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castielific · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story.

Summary:

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day.

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

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

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens.

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles.

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate.

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!"

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before.

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east.

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off.

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby.

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now.

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone.

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today.

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin.

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky.

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet.

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear.

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin.

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex?

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze.

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them.

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek.

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar.

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint.

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't.

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone.

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures.

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck.

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes.

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile.

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here.

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind.

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled.

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way,

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint.

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'.

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this.

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer.

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not.

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it.

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough.

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces.

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass.

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here.

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey.

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole.

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes.

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?"

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal.

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her.

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments.

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse.

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely.

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off.

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout.

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up.

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand?

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away.

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant.

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair.

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face.

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything.

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…".

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there.

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash.

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!"

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really.

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly.

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?"

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?"

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

"I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know.

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile.

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled.

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time.

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension.

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day...

You can read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/castiel #dean/cas #spn fic #ao3 fic #destiel fanfiction #AU #pretend/fake relationship #homeless!dean #rich!cas #myfic #my fic #castielific #castielificfic

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years ago

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The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (1/?)

What started out as an idea for a short one shot grew into a multichap that I'm almost done editing. I think 🤔 it'll be either 4 or 5 chapters long depending on how long each chapter will be after I'm done editing. Anyway, I hope you guys will enjoy.

In this fic you learn how easily things can change, but how it effects you isn't always a bad thing.

________________

Chapter 1: The Phenomenon

There was little difference to what was happening around you at the moment. There were no little green men, or yellow submarines, neither were there tangelos, or bags of golden rings, but there was a blue-haired man with plenty of dreams. Still, life was swell; summer was around the corner, and you were reading in the garage just to be near Zeta-7; he was working on his latest piece of tech, and you were distracted by his charming quirks and ticks. If you hadn't known any better, you'd say it was business as usual. Yet, it was because you had been acquainted with Rick that the previous blindspots of your world were made known to you; conscious of the rare events which were going to take place in another quadrant of space.

A phenomenon was going to occur; one which would not happen again for another 1000 years; the blooming of the Milleannos flower. Legends say that those who touch its pollen might live forever, and those who smell its perfume might be cured of all that ails them, but those claims were supposedly unsubstantiated. There was to be a gala to celebrate the occasion; all in attendance were respectable, distinguished guests and because of Rick, you were also invited, but there were rules; strict guidelines which were to be obeyed unless you wished to throw away your life. And although you weren't happy about them, you were willing to abide by them for Rick's sake. However, there were a few things you didn't understand. "Rick, why won't we be allowed to dance together?"

His hands paused their activity, and his body sagged a little; dreading the reminder not because he's informed you already, but because it pained him to remind himself that he couldn't spend a once in a lifetime occasion with you. "B-because according to the laws of Petram Viridios IV, you are assigned a um - a party companion which is determined according to the alignment of your spine, carbon dioxide levels, as well as daily water intake. And due to the variety of guests, everyone must stand at least six feet apart to avoid air poisoning. However, if given an a-air helmet in order to assist with breathing, then I believe that the last rule isn't as severe. It's - there is a-a lot to remember."

Currently, he was piecing together the circuits and connecting the wires which would power his reflective shield. It was going to be worn under his dress shirt and would be undetectable under their scanners; as a precaution of course. "Ricky, you know I barely drink water." You weren't a fan of water, but you enjoyed flavored beverages and if you did drink water, it was always carbonated first. "I mean, I can get past the distance thing, but what am I supposed to do if I'm assigned to someone I don't like, and have to spend hours being bored and jealous that you're next to gorgeous, realistic fembots from Westworld?"

Unlike you, Zeta-7 drank so much water, you wondered how he wasn't rushing to the bathroom every five minutes. The only other people who drank that much water were beauty gurus who wanted to keep their skin in tip-top shape; you could really try harder if you wanted to. Good naturedly, he answered. "Gosh, y-you don't have to worry about that. I know a fembot when I-I see one."

You raised a brow at this, but seeing as he meant it literally, you listened on. "No s-siree, I won't be assigned a party companion because I'm going t-t-to be assisting the king in protecting their sacred relic."

How Rick became designated to assist with such a task was beyond you, but there seemed to be a glimmer of slight pride in the fact that he'd be so lucky and privileged as to be near the legendary flower, as well as to the beings who revered it. He was determined to find out the truth behind its properties, and if his hypothesis proved true, then he had a plan. You enjoyed when he was diverted with schemes; not the kind which was evil in nature, but the ones which could end happily or inconclusively. Anyway, you two were discussing how to go about it all.

