” Blaine paused a beat. “With Sebastian.”

Cooper grimaced. Blaine waited; had Cooper come looking for him? Had he wanted to talk?

(He had no idea how hope kept sneaking up on him like that.)

“And here I thought you’d been eaten by a bear,” Cooper said. “Just remember -- if you ever meet one, punch it in the eye.”

“I think that’s sharks, actually.”

“Oh, so only sharks have sensitive eyes now? You’re no scientist, Squirt.”

“Whatever.” Blaine shook his head wearily. The day had dawned bright and hot, even in the maze of trees; he just wanted to get back to the relative coolness of Kelly, whom Cooper had taken on an early-morning RV maintenance trip. “Did you want something?”

“I …” Cooper’s mouth moved silently, then he said, “I’m sorry you’re mad.”

Seriously?

“That’s not an apology.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, but you’re not sorry about what you did .”

Cooper looked sincerely confused, but that didn’t help Blaine’s mood any. Sweat trickled down his neck and he swore it was chased by a bug; he slapped at it impatiently. His neck stung.

“You know what,” Blaine said, before Cooper could continue. “Ask Rachel about it. Better yet: don’t bother apologizing to me until you’ve apologized to Sebastian.”

Cooper’s expression shifted, jaw setting. “I’m not going to apologize to him.”

“Well, it seems we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?”

Blaine marched past Cooper then, shaking off Cooper’s attempt to grab his arm. Back at Kelly, Rachel was saying her goodbyes to people from the other RV and Sebastian was sitting on Kelly’s hood, feet braced on the front bumper, drinking his morning coffee. He glanced up as Blaine came over.

“Talking to your brother?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Because I don’t want you fighting with family over me --”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”

Sebastian regarded him for a long moment then silently spread his legs in open invitation and Blaine stepped between them. As Sebastian gave a rub to his back he accepted Sebastian’s coffee, taking a deep drink. The extra caffeine was very much needed after that exhausting encounter with Cooper. He was just starting to relax again when --

“Everything packed up?” Cooper asked loudly. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Blaine sighed, stepping away from Sebastian, but offered his hand. Sebastian took it, and Blaine helped him down from the hood. Rachel came over, smiling brightly and looking utterly unfazed by the heat of the day as she practically floated into the RV, humming to herself.

Blaine had to admit, he begrudged her good mood just a smidge.

--

They drove down to Tampa. The temperature only continued to rise.

Blaine, anxious about their old girl breaking down again, made Cooper keep to the speed limit as he drove, and when they got there and found a motel, Blaine made him circle the lot three times until a spot opened up that was shaded by an overhang. Naturally, Cooper looked ready to strangle him by the end of this, but Blaine could outfox his brother any day and was up and out of the RV before Cooper could start in on him, going into the front office to rent a room.

Unfortunately, the only room available was cramped, with two doubles separated by just a small nightstand which bore a lightly swaying hula girl on it. They silently took this in, then all seemed to come to the silent but mutual realization that nobody was getting laid tonight.

“I foresee moods only getting worse,” Sebastian muttered to Rachel, who giggled and gave him a slap to the arm.

“I have an idea, Mr. Smythe,” she said, darting a scheming glance at Blaine and Cooper. “Why don’t we switch things up. You and I will share one, as further proof of how nobly we have laid our past animosities to bed, which leaves the brothers Anderson to take the other …”

“No,” Blaine said, crossing his arms.

“Aw, c’mon Blainey. It’ll just be like old times.”

“What old times? When I was four and had nightmares and came to you and you told me to get lost?”

“Aunty Catherine’s cottage.”

“Again, you locked me out. I slept in the dog bed!”

“That time in Cebu --”

“You -- okay, fine, but only because your bed caught fire and you stole mine!”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know how flammable rayon is?”

“Anyone would know that!”

“Guys,” Sebastian said, eyebrow raised. “Calm down. Maybe you should be forced to spend some quiet time together …”

“Then it’s decided,” Rachel said, before Blaine could respond. She picked up her suitcase. “I’m going to go change into my swimsuit.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, and with a groan, Blaine gave up, privately thinking he could just get out of this later. He took out his swimsuit and went to the RV to change; Sebastian joined him. Blaine gave him a side-eye as they stripped.

“You’re supposed to take my side, you know.”

“What? And deny you a chance to build character?”

Blaine threw his shorts at Sebastian’s head, and naked and laughing and utterly unapologetic, Sebastian caught them then came over, looping the shorts around Blaine’s neck to tug him into a kiss. Blaine pressed his hands to Sebastian’s chest but didn’t push him away, kissing back.

“Friends don’t let friends ruin vacations with fights,” Sebastian murmured against his lips. Blaine paused -- friends? -- then sighed.

“I know …” he pulled back. “I guess I just feel like if I stop being angry with him, I’ll roll over and forgive him the way I have a thousand times before, and he won’t learn anything.”

“Sometimes people need a little ass-kicking like that,” Sebastian agreed. “Just … try to avoid doing anything you’ll regret, okay?”

“And deny myself the chance to build character?”

Sebastian laughed. “Okay, point …” he stepped away to tug on his swimsuit. Once they were ready they grabbed a pair of beers and went to sit on Kelly’s steps, waiting for Cooper and Rachel to return. Seeing as how it took enough time for them to get through most of their beers, Blaine wasn’t surprised to see that Rachel had a very satisfied wiggle to her hips going on as she exited the motel.

“Man, your brother’s a horndog.”

Blaine gave him a disbelieving look; it was a ridiculous statement coming from Sebastian, who lived and breathed sex. “Really, Sebastian?”

“What? Not girrrl power enough? Fine, Rachel’s a horndog too.”

“Not what I meant!”

“Hello boys!” Rachel sauntered up, smiling widely. “Ready to hit the beach? I’m feeling very … energized.”

Sebastian woofed at her (Blaine elbowed him) then stood up with a snicker at Rachel’s puzzled expression. “Yes. C’mon, drinks on me, Berry. If you’re going to be the first girl I ever sleep with I think we’ll both need to some liquid courage …”

Blaine got out of the way as a giggling Rachel entered the RV after Sebastian -- they went to the kitchen, where Sebastian mixed her a drink with great flair. Cooper soon joined them having locked up the motel, and Blaine hovered awkwardly at the top of the steps, staring down at him.

“You should drive,” Blaine finally said. “The rest of us have been drinking.”

Cooper frowned then whined, “But I drove us down here! Four freakin’ hours!”

“You should have considered that before you decided to take so long to get here.”

“But I was -- oh, forget it, you’re just jealous.” Cooper groaned and bounded into Kelly, nudging Blaine aside as he made for the driver’s seat. “Ungrateful little brat …” Blaine ignored him, and went to pull out his laptop, figuring it was time to update his journal.

On way to the beach, Tampa August 1st, 2014

Forgiveness is hard.

He stared at the cursor, trying to think of how to continue. His gaze drifted to Sebastian, who was clinking glasses with Rachel.

I always thought I was forgiving but I guess not. But I still feel like I do it too much. It’s hard because you’re supposed to stand up for yourself, but you’re also supposed to not hold grudges. Maybe it’s just a fake it until you make it thing.

I think Kurt and I had a conversation about that once. Not forgiveness, but acting like you know what you’re doing when you really don’t. I don’t really remember. We have too much history to sort through.

Is forgiveness easier or harder to find with lots of history?

