#Sam crosses the line “sort of” sequel

[zepskies]

Omgosh I loveeee the imagines for Sam having a crush on deans gf!!! And the part 2 SO ANGSTY. And you write dean and readers interactions so well! (Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this) But I'm so curious to know how the conversation went between Dean and the reader after finding out! I just need to know how dean talks about the situation with them!! Anyway HAVE A GREAT DAY 🩷🩷

Hello my lovely anon!

I'm so glad you enjoyed those angsty little imagines. 😂 For those who don't know, they're referring to these:

You are Dean's one exception. (In which Sam is in love with Dean's girlfriend - and how Dean reacts.)

Sam crosses the line. (The sequel: Sam finally sees his chance with you after he's hit by a witch's spell.)

I tried to imply what followed between the reader and Dean after this section:

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest.

Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat.

But since you asked so nicely, this is my headcanon for that conversation between the reader and Dean (after Sam is knocked out by Rowena lol):

Of course, you would demand to know why Dean didn't tell you earlier.

Your heart and mind are a maelstrom of emotions: shock, not wanting to believe it's true, anger and hurt at both of these men for lying to you for so long about what's been going on.

Because a lie of omission is still a damn lie.

Dean is quiet at first, and you're forced to read into his silence. You peer at him closer, grabbing his wrist.

"Dean...did you really think it would change anything?" you ask incredulously.

His brows furrow. "No."

But you don't quite believe him.

"I just...didn't want you to have to deal with this shit, that's all," he eventually admits.

Your eyes narrow as you stare up at his face. You're trying to discern the truth.

"Is that really why?" you ask.

"Yeah, okay?" His voice is gruff and frustrated.

You move in closer, gripping the open edges of his plaid shirt. He knows what you're demanding in your gentle silence.

Don't lie to me.

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, a tender gesture that softens him. Your thumb brushes across his lower lip.

"Good," you reply. "Because if I have to remind you that I am entirely, undeniably, irrevocably in love with you, then I might just have to punish you."

A slow smirk spreads across your man's face.

"Oh yeah?" he says. His hands find your hips, drawing you closer. You're satisfied by the hint of doubt washing away from his demeanor. From his tight shoulders loosening.

"Just outta curiosity, what might that entail?" Dean asks.

Your lips curve. "Oh, you'll find out, after we fix your brother... Dean, I'll need to talk to him."

Dean's burgeoning good humor fades, but you take his face in both your hands and make sure he meets your gaze. You are firm in your convictions, and he sees that.

He nods in acceptance, before he dips down to press his lips to yours. It's gentle at first, but all too soon becomes claiming, born of hidden frustration and passion.

When he parts from you, it's slow, reluctant. His fingers draw a strand of hair behind your ear.

In his eyes, you see the true depths of him. Something not many people get to see.

It's there that you always know that you're loved.

I hope that satisfied you, my dear! 😘 I miiiiight do a more official 3rd part to this imagine-verse where Sam gets his happy ending (with Eileen).

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[avocado-frog]

notes on wip drafts because it's been about a year since I've been posting here and because i have not posted real writing stuff in ages and because i'm awesome and i can do whatever i want

really long watch out

Draft 1- -Characters: Leo, Cass, Marcy, Kai, Addy -Leo + Cass are twins, Marcy is their adoptive sister from France, Addy was their adoptive sister from Ireland, Kai was Leo's friend from school -Written in first person POV -The twins were 14, Kai was 13, Marcy was 12, Addy was 11 -Written sometime late 2019 on Wattpad -Written during my ninja turtles era, each character loosely based on one of the turtles + April (Leo as Leonardo, Cass as Donatello, Addy as Michelangelo, Marcy -Leo's full name really is just Leo and no last name -Leo gets a wolverine claw sort of thing that is also a flamethrower -Leo gets in a fight with Marcy over a board game, runs off, gets stolen right out of the woods for Plot Purposes, goes missing for like six months, the other kids get exactly one chapter of looking for her, and then there's three chapters of Mind Control Leo -The end of the first draft was between my ninja turtles hyperfixation and my tangled the series hyperfixation and I know this because I had a song chapter of crossing the line between the twins

Draft 2- -Characters: Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy -Written in first person POV -Written a month or two after the first draft -Mostly the same plot but Leo is taken to a cabin instead of a warehouse -Didn't last very long, because it was really only Leo and writing a story with only one character is sort of hard

Draft 3- -Characters: Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy -Leo and Kai were romantically involved (ew) -First person POV -Same ages as the other two -Kai follows Leo before she gets kidnapped, somehow they end up in Canada -First establishes the setting in Maine -Leo burns down the cabin with a match (the kids don't have magic yet) -Kai and Leo spend way too much time trying to get from Canada to Maine -Like they go to Mexico for some reason -I remember writing the last chapter during online history class with the Worst Teacher Ever in seventh grade so I had to have been like 13-14/mid 2021 because I started going half online half offline sometime in April

Draft 4- -Characters: Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy, Ryan, Sam, Elliot -Written when I started getting into DuckTales. Hence the triplets -They're seven years old -Created so that Leo + Kai have more stakes -They save the triplets but at the cost of me losing motivation after that

Draft 5- -Characters: Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy, Ryan, Sam, Elliot -But I got attached to their characters so I kept them -It changed to third person POV -Leo's full name is Leonidas for fucking no reason -Kai is no longer part of the main plot and no longer a love interest because I didn't like writing it -The triplet's backstory is that they're the kids of the people that have stolen Leo, but that their mother died when they were like two -So now they're locked in a basement and so is Leo -Elliot's completely blind -Leo once again saves the kids but has a villain arc in the process -Proceeds to kidnap Cass with a stolen car, builds a robot army, gets blown up -Brief redemption arc follows after Leo goes to jail for a bit

Draft 6- -Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy, Ryan, Sam, Elliot, Logan (Lily, Dylan, and Jaxon are there, but they aren't named) -The longest one I have -Written a little while after draft five, because I wanted to give Leo some friends in jail -Leo breaks out of jail with the other kids, but Logan is the only named one -And he has a wildly different name but I'm not going to tell you what it was -The first time I decided to give the twins magic. Since the other three were side characters and horribly underdeveloped they didn't get anything. Leo gets decay and fire, Cass gets healing and plants -Logan goes back to jail but Leo doesn't. Logan's magic involves metal and ice -First lab concept, but the kids are in prison

Draft 6's sequel -Some Prophecy Bullshit -The kids have to go find Logan (he's sixteen or something) -They get him out of jail, he steals a school bus -I can't remember much, I abandoned it when I couldn't figure out what to do with the prophecy bullshit. Something about portals

Draft 6's third book -Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy, Ryan, Sam, Elliot, Logan, Lily, Jaxon, Dylan -Lasted like three chapters -I wrote it while I was figuring out what to do with the sequel -But Jaxon, Lily, and Dylan show up -Jaxon and Dylan were 12 and 11, and Lily was 13 (twins are still 14) -Lily was Leo's new romantic interest (this is why Leo is canonically bi) -Jaxon and Dylan were placeholder names -I can't remember whether Dylan was always deaf or not, I deleted the thing -Written in 2021

Draft 7- -Leo, Cass, Kai, Marcy, Addy, Ryan, Sam, Elliot, Logan, Lily, Dylan, Jaxon -A rewrite of draft 6, but meets the other kids + Logan -Leo overthrows the government with them

Draft 8- -Instead of going to jail, Leo meets them because she gets jumped in an alley by Jaxon and Logan makes him leave her alone -Her villain arc includes them now -Concept that Leo can't be burned because of her fire magic -The triplets are adopted by Kai's family, they get a larger role

Draft 9- -Logan is a little nicer now, he lets Leo stay with her, and does not like her family -He's got beef with seven-year-olds -Not many changes, I just wanted to write it again -The lab is introduced but I didn't really have any ideas for it -I posted this one

Draft 9's sequel- -Sort of like draft 6's sequel, wanted to try again -Characters with a villain arc in draft 9/the sequel: Leo, Jaxon, Lily, Dylan, Logan, Elliot, Cass, Ryan -Characters without a villain arc in draft 9/the sequel: Kai, Marcy, Sam, Addy -The earliest version of forget-me-not chapter 17 (Ryan gets pushed into a lake and nearly drowns) here it's he falls into a lake while the kids are trying to learn to water raft (in both versions, he's alone with Jaxon) -Elliot, the blind seven-year-old child, gets a villain arc -I remember this specifically because Leo has a line like "can't we just pick him up and put him somewhere else??" -I know for a fact that Dylan is deaf here -Because I still have this version -For some reason, Sam has a snake -Leo's afraid of snakes and Marcy is afraid of ducks -or something?? -Written June 2021

Draft 10- -The whole story is completely scrapped -Written in December 2021 -With six months between drafts nine and ten, I decided to redo a lot of plot stuff -Logan is aged up to eighteen, Dylan remains eleven, Jaxon remains twelve, and Lily is thirteen. The triplets are aged up to ten. The twins are fourteen still -Logan is aged up because he buys a house -Triplet's backstory is changed. Their names are briefly changed to Adrian, Emile, and Ethan -Logan's sister, Jasmine, is created for the first time, just to be immediately killed -One of the closest to canon -Part one is Leo, part two is Jaxon, part three is Elliot -Leo runs away after learning the truth about her parents (they're really her parents here) (whatever the truth is is not expanded on because I never got farther than an outline) and meets Jaxon, because they're both in the middle of robbing a gas station -Cass does not join Leo in meeting them -The first time it was set in 2018-2019 -The first time I allowed myself to use swears The outline since I have it (but it's the tldr version) 1- Leo is a drug dealer (?? girl-) 2- The twins fight, Addy gives Leo a clue about their parents (how does she know) (never expanded on) 3- The twin's birthday, Kai's POV, he's roped into the situation by Cass 4- Leo runs away, steals a car, and meets Jaxon while they're robbing a gas station 5- Jaxon and Leo officially meet, during a storm, Jaxon breaks into her hotel room because he's figured out that she's magic 6- Jaxon and Leo get a Subway sandwich, and Jaxon bullies Logan into letting Leo live with them 7- Lily and Leo set up Leo's room 8- Leo and Dylan go to the store, Dylan sees their parents + gets upset over it. Leo + Dylan bonding hours 9- Leo and Jaxon go to the lab 10- They meet Ryan and Sam. Sam's been poisoned, Ryan doesn't know the antidote. Since the twist is that Leo made the drugs used on them, she knows what to do. Jaxon gets Elliot 11- Logan lets the triplets live with them 12- Jaxon tries to set up Lily and Leo 13- The Christmas chapter (an actual line from the outline: "Leo doesn't respond because she's too gay and ice skating with her girlfriend") 14- A lot like forget me not where Elliot overhears that the twins are his sisters and he gets upset, but this time, since the twins are not related to them, he overhears that Leo made the drugs used on him 15- Jaxon's backstory. No elaboration in the outline I was just supposed to hope for the best 16- Ryan is only now learning sign language for Dylan, Lily talks to Elliot with throwing knives, Logan + Sam bonding hours 17- Another version- ironically chapter seventeen- where Jaxon is the only one around when Ryan gets pushed into a lake. This time he lands himself in the hospital for trying to save him because he can't swim 18- The kids find out that Jax is brain damaged 19- Logan convinces Leo to text Cass (she has not talked to Cass since chapter two) 20- The kids go to Maine for a week. Cass, Kai, Marcy, and Addy are all really weirded out by Leo's character development which is honestly really fair 21- Elliot + Cass talk hours 22- The kids go to a carnival 23- Sam apologizes for What He Did (not elaborated on) and Elliot goes bonkers mode 24- Elliot meets "Lucas" who tells him that Lily can help 25- Lily Knows Something (not elaborated on) that apparently has to do with their mother's death for some reason. Not a clue how Lily should know, she's about as detached from their backstory as one could get 26- I had only written "figure it out from here" and since forget me not is based on this outline (with a lot of changes) it's probably the reason I forgot to make a canon outline for chapter 26 27- Triplet backstory 28- Ryan sees Elliot talking to himself in the mirror 29- Elliot learns to use his magic properly 30- The triplets fight 31- Elliot dies

Draft 10 sequel -Lasted one chapter but it was alright -Elliot's dead but some weird infection bullshit happens (plot of Dahlia) -Like a zombie apocalypse -Also Leo's thing with classic novels is established -Leo has a Frankenstein motif the whole time -All I remember is that Leo became some weird demon thing and tried to kill Jaxon over it

Draft 11- -Final canon forget-me-not -Written about a year ago (I know this because I made the outline a day before my last day of school to see if I could finish by the end of summer) (I could not) -I cut Addy out because I didn't like her -Logan was aged to 22, the twins to 16, Kai and Lily to 15, Jaxon to 14, Dylan remained 11, and the triplets remained 10 -I struggled for a while before outlining to come up with a title, it was going to be different nursery rhymes, and then different songs, and then random synonyms for fire, before I decided I liked flowers -So each character was given a flower -Instead of coming up with names for titles, I attached dates so that I could stress myself out with a timeline 👍

Some other extra things: -Jaxon had tourettes but I forgot -Leo was trans but now Jaxon is -I had a version that was like 500 words long where Ryan just goes on a stab people spree -Elliot had cataracts for a minute -The triplet's mother's name was Amelia for a long time

[thnxforknowingme]

My fic year in review 2022

Copying @forabeatofadrum because I like to talk about myself and this seems like a fun end-of-year reflection. If any other writers see this and want to do it, please do!

Fics I wrote:

True Colors

The Feeling's Plain to Me

In Orbit

these bodies are hoping to get addicted to sound

Miles To Go

Courting Royalty

Cohabiting

Confluence

Connecting

Peaches

Roots

Babysitting

A Matter of Distance

Texts With Benefits

The Some Kind of Summer series

A World to Rediscover

The Mattress

Naughty and Oh, So Nice

Questions and thoughts below:

Best/worst title?

I hate titling stories, so honestly I'm not totally satisfied with any of my titles. Courting Royalty is probably my most clever - it's thematically relevant, a pun, and isn't just a lyric or literary reference. The worst title is these bodies are hoping to get addicted to sound because it's SO LONG WHY DID I DO THIS?

Best/worst summary?

I'm pretty happy with the summary for Miles To Go, because I feel like it gets at the tone and plot of the story without giving too much away:

In the wake of Finn’s death, Kurt struggles to keep up with schoolwork at NYADA or engage with his life in general. He finally finds purpose again when he decides to spend the summer venturing west, to scatter Finn’s ashes in the Pacific Ocean. The road trip is long and lonely and challenging, but Kurt’s luck starts to turn around when he meets a handsome man named Blaine, who’s heading to California for his own reasons. After crossing paths in Colorado, they decide to travel together. As they get closer to the west coast they start to let down their walls, learning more about each other and revealing what they’re really seeking on this trip.

The worst summary is probably The Feeling's Plain to Me, because it's so nondescript and boring, but I feel like I can get away with it because it's a sequel:

Ficlets set in the same ‘verse as It’s Who I’m With. What did Kurt and Blaine get up to in between Christmas and St. Patrick’s Day?

Best/worst first line?

If I have to pick a best, it might be Confluence, because I feel like it packs a lot into one sentence:

Charades and fishbowl were the first-choice games to get drunk during in the Bushwick loft, but sometimes the roommates wanted a quicker avenue to intoxication - in which case they played King’s Cup.

This is kind of cheating because Courting Royalty really opens with a magazine article, but the first line of narration is probably my favorite opening:

When Rachel had told Kurt that she was secretly a European princess, he was 100% certain that it was a scam.

I don't have anything that stands out to me as "worst" - just a few pretty mediocre ones.

Best/worst last line?

I'm gonna say that the best is True Colors, because it's decently long and interesting:

But she smiled at her reflection - pink hair and ratty clothes and eyes bright with the sheen of intoxication - because she was free, and she was excited to figure out who the hell this new self was.

I think worst is probably Confluence. Not because it's particularly bad, but because I realize it's the second time this year I ended a fic with "Blaine follows Kurt out of bed for post-sex showering," and this ending line is the less interesting version of that:

“Ours,” Blaine agreed, and then pushed himself out of bed to follow his breathtaking naked fiancé to the shower.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Way more! I feel like I was constantly writing this year. I did not expect to both have so many ideas and be able to deliver on so many of them.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Uhhhh I mean I never expected to write a Kurt/Blaine/Sam threesome, let alone multiple fics about it, let alone spark a whole impromptu fest about it. This started as one sort of silly idea - the observation that both Kurt and Blaine had crushed on Sam and then ended up living with him - that other people took and built on, inspiring me and others to keep writing more.

Relatedly, I also didn't expect to write real actual smut, but we'll get back to that later.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Ooof. I mean, I don't publish anything that I'm not proud of, and it's hard to pick my favorite child. If I had to choose one story that I'm the proudest of (saying it makes me happy is a little weird, although it does), it's probably Miles To Go. I know I've talked a lot about it elsewhere, but I think it's the most impressive work I've made this year, and there are so many scenes that I just love (the WHOLE Vegas sequence, man, I love myself for that).

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

By pretty much any metric, it's In Orbit. I'm immensely surprised and pleased that so many people enjoyed it. It meant a lot to me, and god was it fun to write.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

This year it looks like it was True Colors, which has existed for just under a year and has 50 hits. I get it - it's a gen fic, a character study of Quinn - but I'm really proud of that story. It was one of those delightful creative exercises where I got to dive into the weird complexities of what characters might be going through emotionally, giving a little more weight and reality to the high-drama insanity that is Glee.

Story that could have been better?

I think it's Courting Royalty. I adored that prompt, and was so happy to write for it. I think it could have been a much more expansive story - there's so much to explore in the idea of surprise teenage royalty, and honestly it could have used more humor and hijinks. But I knew going in that I had to keep the scope pretty limited. I had just finished writing Miles To Go, which was 35k that I wrote in like, 2 months? I was tired, and on a deadline for the bang, so I kept it pretty succinct while still telling a complete story. I have some vague ideas for a sequel, so hopefully I can return to that world someday and expand on it.

Sexiest story?

Gotta be Confluence. It wasn't the first E-rated fic that I wrote, but it was the most like..."this is just a story about sex" fic that I wrote. I still kind of can't believe I did it.

Saddest story?

Miles To Go. It's about grief, and loss, and figuring out how to move forward from that. I'm happy with how I portrayed that, and if I did my job right I made some readers cry.

Most fun?

Maybe these bodies? It was sexy and fun, I got to throw in a little Kurtbastian to a Klaine story, and there was something very entertaining about Blaine's mix of immense guilt and immense horniness.

Story with single sweetest moment?

I don't think I write terribly treacly scenes. What comes to mind is the end of In Orbit - because the boys had been through a lot, so the epilogue was pretty damn sweet.

Hardest story to write?

Probably Naughty and Oh, So Nice. I was SO not inspired for this one. I wanted to write a Kublam Christmas fic - because, I don't know, there was something there about the warmth of the holidays mixed with the excitement of seeing old friends mixed with the dizzying possibilities of "seeing" old "friends" wink-wink-nudge-nudge. But then I was just not in a sex-writing mood but I needed to get it done by Christmas. The first draft of this was so bad, y'all. It had sentences like "and it felt amazing and then they both came." I still don't think it's as good as my other smutty fics (and I don't know how personal I wanna get in order to justify that lol), but thankfully several heroes from the Lima Bean Discord server helped me punch it up.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Oh this is kind of how I answered the previous questions about these bodies, but I'll also say that In Orbit was a joy to write. There were some parts that were a little tougher to figure out, but overall I was just building the story ahead of me as I went, and it was a delight the whole time.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I really enjoyed examining both Quinn and Sam in the stories they were featured in this year - both of which I started doing a little last year, too. Writing the Some Kind of Summer stories was also a fun way to examine an alternate backstory for Sebastian. It's usually so accepted fandom-wide that he's a trust fund baby, so making it so that his stepdad was the rich/notable family member and he actually came from humbler roots was a fun avenue to explore. How does that recast Sebastian's personality and actions?

Most overdue story?

Definitely the Some Kind of Summer series. I had this image of Kurt and Sebastian being next-door neighbors and meeting on the roof outside of their bedrooms YEARS ago. Like, Glee-was-still-airing years ago. So I'm super glad that I finally got the chance to write that.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Firstly I would just say that writing smut is a writing risk that I didn't expect to take. I think I have some old post where I say smut writers are braver than US marines and I can't imagine doing that - but, bit by bit, I worked my way up to the stuff I've written this year. It's challenging in a new way, but it's been interesting to play with and fun to bring some of my sexier ideas to life.

Secondly, I participated in collaborative fandom events, and working with an artist was a new and totally delightful experience for me. I can see how nerve-wracking that kind of collaboration could be, but I was fortunate to work with people who were great teammates and made some incredible art to go along with my stories!

Somewhat relatedly, I also became an admin for a fandom blog, and we hosted an event for the first time. We didn't get a ton of engagement, but we did get some, and I'm so grateful and astounded that anyone at all wanted to participate. I'm also really happy with the stuff that I wrote for that event. I don't know that it taught me much about writing, but running a fandom blog has definitely been a learning experience, and I hope we continue to grow and get better as we try more events.

This year’s theme and the story that demonstrates it most:

I cannot think of a cohesive theme for everything I've written this year (beyond the reality that it's all written by me and so it has my interests and experiences and hangups throughout). Honestly I'm happy with the variety, though.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

I want to make progress on and start posting Disaster Boys (working title) (and also hopefully finish it, God I hope that doesn't take a whole year). I also have a whole list of other fic ideas I'd love to make headway on - most notably my Mediator AU, which I MUST WRITE but still have to work out so many plotting kinks before I can truly start drafting.

Overall, this was a shockingly productive and creative year. According to AO3 I published 164,797 words in 2022 (which is inflated because In Orbit was actually mostly posted in 2021). It's the first full year of fic writing I've had since getting back into fandom. I'm pleased that I still have so much that I want to work on.

[minghellafine]

Full article below.

Spiral is now available on 4K UHD, Blu-ray, DVD, and digitally. The Saw spin-off stars Chris Rock, Samuel L. Jackson, and Max Minghella in the lead roles and is directed by Saw II-IV director Darren Lynn Bousman in his return to helming the horror series. While it exists in the Saw universe, it’s very much its own thing and provides a fresh experience.

ComingSoon Editor-in-Chief Tyler Treese spoke with Spiral star Max Minghella about the film, a possible sequel, his relationship with the Saw franchise, and much more.

Tyler Treese: I really liked Spiral and it’s this great mix of genres as you’ve got the Saw-type horror and the torture scenes, but the first half of the film is very much kind of like a buddy cop movie. Can you speak to that interesting blend of genre that we have?

Max Minghella: I was very excited when I started to realize that that’s the direction the movie was going to go in. I love buddy cop movies. I really miss movies like that. I had been craving it as a movie fan, so I was really relieved by that. And then I thought that the needle thread of the Saw franchise and the identity of that franchise into this other story was so brilliantly handled in very kind of successful, you know what I mean on the page. I can really see how this works and is very much the movie I’d go and see even if I had nothing to do with it.

You couldn’t get a better buddy cop partner than Chris Rock. He just has so much natural charisma. He’s so funny in the first 30 minutes of the film. Can you talk about your chemistry on set and how it was getting to have him as your buddy cop?

Yeah, I mean, it’s an insane privilege and he’s just somebody I love so much in every way. I love him as a actor performer. I loved him as a filmmaker and it was really fun just getting to have meaningful time with somebody you look up to so much and see how they work and pick their brain. I’m sure Chris got very bored of me badgering him with questions all the time, but I had such a good time getting to work with him. We really had fun together.

Before signing onto Spiral, were you a big fan of the Saw franchise, and what was it like coming into such an established series? It just crossed the billion dollar mark. What are the expectations of coming into a series like that?

I think it’s the first franchise thing I’ve done. I love franchises just in general. I love the concept of them. I love how they exist in film culture. I like the challenges of having to keep them alive and what’s about them and it really appeals to me. So that was just exciting, just fundamentally to be a part of a franchise, like you said, and sort of take on that responsibility, I suppose. I also love so much about the DNA of Saw movies, so I love the kind of whodunnit element of them. I love how sort of visceral it is an experience for an audience, especially when you’re watching it. It’s so fun to watch these movies with people. To answer your question about my familiarity with the franchise. I had seen several of them, but the one I’ve always loved, and I think I owned on DVD like way before being involved in this, was Saw II. I love Saw II. I’m a big twist guy, like a big twist fan, and that movie has got a great twist.

Spiral saw the return of Darren Lynn Bousman as the director. How exciting was it to get to work with him? He has helmed so many great Saw films in the past and now he gets to reinvent it here with you and Chris Rock onboard.

Yeah. It was great to have Darren back. He was such a smart choice. To have somebody who was one of the architects of the Saw aesthetic, which is a very specific aesthetic. I don’t think any other movies share this sort of visual technique. So there’s a lovely, I mean, I think the movie is a great blend of the old guard and then the new kids, you know, Chris [Rock] and Sam [Jackson] and Marisol [Nichols], myself, we’re all completely new to the franchise, but then almost everybody else involved has been there for a minute and it’s like a family, you know what I mean? It really does feel very kind of an intimate group of people and very familiar.

You grew up around movies, you’ve gotten to work with so many incredible actors, so I’m sure it’s not super often where you’re like, “Wow, I can’t believe I’m with this guy,” but Samuel L. Jackson. If that’s ever going to happen, it’s probably him. How cool was it getting to work with a legend like him and cross that off your bucket list?

It’s pretty cool and unexpected. This movie was sort of almost always a pinch yourself kind of job, to be honest. There’s very few days on set where I wasn’t like, I can’t believe I’m going to [do this]. Sam Jackson is truly one of the great actors of all time, it’s a pretty ridiculous situation to be in.

One thing I really like about your character is that he has these very valid grievances about police corruption and that’s a true-to-life issue. Spiral spotlights it, but it’s a very real issue and very timely for the society that we’re in. Did having that interesting backstory for the character really help you dive into playing this role?

I love when you have compassion for a villain. I think it’s so much more compelling than when they are impossible to relate to. So that was really important to me that when he said things. It was his own sort of mad logic to him, obviously the way that he goes about practicing his beliefs is completely wrong, but there’s something there sort of relatable I think to what he’s saying. That’s much more interesting always.

We see that in the original series with Jigsaw and Saw always had some social commentary and some interesting morality questions. Can you speak to Spiral also bringing those philosophical elements and how the series has stayed really interesting? It would have been so easy to just be leaning into just the gore element, but instead, you keep that philosophy and having the moral ambiguity.

Like you said, man, it’s so essential to the DNA of these movies. There’s John Kramer and he always had some interesting perspective on things and reasons for doing things. I think it’s essential that that sort of stays in it, even though Spiral is obviously a very different direction. I think for these movies it is its own story and its kind of its own sort of journey in a way, but there are certain things you don’t want to lose and that’s one of them. You want a compelling villain and I think compelling villains aren’t just being idiots with their point of view.

There’s not many people that can say they fought Chris Rock in a fistfight. How fun was that final fight sequence in the film, and you got the punch Chris Rock! How cool is that?

Again, man, it was all so much fun. Everything was so much fun. I just felt like a kid on the playground. It was crazy. I mean all of it’s like the stuff you sort of dream about doing as a kid. I think there’s a line in the movie where, “I started dreaming about this since I was 12 years old,” and I felt that was pretty resonant for me because I really have. I grew up with a Beverly Hills Cop poster above my bed since as long as I’ve been a conscious person. I really like movies like this where the genre movies have real stakes, but have a sense of humor and aren’t pretentious. It’s very specific to what I want to go and see.

Before we get the big reveal of yourself as the villain, we see the villain in a pig mask a lot. Was it actually you wearing the mask in those scenes?

That’s funny, man. You’re the second person to ask me that question. Yes, not always. I mean it depends on what we’re doing. But absolutely. As long as it’s not some big dangerous stunt.

There are some gruesome and really clever traps in Spiral. Did any of those stick out as a particular favorite for you and what was it like getting to see how they’re actually, with the movie magic and all that, how they’re actually concocted?

It’s dope, so cool. It’s really fun. The subway trap is my favorite. I feel it was really brilliant way into the movie, so cinematic, and that set was crazy sort of built that station. That was so cool. I felt like going to Universal’s studio tour thing. That was how I felt.

Saw fans are very passionate. How’s the reception been? You talked about this being your first franchise, how cool was it to enter that fandom?

I’ve got to say, I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t anxious before the film was released. Obviously I felt a huge amount of responsibility to the fans of these movies and didn’t want them to feel let down by the performance. I’ve been so like grateful and moved by how kind of nice that community is. I mean, nice is maybe a weak word to use, but they’re really supportive. They love these movies. They’ve been really supportive of the movie and supportive of us, the new actors, and I’m very relieved and it means a lot.

With the way the film ends, there’s obviously some unfinished business between yourself and Chris Rock’s character. Would you be interested in returning for a sequel?

For sure, if there was an appetite for us to come back. I think we both love to do another one. But we did this without any expectations of anything beyond. I think it’s a very unusual ending and also very unique and exciting one. I haven’t seen something that sort of ends with such a pronounced cliffhanger. So I’m certainly curious to know what’s gonna happen.

For your other projects, you’ve got Babylon coming up, which has just the most incredible star-studded cast. It even has Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I know. That’s cool, right?

It’s really cool. I believe filming starts on that soon. How thrilled are you to just get to work with so many talented actors on one set?

Yeah, man. Amazing. I’m a huge fan of Damien Chazelle and he’s sort of one of my sort of heroes. So I’m really looking forward to getting to be on set with him and see how he works. All of this is sort of like an education, you’re really just trying to work with people you can learn from and hopefully, we’ll make it better. I can’t think of a group of people to be around that’s more talented.

We spoke about passionate fans earlier. The Handmaid’s Tale has so many passionate watchers and Season 4 had a really shocking ending. What are you looking forward to the most in Season 5?

Season 4 is, by some pretty wide margin, my favorite season we’ve shot. I really loved the season. It’s funny because it’s an ensemble show, and as a result,I don’t know what everyone else is doing. I’m not there on set when everyone else is shooting that stuff. I play a pretty small part in the show, so when it comes out, I get to watch it like an audience member and go along for the ride. I just had such an amazing time watching it this year. I was so proud of everybody in the cast and crew. It was tough circumstances, as you can imagine, shooting during a pandemic and especially Elisabeth Moss just was incredible this year, really just took care of everyone and for it to come out as strong as it was, was really amazing. I never thought I’d be so excited to go into Season 5 of a TV show, but I get more and more excited every year as we get further into it and it just keeps staying so strong. It’s amazing. I can’t believe how lucky I am to be on a show that is that good.

It’s kind of rare to see a show building on its quality over time. Usually it peaks in Season 2 or 3, but like you said, Season 4 is the best one yet. It was very exciting as a fan to see how it’s going to continue.

Thank you. It’s amazing and that people are still watching a show and sticking with us. We are all so conscious. It’s sort of pathetic actually, whenever The Handmaid’s Tale cast talk about anything, we’re just all so conscious of how singular this experience is and how we can’t take it for granted. I think stuff like this comes along very, very rarely, and when you’re lucky enough to be a part of something that you like so much and other people seem to like.

Over the past five years, we’ve seen you find success as a screenwriter and a director as well. Working behind the camera and looking at the scenes from that different perspective, does that help your acting as well?

That’s a good question. I dunno. I don’t know if I can do anything about my acting talents, but it comes from a very simple place, man, because I just love movies so much. Just the fact that I don’t really know about anything else. Like if you asked me about where any country is on a map, I would have no idea, but I’m okay with movies. Like I kind of know movies and, and so I get impatient. I’m a bit of a workaholic and I just want to do whatever I can. So it would be on set. So we get to engage creatively and I can do it a little bit. It’s really different. Well, what I think is interesting about it is often have a day where I have to have a call maybe as a producer and then a call as a writer, then a call as a director, then a call as an actor, and each conversation I’m treated quite differently or my job is so different. Switching those hats is I think quite good and keeps you in check and keeps your feet on the ground and keeps you hungry and all that stuff. So I feel very lucky I get to do different things.

When you were growing up, one of your goals was to be a music video director. Is that something that you still want to wind up doing down the line?

I got to make a movie that I think exorcised a lot of those demons. So I have to be honest, I have less of a burning desire to sort of work in that space because I felt like I got to sort of express that part of me a little bit. That said, I love music videos. It’s one of my favorite mediums. The tricky thing, and I’m sure most people would tell you this, is that music videos have very, very limited budgets. When I was a kid, this was the year of like Francis Lawrence and Hype Williams where people were getting like $4 or $5 million to make these two-minute clips. Now when I’m sent music video stuff, it’s like the budgets are very, very limited. So you really have to be passionate about it because you’re basically going to have to spend money to make it. So to answer your question I would love to do some music videos, but I think there has to be things that I was really, really married to.

In the past decade and some change we’ve seen superhero films become all the rage. Would you be interested in those types of projects and are there any comic characters that appeal to your acting sensibilities?

I kind of like all kinds of movies. I don’t have a genr that I’m not into. Yeah, I’m totally open to that. I think as long as I felt useful ther., I mean, that’s totally how I approach everything. It’s not so much about the glamor of an opportunity so much as whether I think I could actually contribute something. If I can’t, I don’t think it’s helpful for me to do it, then nobody wins. But if there was a show that I felt like, oh, I could do this and maybe not sink the ship then for sure.

[defilerwyrm]

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 5 - 7

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: permanent injury, chronic pain, mild implied spice, PTSD, accidental triggering, past captivity, really fucked up parenting

~

“What kind of tea do you want?” Edrissa said, her head in the tea cabinet. “I have chamomile, mint, the spice tea, basil and mint, lemon balm, green tea, Gavin’s headache tea, and that new black tea I got yesterday that’s really really good. It’s almost like Oolong but it’s a little more, I don’t know, intense? Maybe it’s an Oolong blend. I haven’t figured it out yet. Mx. Sadey said the labels fell off when the box got wet and so it’s just kind of a surprise any time they pull teas from that box…”

Sam glanced at her from where they stood at the counter kneading bread dough with one hand. Their right arm was slinged. It was feeling better since they’d hurt it again three days ago, but Finn wasn’t taking any chances. It still throbbed sometimes, still sent those agonizing stabs of pain through them when they moved just wrong. Still, it didn’t feel like anything more was wrong.

Edrissa’s blue eyes met theirs. Their heart squeezed as she blushed.

“Umm…” They scrunched their nose as they thought. “Chamomile, please.”

Edrissa nodded and turned her gaze to Zachariah, who stood across the kitchen at another counter chopping onions for the stew that would feed the family tonight. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

“I’ll, um, take chamomile too, please,” Zachariah said softly.

Edrissa nodded once and pulled the tin from the cabinet. She flitted to the stove and began to heat the kettle. Then she spun and went to Sam’s side, her hip just brushing against theirs. Sam wanted to pull her close and kiss her, right there.

“How’s the bread going?” she murmured, and Sam flushed, hoping she was dropping her voice so she’d have an excuse to draw even closer. The faint, sweet flowery smell of her shampoo wafted over Sam, that and the smell of sunshine that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“Um, good,” they said, and their voice cracked. They cleared their throat. “Good. I think it just needs to sit… right?”

Edrissa beamed. “Right. We’ll let it rise, then place it in the pans. Speaking of.” She darted to the oven. “I should preheat this.”

Zachariah set the knife down on the counter and crossed to the stove. He steered clear of Edrissa as he slid the onions into the stew pot. She watched him carefully, her gaze following his hands. Her eyes flicked to his face and back, and she smiled again.

It would be so good if she liked him, too, Sam thought with a flush.

“Celery next?” Zachariah said, already crossing to the refrigerator.

“Yeah,” Edrissa said. She pulled three mugs down from the cupboard as Zachariah took a giant stalk of celery from the refrigerator and began to cut it into bite-sized pieces on the cutting board. Edrissa scooped three spoonfuls of chamomile into the tea strainers and set them each into the mugs.

“What’re you making us?” Vera said as she walked into the kitchen. Sam looked up at her and saw her smiling, wandering over to the stove. “Need any help?”

“Not yet,” Edrissa said. “Actually…” She glanced around the kitchen at Sam and Zachariah. “I think we might have it covered.”

“Fair enough,” Vera said with a nod. She turned and went to the barstools that stood along the counter that looked into the kitchen. She sat down with a groan.

“Where’s Tori?” Sam said as they gently placed the dough into a bowl and covered the bowl with a cloth.

“Reading,” Vera said with a shrug. “She wanted some alone time, so I’m out here harassing you.” She laughed. “Are you feeling harassed?”