The discussion had gaps of pause where he'd need to concentrate on bits of wiring that needed to be soldered or bent. Without distraction, you were more aware that it was humid, especially with the garage door being fully open for proper ventilation; bits of your hair stuck to your face and to the back of your neck despite how you'd try to tie it. As annoying as it was, it did have its draw; every so often, you'd catch Rick staring and you'd feel a thrill for it could be a year or ten years, but his shy tendencies would never stop being endearing; why he felt the need to reign himself when you were cool with him checking you out was something you hoped he'd someday become more comfortable with, but for now you'd simply giggle and wink at him to let him know you knew. He did his best to focus on the task at hand, but it wasn't going as well as he had hoped for it happened more than once that you'd have to hand him a tool he was blindly reaching out for. "You wouldn't happen to know who my party companion is," you inquired, as you were tying your hair up for the umpteenth time. "do you? And if you do, can't you change them?"

Giving you that look which always preceded his speeches of why he couldn't do that random illegal thing, he explained with kindly patience. "I could change th-the records, and assign you to someone I know, but that wouldn't be legal."

"I know."

"However," he brightened as he paused his work to face you fully. "I do have a copy of the guest list. Give me a-a moment to pull it up on my computer. Hmm," he wondered more to himself then out loud. "that's odd."

"What is it?"

Drumming his fingertips on his workbench, he double-checked his calculations, then went over and wrote it all out on a chalkboard to be sure. Tapping the freshly used chalk tip to his chin in thought, leaving a little powder on his face, he nodded when it seemed satisfactory. "According to um - to my calculations, it's possible that it's either the Salamandrian chemist, V'gha Khadaka or the Chordatan Knight, Noathamas."

"Is there a correlation between the two?"

"Other than their similar water intake levels, they both enjoy their privacy. However, I'm a-a little stumped as to how it might be possible to be assigned to them both. None of your occupations are similar, neither is there a species similarity, but I'm sure I'll figure it out before the event."

Great, just great. That sort of information wasn't all that helpful, but you pressed a kiss to his cheek to ease the worry which he had been hiding. You wondered if it was too late to back out, but for the most part you were determined to be there for him, even if it meant odd company. "Alright. Um… is there something I should keep in mind before I go dress shopping?"

A quick glance at your current outfit made him smile. You were wearing an old band tee and jeans with so many patches, that they were more patch then jean. "I-I don't think so. Almost anything is fine. Though, y-you might want to avoid plant-based materials in favor of synthetics just in case."

"Okay, I think I can do that, but don't be surprised if I look like I just walked out of a 1980s prom. I'll have you know that being slightly flammable is a dream of mine."

He chuckled at that and patted your shoulder. "Hohoho, I'm sure it'll be fine. You - you always look pretty in whatever you wear."

"If you mean that I'll be so fine, that I'll light up the room with my razzle-dazzle, then you better watch out. You never know who'll be charmed without my knowing."

Now, there had been little to no weight to your phrasing just now, but he felt differently. Giving your shoulders a squeeze, there was a distant, far off look in his eyes that you could only recall from specific occasions. It was a mix of longing, sadness, and regret, but you couldn't pin it on what exactly. It was as though he were trying to convey by sight that there was something he ought to do, that he ought to say, but as quickly as it had appeared, it left and was replaced by acceptance. He pulled away and returned to his previous task while you used a spare computer to begin the search for the perfect dress. He said it'll be fine, and you certainly hoped so.

____________

Adjustments in gravity made you feel as though you could jump in and out of craters as though you were wearing moon shoes; that is until you stepped onto a ship or station, then you felt as though you had fifty pounds tied to each foot. You were grateful for the terrain stabilizers that Rick placed in your flats a few adventures ago, otherwise, you would've already been worn out.

You two arrived a few minutes apart by way of the designated ship which held a variety of guests. To explain, the ship itself was a marvel and a work of beauty as far as intergalactic travel was concerned; its mechanical parts were held together by a compound whose main ingredient was a type of scarlet amber. Piece by piece, it had been crafted by a mixture of living matter and tech so advanced, that it'd have taken 300 years of Earth-based studies to understand a fraction of how one of its panels could work; probably sooner for someone like Rick.