--

They ended up at Treasure Island beach, white sands and warm gulf waters, umbrellas brooming brightly like a field of flowers, and kites circling the air like large colourful birds that swooped and wove around each other across the clear blue sky. The whole effect breathed summer in a way that was hard to describe, but Blaine was feeling to the soles of his feet. He wiggled his toes in his flip-flops, then followed Sebastian out onto the beach, the heat much more bearable with the promise of water.

Cooper and Rachel sailed off together like a movie-star couple tanned arm in tanned arm, so it was just the two of them.

“So where first? Water? Tanning? Drinks? Volleyball?”

“Water, definitely.”

“Race you there?”

Blaine took one look at Sebastian’s smirk, then straightened. “Oh, you’re on.”

Sebastian took off like a shot, but Blaine was right there with him. Sebastian might have longer legs but Blaine was wilier and a great jumper; he cleared a sunbathing family in a single bound, ducked under a line of umbrellas, lost a flip-flop dodging a sandcastle, and then ditched the second one in his final break for the water, which he hit with great big splashing steps.

Triumphant, he flashed a wide grin at Sebastian, who was behind him.

“Having fun eating my dust, Smythe?”

Sebastian didn’t stop running, and Blaine hastily stumbled back a few steps before Sebastian tackled him, Blaine catching sight of a flash of white teeth bared in a grin as they went down in a tangle of limbs in the water. He spluttered, water going up his nose, and gave Sebastian a punch to the side. They wrestled for a few confused and water clumsy-slick moments in the waves before Blaine got himself righted, an arm around Sebastian’s neck.

“Sore loser!”

“I was watching your ass, I forgot all about running and had to get straight to groping.”

“Sore. Loser.”

“Who gets to grope you. I’m okay with that.” Sebastian’s hand went to do that, and Blaine squeaked, giving Sebastian another punch. And then they were just floating together, bobbing in the waves and grinning at each other. Blaine traced the way seawater dripped down the fine lines of Sebastian’s face, suspended in his lashes and trembling from his lower lip, and gave into the urge for a quick, salty kiss. Distantly, he heard a noise of disgust. He pulled back, but Sebastian only smiled at him like they were the only two people there, mutual castaways. Blaine smiled back.

“Race you to that buoy?”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding; just let go of Blaine and started a powerful front crawl. Grinning, Blaine chased him.

--

After a while they ended up back on the beach.

Blaine had no clue where his flip-flops had gone, which should have concerned him more, but it was hard to worry when Sebastian and him collapsed in the surf together, letting the tide wash over their feet like an indecisive blanket, flat on their backs with the sand in their hair and staring up at the sky with its dance of kites.

“You ever fly a kite as a kid?” Sebastian asked. “I never did.”

“Yeah, a few times. My dad grew up on these big kite-flying festivals before he came to the States so he wanted to pass it on to me. Mom put a stop to it after I nearly got carried off by one though …”

“Always been a shrimp, huh?”

Blaine splashed some water at Sebastian. “It was a big kite!”

Sebastian stood up. Blaine looked up at him, confused, and accepted Sebastian’s hand to get up himself.

“C’mon,” Sebastian said. “You’re going to teach me how to do this, shrimp.”

“Nicknames my brother would call me? Not hot.”

“What? Wouldn’t like me calling you Squirt?”

Blaine shuddered. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re not sharing a bed tonight.” He shoved Sebastian. “Come on, beanpole. Let’s go find a kite.”

“Beanpole?”

“Would you prefer stringbean?”

“... No, beanpole’s good.”

Laughing, Blaine led him to a group of people their age having fun with a neon yellow kite shaped like a large eagle. They made introductions, and soon everyone was shouting advice at Sebastian as he handled a kite for the first time, squinting up against the sun’s glare as he watched it maneuver. Blaine ended up singing:

I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea Fly like an eagle Let my spirit carry me I want to fly, oh, yeah, Fly right into the future …

And it made Sebastian laugh so hard he could no longer stop the lines from tangling with each other. Once he’d gotten his fill, Blaine took a turn, and then their new friends had to go so they said their goodbyes. Sebastian and Blaine filled up the rest of the afternoon swimming, joining a game of volleyball, tanning, and ducking inside a changing tent to make out. Blaine was thoroughly exhausted by the time they were back at the RV by sundown, to find Cooper and Rachel were inside, having what sounded like a disagreement. Blaine and Sebastian hesitated, sharing a long look, and it seemed they had nosiness in common because they leaned forward to listen in. It wasn’t exactly a screaming row though so they only caught snatches, like Rachel saying “-- really just immature --” and Cooper’s melodramatic “but if HAMLET could do it, why not me?” and soon they stepped back to sit on the parking lot kerb to give them some privacy.

“Wonder what that’s about.”

“Maybe he stepped on one of her lines.”

“Hush …”

Eventually the door flung open and Rachel marched out, red-faced. She heaved out a huff they could hear thirty feet away, then noticed them with a start.

“Oh! Hello, my best gays --”

“I like you, Berry, but I’ll punt you across the parking lot if you call me that again --”

“My boys, how was your day?”

“Great,” Blaine said. “Yours?”

“Wonderful,” she replied, then shot a glare back at the RV. “Ready for dinner in Ybor City?”

“Definitely.”

--

They headed back to the motel to dress up a little, then took a cab to Ybor City.

A historic district near downtown Tampa that had been founded and built up by immigrants working for the cigar trade before gentrification had gotten hold of it, it stood out uniquely in the more beachy industrial landscape of polished Tampa. Yellow trolleys trundled cheerfully down the street, past preserved historical storefronts with painted carved wooden details, under intricate green bridges, and by a large hall with a bright sign declaring CENTRO YBOR. It was beautiful, and they went for a stroll in the early evening air as they took in the sights. There was a lot of shopping but most of it was closed now; Blaine was sad to look through a window of an upscale thrift store and see an adorable blue plaid bowtie on a mannequin, locked up behind a closed sign.

“There’ll be other bowties, my little fashion plate,” Sebastian said, tugging him along. Blaine cast a final longing glance, and followed.

For dinner they went to the famous Columbia Restaurant, which had been in operation since 1905. It was a fun and delicious mix of Spanish and Cuban cuisine and they ate their fill and then some, and somewhere between appetizer and dessert they actually found a little peace in their foursome.

In fact, at one point Cooper had looked at Sebastian’s dinner and said, “How’s the crab?”

“It’s great.” Sebastian then had nudged his plate towards Cooper. “Let’s swap. Then we get to try both.”

Cooper agreed, though he hoarded his new plate with a suspicious look at Sebastian like he thought Sebastian might have poisoned it. And of course things fell apart again over the bill -- Cooper had sneered out a truly unnecessary, “Why doesn’t the spoiled brat pay?” and Sebastian had, with almost automatic grace, replied, “That’s so generous of you, thanks Cooper,” and Rachel had leapt up to pay before anyone could start swinging.

As they left the restaurant, Sebastian marched off ahead in a huff and Cooper lingered behind, muttering to himself, hands jammed deep in his pockets despite them both being raised by a mother who had scolded them for doing that. Rachel took Blaine by the arm as they walked between the two grumpy men.

“Maybe they should be the one sharing a bed tonight,” Rachel said, sotto voce.

“No,” Blaine hissed, an instinctive, forever-second-best-to-handsome-big-brother wince tearing across his face. Smoother, he continued: “No, they definitely shouldn’t.”

Rachel looked at him shrewdly. “You don’t think Sebastian would …?”

“No,” Blaine said. “Or. I don’t know. I don’t think he would. But anyone can do anything, can’t they?”

“Maybe,” Rachel said, doubtful. “But have a little faith all the same.”

“Faith in what, exactly?”