“No,” Edrissa said, raising her eyebrows at Vera.

“Yes,” Sam said at the exact same time, throwing an impish grin Vera’s way.

Vera snorted and looked to Zachariah. “What about you, kid? You break the tie. Are you feeling harassed?”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide and his face went pale as he looked up at Vera. His gaze darted to Sam and Edrissa and back to Vera. He swallowed hard, his hand curling around a stalk of celery. “Um… y-yes?”

Vera burst out laughing and high-fived herself. “Mission accomplished,” she said with a smile.

Sam looked towards the back of the house as the door opened. They smiled as Isaac and Gavin wandered in, Isaac’s arm slung over Gavin’s shoulders. In the corner of the eye, they saw Zachariah tense and turn back towards the cutting board. Edrissa didn’t seem to bat an eye, but returned to Sam’s side, winding her arm around Sam’s waist and pressing a kiss to their cheek. Sam flushed as they pulled her close and kissed gently into her hair. Their flush deepened as they noticed Vera look at them – and then waggle her eyebrows at them with a wide grin on her face.

“How’s the lake?” Vera said from her seat at the counter.

Isaac drew his free hand through his hair and laughed. “Completely devoid of fish, as far as I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “At this point we’ve put lines down the whole way around the lake and caught nothing.”

“It doesn’t count if you’re making out the whole time and not watching the lines,” Vera said, and cocked an eyebrow at Isaac.

Isaac and Gavin both flushed an almost painful-looking red. Isaac opened his mouth to protest. “I…”

“Oh, just ignore her, Isaac,” Sam said good-naturedly, their arm still around Edrissa’s waist. “She’s been harassing us since she sat down.”

Vera idly chewed a fingernail. “Which, as I said, was my mission,” she said. “And I think I’m pulling it off beautifully. Who else am I supposed to bother if Tori’s not around?”

“Where’s Tori?” Isaac asked as he went to the sink and filled a cup with water. He drank the whole thing and filled it again.

Vera shrugged. “She wanted some time to herself. She’s reading. And I wanted to come bother you lovely people.”

“Lucky us,” Isaac grumbled, and shot a winning smile in Vera’s direction. “I think it might be worth it to talk to someone in Burmingham about stocking the lake. Having meat around would be good.”

Edrissa wrinkled her nose. “Oh, good. More fish.”

The kettle on the stove began to whistle. Edrissa left Sam’s side to go take it off and pour steaming water into the three cups on the counter. “I can make tea for you guys, too,” she said, and looked up at Vera, Isaac, and Gavin.

“No, no thanks,” Gavin said quietly, his cheeks still red. Isaac shook his head.

Vera smiled. “I’m okay, thanks,” she said.

Edrissa nodded and put the kettle back on the stovetop. She picked up two of the mugs. She took one to Sam, carefully passing it into their left had before she kissed them gently on the cheek again. Then she went to Zachariah’s side. He dwarfed her, standing as tall as Isaac, and broader in the shoulders and hips. Sam’s heart skipped as Edrissa handed him the cup, having to crane her head back to look up at him, her pale blonde hair looking almost like white gold against Zachariah’s warm brown skin. Sam’s throat bobbed as they swallowed, their mouth going dry at the thought they’d had ever since Zachariah appeared into their life again.

Maybe…

Zachariah smiled shyly at Edrissa as he took the cup. “Thanks, Edrissa,” he murmured. “You’re a sweetheart.”

The smile on Sam’s face disappeared. Their stomach lurched. Gavin and Vera both gasped.

Edrissa spun around to look at Vera, and her gaze drifted to Gavin. “W-we don’t say that word,” Edrissa said tightly.

Zachariah fell a step back, his hands still clutching the mug. He seemed to shrink before Sam’s eyes. “I’m… ‘m sorry,” he said through trembling lips. “I didn’t… I… I’m sorry.”

Sam glanced at Vera. She was staring at the counter, drawing in slow, deep breaths, her hands clenched into fists in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her neck, and Sam could hear it pop from across the kitchen. They chewed their lip.

Movement in the corner of their eye drew their gaze to Gavin. He stood huddled against Isaac’s side, his eyes wide and filled with horror – and staring right at Vera.

“Oh, fuck,” Gavin whispered.

Vera opened her eyes and blew out another breath through her lips. She met Gavin’s gaze. “Well,” she breathed. “That’s a fucking horrifying realization.”

Zachariah blinked and looked at Vera. “Wh-what? I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Vera said evenly, but her hands shook as she clasped them together. She looked up at Gavin, and the pain in her eyes made Sam’s chest ache. “And I didn’t even… make the connection.”

“N-neither did I,” Gavin whimpered softly. His fingers tangled in Isaac’s shirt. Isaac pressed an anxious kiss against Gavin’s temple.

Sam wet their lips. “Um, Zachariah…” They walked to Zachariah’s side, standing just beside Edrissa. They could feel everyone’s gazes on their back. “We, um, don’t say that word because, um… that’s what Joseph Stormbeck used to call Vera when he… captured her.” They gently rested their hand on Zachariah’s arm, and felt Zachariah relax slightly under the touch. “And that’s what Colleen Stormbeck called Gavin while she, um…”

“My whole life,” Gavin said with a hollow voice. “That’s what she called me my whole life. That’s what she called all her playthings. And I never even… noticed.”

“I’m sorry,” Zachariah said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.” He drew himself up to his full height and looked at the others. Sam turned and saw Gavin still looking right at Vera, and she looked right back at him with a matching expression of horror and understanding. Sam’s hand slipped from Zachariah’s arm, and they flexed their fingers as their hand fell to their side. Edrissa’s eyes were fixed on Sam, a strange sort of sadness crossing her face.

Slowly, Vera pushed herself up from the barstool and crossed to Gavin’s side. Tears shone in Gavin’s eyes. Vera’s were dry, looking almost fevered. She held out a hand to Gavin.

Gavin slid from Isaac’s embrace and fell against Vera as she wrapped her arms around him and crushed him to her chest. He squeezed her tight and laid his head on her shoulder.

“Now we know,” Vera said heavily, her voice tight with tears.

“H-how did we… miss that?” Gavin said, and his voice broke.

Vera huffed out a broken laugh. “Don’t make me remind you this early in the afternoon that you’re a dumb—”

“I’m a dumbass,” Gavin grumbled against her shoulder. “I know.”

Isaac stepped forward and wrapped his arms around them both. “I’m… um… s-sorry,” he croaked. “For both of you. That they… hurt you that way.”

Vera sniffed and pulled away from them both. She still held Gavin by his shoulders. “Yeah,” she said weakly.

Zachariah shifted his feet next to Sam. “So… so they… Gavin, you…”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and swiped at his eyes. “I mean, I knew she… used me, but I didn’t realize… she…” He cleared his throat. “Um…” He blew out a slow breath, and shrugged out of Vera’s grip. “Isaac… I’m going to go, um, change.”

Isaac met Gavin’s gaze, and Sam’s heart ached at the pain they saw there. He always blames himself. He always feels like he has to fix it.

Isaac nodded. “Okay. Do you want—”

“I just need a minute,” Gavin rasped, and sidestepped Isaac. He disappeared down the hall, with Isaac looking after him.

When Isaac finally looked away from the hallway, he turned to Vera. “Do you…?” He held out his hands to her.

“Yeah, sure,” Vera said brusquely, and dragged Isaac into a crushing hug.

At Sam’s side, Zachariah crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. “Is there, um… any, anything else I shouldn’t say?”

Sam glanced at Edrissa. “Edrissa… Do you—”

“Honey,” she said with a tremulous voice. She set her jaw. “They called me ‘honey’.”

Zachariah nodded.

Sam wet their lips. “And… please don’t call me, um… Sammy,” Sam said, looking up at him, their heart speeding up as his light brown eyes found theirs. They glanced to Edrissa, and to Vera and Isaac, who had let go of each other and now stood close enough that their shoulders were touching. “Guys, can you think of anything…?”

“I think that about covers it,” Vera said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “I mean, I’m guessing we’ll be finding shit like this for a while.” She fixed Zachariah with her gaze, and he seemed to wither under it. “But it’s not your fault, kid. Okay?”

Zachariah swallowed loudly. “Um…”

“It’s not,” Sam said gently, finding their own hand once again settling on his shoulder. “We all make mistakes with this stuff, and you didn’t know.”

Zachariah’s mouth twisted. “But I do now,” he said. He looked at Edrissa as she crossed to Sam’s side and tucked herself under their unslinged arm. “And I’ll… I’ll remember.”

Sam nodded at Zachariah, and turned to look at Edrissa. She was looking at them both with a sad, wistful smile on her face.

Continued here

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[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #475

Top Ten Films Named After the Protagonist

I’m afraid this is another of those weeks where the list is not only plucked-as-if-from-nowhere, but is also going to be relatively perfunctory. I’ve had quite a few mammoth lists recently, and the kids have been off for Easter so I’ve had less time to sit down and waffle with my keyboard. As such, we’re going off on a random tangent (the best kind of tangent, let’s be honest): films named after the protagonist.

I remember when Michael Clayton came out, and without knowing anything about the film, I was a bit confused; “Michael Clayton” seems such an ordinary name. Was it a true story? Was I supposed to know who this guy is? It seemed a strange, non-exciting, non-explanatory title for a film that’s actually relatively twisty-turny. And, of course, once you sit down and think about it, there are actually quite a few films where the whole hook is “here’s a movie about this guy you don’t know”. Furthermore, some of them are pretty darn great.

Obviously I had to establish some rules, because if you say “ooh, yeah, films where the title is the main character’s name,” then instantly you could say, well, that’s every superhero movie, right? So I instantly discounted that; if it’s a pseudonym or a codename or whatever, it’s out. Sorry, Batman. Sorry, Spider-Man. Also, by that same rationale, sorry, The Quiet American or The English Patient; technically, those are characters, but they’re not their names, so they’re out. I’m also discounting anything where there are other words in the title apart from a name; so, yes, that discounts Batman Begins and The Amazing Spider-Man, but also Get Carter. And it has to be one person, so no The Blues Brothers (or, I guess, Ghostbusters, Gremlins, or Goonies).

Where I have taken a moment is whether or not to consider one-word titles; WALL-E, for instance, or Dave. In the end, I have decided – and this feels even a little arbitrary even for me – that WALL-E would be excluded on the grounds that that’s not a real name. it’s not a codename, necessarily, but it’s more of a model number; it only becomes a name because WALL-E is, to all intents and purposes, a person. If you want you can slot WALL-E in at number one, because that’s where it would be if it were included. Dave, as it happens, wouldn’t have made the list (although it’d probably be in the Top Fifteen). But another one that I’ve decided – after much internal deliberation – to exclude is Amélie, because I feel like its real title is Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain. That’s words other than a name. Sorry, Amélie. But like WALL-E, that’s a masterpiece, so would have probably been about number three.

So there we go: utterly arbitrary rules established, we now present a Top Ten.

John Wick (2014): it’s a film very much about a bloke called John Wick, a name that’s simultaneously very ordinary and also a bit weird. And then it gets into its stride, and Keanu is just offing dudes like a cross between Batman and the Terminator. Excellent action, a great stoic performance by Reeves, but also a rich and deep mythology that slowly unfolds. The sequel is better, but it all started here.

Jackie Brown (1997): Tarantino’s forgotten film, a far more subtle and slower film than most of his others, lacking the histrionics and heightened alternate-reality stuff he’s getting more famous for. Despite QT being relatively young at the time, it’s actually a really sweet meditation on aging and chances passing you buy, anchored by a great, humane performance from Pam Grier. Despite the twisty plot and crime chaos, she’s the dead centre, cool but also realistically vulnerable. Also has Samuel L. Jackson being a badass.

Forrest Gump (1994): often criticised for its sentimentality (unfairly, I think) and its politics (yeah, I’m with you there) Gump is still great. Tom Hanks gives the character a ton of heart and pathos, walking a difficult line between a broad portrayal and nuanced characterisation. As a whirlwind tour of boomer history unfolds around him, he remains an engaging centre. The end of the film, when he struggles to ask if his son is smart, is a beautiful, heartbreaking moment.

Barton Fink (1991): a great exercise in stylised Coen weirdness. John Turturro’s Fink is a delightful arsehole, a writer full of his own self-importance, but as he is sucked further and further into this Hollywood hell, we still root for him and sympathise with him, even if he is in many ways the architect of his own downfall. Kudos, too, to John Goodman for his supremely demonic performance, which really should have bagged him an Oscar nom.

Jerry Maguire (1996): another film that could be criticised for its sentimentality, or maybe even its hypocrisy, criticising the commerciality of the sports industry whilst also cheering about one of the characters bagging a multi-million-dollar contract. But Cruise himself, as Jezza, gives one of his best performances as a man struggling to remain moral and ethical both at work and at home as he rushes into a hasty marriage. The oft-ridiculed “you complete me” scene is actually amazing and really emotional. And the kid is cute.

Donnie Darko (2001): a twisty oddity that came out of nowhere, starring a brother-and-sister team of actors we’d never heard of before, with famous people (her off E.T., him off ER) in supporting roles. But Jake G anchors the film with a great performance, genuinely making us wonder whether trippy supernatural stuff is going down, or if he’s just becoming unhinged. A really cool, interesting, unnerving film, that managed to successfully weaponise 80s nostalgia before that became annoying.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004): another one of those films that sort of came from nowhere, full of unknowns, but instantly built a huge cult following almost immediately. It’s delightfully weird, with its own internal logic, creating a world of weirdos and outcasts that we just completely root for right from the off, and it all hinges on Jon Heder’s central performance as the gangly, strange-looking, crazy-named Napoleon. Altogether now: “Yes, I love technology…”

Michael Clayton (2007): only this low because I don’t remember its twists and turns as well as I should. This is a taut and twisty thriller, with a man discovering a conscience and uncovering all kinds of nefarious corporate behaviour. Its great because the stakes aren’t world-altering, just big-scale bad behaviour and people earnestly opposing it. Full of tremendous performances but it’s got another heartfelt turn by Clooney at its centre.

Erin Brockovich (2000): another great person-investigates-corporate-bastardry, with Julia Roberts never-better as the earnest and earthy Erin who transcends her comparatively lowly status to throw her heart and soul behind the battle for justice. Her performance defines the film (and rightly won her an Oscar), which in terms of events and plot is relatively straightforward, but is shot through with a level of down-to-earth realism and a beautiful portrayal of friendship between Brockovich and lawyer Ed Masry (Albert Finney).

Ed Wood (1994): a film made at the peak of Burton’s powers, before his stylisation became a bit overbearing, and before his constant casting of Depp became annoying (and well, well before Depp himself became problematic). This is a love letter to the golden age of moviemaking and also to the schlocky B-movies Wood himself traded in, finding heroism in the example of one under-talented man making poor artistic choices. Depp is sweet and endearing with an earnest drive behind his good nature, making us root for him throughout. Arguably Depp’s best performance and Burton’s best film. But all due respect to Martin Landau, Sam Jackson should have won the Oscar that year.

[darriness]

Fic - Let It Be Me

Author: darriness

Word Count: 25705

Ship: Klaine

Rating: M

Summary: It's been three years since Blaine fell in love with Kurt, but between college, jobs, social lives, and parenting his twelve-year-old sister, can Blaine manage it all?

Beta: @darrenismydarcy

Artist: @usurix​ (link to piece)

Author’s Note: I finally get to post my Blaine Big Bang fic! This fic has been many many many months in the making and I’m so excited to share it with you! A heads up before you read it - This fic is a sequel to my fic Like You Wanna Be Loved. It’s probably best if you read that one first :) Thank you so much to my amazing beta @darrenismydarcy​ and to @usurix who created an fantastic piece for this fic! Lastly, this starts in Kurt’s perspective but I promise this is a Blaine centric fic. Enjoy!!

AO3 Link

Prologue

Kurt lightly sways the leg he has crossed over the other under the table as he drums his fingers on the tabletop. The coffee shop is only moderately busy on this Saturday afternoon and Kurt is grateful for the relative quiet.

His nerves have been frayed all day. He could barely focus in class, to the point where his statistics professor had asked him to stay after class to make sure everything was okay. It was a mortifying conversation to have, even though it was sort of nice to know his professor cared that much about one of his students.

“You seemed distracted today.” His professor had said as he packed up his bag at the front of the slowly emptying room.

Kurt had sighed, “Yeah, sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

His professor had nodded, “College is a stressful time, for sure. Do you have someone you can talk to?”

Kurt had nodded quickly, “I do. Thanks. Really. I’m okay.” He assured.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure. Take care of yourself, Kurt.” His professor had said with a sympathetic smile.

Kurt muses, as he wraps a hand around his coffee, that his third year of college is a lot different than his first. In his first year at NYU, at just eighteen, he had been just a nameless face in a crowded lecture hall. He had been nothing more than a number to his professors. He can’t help but feel like the concern of a professor would have been better placed then than now. Now Kurt’s problems have less to do with school.

Though back then his biggest problems didn’t have a whole lot to do with school either…

The bell above the door to the coffee shop chimes and Kurt is pulled from his thoughts to turn in its direction. He smiles at the person coming through the door and lifts a hand in a wave.

-- -- --

“Annie, seriously, I will literally burn your iPad to ashes if you’re not ready to go in two minutes.” Blaine calls into the apartment, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to fend off his building headache.

“You know burning it will just mean you have to buy me another one. I need it for school. That’s a wasted threat.” Bethany snarks as she walks down the hallway toward her brother. 

Blaine sighs and looks up at the ceiling. Praying for patience?

“Fine, I will put a parental lock on it so all you can do is go on school approved apps.” He amends and the twelve-year-old in front of him narrows her eyes.

“You wouldn’t.” She says.

“I totally would. But since you’re here now, I won’t have to.” He says.

Bethany keeps her eyes narrowed, as if considering calling Blaine’s bluff, but she sighs as well, “You’re so over-dramatic sometimes.” She says with an eye roll that has become less affectionate and more sassy as she’s grown into an almost teenager, “I just have to put my shoes on.”

“Thank you. I was supposed to be at the coffee shop ten minutes ago.” Blaine reminds her as she does up the laces of her running shoes.

Bethany straightens and raises her eyebrows, “Well look at that, I’m ready to go.”

“Thank you.” Blaine says again, deciding not to comment on her attitude. He just needs to leave.

He holds the door open for her and the pair make their way down the hall toward the elevator.

-- -- --

Kurt feels his breath catch as the dark haired boy that has just entered the coffee shop makes his way toward his table. He sits a little straighter and tries to calm his reaction as the other boy gets closer.

“Hey.” Kurt smiles, “You must be Quintin.” He says.

The boy, Quintin, smiles a big toothy grin that reveals dimples in his cheeks, “Hey, yeah! Which must make you Kurt?” Quintin says with a questioning eyebrow quirk. Kurt nods and Quintin sighs, “Oh good. Sam said you were gorgeous but he didn’t say you were THIS gorgeous. I thought I might have gotten the wrong table.” 

Kurt feels his stomach flutter at the line, and even though it’s a slightly cheesy line...he’ll allow it.

“Well, Sam told me you were the hottest thing since sliced bread.” Kurt laughs.

Quintin scrunches his nose adorably, “Yeah, that’s actually exactly what he said to me about you, too.”

The pair laugh for a moment before they both look at each other with soft smiles, “Well, I’m just going to go grab myself a drink and then we can chat?” Quintin says, gesturing to the counter.

Kurt nods with a smile and Quintin leaves to join the line. Kurt watches him go before sighing. Quintin does seem adorable, and he’s definitely gorgeous, so maybe Kurt CAN do this. Everything in him has been telling him not to do this since Sam brought it up last week but now, in this moment, Kurt is willing to give it a shot.

What’s the worst that could happen?

-- -- --

Blaine sighs as he makes his way into the Lima Bean. He quickly heads behind the counter and catches up with Lauren who is making a latte at the machine, “I’m so sorry, Lauren. Bethany was...we had trouble…” He sighs, “I’m sorry.” He says again instead of excusing his tardiness.

Lauren eyes him as she pulls the lever to steam milk, “If you weren’t my best employee this would be a big deal.” She says, “Are you and Bethany going to be able to make this work?” She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Blaine swallows thickly at her question. He knows she’s asking simply if he can make it to work on time in the future and he nods to let her know that yes they can, but he can’t help but think about the larger meaning of that question.

Can he and Bethany make all of this work anymore? 

As he does up his apron and takes his place at the register with a forced smile at his next customer, he’s not so sure they can.

Chapter One

Three Years Ago…

Reality is an interesting thing. No matter how much you may want to ignore it, it bites you in the ass eventually.

For Kurt and Blaine, that reality comes the July after they graduate high school.

Far sooner than either of them expected or wanted.

Kurt shakes his head as he looks at the other boy sitting across from him on his bed, “I’m sorry, what?”

Blaine swallows and looks down at the duvet, plucking at it with his fingers, “Bethany and I aren’t going to New York.” He whispers.

Kurt blinks in surprise, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tries to come up with something to say, “But...you said you were.” He finally lands on, but the sentence seems wholly inadequate.

Blaine sighs, “I know but...Bethany all but revolted when I suggested it.” He looks at Kurt with pleading eyes. Eyes asking him to understand, “I’ve already moved her once. I can’t ask her to do it again.”

“Yes, you can!” Kurt exclaims, “You’re the parent in this situation. You have the authority.”

“But I’m not, am I!” Blaine suddenly yells, “I’m not the parent. I’m her brother. I have no idea what I’m doing and I definitely don’t have the ‘authority’,” He says with sarcastic air quotes, “to make her move across the country just because I want to follow my boyfriend to college.”

Kurt pouts his lips, more than a little hurt by Blaine’s words but trying not to show it, “But you wouldn’t be following me. New York is your dream.”

Blaine shakes his head, “Dreams change. I have Bethany to think about now.”

Kurt presses his lips together and nods, shifting his gaze from Blaine to the floor. He can feel tears prickling behind his eyes and wills them to not come, “So, um,” He coughs, “What does this mean for us?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Blaine says and Kurt’s eyes snap back to the other boy’s face, “Well, okay, we’ll be living apart for a while.” He amends, “But we can make it work! Lots of couples do.”

Kurt feels everything inside himself sink. In the years to come, he’ll blame his youth and naivety on the fact that he’d felt a flare of hope when Blaine had started talking, but at the moment the abrupt change in emotion has left him dizzy. He’s not sure whether he wants to cry, scream, or both.

Blaine is looking at him hopefully, almost desperately, and Kurt hates those eyes in this moment. He hates that he loves them so much, he hates that looking into them reminds him of every good thing that has happened to him over the past ten months, and he hates that looking into them makes him want to agree with whatever arrangement Blaine may propose for the next four years of their lives at least.

...It’s that last thought that gives him pause, however. Something suddenly occurs to him that he’s known for months but had momentarily forgotten. This something had filled him with joy and contentment for months but has suddenly turned sour.

He narrows his eyes slightly at Blaine and says in an even tone, “You accepted NYU’s offer.”

Blaine’s eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t offer anything beyond opening and closing his mouth several times, no sound coming out. Despite his lack of answer, or maybe because of it, Kurt feels his anger rise.

“You applied. You got an acceptance letter. A week before mine. And you accepted. I was there when you did.” Kurt needlessly reminds him. Blaine swallows from the bed, “When did you decide you weren’t going?” He asks.

Blaine swallows thickly, before shrugging and letting out a humourless laugh, “It doesn’t matter.” He says.

Kurt’s eyes narrow further, “When did you decide you weren’t going?” He asks again.

“Before I accepted the offer.” Blaine whispers to the duvet.

“Then why did you accept it?” Kurt yells and Blaine flinches.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” He defends, “And then I was going to tell you but then you got your acceptance letter and you were so excited and I couldn’t do that to you.”

“You lied to me!” Kurt yells, “You’ve been lying to me for months!”

“I…” Blaine starts but Kurt keeps going, not giving him a chance to respond.

“You’re always lying to me!” He exclaims and Blaine pulls up short, his eyes widening at the unexpected words.

“What…?” He asks.

Kurt starts to pace, “You have literally lied to me for most of the time we’ve known each other. How can I be sure that everything you’ve told me isn’t a lie?”

Blaine’s eyes pinch, “Kurt, I…”

“Get out.” Kurt whispers, crossing his arms over his chest, tightly, as if the move will hold him together.

“Kurt…” Blaine starts again but is once again interrupted.

“Get out!” Kurt screams, pointing at the door, his cheeks red with anger and embarrassment. He feels embarrassment over having believed anything this boy has ever said.

Blaine jumps slightly and rises from the bed. He puts his hands up in surrender and backs up, “Okay, I’ll leave. We can talk about this later.”

Kurt sniffs and suddenly realizes he’s crying. He wipes angrily at his nose - he doesn’t want to cry right now, or at least not until Blaine GETS. OUT.

“There won’t be a later.” He whispers.

“Don’t say that.” Blaine whispers back.

Kurt glares at the other boy, “I’ll say whatever I damn well please. And just to be clear, even though *I* have never lied to *you*, I'm not lying about this. Get out, Blaine. Enjoy your life with Bethany. We’re done.”

Blaine’s eyes are wide as he stares at Kurt, who diverts his eyes and stares at his bed. He can’t handle looking at Blaine anymore. He’s not sure if he’s more angry or sad at the moment, but what he does know is that he needs to figure that out without the other boy there.

He sees from the corner of his eye as Blaine backs slowly toward the door of his bedroom. He sees him hesitate at the door and Kurt is about to tell him again to get out, when Blaine’s moving again - out of the door and out of Kurt’s life.

-- -- --

Present Day…

Kurt had spent three days in his bed after that afternoon, refusing to talk to anyone about what had happened (or about anything at all). He’d finally opened up to  his father when Burt became so distraught by Kurt’s behaviour that Kurt feared another heart attack.

When he’d moved to New York that August, he promised his dad he would make an effort to live his life to the fullest, and while the first few months had been especially hard, Kurt had finally started to move on. He started making new friends, joining clubs at school, and even eventually going on a few dates. In his three years in New York, however, he has yet to enter a relationship with anyone and the slight pang in his chest as his date for the afternoon sits opposite him with a smile reminds him of why.

“So,” Quintin says, “tell me more about yourself? Sam says you used to be in show choir together?”

The pair spend the afternoon in companionable conversation. Kurt finds himself blushing slightly at some of the things Quintin says and when Quintin says, with what appears to be a regretful sigh, that he needs to get to a study group, Kurt finds himself wondering when they can see each other again.

“Are you free on Friday?” Kurt asks.

Quintin smiles, “What did you have in mind?”

-- -- --

Blaine had spent three days after leaving Kurt’s that afternoon warring within himself. Part of him wanted to call Kurt and beg him to work this out but the other part of him, the part that eventually won out, was angry and hurt by Kurt’s comments. 

The fact that Kurt had thrown Blaine’s omissions and falsehoods when they first met at him during their fight had knocked the wind out of Blaine. He never imagined Kurt would have harboured any anger or mistrust because of that. Blaine had thought Kurt had understood why he’d done what he’d done.

He also felt an almost overwhelming sadness and loss but he didn’t have what he considered the luxury of wallowing in it. He had Bethany to support and so, while on the inside he felt numb, on the outside he had to keep moving forward. He applied to Lima Community College and got a job at the Lima Bean. He did everything he could think of to keep himself distracted. 

He had hoped, somewhat in vain, that Bethany wouldn’t notice that Kurt stopped coming around, but even if she wasn’t the most intuitive nine-year-old in the world, it was stupid to think she wouldn’t.

“What’s going on with you and Kurt?” She’d asked one night a week after their fight.

Blaine shook his head while drying the pan from dinner, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Annie.” He said. He brought a hand to his chest to stop the physical ache he could feel at the mention of his name.

Bethany narrowed her eyes at him and pouted her lips but when Blaine gave her a shrug and looked away, she sighed and stalked out of the room. 

She didn’t bring up Kurt again after that and Blaine hadn’t known whether to feel grateful or more heartbroken because of it. He and his sister had started to gradually drift apart after that, and while Blaine tries to play it off as preteen hormones on his sister’s part, he knows deep down there’s more to it, and it’s definitely not one-sided.

“Blaine!” Blaine is jerked from his thoughts by the sharp yell of his boss. He shakes his head to clear it of thoughts of Kurt only to realize he’s spilled half a coffee pot on the floor.

“Oh my God, Lauren, I’m so sorry!” He says, already reaching for a rag to start cleaning up.

Lauren lets out an exasperated sigh and waves him off, “Go home, Blaine.” She says, not unkindly but with authority, “Just...go home and get your head together and come back tomorrow.” She says.

Blaine’s stomach drops at the dismissal. She may not be firing him (even he thinks she probably should at this point) but to be reminded of how much his life really isn’t working right now is like a punch to the gut.

“Okay.” He whispers, dejectedly, before taking off his apron. As he leaves, he turns back to see Lauren and Garret, the other employee working, setting about cleaning up Blaine’s mess.

If only Blaine could clean up his own mess…

Chapter Two

Blaine’s not really one for fate and destiny. Maybe he had been once upon a time, but as his twenty-first birthday approaches he feels like he no longer believes in all that. He’s been forced, over the years, to become too practical and level-headed.

He’s also not a big fan of coincidence. Which is why, as his car’s check engine light flares to life on his dashboard on his way home from work and something within the car begins to make a very unhealthy whirring noise, he wants to growl when he notices what business is just up ahead. Clearly SOMEONE out there believes in fate, destiny, and coincidence.

He sighs as he turns into the parking lot of Hummel Tires and Lube and prays, as he gets out of the car, that Burt Hummel decided to take today off. Blaine makes his way into the shop and curses under his breath when he notices the tall figure of Finn Hudson standing at the counter. He hadn’t thought about him. Maybe Finn won’t recognize him.

Any hopes of not being recognized are dashed when Finn’s eyes widen when they land on Blaine and he puts down the phone he’d been fiddling with. Blaine is the only customer in the room (why can’t there be more people in the room?), “Blaine?” Finn says in awe and confusion.

Blaine coughs and decides to take this like a man. Just because he hasn’t seen any of Kurt’s family in three years doesn’t mean this has to be awkward, “Hi Finn.” He says, approaching the desk.

Finn shakes his head, “This is such a small world!” Finn exclaims.

Blaine gives a tight smile and nods, “My car’s check eng…” He tries to explain why he’s here but clearly Finn isn’t done with their reunion.

“Does Burt know you were coming?” Blaine’s eyebrows furrow, why would Burt know he was coming?, “He’ll be so excited that you’re here! Burt!” Finn calls into the back of the shop and Blaine panics.

“Finn, seriously, I just want…” But he’s once again interrupted.

“How long has it been? Three years? What have you been up to? Burt keeps saying how he’s mad you haven’t called or come over.” Finn’s rapid fire speech is leaving Blaine a little dizzy.

Yes, it has been three years. What has he been up to? Trying to stay above water. Burt’s mad he hasn’t called? He finds that the most confusing thing of all. Why would his ex-boyfriend’s father care that he hasn’t called? 

Blaine suddenly feels like this was a bad idea. He should have kept driving to another mechanic in town and stayed as far away from here as possible. His day is going from bad to worse.

“Well if it isn’t the mysterious, vanishing Blaine.” Any hope of escape is gone when the voice of Burt Hummel fills the space. Blaine bites his lip and rubs his hands together, not sure, at all, what to say to this man. Burt looks at him silently for a few moments from the doorway to the back of the shop, which only makes Blaine squirm harder, before sighing and gesturing behind himself with his head, “Come on back to my office. You can tell me what’s wrong with your car.”

Blaine lets out a shaky breath and looks at Finn, who smiles at him, before following Burt back to a small office inside the garage. It’s cluttered with papers and Blaine stands awkwardly in the door, looking around at anything but Burt. He hears Burt sigh roughly and then the squeak of a chair as Burt sits down.

“So, what’s going on with your car?” Burt asks.

Blaine blinks. Even though that’s what Burt had said they were going to talk about, Blaine had assumed he was being taken back to the office to be interrogated about everything that happened three years ago and everything that has happened since.

“Ummm,” Blaine coughs, “My check engine light came on and something is making a strange whirring sound.” He says, finally looking over at the older man.

Burt nods, “I’ll get one of my guys to take a look at it.” He says.

Blaine nods, “Thanks.” He says and then a silence descends in the room.

Blaine wonders if it would be incredibly rude to just leave. He doesn’t know what to say to Burt. He’s pretty sure Kurt’s father hates him anyway.

Burt sighs again, “Kid, why do you look like I’m about to attack you?” 

Blaine jumps slightly and then chuckles to himself because he *is* acting like Burt is seconds away from attacking him, and while Blaine may not know a lot, he knows Burt Hummel is not really the attacking kind. Maybe if someone was hurting his son…

Blaine swallows at the thought. Blaine *had* hurt Burt’s son. He tenses slightly again.

Burt presses his lips together and considers Blaine with a calculating gaze, “How are things?” He asks.

Blaine nods, “Good.” He answers. Are they? Are they good?

Burt laughs, “Well, if that ain’t the biggest load of bull I’ve ever heard.” Blaine shakes his head but Burt doesn’t really give him a chance to deny it. Would he deny it?, “I’ll get Tom to look at your car and let you know what’s going on. Are you going to need a ride home?”

Blaine nods.

“Well, just head up to Finn and he’ll get you set up with everything.” Burt finishes and Blaine nods again before turning to leave, “Hey, wait.” Burt says and Blaine stops, turning slightly to find that Burt has risen from his chair.

Blaine’s eyes are wide as he watches the bigger man walk towards him, “Come here.” Burt says, softly before pulling at Blaine’s shoulder and bringing him in for a hug.

Blaine tenses but it doesn’t take long before he’s sort of melting and wrapping his arms around the other man. It’s been a long time since he’s been hugged by Burt, but if he’s honest, it’s been a long time since he’s been hugged by anyone. Burt smells like grease and laundry detergent and Blaine is catapulted back to when hugs with the older Hummel were a regular occurence.

“Come to dinner at the house on Friday.” Burt says.

Blaine pulls back and coughs awkwardly, not making eye contact, “Oh um, thank you but…”

Burt leaves his hands on Blaine’s shoulder and ducks to meet his eyeline, “I wasn’t really asking. It has been far too long. Poor Carole has missed hanging out with Bethany. You’ve gotta come.”

Blaine swallows, and maybe it’s residual effects from the hug, but he nods, “Okay. Okay, we’ll come.”

-- -- --

“Can you grab the pie, please?” Blaine asks as he and Bethany get out of the car, which is newly fixed and running well, on Friday night.

Bethany rolls her eyes but does as she asks, “Must you roll your eyes all the time?” Blaine asks, just a little exasperated.

“Must you dress like a five-year-old all the time?” Bethany shoots back.

Blaine scowls and straightens his cardigan. He doesn’t comment further because he doesn’t want to fight now and he knows he’s being punchy only because he’s nervous and Bethany’s being grumpy because she’s twelve...and probably a little nervous as well.

Her eyes had widened when Blaine had told her about their plans for Friday night. He couldn’t tell if she was excited or just shocked, but she hadn’t put up any fight (a rarity whenever Blaine suggested a plan of any kind) and had actually been ready to go before him (another rarity).

They make their way up the path and Blaine knocks when they get to the door, “I’ll get it!” He hears from inside and moments later Carole Hummel-Hudson is standing before them dressed in black pants and a black and white top that are both flattering. Blaine doesn’t really get to see much more as he’s pulled into an enthusiastic hug by Kurt’s step-mother.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you two! Look how old you’ve gotten!” Carole exclaims, letting go of Blaine and giving him a once over like a protective mother, before moving to pull Bethany into a hug.

Bethany has just enough time to move the pie to one hand to keep it from getting squished between them and Blaine is sure when he sees Bethany’s face there is going to be a ‘what the fuck’ expression on it.

However, he’s proven wrong when Carole turns and Bethany’s face comes into view just over Carole’s shoulder. Bethany’s eyes are closed and she has a soft smile on her face as she hugs Carole back one handed. Turns out it wasn’t just Blaine who had missed being hugged by such warm, welcoming people.

Blaine smiles at the pair as they separate. Bethany’s smile drops as she scowls at Blaine before turning to Carole with a smile, “We...brought pie.” She says, offering the dessert in her hand.

Carole claps, “Excellent! Now, I hope you’re ready to help me in the kitchen, young lady. I’ve missed having competent hands in there. Finn and Burt are just too oafish to be helpful.”

Bethany giggles and Blaine looks at his sister with raised eyebrows. It’s not a sound he’s heard in a long while.