Your eyes trailed the conduits as you were led through hallways that seemed to spiral and spill into larger hallways with varying temperatures and design and you wondered how it was those conduits crossed over and branched off like veins, but you had no time to find out and didn't feel privileged enough to ask as you were led into a cabin. Multiple voices hushed, but resumed to their usual loudness once you had settled into what appeared to be a loveseat with the coloring and texture of a pumpkin; it was your assigned seating, but it was not as soft as you would have liked.

It wouldn't be till later that you'd find out that Rick had traveled in a cabin on level 4 while you had been on level 2. In your cabin was a being composed of pure energy, with a name not spelled in letters but in frequencies, who was one of the musicians. A few feet away, was V'gha Khaḍaka; he was tall, sure-looking, had smooth, striped skin which glistened, and a tail strong enough to break someone's spine in a blink; the good thing was that he hadn't been trained in combat, but was simply a scientist who enjoyed the pursuit of knowledge. And a few feet away from the Salamandrian chemist was the knight Noathamas; he stood at half your height, but his chest was puffed out in such a way that made him appear larger, while his round amber eyes and curly whiskers gave him a soft, cuddly appearance; you had been warned by Rick that his appearance did not reveal much about his character and to watch out for him.

It was uncommon but not unheard of to be assigned multiple party companies as you had been; you were matched up to both V'gha and Noathamas due to your odd chemical makeup. Who would've thought that drinking a La Croix before leaving home would confuse their scanners? Goodness, you were grateful that it was a quick trip, and when it was time to depart the ship, you were escorted by two guards before you were given a helmet; it was nearly invisible except for its indicator light which was shaped like a flower, and it blended in with your dress; a colorful sequin cocktail dress you found on eBay. Not far from you were both your companions, who gave off the impression that they were your entourage rather than dates for the night. You saw Rick from a distance, and you knew he was trying to play it cool, but his eyes were sparkling with affection, although he knew he was supposed to suppress it due to the strict traditions imposed by the royal family; he looked away as he was escorted by six guards, but part of you wished that he hadn't.

You took a deep breath to calm your giddiness; this wasn't the time to allow your emotions to carry you away and affect the mission which was to get through the evening. V'gha could pick up on your subtle changes in body language, and thanks to a universal translator in your helmet, you could understand him. "From what I understand," he commented with a surprisingly smooth, velvety voice. "he's the smartest man in the universe. Is that true?"

"Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, "but he's more than just a brain. I heard he's a great lover. Not really my type," you lied because Zeta-7 suggested that you keep the details of your relationship with him a secret; again for safety, but you thought boasting up his reputation wouldn't hurt. "though, to each his own."

"Do you know him personally?"

When questions like this were thrown at you, it made you wonder about the curious people who meant it to sound nice, but in actuality wanted to test the waters as to how much can they ask so soon. Glancing at your nails, you feigned disinterest. "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to give out that type of information."

"You two are the only humans here." he stated matter of factly. There were humanoid beings but he was right. "It doesn't take rocket science to figure that much out."

"How would you know," you retorted with an air of certainty. "you're not a rocket scientist."

"You're right, I'm not. However, I do dabble into it from time to time. I'm sure he does too. I can smell the exhaust from here."

Hmm, perhaps this event was going to be more interesting than you thought. You shared a look of understanding with the chemist, and thought that perhaps you wouldn't need to be so wary of him; his charisma gave him a charm you hadn't yet decided if it was welcomed or should be ignored; whether his earlier comment was out of egotism or curiosity. And before you could make a comeback, Noathamas commented. "Shall we find our assigned seating and continue from there?"

"Sounds fine. Why don't you two walk ahead," you suggested with a coolness you didn't know you had. "I'll be sure to follow."

When you were sure that they were far enough, you took out your miniature glass terrarium necklace, which held a shrunken sunflower that had an iridescent shimmer on its petals; the one Rick had given you after a memorable date; it was made to remind you of how he saw you and you were very glad it had gone undetected under the scanners you passed through. And in your mind's eye you could still see the glimmer and shine of his electric blue eyes as he had taken in your appearance this afternoon before you two departed Earth; oh how he had wanted to kiss you and hug you but had refrained from doing so in order to double-check if he had all his supplies. His compliments had been many as he drove into the inky blackness of space, but when he parked at the station which was at the midway point, and you two lined up to board the ship which took you to this strange world, his face became neutral; his job made him good at that. You kissed your lovely necklace, replaced it so that it laid underneath your dress collar, and your heart called out to him in the void which was Petram Viridios IV; hoping you wouldn't have to go the through the evening without seeing your beloved again before you made yourself appear neutral and made sure to stay at least six feet apart from everyone in your midst.