“That things are going to work out for you.” Rachel smiled up at him. “Because they should, so they will.”

Blaine slipped his arm free so he could tug her into his side in a half-hug, their mutual affection sweetly painting the sea-warm night air under the soft halogen glow of the streetlamps. Blaine looked around, breathing it in with a wide smile, and then spotted the blinking lights advertising a nightclub and impulsively announced, “Let’s go dancing!”

“I’m tired,” Cooper complained.

“Then don’t go,” Blaine shot back.

“Cooper,” Rachel wheedled. “I’ll need a date …”

Cooper gave her a look. “You have Blaine for that, don’t you?”

Blaine frowned. “Cooper, seriously, what the hell …”

“I think I’m going to take off too,” Sebastian interrupted, arms crossed and expression drawn.

Blaine wavered. “We can just turn in for the night --”

“No, you go, have fun,” Sebastian said. “I’m just going to walk around. I need some more fresh air.”

“If you’re sure …”

“I’m sure.” Sebastian waved lazily, and with a final, lingering look at Blaine, he turned on his heel and walked off. Blaine, watching the line of his shoulders, was struck then by the sudden image of Sebastian heading back to the motel, grabbing his bag, and taking off again. Sticking out his thumb and hitchhiking off to god knows where with god knows who and then becoming nothing more than an occasional Facebook update. Digital acquaintances could be synonymous with strangers.

Blaine’s voice locked in his throat and he took a half-step as if to chase after Sebastian, but Rachel squeezed his arm.

“We are dancing,” she said firmly, pouting after Cooper, who was flagging down a cab. Blaine searched for Sebastian again but he was already gone, around a corner, into a shop, off to -- “Blaine?”

“Sorry.” Blaine looked at her, guilt bubbling in him. “Should I have let Sebastian go? He seems kind of down …”

“Which is why he wants some alone time,” she said gently, something even softer lingering in her gaze as she surveyed him. “But you and I want to dance. Okay?”

Blaine did want to. But he didn’t want to want to. Why? This was stupid. He girded himself, stood straighter, nodded.

“Let’s dance, then.”

--

His feet ached, his throat was hoarse, and he thought he might pass out before they got back to the motel because his eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds apiece.

Rachel was already slumped against him in the cab, snuffling a little in her sleep as she drooled on his shoulder. It was no wonder they were so exhausted; it had been Spanish music and 90s remixes all night. They had sung and danced until all that kept them standing was the twisting crowd pulsing around them, and the crowd had provided plenty of partners to dance with. Yet he was mindful that they were alone in a strange city together, and didn’t let her out of his sight. So they inevitably would come back together and slowdance when it made no sense to, because they were tired and simply wanted to lean on each other and sway. And with that everything faded away except for the sticky give of the nightclub floor beneath their feet and the comfortable weight of her in his arms.

People had probably thought they were dating, and that was one of those complicated things that required unpacking when he wasn’t so ready to collapse into the nearest bed he found.

Though really, all that mattered was that Rachel was his friend, and she cared for him, and he for her.

Blaine nudged her awake when they arrived with a fond smile, shifting her gently so he could pull his wallet out. “Rachel? Hey? We’re here.”

Rachel yawned, blinking slowly as Blaine paid the cabbie. They climbed out, Blaine holding Rachel’s heels in one hand and supporting her still half-asleep form with his other arm. As they walked up to their door he belatedly realized that Sebastian and Cooper had had the keys, and it was late, and they might be asleep. He hesitated before knocking softly.

The door opened immediately. Sebastian stood there, shirtless, in a pair of thin sleep pants. He gave Blaine a slow once-over like he was the one half-naked.

“Have fun?”

“Yes.” Sebastian stepped aside, letting Blaine and Rachel in. The lights were off except for the bathroom one, which spilled out in a rectangle of yellow across the carpeted floor. Cooper was asleep, hugging his pillow to himself. The room was stifling, the A/C’s weak rattling just moving air but not cooling anything.

Sebastian took Rachel from Blaine, giving him a chance to put her shoes out of the way. Rachel mumbled in protest and Sebastian silently laughed at her. “Hey, Berry. Time for bed.”

“Bed,” Rachel murmured, giggling and nuzzling Sebastian’s chest. “Let’s sleep.”

Sebastian stared down at her like she was a strange limpet he’d carried home from the ocean, then looked up at Blaine.

“I think she wants you to take her to bed,” Blaine said dryly.

“Can’t blame her, everyone else does.” Sebastian winked, and picked Rachel up. She gasped, giggling some more, as Sebastian carried her to Cooper’s bed. Blaine watched, intrigued; Sebastian had been on board with Rachel’s bed sharing plan earlier that day. Now he tucked her in under only a sheet, considerate of the heat. “You are one slutty kitten of a drunk, little Berry …”

Did Sebastian want to sleep with Blaine, just sleep, that badly? Or did he just not want Rachel all over him?

“Mrr.” Rachel purred, then rolled over, burying her face against Cooper’s pillow and apparently going to sleep. Sebastian straightened, and he and Blaine shared a heavy look.

“I’m surprised you’re still up,” Blaine whispered after a moment. “Not tired?”

“I’m tired,” Sebastian said. He looked at Blaine inscrutably, and Blaine, too buzzed and exhausted himself to puzzle out the mystery of Sebastian that night shrugged and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when the door swung open and Sebastian entered, shutting the door quietly behind him.

They held eye contact for a breath, then Blaine bowed his head to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth. Sebastian stepped closer, his hands sliding to bracket Blaine’s hips. Blaine watched as Sebastian leaned in, kissing the back of Blaine’s neck, once, twice, lingeringly so.

“I thought you were tired,” Blaine said softly.

“I am,” Sebastian replied, tugging Blaine’s collar down so he could place his hot mouth over Blaine’s birthmark and tease it with his tongue. Blaine exhaled shakily.

“Then …?”

“Take a bath?” Sebastian asked, resting his chin on Blaine’s shoulder, smiling indolently. “It’s too hot to sleep.”

“Sure.”

They ran the bath then stripped, hands stroking and sharing small kisses as they pushed and pulled their clothes off, leaving piles of fabric in their wake as they drifted to the tub. Sebastian sat back in it, creating ripples, and Blaine joined him, nested between Sebastian’s legs and leaning back against his chest. The water was lukewarm, perfect in the heat of the night, and Sebastian’s soapy fingers made slick trails down Blaine’s chest, his belly, his arms, his legs, tracing shapes. It didn’t really feel like foreplay, or even intent. It was touching simply to touch, and Blaine slumped bonelessly against the gentle assurement of it, eyes drifting shut as he smiled contentedly.

“You have magic hands,” he told Sebastian, voice thick with sleep.

After a long moment Sebastian chuckled, his arms curling around Blaine. “Remind me to give you a proper massage sometime, babe.”

Blaine laughed, nodding, and relaxed, if possible, even further.

--

Cold water sprayed him in the face and Blaine awoke with a startled jerk.

Sputtering, Blaine ran a hand over his eyes, squinting and trying to see what the hell was happening. He was stiff and far too wet. “What the --?”

“Rise and shine, lovebirds,” Cooper’s voice said, and Sebastian groaned somewhere behind him. Blaine clumsily started to rise, but his legs were very much asleep and he was naked -- Blaine sat back down with a splash as the shower turned off, his face red.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, dumbass. You slept in the tub.”

Blaine couldn’t look up to meet Cooper’s eye. “A little privacy, please.”

Cooper scoffed, leaving. “Be fast,” he threw over his shoulder before he shut the door. “I really have to piss.”