“Blaine, Burt and Finn are in the den. You’re welcome to hang out with them or come join us in the kitchen. From what I remember you aren’t bad with a knife and mixing bowl.” She winks at him.

Blaine feels completely disoriented. Why doesn’t Carole hate him? Why is she being so nice and acting like nothing has changed and like they haven’t not seen each other in three years? Blaine feels the knots in his chest that have been there all week loosening slightly and he brings a hand up to massage his breast bone in response.

“I’ll go say hi in the den and then maybe join you in the kitchen?” He says and Carole nods but Bethany sighs.

“We don’t need any help in the kitchen, Blaine.” She says before stalking around Carole and into the house.

Blaine stands awkwardly on the threshold as Carole looks at him and then at Bethany’s retreating back. He can tell there are questions behind her eyes but he’s thankful when she doesn’t voice any.

“Well, I’m sure once you start watching the game, you won’t want to join us anyway. But you are more than welcome to do either.” Carole says, ushering him inside.

-- -- --

Blaine enters the den to find Burt sitting on a chair and Finn sitting on the couch. If it weren’t for the fact that Finn’s features have matured slightly with age, Blaine would have been convinced he’d time travelled to the past.

Both men look up when Blaine enters and he waves awkwardly.

“I’m going to go help mom with the cooking!” Finn suddenly says, too loudly for the space they’re in and making Blaine jump and Burt sigh.

Burt and Blaine watch Finn leave, silently, before Blaine turns back to Burt who shakes his head, “He was supposed to do that tactfully. But who am I kidding, that boy doesn’t have a tactful bone in his body.”

Blaine chuckles lightly before making his way over to the spot Finn vacated and sitting on the edge of the couch. He knows Burt would want to talk to him but he’d honestly hoped for a little bit of a time beforehand. Oh, hell, who is he kidding, he’d been hoping to avoid this conversation completely.

“So,” Burt starts, turning the game - UCLA versus Cincinnati - on mute and turning to Blaine, who looks back at him with a slightly worried expression, “Why haven’t I heard from you in three years?”

Blaine sucks in a breath. He knew this probably wasn’t going to be a fun conversation, but apparently Burt wasn’t pulling any punches or starting slow. Blaine shifts, “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

Burt quirks an eyebrow, “What in the world would give you that idea?”

Blaine quirks his own eyebrow, “Because I hurt him.” He says simply.

Burt scoffs, “From what I heard, Kurt did more of the hurting.” Blaine sucks in a breath. He hasn’t heard Kurt’s name outside his own head in almost three years and he’s surprised by the pang of hurt that blooms in his chest at the word.

But then Burt’s words register and he looks up, “What?” He asks, breathlessly.

“When I finally got the story out of Kurt about why you two broke up, I was mad.” Burt says and Blaine nods, “At *him*.” Burt emphasizes and Blaine’s eyes snap to the older man in surprise. Burt shakes his head, “Look, should you have lied about going to New York? Probably not. But I also know how stubborn and strong-headed my son is. He wouldn’t have accepted any other answer. And you were honest with him in the end. His not being able to accept that isn’t your fault.”

Blaine feels tears prick at his eyes. He wasn’t prepared for this and he certainly wasn’t prepared for it ten minutes after entering the house. He takes a deep breath and blinks at the carpet as he tries to process Burt’s words.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you.” Burt continues as if Blaine’s participation in the conversation really isn’t needed. Blaine looks back up at him. Of course Burt is mad at him, “But not for what you think I’m mad at you for.” Blaine’s brow furrows, “Part of the deal was that you and Bethany would check in and come to dinners and after what happened you just...stopped. Everything. All contact. That’s not fair, Blaine. Do you know how worried I’ve been about the two of you?”

Blaine breathes in sharply, feeling much like he did during his and Burt’s hug earlier in the week and Carole’s inspection at the door a few minutes ago. He’s gone so long without the nurturing care or guidance of a parental figure that he feels sort of shaky in the face of it.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out, not really knowing what else to say.

Burt observes him for a moment with pursed lips before nodding, “Apology accepted. As long as from now on you keep in touch and come to dinners again.” Blaine nods before Burt is even finished the sentence and Burt nods again, “All right. Now, I’ve got more to say but I think that’s enough for tonight. Whatta you say we turn on the game and enjoy the rest of our evening?”

Chapter Three

“Hey Kurt! Dinner tonight?” Rachel enthuses the next Friday, as soon as Kurt picks up his phone.

He chuckles at her overexuberance, “Sure. Just tell me the time and place. But not that Thai place again. I’m still having nightmares from that night.”

Rachel sighs and he’s sure she’s remembering the night they ate at Lemon Grass and then proceeded to throw up until dawn.

“Never again.” She agrees.

Kurt’s phone beeps in his hand and he pulls it away from his face to see a call from Quintin coming in. He smiles and brings his phone to his ear again, “Hey Rach, Quintin’s calling. Just text me the information.”

“Oooooh Quintin! That’s been going on for…”

“I gotta go!” Kurt interrupts and he can hear Rachel giggle as he presses the button to end the call with his best friend and connect Quintin’s call, “Hey!” He says.

“Hey, I was just calling to see if you wanted to do dinner tonight.” Quintin asks in his smooth tenor voice.

Kurt pouts, “I actually just agreed to have dinner with Rachel tonight.” He says, “But you could come!” 

Quintin chuckles and Kurt feels his stomach flip pleasantly at the sound, “Kurt, it’s fine. Enjoy your dinner with Rachel. Tomorrow?”

Things with Quintin have been going really well. They’ve been seeing each other for two weeks and Kurt has been enjoying getting to know the other man.

“Yeah. Tomorrow sounds great.” He says around a smile.

His phone beeps in his hand again and he pulls it back with a shocked expression at his own seeming popularity to see Finn’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, Quintin, my brother’s calling and I always like to pick up in case it’s something to do with my dad.” Kurt explains.

“Totally get it.” Quintin says, easily, “I’ll text you about tomorrow.” And then he’s gone, allowing Finn’s call to connect. 

Kurt smiles as he accepts his stepbrother’s call, thinking how sweet Quintin is, “Hey Finn.” He says.

“Hey Kurt! What’s up, bro?” Kurt rolls his eyes affectionately at Finn’s words. He both loves and finds it mildly baffling how close they’ve gotten over the years considering how their relationship had started.

“Nothing. Just working on a paper. What’s up?” Kurt asks and while his question is meant to find out the purpose behind Finn’s call, it causes the other man to begin a description of his day. It’s at this point Kurt realizes that Finn doesn’t HAVE a purpose for calling beyond sharing random facts about his day.

“There was a guy who came into the shop with his bike and asked us to fix it. Like his pedal bike, not a motorcycle. And then at lunch, Frank ate my tuna sandwich so I had to go out and get another one. Can you believe that?” Kurt hums but he knows by now it’s more a rhetorical question, “And then I had to help clean Mom and Burt’s house for dinner tonight just because Blaine and Bethany are coming. But I mean why is that my…” He trails off but Kurt’s not sure if he really does trail off or is still speaking and Kurt can’t hear him over the white noise in his ears.

Blaine and Bethany? Blaine and Bethany having dinner with his family? How long has this been happening? Why has no one told Kurt until now? 

Kurt feels his chest tighten and his next breath stutters out of him, “Shit. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.” Finn moans.

“How long have they been going to dinners?” Kurt asks when he finds his voice. He knows from his father that Blaine and Bethany stopped coming to dinner after he and Kurt broke up but he has no idea when they started again. 

His father mentioning that fact had been the only time in the three years since the break up that Kurt had heard Blaine’s name, until now. The truth is, he has been actively avoiding hearing it.

He hasn’t admitted it to anyone, but he had almost immediately regretted breaking up with Blaine. Part of the reason he’d been so despondent the days following was because he was trying to force himself not to drive over to Blaine’s and try and fix everything. But he had messed things up too terribly, Blaine was too angry, so he forced himself to stay put. He’d told everyone he didn’t want to hear about Blaine anymore and if they thought that was because he was angry (as opposed to ashamed) then that was probably better.

“Ummm just last week. Listen, Kurt, I don’t think I was supposed to say anything. I’m...sorry.” Finn mumbles, sadly, and while Kurt would love to be mad at his brother, he can’t find it in himself to be mad at the well-meaning, though oblivious, man.

“I gotta go, Finn.” He says.

“Don’t be mad.” 

“I’m not.” At you. He adds to himself, “Look, I really do have to go. We’ll talk later.”

He hangs up when Finn says goodbye and stares at his phone for a few silent moments. Who is he actually mad at? His father? Blaine? Both? Himself?

He shakes his head violently to clear that thought from his brain and sighs down at his phone. He wants nothing more than to call his dad and ask for more information but he really needs to get this paper done. He also wants to think about what he wants to say.

With another heavy sigh, he lays his phone on the desk next to his computer and tries to focus back on the paper. He gives up after the fifth time he types Blaine’s name into his paper and decides he’ll have to get back to it later.

-- -- --

Blaine smiles as he watches Bethany finish getting ready to head over to Burt and Carole’s. Something has been different about his little sister over the last week. It’s not a huge change but she’s seemed...happier. She scowls at Blaine less and they’ve fought slightly less than usual. She even smiled at him the other night when he suggested they get macaroni and cheese for dinner.

“Ready to go?” Bethany asks, putting the finishing touches on her ponytail.

Blaine nods, “I am.” He says, gesturing out the door with an arm for her to go first. She snorts and rolls her eyes as she goes, and while he hates when she rolls her eyes, for the first time in a long time her eye roll felt more affectionate than simply annoyed.

Progress.

When they get to Burt and Carole’s, Bethany immediately heads off into the kitchen where Carole and Finn are baking cookies. Blaine follows Burt into the living room and they sit down on the couch.

“So how’s that Grand Am coming?” Blaine asks, conversationally. He’s spoken to Burt a handful of times on the phone over the past week.

Burt purses his lips as he considers him and Blaine can’t help but feel like he’s being scrutinized. He’s not sure why though. He hasn’t done anything wrong from what he can remember, especially not where Burt is concerned.

“Alright, I’m going to ask you something and I want an honest answer. Understand?” Burt asks.

Blaine nods with big eyes, what could Burt possibly want to know?

“How are things?” The older man asks.

Blaine lets out a surprised laugh, “Good.” He answers quickly, baffled that that was the question.

Burt narrows his eyes, “I told you to be honest.”

Blaine’s eyes widen further before he shakes his head in confusion. He wasn’t lying. Things are good. Well, things are...fine. Okay, things aren’t great….

...Had he lied?

Burt sighs and before Blaine can answer or even figure out what he’s thinking, Burt speaks again, “Look, Blaine, I admit I haven’t seen you in three years but I know what ‘not alright’ looks like and you are the definition of ‘not alright.’”

Blaine blinks at the older man and the room is silent before Blaine feels tears burning at the back of his eyes. He’s shocked to realize he’s close to crying and yet he has to blink forcefully to keep the tears at bay.

Burt sighs again, “What’s going on, bud? I know it’s been a while but I like to feel like I used to be able to help you when you needed it.”

Blaine nods, “You did.” He assures.

Burt nods as well, “Then let me help you *now*.”

Blaine takes a deep breath and lets it out as more tears threaten, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He whispers hoarsely and his fight against his tears is lost as a few traitorous drops fall. He quickly wipes them away with his fingers but more are produced in their absence, “For the last three years, Bethany just seems to...hate me more than she loves me. It’s like there’s this distance between us that was never there before and I don’t know how to fix it.” Now that he’s started, he doesn’t know how to stop, “And I just feel like nothing is going my way - I’m a giant disappointment at work, I’m having to drop more classes than I’m taking at college, and I always feel like I’m being pulled in a million different directions and I don’t know where to look first.” He runs a shaky hand over his mouth and shakes his head, “I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Blaine takes a shaky breath after his...there’s no other way to put it, but verbal diarrhea. The thought makes him chuckle and then he chuckles harder when Burt’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“I just...spewed that all out, didn’t I?” Blaine laughs, wiping a stray tear that escapes.

Burt purses his lips, “You know, kid, no one knows what they’re doing.”

Blaine sighs as his laughter subsides, “Yeah, but does everyone feel like a failure ninety percent of the time?”

Burt shrugs, “Maybe not ninety?” He says, “But I can’t tell you how many times raising Kurt I would think ‘What the hell have I gotten myself into?’ And I wasn’t twenty-one trying to raise a twelve-year-old on my own.”

Blaine nods and takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor and running his hands over his thighs. He hears Burt sigh, “I know this isn’t easy, Blaine, but you’re not alone. You’ve got people you can lean on if you want to.”

Blaine nods again and wipes at his eyes as more tears fall, “I’ve felt so alone these last three years.”

Burt sighs and nods, bringing a hand up to lay on Blaine’s shoulder and squeezing, “You’re not alone. And you weren’t alone then. We were always a phone call away.”

Blaine falls into the hug like he can’t keep himself up anymore. Burt welcomes him with open arms and they are quiet as they embrace, Burt squeezing Blaine’s shoulder with a firm and solid grip.

For the first time in three years, Blaine doesn’t feel so alone.

-- -- --

“Hummel Tires and Lube?” Kurt smiles instantly at his father’s voice and the phrase he grew up listening to every time he called the shop.

“Hey Dad.” Kurt says.

“Kurt!” Kurt’s sure the warmth that enters Burt’s voice isn’t his imagination and it makes him smile even more despite the reason for his call, “How’s it going, bud?”

Kurt nods, “Good. Good.”

“Bought your ticket to come home yet?” Burt asks.

Kurt rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Yes Dad. I’ve had my flight booked for almost a month.”

“Good.” Burt says, simply.

Kurt sighs, “Look, Dad, I called because I wanted to ask you about something.”

Burt is quiet on the phone and then Kurt hears him sigh, “Finn told you, didn’t he? About Blaine and Bethany.”

Kurt’s not surprised his father put two and two together so quickly, “Yeah.” He answers.

Burt sighs again and Kurt can picture him taking his hat off and rubbing his forehead, “I don’t know what you want me to say about it, Kurt.”

“How about the fact that you didn’t tell me.”

“For one, it’s only happened twice so it’s not like I’ve been keeping it a secret for months, and two, I’m under no obligation to tell you anything about it.” Burt responds.

Kurt guffaws, “You don’t think I should have a say in my own father inviting my ex-boyfriend over to dinner?”

“No, Kurt, I don’t. You don’t have to be happy about it, but it’s happening.” 

Kurt blinks, “So you’re picking him over me?”

“No!” Burt exclaims, but he seems angry as opposed to shocked. He sighs again, “Look, you know how I feel about your breakup with Blaine but I respect that it’s your life and you’re allowed to make the decisions you do.” Kurt feels a pang in his chest and has to bring a hand up to massage it, “But I never said I would stop making sure Blaine was okay.”

Kurt presses his lips together, “Okay.” He whispers finally.

“Okay.” Burt says, “Now, tell me more about this Quintin.”

Chapter Four

As March turns to April, Blaine and Bethany continue to spend every Friday evening at the Hummel-Hudson house. Blaine feels no more secure in his life, but he finds that for one night a week, he can breathe a little easier.

He finds it strange that no one ever brings up Kurt. It’s like the man doesn’t even exist outside the pictures around the house (which are enough to make Blaine’s heart ache a little), and while Blaine appreciates it, in a way, he also gets the feeling they’re avoiding talking about Kurt for his benefit.

He wants to tell them not to do that, that he’s a grown up with grown up responsibilities and that he can handle the mention of his ex boyfriend's name, except...the words never leave his lips. He’s sort of grateful he doesn’t have to deal with the “Kurt” of it all. That he can enjoy these dinners and the comfort they bring, without acknowledging the giant (but beautiful) blue-eyed elephant in the room.

He can tell that Bethany is benefiting from their time at the Hummel-Hudsons as well. She smiles more readily and will voluntarily spend time with Blaine now and again. It’s not like it was before, but it’s better than it’s been.

One night after Friday dinner, Bethany follows Carole into the kitchen and sits at the kitchen island while the older woman cleans up. Blaine, Finn, and Burt are busy watching football (Bethany once asked if football was the only channel the Hummel-Hudson house got).

“Hey Carole?” Bethany asks as Carole begins to load dishes into the dishwasher. Carole hums and looks up with a smile before continuing her clean up, “Have you ever been to New York City?”

Carole looks up with a confused smile, “I have. A few times. Why do you ask?”

Bethany shrugs, pulling her thin long sleeve shirt sleeves over her hands, “Just curious. What’s it like?”

Carole sighs, thoughtfully, as she puts in the last plate, closes the dishwasher and grabs the kitchen towel. She holds it between her hands as she leans on her elbows on the other side of the island, “It’s....busy.” She says, “But it’s also really exciting. There are always people moving and things going on. Your eyes never get bored.”

Bethany nods, “Cool.” She says, simply.

Carole narrows her eyes and pouts her lips, “Are you sure there isn’t another reason you’re asking?”

Bethany shakes her head and smiles, “Nope. Just wanted to know.”

Carole smiles before pushing up and turning to the sink, “Well, maybe one day you can make your way there, if you want to. It’s definitely something everyone should experience at least one.”

Bethany nods, “Yeah. One day.” She whispers, thoughtfully rubbing her finger on the marble countertop, “Ummm, do you think it would be cool if I...slept over at some point?”

Bethany hadn’t intended to ask, didn’t know if she’d be welcome, but she has been dying to ask since she and Blaine began coming to dinners again.

Carole turns around with wide eyes before her face breaks into a large smile and Bethany releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, “Of course, sweetheart!” Carole enthuses.

“Cool.” Bethany says with a wide smile of her own.

-- -- --

It’s a few weeks later that Blaine pulls up in front of the Hummel-Hudson home to pick up Bethany after she had spent the night after dinner. Carole had told him she would be happy to drive Bethany home but Blaine had assured her he was more than happy to pick his sister up.

He had enjoyed the night to himself more than he thought he would. He’d poured a glass of wine and spent the night watching neglected PVR shows. It may not have been the most exciting night but it had definitely felt nice, and needed.

He makes his way up the driveway and knocks on the door. He doesn’t have to wait long for it to open, but instead of Carole like he expected, it’s Bethany on the other side.

“Carole had to go to work.” Bethany explains as she opens the door more for Blaine to enter, “She left about a half hour ago. I’ll go grab my stuff.”

Blaine nods as he makes his way inside and closes the door behind him. He follows Bethany into the living room and she makes her way to the couch, shoving a sweater into her overnight bag. She sighs and looks up at the ceiling, as if trying to mentally make sure she has everything.

Her eyes light up a moment later, “Oh! I forgot my phone charger upstairs. Be right back!” She calls, already running out of the room and up the stairs.

Blaine sighs as he looks around, rocking on his heels as he waits. He hears a noise but it’s not Bethany coming back downstairs, it’s the front door opening.

He turns, expecting to see Burt or Finn, but his eyes widen as Kurt walks through the door, pulling a suitcase behind him and talking fast, “Hey! My flight got changed from tonight to this afternoon, so here I am! Surprise!”

Blaine is frozen to the spot as Kurt drops his bags and kicks his shoes off, obviously not realizing that Blaine is the only person he’s speaking to.

Blaine’s breath catches at the sight of Kurt. He’s shocked sure, but he also notices how much Kurt has changed in the three years since he’s seen him. While Kurt is distracted, Blaine has the chance to notice how much broader Kurt’s shoulders are, how much more slim his waist is, and how much more...manly he appears. Of course Kurt was always ‘manly’ but when Blaine had known him, he was still part boy. Any part of Kurt that was boyish seems to have disappeared.

Blaine swallows thickly just as Kurt’s eyes make a sweep of the room. Blaine notices how Kurt’s face goes from open and happy to shocked as his eyes (those beautiful blue eyes that haven’t changed in three years) settle on Blaine. 

The pair stare at each other for a long moment. Blaine’s not sure if either of them are going to break the silence. Blaine’s not sure it’s his place to break the silence, but at the same time he’s honestly not sure how Kurt is going to react.

-- -- --

Those eyes. Those eyes that Kurt has tried not to think about for three years. Those eyes that first made him start to fall in love with Blaine before he even knew Blaine’s name, or even that what he was feeling was the beginnings of love. Those eyes are staring at him right now, from his father’s living room, and it feels like a punch to Kurt’s gut.

-- -- --

Blaine is sure his swallow is audible in the too quiet room. He feels his palms start to sweat as he and Kurt continue to stare at each other. Should he just...leave? He figures that would make things really awkward. Should he say something? But wouldn’t that be even more awkward than they are now? He could just leave and not come back.

The stairs creek to his right and Blaine realizes he had completely forgotten Bethany was here. He’d had this momentary plan to just flee and he would have left his little sister behind. Great parenting, Blaine.

Blaine doesn’t want to take his eyes off Kurt but he turns to find Bethany frozen on the bottom stair, eyes wide as she looks back and forth between Blaine and Kurt.

It’s a strange tableau and Blaine is transported back to three years ago when this would not have been a weird scenario. When Bethany would have run and jumped into Kurt’s arms and he would have laughed and hugged her back as he looked adoringly at Blaine.

The threesome are frozen for another long moment before Bethany breaks the awkward stillness. She shouts, ‘Kurt!’ and is across the hall and throwing her arms around the other man before Blaine’s eyes can fully focus on the movement.

He looks over to find Kurt looking momentarily shocked (he hasn’t really looked anything other than shocked since his eyes met Blaine’s) but his face is soon melting into a smile as he hugs the girl back, “Hi Annie.” He whispers and Blaine feels a shiver travel through him at the voice. That voice.

Blaine has just a moment to register the fact that Kurt had called Bethany ‘Annie’ - the only other person other than Blaine to have ever done that - before Bethany is pulling away and bouncing on her toes like the nine-year-old she was the last time Kurt saw her, “I’ve missed you!” She enthuses.

Kurt’s eyes flick over Bethany’s shoulder to Blaine’s before moving back to look down at Bethany, “I...missed you too.”

Blaine’s pretty sure he hadn’t imagined the hesitation in Kurt’s sentence. Was Kurt lying? He’s simultaneously grateful that Kurt would protect Bethany from the truth that he probably hadn’t thought much about her in three years, and indignant on her behalf that he probably *hadn’t* thought about her in three years.

“We should probably head home, Annie.” Blaine says, the first thing he’s said since Kurt entered the house, and he mentally pulls up short. That hadn’t been what he meant to say. He’s not sure WHAT exactly he’d meant to say, but suggesting that they leave hadn’t been it.

He’d thought a lot about what he would do if he ever saw Kurt again, thought about it even more since reconnecting with Burt and Carole in fact, but he’s now convinced he hadn’t actually thought it would happen. So now, when faced with the real Kurt in front of him, his only reaction is to leave.

Bethany turns to him with a pout. She turns back to Kurt, whose face is unreadable (Blaine wishes he could read it), and then back to Blaine, “But…” She starts, but Blaine shakes his head.

“We gotta go.” He says.

Bethany’s pouts turns into a scowl, before she’s huffing in that all too familiar way. She moves swiftly to grab her bag and then stalks out of the house without a word. Blaine sighs. So much for progress.

He turns back to Kurt who is looking at him, again with an unreadable expression, “I guess I’ll....bye.”

Blaine isn’t above saying he fled, leaving Kurt standing in the same position he’d been in for most of their interaction. He closes the front door behind him and walks swiftly to the car. Bethany is sitting in the front seat with her arms crossed and a deeper scowl on her face.

Blaine gets into the driver’s seat, does up his seatbelt, checks to make sure Bethany’s is done up and then goes through the motions of driving home. 

It’s not until he’s in his parking spot at their apartment and Bethany has huffed her way out of the car that he realizes he doesn’t remember anything about their journey home and that his hands are shaking on the steering wheel.

Chapter Five

Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose after handing off a caramel mocha latte to the blonde lady in front of him. It’s been a long day, a long week, hell, a long few years. 

After leaving (running from) the Hummel-Hudson house six days ago, Blaine has been avoiding - Burt, Carole, Finn, anyone associated with the Hummel-Hudsons. It’s not very mature of him, he knows, but he can’t seem to make himself answer the phone when Burt calls or even answer Bethany honestly when she’d asked about it.

“So Kurt’s back.” She’d said, nonchalantly, during breakfast the morning after they’d run into Kurt.

Blaine had let his fork drop on his plate with a loud clang. Bethany hadn’t spoken to him the night before, stalking to her room and slamming the door, “Can we not talk about this, Bethany?” He asked.

Bethany had pouted thoughtfully at him, “Why did we leave?”

“Because we needed to go.” Blaine answered shortly, “And Kurt didn’t need us there after just getting home.” At least that part hadn’t been a lie.

Bethany’s eyes had narrowed, “I wanted to see him.”

Blaine had closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again with a sigh, “Bethany, yesterday wasn’t the day for a reunion.”

“Then when can we spend time with Kurt?” Bethany had challenged.

Blaine squeezed his hand into a fist, “I don’t know.” Probably never, he’d thought.

Bethany all but growled, “You are such a loser!” She’d exploded.

Blaine’s eyes widened, “You do not speak to me that way.” 

Blaine rolled her eyes, “Save it, Blaine.” And with that, she’d pushed up from her chair and left the room.

Blaine can count on one hand the number of words he and Bethany have shared over the last five days. He’d gone from thinking everything was getting better to it never being worse, and all he can think is that he has Kurt to thank for that.

He pulls the handle on the steamer harder than necessary at the thought and is scowling at it when he hears a throat clear from behind him. He turns, trying to school his features into something more customer service like, to find Kurt standing at the register. His arms are crossed and he’s got a sassy eyebrow quirked as he regards Blaine.

Blaine is shocked out of his momentary anger and his eyes flit around the room - is he searching for an exit?

“Can we talk?” Kurt asks, shortly. He seems angry. Why is *Kurt* angry? From Blaine’s perspective he has no right to be.

“I’m working.” Blaine answers, gesturing around the coffee shop with only two customers at the moment.

Kurt sighs, “When do you have your next break?”

Technically Blaine’s overdue for a break but the prospect of talking to Kurt makes his heart pound. They’re quiet for another moment until Kurt quirks another eyebrow and Blaine huffs, “Fine. I can take a break in ten minutes.”

Kurt nods and turns to walk to a table without another word. Blaine watches him go and, even though he’s angry, he can’t help but notice how good Kurt’s ass looks in his pants today.

-- -- --

“So, what’s up?” Blaine asks, as he sits heavily in the chair opposite Kurt fifteen minutes later. He’s not going to admit he stalled for an extra five minutes.

Kurt is sitting with one leg crossed over the other and his arms crossed tightly over his chest, “Why are you ignoring my dad?”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up. Out of all the things Kurt could have said, that wasn’t what Blaine had been expecting, “Ummmm…”

“He says you haven’t answered his calls all week. By Wednesday he was convinced you were dead.” Kurt rolls his eyes at this but then looks pointedly back at Blaine.

“I’ve been busy.” Blaine defends.

Kurt rolls his eyes again, “I just came to make sure you come to dinner tonight.”

“I…” Blaine starts but is interrupted.

“It would make Dad happy.” Kurt continues.

Blaine swallows and wrings his hands together, “Are we...going to be okay to be around each other?”

Kurt stares at him for a moment before sighing and looking away, “We’re adults, I think we can handle it.” He says, “And besides, I’m only home for a few weeks.”

Blaine nods and looks down at the floor, suddenly aware of how strange this conversation is. They’re being civil enough but it’s not *them*. There is a distance that, even before they really knew each other, wasn’t ever there. Blaine can’t decide if that distance is from three years apart, Blaine’s anger, or Kurt’s...Blaine’s not sure what Kurt is feeling. That in and of itself is strange. He had always felt like he could always tell what Kurt was feeling.

Kurt widens his eyes and shakes his head expectantly, “So? Are you guys going to come to dinner?”

Blaine swallows and nods, “Yeah, yeah we’ll come.”

Kurt nods, uncrosses his legs and rubs his hands down his thighs, “Good. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

And then he’s up and gone. Blaine watches him go and thinks that agreeing may have not been a good idea.

-- -- --

By the time Kurt makes it to his car and closes the driver’s side door, he can’t keep a handle on his shaky hands anymore. It had felt like a Herculean task to keep them from shaking all the way through his conversation with Blaine. He’d had to leave as soon as possible to keep Blaine from noticing.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, massaging the centre of his chest at the pain he feels there. He can do this. He can be around his ex-boyfriend one night a week while he’s home. That should be easy. Kurt’s moved on. He’s got Quintin. Nice, sweet, complimentary, Quintin. Kurt blinks his eyes open and looks at the clock, realizing just now he’d told Quintin he’d text when he got to Lima and hadn’t.

He picks up his phone with less shaky fingers and thumbs open his messenger app. He gives a small smile at the last text Quintin had sent;

Quintin

Say hi to your dad! I know we’ve never met but...it’s nice to be nice!

Quintin is nice. Quintin is lovely. Quintin is who Kurt is with now. He hasn’t been with Blaine for three years, and beyond the potential awkwardness of ‘you were the first boy to see me naked and touch my body’, there shouldn’t be anything strange between them.

He’s sure Blaine’s moved on too.

-- -- -- 

Blaine gives a shaky laugh at the joke Finn just told. It’s after dinner and the entire Hummel-Hudson family, along with Bethany and Blaine,  are sitting in Burt and Carole’s living room talking. 

Blaine is surprised by how well the evening has gone. He attributes a lot of that to the fact that he and Kurt have stayed pretty far away from each other all night. Blaine hasn’t even really made eye contact with the other man outside of quick glances. It’s not exactly comfortable, but Blaine figures it’s definitely less awkward than what the alternative would be.

He could tell Kurt’s family hadn’t known how to act at first. Burt, Carole, and Finn had looked back and forth between Kurt and Blaine when he and Bethany had first arrived at the house, as if they were ticking time bombs, before Bethany had shot forward and hugged Kurt much like she had the afternoon Kurt got home. She hasn’t really left his side all night and Blaine’s not sure how to feel about that.

He chances another glance at Kurt to find the other man looking back. They stare at each other for a few beats before Kurt is pulled into a conversation with Finn, but as Blaine keeps watching, Kurt keeps flicking his eyes in Blaine’s direction.

Blaine pouts thoughtfully, trying to figure out what he’s feeling. Anger, definitely. He’s been angry for three years. Angry since he walked out of Kurt’s bedroom. He knows it’s not productive to be angry, and has spent three years trying to hide his anger (or let it go), but...he’s angry. And now, with Kurt sitting in front of him, he wants nothing more than to *just* be angry. Anger is a simpler emotion. But Blaine also finds himself feeling longing, heartache, and if his pulse has anything to say about it, lust.

God, what he wouldn’t give to just be angry.

“So, when do we get to meet Quintin?” Blaine is shaken from his thoughts by Finn’s voice and he turns to find Kurt looking at Finn with wide eyes - silently screaming at him.

The whole room goes silent, or at least it does to Blaine’s ears. Who’s Quintin?

“Who’s Quintin?” Bethany asks for him and Blaine both wants to know and doesn’t want to know in equal measure.

Kurt coughs, awkwardly, and his eyes flick to Blaine before he smiles at Bethany, “Just...a guy.”

Blaine feels like he’s been punched in the gut. It’s obvious Quintin is someone Kurt is seeing. Have they been dating long? Is it serious? Blaine feels nauseous.

He tries to shake himself out of it, like he’s been doing for three years with his anger (oh and hey look at that, he’s angry about this too), and when Kurt looks over at him with an unsure expression, Blaine tries to school his features into something neutral.

The way Kurt bites his lip makes Blaine think he wasn’t entirely successful.

“We should get going.” Blaine blurts suddenly. He’s got to stop fleeing, but today isn’t the day to quit cold turkey.

Bethany pouts and glares at him but doesn’t protest as she gets up to put her shoes on. She hugs everyone in the room, thanks Burt and Carole, and then walks out of the front door. Blaine hugs Carole and Burt, gives a small wave to Finn who looks a little like someone kicked his dog, and then tries to give a smile to Kurt. It’s more a wobbly grimace than anything else and he leaves without another word.

He sits next to Bethany in the car and looks over at her. She’s staring out the window, despondently, and Blaine sighs before turning the key in the ignition. 

His brow furrows when nothing happens. He resets the key and tries to start the engine again, only to get the same result - nothing.

“What’s wrong with it?” Bethany asks.

Blaine sighs, “I don’t...know.” He mumbles as he tries the key again.

“I don’t think turning the key over and over again is going to solve the problem.” Bethany snarks and Blaine spares her an exasperated look before turning the key again, praying that this time the result will be different.

It’s not and he slumps forward to lay his head on the steering wheel. Of course. Of course this would happen now.

“I’ll be right back.” He says before getting out of the car and trudging back up the path to the front door.

He knocks and wrings his hands together while he waits. When Finn opens the door with a confused and then surprised expression, lit by the soft glow of light from the hallway, Blaine almost sighs in relief. Out of all the options to answer the door, this is the best one possible.

“My car won’t start.” He tells Finn without ceremony.

Finn pouts, “That’s not good.” He needlessly provides.

Blaine nods anyway, “Can you come take a look at it?”

Finn follows Blaine outside and pops the hood of the car. He pokes around for a moment, Blaine not really knowing what he’s looking for or if anything major is really wrong, before straightening with a sigh.

“It’s the starter.” Finn supplies and at Blaine’s confused shrug he clarifies, “It’s a part that starts the engine so it can run on its own without you having to do anything.”

Blaine nods with pseudo-understanding, “That sounds...important.”

Finn chuckles, “Well, your car isn’t getting home tonight, that’s for sure.”

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, “Okay ummm, would you be able to drive us home?”

Finn frowns, “I’ve had too much to drink. Sorry. But maybe Burt or Carole?”

Blaine nods and follows Finn into the house after telling Bethany he’d be right back.

“Hey! Blaine’s starter is shot.” Finn calls through the house as they make their way to the dining room where everyone is tidying up.

Burt looks up from the plates he’s putting away with pursed lips, “It looked fine the other week.”

Finn shrugs, “Well it’s not fine now. Can one of you drive Blaine and Bethany home? Their car isn’t going anywhere tonight.”

Blaine notices Kurt sending him furtive glances as he arranges silverware, trying to pretend like he’s not paying attention to the conversation.

Burt clicks his tongue, “I’m afraid we both drank a little too much.” He says apologetically, “But…” He lets the word trail off as he turns to look at Kurt who is staring pointedly at a fork in his hand, “Kurt, you didn’t have anything to drink tonight.”

Kurt looks up with a smile that’s more a grimace, “No. I did not.”

Burt nods, “Then could you drive Blaine and Bethany home? I’ll get your car to the shop tomorrow, Blaine.”

Blaine nods to say he heard Burt but is too busy watching Kurt to make any real effort. Kurt is fidgeting with the silverware with fluttering hands and he hasn’t looked at Blaine.

“I would really appreciate the ride home.” Blaine whispers.

Kurt nods, looking up at Blaine with the same awkward smile as before, “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

-- -- --

Bethany talks the entire way home, for which Blaine is eternally grateful. She rambles on about school and her friends and soccer, and Blaine and Kurt don’t have to speak at all (to her or each other). They do keep glancing sideways at one another and Blaine has a fleeting thought that if this keeps up, his eyes are going to permanently shift sideways. The thought makes him chuckle out of the blue and Kurt sends him a bemused look while Bethany keeps talking. 

When they pull up in front of Blaine and Bethany’s apartment, Blaine silently sighs - relieved. Until…

“Hey Kurt! You should come up and see my new trophies!” Bethany exclaims from the back seat.

Blaine holds his breath while he looks at Bethany and then back at Kurt. He watches as Kurt looks quickly at him before smiling at Bethany and Blaine’s not sure if he wants Kurt to accept or decline.

“Umm, sure, Bethany. If that’s alright?” He directs the question at Blaine, who nods reflexively.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Blaine whispers.

Blaine isn’t sure why he feels like his skin is on fire as Kurt follows them into the building and into the elevator. They settle next to each other and Blaine is acutely aware of Kurt’s body heat next to him. He fidgets and hopes Kurt doesn’t notice but he knows Bethany notices as she keeps shooting him weird looks.

The trio is silent as they make their way into the apartment, but then Bethany is all chatter again as she drags Kurt to her bedroom to show him her soccer trophies. Blaine takes a deep breath when they’re gone. He hadn’t expected to have Kurt in his apartment ever again, and he’s even more confused by his body’s reaction to that fact. He tries to find something to busy himself with, but rearranging the books on the coffee table really isn’t doing anything to help calm his nerves.

Ten minutes later, Kurt and Bethany emerge from her room.