Tbc

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #Rick Sanchez x reader #j19ζ7 #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #Rick Sanchez #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty fanfiction #rnm fanfic #rnm #my fanfiction #My fanfic #My writing #My works #fanfiction #rnm fanfiction

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years ago

Text

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (3/?)

A/n: this is a long chapter. Hope you guys like it. In this chapter I referenced @hoodoo12 fic Inked

Read Part 1, Part 2

________

Chapter 3: Do You?

"Are you having a good time?" he wondered as you were picking at your meal, and drawing faces in it.

"It's been pleasant enough." you admitted; shifting in your seat to sit up properly. "You've certainly made it easy on me."

You appreciated how the time passed so easily with the chemist's want and eagerness for conversation. He was well-spoken, and nothing lacked but whether it was you or your wandering mind, you had the feeling of wanting to go home; to relax on Rick's couch and watch a silly movie, but the night would go on. Intrigued by your earlier statement, V'gha studied you for a moment, not so unlike the way Zeta-7 would. Flexing his thick fingers, and smirking as though he had found the secrets of the universe and not intending on sharing it, he rested his chin on his now clasped hands."Would you care to elaborate?"

"Sure. I believe it's because, despite our differences, you're not so bad. I was worried that you were going to be overly serious, but it's been fun chatting with you."

"Well," he started, "I hope you won't be offended by me saying this, but I thought you were going to be more Neanderthal."

"You know," you giggled. "I get that a lot."

It never occurred to you to expect anything to really happen right now, but through half-lidded eyes, there were flecks of melancholy along with another emotion you couldn't quite detect. It passed quickly as light amusement colored his voice. "Is self-deprecating humor common among your kind? It doesn't matter. You nonetheless contain an intellect that I can only describe as affable. Are all humans this way?"

"I don't know, I can't speak for my kind, but I can speak for myself. I think in my case," You considered with seriousness, trying to refrain from sharing too many details. "it's what happens when you live as I do; close to a mad genius who enjoys his work as much as his garden. No really," you paused, playing around with your cloth napkin. "it's nothing special. I wish I could give you a highly detailed explanation, but I don't consider myself much of an intellectual. I do learn something new everyday. I think that counts for something."

Nodding in agreement, he made an attempt to consume his meal of fried klema paste, but could only manage a small bite as he too gave up on trying to believe it was halfway edible. "If I would've been in my lab, I could've shown you a recipe for a formula that attracts insectoids large enough to feed a family for a month. Even the bitter, old, beetletoids would taste better than what we've been served tonight."

You had a feeling that the meals were chosen by a machine that couldn't determine what would be better; pleasing the taste buds or feeding the vitamin deficiencies; it seemed to be the latter.

"I'm sad to tell you that I don't eat insects or insectoids. Though," you smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment. Where I'm from, you either love them or despise them. There isn't much of an in-between. For my part, I admire them. Like, there's these cute little guy's called roly-polys. They kind of look like little pills and they hang out in dead leaves and stuff. Oh, and don't even get me started on iridescent insects. They're just so beautiful, like living jewels. Too bad I don't have an eloquent explanation to give you."

"Do you mean to say that insectoids or insects as you refer to them, are minuscule creatures where you're from? How fascinating. And stranger still," he gestured at your outfit. "I was just thinking that you appear somewhat iridescent yourself."

He must've been referring to the sequins on your dress which were mildly reflective and multichromatic. "That was the point," you joked readily. "to look as though I could fly away at any moment. At least that's the story I'm sticking with, but don't tell anyone I left my private jet at home."

"Well, it does suit you. Has anyone told you that?"

If he meant either your dress, attitude, or both, then Rick had but you weren't going to tell him that. "No, but thank you."

"Really," he insisted. "I mean it. I…..I can't help but feel as though I know you." Leaning slightly forward, though not so much that it would violate the law, and squinting, he wondered. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

The multiverse thing was another classified subject on the infinite list of what you weren't allowed to talk about. For all you knew, he might've met another version of yourself or met you in passing in your travels with Rick. "No, we haven't. Maybe I remind you of someone."