The door shut with a click, and Blaine gingerly stood up, looking at his hands. “I’m a prune,” he despaired.

“Your ass still looks great,” Sebastian reported cheerily, and Blaine carefully stepped out of the tub on shaky legs with a groan.

“Jeez, thanks.” Blaine grabbed a towel, drying himself off and wrapping it around his waist, watching as Sebastian rose up out of the water with a great deal more grace, looking like some kind of water nymph. He stretched out his long body, yawning, and stepped out, taking the other towel.

“I’m definitely not driving today,” Sebastian observed, cricking his back with a wince. “I feel like I just got all folded up like the little Asian contortionist in Ocean’s Eleven.”

“I’m not sure that hurt for him, if he’s so used to it …”

“Speaking from experience, my little Asian contortionist?”

Blaine jabbed him. “Shut up, mayonnaise.”

Sebastian cracked up, and Cooper hammered on the door. “In three seconds I’m coming in there to pee and I don’t care who’s in there!”

“Keep your hair on,” Sebastian scoffed, under his breath. They gathered up their clothes just as Cooper swung the door open, and dodged out past him before they could witness anything horrific. Rachel looked up from where she was contemplating two dresses laid out on the bed, and smiled knowingly.

“You two look … clean.”

Blaine could offer no response but a blush.

--

Sebastian, the coward, took off to get Starbucks after their morning run, leaving Blaine alone to catch the brunt of comments from Rachel and Cooper about the bathtub thing.

“You don’t think straight around him,” Cooper cautioned, clearly not finding it as amusing as Rachel did.

“That’s kind of the whole point,” Blaine retorted. “Gay, remember?”

“Not what I meant.”

“I don’t care what you meant.” And with that Blaine went to shower and get dressed. When Sebastian showed up with coffee for everyone, Blaine took his cup and went to sit in Kelly until it was time to leave.

--

Blaine took the wheel for the two-hour drive to Fort Myers, Sebastian next to him, napping against the window.

They got to go over the Sky Bridge, Blaine briefly wishing he wasn’t driving so he could better appreciate the view from the high, narrow bridge as it cut a path through the sparkling expanse of the water. The city was winding and island-like, with even whiter beaches, palm trees, low buildings, and tanned tourists strolling around. It might not be spring break but there seemed to be a lot of college-aged kids around all the same, and the motels looked busy. So Blaine was inspired by the views to find an RV campground that opened up on a beach, and they got a spot for Kelly for the night.

After that they parted ways for the day in their respective pairs, Sebastian and Blaine heading out to see the Lee County Manatee Park (at Blaine’s behest) while Rachel and Cooper went shopping (a mutual decision.) There were some manatee statues in front of the park, a mama and a baby, that Blaine posed with while Sebastian took photos with exaggerated pretension.

“Excellent … the colour balance, ideal, the framing … superb …”

“You really know your stuff, mister,” Blaine said, letting go of the manatee he was hugging. “I should have paid you more than one dollar.”

“Oh?” Sebastian extended a hand, beckoning. “Pony up, then.”

Blaine took Sebastian by the hand, smiling winningly at him. “I’ll pay you with my good company.”

Sebastian smirked widely as the walked into the park proper, still holding hands. “I can think of  a few places to start with that. Ever heard of a reverse cowboy?”

Blaine feigned innocence. “A cowboy that lets a horse ride him?”

“Kinky, Anderson.”

Luckily it was the weekend so they could rent kayaks, which they took out onto the calm waters of the park. It was made up of maze-like channels that wove through the plant life, the rivers shallow and broad with sandy bottoms, and so clear they could see every animal that swam by beneath their boats, fish and turtles alike. There was also graceful cranes, a very cute marsh rabbit, and at one point a beaver that took off the moment it saw them, and the whole landscape was peaceful and quiet except for the dip of their paddles slicing through the water.

But there were no manatees.

Apparently they didn’t come out when the water was too hot, preferring to be in the park when it was cooler and they could warm up thanks to the output of the nearby hydro plant. Blaine was disappointed, despite the beauty of everything else.

“It’s okay,” he told Sebastian, after becoming inordinately excited then let down when he’d mistaken a log for one of the gentle creatures.

He was, admittedly, a little embarrassed. He’d never seen Sebastian get worked up like that.

“We’re going to find you one of those fat little sea cows,” Sebastian promised, getting a determined glint to his eyes.

“If they’re not around, they’re not around, Sebastian.”

“That’s a defeatist attitude.”

The ensuing Manatee Quest was frustrating; the sun was hot, Blaine was getting a little tired of paddling, and he was hungry. But every time he suggested they just turn back, Sebastian refused, stubbornly set on his goal. Nearly half an hour passed and Blaine was at the point of promising sexual favours if they could just get back on dry land when Sebastian froze and pointed with his paddle,

“Blaine,” he whispered, and it was odd enough to actually hear Sebastian say his name that Blaine set aside his grumpiness and followed Sebastian’s gaze.

Floating just beneath the surface was the soft, large brown shape of a manatee snuffling for food, her flippers stirring up the sand as she ran her muzzle through some pale vegetation. Blaine’s face broke into a wide grin, and his kayak gave a precarious wobble as he danced in place.

“Oh my gosh,” Blaine hissed, taking his camera out and getting a half-dozen pictures. With the manatee only five feet away and undisturbed by their presence, he got plenty of great shots. Then he set his camera down and just watched her, touched by the gentle aura she had, and how cute it was when she came up for air before getting back to eating.

“They’re closely related to elephants, you know,” Blaine told Sebastian, glancing over; Sebastian was gazing at him, not the manatee, a small smile on his face.

“Fat enough for it.” Sebastian chuckled. “But it’s cute.”

Their voices seemed to finally disturb her, or maybe there was no more sweet grass to eat, because the manatee started to slowly swim away. Blaine watched her go, then turned his attention back to Sebastian.

“Thank you, Sebastian.”

Something flickered across Sebastian’s face, and then he shrugged it off with a smile.

“Hey, I promised, didn’t I? Now come on, I’m starving.”

--

The sunny afternoon melted into a dreamy sorbet sunset.

They had lunched and then swam to their heart’s fill, but then as evening fell they ended up just walking the beach, kicking up sand and bumping elbows as they talked. They’d always been able to talk -- in high school it had been like that, before everything. Early mornings on the phone, late nights online, and all the little texts in between. Blaine had been lonely, and Sebastian had made that better.

“Before everything.” That was the catch.

And everything had confirmed what he had already known: that he couldn’t let himself get too attached. Because there had been a timer on that relationship, endlessly ticking away to an explosion that scattered every conversation they’d ever had into senseless words that he couldn’t reconcile.

He wondered what high school Blaine would have thought about him and Sebastian now.

Then again, it wasn’t high school Blaine’s life anymore. It was his. And he was a different person now. Which … wasn’t a scary thought the way it might have once been, because he had all the room in the world to grow now.

“I’m alive,” he abruptly said, and Sebastian winked at him.

“‘I am, I am, I am’?” Sebastian nodded to a nearby hotel, where a poolside party was thriving to pounding music that echoed across the beach. “Wanna celebrate?”

Blaine grinned, and followed Sebastian up the sand to a place where thick palms created a shadowy ladder to help scale the fence. They slipped into the crowds like they’d been there from the start and Blaine laughed at their boldness.

“We could have just gone in through the lobby.”

“If it’s all-inclusive? Nah.” Sebastian nudged him. “Besides, this is more fun.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Of course you can’t.”