“I asked Kurt to watch a movie with us!” Bethany enthuses, and by Kurt’s bewildered expression, Blaine’s pretty sure it wasn’t so much an ask as it was a demand.

“I’m sure Kurt has other things he needs to be doing tonight.” Blaine tries, even though his heart hammers in his chest betraying what his logical mind is telling him what needs to happen.

Kurt coughs, “No, it’s cool. That would be...cool.”

They settle in to watch The Greatest Showman, Bethany curled up on the chair which leaves Blaine and Kurt to sit together on the couch. They leave a large space between themselves, and Blaine tries hard not to keep looking at the other man.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Bethany yawns with a large stretch, “You know what? I’m pretty tired. I’m going to head to bed. Night Blaine. Night Kurt.” 

And she’s gone.

Blaine watches her go with wide eyes before looking over at Kurt, who is looking at him, and laughing awkwardly. He coughs and shifts, “So, um, you don’t have to stay…”

Kurt blinks at him, “Do you...want me to go?” He says, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. 

Blaine is shocked by how much he doesn’t want Kurt to leave. He shakes his head, “No.” He whispers, colour rising on his own cheeks.

It’s only when Kurt’s fingers curl over Blaine’s that Blaine realizes how close they’ve become. When did that happen?

Chapter Six

Kurt has no idea what he’s doing. He has no idea why he agreed to come up to the apartment. He has no idea why he agreed to stay when Bethany asked (told) him to stay for a movie. He has no idea why he’s currently holding Blaine’s hand.

All he knows is that if Blaine doesn’t kiss him in the next minute, he will spontaneously combust.

-- -- --

Blaine searches Kurt eyes, trying to find the answers to the million plus questions and uncertainties swirling in his own head. He doesn’t find much in ways of answers, but he does find a desire he hasn’t seen in three years (from Kurt or from anyone).

He lunges forward before he can overthink it too much and catches Kurt’s lips in a kiss. He almost immediately feels a push as Kurt growls and kisses back. Blaine feels a rush of heat up his spine at the feeling and sound.

He grabs Kurt’s shirt in both of his fists and thrills at the squeak Kurt makes when he pulls him up to stand. They kiss down the hallway and tumble into Blaine’s bedroom.

Blaine has a fleeting moment to thank a higher power he doesn’t really believe in that he cleaned his room that morning before he’s pushed back onto the bed.

He shuffles backwards as Kurt crawls over him and kissing horizontally is so, so much better.

He tugs Kurt’s shirt over his head and feels Kurt respond in kind. Their lips barely separate either time and as they both fumble for the other’s belt, button, and zipper Kurt kisses along Blaine’s jaw.

Blaine pants at the ceiling as Kurt pushes his pants as far down as he can before Blaine uses his feet to take them the rest of the way off. Kurt’s are gone a moment later. When Kurt lowers himself the only thing separating them are two thin boxers and Blaine realizes this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.

He hasn’t slept with anyone in three years, so he’s a little out of practice, but it’s clear by Kurt’s sure fingers, that this isn’t Kurt’s ‘first time’ in three years.

All conscious thought goes out the window, however, as Kurt pushes inside. Blaine exists only in nerves and low moans. He feels like every bit of him is alive, and when he opens his eyes (that he hadn’t realized he’d closed), he’s hit with an image of Kurt moving above him. It’s this image that carries him over the edge and his vision whites out at the corners as he comes.

Kurt follows a few thrusts later. They rock gently for a few minutes, their heavy breathing the only noise in the room, before Kurt pulls out and flops onto the bed next to Blaine. Blaine rolls his head on the pillow to look at Kurt, eyelashes spread across his cheeks, before his eyes are sliding shut and sleep pulls him under.

-- -- --

Blaine feels the bed shift and grunts awake. He brings a hand to rub his eyes and tries to let them adjust to the dim light of his bedroom. Now that he’s awake he’s not entirely sure what woke him. He squints into the darkness until he hears shuffling to his right and turns to find Kurt pulling on his pants. 

It’s almost completely dark in the room but Kurt’s pale skin seems to glow in the low moonlight streaming in from outside. Blaine blinks as he watches Kurt pull on his pants, “You’re leaving?”

He had whispered it but Kurt still jumps, turning around with his hands at his fly. He chuckles almost self-consciously, “Ummm yeah, I was going to head out.”

Blaine pushes up to sit against the headboard, “You don’t...have too.” He says softly.

He’s not really sure how to act right now. How does one act after sleeping with their ex-boyfriend who they haven’t seen in three years and are still mad at? Not to mention his ex-boyfriend who is maybe seeing someone else?

Kurt almost seems to wince, “It’s probably best. I don’t think Bethany should see me here.”

Bethany. Oh. Right.

Blaine nods, “You’re right.” 

Kurt nods back and the pair stare at each other silently for a few moments. Blaine wishes he could read Kurt’s mind. Does he regret what they did? Is he leaving not only for Bethany’s sake but because he regrets having slept with Blaine?

Does Blaine regret what they did?

“So, I’m just gonna...go.” Kurt says, gesturing toward the door.

Blaine nods again, “Okay.”

Kurt nods (and Blaine is struck by how much nodding is happening between them), before he’s tugging on his shirt over his head and heading to Blaine’s bedroom door, “I’ll talk to you later?” 

Blaine presses his lips together to keep from nodding again, “Yeah.” He says, and then Kurt is gone.

Blaine lets his head fall back against the headboard with a thud. Just when he thought his life couldn’t get more complicated…

-- -- --

Kurt gets as far as the door two down from Blaine’s apartment before he leans against the wall and lets his head hit the plaster with an audible thunk. He closes his eyes and runs a shaky hand over his face.

What the hell did he just do? What the hell did they just do?

Did he want it?

Of course he wanted it.

But they shouldn’t have. 

Right?

Kurt’s head throbs. He’s not sure what to think. It’s not like he hasn’t regretted his break up with Blaine since it happened three years ago, and it’s not like he hasn’t dreamt of that happening over and over again since, it’s just...no, they shouldn’t have done that.

Kurt’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out only to close his eyes at the name on the screen. 

Did he just cheat on Quintin?

Fighting back a wave of nausea, Kurt pockets his phone and marches down the hallway to the elevator. He doesn’t have the energy to think about all of this right now. So he’s going to do what he does best in these situations - avoid...and eat. He’s sure he can convince Finn to go out for breakfast with him. The distraction will be good...

...until he can figure out what the fuck he’s feeling or what the fuck he just did or didn’t do.

-- -- --

Blaine waits in bed for another twenty minutes before getting out of bed. He puts it off as long as possible but he can hear Bethany moving around the apartment and knows he’s got to get her to school and himself to work. Once again, he doesn’t have the luxury to dwell.

He throws on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and his glasses (he has no interest in futzing with his contacts at the moment). He checks his appearance in the mirror and sighs at the riot of curls he finds. He uses his hands to try and tame them but doesn’t have the energy to make any real effort. He sighs again and makes his way out into the living room.

Bethany’s on the couch with a bowl of cereal at her chest. She’s flipping through television channels and only spares Blaine a second’s glance before she looks back at the television, “Morning.” She says, simply.

“Morning.” Blaine says softly, moving to the coffee machine and hitting start. He pulls a mug from the cupboard and then leans his hands on the counter to wait for his coffee to brew.

He’s used to not speaking much in the morning with Bethany. They have an almost silent routine perfected, and while Blaine misses the mornings Bethany would chatter away and ask a million questions, he’s gotten used to her quiet apathy.

“So what time did Kurt leave?” One of Blaine’s hands slips from where he’s leaning against the counter and he has to catch himself quickly before he takes a header into the granite. Once he rights himself he turns to find Bethany watching him with a quirked eyebrow. He coughs and fidgets with his coffee mug.

“Ummm…” He starts. Words, Blaine. Use them. He chides himself.

“I’m...assuming it was after the movie?” Bethany asks, still looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Maybe he has.

Blaine coughs again and nods, “Yeah, yeah. He stayed to finish watching the movie and then went home.” He silently thanks his sister for the out.

Bethany nods, “Cool. It’s cool he’s home.”

Blaine looks over at her, “Yeah?”

Bethany gives him a ‘duh’ face, “Of course. You don’t think so?”

That’s a loaded question if he’s ever heard one. On the one hand, yes. It is ‘cool’ that Kurt is home. Blaine has thought about Kurt a lot over the past three years and has missed him terribly despite being angry with him. But on the other hand, it’s awkward as hell and he went and made it more awkward by sleeping with Kurt. Kurt, who has clearly moved on from him and is dating someone else.

Did Blaine make Kurt cheat on his boyfriend? Blaine feels slightly nauseous at the thought. 

Bethany gives him another incredulous look at his silence and he coughs for a third time and nods, “Yeah, yeah it’s cool.”

Bethany nods slowly before turning back to the television and Blaine counts how many more times he’s going to have to see Kurt while he’s home. Hopefully not many.

Even though his heart clenches at that thought.

Chapter Seven

Blaine’s at work two days later, and as he smiles at the hulking man who just ordered a unicorn frappuccino (he’s not here to judge people) and gestures to his left for the man to pick up his drink, he turns to his next customer to find one Burt Hummel approaching.

Blaine swallows thickly. Burt’s never come to his work before, and while under normal circumstances this would be a welcome visit, Blaine is suddenly bombarded with images of Kurt in his bed and he is instantly fidgety. It doesn’t help that Burt looks...angry?

“Hey!” Blaine says, overly bright.

Burt lifts an eyebrow, “Hey. Can we talk? Do you have a break soon?”

Blaine nods, again trying not to let images of Kurt asking him a similar question last week come into his brain, “Yeah, just let me tell my boss. Do you want something to drink?”

Burt looks up at the board above Blaine’s head with a scowl, “I’ve never understood the need for all these crazy drinks.” He mumbles.

Blaine laughs softly, “I can get you a regular drip?”

Burt nods and smiles for the first time since the conversation started, “If you could add some grease fumes in there, it would taste like normal.” He winks as Blaine chuckles and then moves to find a seat while Blaine goes to make his drink and inform Lauren he’s taking a break.

-- -- --

“So, what’s up?” Blaine asks, trying for nonchalance as he sets a cup of black coffee in front of Burt, sits down opposite him and takes a sip of his own.

Burt picks up his cup and nods in thanks before sighing. He’s quiet for a moment and Blaine’s about to ask what’s wrong before Burt leans forward, brings his hand up, and lightly smacks the back of Blaine’s head.

“Ow!” Blaine exclaims even though it didn’t really hurt. He brings a hand up to the spot anyway and rubs as he gives Burt an incredulous look, “What was that for?”

“That was for whatever happened that made my son creep into my house at 5 am the other morning looking like he’d done a lot more than sleep in another bed.” Burt says pointedly.

Blaine’s cheeks flare red and he looks down at the floor. Oh.

Burt sighs, “Have you at least talked to him since?”

Blaine shakes his head. Despite agreeing with Kurt that he’d ‘talk to him later’, he hadn’t really thought ‘later’ would come.

Burt shakes his head, “You are both idiots.” There’s affection in his voice but Blaine still feels chastised.

He sits up a little straighter, “Why did you come to me about this? Did you talk to Kurt?”

Burt rolls his eyes, “I love my son but Kurt is so deep into avoidance, I’m sure he’d deny even knowing who you are at this point. I thought I’d have a better shot talking some sense into you.”

Blaine shifts, awkwardly, “I really think you should talk to your son.”

Burt lifts his eyebrows, “I am.” Blaine does a double take and Burt sighs, “When are you going to get it, Blaine? You’re my son. I care. I want the best for you. Including making you talk to my other son about...whatever is going on between you two.”

Blaine swallows and then lets a smile take over his face before trying to stifle it into his coffee cup. He sees Burt smirk and figures he didn’t hide his smile fast enough. He finds he’s okay with that.

The pair is quiet for a moment before Burt raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, “So...you gonna talk to Kurt?”

Blaine lets out a breath and sighs, “I’ll talk to Kurt.” He concedes, “Or...I’ll try.” He amends, and Burt nods knowingly, patting Blaine on the knee.

-- -- --

Blaine puts his talk with Kurt off until Friday. He’d actually like to blame indecision and nerves, but the truth is his life sort of blew up in the intervening five days. 

A colleague at work quit suddenly so Blaine has worked more hours this week than he hasn’t. Because he’s been at work so much, Bethany had to spend a lot of the week doing homework at the coffee shop (complete with snarky comments and glares because she couldn’t be at home). Blaine’s also had two essays due (one of which he had to beg for an extension on) and a midterm exam (which he had to ask to take after the class because he’d been at work during class). 

He hasn’t slept more than three hours at night for the past five nights and he’s had a headache for almost a complete day. Talking to Kurt had kind of fallen to the backburner. But it’s now Friday and as he and Bethany make their way to Burt and Carole’s for dinner, Blaine knows he’ll have to talk to Kurt tonight...and it’s now that indecision and nerves rear their ugly heads.

When he and Bethany get to the Hummel-Hudson’s, the only person there is Kurt. Of course. Blaine feels like the universe is just laughing at him at this point.

“Where is everyone?” Bethany asks as she makes herself at home on the couch.

“Dad and Finn got stuck at the garage. They should be home soon. Carole’s at the grocery store.” Kurt answers, softly, rubbing a hand up and down his arm as he looks at Bethany. He hasn’t looked at Blaine since they entered the house.

Blaine figures this is his moment to talk to Kurt, but his sluggish, over-tired, overworked, and nervous brain takes a second to get there. He blinks, owlishy, before looking up at Kurt, “Can we talk?”

Kurt startles and looks over. Blaine can see Bethany looking at him with wide eyes.

Kurt shifts awkwardly and looks for a moment like he’s going to refuse. But instead, he gives a jerky nod and then gestures out of the room. Blaine takes a deep breath before moving into the kitchen. He’s not exactly sure what he’s going to say but he knows he has to say something.

-- -- --

Kurt hesitates before following Blaine. He looks over at Bethany who quickly turns back to the television like she hadn’t been watching them. He swallows, turning to make his way down the hall toward the kitchen, and feels his chest tightening to the point where he has to bring a hand up to massage it to soothe the ache.

He furrows his brow as he tries to make sense of the feeling, and then it hits him. It’s his body’s reaction to seeing Blaine again. This has happened every time he’s seen or even heard Blaine’s name lately.

Maybe it’s hurt, or anger, or any number of negative feelings, but...maybe it’s not negative at all. He realizes with startling clarity that he hasn’t felt this feeling in almost three years. It’s as if his heart is literally trying to pop out of his chest and go to Blaine. It’s drawn to Blaine in a way it hasn’t been toward any other guy Kurt has dated since their breakup.

And as Kurt enters the kitchen to find Blaine sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the table top with a blank expression, he realizes just how much he wants Blaine back in his life. But does Blaine want him in his…?

-- -- --

Blaine hears more than sees Kurt enter the kitchen. He keeps his eyes trained on the table top (he’s not 100% sure he has the energy to look up even if he wanted to). He sees from his peripheral vision as Kurt settles slowly into a seat across from him. He’s moving slowly as if approaching a wild animal, and for some reason, Blaine finds this hilarious.

He’s laughing before he even really realizes it and when he finally looks up at Kurt, Kurt’s eyes are wide and his hands are frozen on the table in front of him.

Blaine keeps laughing, to the point where tears slide down his cheeks and he’s sure Kurt is close to calling 911 at his apparent hysteria. Blaine’s not sure where this is coming from, he’s not feeling jovial, but he is feeling...

“I am so done.” He says as his laughter peters out. Kurt eyes him warily. Blaine sighs as he runs a hand under his eyes to catch the few remaining tears clinging there, “I have been so...angry the last three years and now you’re here and we slept together and you’re with someone and my life is falling apart and I’m just so. Done.” He shrugs, “I don’t have it in me to be angry with you anymore. I just don’t.”

He definitely hadn’t meant to say any of that, but now that he has, he feels lighter somehow. He looks over at Kurt who is still looking at him warily and shrugs again, not really sure where to go from here.

Kurt is quiet for another moment before coughing, “Quintin and I aren’t exclusive.”

This makes Blaine laugh again, “Well, I guess that takes one thing off my list.”

Kurt swallows, “Do you regret...sleeping together?”

Blaine is taken aback by the question. Maybe not because of its content but because of Kurt’s demeanor. Kurt looks vulnerable. Blaine realizes he’s never seen Kurt this way. Not three years ago and definitely not any of the times he’s seen him in the last couple of weeks. 

Blaine furrows his eyebrows, “No.” He answers, honestly, and he sees Kurt take a deep breath and then let it out with a nod, “Do you?”

Kurt shakes his head and looks into Blaine’s eyes, “No.”

Blaine nods, pressing his lips together, “Look,” He says with another heavy sigh, “My life is extremely complicated right now, and while I’m not angry anymore,” He shakes his head, “I don’t think I have it in me to be anything other than friends.”

Kurt swallows thickly and nods, “Of course. That makes sense.” He says, “Besides...I am kinda seeing someone.”

Blaine nods and ignores the way his heart tugs at the reminder. He really doesn’t have it in him to date anyone. And besides, Kurt clearly doesn’t want to fall back into a relationship with him either.

Friends though. Friends he can do. He wasn’t lying when he said he was done being angry. He wants Kurt’s friendship. He wants to be able to talk to him and lean on him and have him part of his, and Bethany’s, life again.

The pair smile across the table at one another - a calm, comfortableness has settled between them that hasn’t been there for three years. It’s...nice.

“So was ‘us’ the only thing bothering you? Or do you want to tell me what has you looking like you haven’t slept in days?” Kurt asks with a smirk after a few more moments of silence.

Blaine chuckles, “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” Kurt whispers softly and Blaine looks at him with tired eyes before nodding and venting to Kurt about his week until Burt and Carole come home.

Chapter Eight

Blaine’s life gets no less complicated as the week goes by, but he starts to trust Burt, and now that Kurt is back in his life, he begins to lean on them more and more.

He can’t put into words what it feels like to be able to talk to and confide in Kurt again. They see each other almost every day, usually because Kurt comes by the coffee shop while Blaine is working, and it feels like it did back when they first got together...complete with the flirting, which Blaine has to admit is amazing, if not confusing.

“You are a master whip creamer, did you know that?” Kurt says a week later while leaning his elbows on the counter at the coffee shop and Blaine uses a rag to wipe the counter after handing a drink to a woman on the other side.

Blaine chuckles, “Well, I did go to creamer school.” He turns and winks in the other man’s direction.

He notices Kurt’s eyes widen a little and colour rise in his cheeks ever so slightly. Blaine immediately chastises himself. He was the one who said they should be friends and he goes and winks at him? Idiot.

Kurt swallows and seems to shake himself out of his thoughts a moment later, “Well,” He says with a smile, “I’m sure you were top of your class.”

Blaine feels himself go warm, “It’s nothing compared to your famous buttercream flowers.” Blaine remembers the flowers Kurt created for Bethany’s birthday cake while they were together, they were magnificent.

Kurt puts a hand to his chest and affects a fake snooty expression, “You shouldn’t compare yourself to perfection.”

Blaine laughs at this and Kurt breaks his character to laugh back. They smile stupidly at each other for a moment longer before another customer comes to the counter.

Blaine shrugs apologetically before going to take the girl’s order. He can see Kurt out of the corner of his eye push up from the counter and look around briefly before letting his eyes settle back on Blaine. Blaine feels the weight of his stare and tries not to fidget under it.

They’re friends. They’re being friendly. They aren’t together and nor will they probably ever be together. Friends.

Blaine lets himself into his apartment later that night with a happy sigh. Kurt had hung around for most of his shift and he isn’t above saying he loved that.

“Blaine!” He hears called from the living room and sighs for a different reason. He shouldn’t have to brace himself to see his sister.

“What’s up?” He asks walking into the room. Bethany is sitting on the couch with a blanket around her despite the June warmth. Her long straight hair is pulled into two messy buns on the sides of her head. Blaine’s not sure if it’s her look or the fact that she just successfully survived an hour alone after being dropped off after soccer practice, but she seems...older. He’s momentarily taken aback by that thought.

She smiles at him. Wait. Smiles?

“I thought we could do that puzzle I got you for your birthday!” Bethany says.

Blaine almost does a double take. Who is this girl? She’s happy and she’s willingly offering to spend time with him doing an activity she doesn’t like...where did his bratty sister go?

His skepticism must show on his face because Bethany looks at him oddly, “What? Do I have something on my face?” She asks, self-consciously bringing a hand up to her face.

Blaine shakes himself out of it, “No, no. I’m just...tired. But doing that puzzle sounds great.”

Bethany smiles and nods, lifting off the top of the box as Blaine sits down next to her.

The pair spend a good two hours working on the elephant puzzle, laughing and talking. Blaine finds his chest expanding with happiness, and hope. How could it be that he fixes things with Kurt AND Bethany in the same week? He’s not that lucky. But as Bethany playfully punches him, laughing, for stealing a puzzle piece she was about to put in and putting it in himself, he can’t help but...hope.

-- -- --

Blaine is putting the last dish away when there’s a knock at the door. He pouts thoughtfully in its direction, wondering who it could be. 

It’s almost midnight and Blaine has been alone since ten when Bethany had gone to bed. The final shock of their evening together had been when she’d hugged him around the neck and kissed his cheek before she left for her bedroom. Blaine is still confused by it, but incredibly grateful for her good mood. After she’d gone to bed Blaine had studied for a while before cleaning the kitchen.

He makes his way to the door, checking the clock to confirm that it is as late as he thinks it is. The clock blinks 11:49 back at him and he wonders if perhaps one of his neighbours is having an emergency.

There’s another knock on the door before Blaine can get to it and he pulls it open to find Kurt on the other side - his hand raised for the knock and his eyes wide.

“Oh!” Kurt says breathlessly, “I...thought you were asleep.”

Blaine is aware of Kurt’s gaze taking in his jeans and sweater, and lack of pajamas, and curses his body for heating up at the look.

“I was just cleaning the kitchen.” Blaine whispers, something about the late hour making it feel like whispering is required. Kurt nods but isn’t forthcoming with any more words, “Not that I’m not happy to see you but...how’d you get in without the buzzer?”

Kurt chuckles lightly, “You have very accomodating neighbours.”

Blaine nods in response. Kurt looks...nervous. He keeps fidgeting with the bag over his shoulder and looking down the hall as if expecting someone to come drag him away.

“Is everything okay?” Blaine asks.

Kurt’s eyes snap back to Blaine and they are momentarily quiet, Blaine’s question forgotten, as they stare at each other. Eventually Kurt shakes his head and smiles, “Yeah, everything’s fine I just...brought something and I thought we could…” He trails off and looks down the hall again.

Blaine’s brow furrows, looking down at Kurt’s bag, “Brought what and thought we could what?”

Kurt looks back at Blaine and Blaine notices a small smile brighten Kurt’s nervous face before Kurt pinches his lips together to try and quell it. The other man reaches into the bag at his hip and pulls out a red container.

Blaine tilts his head curiously before laughing, “Whipped cream?” He asks.

Kurt lifts his eyebrows, “I thought we could…”

Blaine’s laughter dies away and he looks curiously at Kurt before he catches on, “Oh!” He says, eyes wide.

Kurt shrugs, “I mean, I know we’re friends but there’s nothing in the rulebook that says friends can’t…”

Blaine should say no. No good can come from this...okay maybe *some* good can come from this. But they’re friends. This will only complicate things...but then Kurt bites his lip and looks coyly at Blaine, and Blaine is done for.

He reaches forward and pulls Kurt in by the front of his shirt. Kurt squeaks at the movement as Blaine pushes the door closed and kisses Kurt against it.

-- -- --

Blaine runs a finger over his stomach and laughs softly at the sticky residue there. He’s lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, and sighs as he sucks the sweetness, absently, off his finger.

“I think your whipped cream skills beat my flower skills.” Kurt sighs next to him.

Blaine smiles and looks over. Kurt is all long, smooth pale skin, ruffled hair and pink cheeks. He looks amazing and all Blaine can do is stare.

Kurt is leaning against the headboard and turns to look at Blaine with a lazy smile, “We make really good friends.”

Blaine chuckles at this before bringing his arm up to rest behind his head, “Do you think we should set up some...ground rules for this? If this is something that’s going to happen..regularly?” He’s not sure Kurt wants it to happen regularly. Blaine’s not sure if he himself wants it to be regular. 

Kurt looks thoughtful, “Probably.” He agrees. He shifts to sit cross-legged facing Blaine, Blaine’s sheet over his lap, “Okay first, no sleepovers.”

Blaine nods, that makes sense, “And we can’t tell Bethany.” He adds.

Kurt nods, “I’d say we can’t tell my dad either, but I have a feeling it will be hard to keep from him.” Blaine shrugs and nods, “But I won’t actively try to tell him.” Blaine nods again. Kurt bites his lip, “We should probably agree that this ends when I go home?”

Home. Blaine takes a deep breath at the thought. Kurt doesn’t consider Ohio home anymore, which makes sense in a way, but something about the thought makes Blaine sad. Blaine is in Ohio and probably always will be. If Kurt doesn’t consider Ohio home anymore...any flicker of hope Blaine might have had for their relationship fizzles out. This is all he’ll ever get. And it’ll last…

“When do you go back?” Blaine asks.

Kurt licks his lips, “Two weeks.”

Blaine nods and looks back up at the ceiling. Two weeks. He’ll get two weeks and then Kurt will be back in New York with his life and his boyfriend, and Blaine will be here. Can he do this?

He shifts to look back at Kurt, “And you’re okay with doing this with your…” He can’t say it outloud, “back in New York.”

Kurt seems to understand what, or rather who, he’s talking about, “We aren’t exclusive.” He reiterates and Blaine nods, “I guess I should have asked, but do you...have...someone?”

Blaine wants to laugh at the question. Someone. He hasn’t had someone since Kurt. In any way, shape, or form. 

He simply shakes his head and Kurt seems to let out a breath before nodding, “So, no sleepovers. No actively telling the people in our lives,  and it ends in two weeks. Anything else?”

Blaine wants to tell Kurt he can’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. He hasn’t decided yet if he *can* do this but he’s already pretty sure this is going to end badly for him. But then he looks at Kurt, beautiful, first - and so far only - love of his life Kurt, and he decides he’ll take what he can get. He never stopped loving Kurt. 

He just wishes Kurt hadn’t stopped loving him.

Blaine shakes his head, “I think that’s good for now.” He whispers.

Kurt nods and smiles, “All right. That works for me too.” His smile changes from happy to coy, “So I know I’m not sleeping over but...one more round?”

He’s taking what he’s offered and he’s not going to think about what happens in two weeks. He can do casual. He has to do casual if he wants this from Kurt.

He licks his lips and props himself up on his elbow, running a hand along Kurt’s thigh before tugging the sheet off his lap. Kurt’s smile grows as he stretches out to kiss Blaine back onto the bed and rolls on top of him.

Chapter Nine

Friends with benefits.

It’s not an arrangement Blaine ever thought he’d find himself in, but then again he didn’t think at fifteen he’d be the sole guardian of his seven-year-old sister. Life throws you curveballs and you either take a swing at them or get hit by them, and Blaine’s been hit by enough curveballs in the last three years that he’s decided to take a swing at this one.

Falling back into a sexual relationship with Kurt is incredibly easy. They fit together, they move well together, and chemistry has never been a problem with them. Most of their interactions now end with a panting, post-orgasmic, jumbles of limbs. And while Blaine had forgotten how exhausting frequent sex can be, he can’t deny how satisfying it is.

But then, Kurt will get up and get his clothes on. He’ll tweak one of Blaine’s toes playfully under the blanket. And then he’ll be gone (most of their trysts take place at Blaine’s house because it’s easier to hide them from Bethany than it is Burt).

It’s not that they don’t talk. Kurt still comes to hang out at the coffee shop for almost every one of Blaine’s shifts, and Blaine and Bethany still go over for Friday night dinner, but it’s all surface stuff. They talk about school, work, and family mostly. And they flirt. But it doesn’t feel like it did before. When they were dating. When they were potentially the most important people in each other’s lives. And they definitely don’t talk about why they are no longer a couple.

There’s a distance now that places them squarely in the ‘friends with benefits’ category but that also makes the whole arrangement a little less satisfying.

“How long do we have before Bethany gets dropped off from her study group?” Kurt asks on a Friday, a little over a week after they began this arrangement, already peeling Blaine out of his shirt.

“About an hour.” Blaine pants as he works on Kurt’s belt.

Kurt smirks, “Perfect.” He says. He pushes Blaine backwards and Blaine falls, bouncing on the bed. He waits for Kurt to crawl over him like he always does (like Blaine loves when he does) and isn’t disappointed after Kurt removes his own pants.

“Hey, do you want to just hang out after and you, me, and Bethany can head to your parent’s together?” Blaine asks, smoothing a hand up Kurt’s thigh.

Kurt kisses along Blaine’s throat, “Okay two things. One - never bring up Bethany or my parents while either of us has an erection.” Blaine chuckles lowly, “And two - sure.”

Blaine hums into the next kiss and surrenders to whatever Kurt wants.

They’re sitting on the couch watching TV an hour (and two orgasms) later, when Bethany gets home.

“Hey, so I asked Carole if I could stay over tonight and she said yes.” Bethany says as she makes her way into the apartment. She looks over at the couch and does a double take before smiling brightly, “Kurt!” She squeals, running over to hug him.

Kurt laughs, “Hey Annie. Good study group?”

Bethany shrugs and sits between the pair, “It was all right.” She looks at Blaine, “So can I stay over at Carole and Burt’s tonight?”

Blaine smiles at her and then looks over her head at Kurt who is looking at him with an eyebrow raised. With Bethany at Burt and Carole’s for the night, he and Kurt wouldn’t have to be quiet or sneaky…

“Sure, Annie.” He says, still looking at Kurt, who winks at him.

Bethany claps excitedly and then reaches for the remote, uncaring of what the boys were watching, to change the channel to MTV. Blaine doesn’t really notice, and he’s sure Kurt doesn’t either, as they continue to look at each other and think about all the possibilities for the night ahead.

-- -- --

“Hey Carole?” Bethany asks later that night as she and Carole sit playing crazy eights after Burt has gone to bed.

Carole ‘hmmm’s in response as she surveys her cards and the card currently on the table.

“How do you know you’re in a relationship?” Bethany asks.

Carole looks up from the table, back down at the table, and then up again sharply. She laughs softly, “Ummm why do you ask?”

Bethany shrugs, “Just curious.”

Carole looks at her for a moment before sighing, “Well, the easiest way to know you’re in a relationship is to talk about it. Ask questions. Communicate.”

Bethany nods, thoughtfully, “But what if there isn’t talking? Can you tell in other ways?”

Carole looks curiously at her, “I mean, I guess. But...why do you want to know?” She looks at Bethany with lifted brows, “Do you like someone at school?”

Bethany instantly recoils, “Ew. No. Every boy at my school is gross and immature.” She says.

Carole chuckles with a nod but then looks curious again, “Then I’m a little confused, sweetheart, about why you want to know about being in a relationship.”

Bethany sighs and wonders if she should mention anything. She hadn’t planned on saying anything, she was just...curious. She finally decides to just ask, “Are Kurt and my brother dating?” 

Carole’s eyes widen in surprise, “I...don’t know. What makes you ask?”

Bethany sighs again, “Well, they’re spending so much time together and they’re always smiling and...I don’t know.”

Carole smiles, “Bethany, adult relationships can be complicated. They aren’t always so straightforward. Blaine and Kurt may be seeing each other again or they may just be friends. Unless you ask one of them, I don’t think you’re going to get a clear answer.”

Bethany slumps, “Oh. They could be just friends?”

Carole tilts her head, “That would make you sad?”

Bethany shakes her head, “No. I mean...I don’t know.” She shrugs

Carole reaches across the table and lays a hand on Bethany’s, “My suggestion is you talk to your brother if you’re really curious. From what I’ve seen, he and Kurt have been getting a lot closer lately but that doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

“I just…” Bethany shakes her head again, not really wanting to share her true thoughts.

Carole sighs, “If it makes you feel any better, boys can sometimes be very oblivious and not really understand what’s going on even in their own relationships. And in that relationship? You have two boys.” 

Bethany giggles, “So you’re saying...boys are dumb?”

Carole laughs and pats Bethany’s hand, “Most of the time, yes. But don’t tell Burt, Finn, Kurt, or your brother that I said that.” She winks.

-- -- --

Blaine comes awake slowly to light streaming through the crack in the curtains and landing on his face. He blinks and shifts to get out of its path and stretches leisurely and notices how certain muscles twinge with the effort. He and Kurt had gotten a little...enthusiastic last night with the privacy.

He smiles into his pillow at the memory until he hears and feels movement beside him. The smile freezes on his face as Kurt grunts and shifts.

Rule number one had been no sleepovers.

“Mmmmm morning.” Kurt hums, sounding half asleep still, and Blaine feels his arms come around his waist. Blaine tries not to let Kurt’s gravelly voice and languid movements affect him.

“Kurt?” He asks. Kurt hums behind him, “It’s morning.”

It takes Kurt a second to get it, but Blaine can feel him tense when he does, “Oh.” He says into Blaine’s ear.

Blaine grimaces, “Yeah. I guess we...broke the rule.”

Blaine tries not to feel bereft when Kurt’s arm pulls back and he hears the other man shift again. He rolls around to find Kurt sitting on the edge of the bed, his straight back to Blaine.

“Sorry.” Kurt mumbles.

Blaine blinks, “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

Kurt is silent for a moment before he reaches for his pants and starts pulling them on, “No, but it’s my fault. I fell asleep. I should have left...after. I’ll go now.”

Blaine sighs, he’s not sure where this strange energy is coming from, “You don’t have to. We could...have breakfast?”

Kurt gets up to do his pants up and turns to Blaine with a haughty expression, “Breakfast together? Don’t you think we’ve already crossed a line here? I think a little damage control is in order.”

Blaine feels a sinking sense of dread. He feels whatever small piece of Kurt he had slipping away. All because they fell asleep and he suggested they eat something?

“I gotta go.” Kurt says, tugging on his shirt.

Blaine’s about to stutter out some more words when the door of the apartment opens with a loud creak, “Hey Blaine!” Bethany calls into the apartment, “Carole dropped me off! I thought we could go to the mall together!”

Blaine looks at Kurt with wide eyes to find the other man looking at the door to the bedroom with equally wide eyes. There is no way this isn’t going to end in Bethany finding out something is going on. There is no story to spin that will make this look any better.

“Blaine?” She calls when there is no response, “You better not be sleeping, you lazy bum!” The insult is said with affection and Blaine has just enough time to feel joy over the easy way she teases him before panic sets in. She’s more than likely on her way to his room.

Kurt seems to figure this out a second after he does and his head snaps to the closet door just as the door to Blaine’s bedroom opens and they are officially out of time.

“Wake up, Bl…” The rest of his name dies on his sister’s lips as her eyes widen at the scene in front of her. Kurt is fully dressed beside the bed but his hair is a riot of bedhead and Blaine is still very much naked under the sheets.

“Bethany.” He says and her eyes land on him, “Can we have a moment?” He grimaces.

Bethany looks back and forth between them before nodding and moving to leave. As she closes the door, Blaine’s pretty sure he can see her smiling and he furrows his brow at that before Kurt is moving once again.

“Well, this is just great.” Kurt mumbles as he picks up his socks and tugs one on.

“I’ll talk to her.” Blaine says and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, do that.” He says.

Blaine can understand Kurt being upset that Bethany saw what she saw, but the anger is confusing him.

Kurt straightens after putting on his other sock and pauses as he looks at Blaine, confused on the bed, “Bye.” He says shortly.

Blaine can do nothing but nod as Kurt makes his way out of the room and then out of the apartment, if he passes Bethany on the way out Blaine can’t hear any acknowledgement between the pair.

Blaine sighs and looks down at the sheets on his lap for a moment. He knows he has to go talk to Bethany but he’s not above saying he’s okay to stall as long as possible.

Eventually he figures if he doesn’t get up she’ll come looking for him so he makes his way out of bed and throws on some sweats. He’s not ready to talk to her but he figures he owes her an explanation.

-- -- --

Kurt makes it as far as the elevator before his legs won’t hold him up anymore. He hits the button for the lobby and then leans against the wall, sliding down until he’s sitting with his knees to his chest. He runs a hand down his face and then both hands through his messy hair.

What is he doing? What are they doing?

He feels like he can’t breath. He has spent the past two weeks pretending he’s not still head over heels in love with Blaine and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up the act.

When he woke up next to Blaine this morning he had felt the most amazing sense of calm. It had felt right. It had felt like it used to. And then Blaine had mentioned that they broke the rules and Kurt was reminded that Blaine will never again see him that way.