Realization struck him, and he dug around in his pockets and pulled out a blank white card. Laying it out on the table, he pressed the corner of it, and it produced a hologram; it was a Salamandrian with vibrant coloring and stripes that made you wonder if they glowed in the dark. "That's why I've been perplexed. You remind me of her; an old colleague of mine."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, I thought so too. We used to work in the same lab together and were close to a breakthrough which could've assisted with premature aging which my species are prone to, but it wasn't meant to be. We ran out of funding and while working on another project, she collapsed. Before I knew it, she succumbed to rapid aging. Cha'thxa was amiable like yourself and loved to joke around. I believe that's why we were good friends."

"It's always the good ones. I'm sorry."

Replacing the card back into his pocket, he sobered. "It's alright. That was half a lifetime ago, but it's odd how events can trigger these recollections. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For these interactions of ours. It made me feel youthful."

What? Now that couldn't be right. If it hadn't been such an odd thing for him to say, you wouldn't have given a second thought to how he had spoken and carried himself. Really, you thought he was younger than yourself. "How old are you exactly? You don't look mature."

Taking a long sip of his beverage, he admitted with amusement. "Let's just say that the equivalent in human years is roughly 64.322 years old."

"What? No way. I wouldn't have ever guessed, but it shows what I know."

Though you weren't an expert on reptiles either, so how could you have known?

"Would it have really mattered? The only difference it would have made was perhaps in the way you would've treated me. I don't enjoy being treated as though I'm feeble-minded and will collapse at any moment."

"I promise, I wouldn't have."

"If only it were that simple. I've done the same, except I did the opposite and discriminated against someone far younger than I was and believed them foolish, but now that I've seen more of the world, and have familiarized myself with the universe through my travels and mostly through my studies, I realize how wrong I was. These days, I intend to live out the rest of my life to the fullest and to not be ashamed of it. And keeping in mind with that," he paused, ruminating on what he was about to ask. He continued. "I hope this isn't presumptuous of me to ask, but I'd love to invite you to my home planet." And with that winning, sharp-toothed smile, he explained. "Warm bodies are now allowed to visit and I would love to show you my dwelling. I believe you'd enjoy the view of the river. You seem to be the type that would never tire of good company."

It was a shame that he was such a fascinating creature, for you two might've been able to be good friends in a different life. "I do enjoy good company and most likely I would love the river, but under my current circumstances, I'm sorry to say it probably wouldn't be a good idea."

Calmly, he wondered. "Is it because of that human we saw a few hours ago is your mate?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. "I would consider him so."

"Forgive me then, for I didn't know, but I should have come to that conclusion." he remarked sheepishly. "You reek of him and your hormones changed every time I asked you about him."

"Look," you sighed, feeling a little embarrassed at the series of events which led up to this. "it's alright. I think it's the guidelines of this event that prevent us from being in each other's presence, but even if it's a crime, I wish he was here. I'm sorry if I acted out of place otherwise."

Giving you a wink, V'gha rose and gently took your hand; not only was it against the law, but against his character. You were going to pull away, but he said in Rick's voice. "Terminate simulation."

______

You removed the headset you had forgotten you were wearing. "Oh no, did I mess up again? Would I have died of food poisoning? Dysentery? I swear this is harder than the Oregon Trail."

"N-no, you did alright." he said at first, thoughtfully tapping at charts across his multiple screens set up. "Every time you were presented with a-a challenge, you followed the protocols and procedures just as you were instructed, but it's when you depart the ship which has my calculations going all over th-the place. Gosh, I now realize that it - it doesn't matter which of the guests are assigned as your companion. There is a 33.682% chance that they'd take a romantic interest in you, while there's only a 7% chance of you taking interest in them."

"Ricky, what in the world are you talking about?" You were sure that all of it was simply meant to be a learning experience and that none of it was real. However, considering it was meant to be a realistic simulation, the possibility of romance was there, despite how minimal the chances were. "I thought the reason we were going through the simulation was so that I wouldn't jeopardize the mission. Am I to understand that you don't want me to go because you discovered there's a small chance that a guest or two might fall for me?"

He scratched the back of his neck, wary to meet your questioning gaze. "Gee, I wouldn't have phrased it th-that way. I just....I-I don't like it."

"Oh my goodness," you couldn't help but exclaim. "Rick, are you jealous?"

It was always surprising when he was for it happened so rarely, and when it did you were more flattered then concerned. You continued. "I thought these scenarios always end the same way. You know I only want to be with you, even at the risk of my life. Why these aliens would take an interest in me, I'll never know, but it's cool that the people I'm assigned to are fascinating characters. Doesn't it prove that I'm ready for this mission? I kept the sharing of valuable information to a minimum, and I got along with mostly everyone."