Sebastian threw an arm over Blaine’s shoulders and they dove into the beating heart of the party where people undulated on masse to the beats the DJ was spinning. Blaine pressed up against Sebastian, smiling up at him as they danced. It was humid in a way that pressed a hot hand of storm promises down across their heads and dripped sweat down their backs, and he was hit by a wave of light-headedness as he watched the way Sebastian’s sharp gaze scanned the party, taking in everything.

Then Sebastian returned his attention to Blaine, smirking.

“I’m going to get drinks,” he said, and pressed a quick kiss to Blaine’s temple before he slipped away.

Left alone, Blaine peeled away from the many-headed beast of the dance floor to cool off, and came to circle the edges. The wind picked up, and he swore he could smell rain coming.

Blaine moved past an arrangement of white deck chairs filled with laughing, drinking people and found the fence that faced the beach. He leaned against it, looking out over the sand and water. There were clouds on the horizon, but he could still see moon and stars. Maybe he’d talk Sebastian into a night swim; a little dangerous, but they’d look out for each other.

Behind him the DJ shouted “IT’S ALWAYS BRILLIANT IN THE SUNSHINE STATE!” before blasting a mash-up of Mos Def’s Sunshine and Rihanna’s Diamonds. He started to tap his foot.

“You okay?”

Blaine half-expected Sebastian, though the voice was wrong. It was a stranger, attractive in an approachable way, smile crooked.

“Yes.” Blaine straightened as the guy joined him at the fence. “Just worried about rain, I guess.”

“Welcome to ‘the sunshine state’,” the guy said with a laugh. “It rains near every day. Hard.”

“Rainy season?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a local?”

“Born and raised.”

“It’s a beautiful place to grow up,” Blaine said, looking around them. The moon was barely half-full but it shone like a lantern, its twin in ripples across the ocean, colliding with the warm reflected light cast off by the hotels that turned the sand a riot of colours. Everything was gorgeous, even at night.

“Definitely,” the guy said. “You just have to hope a spring breaker doesn’t show up and hurl in your garden.”

Blaine winced. “I’m sorry.”

“We throw eggs at them. Mean, but effective.”

“It is your property.”

“Exactly.” The guy cast a once-over along Blaine’s body, and Blaine wasn’t quite sure if it was on the edge of too-friendly, but then again, one man casually approaching another like this was already on that edge. “So where are you from? Not a tourist destination, I’m guessing, you’re a little too surprised at how inconsiderate visitors can be …”

“Ohio,” Blaine said, which was enough. The guy groaned.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. That must have sucked.”

“All I can say is, I haven’t asked myself Why oh why did I leave Ohio quite yet.”

The guy looked at him blankly. “Uh …?”

“Wonderful Town? ‘Ohio ’? Doris Day?”

“I don’t know that album, sorry.”

“It’s a musical,” Blaine explained. “Basically, she’s singing about how she left Ohio for New York and wasn’t happy about it, before she gets her groove back in the city.”

“Okay, cool.” The guy nodded a little too fast. Blaine suspected he’d bored him, but to be fair the guy did try to rally himself. “Who’d complain about that, though? It’s a total trade up. I mean. Ohio.”

Blaine felt a twinge of annoyance. Making fun of Ohio was very much an Ohioan ex-pat thing, and everyone knew New York was a hard place to make it!

“It is,” Blaine said after a moment. “I went there after high school.”

“Very cool. Still there?”

“L.A., actually.”

“Actor?”

“Traveller,” Blaine replied, an answer he hadn’t thought of before but came out so easily it had to be the truth. He smiled, pleased.

“Travelling alone?”

“My brother and two friends. We have this old RV, we’re driving around in her.”

“Awesome.” The guy abruptly offered Blaine his drink. “Thirsty?”

“Uh. No, thank you.”

“If it’s a germ thing I can go get a new one, I know that can be kind of nasty with someone you just met --”

“I’m okay,” Blaine said, smiling politely. “I’m actually going to get back to the party, but thank you.”

He walked back to the party. He could have said he already had drinks coming and was with someone, which was true, but it didn’t feel necessary. What he did need? want? to do was find Sebastian. But he couldn’t see him, for all Sebastian was generally easy to spot, being so tall. So he dived back into the party, as Donna Summer chanted in the air.

Ooh Fallin' free, fallin' free Fallin' free, fallin' free Fallin' free Ooh

You and me, you and me You and me, you and me You and me

Ooh I feel love, I feel love I feel love, I feel love I feel love 

Blaine waded through the pool and checked out the swim-up bar, but Sebastian wasn’t there either. He climbed out and nearly fell back in when someone jostled him, but a girl grabbed his arm and hauled him up.

“Careful, honey!”

“Thank you!”

He would have chatted more because nice drunk girls were basically some of the best people ever, but then he spotted the guy he had been talking to earlier and had to dive to hide behind some tall guy. He was peeking out around the guy’s shoulder to see if he was in the clear when a low voice spoke in his ear, an arm snaking around his waist.

“Are we playing hide and seek, hot stuff?”

“Sebastian!” Blaine turned, relieved. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You did. But only for a little while.” Sebastian handed Blaine a cup then looked around the busy party with disdain. “Drink up, then let’s go. This place is dead.”

Blaine shook his head, smiling, and then took a deep breath before he chugged the purple-and-vodka tasting drink. Shuddering in the aftershock of the warmth blowing up in his chest, he followed Sebastian out of the crowds and over the fence once more, into the night.

--

There was a faint drizzle in the air the next morning; the rain last night had never come, but forecasts said it would pour today.

Blaine took his morning coffee (burnt, because Cooper had made it, and he liked it a little overcooked) and headed down to the beach, sitting on a log and looking out over the water, which had some mist clinging to its still surface. It was at odds of his mental image of sunny Florida, but it was beautiful. Rachel joined him with a herbal tea soon after, looking exhausted -- odd, since she and Cooper had claimed the loft, so they’d been a sight more comfortable than Sebastian and Blaine on the floor. Not to mention the awkwardness of sharing a room with Cooper at the moment in general; at one point Blaine had sworn he’d heard Cooper mutter something about how Sebastian was too tall for Blaine anyways and Rachel had shushed him. Blaine wondered if he should ask, but decided not to put Rachel in an awkward position.

Instead, he offered a cheerful, “Good morning.”

Rachel sniffed, sipping her tea. “Hi.”

Blaine paused at her tone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Like he believed that. Blaine frowned. “What’s wrong, Rachel?”

“It doesn’t matter …”

“Of course it does.”

There was a long pause as Rachel looked out over the sea.

“I called my dads last night,” she said, slowly rotating her mug, one of the smooth white ones from Cooper’s apartment back in L.A. -- when Blaine looked at it he was suddenly back there, Cooper sliding a mug across the table at him when he’d first arrived, asking, “Movie night? Your pick.” The memory brought a wave of tenderness with it, and Blaine had to look away. “They’re going to sell the house.”

“Oh, Rachel.” Blaine rubbed her back sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t even live there anymore,” she said, then looked at him, mouth trembling. “But it’s where I grew up. It’s -- home.”

“I know,” Blaine said softly. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, for lack of anything better to say.

“It’s okay,” she replied, leaning into him. “I just --” her voice tightened, and she fell silent.

Blaine tugged her closer, hugging her. “We can make new homes.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding against his shoulder. “We can.”

There was a shift in the sand behind them; Blaine looked to see Cooper, turned and walking away.

--

They left Fort Myers for Fort Lauderdale, and the skies opened up.