He’d set the no sleepover rule to protect himself and apparently for good reason. The first time they slip up, the first thing Blaine does is point it out, and then Bethany. God, Bethany had shown up and Kurt had wanted to throw up.

He has no idea what Blaine is going to say to Bethany but Kurt hadn’t wanted anyone to know because then they’d ask questions Kurt either couldn’t answer or couldn’t answer honestly. And for it to be Bethany of all people…

The elevator dings to indicate he’s reached the lobby. He’s peripherally glad no one had come into the elevator to witness his mini-meltdown and he gets up from the floor to walk out of the building.

He’s halfway to his car when his phone rings in his back pocket. He wonders, and hopes, briefly that it’s Blaine - asking him to come back so they can talk to Bethany together. But it’s not. It’s Quintin.

Kurt runs a hand over his mouth again and answers, “Hey.” He says with a shaky exhale.

“Hey you!” Quintin enthuses on the other end and Kurt feels a spike through his stomach. Quintin is so nice, and Kurt hasn’t even thought about him in a week.

“How’s it going?” Kurt asks as he continues his way to his car. He puts a hand to his stomach to try and quell his queasiness.

“Not bad. Just thought I’d see how being at home was going for you! I haven’t heard from you in a bit, must be busy and fun!” Quintin says.

Kurt swallows as he pulls open the door to his car and gets in. He leans his head against the headrest and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, it’s been...good.” He says with another swallow.

Quintin pauses, “That sounds like the opposite of good.”

Kurt closes his eyes, “Look, Quintin, we’ve got to talk.”

-- -- --

Blaine slowly makes his way out of his bedroom and peeks into the living room where Bethany is sitting on the couch. He coughs to announce his presence and Bethany turns to him with a smile.

Blaine’s still not used to the smiles she so freely gives him lately, but this one seems particularly strange considering the circumstances.

“So…” He starts and then pauses.

“You and Kurt are back together!” Bethany shouts, even going as far as to put her hands up in a celebratory gesture.

Blaine chokes on his spit, “Ummmm no. No, we’re not.”

Bethany’s jubilant energy fades and her arms come down as her face crumbles into confusion, “You’re...not?” She asks.

Blaine sighs and makes his way over to sit on the couch, “We aren’t dating, Bethany. We’re just...friends.” He’s not even sure they’re that anymore though.

Bethany gives him an incredulous look, “Carole was right, boys *are* dumb.”

Blaine’s eyes widen in surprise before he sighs again, “Kurt and I are just friends. And in a week when he goes back to New York, we won’t see him much anymore.”

Blaine almost doesn’t get the words out. It’s a struggle to pull them from his vocal chords and his mouth tastes awful afterwards. Nothing about Kurt going back to New York, and leaving Blaine here in Ohio, makes him feel good right now.

Bethany looks at Blaine and then pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. It looks to Blaine like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.

“So when that happens,” She pauses and pushes some of her hair over her shoulder before continuing, “Are you going to go back to being sad?”

Blaine’s brow furrows, “What do you mean?”

Bethany gives him a sad smile, “I may be twelve but I’m not stupid. You’ve been...sad. For a long time. Ever since Kurt left the first time.”

Blaine blinks. He thought he’d hidden his sadness from his sister. He thought he’d kept that part of himself from her, thought it was his job to make sure she didn’t see it, and it turns out she had all along.

“I’m not sad.” He defends even though he knows it’s useless.

Bethany rolls her eyes, “I told you I’m not dumb, Blaine.”

And suddenly, things become a lot clearer to Blaine, “Is that why you’ve been so mad at me?”

Bethany huffs and smacks the couch next to her, “I just want you to be happy!” She yells, “You’re my brother. I love you so much and I just want you to be happy and you haven’t been and that’s made me angry. Just...be happy, damnit!”

Blaine is taken aback by the outburst. His first thought is to reprimand her for her language, but the scolding dies on his lips at her hard expression, as if she’s challenging him to try and reprimand her at the moment. So, instead, he thinks about the content of her speech.

Her anger toward him was because she could see how sad he was and didn’t know how to make it better. She just wanted him to be happy and he couldn’t do that for her. He’d let her down and that had made her angry.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathes, feeling out of breath as tears form in his eyes.

Bethany pulls her top lip in and looks at him with a pained expression, “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be happy.”

Blaine, honestly, doesn’t know how to do that. He’s been so focused on Bethany for the past three years, doing everything he could to make sure she was okay and taken care of, that he’s forgotten how to make himself happy. He’s been working, going to school, and taking care of Bethany since Kurt left the first time. He didn’t have time or energy to make friends let alone date. He’s been...stuck.

“And when Kurt came back and you started to hang out more you were starting to be like my old Blaine. But now I’m afraid you’re going to go back to being sad and I don’t want to be mad at you anymore.” Bethany continues and Blaine realizes she’s crying at the same time he realizes tears have begun to fall down his own cheeks. 

Blaine is speechless. He literally doesn’t know what to say. He feels like the worst caregiver and human ever at this moment, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

He spends a few moments opening and closing his mouth like a fish before Bethany lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. She shuffles over so she’s sitting next to him and buries her face in his shoulder.

Blaine brings his arms up and circles them around her waist. He holds on as she cries into his shoulder and tries to think of what to say to make this better.

Chapter Ten

“More car trouble?” Burt asks, the next day, as Blaine makes his way into the garage where the older man is rearranging some tools.

Blaine smiles, sadly, and shakes his head as he hands Burt the coffee he brought for him. Burt accepts it with a nod of thanks and Blaine shoves his now free hand into his shorts pocket, “No. I came to talk.”

Burt nods, “I’m always available for that.” He says and gestures for Blaine to follow him back to the office.

Blaine follows slowly, looking around at the idle cars in varying stages of repair around him. He’s not one for vague metaphors but he’s suddenly hit with the fact that he’s like one of the cars in Burt’s garage. He just wonders in what stage of repair he’s in.

He chuckles at his own thoughts and Burt looks at him with a cocked head, “Just thought of something funny.” Blaine explains and Burt ‘ah’s as they sit across from each other in the small room.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Burt asks.

“Have you talked to Kurt?” Blaine asks.

“Not since he came home from your place yesterday.” Blaine looks over at Burt sharply. Burt sighs, “Of course I know.” Burt answers his unspoken question, “But I have a feeling your talk wasn’t as clarifying as it could have been?”

Blaine runs a hand over his face, “I don’t even know anymore, but that’s not really what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Burt shifts in his seat and nods, “Shoot.”

Blaine sighs, “Bethany and I had a talk yesterday and…” He sighs again, “I think I may be depressed?” Burt’s eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t say anything so Blaine continues, “She kept saying how sad I was, and I mean yeah I’ve been stressed since I was fifteen, hell even before I was fifteen, but these past three years have felt...different. I feel like I don’t have anything in my life, and I have no friends, and then Kurt came back and that whole thing happened and…” He can feel himself breathing faster and his heartbeat pick up in his chest.

Burt holds up a hand and it quiets Blaine’s speech, but not his heart rate, “Okay, slow down. Breathe.” Burt soothes and Blaine does just that. He takes a slow breath in and then out, and then in and out again. The pair is quiet for a minute or two as Blaine breathes, and slowly his heart starts to slow back to normal, “Good.” Burt finally says when he can see that Blaine has calmed, “Keep breathing.” He encourages. Blaine nods, “Now, I hear you and I understand.” Blaine nods again, “Have you ever thought about talking to someone?”

Blaine pauses. The thought had honestly never crossed his mind. His responsibility had been Bethany. His needs had always taken a back seat.

“You can’t take care of Bethany unless you’re taking care of yourself.” Burt says softly, “And I am here for you, and Carole is here for you. Hell, even Finn is here for you.” Blaine chuckles softly and Burt smiles, “But maybe talking to someone who is trained to help might be good?”

Blaine nods. That actually sounds like a really good idea and the reminder that Blaine has a support system makes him breathe a little easier.

Burt scrunches his nose slightly in a gesture of unease, “Now I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say next, and I’m no professional but…”

“You think I should stop sleeping with Kurt.” Blaine says bluntly.

“Bingo.” Burt sighs, “At least for right now. You need to get yourself sorted before you’re ready to be with someone else.”

Blaine nods again. He knows Burt’s right. He just wishes it didn’t feel like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

-- -- --

He calls in sick to work on Monday, and after dropping Bethany off at a friend’s house, he drives to Burt and Carole’s, hoping Kurt will be the only one home.

When he pulls into the driveway he’s thankful to find only Kurt’s car there and he takes a deep breath as he makes his way to the front door.

He hesitates only a moment before knocking and it doesn’t take long for Kurt to answer. He’s wearing tight black jeans and a soft long sleeved shirt and Blaine hates how amazingly beautiful he looks with his hair flopping over his forehead.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hey.” Kurt answers, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, “Come in.” He says, gesturing into the house with his head.

Blaine follows him in and they silently make their way into the living room. Kurt sits down on the sofa while Blaine takes the chair and they fidget with their hands in their laps for a minute before Blaine sighs and figures he’ll start the conversation.

“I talked to Bethany.” He says.

“I broke up with Quintin.” Kurt answers and Blaine’s eyes widen at the admission. Kurt swallows and smoothes his hands down his thighs, “I didn’t mean to just blurt that out but...there it is.”

Blaine licks his lips and blinks, “When?” He asks for lack of anything better.

Kurt scrunches an eye shut, “After leaving your place on Saturday.” He answers.

Blaine nods and while this information shouldn’t change what he’s come here to say, it does make his heart speed up and his chest inflate with a hope he shouldn’t feel.

“But you obviously came here to say something and I just derailed the conversation so...back to you. You talked to Bethany?” Kurt asks.

Blaine takes a deep breath and nods, remembering what he wanted to say, “Yeah, I did. She...thought we were together.” He says, looking over at Kurt to see the other man inhale sharply, “I told her we weren’t.” He continues and watches as Kurt’s face becomes pained, “But we started talking about our relationship, Bethany’s and mine, and...I’ve got some stuff to fix.”

Kurt cocks his head curiously and Blaine gets a flash of Burt doing the same thing yesterday, noting briefly how similar father and son really are.

“I made some calls and I’m going to start seeing a therapist this week.” Kurt purses his lips in interest but let’s Blaine continue, “I think I’ve been so focussed on Bethany these past few years that I forgot how to take care of myself? And as it turns out, that was one of the main things hurting our relationship. I need some help figuring out a balance. Figuring out how to be me AND her guardian.” Kurt nods in understanding, and Blaine looks up at him through his lashes, “And I think to do that I have to narrow my focus. I have to only focus on me...and her.”

He waits to see Kurt’s reaction and is rewarded (though it doesn’t feel like a reward) with another pained expression from Kurt who slumps against the couch, “Oh.” He says softly.

“Things are just so complicated right now and I need to simplify them for a while, I think, and find a way to make everything work and…” Blaine begins to ramble but Kurt sits up straight and reaches for his hands, clasping them in his and causing Blaine to stop talking.

“Hey, no, you sound like you’re apologizing.” He says, “You have nothing to apologize for. I get it. I was just momentarily...disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Blaine asks.

Kurt smiles, “I think you’re right that you need to narrow your focus and I am not what you should be focusing on right now, but...it’s always been you, Blaine.”

Blaine is breathless. He literally can’t breathe. Kurt looks up at him through his lashes with a smile, “I’m sorry if that complicates things more, and I promise to leave you to focus on what you need to focus on but maybe...when you’ve worked some stuff out...we could...talk?”

Blaine is nodding before Kurt even finishes the question and the other man laughs softly before cupping Blaine’s cheek in his and kissing him softly. It’s not the start of anything, but it feels like a promise.

Chapter Eleven

“The next person to say the words ‘composition’ has to take a shot and I will not hear another word to the contrary!” Blaine chuckles as Miles shouts louder than necessary to their group of five.

Miles is a guy from Blaine’s music theory class. Actually their entire group of five, sitting in a circular booth at the bar, is from Blaine’s music theory class. They’re a good group, if not a little more into shots than Blaine is, or can be.

“I think that’s my cue to call it a night.” He says and is instantly booed, “All right, all right, all right. I get it. I’m old.” He says.

Carrie, a blonde haired girl with glasses to his left, slings an arm around his shoulders, “You’re not old. You’re just responsible.” He doesn’t miss the way Miles tightens an imaginary tie around his neck as if that represents ‘responsible’.

“Well, either way, I have to be up early tomorrow to take Bethany to school before work. So I’ll leave you all to your shots.” Blaine says, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his jacket.

“We love you, Blaine. Come back to us!” Cruz is a drama major and it shows.

Blaine chuckles again, “I’ll see you all in class on Thursday.” He says and as he leaves he hears a shout of ‘Or for pool on Wednesday!’ He waves over his shoulder to let them know he’s heard them but continues to walk outside.

The cool November air bites at his skin and he pulls his jacket tighter around himself. He misses the warmth of summer but as he makes his way to his car, he can’t help but think about how different his life is from five months ago.

He’s...happy.

He takes a deep breath at the thought and lets it out in a puff of white vapor from his nostrils. As he watches the cloud dissipate, he’s reminded of Marko, one of his students’, assessment of cold breath.

“Winter makes us all dragons, Mr. Anderson!” The eight year old had enthused while he and Blaine had been waiting for his mother to come get him.

“How’s that, Marko?” Blaine had asked.

Marko breathed aggressively out of his nose and the white streams had shot down toward his chest, “Dragon breath!”

Blaine lets another stream of ‘dragon breath’ out as he gets to his car. One thing that’s different about his life? He quit his job at the coffee shop at the beginning of August and now works full time giving music lessons to kids. He’s not sure if it’s what he wants to do for the rest of his life, but as his therapist had said - at least it’s something he’s passionate about *now*. Making coffee had never been a passion. It had been a necessary job. But now he has both a job and a passion.

He’d also switched from business to music classes at the community college.

“I don’t think I can make a viable living with a music degree, especially from a community college in Ohio.” Blaine had said to his therapist, Diana, when she’d suggested it.

She’d shaken her head, “You are twenty-one, Blaine. Your main concern right now shouldn’t be what will make a viable career.” She’d held up her hand when he’d tried to protest, “I know you have Bethany, and it’s admirable that you want to do what’s best for her, but you are secure financially, correct?” Blaine had nodded, “Then take a chance, Blaine. Do what you *want* to do for a while instead of what you think you *should* do. You literally have your whole life to make a sensible decision, your early twenties isn’t necessarily that time. And there is nothing to say music can’t be a viable career.”

Blaine had disagreed with her general theory at first but had agreed to try taking one music course along with his business courses in September...and by mid-October he had transferred out of all of his business courses, except one, and opted into all music courses. They made him feel alive, and that was the feeling he’d been trying to chase.

Which is also why he now has what normal, well-adjusted people would call friends. Friends had been something Blaine felt he didn’t have the time or energy for, but with Diana’s encouragement, Blaine had reached out to a couple of people in his music theory class, and now he has a group of people he goes out with regularly and who are becoming, even after such a short time, a good group of friends.

As Blaine pulls into the parking lot of his building he takes another deep breath and lets it out. He’s got a lot of work still to do, but the lighter feeling in his chest as of late is something he wants to nurture.

He lets himself into the apartment as quietly as he can to find Carole sitting on the couch, raptly watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on the television.

She looks up startled when he comes in and then laughs self-consciously and pauses the television, “There’s just been a plane crash. Things are tense.” She says.

Blaine chuckles, “Things are always tense on that show.”

Carole shrugs and gets up to hug Blaine to her. Blaine goes easily and takes the comfort she provides, “Bethany’s been in bed since eight and asleep since nine when I finally took away her iPad I didn’t realize she still had.” Blaine chuckles again, “Did you have a good night?”

Blaine nods, “Yeah, it was great. Thank you so much, Carole.”

Carole smiles, “Anytime, sweetheart. Though, I think next time it’ll be Burt who watches her. Apparently she’s teaching him how to use Twitter.”

“God help us all.” Blaine laughs and Carole laughs with him before kissing his cheek and seeing herself out.

Blaine turns off the television and flicks on a lamp that casts a soft glow on the apartment as he picks up a fallen blanket and straightens up a little before heading to bed. 

He’s halfway down the hall when Bethany’s door opens and she leans out, “Hey.” He whispers as she looks at him bleary-eyed.

“When did you get home?” She asks.

“Not long ago. I’ve been home maybe ten minutes?” He guesses. She nods, “Did you need something?”

She shakes her head and looks at him with a squinted eye against the light of the hallway. Her open eye looks cloudy with sleep, “Did you have fun?” She asks.

Blaine smiles, “Yeah. I did.” He says.

Bethany nods, “Good.” She nods again, “Good.”

They’re quiet for a moment before Blaine smiles again, “You should head back to bed.” He says.

Bethany nods and then does something that even after five months still shocks Blaine slightly and causes his heart to grow in size every time. She shuffles forward and wraps her arms around his waist in a hug. He hugs her back and kisses the top of her head.

The thing that has made him the happiest over the past five months has been his relationship with his sister. They still squabble and fight, but the closeness and fondness that had been missing has returned. They hug more freely, laugh more heartily, and smile more easily with each other, and Blaine is forever thankful for the change.

“Night, big brother.” Bethany whispers as she shuffles back to her room.

“Night, Annie.” He whispers back and then her door is closed and he makes his way to his own room.

He changes into a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and then sits on his bed to check his phone one last time. He’s got a text from Burt saying he forgot his Twitter password that Blaine decides he’ll answer in the morning as he chuckles and rolls his eyes fondly. He’s also got a text from Miles stating vehemently that Cruz was in fact the first one to say ‘composition’ but that everyone had vowed it had been Miles so he’d had to take an unjustified shot. Blaine laughs and rolls his eyes at this one too, texting back that the world is cruel sometimes.

There are no other new texts or emails on his phone so he’s got nothing left to do but to do the same thing he does every time he goes to bed lately. He flips to his contacts and lets his thumb hover over Kurt’s name in the list.

He hasn’t pressed the button once since Kurt left to go back to New York at the end of June, and Kurt hasn’t tried to contact him either, but that hasn’t stopped him from wanting to every night.

He constantly wonders what Kurt is up to, how his life in New York is going, and how often he may be thinking of Blaine. He does ask Burt how Kurt is doing and Burt always says that Kurt is doing fine and gives him updates on his classes and other things, but it’s never enough and Blaine feels like he’s thirsty for Kurt information. Thirsty for Kurt himself.

He sighs and lets his thumb fall away from his phone, like he’s also done every night for five months. Maybe one day soon he’ll press the connect button. He thinks he’s almost ready.

Chapter Twelve

Kurt is bored. There is no way around it. He doesn’t want to hear another word about fashion marketing. He wants to go home and sleep, or eat some cheesecake, or go out for coffee with Rachel. Really anything would beat his current situation.

Kurt loves school. He really does. But he’s getting a little bit of senior-itis at the moment. It’s his last year of school and he’s kind of done with the whole thing. He wants to be graduated and starting the next phase of his life. And while he doesn’t know exactly what the next phase of his life is going to look like, he finds thinking about it exciting...as opposed to whatever it is his professor is droning on about. He is not excited about that right now.

Finally, mercifully, his class is dismissed and he packs his bag and puts his jacket on, already texting Rachel to see if she’s free for coffee.

His attention is on his phone as he exits the NYU building and he doesn’t notice until too late when his body collides with another at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He apologizes, instantly.

He looks up to make eye contact with who he hit, and his breath instantly catches in his throat. Those eyes, those eyes that he would know anywhere at anytime no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen them in person (five months, three weeks, and six days - but who’s counting?) are currently staring back at him.

Attached to those eyes is a smiling mouth, but that’s all Kurt gets a chance to catalogue before he’s being ‘attacked’ by a set of arms around his throat, “Kurt!”

Kurt chuckles in both confusion and delight as he brings his arms up around Bethany, “Hey Annie!” He says, still looking at Blaine who is still looking at him with a smile, his chin slightly obscured by a soft looking scarf wrapped around his neck and inside the blue winter jacket he’s wearing.

“We wanted to surprise you!” Bethany says as she lets him go and moves to stand back next to Blaine.

Kurt chuckles, “Well, I’m definitely surprised.” 

Blaine chuckles as well, “Do you...have time for a walk? A coffee?” He asks.

Kurt nods, “Yeah, just let me text Rachel quickly. We were going to meet for coffee.”

“Oh, don’t let us change your plans.” Blaine says, but Kurt waves him off.

“It’s no big deal. I’m...so happy you’re here.” He says for lack of any other articulate way of telling Blaine how amazing it is that he’s standing here now.

Blaine nods and smiles as Kurt quickly texts Rachel that he won’t be able to make it after all and then the trio begin to make their way through the streets toward Washington Square Park.

-- -- --

Blaine had debated whether this was a good idea. Well, debated and talked to Diana and Burt and Carole about it ad nauseum. But when all three of them confirmed that this was a good, if not great idea, he’d decided to just go for it. He’d made arrangements, told Bethany’s school she’d be out for a few days, postponed his lessons, and here they are. In New York City. Keeping the visit a surprise from Kurt had been a debate in and of itself, but Blaine had breathed a little easier at the look on Kurt’s face when he’d seen them.

“So, what brings you to New York?” Kurt asks as they walk the park with their coffees (hot chocolate for Bethany).

“Uhhhh a lot of things actually.” Blaine says, not sure where or how to start. He should have rehearsed what he wanted to say.

Kurt nods, “Well, I meant what I said, I’m really happy you guys are here.”

Blaine smiles, “We’re happy to be here, too.”

Bethany turns around from where she’d been walking in front of them a little ways and nods at them, confirming her own happiness. Blaine gives her a look and she nods again and smiles at him before pulling out her earbuds and sticking them in her ears. She continues to walk ahead and take in the sights around her, but Blaine knows she can’t hear them and he’s thankful to her for the privacy.

Kurt doesn’t seem to notice the exchange, and as Blaine turns back to look at him he can tell Kurt is trying to act calm and natural but he also knows that this must be more than a little shocking to Kurt after almost six months of no contact.

He owes Kurt an explanation, he’s just not sure how to order that explanation. Again, he berates himself for not planning a speech.

“Did your Dad tell you I started taking music at school?” He starts and Kurt startles slightly at the abruptness.

He seems to recover quickly though, nodding his head, “He did. He also told me you’re teaching music to kids?”

Blaine nods, “Yeah. It’s amazing. Watching them finally figure out a piece or understand music theory? It’s great.”

Kurt smiles, “That’s amazing.” He says.

Blaine nods and takes a deep breath, “That actually...is part of the reason why we’re here.” He gestures forward to Bethany, who is currently dancing as she walks to the music in her ears, and he pauses a moment to smile at his sister’s back.

Kurt furrows his brow, “Oh?” He asks.

Blaine takes another deep breath, “Yeah. I’ve, uh, switched my major to music and after talking with Bethany and my therapist...and Burt and Carole...I’ve...applied to NYU for the spring semester.”

Kurt stops walking.

Blaine walks ahead of him a few steps before doubling back. He keeps an eye on Bethany as she, too, stops and looks at the art from a vendor further up, but his main attention is on Kurt who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Kurt? Are you okay?” Blaine asks.

Kurt seems to shakes himself out of his trance and looks to Blaine, “You...you what?”

“I applied to NYU for the spring semester.” Blaine reiterates, “And...I was accepted.”

Kurt blinks at him, owlishly, and Blaine wonders if he somehow broke Kurt’s brain, or if Kurt is so against the idea that he’s speechless.

“And while this doesn’t necessarily have to have anything to do with you.” Blaine continues, “I...wanted to let you know in case…” He trails off and Kurt looks at him with wide eyes.

“In case what?” He asks breathlessly.

“In case you WANTED it to have something to do with you.” Blaine finishes lamely.

Kurt swallows, “I need to sit down.” He says.

Blaine immediately looks around for a bench but Kurt shakes his head, “Not here. Can we...go back to my place? I need to be warm and in a comfy chair.”

Blaine nods, “Of course.” He says. He gestures to Bethany who walks over to them, pulling her earbuds out.

“We’re going to head to Kurt’s for a bit.” He tells her and she nods, her eyes flickering to Kurt’s silent white face every few seconds. Blaine turns to Kurt who is staring off into the middle distance, “You’re going to have to lead the way.” Blaine says and Kurt once again shakes himself out of whatever stupor he’s in, nods and leads the pair to the street where he hails a cab.

Blaine wishes he could read how Kurt is feeling but he’s lost and the entire way to Kurt’s apartment he tries to brace himself for this going badly.

He tries to remind himself that he doesn’t need Kurt to be happy. That he is whole and worthy of happiness all on his own, but he can’t help but feel like Kurt’s refusal would be a blow to the progress he’s made.

He tries to be present in the moment though, like Diana had taught him, and looks out the window with Bethany as they slowly make their way through traffic.

-- -- --

Kurt’s apartment is small but perfectly Kurt. It’s furnished with eclectic furniture and the colour pallete is deep and warm. Blaine unwinds his scarf and takes off his jacket, handing it to Kurt to put away as he takes in the pictures on Kurt’s wall.

His breath catches when he sees a picture of himself, Kurt, and Bethany from their senior year. It had been taken at an ice rink around Christmas time and Bethany had been standing between the pair with her arms wrapped around each of them. All three have huge smiles on their faces. Blaine feels his heart warm at the fact that Kurt would have such a picture in his home and he feels hope begin to build once again.

“Bethany, why don’t you take my laptop and watch Netflix in my room?” Kurt says, handing her the device and she goes without complaint, smiling at the pair before disappearing into the room Kurt indicates.

Kurt gestures for Blaine to take a seat on the couch and he takes it while Kurt sits on the other side. They look at each other and then away, a sudden nervous, awkward energy around them.

“So...tell me again?” Kurt asks eventually.

Blaine recounts his decision to apply to NYU after deciding it’s where he felt he and Bethany would get the most benefit. He tells Kurt about how moving near the end of Bethany’s eighth grade year wasn’t ideal but she’d start high school in New York so it was as close to perfect timing as they could get. He tells Kurt that while Kurt was one of the reasons they’d decided on New York he wasn’t the ONLY reason and how that, according to his therapist, was an important factor in this being the right decision.

“So what I’m saying,” Blaine says finally after explaining himself, “is that I’m ready to give us a try. If you still are, I mean.”

He’s done a lot of talking. And Kurt’s done a lot of listening. But now Blaine stops and looks expectantly at Kurt.

Kurt is looking back at him with a partially shell-shocked expression, and Blaine has to force himself not to keep rambling. He wants to give Kurt the chance to think about this. For all Blaine knows, Kurt is seeing someone else, and while that would hurt, Blaine knows he’ll be okay. He’d like Kurt in his life and if the only way he can get him is friendship...he’ll be okay.

Kurt is quiet for so long that Blaine starts to feel slightly awkward. He starts to think maybe he should suggest he and Bethany leave and let Kurt think about it on his own, until Kurt once again shakes himself from his thoughts and turns to look at Blaine.

“I am so sorry.” He says.

Blaine furrows his brow. Sorry? For what?

But before he can ask, Kurt is continuing, “I am so sorry for how we broke up.” Blaine inhales sharply, “I was dumb and selfish and *such* an idiot and you did not deserve that.”

“It’s…” Blaine starts but Kurt interrupts him with a wave of his hand.

“No, it’s not okay.” He says, “I...have spent the last three years trying to tell myself you’d never take me back and that I was over you but...I was never over you.”

“So, what are you saying?” Blaine asks, breathlessly.

Kurt reaches forward and takes his hand, “I’m saying that I’m sorry and that if you’ll have me...I would love to make up for lost time and love you the way I should have all those years ago.”

Blaine feels tears pool in  his eyes and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He had prepared himself for this not ending well. He hadn’t prepared himself for this.

“So...will you have me?” Kurt asks.

Blaine looks deep into Kurt’s eyes, eyes he’s loved longer than he’s known Kurt’s name, and smiles, “Of course. If you’ll have me...well...us.” He says, gesturing to Kurt’s bedroom door behind which Bethany sits.

Kurt lets out a wet laugh and pulls Blaine to him, “For as long as you’ll let me.” He whispers before sealing his mouth to Blaine’s in a kiss.

Blaine’s last thought before he can focus on nothing but the mouth on his and the hands on his body is he hopes Kurt’s okay with the idea of forever. Because, right now, that’s how long he envisions this lasting.

The End

[rebelsofshield]

2020: Top Ten Star Wars Media to Look Forward To

We have closed out the end of the Skywalker Saga and with it a decade of Star Wars storytelling. Luckily, Star Wars is bigger than ever with many promising and exciting stories on the way in 2020.

10. Star Wars Resistance Finale

It’s hard to believe that we have only a little more than five episodes left of Star Wars Resistance before it closes the story of Kazuda Xiono and his flying ace allies. It’s certainly been a bumpy ride at times, but when it is at its best Resistance is some of the most pure fun Star Wars storytelling in the current saga. Seeing how showrunner Justin Ridge and his creative team bring an end to this two season story is sure to be exciting as we see the fates of our friends on the side of the light, the dark, and everything in between. Especially our dear Tamara Ryvora. Oh, Tam.

9. Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren

The first issue of this miniseries arrived last year, but writer Charles Soule and artist Will Sliney’s chronicling of Ben Solo’s meteoric fall from grace is already a stunner. The Rise of Kylo Ren’s first issue delivered an emotionally complex character piece that also provided tantalizing new lore for the intriguing, if criminally underutilized Knights of Ren. Its next three issues are sure to be as revelatory and heartbreaking as its first. Soule has a difficult task ahead of him in not only filling in some of the biggest blanks left over by the Sequel Trilogy but also walking the fine line between making Ben Solo’s transformation into Kylo Ren emotionally resonant but without taking away the acts of evil that made him such a compelling antagonist in the first place. Given his strong storytelling track record, he seems more than up for the task.

8. Star Wars: Doctor Aphra

Doctor Aphra remains one of the best original creations to come out Marvel’s Star Wars publishing line. As a chaotic Indiana Jones-esque archaeologist and the first canon queer protagonist for the full Star Wars franchise, Aphra won over legions of fans with her convoluted scheming and out there plots. While Simon Spurrier finished off his take on the character last year, Aphra isn’t having a long break with Nebula Award winning writer Alyssa Wong taking the reins of her future adventures. Joined by artist Marike Cresta, Wong looks to charter a new era for the character that will hopefully be as twisty and fun as her last. Also, there’s those pesky rumors that our good doctor may be making the jump to television sometime in the future. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

7. Star Wars: Darth Vader

Greg Pak has big shoes to fill. To say that Charles Soule and Kieron Gillen’s Darth Vader runs were successes would be an understatement as both are frequently cited as not only the best Star Wars comics of the current Marvel era, but some of the best the franchise has produced ever. Hopefully, Pak is up to the challenge. Charting the Dark Lord of the Sith’s emotional fallout from his son’s rejection in Cloud City, Darth Vader looks to head into new territory and hopefully provide even more of that sinister characterization that past writers excelled at. Marvel clearly can’t get enough Vader, and honestly, neither can we.

6. Star Wars: Queen’s Peril

EK Johnston’s Queen’s Shadow was the Padme story that we all sorely needed. Telling a politically charged coming of age story while also revitalizing the former Queen of Naboo and her handmaidens as fully formed characters, Johnston’s Queen’s Shadow was a delight and one of the most unique Star Wars novels of the past several years. The fact that she gets to tell more stories with this cast of characters is a blessing and a prequel novel following Padme’s early years as Naboo’s matriarch is an intriguing concept. Let’s hope for much more handmaiden intrigue and as many flowery clothing descriptions as possible.

5. Star Wars Alphabet Squadron: Shadow Fall

If we have learned anything, the middle chapter of Star Wars trilogies tend to be their most divisive and esoteric. Hopefully Alexander Freed’s second installment of Alphabet Squadron lands more in The Empire Strikes Back camp than Attack of the Clones. Having built a stellar ensemble cast in the first installment of this series, Freed now looks to complicate their lives as the final stretches of the Galactic Civil War become more hectic and frayed. Alphabet Squadron was one of the most immersive and mature Star Wars novels of last year and its sequel, Shadow Fall, hopefully continues that trend.

4. Star Wars

It’s been a long time since Marvel’s main Star Wars title was a must read comic. While it briefly soared back to life in the middle portion of Kieron Gillen’s take on the series, Star Wars has still been a far cry from its stellar opening arcs for quite some time now. If anyone can right the ship it is Charles Soule. The superstar Star Wars writer looks to take our heroes through a time of heartbreak and inner turmoil as we chart their lives following the climactic events of The Empire Strikes Back. It’s still a largely unexplored era in galactic history and Soule, who manages to blend large picture and character centric plotting with grace, seems like the perfect fit to take us there. Its first issue debuted just this past week and if it is any indication, then we are in for a dark, but hopefully rewarding, treat.

3. Project Luminous

Almost a year out from its announcement at Celebration Chicago and the mysterious publishing initiative, Project Luminous remains as illusive as ever. Theories range from a massive tribute to the fortieth anniversary of The Empire Strikes Back ala 2017’s amazing A Certain Point of View or even a multimedia experience set during the Old Republic. Regardless, the talent involved is enough to get any fan excited. Claudia Gray, Daniel Jose Older, Charles Soule, Justina Ireland, and Cavan Scott have all been confirmed to be a part of this…whatever this is… and given the great work churned out be all parties involved, it’s hard not to be ecstatic at what could come.

2. Star Wars The Mandalorian Season 2

I’m pretty sure all Star Wars fans breathed a sigh of relief when Jon Favreau revealed that we would have to wait less than a year until the second season of The Mandalorian. With the DNA of the series now set and our cast of characters primed for more adventures, The Mandalorian seems prepared to take us to all manner of new adventures in its sophomore season. While the creative talent behind the screen has yet to be revealed, one can only hope that the directing team is as diverse in talent and vision as last year. As for plot? Well, we don’t know much at this point, but we do know that there is a rather jacked Gammorean appearing somewhere. Baby Yoda’s future is still on the line. Oh, and Moff Gideon somehow has the Darksaber. Forgot about that. That seems important.

1. Star Wars: The Clone Wars

It’s hard to believe that over half a decade after its mid production cancellation, Star Wars: The Clone Wars is returning to finish its story. It’s the sort of announcement that had it been leaked beforehand, would have been hand waived away. For fans that had become accustomed to the disappointment of seeing the unfinished plot threads for the series resolve in other media, the reveal that we would be getting a twelve episode final season was an incredible dream come true. There’s going to be an undeniable emotion to seeing Matt Lanter, James Arnold Taylor, Ashley Eckstein, Dee Bradley Baker, and Sam Witwer back in their voice roles once again and it’s more than certain that writer and director Dave Filoni is certain to have a few heartbreaking surprises on the way. This is sure to be a revival and finale to remember.

[leguin]

hey helen! i hate to ask for something so. embarrassing. but you're the person whose taste i trust most so here i am. do you have any good spn fics? esp moody ones (but that don't leave you feeling like shit :D) tysm <3

well 1) thank you, and 2) you may change your mind re: taste after reading some fics on this list. full disclosure: i have read a grand total of one spn fic since ~2014, so i’m pulling from what i had bookmarked way back then, and while i will vouch for some of the fics here, i put some others on just because i have vaguely fond memories of them. tbh this kind of turned into me just reminiscing about the state of spn fics between 2010 and 2014. anyway. hope you enjoy some of these!

heirloom by tibbins - i rec’d this pretty recently, but it’s worth putting on here for anyone who missed it. set in s14, it’s a confrontation between dean and john that’ll put you through the wringer. 12k.

these, our bodies, possessed by light by secretlytodream - a fanvid, not a fic, but i’ll always take an opportunity to rec it. very sad. fantastic audio editing.

all things shining by askance and standbyme - cross your palms with stars for love! oh man. this is the main story in an extended au known (to me, anyway) as the star & the catfish. it was a big deal (to me). there was a lot of poetry. there was a book of short stories and scripture that i own a physical copy of. i have absolutely no idea if it holds up, but it absolutely blew me away at the time. stylistically and thematically sort of reminiscent of marilynne robinson’s books, with some little, big-esque magical elements. 141k.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by askance - a horror story. it’s been 8 years and i still listen to the soundtrack regularly. this one really left an impression on me, and, like all things shining, ended up shaping how i think about writing fiction today. that being said, i don’t know if it holds up - but i suspect it does. 31k.

savage land by liralen - getting into some good old tropey ‘everything’s fucked up’ territory here. (technically sam/dean, but there’s only one line that goes in that direction). 5k.

an exercise in ‘worthless’ by beastofthesky - according to my blog, the other Big Fic of 2012 along with isoh. it’s a tattooist/college au, and big on the rom-com misunderstandings iirc. 26k.

look in my tormented eye by darkmagess - honestly i remember nothing about this fic and its sequels, but it does tick the moody box and i had it bookmarked, so on it goes. 51k.

family business by luchia - an au where the winchesters are in the mob, and dean and cas meet at a soup kitchen where dean is doing community service for mob-related crimes. one of my favorites, back in the day. 35k.

the girlfriend experience by rageprufrock - deeply quotable, disturbingly explicit. a story about brojobs at the end of the world, and dean having debilitating intimacy issues. 15k.

jump the track by alysian_fields - a high school au. i don’t remember the details of this at all, but mal sent it to me and i went ‘oooof jump the track’ so it clearly left a mark. 83k.

start quoting shakespeare and we’re done by pyrebi - i used to watch what’s your number? a lot in the early 2010s. this fic has nothing to do with the movie, but just so we’re clear about the amount of rom-com tropes i was into. anyway, this is a librarian au, and it’s a rom-com, and i was very fond of it. 15k.