"Gee, I don't know. Y-you're almost ready. However," he pointed at his computer screen. "there are anomalies in some of the earlier models which are concerning. In scenario 3, 7, and 15, the chances of my extermination were 18.475% because I-I allowed myself to get distracted from the mission. In scenarios 17, 19, and 25, there's such a minuscule change that we can forget them altogether. Yet, in the last five scenarios, especially this last simulation, it jumped to 42% and I ended it before things w-would've gone sour. Golly, studying the patterns between them all taught me that you're attractive t-t-to multiple species."

"What can I say, must be my animal magnetism." you teased as you wiggled your eyes brows.

Thoroughly worried, he sighed. "It appears so."

"Come on Ricky," you softened. "I'm only kidding. Listen, why don't you disguise yourself as V'gha, while one of your robot clones handles the mission? Out of all of them, V'gha was one of the nicest. We can knock him out temporarily."

"That could work, but that's highly risky."

"How so?"

"Because staying alive means I-I can't do this."

Wrapping an arm about your waist, the beginnings of a smile were taking place. "For this, I'd get my arms chopped off. It's due t-to the fact that centuries ago a war broke out from a single incident that occurred b-between two rivals who fought for the love of a Milleannos grounds protector whose sole purpose was to guard and tend to the bud that would never bloom in their lifetime. So, this kind of behavior between us is a big no-no. At least as non-royals of Petram Viridios IV." And pressing a kiss to your temple, he chuckled. "I don't know what'd happen to me if I did that, but I-I wouldn't want to find out."

"Do the inhabitants of that planet learn their traditions through tall tales?"

"I-I don't know, but it doesn't seem that far-fetched. It's um - it's possible that over time, they've needed t-to learn sets of skills in order to survive in the once harsh terrain, but seeing how they were able to preserve their culture for hundreds of thousands of years, they must be doing something right. Still, knowing all this, I-I doubt I could keep my cool and stay away from you. Apparently, the simulations tell me the same thing."

"In that case," you softened. "I might have to remove myself from this mission. After all, I don't want you to think I'm trying to woo a few strangers."

"Boy, I-I didn't mean it t-t-to sound that way."

"Of course not, but you told me the truth. And you're entitled to it in some respects. Though, while you spoke of data and calculations, you didn't ask me how I felt. Why not dear? I'm not ashamed to tell you."

Yet, he seemed ashamed to ask. "Did - did you feel anything?"

Smoothing out the lines about his mouth and eyes with your fingers, you confessed. "I felt flattered by their attention, and their company wasn't that bad. I felt……well, like a person in society, who meets and meets dozens of people, and only really takes interest when the conversation is somewhat comfortable and familiar, but I wanted you there to enjoy it too. " Pointing towards the monitors, you continued." If you take a closer look at the data on my brain waves, changes of hormones, and heart rate, then you'll see where my mind and heart truly was. In nearly all of them, I saw parts of you. Not so much physically, but there were personality traits that were so much like your own, I almost didn't feel so lonely. Yet, I never stopped searching for you in them, and in the world around me, in silence, in smiles over knowings, and in reminiscences, hoping you would come and could be in my reach."

Resting his hand atop yours, he sighed. "Th-that explains a few things."

"Does it? I know you were watching as it played out. And don't think I didn't know what you did this time around. I know it was you on that stage, veiled, and far away. Was that also part of the simulation? It…it felt so real. Somehow our souls were closer then they'd ever been."

"I added the possibility of being asked t-to play the Tremen orb bush. When played, it does induce a trance-like state, but during that part of the simulation, I-I tried to keep you calm because y-you were in the beginning stages of a panic attack."

It must've been because of the claustrophobic feeling of being in a chamber. So you hadn't been alone. "Dear, did you hold me and keep me safe?"

"In a manner of speaking. Y-you weren't in any immediate danger, but I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. So I - I moved my chair over, held your soft hands," he confessed shyly. "and talked to you for a little while. It must've helped for soon enough your vital signs were back to normal."

Yes, he was that sort of man; the kind who'd want to take care of you, and make sure you're alright; who'd give up a day in his garden to spend a dozen ensuring that within dreams you'd live to see another. What did you ever do to deserve him?

"I see. You know Rick, despite not bringing it up, I'm sorry that I had to pretend not to know you."