Kelly shook and rattled underneath the deluge that pounded against her metal frame, a loud pattering that made it sound like they were driving through a rock tumbler. There was no end to it either, as storm clouds rolled overhead for the hours they drove. Blaine leaned against the bookshelf with laptop in hand, typing up a journal entry; Sebastian mirrored him, their feet entangled, as he read another one of his mysterious novels (Emmanuelle; it was in French, and the cover looked rather erotic but Blaine guessed it was more of a cosmopolitan European thing than outright porn.) In the kitchen Rachel clattered away, humming to herself as she made a late breakfast, mood apparently improved. Cooper drove, and Blaine found himself looking at him more than a few times.

On way to Fort Lauderdale August 3rd, 2014

Cooper and I were raised by the same parents. Basically.

Our mom married my dad four years before I was born, so Cooper barely remembers life before him. But it was much harder for them than it was for me, people thinking my dad was up to something fishy when he picked Coop up from school, that kind of thing. They fought so much before Cooper left and now they almost never talk. Like we don’t have the same dad just because of blood. I know it brings my dad down. Mom, too. She only ever wanted us to be a family.

Cooper used to say I was an accident. That I was unwanted. Stupid kid stuff.

I still think about it sometimes, though.

“You should talk to him.”

“Huh?” Blaine looked over. Sebastian had an eyebrow raised.

“Your brother.”

“I don’t want to.”

Sebastian’s other eyebrow went up. “You keep stealing glances at him like you’re waiting to be asked to the dance.”

“First off, ew, second off, I’m just ... thinking.”

“Right, well, you could think up there --”

Blaine’s brow furrowed. “Leave it, okay?”

“I just --”

“Sebastian.” They both looked to Rachel, who got up. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”

“There’s a jar opener under the cupboard you know --”

“Sebastian,” she repeated, rather unsubtly tipping her head to the kitchen then glancing at Blaine, wide-eyed. “Come here.”

Sebastian paused, glanced at Blaine as well, then got up. Blaine watched him join Rachel into the kitchen, baffled. It wasn’t like there was much privacy to be had back there. Yet all he could hear when Sebastian got there was Rachel bossing him around, putting him to work chopping up nuts and Sebastian making his usual innuendos. Blaine shook his head, and returned his attention to his laptop, pulling up a game to play and putting his earbuds in.

He decided he didn’t want to hear anything, anyways.

--

It was still raining when they arrived, thick sheets that drowned the streets and made seeing much of anything impossible past the silvery waterfall that poured from the cloudy skies above.

“This is bullshit,” Sebastian said gloomily, hand stuck out the door, watching rain trail along his arm, soaking his sleeve. Cooper and Rachel were inside the nearby Starbucks, grabbing them some real coffee. “We’re at one of the best beach cities in the country and it’s dumping on us.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, leaning against the doorframe next to him, catching a hint of spray against his face. “Well, I’m sure there’s other stuff to do.”

Sebastian groaned. “I want to swim.”

“It might clear up,” Blaine said, just as lightning crashed a white line across the dark clouds and thunder tore the sky so loudly that it made his ears ring. He waited for it to die down before he spoke. “Or we could stay another day! It should be better tomorrow.”

“Nope,” Sebastian said. “Your charming brother’s back on his faster, pussycat, drive, drive mood.”

“Can’t wait for this trip to be over, probably,” Blaine said, drooping a little. “It hasn’t been very fun for him the past few days.”

“His own fault.” Sebastian pressed his wet hand to Blaine’s cheek, turning him into a kiss. “Let’s go find something else to do.”

He smirked suggestively, and Blaine raised an eyebrow, seeing right through that. “We can do that anytime. But we’re only here for today. I want to see things.”

“I can show you things,” Sebastian teased. “Very exciting things.”

“Things I can take pictures of?”

“My, my ... that’s encouraged, actually.”

“And send to my mom?”

Sebastian’s nose wrinkled. “Oh. Boring.”

“My professional photographer shouldn’t talk like that.”

“But you’re my muse,” Sebastian said. “And all good artists do what the art demands, not the other way around.”

“If I’m your muse, then I’m your art, in which case I can demand whatever I want, can’t I?”

“Is that so?” Sebastian’s hand slid to caress the back of Blaine’s neck, voice dropping. “Demand away, then.”

Blaine shivered, glancing out over the soaked street then back to Sebastian. “How long do you think the lines at the Starbucks are?”

“Long enough.” Sebastian tugged him away from the open door, closing it. “C’mon.”

Blaine headed for the loft but Sebastian pulled him into the tiny bathroom instead, their bodies pressed together, no room for so much as a breath between them. Blaine tipped his head back, trying to make eye contact, but Sebastian took tight hold of him by the hips and lifted him up, backing him up on the sink. He then leaned away to turn the shower on, and Blaine didn’t appreciate the distance. So he grabbed fistfuls of Sebastian’s shirt, yanking him against his mouth and between his legs, kissing him messily as Sebastian one-handedly tugged the door shut. He was grinning against Blaine’s mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Blaine mumbled, and Sebastian dragged his teeth down Blaine’s jaw to suck a kiss on his pulse point, injecting heat into his veins that grew and twined.

“Here I’ve been thinking that sleeping with you was moving me away from bathroom quickies …”

Blaine pulled back. “Our first time was in a bathroom,” he pointed out.

“Huh.” Sebastian got Blaine’s pants open and slipped his hand inside, sounding far too smug as his fingers curled, earning a thready gasp from Blaine. “Should we stop?”

“No, no, definitely not.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian asked lowly against Blaine’s neck as his thumb started to move in a lazy, firm stroke along Blaine’s dick, and Blaine glowered as he panted.

“You literally have me by the balls, jerk, so --”

Sebastian squeezed and Blaine groaned, his hips jerking. “Good point. You’re a smart one, Anderson.”

“I try.” Blaine dragged his hand down for a little revenge, though he wasn’t quite as good at undoing belts one-handed as Sebastian the master. Sebastian sensed this, and chuckling he moved to help. Soon Blaine had his hand wrapped around Sebastian’s heavy cock, tugging him free so he could start a slow, sure pace. “I wish we had a hotel room.”

“What?” Sebastian asked, and Blaine was satisfied by the hitch in Sebastian’s voice, the faint flush rising high on his cheeks. “Fully clothed handies don’t get you going?”

Blaine laughed breathlessly. “It gets me going, sure, so much so I wanna -- oh -- take it to a bed so you can fuck me properly.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened, and then he was kissing Blaine again, open-mouthed and dirty. Blaine moved with the tidal wave energy of it, head thumping against the mirror as he drew his arm around the back of Sebastian’s neck, holding him close. They curved together, hands jerking in shallow movements between their bodies, the steam of the shower the only thing between them as it curled its fingers hungrily around, between, over, under them, hotly fogging up the air.

Blaine’s whole body was spiking higher and higher when Sebastian abruptly pulled away, mouth reddened and voice ragged. “You know I can go book us a hotel room right now --”

“If you move an inch you’ll be in that room alone,” Blaine threatened, and Sebastian exhaled roughly, a world of heady promise in his eyes, before he kissed Blaine again.

Sebastian’s hand squeezed, wrist twisting, and Blaine moaned, sound lost in the rattle of the shower and their heavy breathing. Sebastian’s tongue curled against Blaine’s, teasing lightly in sweet contrast to the solid press and hold of him everywhere else. Blaine ground his hips in jerky little circles, thrusting into the tight hole of Sebastian’s fist, sucking on Sebastian’s tongue as he came, shuddering and arching up against Sebastian’s strong chest. Sebastian groaned, and shifted, letting go of Blaine’s dick to curl his hand around his own, around Blaine’s hand as well, moving them together in short, fast strokes, head tipped forward as he panted, Blaine’s mouth pressed wetly to Sebastian’s forehead. He felt the minute tensing of Sebastian’s whole body when he came with a grunt.