[beckzorz]

Dressed to Kill: Killer Shoes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 9852 Summary: Ever since Bucky found you on that island beach, you’ve been each others’ best-kept secret. So why are you looking at him like he’s a stranger when you’re supposed to be miles away? Warnings: NSFW (language, smut), 18+ A/N: Sequel to Dressed to Kill, one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, for @jewelofwinter‘s 1.5k writing challenge! Congrats to my dear Jessica on this awesome milestone! My prompt was booze. Hope you enjoy!!!

Sidestepping a tipsy woman’s flailing arm, Bucky snags a fingernail-sized quiche off a passing waiter’s tray. He pops it whole in his mouth, ignoring the snort of derision from the comm device hidden by his ear.

“Jesus, Barnes, you’re supposed to be the classy one.”

“Shoulda sent Wilson,” Bucky mutters as he dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Hill just chuckles. “Yeah, probably. If only he wasn’t the most recognizable superhero in America.”

How he manages to keep from rolling his eyes is a mystery. Thankfully, Hill doesn’t say anything else, even when Bucky makes the mistake of licking his fingers after eating a tiny, glistening slider.

For some reason, the cocktail party spirit is evading him tonight. Hill doesn’t know why, but she sure as hell knows he’s not on top of his game. If Sam were here, he’d be giving Bucky even more bullshit than Hill.

Well, Bucky knows the reason if no one else does. No one else had better know.

You’re his secret.

He’d be doing better if he didn’t know you were in town. He might have smuggled you a ticket, finagled your help, done something more fun than this private eye bullshit somewhere private—but no, you’re working too.

A different place, different mission, different target.

Presumably a different end goal, too. Well, whatever. Hill might judge, Wilson definitely would, but Bucky’s done too much murdering of his own to give a fuck if you’re off murdering someone who deserves it tonight.

He assumes they deserve it. You might have unconventional methods of making the world a better place, but that’s what you’re doing.

What he’s doing, too, even if tonight is the biggest pain in his ass since that long mission posing as security in Ukraine. If only you weren’t working. God, how nice that would’ve been. Bad table manners aside, he’s done his job. There’s loads of nooks and crannies in this place that’d be perfect for—

Bucky chokes on his champagne.

A woman just walked in. Black dress, deep lipstick, killer heels. Under all that, a face and body to die for.

It’s you.

Bucky turns away, face hot. He wipes his mouth as daintily as he can to disguise the utter bafflement he feels. Is the room warmer than before? He can’t tell. All he knows is that the mingling crowd is too much. Last time he’d seen you in a crowd…

He surreptitiously adjusts his pants. Best not to think about that now.

What the hell are you doing here? Did you finish your mission? How the hell did you even get a ticket?

He traces the outline of his phone in his breast pocket. It’s quiet. Can he sneak it out for a look, or is that too rude?

No, fuck that, he doesn’t need to look. If you’d called, or even texted, his phone would’ve vibrated.

Why didn’t you call?

Hell, why aren’t you looking at him? Talking to him? Running your hand down his lapel…

Bucky chances it. He turns around, but you’re leaning against the bar, eyes resolutely elsewhere. Mission be damned; the assignment can wait a few minutes. He makes his way through the crowd, silk dresses whooshing against his suit as he squeezes between clusters of the rich and ambitious.

He’s not the only one stunned by you. You’re smiling coyly at the bartender, whose eyes keep drifting back to you as he mixes a drink and slides it your way.

Huh. Bucky’s never seen you drink a martini before.

You stir the olive through your drink, eyes drifting down the bar and passing over Bucky with no more feeling than if you were looking at a stranger.

A chill runs down his spine.

You’re good at your job, damn good, but there’s never been a single moment that you haven’t reacted to the sight of him. For the first time, Bucky looks closer. The curve of your neck, the size of your breasts…

Ah.

Quite.

He orders a whiskey from the bartender, props himself on the bar with his elbows, and tugs his phone out of his pocket. Clicks off his comm device. Dials a number. Waits. His lips curl into a smirk when someone picks up.

“Hey, darlin’.”

—

You cross one leg over the other and lean back in your chair, lips pressed tight together as you adjust your phone against your ear. The man across from you watches with a sympathetic grimace as he cuts his steak.

“Ballsy of you to call after all this time,” you say stonily.

A pause, then a low chuckle that makes you glad you’re wearing closed shoes—Nicholas can’t see the way that sound curls your toes.

“Well, better late than never, right?”

“No, I think never would have been better.”

Nicholas nods approvingly. You reach over and slide your hand into his, mind a million—or more accurately, a quarter dozen—miles away.

“If you have something to say, say it,” you continue. “Otherwise—”

“I can see you when I close my eyes.”

You can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice, but the next words come out sounding less sultry.

Less sultry, more ominous.

“Sometimes, like right now, I don’t even need to close ‘em.”

What?

Questions swirl in your brain. What the hell does he mean? He can see you? But you’re miles away, in some rich loser’s eat-in open-concept kitchen—

You swallow, set your jaw, and squeeze Nicholas’ hand. His eyes are blue, but they’re the wrong shade, the wrong shape.

Wrong everything.

“That’s very sweet,” you drawl. “But you can stop wasting your time. Go use those cheap lines on someone else.”

You hang up and groan, burying your face in your hands to disguise your racing pulse.

“Just block his number,” Nicholas says. He takes a sip of his wine.

“I will,” you lie. A few deep breaths help settle your nerves, but your mind is reeling. A sniff for good measure as you recreate some semblance of composure. “God, I can’t believe I let him get under my skin.” You rub your arms and shiver. “You think you know a person…”

“People can be awful,” Nicholas says. He sets down his fork and pats his knee. “C’mere, you.”

You glance at him from under your eyelashes as you set your napkin on the table and sidle around to drop on his knee. You loop your arms around his neck and press your cheek to his shoulder.

Nicholas settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs tracing circles low on your belly as he murmurs placating nonsense in your ear. You’re not listening. You’re busy unsticking a patch from the inside of your wide bangle.

“—and you know you can always trust me,” Nicholas says.

You cup his neck in your hands, the finger-sized patch latching seamlessly onto his skin and already starting to dissolve.

“I know,” you murmur.

You lean in slowly, but Nicholas blanches. He lurches to his feet, sending you sprawling to the floor.

“Nicholas?!”

“I—I’m sorry—I think I ate—”

He darts to the bathroom, and within seconds you can hear him retching.

Finally.

You climb to your feet and grab your phone, mind racing back to the Bucky problem now that Nicholas is out of the way.

What the hell did he mean, he can see you? How can he? Does he mean he’s watching a video feed? But there aren’t any here. You turn your phone in your fingers and bite your lip. Bucky’s working tonight, same as you—well, sort of. It would be silly to call him back before you’ve even thought his riddle through. Not to mention while Nicholas is still on his feet. You don’t know how much that patch will affect him.

How can Bucky be seeing you if he’s miles away? It’s impossible.

Unless…

Unless—

“Oh shit,” you mutter.

Someone is impersonating you at the party.

Someone.

Is impersonating you.

At the party.

Well that just takes the cake.

You slip your phone back into your purse and go knock on the bathroom door.

“Nicholas? Are you alright?”

A groan.

“I’m coming in,” you tell him. A beat, and then you push the door open with as concerned an expression as you can manage.

Nicholas is back on his feet, but he’s pale and shaky. Perfect.

“Oh, love!” you gasp. You rush over and steady him. “Let me help you.”

“You’re a godsend,” Nicholas says weakly. He leads the way to his bedroom—his apartment is sprawling; how the hell does he manage? Who needs this kind of space?—and lets you tuck him in.

“Shouldn’t have had that steak,” he says. “You did warn me it looked a little off…”

“Oh please,” you tell him. You press a kiss to his brow to conceal your scowl. Can’t he just go to sleep and stop talking? You’d only warned him about the steak in case of emergency. You hadn’t expected to need to pull off that trick… “Rest, dear. I'll come by tomorrow to check up on you, alright?”

“You’re an angel,” Nicholas mumbles. He smiles, finally letting go of your hand.

Angel?

You pull back as fast as you reasonably can, a little queasy yourself now. No one calls you an angel but Bucky. It’s wrong, sickening, to hear it from this dumb jerk.

It’s a disgrace. How dare he.

You’re out of Nicholas’ place before you even have time to consider your own mission. So much for his bank accounts, his trust funds, his shady offshore properties…

Well, screw that. It can wait. You’ll be back tomorrow.

—

Easy enough to catch a cab, easy enough to namedrop the most upscale venue in the city. Easy enough to hook into the video feeds you’d had Kasie hack into back when you didn’t think you’d be going.

You call Bucky as the driver peels away from the curb. He answers in a ring and a half.

“Didn’t know if you’d call,” he says.

“Is she wearing a black dress?”

“Uh… yeah. How’d you—”

“Feeds are fuzzy. Can’t tell for sure if that’s her,” you say curtly.

“Don’t be like that,” he says.

You bristle as you fix a fresh patch to the inside of your bracelet. Just in case. “Like what?”

“Like you aren’t glad I called.”

You close your eyes, tip your head back. “I’m a little preoccupied,” you murmur. “Not every day I find out my cover’s blown.”

“We’ll figure it out, darlin’.”

Bucky’s voice wraps around you, almost as comforting as if he was holding you in his arms. You'd had to hide your delight before, at Nicholas’ place, but no one’s looking at you this time.

This time, you let yourself smile.

—

The first time you’d met Bucky, you’d swept from the street up marble steps not unlike these. Of course, back then the whole point had been to distract him.

You smooth down your skirt as you wait for Bucky to let you in. This time, you’re distracted even before you walk in the door. Bucky’s nowhere in view and you’re already a bundle of nerves. Of course, Bucky’s not the one making you nervous.

He really should be, you decide. You’ve never not gotten a swoop in your stomach from catching sight of him, whether through a rifle scope on a rooftop or from the bottom of a carpeted staircase. Or from a bed. And he’d looked so good in the feeds, blurriness aside… No man had ever looked better in a suit.

If nothing else, thinking about Bucky is doing wonders to distract you from the more pressing problem. Who has time to consider the implications of someone posing as your double when in just a few moments, you’ll be able to run your hand down his velvet lapel?

A sigh escapes your lips. You lean against a column by the door, gazing down at the street. Cars start and stop as they ease by, the occasional bike or scooter weaving between traffic. Black taxis reflect the last pink stripes in the sky, the white streetlamps, the red-yellow-green of the traffic lights. Pretty, but your focus is still caught up with the man coming to fetch you.

It’s been too long since you’ve seen him, touched him… You’ve been in the same city for a few days, but his team is too perceptive for him to have snuck away. Every meeting with him has been snatched, secret. Your hands curl, fingernails digging into your plans.

What you wouldn’t give to have the freedom to have him whenever you want.

The desperation, the need tugging at you makes you feel like an addict, but god if Bucky Barnes isn’t the best drug there is.

“There y’are.”

You flinch, pulse racing under your skin, as that smooth voice washes over you. A swallow, and you press your eyes closed just for a moment before looking at him.

It’s the same exact rush you’ve gotten every single time you’ve seen him. The swoop in your belly, the clench of your thighs, the way your mouth goes dry when his lips quirk into their customary smirk. And gosh, that suit looks even better in person. It’s black, with sharp lines that mirror the sharp line of his jaw, and a velvet lapel that you just know won’t be nearly as soft as his lips. All your frustration melts away.

Finally.

“Hi,” you breathe.

Bucky offers you his arm, his blue eyes dark as they drink you in. A new dress, a black dress, the perfect match. The style he likes, with a fitted bodice and draping skirt. You hook your arm through his elbow, trying to hide your relief at finally being with him. Not to mention the absolute thrill of having his strong, solid arm under your hand…

Bucky flashes his ticket—and a SHIELD badge—at the doorman, who lets you both in with an inquisitive frown. Did he see your doppelganger earlier? No matter.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Bucky teases.

You snort. “I’d thank you for the invite if I wasn’t so damn aggravated.”

Bucky drops a kiss against your hair as you study your surroundings. A gilded lobby, just shy of ostentatious, with a a row of polished wooden doors leading into the function hall. Two concierges at the long counter by the doors, glassy-eyed and bored until they notice you looking, at which point they turn on megawatt smiles. You bite your tongue as you smile back. Ah, nothing like customer service.

That’s at least fifty percent of your own job, really. All that simpering at Nicholas…

You shudder.

Bucky pauses mere feet from the door—you can already hear the lounge singer crooning away—and frowns down at you.

“Y’alright?”

“Sure, sure.” You adjust your hold on his arm, then step back. Time to get back in the game. You rub your temples. “Is there a plan? Or are you just winging it?”

Bucky scratches his cheek, brow pinched. “She seems to be focused on one guy in particular, but I don’t know if it’s about murdering him or what.”

“And you just left her in there?!” you gasp. He rolls his eyes.

“Calm down, darlin’, no need to blow a gasket. Got my backup to come in, keep him busy. But not so busy the other you suspects.”

You let out a stream of air between your teeth. Fine. That works.

“Anyway, if you’re done accusing me of not knowing how to do my job—” he shoots you a sardonic look bordering on a glare— “I figured we’d just corner her, get her out, get her talking.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

You brush past Bucky, eyes ahead, and push the doors open before he can stop you. Enough talking. Time to take this bitch—whoever she is—down.

—

Unlike the first—and only—time you’d been dressed to the nines together, you’re geared up. These are your killer shoes, with the blades hidden in the soles and a needle inside the right heel. There are two holsters hidden under your skirts, and false pockets granting easy access to your pearl-handled pistols. Your necklace hides a garrote, your bangle a drugged patch.

And you’ve got murder on your mind.

No one, not once in your entire career—or maybe even life—has ever pretended to be you. No catfishers, no copycats…

Well, not that you have a style that enables copycats. You’re an assassin, not a serial killer.

There’s a difference.

Right now, though, you feel the self-righteous pull of a worthy target more than ever. How dare she steal your face.

Barely anyone glances your way when you enter into the function hall. High ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, bubbling champagne passing by on a waiter’s tray. You snag a glass, but Bucky nabs it out of your grip before you can so much as take a sip. You scowl at him, but his eyes are twinkling as he drinks.

“Thanks,” he says. He offers the half-empty flute back to you, but you ignore it.

“Where?” you demand. “Where is she?”

Bucky tilts his head, and you turn to follow his gaze. There, at the bar, a woman in a black dress. Thicker straps than yours has, a fuller skirt… But it’s a close enough match.

A chill runs up your spine. Is that what you look like, in the flesh, from the outside? Are those your shoulders, your ears? Is that the curve of your cheek?

How?

You turn back to Bucky, heart pounding, a million questions on your lips. He touches your elbow and leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“She’s nothing to you.”

A shiver runs through you at the low timber of his voice. You pull back and meet his eyes. They’re burning, bright with determination and dark with—you can’t tell. Murder? Desire? Both?

He nods once, squeezes your hand, and melts into the crowd. You press your hand to your pounding heart. A few people glance at you, but you deftly avoid their gazes. A waiter passes with a tray of hors d’oeuvres; you take a tartlet, bat your eyelashes at the waiter, and trail after Bucky, caviar bursting in your mouth.

You don’t have any problems spotting him. He’s leaning against the bar now, chatting you—her up. Her shoulders are tense; you can see her back, and you have a suspicion she’s not quite able to meet his eyes.

Bucky calls the bartender over and orders her a drink; you can just make out the coaxing smile in his voice as he asks, “What’s your poison, doll?”

“Is booze poison to you?” your double asks. She shakes her head. God, even her voice sounds like yours. Eugh. “A martini, please.”

You slip between two men and slide onto the barstool right next to her. She’s still facing Bucky, and she doesn’t turn her head quite far enough to realize she’s been cornered.

“You know,” you drawl, calm as day, “what I really prefer is champagne.”

The woman freezes. Bucky slides his half-full flute of champagne past her to you, and you take a long, slow sip, gaze fixed on Bucky. His face is serious, but there’s a thrill behind his eyes.

Your double shifts back on her stool, twisting to face Bucky even more, sliding out of her seat. You stand up too, your breasts nearly pressed against her back. From here, you can see the differences. Her skin tone is a little darker, shoulders a little broader… The hair at the nape of her neck isn’t quite the right shape either.

You fiddle with your bangle as you wait for something, anything to happen. Should you play your cards and drug her? Chase her to the bathroom, corner her there? Or let Bucky lead her away, keeping her head unmuddled for easy interrogation?

It’s a choice you don’t get to make.

The woman spins, and the sight of your own face snarling has you reeling, breath catching and eyes going wide. It’s you, but it’s wrong, backwards, wrong wrong wrong—

A harsh shove sends you careening back, and then she darts off. You knock a stocky woman halfway over, barely managing to catch yourself on some man’s sleeve, but your eyes are latched onto her.

Did she really think she could run away from the Winter Soldier?

Your double only makes it a few quick steps before Bucky’s hand clamps onto her shoulder, spinning her back to face him, his SHIELD badge tucked in his fingers, a thin, dark-haired woman rushing forward to assist.

The man whose sleeve you're holding helps right you, and you shoot a sorry to the woman you’d nearly knocked over. She’s too busy gaping between you and your doppelgänger, her eyes round as dinner plates.

Now that your double’s being led away, your fury dissipates. She failed, she’s got her head slumped, and she doesn’t look anywhere near as good as you. A giggle escapes your lips, and the stocky woman stares.

“Evil twins, am I right?” you say.

The woman blinks, too shocked to answer, and then you dart after Bucky and the others, a bounce in your step and every single wrong thing turned right.

You weave between hobnobs as they slowly sink back into their sedate ignorance. How strange. How could anyone go back to their dull party when there’s something like this going on?

Bucky opens a door, and his associate drags your double through. You step ahead to follow, but he catches your eye and shakes his head just before he vanishes.

You freeze. Right. Of course. You can’t just run after him. He’s working. Your relationship, if you can call it that, is a secret. He’s an Avenger. And you’re just…

You’re…

Someone puts a hand on your back. You stiffen.

“Jeez, Mal, what the hell happened while I was in the bathroom?” a low voice mutters.

What the hell…?

You turn and take in the bland face of the middle-aged white man frowning around. Your heart skips a beat, and you let out a slow breath between your teeth. You know that face.

“Some woman got dragged off by the feds,” you whisper, linking your arm in his and angling him away from the bulk of the crowd.

His eyes widen as he looks around, more scared than confused this time. “Are you kidding?”

“No,” you say curtly. “Come on.”

Your grip is solid on his arm, but he puts up no resistance as you lead the way to a door, not the one Bucky dragged your double out of. Mal? Is that her name? Is it short for something? Mallory, Malia?

No. Malinda.

The name rings a bell, but for the life of you, you can’t place it quite yet. You push your guesswork aside as you lead the man—his name is Christian Havemeyer, old money, shady enough to get him onto your radar—down one carpeted hallway and then another to an out-of-the-way powder room.

Your radar.

Oh, of course. Havemeyer was connected to Rex Carston, your target back when you’d first met Bucky. And Carston’s date that fateful night had been Malinda.

Is the woman who’s stolen your face the pretty woman who’d been on Rex Carston’s arm the night he died?

Well, Bucky will find out. Right now, you’ve got your own job to do.

Havemeyer is pacing, hand clutching his dyed hair—there’s no way a man with so many wrinkles on his neck has hair that black—as you lock and lean against the door. You slide your hands into your pockets, watching Havemeyer carefully. He doesn’t seem armed. Better than that, he doesn’t seem the least bit suspicious.

Well, that’s about to change.

“Got any ideas?” you ask. He whirls on you, face red.

“What the hell do you think? You said this event was clear!”

“Well, clearly I missed something,” you say evenly. “That doesn’t mean we can’t still follow through.”

“Follow th—follow through?” Havemeyer gapes, then narrows his eyes. He looks you up and down, realization dawning in his face. He steps back, glances around. “Wait. You—”

“Hmm?” you drawl. You push away the lacy strap holding one of your pistols in place and curl your fingers around the grip. No point turning off the safety; you could take this guy barehanded.

Well, probably. It better not come to that.

Havemeyer’s face shifts from fear and confusion to stern determination. He steps towards you, puffing up his chest and balling his hands into fists.

“Where is she?” he hisses.

You raise your eyebrows, impressed despite yourself. Well, to be fair, he doesn’t know you’re armed to the teeth.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“You’re not Malinda,” he snaps. He takes another step.

A little too close for comfort.

You draw your pistol and press the barrel against his gut faster than he can blink. “Down, boy,” you say coolly. “You should know better.”

Havemeyer slowly puts his hands in the air. You push your gun against him, and he steps back one, two, three times before you’re satisfied. You click off the safety, just for added measure.

“Now,” you say, “let’s talk.”

He swallows. “Maybe you can put down the gun first.”

You tap your chin. Consider.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Behind you, the doorknob rattles.

Well, fuck.

You keep your eyes on Havemeyer as you turn your head towards the door, trying to listen over his ragged breathing and your own. Not that your breathing is ragged.

“Mr. Havemeyer?”

A deep male voice, one you don’t recognize. Havemeyer’s face lights up as your stomach drops.

“Help!” he calls.

“Bad call,” you snarl.

A vicious crack—they’re shooting the door open. You shoot Havemeyer in the kneecap, his howl music to your ears. He collapses like a wet rag. You kick him low in the gut, further immobilizing him, and swing the chair at the counter around to wedge it under the doorknob.

You drop into a crouch and whip out the knife from your left shoe. Havemeyer is curled around his knee, whimpering.

Suits him, the bastard.

You dig your fingers into his jaw, the knife scraping against his clean-shaven cheek, and dig the barrel of your pistol into his wound. He sobs, scrambling, but you don’t give in.

“Talk.”

You’ve got a minute, maybe, before his goon opens the door. But it’s enough.

Havemeyer doesn’t just talk.

He sings.

—

A swift kick to the head knocks him out. Kind of you not to kick him in the knee; the pain would’ve done the trick, but meh. You’re not really here for him. It’s just a nice little bonus, learning things.

Anyway, better not to get blood on your shoes.

You wipe the barrel of your gun, bloody from being jabbed against Havemeyer’s knee, on his suit jacket. It’s been seventy-five seconds since you told him to talk. You really are good at your job.

Of course, you still have to deal with whatever’s waiting behind the door. It’s been quiet. Have they gone for help?

The powder room had no other exits, not even a window. Well, whatever’s waiting outside can’t be worse than things you’ve faced in the past.

Hell, you’re the woman who faced down the Winter Soldier and came out on top—well, not literally on top, but…

Eh, maybe later. Hopefully later.

You press an ear to the door, listening, not daring to breathe. It’s silent in the hall.

Worth the risk. You’re a professional, after all. If some rich man’s security is good enough to get you, you probably deserve to get caught.

You step back and whisk the chair out of the way.

The second you do, the door bursts open.

Oh, bother.

Tall, broad, bulky—you’re nearly pinned by his long arms, but you manage to duck aside. Still, he knocks your pistol out of your hands. You tighten your grip on your knife as you whirl to retaliate, but he jumps back. Your knife grazes his open jacket, cutting a neat slice in the thick material. You don’t have time to admire the clean cut because he’s lunging again.

And he’s got a knife too.

Oh, bother.

You kick the chair in his way, scrambling at the inside of your bangle. He throws the chair at you. It hits; you stumble back, but there’s just enough time as he tosses the chair aside. You hurl yourself at him, latching the patch from your bangle onto his neck with one hand while you drive your knife into his thigh with the other.

He grunts—more pain tolerance than his boss, apparently—and aims his knife at you. But with the patch administered, you’ve got a hand free.

He’s got no chance at all.

Well, let’s be fair. He never had a chance.

A knee to the groin, an expert twist of your hand, and his wrist cracks. This time, he does howl. He stumbles back, away from your knife, back through the open door into the hall. You stalk after him, a feral grin on your face as he slumps against the wall.

“That’ll teach you to pick on girls,” you tell him.

“Who are you?” he whimpers.

“None of your goddamn business.”

Your knife is still bloody. You hike up your dress and carefully wipe the blade clean on the inside of your skirt, still watching the bodyguard carefully.

A low whistle echoes down the hall.

You pause, a smile edging onto your face as you tilt your head. You don’t take your eyes away from the bodyguard, but your whole body lights up. You can sense Bucky from meters away.

“See something you like?” you call.

The bodyguard blanches.

You don’t blame him, really. It takes a really dumb criminal to be delighted to see the Winter Soldier.

What does that make you?

A lovestruck idiot, probably.

Bucky saunters down the hall, smirking. A pair of handcuffs dangle from his right hand; his left hand is tucked neatly in his pocket. “I might.”

Havemeyer’s bodyguard shifts a few inches down the wall as he holds out his trembling hands, one at an unnatural angle. Bucky spins him to face the wall and cuffs his hands behind his back. You slide your knife back into its slot in your shoe as Bucky shuts the bodyguard into the powder room.

“This yours?” Bucky asks.

You turn, still smiling, and reach for your pistol. But Bucky holds it out of your reach, the pearl handle clinking against his metal hand. You stick your hands on your hips and raise your eyebrows.

“That’s mine,” you tell him.

“No time for that now.” He loops his arm through yours and drags you down the hall. “Hill’s on her way over.”

Hill? Is that his associate?

Her?

You press your lips together as you run alongside him. Envy coils unpleasant and heavy in your chest.

Her?

You’re not jealous. You know Bucky well enough now to know he’s got no eyes for anyone else.

But… someone he can work with? Someone he can be in public with? Someone he can see without subterfuge, without shame…

You don’t have regrets about your career. None whatsoever. You’re talented, you’re passionate about it… Some people think murder is wrong, but the world is far better off without certain people in it.

But Bucky—he’s from another world.

A world where you’re not welcome. Not you, not your team, not your delight in a perfectly executed kill. He can ravish you all he wants—all you want, if you’re being honest—but at the end of the day, you’re just a dirty little secret.

It’s never bothered you before. Right now, though?

You hate it.

Bucky drags you down a back staircase, gripping your hand tight. You burst outside into a back alley, the fresh air cool against your clammy skin. A high fence shuts out the rest of the world, but when you look up, you can see the hazy sky, stars barely visible past the light of the city.

“That went well,” Bucky says cheerfully.

“Mm,” you answer, feigning cheer. “Can I have my gun back?”

“Oh this?” He dangles the pistol in front of your face, smirking. You stare stonily, not taking his bait.

Bucky’s smirk drops as you stand there. He passes the gun to you; you check the safety and slide it back into its holster, refastening the snap with a muffled click.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice low.

“I—” You draw your lower lip between your teeth and start to pace. A glance at Bucky; he’s confused, worried, his playfulness fading fast.

But the right words don’t come out.

“What did Malinda say?”

His face screws up, adorably confused. Even as you’re metaphorically kicking yourself in the foot, you’re half breathless by how much you love to look at him.

“Huh?”

“Malinda,” you say again. “The woman impersonating me.”

“Ohhh.” Bucky nods, his face smoothing. “She didn’t give her name, though I assume Hill is on it. Without her mask, it shouldn’t be hard.”

Your eyes bug out. “Didn’t you recognize her?!”

He frowns. Tips his head back. Then his head falls forward, chin nearly brushing his chest.

“Well, shit,” he says. “She was there when we met, wasn’t she?”

Oh my god.

“More than that,” you snap. “She knows who I am! She was Rex Carston’s dinner date the night we—”

You clap your hands to your mouth, but Bucky’s caught on. He steps closer; you step back, until your back is against the wall. He’s boxing you in, face stern.

“What’s this really about?” he says, voice low.

You lower your hands. They’re trembling. “She knows me, Bucky. She has to know me. How else…”

What else is there to say? If she’s in SHIELD custody, and she knows you, she’ll talk. She’ll talk, and you’ll be on their radar.

And then Bucky really will be in bed with the enemy.

“I hate being your dirty little secret,” you mumble, eyes fixed on his lapel. “I don’t want to have to be your enemy too.”

“No,” Bucky says firmly. He grips your face and tilts it up towards his. “You’ll never be that.”

“I'm basically that already!” You knock his hands away, shove him back. “Bucky, I’m tired of sneaking around! It was fun, but I’m tired of it! You don’t care, but I’ll never be good enough for your moralistic friends, and I’m tired of it.”

He blinks.

“But they like what you do,” he says. “I mean, the ones that matter.”

Thank god you’re leaning against the wall, because you’re pretty sure you just fainted.

“Excuse me?”

“They don’t know about us,” Bucky says slowly, “and they don’t know what all of you look like—at least they didn’t—but your team is on SHIELD’s list of outfits not to bother. An unofficial list, but it still counts.”

You’re a fish. A gaping fish. Bucky scratches the back of his head.

“Assuming you don’t take a sharp left turn in the evil direction, I mean,” he adds.

He peers up at you from under his eyelashes, hands stuffed in his pockets. Even with the sharp-as-knives suit and cheekbones, he looks more adorable than ever.

With Bucky clearly nervous, you find your voice.

“So all this time,” you say slowly, “there hasn’t been a reason to be all—” you gesture vaguely— “secretive?”

Bucky’s lips quirk up. “Well, I mean, there’s fun in intrigue. At least…” His tiny smile fades. “I think so.”

“Well shit, I think so too!” You snort. One step away from the wall, towards him. “I’m not in my line of work because I don’t like intrigue. But my god, Bucky, I could have been your date all night! You’re telling me I’ve been missing out on you for no good reason?”

“I figured you had good reason,” he retorts. He steps towards you now, his hands light on your waist. You melt into his touch, warmth spreading from his hands so close to your skin. His face softens. “I never wanted you to think… Shit, angel, I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.” You brush a hand across his face, thumb tracing his sharp cheekbone with a new kind of reverence. He’s close, his darkening eyes fixed on your face, your barely parted lips.

The world is wide open now, isn’t it?

You lean in, his breath on your lips before he stops you. His eyes dart over your heads, by the door—a surveillance camera, red light holding steady.

The very thing you’ve avoided.

The very thing you’re done with.

“Fuck that,” you murmur.

You grab his chin and kiss him, rough and hard and without mercy. He gasps into your mouth, and you bite his lower lip before drawing back. No blood, but his lip’s already swollen, dark pink and even more plump than usual. He’s the one gaping now. You drag your thumb across his mouth, admiring it.

“Fuck that,” you repeat. “Let them see.”

He stares. “Seriously?”

“Am I a liar, Mr. Barnes?”

“Not in the usual way,” he says, lips twitching.

“I’m serious. Now kiss me before I change my mind.”

Bucky crushes his lips to yours. You knew it was coming, but his intensity still tears a cry from your throat as he slams you back against the concrete wall. His hands knead your hips; his teeth nip at your lip just as you’d done to his.

Well, fair’s fair.

Heat thrums though you. You thread your hands in his hair and tug hard enough to break the kiss. His head falls back and you waste no time in leaving a mark against his neck, frantically unbuttoning his jacket, his shirt. He hisses into the open air as your teeth press just deep enough against his throat to hurt. Your lips follow your hands, kissing across that sculpted chest, fingers stealing touches of his skin as his hands skate up your sides.

When you reach the last button on his shirt, you snake your hand straight down his pants and take his hardening cock in hand. His hands squeeze painfully tight on your waist, but you revel in it.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You draw back, lick your lips. Smirk coyly at him from under your eyelashes as you stroke him lightly, one hand still tracing his chest.

“Something the matter?”

Bucky shakes his head and leans one arm against the wall. He’s panting, but he manages a grin all the same. “You and your mouth.”

“Oh, you want my mouth?”

You fall to your knees, cement biting into your knees through your dress, but you don’t care. You tug his zipper down with your teeth and pull his cock free. A fresh wave of want surges through you.

Damn if he doesn’t look like the best snack in the world.

One hand around his base, the other cupping his balls, you draw him into your mouth with a hungry moan. Hot, heavy, perfect; god, there’s that delicious stretch you’d been missing, the taste of him, of Bucky, heady on your tongue.

It’s like your first time together. You on your knees, his hand in your hair, him singing your praises, your mouth around him and your hand cupping your own sex, touching yourself through your dress, desperate for release but too busy tasting him to beg him for more.

It’s like then, but it’s not. Because right now, you’re not lying to him. You’re not fooling him, distracting him. No ulterior motive beyond letting the whole world know how much you want him.

How much he wants you.

No more hiding, no more sneaking, no more looking over your shoulder—it’s all you and him, him and you, the two of you together—

Bucky’s hips are rocking now, seeking you out. Lipstick stains his cock dark in the shadows, but you can’t take your eyes from his face. That beautiful face, a flush across his cheeks and a pinch between his brows. Those beautiful eyes, so dark and full of that thing that neither of you have to hide anymore. His panting echoes in the alley, sweet sounds falling like the first spring rain. Beautiful, vital relief. Your skin prickles, pressure building as you struggle to breathe.

You squeeze the base of his cock as you relax your throat, drawing more of him into your mouth. You hum around him, the vibrations pulling a fresh stream of whimpers from his pretty mouth that makes a fresh rush of want pool between your legs. God, it’s filthy how he’s moaning your name, leaking in your mouth…

“Fuck, yes, f—fuck!” he rasps.

A swirl of your tongue around his head, suction so strong it makes your cheeks hurt, and the lightest squeeze of his balls. Then your hand dances back, teasing his rim, and Bucky shouts his release, spilling down your throat as you swallow hungrily.

You pull back and lick your lips clean, smirking up at him as you lightly graze your clothed breasts. Just a pause, to let him come back to himself. And to bask in his afterglow. Looking at him like he is now, flushed down to his chest and his eyes squeezed shut in bliss, is like looking at God.

It’s not long before Bucky’s eyes open. He tugs you up. His breathing is heavy, but he catches it enough to kiss you long and tender, one hand still buried in your hair. You moan into his mouth, breasts tight against his chest. Can he taste himself on your lips?

You break the kiss with a gasp as Bucky pushes you against the wall. He smirks and starts bunching your dress up around your waist, his body still pressed against yours. The air is cool on your legs, all the more so when your thighs are bared.

Bucky leans his forehead against yours, both of you panting as he grips your thigh, toying with the lace of your holster. He shifts his wrist, his eyes blacker than the hazy sky. His touch between your legs buckles your knees; you’re held up by his chest on yours and his other hand on your waist. His hand slips under your panties.

The merest brush of your clit and the world shudders, all your focus zooming in on that tender touch. You’ve been on the precipice for what feels like hours, and his touch, Bucky’s touch…

It’s everything.

You clutch his arms, chin trembling as you try to hold on. His fingers dip between your folds, circle wet and slick against your clit.

“Let go,” he murmurs. He nuzzles your neck, teeth scraping against your collarbone as he works his magic. His left hand holds you steady against the wall, the concrete scraping your shoulders. “Let go for me.”

He curls one hot finger inside you, and it’s enough to tip you over the edge. A cry tears from your throat as you quake in his hold, sparks shooting through you. He coaxes you through, sweet sounds—full words, perhaps, but you’re too overwhelmed to make them out—falling from his lips as he slows his ministrations.

You ease down from your high as Bucky takes his hand away. He’s gentle, his eyes dark but so damn sweet. They’re the first thing you see when you resurface.

He sucks his fingers clean, smiling all the while, as you steady your breathing. He smooths your skirt back over your legs, zips his fly, buttons his shirt. Your face screws up.

“What, is that all?” you manage.

Bucky’s laugh echoes loud and clear in the alley. He slings his arm around you, squeezing your bum fondly as he leads you away. “Not a chance.”

—

The city twinkles outside of the wide windows of your hotel room. Warm lighting, a queen-size bed that might be a bit snug for Bucky—well, it’s upscale, not platinum; you have a budget, after all—and his suit jacket already hung in the closet. Bucky’s standing in his shirt by the window, on the phone with Hill. Maria Hill, Nick Fury’s right-hand man.

“I ran into an old associate,” he tells her for the third time. His voice is steady, though you can see in the reflection his lips pursing. He’s being just vague enough to keep her suspicious. He’s quiet for a moment as you fill a cup in the bathroom sink.

You wander back into the bedroom, nerves humming. The whole cab ride over, Bucky’s hands had been all over you, light and teasing and just enough to keep you right on edge. And the elevator ride up to the seventh floor had him rutting against you like a dog in heat.

Now he’s putting your patience to the test with his drawn-out call when all you want to do is scream his name. You clench your thighs as you swallow, waiting for him to finish. But he’s still got the phone to his ear.

This won’t do.

You finish your water and lick your lips dry, the taste of your lipstick heavy on your tongue. Is his cock still stained with it? You’re dying to find out. The cup clinks against the dresser, abandoned. Bucky’s eyes meet yours in the window reflection as you wander over to him and lean against his back, circling your arms around his waist to start unbuttoning his shirt for the second time tonight. His lips twitch.

“Hill, listen, I gotta—”

“Not until you explain yourself, Barnes.”

You sink your teeth into his shoulder as you slide your hand inside his pants. He jerks, nearly dropping his phone.

“Fu—Hill, it’s fine, just—”

You palm his cock through his boxer briefs.

“Fuck!” he gasps. He slams his fist against the window, but there’s no swallowing back what’s just come out of his mouth.

Hill’s silent for a moment. Then she laughs. “Oh, I get it. Have fun, James. Don’t forget your paperwork!”

Click.

Bucky twists in your arms with a growl. His phone thumps against the floor as he forces his mouth on yours, bruising. He grips your upper arms and pushes you back until your knees hit the bed. A shove, and you’re falling, lips parted from his onslaught as you bounce on the mattress.

“You little devil.”

The low tenor of his voice sends a shiver through you. Bucky crawls over you, his open shirt brushing your arms as you push it down his shoulders.

“Thought I was your angel,” you murmur.

Bucky sits on his haunches and shrugs off his shirt. You lick your lips as you feast on him with your eyes alone, your fingers light on your breasts. Bucky’s eyes fix on your hands. He sucks in a breath as you squirm, nipples hardening under your dress.

“Whatever you are, you’re divine.”

Bucky stands for just long enough to push his pants and briefs off, barely giving you a chance to see how hard he is. But you see well enough: cock jutting out, thick and heavy. And yes, still painted with traces of your lipstick.

He pushes you further up the bed until your head’s on the pillow, then settles back between your legs. His hands knead your thighs, spread them apart. It’s his turn to lick his lips.

“And I’m going to worship the hell outta you tonight.”

Bucky glides his hands down your skirt. You twist your hands in the blankets, breathing shallow as you watch him. He lifts your leg and presses a kiss to the inside of your ankle, fingers dancing along your shoe.

“Killer shoes, huh?”

You laugh breathlessly, but you can’t answer because he’s kissing his way up the inside of your leg, his hands sliding up your skirt so smoothly that you’re a mess before he’s even reached your thigh holster. Fuck grabbing the blankets; you bury your hands in his hair and pull.

You half expect him to resist, but no, he lets you pull him between your legs, pushing your dress up over your waist. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the crotch of your panties, his tongue flicking against your clit. You cry out; your hips buck against his face, but he only chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. He peels your panties away, shifting so he can toss them away with the rest of his clothes. You reach for the satin bows on your holsters, but he grabs your hands.

“Safety’s on, leave ‘em,” he says, eyes glinting.

Your eyebrows fly up. “Really?”

He shrugs and tucks his hair behind his ear. “What can I say, watching you at work earlier was a turn-on.” You giggle and run your foot against his side.

“Let me guess, you want me to keep my shoes on too.”

“If it’s comfy.” He winks. “Think you’ll accidentally kill me if I drive you too crazy?”

You nudge at him with the toe of your shoe until he falls back onto you, his cock nestled between you. You twine your arms around his neck and kiss him til you’re out of breath.

“Kill you? Never.” You bump his nose with yours. “Now eat me out, or I might start charging you for my time.”

Bucky laughs out loud. Music to your ears. Then he dives back between your legs, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and settling on his elbows. One last wicked look, and then he latches his mouth to your clit, sucking and flicking and oh god you’re ruined, you’re wrecked. He’s pulling your soul out with his lips. Your hips buck up again, but he stills you with a single warm hand. Sounds fill the room, sounds you barely register as your own moaning.

He’s insatiable. His tongue dipping inside you, fucking you, his metal thumb circling smooth as silk against your clit. His other arm holding you in place so he can devour you, all your whimpers and cries and moans be damned. Your legs are shaking, thighs squeezing his head so tight you’re sure he’s suffocating, but no, he’s just lapping you up, humming, every vibration building you into a tighter frenzy. Sweat beads on your brow, on your chest—you grab hold of his hair, your breasts, the blankets, anything to ground you, but it’s impossible because he’s there, right there, his hips thrusting against the bed as yours strain towards his mouth.

More, more, more; it’s a chant in your mind, on your lips, back arching off the bed as his soaked metal fingers vibrate—

The throes of your orgasm are enough to wake the dead. Bucky lifts his head to watch you come undone, his hand still working on your clit. He lifts his arm from your hips, but by now you’re no more than a pile of mush on the bed, your silky dress sweaty and tight on your body, too much against your sensitive breasts. You twist bonelessly and reach for the zipper.

“Let me,” Bucky murmurs. He slides the zipper down slowly, careful not to let it catch on your skin. Peels the dress down until your arms are free, your breasts free in the open air. A few gentle tugs, and it’s gone, and you’re bare beside him.

Bucky doesn’t touch you, not yet. He hovers next to you, his hands reaching and falling back every second until you look at him and smile.

“C’mere, you,” you mumble. He settles in your open arms, propped on his elbow, his torso stretched across your chest. You brush back his hair and let your eyes drift across his body. Your gaze lands predictably on his cock, still red and hard and lipstick-stained, a bead of precum just at the tip. You take him in hand tenderly, reveling in his quiet hiss. “Poor Bucky. So much time worshipping me he hasn’t had a moment for himself.”

“I mean, you did—fuck, darlin’, just like that—you did suck me off earlier,” he says breathlessly.

You keep stroking him, your hands gentle, rubbing the lipstick stains into new shapes on his skin. Bucky’s tense, every muscle from his neck to his abs to his thick thighs in stark definition as you work along his length.

Bucky tugs your hand away all too soon. He settles between your legs; they’re spread wantonly, heels and lacy holsters an added bonus. His cock is scorching between your legs, sliding slick between your damp folds as he teases you.

“Fun as that is,” he rasps, “I just wanna be inside you already.”

A thrill shoots through you. Bucky rocks his hips gently, teasing, not fast or hard enough to provide relief. You tilt your hips, moaning, anything to spur him on. This dragging out the inevitable is torture.

“Fuck, what are you waiting for?” you gasp.

No warning, no caution—Bucky slams his cock home. Your body arches off the bed as you cry out, tears springing to your squeezed-shut eyes as he sinks deep, so deep it’s just shy of painful. But god, there’s no pleasure in the world better than this. His thick cock in you, his pelvis putting pressure on your clit, stars once again bursting behind your eyes.

Bucky doesn’t give you any time to adjust. His thrusts are fast, long, deep. Your feet scramble for purchase, heels catching on the blanket. A harsh rip as the comforter shreds, but it barely registers.

He notices. He growls, pulling your leg up, still pistoning in and out, pounding you into the bed. With your knee against his chest, he’s hitting all kinds of spots inside you, the ones you’d barely known of before him. Your walls flutter around him, a wail tumbling from your lips—

“Oh god, fuck, Bucky!”

Bucky litters your chest with kisses, alternating between tweaking your nipples and teasing your hypersensitive clit until tears run down your face and all you can do is beg.

“It’s ‘kay, darlin’,” he pants. His pace slows, the long drag of his head tugging at you, pulling fresh sobs from your throat. “Fuck. Look. Look how pretty y’are,” he urges.

You force your eyes open and stare between you. His cock, red and shining from your arousal and his, sliding in and out, your cunt stretched tight around him. You clench the muscles there as he sinks in once more, his prolonged groan enough to make you laugh triumphantly until he rolls you over, his hands strong on your waist as he sits you up, the movement shifting his cock inside you. You hiss and steady yourself with a hand on his chest.

“You seriously expect me to hold myself up? I’ve had two orgasms tonight and you’ve had none,” you tease.

Bucky’s eyes glitter. He rocks his hips up. You can’t move.

“You’re the one who was desperate for more,” he quips. “Prove it.”

“Ugh, fine.”

But you smile as you plant your hands more solidly on his chest, one finger just close enough to trace the scars at his left shoulder. You circle your hips, moving slow and small until he’s clenching his jaw. But he doesn’t beg for more. He just watches you, his hands still on your waist and his eyes black with lust.

The little movements prove your undoing before his, every roll of your hips providing fresh pressure on your clit. You mewl with pleasure as you start to bounce more solidly on his cock, chasing the building pleasure. Every slam has you both gasping. Your nails scrape against his skin, digging in, leaving marks. His hands shift to your breasts, just holding them, rubbing his palms back and forth across your painfully hard nipples. Every shift of his hands, every drop of your hips, every thrust of his send a shower of sparks through you until your whole body is fireworks, starbursts behind your eyes, fire in your blood—

One hard thrust of his hips when you’re not expecting it, one intense burst, and you seize up, shudders racking through you as he holds you up by your chest, walls milking him, eyes unseeing, all of you focused on the pleasure between your legs and the twitching of his cock inside you until he too explodes. He spills inside you, your name falling from his lips, offered up to you like a never-ending prayer as you fall forward to kiss him because you have to, you must.

“Bucky,” you murmur into his mouth. “Bucky.”

Every inch of skin is hot, damp with sweat, but you couldn’t move if the world was on fire. He’s wrapped around you, in more ways than one, and you never want to let him go.

And for the first time, he doesn’t have to go. Whatever his people think of him, they’re leaving him alone. Let the Winter Soldier blow off some steam, they must be thinking, and he’ll be our perfect operative when he gets home.

You smile into the crook of his neck as he strokes your back, your neck, your hair. He is perfect, isn’t he.

It’s a while before either of you have the strength to move. Bucky rolls you off him.

“Stay,” he murmurs. He drops a kiss on your forehead, and you watch his bum as he heads to the bathroom. Your eyes slide shut as you listen to him run the tap, splash water on his face. You don’t hear him come back, but you blink your eyes open again when he settles next to you. He cleans you up with a damp washcloth, tugging your shoes and holsters off as he works.

“There,” he says. He tosses it all off the bed—well, he puts the holstered guns gently on the nightstand—and lies down, pulling you into his arms. You wiggle your toes, stretching out your feet as you snuggle into his side.

Bucky’s quiet, oddly so. Usually he at least says how much he enjoyed himself. He’s never been shy with his words before.

Nerves gnaw at your stomach. What’s the matter with him? You’re not sure how to break the silence, so you let it settle, and wait.

It takes time, but eventually Bucky sighs and kisses your hair.

“It’s real fuckin’ nice that I can stay,” he says quietly.

You nod.

“And…” He swallows. “Were you serious earlier?”

You look up at him with a frown. “About what? I say a lot of stuff, y’know.” He chuckles, but sobers quickly.

“Were you serious about wanting to… be my date?”

The words tumble out of his mouth.

You sit up, heart pounding, and lean over him. His face is cupped in your hands, your eyes are fixed on his, and the whole world is in his hopeful smile. You kiss him, chaste and heartfelt as a ingenue.

“Am I a liar, Mr. Barnes?”

“Not in the usual way,” he answers.

“There we go,” you murmur. You push the damp hair off his forehead. He’s gazing up at you with something past liking, past wonder, past fondness in his eyes. It’s mirrored in yours, whether you acknowledge it or not. Either way, here you are, with him, with everywhere to go. “There we go.”

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Just Like This (Bucky X Reader)

Okay, so I really wasn’t planning on making a part two for the songfic “To Live For, To Die For”…but then I kept writing it. And I kept picturing what happens after and if there was something else to happen. Then…this became a thing. Hope you guys like it!

Sequel to: “To Live For, To Die For”

Also - in this AU Shuri DID NOT get dusted. Instead, it was T’Challa’s wife, Orroro.

Bucky watched Steve and Sam talk from a distance, hands shoved in his pockets. He knew Sam would be pissed that Steve decided to leave. Hell, a part of him was too. Bucky couldn’t deny that. “Till the end of the line” was such…bullshit. Apparently a lot of things were.

“Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky closed his eyes. He took a slow breath as Shuri joined his side. She was here for the funeral. He’d seen her with T’Challa and Orroro, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to them. Seeing Orroro reminded him of her. And remembering her…it was too much right now.

“I told you to call me ‘Bucky’,” he reminded, his voice soft. 

Shuri nodded, knowing better than to egg him on. Now was not the time. So much had happened in such a short period of time. She had lost her brother and her sister-in-law for five years. She had almost lost them again if Thanos had won. A part of her had wallowed, she knew that. Shuri didn’t want to admit it. She wanted to say that she was strong and capable of overcoming such feelings, but she was human. Humans deserved to feel.

“What occurred under Queen Shuri’s rule, hm?” he asked, faint smile and pain-filled eyes staring intently at her. He was curious, always was. Bucky loved Wakanda.

“Well, your goats survived the blip if that makes you feel any better.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, long hair falling to hide his face. He loved his goats. A part of him wanted to go back to Wakanda, but another part of him wasn’t sure he could live with the memories there. “You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you, princess,” Bucky told her, noting how she still had that joy. She would always have that quirky happiness, but there was something else. Shuri had become an adult in their time away.

“Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re queen.”

“You didn’t run Wakanda into the ground, did you?”

Shuri laughed, elbowing his arm and shaking her head. “No, actually. I opened our doors to mutants.” She saw him tense and the way his jaw clenched. “We made advancements in almost every field imaginable by combining our forces.”

“And how does your brother feel about this?”

“Do remember he is married to the infamous Storm,” she said, cheeky grin brightening her eyes. “I did it for them, a way to honor their lives. And now they are back.”

“I’m sure Orroro will love it.”

“I’m sure you will too.” She saw the way Bucky looked at her, raising an eyebrow and studying her as if she held some crazy secret. “What? I’m just saying.”

“Just saying?”

Shuri smiled and squeezed his arm. “Come to Wakanda.” She was telling him. Not asking. “I want to take the opportunity to impress you.”

I’ve been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles, and his gold Hercules, and his gifts Spiderman’s control And Batman with his fists And clearly I don’t see myself upon that list

It was two months before Bucky could actually bring himself to visit Wakanda. The last time he had been there, the love of his live had died. He’d run out of time and failed in the worst way imaginable. But he had to visit for Shuri.

He owed the young genius that much.

However, that didn’t mean he expected this. Wakanda was thriving even more so than before. And he didn’t think that was even possible. Albeit, at the moment it was a bit overpopulated, but the construction he saw on his way in showed that T’Challa was more than willing to support his sister’s ideas from his time away. Looking around, Bucky watched with surprise as young mutants raced with wanna-be warriors through the streets. It was clear that both sides welcomed the other and enjoyed these new games. He wished he could be a part of it. 

“Duck, dude!” Bucky heard the voice and listening was merely instinct. He ducked back, shielding his head with his metal arm as a blast of fireworks flew through the air. He carefully looked up, raising an eyebrow when he saw a teenager in a bright yellow jacket run right past. She didn’t so much as look back at him as she shouted, “Sorry ‘bout that!” 

Bucky straightened, running a hand through his hair nervously. There were a lot of people. Why couldn’t he be back at the hut with the goats? He clenched his jaw, the image of her flashing through his head. 

Oh yeah, that’s why.

“Sergeant Barnes, there you are.” Bucky looked over his shoulder, smirking when he saw the reinstated princess walking his way. She was dressed much more casually than the last time he’d seen her, wearing only a t-shirt and baggy jeans. 

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“And what did I tell you about letting my guards provide an escort? I don’t like being kept waiting.” Shuri crossed her arms, giving him a look that showed there was no way Bucky could get out of this. He was here for Shuri, he had to remember that.

“So what is it you want to show me?” he asked, walking in stride with her.

“You like technological advancements, yes?” She didn’t bother waiting, already knowing the answer. “Then come with me. You’ll love what I’ve accomplished these past years.” Bucky laughed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

The med bay was the first stop. She showed him where mutants with healing abilities were being studied for treating cancer, how they were volunteering because they were just as interested in what could come from these sorts of advancements. And yes, while that was fascinating, Bucky could admit that, he found himself coming to a stop outside one of the rooms. He could only see through the blinds, but what he saw was fascinating. There was a 3D hologram model of a skeletal system and, standing across from it, was a pink-haired mutant with bone marrow jutting out of her skin. It came from her forehead, her back, arms, and legs.

“That’s a mutation?” Bucky asked, looking at Shuri. “She’s like…” He cleared his throat, unable to bring himself to say her name. “She’s a mutant?”

Shuri nodded. “Her bone marrow is helping us understand its strengths and limitations. She wants to help us find a way to combine it with vibranium. I was utterly fascinated by the idea of combining something so human and real with something so technological.”

“How did she even get to Wakanda?”

“Apparently she has a mutual friend with my sister-in-law,” Shuri said, shrugging. “A Lebeau or something. I don’t know. Now, come on! There’s more to see!”

Shuri took charge once again and Bucky stumbled to keep up with her eagerness. The girl was something else indeed. “Where to now?”

The science lab. Shuri’s home away from home.

The doors opened with a loud hiss. “My stars and garters!” Bucky jerked his head up, instinctively stepping in front of Shuri when he was greeted by the stranger hanging from the rafters. He was big. He was hairy. He was blue.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s fine,” Shuri assured him, pushing his arm down as Bucky glanced at her. Fine? Really?

The blue fur ball smiled sheepishly, his feet letting go of the rafters. He landed like a cat, adjusting his glasses along the way. “My apologies, I know the appearance can be a bit overwhelming. Please, Hank McCoy.” He held a hand out and, though Bucky was confused, they shook hands like a pair of true gentlemen. He liked that. He liked that moment of normalcy. “I’ve been studying the super serum used on you and your friend, Steve Rogers. It’s fascinating, far ahead of its time and Princess Shuri here has truly developed an environment where things ahead of their time can be properly understood.”

“Are you trying to recreate it?” Bucky frowned. More soldiers. That wasn’t something the world needed.

“Absolutely not. But knowing how that worked, perhaps there is a way to target cells. To help them function properly. Think of an infant born preterm. There are organs underdeveloped, the child’s body is going through shock, there are high risk problems. Blood from advanced mutations isn’t exactly the safest way for healing. If I could understand the serum itself then perhaps there would be a way to downsize it, to break it into pieces and -” Hank saw the way Bucky looked at him, wide eyed and confused, but also fascinated. Offering the friendliest smile, he patted Bucky on the arm and said, “Let’s finish this conversation another time. I’m sure Princess Shuri has more to show you still?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and looked to Shuri. There was something more important than this? However, the gleam in her eye, the silent conversation that passed between her and Hank, it was clear he was being left in the dark. “What could be more important than this?”

Shuri grinned, the smile looking like the cat that ate the canary. “The rehab facilities.”

She said, where’d you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss

She led him down the hall. Behind them, the facilities were becoming a small glimmer of the possibilities for the future. He still didn’t understand what it was that could be more important than that. Hank McCoy was talking about a future where what he was turned into could maybe lead to something good. So why was she taking him to the rehab facilities? His arm was fine. His head was fine.

They rounded the corner and Bucky saw the far wall was lined with windows. There were curtains on the inside, covering most of the room. The pair approached one of the windows that wasn’t shielded. He peeked inside, frowning when he saw that there were little to no technological advancements inside. There were instruments for stretching, bars for those learning to walk again, various size balls and yoga mats for different stretches that people could then repeat on their own time. Nothing here seemed different from anything he had seen ten years ago.

“What is so important about this room, Shuri? I’d much rather be back with that fur ball. He was talking about -”

“Will you shut up?” She turned to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow when she noticed the bewildered look on his face. Was he really so unwilling to trust her? Shuri’s gaze shifted to the clock behind him. It read three minutes after the hour.  Sighing softly, she looked back to the room and finally let herself get that knowing smile. The back door opened and, without looking away, she took Bucky’s jaw in her hand and turned him to look back in the room. “That is what is so important, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw slackened as he took the smallest step forward. He didn’t hear anything else Shuri had to say. He didn’t hear anything about having to put her in cryo or the organ transplants or anything. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart as he saw her. Her in her baggy, faded black sweatpants. Her in her grey tank top. Her with her longer hair and arm being led in various stretches. Her hand holding a weighted ball.

Her hand. Vibranium from the fingers to the elbow.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Shuri watched him, amused. But she didn’t question him. She didn’t ask as he walked towards the door or when they opened with a hiss. No, she knew what Bucky was thinking.

The door opened with the faintest hiss, catching the attention of her and her physical therapist. The ball in her hand fell, landing with a thud as her brow scrunched in confusion. God, he missed that look. He missed her.

“Bucky?”

“Y-You’re…You…” Bucky walked closer. He hesitated for the briefest moments. Maybe she didn’t want him there. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t known. “You’re…” There was a moment of silence where neither knew what to say. His hands flexed. “You weren’t at the funeral.”

She swallowed, blinking away tears as she turned to face him fully. “Shuri wouldn’t let me leave Wakanda. They’re just breaking through mutant genetics and with all the complications I’ve had…She wouldn’t let me risk it.”

“But you…You’re…” 

She nodded. “I’m alive.”

Bucky took long strides towards her. The therapist practically threw himself out of the way to avoid being tossed aside. He’d heard stories of their relationship. He knew when to duck. But Bucky barely even saw him, hardly noticed him. No, his gaze bore into hers as she took a couple stumbled steps back. He reached for her, grabbing her hip and keeping her from straying too far back. Instead, he pulled her against him. 

She squeaked, her hands bracing against his chest. “Buck -”

“You’re alive.” His voice broke as he pressed his forehead against hers. His nose brushed against hers as he took the time to just breath her in. He kept repeating those two words as if it were a prayer. A tear slipped down his cheek as he blinked once, twice. He was so scared, terrified to even say your name. “You’re alive.”

“I’m ali -” Bucky’s lips pressed against hers, hands cupping her face between metal and flesh. Rough callouses ran against her cheeks as he kissed her. It was rough, overwhelming, and intense. She could barely keep up with him. It was as if he was trying to breath her in, memorizing her in case she vanished between his fingertips. Her smaller hands found his wrists, tracing where his pulse raced. “B-Buck,” she whimpered against his lips, the sound barely escaping as he pulled away.

“Y/N.”

I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this

I want something just like this

Bucky sat on the edge of her bed, his fingers playing with the tresses of her hair as she sat between his legs. She had finished physical therapy and now the two only wanted to be around one another. Shut was right. Hank could wait. 

His fingers, both metal and flesh, ran through and the scent of lavender hit his nose in gentle waves. It was calming, forcing his shoulders to relax, letting his features ease away years of tension. Instead of thinking about how or why they got to this point, he focused on the french braid he was so intent on giving her. Y/N had been confused when he asked, concerned by the small tone of his voice, but was more than willing to just be with him.

“And there we go,” he murmured, tying off the braid with one of his hair ties. Leaning forward, Bucky rest his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. He missed this. He missed the little moments and simple days. He missed how wonderful they felt. How wonderful it was to just be with her. After a few more moments of silence, he trailed his hands along her shoulders and asked, “Can I hold you?”

She smiled faintly, shifting to her knees and turning to face him. “I’d love that,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his face. Pushing his shoulders, she smiled when she noticed how he willingly listened to her. He shifted, moving to the head of the bed and letting her crawl to him. However, when she curled into his side and rest her head on his chest, he knew she wasn’t close enough. 

“Let me hold you,” he pleaded, hand tracing her shoulder.

“You are.”

Bucky shook his head and reached for her, shifting and lifting so that she moved on top of him. A hand trailed down to her thigh, easing it across his stomach and shifting her wait so that she straddled him. She looked up, chin resting on his chest as he peered down at her. He continued to trace her thigh with his metal hand. The other trailed to her back and slipped under her shirt. He traced delicately, lightly letting his fingers brush against the scars from that moment all those years ago. She tensed, closing her eyes instinctively as she tried to keep herself from crying. The reaction was so quick, she could barely process it. “Hey,” he murmured, earning her attention. He moved his hand out from under her shirt, lightly running his fingers along her spin and shoulder blades instead. “It’s okay.”

Y/N nodded slowly, biting her lip as she met his gaze. They’d get there. He could see it in her eyes. She repeated what he said as if it would make her whole again. “It’s okay.”

I’ve been reading books of old The legends and the myths The testaments they told The moon and its eclipse And Superman unrolls A suit before he lifts But I’m not the kind of person that it fits

The sound of the shower was what woke him from his light slumber. It had been a week since Bucky first came to Wakanda. A week since he’d first reunited with Y/N. They still had so much to learn again. There was new damage, new scars. She had nightmares, guilt from regrets. They had new trauma. Both of them had to figure each other out once again. But that was okay.

He stared at the ceiling as if he were stuck in a dream. It was terrifying, that feeling. He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want this to be a dream. His hair was stuck in a disarray of bedhead as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to will himself awake.

And that was when he heard it.

A thud from the shower caused him to sit up. Bucky couldn’t have moved faster even if he wanted to. He tossed the sheets aside, clad in nothing but boxers as he made his way to the steam filled bathroom. The simple, white shower curtain  was the only thing blocking him from Y/N and the sound of her sobs made his heart clench. “Y/N?” Bucky pushed the curtain aside, immediately met by an onslaught of water striking his chest and face. “Y/N…”

He crouched down, noting the streaks of dark red that came from the overwhelmingly hot water. She didn’t seem to care. Her body was curled into the fetal position, her face pointing directly at the ground. Her shoulders shook, her body trembled. “I should’ve been there,” she murmured, finally looking up at him. Her soaked hair was plastered to her skin, red eyes already puffy from how hard she had cried. “I should’ve been there for Thanos. I should’ve been there for the funeral.” Her lip trembled as a sob raked through her body. Bucky’s heart twisted and he immediately crawled into the tub. He took her in his arms and cradled him to her chest. She kept repeating the phrase over and over. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been…I…”

“Sh…Sh, doll,” he whispered, hand cradling the back of her head. Her body trembled violently. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I should’ve,” she sobbed, the rest mumbled into his shoulder. Her nails clawed at herself, as if she was trying to tear out the bad parts. Bucky took her wrists in his hands, leaning back so that he could look in her eyes.

“Y/N, look at me.” She met his gaze, tears slipping down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say. They knew that. Instead, he lifted them up. He kept her close, wrapping her legs around his waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. With his free hand, he adjusted the water, allowing it to cool down some. Bucky refused to let her hurt herself. “It’s okay,” he promised. 

Someday those words would be true.

“I’m not an Avenger,” Y/N told him. “I’m not a hero. I’m not -”

“Neither am I,” Bucky reminded her. “Neither am I, doll.”

“Buck…” She choked on another sob. The shower head ran water down her hair, her face. If it weren’t for the fact that they were in the shower, he would’ve thought she was caught in the middle of the rain. “Buck, why are you here?”

“You don’t get it yet?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. Bucky kissed her forehead. “I want you.” He kissed her nose. “I want the damage.” He kissed her cheeks. “I want this.” Looking in her eyes, he stroked her cheek with his thumb as he told her, “I want us.”

She said, where’d you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can miss I want something just like this

I want something just…like…this…

Bucky leaned against the headboard, wet hair pulled into a bun at the base of his neck. He was clad in a pair of sweatpants, his thumbs stroking her outer thighs. Y/N sat in his lap, wet hair only semi dry. She was wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and his baggy jacket. Her breathing had calmed down and even though her eyes were still red and puffy, she didn’t seem nearly as upset as she had been earlier.

Her hands absentmindedly traced the muscles on his chest, earning an amused smirk from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, shifting her gaze from his chest to his eyes.

Bucky shrugged absentmindedly, tilting his head. “We just…” He sighed. “I think it’s kinda cool that we match.”

Y/N laughed at that, allowing him to take her metal hand in his own. It was weird. The appendages were made of metal and yet they could oh so faintly feel the other. It was as if the nerves still kind of existed for them. And their hands? They still fit. Shuri had gone out of her way to make it feel like they…fit.

Or did that even have anything to do with her?

“You’re weird,” Y/N murmured. “You know that?”

“Maybe, but I’m your weirdo.” Bucky brought her metal hand to him, kissing the wrist. He looked up at her, tracing the back of her hand with his thumb. A part of him wanted to ask what it was like. He knew the process, faintly remembered his own. While he now loved the metal arm, looked t it as a part of him rather than something to loath, he knew getting to that point wasn’t easy. 

“Shuri had to try a few different ones because of my powers. I kept frying the joints, accidentally shocking myself, causing hypothermia for the rest of my arm when the metal got to cold…” She trailed off, clearly not wanting to continue talking about it.

He nodded, understanding that it could be difficult. Maybe someday he could learn more. At least he hoped for that. “Will you let me help? With the physical therapy?”

Y/N shrugged. “If you want.”

Bucky smiled. “I do. I want to be there for you, Y/N. As much as you’ll let me.”

Biting her lip, Y/N pulled her hand away and reached for the zipper of the jacket. Slowly, her hand undid the zip as Bucky watched it travel further and further down. When he noticed she started to take it off, he looked back to her face. He knew she wasn’t ready for him to see all her scars. He would understand and respect that.

However, it was a little difficult when he noticed she shrugged it off her shoulders. Clad in nothing but a pair of panties, she held his gaze and brought his flesh hand to the joint where metal met skin. “You can look,” she whispered. 

Bucky nodded, shifting slightly. He looked down at her hand and brought it to his shoulder. His hand lightly ran along her arm, tracing the risen scars, the gnarled, twisted parts that hadn’t healed the way they should have. Leaning forward, Bucky pressed gentle kisses along each part where the bone had broken through, going higher and higher until he kissed her shoulder.

Glancing up at her, he noticed the way she was gnawing at her lip and had her eyes squeezed shut. She was nervous, scared that he wouldn’t like this part of her. “Y/N, please,” he murmured. “Look at me.” A moment passed and then another. Y/N opened her eyes and smiled ever so slightly when they met his stormy blues. 

His hand ran along her ribcage, barely brushing against the worst of the damage. He leaned back and she did the same. The window allowed the softest bit of sunlight to cast a hue of yellow on the twisted skin. Looking at it made him hurt. If the slice had been a simple cut, it would’ve healed the same. It would’ve been nice and simple, maybe something she would never have to notice. Instead, the bone had shredded her skin. Now that it had healed, traveling from her back to the middle of her ribs, he noticed how it rose and dipped like varying forms of a mountainous skyline. He traced from her back, the small dips and curves to the particularly high spike and low dip as it came to her hip, then how it went just a little higher, curving under her breast. It hadn’t healed properly. Not in the slightest. She would forever carry the reminder of what Thanos had done not only in her memories, but on her body.

Bucky’s thumb ran along the curve under her breast, looking up at her. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffled the slightest bit. “I’m trying not to cry,” she told him, choking on the words.

“I know,” he whispered, nodding. “I understand.” Leaning forward, he wrapped his hand completely around her and pulled her as close as possible. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. All of you.”

A sob raked through her and she shook her head, covering her face in her hands. She wanted to argue, but she knew better. Taking a slow breath, she dropped her hands and leaned forward. Her lips slanted over his in a gentle kiss as she pushed him to lay down. His hand wove in her hair, the other splayed across her back as he kissed her back with every bit of passion she had given him. 

Y/N was the first to break the kiss. She trailed light kisses along his neck and shoulder, earning a small sound of content from Bucky as he craned his neck. He relaxed, murmuring something she couldn’t quite understanding. Hands running along his chest, she kissed along his jaw before leaning back. He opened his mouth to argue before pouting like one would expect from a child. Shaking her head, she ran her fingers along his brow and cheek. “I love you,” she breathed, smiling through her tears. “Buck…I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Where’d you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss I want something just like this

“Sergeant Barnes!” Shuri’s voice interrupted them, the static from the intercom earning laughter from the both of them. “Do I need to remind you that Y/N Potts has physical therapy early in the morning?”

Bucky groaned, his head nuzzling the crook of her shoulder as she pulled the sheets over their heads. He placed light kisses along her shoulders and collarbones, earning giggles from her. “Sh, she can hear that,” Bucky whispered in her ear, pressing a finger to her lips. 

“Stop,” she hissed as he kissed her cheek.

“Sergeant Barnes!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky cried out, knowing full well that Shuri was being a little shit and just timing herself. She was lucky with stuff like that. Surely she’d give up soon enough. “Just give it a couple minutes,” he murmured, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach. “She’ll go away.”

“We can hear you,” Shuri’s crackling voice came over the intercom once more.

“Wanna bet?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, nuzzling her stomach with his nose. “Just ignore her.”

“Easy for you to say!” She looked down at his cheshire cat grin, her cheeks flushing when he disappeared between her legs.

“Sergeant Barnes!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, waving her hand. The water from the glass on her nightstand flung itself to the intercom, freezing upon contact. “Goodnight, Shuri!”

Bucky’s laughter echoed in her ears, rumbling against her skin as Y/N finally let herself live again.

Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something… Just like this

[aion-rsa]

How Double Dragon’s Abobo Became a Beat em up Legend

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In the late ’80s, video games started featuring over-the-top, meaty musclemen. Metro City had Mike Haggar, a shirtless former wrestler who became mayor and decided that being “tough on crime” meant ridding the streets of criminals with his bare hands, his girlfriend’s psycho boyfriend, and a ninja in Nikes. Circus strongman Karnov scoured the world for adventure and treasure, fighting all kinds of mythical monsters. Bald Bull was trying to dominate both the boxing ring and the arm-wrestling circuit. Gutsman was a jacked construction robot who was later rebuilt as a 40-foot-tall tank centaur.

And then there was Abobo, the gigantic antagonist from Double Dragon. He wasn’t THE antagonist. Hell, in the first game, you fight him within the first two minutes. Despite his low-level status, he’s still far more fondly remembered than the main Double Dragon bad guys like Willy and the Shadow Master. There’s just always been something about this random brute that’s made him special.

Abobo’s journey begins in the original Double Dragon, Technos’ 1987 arcade hit. The game’s story is very simple. A dystopian, lawless, post-nuclear war version of New York City has been overrun by a gang called the Black Warriors or Shadow Warriors or Black Shadow Warriors. (They kind of workshop that name from game to game.) Billy and Jimmy Lee are two martial arts brothers whose mutual friend Marian is captured by gang members. Off they go to lay out everyone in that gang with their bare fists and occasional barrel/whip/knife/baseball bat.

While the cannon fodder is mostly made up of normal-sized guys, out walks Abobo, who makes his entrance by punching his way through a brick wall. From the moment he appears on screen, it’s clear Abobo is meant to stand apart from the rest. He has longer reach, takes more hits, can’t be thrown, and is able to throw Billy and Jimmy like ragdolls. The only guy more dangerous than Abobo is Willy, the final boss, who brings a machine gun to a fist fight.

Weirdly, Abobo has various forms in the game. His initial form is as a bald, pale guy with a mustache. Soon after, we fight Jick, an Abobo clone who closely resembles Mr. T. Later, we face off against an Incredible Hulk version of Abobo. This is post-nuclear war, so I suppose this tracks.

But it was NES port that really delivered the ultimate form of Abobo, whose appearance was seriously altered for the 8-bit console. With orange-brown skin, Abobo is still bigger than everyone else, but also looks inhuman. He has a giant, bald head almost the size of his bulky torso, and a black arch on his face that is apparently a mustache merged with a frown! While the NES version had its own quasi-fighting game mode with everyone redrawn with a bigger and better sprite, Abobo looked exactly the same. You just can’t mess with perfection!

Abobo sort-of-but-not-really appeared in the sequel, 1988’s Double Dragon II: The Revenge. In a game filled with giant enemies, there was a guy named Bolo who looked exactly like Abobo, but with long, black hair. Actually, in retrospect, he looks a lot like Danny Trejo.

Huh.