“Jesus,” Sebastian said after a moment, barking out a laugh. “You know, quick and dirty handjobs with you are better than most anything else I’ve had.”

Blaine smiled lazily, unsticking himself from the sweaty, steamy, tangled mess they’d become. “I like that.”

“You should.” Sebastian tried to stretch, and winced when his hands hit the ceiling. He turned around to shut off the shower and Blaine burst out laughing. “What?”

“Your back,” Blaine said, and Sebastian looked over his shoulder, then grinned himself. His back and legs were wet -- clearly the shower had gotten him. “You didn’t notice?”

“I was a little distracted at the time.”

“I like that, too.” Blaine hesitated, then added, “I like you.”

Sebastian’s response came almost too easily, all things considered.

“Yeah, champ, I like you too.”

And what the hell did you do with that?

--

Cooper and Rachel (sitting up front, blasting music and drinking coffee) clearly knew exactly what had been going on in the bathroom, but much to Blaine’s surprise Cooper didn’t say a word.

Maybe it was because when he got up Rachel got up too and ended up clinging to him, chest pushed up against his arm in a way Blaine had noted girls tended to do when they were steering their boyfriends like show ponies.

Thank you, Rachel, he mentally signalled to her, and with the understanding that made them such great stage partners, she winked back.

Sebastian was, of course, shameless, though he kept a healthy distance between him and Cooper as he grinned widely and declared:

“So … what do we do today? I’m feeling … energized.”

--

They ended up at the International Swimming Hall of Fame, and after peeking in on the Olympic-level swimming pool, they ended up browsing quiet exhibits of medals and suits and photographs in glass cases against white walls.

It was interesting enough, but Baine was already thinking about their next destination. It didn’t help that swimming wasn’t a sport he’d ever been particularly intrigued by, though all the pictures of half-naked guys dripping with water were more than welcome. As was Sebastian leaning in to breathe in his ear, “I used to wear a speedo just like that for competitions. Maybe I’ll dig it out again for you if you ask very, very nicely.” And Blaine had been left flushed and warm and wishing they had a separate hotel room for the night because seriously.

He absently thought he’d never been this horny for someone in his life, which should maybe make him feel guilty, but all he felt was free.

After that they went to the Museum of Art, which was already plenty beautiful on the outside, curved and strong and featuring sculptures. One of the large white walls also had a funky dripping pattern painted on its side like a blanket had been draped on the roof, its colours so bright even the rain couldn’t dampen it. The rain had dampened them however; even with umbrellas in hand and doing their best to leap across puddles they still caught the consequences of the storm. (It didn’t help that Blaine had detoured to admire the outside, with Sebastian, who complained the whole time about melting but still took full advantage of the fact that they were sharing an umbrella to hold Blaine very close.) As they entered and Sebastian bought their tickets, Blaine looked mournfully down at his shoes, which looked water-stained.

He really should have just worn his sneakers, but he and Kurt had always agreed that doing that outside of exercise should have been the dictionary definition of “tacky.”

“These cost two hundred dollars,” he said plaintively to Sebastian, who was of course bemused as he handed Blaine his ticket.

“They’re shoes, you could probably get a pair just like that at Payless.”

“I could not,” Blaine said, as they entered the gallery proper, “and you can’t act like you would ever shop there. Your wardrobe is all labels.”

“My mom buys them. Or they’re Christmas gifts. I don’t exactly hit up the mall.” Sebastian tugged on the collar of his shirt. “And I guess she has good taste or whatever.”

“You do look handsome,” Blaine said, and Sebastian’s hands dropped from their fidgeting and a pleased smile flicked across his face. Had Sebastian been feeling insecure? It wasn’t a word he’d ever associate with Sebastian, but then again, he’d never have called him introverted either. Maybe Blaine’s opinion mattered to Sebastian, even on a topic Blaine was sure Sebastian was mentally labelling ‘too gay.’

“You have good taste too,” Sebastian told Blaine, his smile now mischievous, and took Blaine’s hand as they came to a stop at the first painting. Blaine was very aware that they’d been doing a lot of hand-holding of late, and in his fascination with Sebastian’s hands (so very him, strong and agile and clever, the occasional beauty mark along a swoop of his palm) he found he had no problem with it. It could have been confusing, but Blaine was determined not to overthink it. Instead he squeezed Sebastian’s hand and smiled at how Sebastian squeezed back.

“So this is a joke, right? I mean, clowns? Who paints clowns except for serial killers?”

“You don’t think they’re cheerful?”

“I know you’re Mr. Blue Sky, but even you can’t think these aren’t creepy.”

“... Okay, yes, it’s creepy.”

Laughing, they moved on to the next one, and Sebastian continued to critique each art piece like he was a supervising editor of Art Review. It was funny, but Blaine had to keep looking around to make sure they weren’t offending or annoying anyone in earshot, since he had this nightmare image of one of the artists being at the gallery that day and this breaking their spirit.

They were alone, though. They’d already lost Cooper and Rachel and it seemed the rain had turned down attendance because the only other people there looked to also be tourists, seeking diversion during the storm, and there weren’t many of them -- Blaine was sure more were at the casino. All the better; Blaine had found trips to the MoMA a little stifling because of the crowds. Starry Night had filled him with powerful, unnameable emotions, ones which hindsight had coalesced into understanding, but it had also been intruded on by the dozens of people around it, taking pictures and jostling him in search of a better angle. There are pictures online, he’d wanted to shout, but tamped it down and let Kurt tug him away, trying to shake his sudden melancholia so he could share Kurt’s excitement about the beautiful use of colour in the next painting.

“A shirt with that pattern,” Kurt had said, eyes bright and lovely with possibility. “Don’t you think?”

And Blaine had only needed to smile and nod and sometimes it had been so, so easy.

“Deep thoughts, Anderson?”

Blaine glanced over at Sebastian, who was giving Blaine’s hand another squeeze and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Blaine knew why; he had agreed with Sebastian’s assessment of the painting (a little cottage by the sea which was “so over-produced I bet they just bought it from Pottery Barn”) and thus had no reason to be thinking it over too much.

“I was thinking about … the MoMA.”

“Ah.” Sebastian’s nose wrinkled briefly. “New York.” He looked back at the painting and with a casual air said, “That place was too crowded.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, a surprised smile flickering across his face. “It was.”

“But that’s the problem with doing touristy crap. You know how I made Paris a home instead of just a pitstop? I went where nobody else did.”

Blaine looked around the near-empty gallery, then back to Sebastian, unsure if this qualified. The old worry, of boring Sebastian, swept over him again.

“Then let’s find a place like that,” Blaine said, stepping away and tugging Sebastian along with him. “Just you and me.”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to smile, surprised, and the gaze he offered Blaine as he followed Blaine out of the gallery was one that slipped in with careful ease underneath Blaine’s skin. It sank deep and touched somewhere inside him as thoroughly and as unfathomably as the golden spirals beckoning across a blue nighttime sky had, once upon a time. Blaine could think of maybe-names for it, but none of them really did it justice. Some things were better expressed in finding a little hidey-hole bookshop and café, in having his hand held across the driftwood table, in ordering a ridiculously large bowl-shaped cup of coffee with extra whipped cream for the blatant excuse to have the lingering sweetness kissed off his mouth, in picking up a book and reading it aloud amidst snarky comments and teasing asides.

Some things simply -- were.

tbc

[grs-the-neighborhood]

Name: Dion T. Hernandez 

 Age: 18 

 Gender: Male (He/Him) 

 Birthday (Zodiac): April 23rd (Taurus) 

 Species: Human/Petrosapien Race/Nationality: Afro-Hispanic/Alien Native Language(s): English and Spanish (Knows the basics and tries to learn more) 

 Sexuality:Heterosexual (Straight) 

 Height:6'7" (In Petrosapien form his grows to a full 7 ft.) ___________________________________________________ 

 Alignment: Synonymous, Stormbreaker (However is known to help the Vanguard when he can)

 Powers/Abilities: 

- Crystallokinesis (Able to access in both forms) 

 - Hardend Skin (In human form due to his Petrosapien nature his skin is a bit harder than most humans) 

 - Crystaline Constructs (Able to access in both forms)

 - Shard Projectiles (Able to access in both forms)

 - Explosive Projectiles (Able to access in both forms) 

 - Weapon Manifestation (Able to access in both forms)

 - Regeneration (Only helpful in Petrosapien form. In human form it takes time for broken limb or missing one to comeback. Missing limbs are a month. Maybe half a month if he is lucky.) 

 - Body Alteration (Only helpful in Petronsapien form) - Heat Resistance (In human form this only helps so much. In human form he can take up to 120 degrees.)

 - Energy Refraction/Energy Redirection (When parts of his body turn into some form of Petrosapien this is most effective) 

 - Enhanced Strength (Able to access in both forms)

 - Enhanced Durability (Able to access in both forms)

 - Enhanced Dexterity (Able to access in both forms)

- Fighting Styleion prefers to fight up close and personal. Yet in a serious fight he will use his long range abilities. ______________________________________________________

 Background: Well this is a tell as old as time really. In some odd way. Okay no not really. You see Tetrax Shard met Ira Whilhem under strange circumstances. Tetrax was look for a bounty on earth so he decided to lay low. Also with his advanced tech he could blend right in with the life forms of the planet. One fateful day he was at a bar when, he heard a commotion. A woman was being harassed by a couple of guys. Tetrax knowing he shouldn't get involved did so anyway. Curse his morales am I right? Anyway he ended up saving the woman and, getting her a drink. Now most human drinks don't have affects on alien life forms. Depending on the species mind you. Yet for Tetrax he was doing fine. The woman on the other had wasn't she had 4 shots of whiskey. Tetrax decided to stop her after she tried to drink another shot. She failed and spilled the whiskey on him. Which annoyed him but, made her laugh. Tetrax would get her home. She was too drunk to realize she was on a hover board. Before he left he got two things that night. A kiss on the cheek and the woman's name. Her name was Ira Whilhem. After that night they would bump into each other for odd reasons. They continued to chat and, grew closer. Tetrax while cautious about this was slowly falling for this earth woman. Ira was a part time singer and, vocal coach. The more Tetrax was getting closer too Ira, the more he realized what it all meant. Especially since he was closing in on his bounty. They had been talking for 6 months. They had grown very close. One the days away from their final goodbyes, Tetrax decided to be honest with Ira. He rented a hotel room for the two of them and, once in the room told her everything. Now she did what every woman would do in this situation. She passed out. After awhile once she calmed down everything was explained. Ira while a bit scared still felt love in her heart for the alien. So long story short, yes they did the nasty. Three days later, Tetrax had to leave. He captured his bounty. They parted ways but, since then their love for each other still stays strong. Dion was born a few years later.

 Personality: Dion is a tad stubborn. Not willing to move on a position or choice unless he must. This trait is both good and bad in combat. For his allies it can help them or harm them. For his enemies they can be in trouble or get him in the trap they set. Under his soft Dion under his stern exterior is a softie when it comes to younger kids. Becoming like a big brother or guardian for anyone he comes close to. Known to become reckless and very violent if anyone he deems close is in danger. Even being selfless and getting in harms way. Causing himself severe injuries. Loves anime mainly Digimon, Bleach, One Piece, and Gundam. Which sadly pops up in battle where he names his attacks. Also shitty puns and jokes. He loves them, especially dad jokes. 

 Appearance: His human form is dark skinned and a lean muscular. Keeping his hair in a ponytail so it doesn't get in the way. Along with some facial hair that he keeps in three lines on his chin. His training clothes are might of a durable matrial able to take a hit and able to handle his change of form. Black and grey are the primary colors. Black jogging pants with dark grey knee pads. Black and grey combat boots. Though not needed he wears a belt on his waist. A purple colored plumbers badge. Grey wrist bands. His Petrosapien form is a bit bigger. Most of where his skin would be is a turquoise colored crystal. Two horns on the side of his head that go back. Two back spikes of the same color. The scar on his face remains. Clothes stay the same. (Link to see his Petrosapien form) sta.sh/020zl0lctjvq 

 Eye shape/color: Yellow 

 Hair style/color: An black afro which he puts in a ponytail Outfit style: Other than his normal combat/training clothes he wears anything that is relaxing. He likes shorts or pants with multiple pockets. Jogging pants. Other than boots he likes to wear, the guy loves sneakers and sandals. Normally he rather not wear a shirt but, if he must then it has stupid pun.

 Accessories: Other than his wristbands his grandmother gave him a silver cross necklace. He doesn't wear it unless he has an off day or going into a high risk combat situation. Markings (birthmarks, scars, etc): - Scar under his right eye caused by Drake when he spoke out against him in a heated argument. This was before Dion's hardened skin set in.

 - Blast mark on the center his chest caused by an intense laser beam.

 - Birthmark is near his junk on the inner right thigh. It looks like a the state of Florida. Relationships: He has his mother and father. Both teach their son different things. While Monica teaches her son culture and normal every day life. Tetrax teaches him combat and other methods of his trade. He tends to bump heads with them when they want him to join hero life.

 Ben Tennyson stops by to talk with him everyonce in awhile. Using Ben to vent when he feels down about making the choice or when he is forced to be a hero in some way. His connection with his grandma is much deeper. Selena just spoils him a lot. Yet also acts as a morale guide. 

 The only friends he has are Kingsley and Renne. Both who he made completely by accident. Having discovered their secret relationship early on they basically begged him to make sure he doesn't tell. Later on though they found out they have small things in common. So a friendship just kinda grew. Drake and Dion bump heads due to being polite opposites. Dion think Drake is just jealous that he has more freedom than the young head villain. 

 Relatives: Monica Hernandez (Mom) Selena Hernandez (Grandma) Tetrax (Dad) ben10.wikia.com/wiki/Tetrax_Sh… (Original Series) _______________________________

 Quotes: 

 "Look you have the potential to be a hero? Why don't you just join. We'd love to have you." Kingsley would say as he watched his friend workout. Dion would chuckle and sigh. 

 "So persistent aren't yah?" The dark skinned male would say looking at his bashful friend. He knew Kingsley would ask. It came up often but, he would sign.

 "Look being a hero is nice but, I rather do things my way okay? I'm not fond of hero rules." Dion would explain as he put the weight down and sat up to look at his friend.

 ~~ 

"Tell me how is that scar treating you?" A smug voice would speak. Dion knew that voice and cringed, turning around he would see a face he wouldn't mind breaking again. 

 "What do you want lizard lips?" Dion would snort looking at Drake. 

Drake would laugh a bit. 

 "Is that anyway to speak to your elder?" 

 "What by a year? Speak quick or I break your nose again and, aim to break your damn jaw."

 He snarks glaring at Drake who gave his a level look. This would turn ugly quick if Drake didn't speak quickly.