Abobo sat out of the next few Double Dragon games, as the Lee brothers busied themselves fighting mummies and chubby clowns. But he returned in a very unexpected crossover: 1993’s Battletoads/Double Dragon: The Ultimate Team. The game featured a bizarre team-up between the Dark Queen from Battletoads and the Shadow Warriors. As Double Dragon didn’t have too many memorable boss characters that could stack up to the likes of a giant rat in a singlet, they went with what they could get.

As with the other bosses in the crossover gamer, Abobo was depicted as an absolute giant compared to the Lee Brothers and the Toads. He was also very generic-looking, appearing as a shirtless, bald guy with no ‘stache. Due to the sci-fi nature of the crossover, his storyline ended with him getting booted off a spaceship and sent spiraling through space itself.

1993 also gave us the Double Dragon animated series. Somehow, this thing ran for two seasons (26 episodes) and Abobo was there from the beginning. The first episode was a weird Saturday morning-style retelling of the NES game’s plot, down to Billy Lee having to fight his “evil” brother at the end. Abobo acted as a henchman, alongside a very colorful take on Willy.

In the cartoon, Abobo was a bald muscleman with blue skin, meaning he has the same mysterious complexion situation as Captain N’s King Hippo. Abobo was also strangely competent on the show, all things considered, although the only fighting he ever did was throw oil drums at Billy and miss every single time. He spent more of his time annoyed at Willy, who was depicted as a psychotic cowboy with a laser gun — one-half Yosemite Sam and one-half the Interrupter from Late Night with Conan O’Brien.

The second episode introduced the Shadow Master, who immediately showed disgust at his underlings’ failure by magically bonding Willy to a giant mural of punished souls. Abobo tried to run for it, but succumbed to the same fate. The two would remain in that mural for the rest of the series.

While there was a fighting game released based off of the Double Dragon cartoon, Abobo wasn’t part of the roster. It was just as well. Double Dragon V: The Shadow Falls was a really bad game and Abobo had bigger things on the horizon.

Abobo was about to go Hollywood!

In 1994, Imperial Entertainment Group released the Double Dragon movie, a total cheesefest that couldn’t make back its $8 million budget. But Robert Patrick’s scenery-chewing main villain made the movie almost watchable. The story takes place in a version of Los Angeles that’s a cross between The Warriors and No Man’s Land from the Batman comics. Billy and Jimmy are teens who get roped into a plot that involves two dragon-shaped necklaces that form an all-power medallion when put together.

Initially, Nils Allen Stewart plays the gang leader Bo Abobo. As head of the Mohawk Gang, he’s there to act all intimidating in a goofy ’90s bully sort of way, but he really doesn’t actually do much. He takes part in a car chase and teases a fight scene, but nothing happens.

Then, the villain Koga Shuko transforms him into a literal steroid freak with some experimental machine. From there on out, Abobo is played by Henry Kingi in a bloated, rubber suit. Despite being a muscle golem at this point, Abobo STILL doesn’t actually fight anyone and is instead kidnapped by Power Corps.

Abobo eventually sees what he looks like in the mirror. Broken over what he’s been transformed into, he turns on Koga and…still doesn’t fight anyone. He just gives Power Corps some advice to help turn the tide against the bad guys. At the end of the movie, he asks the Lee Brothers if they could be buddies and recklessly drives their car.

Yeah, it’s…almost something. Not the awfulness of Super Mario Bros, but not the good-for-the-time quality of Mortal Kombat. It’s also not quite as fun-bad as the Street Fighter movie, but it does share one major similarity to it.

Much like Street Fighter, the Double Dragon movie had its own fighting game spinoff. Rather than a one-on-one fighter featuring digitized actors (which was the original idea until it wasn’t deemed viable for the deadline), Technos put together a Neo Geo animated fighter that isn’t so well-known these days due to how run-of-the-mill it was. It looked like your average SNK fighting game, with no real identity of its own. The game was released for arcade, Neo Geo CD, and PlayStation.

The 1995 fighting game was loosely based on the movie’s plot and featured some FMV clips. Showing up from the movie are Billy Lee, Jimmy Lee, Marian, Shuko, and Abobo. The rest of the roster is made up of original characters, though Technos did redesign Burnov, the Big Van Vader-looking boss character from Double Dragon II: The Revenge. Abobo more closely resembles his initial, more human-looking form from the movie, complete with mohawk, although he’s cartoonishly big in the game. Fortunately, he occasionally transforms into his blobby, tumor-like mutant form during certain moves and winposes.

His ending in the game features him eating a lot of meat at a restaurant, demanding to eat meat so rough that it’ll make his teeth bleed. Heh. And Roger Ebert said video games aren’t art.

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After the inexplicable crossover, animated series, failed movie, and fighting game tie-ins, Double Dragon as a franchise was finally spent. As the arcade scene died down in the late ’90s, the side-scrolling beat ‘em up disappeared for a time, and it would be a little while before nostalgia for it would kick in.

Fortunately, there was still some juice left in the fighting game genre, and in 2002 the Neo Geo had just enough time left before SNK’s hardware line was discontinued. The company Evoga developed what was, for a time, meant to be a Double Dragon fighting game, but ultimately the team wasn’t able to secure the rights and was forced to make the game with a knockoff cast of characters. The result was Rage of the Dragons, a tag-team fighting game featuring Billy Lewis, Jimmy Lewis, and Abubo…

Abubo does not have a tag partner and is instead a mid-boss so powerful that it takes two opponents to stop him. He’s depicted as a low-level mob boss with a ponytail, sunglasses, pink tank top, and overly-long, muscular arms. It’s a decent enough redesign of the original, but…Abubo? That’s the best they could come up with?

As for the official Double Dragon, it made its comeback a year later. Double Dragon Advance for the Game Boy Advance took the original arcade version, updated the graphics just enough, added more stages, enemies, and attacks, turning this installment into a souped-up take on the classic. This of course meant the return of the real Abobo!

2012 would be a banner year for the musclebound henchman. Since 2002, I-Mockery’s Roger Barr had been trying to develop an Abobo-based fangame, and in early 2012, the free-to-play masterpiece Abobo’s Big Adventure was released to the public and we were better for it.

Using 8-bit graphics, the game follows Abobo as he searches for his kidnapped son Aboboy. Each level is based on a different NES title and features a dizzying amount of Easter eggs. There’s a Double Dragon level, underwater Super Mario Bros. level, Urban Champ, Legend of Zelda, Balloon Fight, Pro Wrestling, Mega Man, Contra, and finally Punch-Out. The game is an absolute blast, especially for anyone who grew up with the NES and features such whacked out moments as:

Abobo mating with the mermaid from Goonies 2, which gives him a forcefield powerup made up of Abobo/mermaid hybrid babies, one of which begs for death!

An Abobo vs. Amazon wrestling match that includes the summoning of Hulk Hogan, Ultimate Warrior, Roddy Piper, and Undertaker assists in the form of Pro Wrestling sprites.

Taking on Krang’s giant robot body with Kirby in the abdominal area.

An incredibly long and over-the-top ending that gets extremely and laughably violent. If you’ve ever wanted to see a muscular child drink blood from the Shredder’s dismembered arm, this game is for you!

In terms of OFFICIAL nostalgia, 2012 also saw the release of Double Dragon Neon for the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 (and later PC). Using 3D graphics, the game was a modern update of Double Dragon’s playstyle while playing up the 1980s aesthetic. It was a lot more ridiculous than the original series. In fact, it’s more in line with the Battletoads crossover since this game also lets you launch Abobo into the deep recesses of outer space to die.

This game also gave us the first – and, as of this writing, only – polygon Abobo. This time a towering, hunched over brute with lots of spiked armbands. All that AND the mustache!

But of those two 2012 releases, Abobo’s Big Adventure is surprisingly the better game in terms of its portrayal of the big man, as it solidified his status as nostalgic beat em up icon.

In 2017, Arc System Works put together Double Dragon IV for the PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch, and PC. Rather than emulate the arcade original’s aesthetic, the game took its art style from the NES games. That meant the return of the classic NES Abobo as not only a recurring enemy but an unlockable playable character. Double Dragon IV actually lets you play through the story mode as various enemy characters, but honestly, who else would you pick in that situation? Well, maybe Burnov.

Sadly, playing as Abobo in Double Dragon IV leads to a non-ending. I know you can’t improve on “Abobo punches Little Mac’s head off so hard it transcends time and space,” but at least TRY!

Around the same time, another game tried to play up Abobo’s ironic/iconic status. River City Ransom: Underground was released for the PC in early 2017. The River City Ransom series has always had ties to Double Dragon, but this high school brawler goes the extra mile by putting Abobo on a big pedestal. First off, he’s the school principal. If you attack any of your teachers, you’re sent to Principal Abobo’s office to suffer a serious slap on the wrist, shoulder, jaw, spine, etc. Sometimes he’ll even enter classrooms by punching holes through the brick walls, all while shirtless and talking like the Hulk.

Even better than that? Abobo’s not only the school principal but the Mayor of River City! No wonder everyone’s always kicking the shit out of each other! God bless Mayor Mike Haggar for being a true trendsetter.

The Double Dragon/River City connection only grew stronger when 2019 brought the absolutely must-play River City Girls. As the story goes, River City Ransom heroes Kunio and Riki have been kidnapped, so their badass girlfriends Misako and Kyoko go on a violent rampage to save them. Early in the game, while Misako and Kyoko fighting in a classroom, there’s a projector playing a short film about a boy learning about puberty.

It just so happens that the kid in the video is being taught by Abobo, who thanks puberty for his monstrous size and strength. This, my friends, is foreshadowing, as Abobo shows up later in the game as a boss.

Misako and Kyoko confront Abobo about their missing boyfriends, and Abobo admits that he isn’t sure whether or not he kidnapped them since he kidnaps a LOT of people. They throw down and we’re treated to the most powerful take on Abobo yet, considering the length of his life bar. Once defeated, Abobo admits that he has nothing to do with the missing boyfriends, but gives the heroes a lead by talking about his side job as security for an upcoming concert.

In 2020, Arc System Works released a collection for PS4 and Switch called Double Dragon & Kunio-Kun Retro Brawler Bundle. It collects 18 8-bit games, including the three NES Double Dragon games, River City Ransom, and all the old spinoffs from the River City Ransom universe. And who’s on the cover?

Yes, despite technically being in one game out of 18, and not even being the final boss of any of them, Abobo gets a major spot on the cover of this huge collection among the games’ hero characters. Finally, the world understands that Abobo is a star. Now we just need Abobo to appear in Guilty Gear Strive and then we’ll really be cooking.

The post How Double Dragon’s Abobo Became a Beat em up Legend appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[thoughtslikeaminefield]

Author Tag Game

Tagged by: @slytherkins xoxoxxx

Author name: mjinaspen, incog_ninja, thoughtslikeaminefield

Fandoms you write for: BTVS, TXF, Twilight, TWD, Reedus, Supernatural, Lucifer, Keanu Reeves, The Boys.  

Where you post:  Years ago, I posted at FFn. (I don’t even go there anymore.) Now, AO3 and here.

Most popular one-shot: We Be All Night (Norman Reedus x reader). SPN - tie between Deep (Dean Winchester x reader) and Wait Till My Brother Gets Home (Sam x OFC x Dean).

Most popular multi-chap: Hold On (Beth Greene x Daryl Dixon). SPN - tie between Bottle Service (J2 x OFC), I Won’t Let You Fall Apart (Sam Winchester x reader), and Seasons (Dean Winchester x unnamed female character).

Favourite story: Ugh, it’s hard to choose a favorite of my own; so many of them are so, so special for unique reasons. I love Seasons. I also feel so incredibly close to Bottle Service and its sequel Full Service. I think the one fic that pops into my head every time this question (or something similar) is asked, though, is Shattered Like A Stone (Demon Dean x OFC).

Story you were most nervous to post: Probably my first Supernatural one-shot Wrecked but Angeles and In For A Penny had me nervous as well because I thought y’all’d come after me with torches and pitchforks for cheating and implied cheating. lol. 

How you pick your titles: Usually song titles or lyrics bc music is a heavy influence in my *creative process.

*I’m very important. I have a CREATIVE PROCESS.

Do you outline? Sort of. Sometimes. I usually start with a line, a scene, a concept or a collection of those, throw it into a doc and run.

Complete stories: Over 100. 

In Progress: omg lollllllllll

Coming Soon: I’m finishing my @spnkinkbingo squares, so there’s that. Also, I’m thinking about how to jump back into my mess of an unfinished Bethyl fic that @rckyfrk might be able to help me with.

Prompts: Sure. But I can’t promise anything, so I’m not officially ‘taking requests’.

Upcoming story you are most excited for: The epilogue crossing over I Won’t Let You Fall Apart and Seasons.

Five authors: @glassjacket @boondoctorwho @icemankazansky @stusbunker @fatestemptress

[killswitchwrites]

Take It All Back

Dean x Reader

Summary: Strength can look like a lot of things. Sometimes it’s being strong enough to walk away. Other times it means sticking it out. In Y/n’s case, it means a little of both. Sequel to One Last Moment.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Canon level violence, blood, angst, and language.

Beta’d by: @pinknerdpanda & @trexrambling

A/N:  This was written for Ang’s “Fierce Females in FanFiction” Challenge. My prompt was, “you made your choice and I made mine. Just because you can’t live with yours doesn’t mean you can shame me for living with mine.” It’s bolded within the fic.  This is a continuation of my fic, One Last Moment.

Sorry it’s so close to the wire @atc74 , my muse has been an elusive bitch.

“Exorcizamus te omnis immu-”

“I’m really going to enjoy taking everything from you,” the demon snarls. The cheerful pastel of her outfit makes her threat seem absurd.

“Lucky for me, I don’t have anything to take. Not anymore.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You know, lying to a Sunday School teacher is extra bad,” she giggles.

A knot forms in my gut. She can’t possibly know about him. I’ve covered my tracks. I know I’ve covered them, but a small wisp of doubt creeps into the back of my mind. Maybe. Maybe someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

“I can’t wait to wear his skin-” she gargles the blood in her mouth before spitting it at my feet- “so many perfect little freckles,” she finishes with a hiss and a maniacal smile.

When I found this demon, I had high hopes of sparing the possessed woman. His perfect face flashes into my memory. If I save the woman, I risk losing him forever.

I force myself to take an even breath before asking, “Who?”

“A lady never kisses and tells.”

“If you talk, I can make this quick for you.” Moonlight glints on the blade in my hand. “If you don’t…”

The demon squirms. “Where’d you get that?”

“I love thrift stores. You just never know what you’ll find.”

“You found an angel blade-” she shifts in her chair- “at a thrift store?”

“So what’ll it be, quick or slow?”

“I’ve always liked it slow,” she purrs.

___

Three times. That’s how many tries I make at unlocking my phone before I realize there’s too much blood on my hand for it to recognize my fingerprint.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Six years ago I turned my back on the only man I’d ever loved, the only man who had only ever loved me. I was done. I got out.

I finally get my phone unlocked and dial by memory. My heart beats faster with each ring. Just when I’m positive my heart will explode, Siobhan answers.

“Blessed b-”

“Cut the crap, Siobhan, it’s me.”

“Oh. What do you want? I’m a little busy.”

“Someone in your coven has a loose tongue, and I plan on cutting it out.”

“I’m positive you are mistaken. We’ve held up our end of the deal. It’s become apparent that you have not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Irene is dead. Her daughter made it back to tell us of her untimely demise before succumbing to her own wounds.”

“Did she know the doer?”

“No. She only said that they used witch killing bullets.”

“I’ll find who’s responsible and take care of it. In the meantime, up your warding around the house and keep an eye out.”

I don’t even need a full hand to count the number of hunters that know how to make witch killing bullets. One is me. The other two I had never planned on running into ever again.

___

“I’m telling ya, Sammy, I got her. It’s only a matter of time before she bleeds out.”

“That’s just perfect, Dean. If it weren’t for the fact that we needed her to find the coven.”

“Ok, fine, it’ll take a little longer than we planned. But hey, at least there’s free cable.”

Their bickering carries through the thin wood of the door. I kick back in my chair and prop my feet on the table, trying my best to sell the nonchalant vibe I am most certainly not feeling.

Dean shoulders through the motel door, freezing when he sees me.

Sam curses under his breath as he collides with his brother. “What the hell, Dean?”

A myriad of emotions rapidly shift Dean’s features before he settles on feigned indifference. “Get your dirty boots off the table, Y/n, people eat there.”

“Y/n?” Sam swipes the hair from his eyes and tucks it behind one ear. A face splitting grin amplifies his dimples. His smile quickly falters when I don’t return it.

I stay where I am. Feet propped up in defiance. “You guys need to leave town.”

Dean walks behind me on the way to the mini fridge, pulling on the back of my chair as he goes.

I pinwheel my arms and slam my feet to the floor in order to keep from falling over backward.

Sam nearly smirks, but manages to catch himself in the nick of time when I shoot him a glare. Dean, however, outright barks a laugh.

 “Listen here, you ass.” I feel my cheeks heat. “I’m not here to play games. You’re not welcome here and you need to leave. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Doesn’t really seem like you’re asking, Y/n.” Dean cracks open a beer and throws the cap in the direction of the sink. “Besides, we kind of like it here. Don’t we, Sammy? And leaving is more your sort of thing. If I’m not mistaken,” he adds with an icy glare.

Clenching my fists, I dig my nails into my palms and focus on the sharp sting so that I can keep my voice from wavering. “If you ever loved me, Dean, you’ll leave tonight and never come back.”

All of the color drains from Dean’s face.

“Are you in some sort of trouble, Y/n?” Sam asks, finally finding his voice.

“It’s trouble that I’m trying to avoid, Sam.” I head towards the door, pausing to rest a hand on Sam’s chest. “Please. Get him as far away from here as you can.”

I beeline for the door, hoping to make it back to my car before the tears burning my eyes fall. I make it exactly four steps across the parking lot when I hear the scuff of Dean’s stride behind me.  

“Tell me why.”

I freeze, midstep. “Because,” I weigh my next words carefully mustering as much venom as I’m capable of, “because everything you touch dies.”

I turn to face him, and his pained look is more than I can bear. But I press on, I have to. The stakes are too high for me to give in. I add the final nail to my coffin of lies.

“You’re a curse, Dean Winchester, and I wish I had never met you.”

I don’t stay to witness the fallout, but I imagine it looks the same as my shredded heart feels.

___

“It is done?” Siobhan drawls.

“I took care of the hunters. They’re not going to be a problem anymore. Do we still have a deal?”

“Your child will continue to receive the benefits of our protection. For as long as we have yours.”

I release a sigh. “How is he?”

“He grows in strength and beauty every day.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“He remains unaware of his lineage.”

There are so many more questions I want to ask, but the less I know the better, the safer he is.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I answer it without checking the ID.

“Don’t hang up!” Sam blurts.

“Sam? How did you get this number?”

“That’s not really important right now. Have you seen Dean?”

“Not since this morning.”

“He went out to grab a drink, and he’s not picking up his phone. I’ve been to every dive bar in town. I can’t find him.”

“He’s probably just shacked up with some floozy for the night. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Sam. He’ll probably roll in in the morning, no worse for the wear.”

“You don-” he sighs-”he’s not like that anymore. Not since you left. Please, Y/n, just help me find him and I’ll never bother you again.”

My heart twists. “Have you tried tracking his phone?”    

____

“You’re positive this is the place?” I take in the gothic architecture and broken stained glass. It’s not technically a church anymore, but it’s still the last place I’d expect to find Dean on a Saturday night.

“This is the only place near the tower his phone pinged from just before I lost the signal.”

“Maybe his phone just died. You know he forgets to put it on the charger.”

“It was off, and then it was on, and then it was off again. Something else is going on; I know you can sense it too.”

“I think you’ve watched Star Wars one too many times, Obi Wan, because I’m not sensing anything. Other than the extreme dissatisfaction that I haven’t been able to remove my bra for the night.”

Sam snorts a laugh. “One quick sweep of the place.” He checks the clip on his weapon and chambers a round. “And if I’m wrong, you’ll be home in your pajamas in no time.”

I double check my weapon before following after him with a grumble. With my luck, he’s probably right and this night is going to go tits up real fast.

Sam waits for me by the heavy wooden entry doors. All merriment has been stripped from his face and replaced with grim calculation. With a tip of his head he motions to the trail of blood that disappears under the door.  

Stepping over the gruesome trail, I pull open the door and pray it doesn’t creak and give us away. Sam slips through and I follow, nearly colliding with him.

I step around him and follow his line of sight. At the front of the church, behind the pulpit, where usually there’s a sculpture of Christ on the cross- there’s Dean. He’s been stripped of his shirt and suspended upside down. There’s a puddle under him, and fresh blood drips from the wounds on his chest to join it. He doesn’t appear to be conscious. He better not be dead. I’ll kill him for being so reckless.

Sam nudges me, and I split off to the right while he takes the left.

The only place for someone to hide is the confessionals, and I quickly clear them. Whoever did this is in the wind.    

“Dean?” Sam whispers, reaching his brother.

Dean responds with a low groan. The sound sends relief flooding through my system, and I rush forward to help Sam.

“Hold on, man, we’re gonna get you down.” Sam’s voice is tight with worry.

By the time we get him loaded into the car, we’re all covered in his blood.

“I’ll sit in the back with him,” I offer, sliding into the backseat and settling Dean’s head in my lap.   

Like it’s second nature, my fingers stroke through his hair to comfort him. “Just hang in there, Dean, we’ll get you patched up.”

Dean nuzzles into my touch and drifts off. I close my eyes, and I can almost pretend it’s just like old times. His pained grunt when Sam hits a pothole reminds me that it’s not. Everything’s different now. Everything’s wrong.

___

Sam and I get Dean on his bed back at the hotel where we silently work to piece him back together. Most of the cuts are superficial, intended to elicit pain, not death.

“Who would do this, Sam?” I ask while double checking the tape on the dressings.

“It’s not like we have a shortage of enemies-” he pauses- “though we did just take out a couple of witches. This could be retaliation.”

“It’s not them,” I mutter.

“Wait, you know the coven we’re tracking?”

“Huh?” Shit. I exhale. “They’re not bad people. I have a deal with them. I offer them protection and they do the same for me.”

Sam’s look is cold. “I never thought you’d be the type to work with witches, Y/n.”

“Well neither did I, Sam, but a lot of things have changed that I never thought would.”

“What else have you guys been hunting in the area?”

“Nothing. The coven is what brought us here. You?”

“I found a couple of low level demons sniffing around. I handled them.”

“By the looks of Dean it would seem that their buddies are a little pissed.”

Dean groans in his sleep and, instinctively, I reach to comfort him.

“Looks like not everything has changed,” Sam points out.

I withdraw my hand. “Some habits die hard.”

“Dean never told me why you left.”

I shrug. “I couldn’t do it anymore, Sam. The ones we couldn’t save kept piling up.”

“Yet, here you are.”

“Yeah. Here I am.”

Sam stifles a yawn.

“Why don’t you grab some sleep? I’ll sit with Dean.”

“Are you sure you wanna stay?”

“I need to. Just until I know he’s okay.”

“I’ll go grab something to eat. Dean’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

Once Sam leaves I slip beside Dean, laying close enough to feel his body heat but not close enough to disturb him. The constellations of freckles on his shoulders and chest peek out from the edges of the bandages. I still remember the names I gave them the last time I laid in bed with him.

A tear rolls down the side of my nose and silently lands on the pillow. I scoot a little closer to him and rest my head on his chest, over his heart. I focus on the steady rhythm beneath my ear, and it quiets the chatter in my head. I’d almost forgotten how still my mind could be.

Dean nuzzles into my hair with a sigh and, for one split second, I wish with everything in my soul that I could take it all back. All the hurt. The pain. The fights. The lies.

Even though he remains still, I feel him wake up. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” I whisper.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean it. You’ve always been a crap liar.”

“Have not.” I sit up and discreetly dab my nose with my sleeve.

Dean chuckles and then quickly sucks in a breath with a grimace.

“Serves you right for teasing me.”

An uncomfortable silence fills the space between us. Dean is the one to break it.

“Mind telling me why the demons you pissed off came after me? And why they’d think I’m hiding someone for you.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I nearly lost my spleen. I think I deserve to know why, Y/n.”

Panic writhes like snakes in the pit of my stomach. “You’re right.”

I suck in a breath and move a little farther from him. “I need you to know I never meant for any of this to happen, and by the time I found out it was too late. I’d already left and it’s not like I could go back. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Spit it out.”

“It’s easier if I show you.” I dig my phone from my front pocket and swipe to the film reel before handing over the phone to Dean.

“His name is Thomas, and he’s almost six.”

Dean’s eyebrow knit together, and then his eyes blow wide. “What is this, Y/n?!” I scramble to move away from him, but he grips my wrist to keep me right where I am. “How could you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” my nose runs freely and I ignore it, “it just happened, and I’ve wanted to tell you so many times. But I just… couldn’t.”

“You had no right,” he growls.

“I had every right, Dean.” I wrench my arm from his grip and stand on wobbly legs. “I may have left, but you let me. You made your choice and I made mine. Just because you can’t live with yours doesn’t mean you can shame me for living with mine.”

“Choice?” he scoffs. “How could I possibly make a choice when I didn’t have all of the information?!”

Dean jumps from the bed, quickly doubling over.

“Just perfect. Now you’ve pulled your stitches! Get back in bed!”

I shove him towards the bed and he slaps away my hands.

“No! I want to see my son.”

I shove again and he collapses with a heavy thud. “You can’t see him. Not now. Not ever.”

“Bullshit. You don’t get to make that choice for me. Not anymore, Y/n.”

“He doesn’t even know you exist!”

Once again, Dean looks like I stabbed him directly in the heart- and twisted. “You didn’t even tell him about me? Where does he think his dad is?”

“You died in a car crash when he was just a baby… and so did I.”

“What?” he whispers, shocked. “You… abandoned him?”

“I didn’t abandon him, Dean. I gave him up to people that could protect him.”

“Where is he, Y/n?”

I suck in a breath and wrap my arms around my stomach. “He’s with the coven you and Sam are here hunting.”

“You gave our child to witches?!”

“I didn’t have a choice! From the moment he was born it was like he was a beacon to everything that went bump in the night! I couldn’t keep him safe. I wasn’t enough.”

“We could’ve kept him safe. Together.”

“Yeah, because you would’ve given up hunting, bought a house in suburbia and, what?  Punched a clock for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t know, okay! I don’t know what I would’ve done!” He runs his hands through his hair. “But I would’ve done something.”

“Well, I did do something. I found people strong enough to protect him. And as long as I protect the coven, they’ve agreed to shield his essence.”

“So we’re supposed to, what, forget about him?”

Hesitantly, I move forward and sit on the edge of the bed. “We do what our parents couldn’t do for us. We keep him as far from this life as we can.”  

“But,” tears spring into his eyes, “it’s not- it shouldn’t be like this.”

I take his hands in mine and twine our fingers. We sit in the painful silence surrounding us, both afraid to speak- afraid of the words we might say.

When I can take it no longer, I slip my hand from his. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Dean.”

He opens his mouth to speak, rethinks, and then closes it.

I jump to my feet and rush out of the door before he can say all the hateful things I know I deserve.

My stupid hands are shaking so badly by the time I get to my car that I can’t get the key in the door lock. “Dammit!” I punch the roof of the car, first in frustration, and then again because the pain it causes momentarily distracts me from the pain in my chest.

Warm arms that I immediately recognize as Dean’s encircle me, and I collapse into them with a sob.

Quickly, he spins me. Before I can register what’s happening his lips are pressed to mine. The salty taste of tears mixes with the taste of Dean, and I melt against his chest.

When he gives a pained grunt, I remember his injuries and pull away.

“Shit,” I gasp, checking his bandages. “Your stitches.”

“Screw my stitches,” he mumbles, pulling my hands back around his neck and pinning me against the car with his hips. “I’m not letting you leave, Y/n. Not again.”

“Bu-” I start to protest, and he silences me with another press of his lips.

Dean swipes his tongue along the seam of my lips and all thoughts of protesting flee my mind. I’m going to kiss him just like I’ve dreamed of kissing him every night since I left.

I don’t know what the future holds for us, perhaps no one does. But for tonight, at least, I’m going to pretend that we found a way to take it all back- and just maybe, if we’re really lucky,  move forward.

Need more Dean? Click HERE 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey there :) I was wondering if you have any fics where Moriarty (or any villain really) kidnaps John/Sherlock and the other has to try to find them?

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: hi! do you have any fic recs where sherlock is the one that’s captured for something and john has to save him?

Hi Nonnies!!

Oh, I don’t have many, so I’ll give you all the kidnapping & related fics I have! Most of them are on FFnet, since that’s when I used to read a lot of angst, LOL. Hope these satisfy! Feel free to add your own, all!

KIDNAPPING, HOSTAGE, & STALKING

Imminent by LoyalPaddler (K+, 1K+w || Kidnapping, Open Ending) – What did it say about a person if he recognized the feeling of waking up concussed, blindfolded, and handcuffed to a chair? Probably not good, that.

Not a Soldier by LoyalPaddler (T, 1K+ w. || HC / Pre-S3, Nice!Mary, Hostage Situation) – A day on the battlefield with Sherlock Holmes.

Odd and Even by katkin (K+, 1K+w. || Post-TBB, Friendship) – Sherlock helps John to come to terms with the ordeal of his kidnapping.

Persuasion by Januscars (K+, 1K+ w. || Friendship, Crime, Angry Sherlock, Hostage John) – A gunman holds a gun to John’s head, and Sherlock proves to be very persuasive when he wants to be… 

In Which John is a BAMFy MoFo, OMG! by Kantayra (T, 1,835 w. || Humour) – John’s BAMFness and Sherlock’s damsel-in-distress act are caught forever on camera. So Scotland Yard can mock. A lot.

All in a Day by chappysmom (K+, 2K+ w. || Kidnapping, Sherlock POV) – Oddly enough, it seemed like this time, Sherlock had been kidnapped for no other reason than to pressure John. In other words, this had nothing to do with him. Really, this on top of the blow to the head was enough to make him dizzy.

It’s All Fine by AkoyaMizuno (T, 2K+ w. || Post-TGG, Introspection, Mild Angst, Friendship) – Sherlock never asked what happened in the hours between John being kidnapped and the events at the pool. It occurs to him, days after the fact, that he probably should have.

Doesn’t Follow Me Everywhere by Janec Shannon (T, 3K+ w. || Humour and Friendship) – "He doesn’t follow me everywhere, you know.“ Silly John, of course he does what with your penchant for getting kidnapped.

For Thou Art With Me by Ultra-Geek (T, 3K+ w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – It is a normal day. Boring, routine. Right up until John Watson walks out the door and off the face of the earth. Companion to ’And I Shall Fear No Evil’, but can stand alone

Fortune Favours the Wet by CaffieneKitty (K+, 3K+w. || Adventure, Trapped John) – There was something to be said about the quiet of the bottom of a well… Things go wrong for John during a case.

And I Shall Fear No Evil by Ultra-Geek (T, 4K+ w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – John’s been taken by an unknown enemy who will stop at nothing to find out more about one Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Companion to ‘For Thou Art With Me’, but can stand alone.

Nursery Rhymes by macrauchenia (T, 4K+ || Angst, Suspense, MCD, Unhappy Ending, Kidnapping) – “Hickory dickery dock. Sherlock’s against the clock. When the wick is gone, so will be John. Hickory dickery dock.” - John is in a struggle for his life in a warehouse rigged to blow by Moriarty.

Things Unseen and Left Unsaid by Ultra-Geek (T, 4K+ w. || Friendship, Drama, Kidnapping) – Sherlock can’t crack the riddle that is John Watson. But that’s going to have to be put on hold, as said riddle has currently been kidnapped and buried alive, and Sherlock only has seven hours to find him.

Carry On by Mazarin221b (M, 4,647 w. || 5 and Ones, H/C, Afghanistan, Frottage, Hand Jobs, First Time, Whump) – Five times John didn’t want to be carried, and one time he did.

when Harry met Sally (and then Sherlock Holmes) by Etharei (T, 5,443 w. || POV Outsider, Kidnapped John) – Harry Watson hadn’t expected the Met, and possibly the British government, to be this keen on locating her missing brother.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Drowning in Darkness by chappysmom (T, 7K+w. || Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped John, Post-TRF Hiatus / Reunion, John Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Depressed John, Background Case Fic) – He couldn’t decide if it was a relief or a curse that he’d been left completely, absolutely alone. You couldn’t fight darkness with your fists, and no matter how strong your will-power, it could be beaten down by the constant monotony of nothingness. Nobody needed John. 

The Hours Before Midnight by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 7K+w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, TGG Fic) – Moriarty doesn’t play fair. John must deal with hours of torment from Moriarty before going to meet Sherlock at the Pool at the end of the Great Game and Sherlock must deal with the consequences of his boredom.

Sibling Rivalry Or Fighting Over John Watson By Jessa7 (T, 8,085 w. || Romance / Humour) – Mycroft is just as much of a genius as Sherlock is. He keeps randomly kidnapping John for chats, and the locations get better. Cue Sherlock’s younger sibling complex rearing up and jealousy ensues.

Riddles in the Dark by Starlight05 (T, 9K+ w. || Suspense & Friendship, Torture) - When Sherlock is kidnapped by an old nemesis, it’s up to John to find him and save his life. But can he find a way to get the detective out of this mess? And will they be found in time?

To See You Again by Arisprite (T, 11K+ w. || Suspense, H/C, Supernatural) – When John wakes to a world where no one can see or hear him, it takes everything he has, including the upheaval of past mistakes to find out what happened in time to save his own life. No slash.

Fear Itself by KCS (K+, 12K+ w. || Suspense, Friendship) – John is accustomed to being kidnapped by now, but he never expected a criminal to adopt Mycroft’s method of doing so, to ensure he comes along without a fight.

The Haze by Ulura (T, 15K+ w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Whump, Turmoil, Mystery, Worried Sherlock, Mycroft Helps Sherlock, Flashbacks, Blood, Kidnapped John) – Sherlock wakes up, injured and confused on the floor of 221b, the last two days a complete blank. He must struggle not only to recover but to figure out what happened to him and most importantly, find his missing friend John Watson.

Pressure Points by Starlight05 (T, 17K+w. || Suspense & Friendship, Intense Themes, Torture) - SEQUEL TO ‘RIDDLES IN THE DARK’ – Sebastian Moran is locked away in prison, but he plots to escape and seek revenge on Mycroft Holmes. Meanwhile, Sherlock and John are dealing with a change in their relationship, trying not to fall apart. And as ties are tested and allegiances altered, events unfold in the streets of London that threaten both the Holmes brothers and everyone they care for.

Couples Retreat by Madam_Fandom (E, 18,717 w. || Fake Relationship, Undercover Couple, Case Fic, Angst, Kidnapping, Fake Marriage, Cross Dressing) – Couples are turning up missing at a very high class couples retreat; and the only way to get to the bottom of it is for John and Sherlock to go under cover as a couple. {{Haven’t read this yet, so read at your discretion}}

Too Visible by chappysmom (K+, 23K+ w. || John Becomes Invisible, THoB Rewrite, Friends, Kidnapping, Angst) – With his gift of being invisible, John has always worried about being locked away in an experimental government lab … but what do you do when it’s your best friend who locks you up? Baskerville is quite literally John’s worst nightmare-and the Hound has nothing to do with it. It’s all Sherlock’s fault, but will he realize that? Sequel to Invisible & Still Invisible

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they’ve made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Schmoop, Torture) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn’t simple.

M Is For Moriarty by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 29K+ w. || Suspense, Mystery, Case Fic, Worried Sherlock, No Slash, Whump) – A figure at the end of the hospital bed; a needle in the dark…Moriarty has John, and Sherlock must follow the paper trail through London to find him before time runs out. Sequel to BANG.

Jack In The Box by Liketheriver (T, 30,785 w. || Romance, Case Fic, H/C, Lestrade First POV) – John’s been kidnapped, Mycroft has rules, and Lestrade has to do his best to keep up with Sherlock as they deal with a returning foe. Lestrade POV as he and Sherlock work to find John, even though that’s the last thing John seems to want. Part 2 of Bedtime Universe

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w. || Five and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Homophobia, UST, Post-TRF) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger

Fan Mail by scullyseviltwin (E, 53,942 w. || Stalking, Obsessive Fans, Angst) – “WatsonChick143 has been rather maniacal in her commenting as of late… she’s left comments on everything you’ve posted John, something so obvious can’t have escaped even your attention.“

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 85,535 w. || Sentinel / Guides AU, Omegaverse, Aventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w. || H/C, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John’s kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John’s sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him.John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen {{I haven’t read this one yet so heed the tags}}

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?