"That's okay."

He understood, way too easily did he understand. Digital planes with hundreds of foreign figures, blades of grass duplicated to fill in spaces, dreamland feelings which were wisps of real ones, he withstood them all. Slipping in and out of realities were preparations for the real tests which had and would continue to come your way. You admired his fortitude because till now he's dealt with the hardships incurred purposely and accidentally.

"Even if it was potentially part of the mission, and you knew I had to do it, it didn't feel good. How….how could I hide the fact that I have such a wonderful friend? You've been one of the dearest, closest friends that I've ever had."

Leaning down, he touched your forehead with his; releasing a breath you didn't know he had been holding. "El mayor - el mayor obstáculo para el amor es… es el temor s-secreto de no ser dignos de ser amados."

"But you are worthy." you reassured him.

"So I am." he accepted.

"Dear, in trying to protect what we have, lying was necessary. Yet, I don't want to pretend that we aren't anything. I love you too much to do that. I don't have any sign or mark of belonging to anyone, and that could've been one of the reasons there were misunderstandings. With V'gha and the others, I was only being friendly."

"I-I know."

"Even if you know, I'm still going to remind you." Resting a hand on his chest, his nervous heart seemed to dance. "Underneath my hand, lies the kind heart of an emotional, passionate genius, and I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world."

Holding you a fraction tighter, his breath ghosted your cheek. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Can I-I tell you something?"

"Yeah?"

"Everyday with you is better than the last. If we lived on Venus," he chuckled. "our days would've been 5,832 hours long. That's th-the equivalent of 243 Earth days."

"That's a long time. Hmm," you sighed, relishing in the nearness of him; breathing in the scent which wafted off his sweater and labcoat. You thought to yourself, this is how it should always be. "I wish I could've been born sooner so you wouldn't have had to be lonely. If I could've done that much, I would've been able to repay you. Still, despite my disbelief about our relationship at times, it's one of the reasons I carry the necklace. You know, the one you had given me on that memorable day that you were…" you paused as you felt him sag into himself, pulling away from you slightly as though he were ashamed. You continued on. "on that day when those Guard Ricks came because you were needed on the citadel. I regret that I put you through so much stress that day, but I'm glad you don't resent me for it." Pulling out the necklace, you couldn't help but tear up a little. "I look at this beautiful gift every time I need to be reminded that you always believed in me, adored me, and was part of your world."

"Y-you're not part of it, you are my world."

"And you are mine. There's no way I'll ever forget you."

Though, there was a chance you could or that he could have your memories erased; there were things you weren't supposed to know, but did. There had been stranger cases before, and just in case, you had made copies of your memories. "Why, if you ever have to use that memory eraser thing on me or on yourself, I promise I'll remember for the both of us. So please," you urged, giving him a half-impatient, half-loving shake. "don't think that what we have is so easily broken, because I love you and believe in what we are together."

Neither of you spoke for a while after that, but he gave your hands a good squeeze when he came to a resolution. "What if….what if I gave you a sign?"

"I'd think of an Ace Of Base song," you lightly teased. "and then I'd wonder what you could mean."

Rubbing your back, he said above a whisper. "I mean t-t-t-to say, do you…..¿Quieres casarte?"

"What? Did you just…can you repeat that?"

"D-do you want to get married?"

Pulling away from him, you wondered. "Wait, is this real?"

He nodded. "Y-yes."

"And I'm not in a lotus-eater machine right?"

Smoothing out your hair, he confessed. "N-no, I hope not."

After spending days going through multiple simulations, it was easy to assume that everything wasn't real, and was still part of another simulation within a simulation. You pinched yourself and saw that everything was in place. It's not that you weren't happy, it was just that this was a surprise you hadn't been expecting. For his part, he studied you and found that he liked what he saw and pulled out a little box. "I had wanted the moment t-to be perfect, but I don't think that's possible. I can't…..I don't want to be without you anymore."

"I think I need to sit down for this."

Leading you over to the computer chair, you took a seat while he stood before you; antsy and ready to confess. "Mi corazón, I have wanted to do this for so long, but I - I was too afraid t-t-to ask. I think now, I finally can."

Removing his labcoat, and setting it down, he pushed up the sleeve of his sweater; displaying the tattoo he had gotten a few years ago; a single sunflower with such detail it almost looks three dimensional. If it weren’t for the curve of his arm, it would appear that he took the bloom, shrunk it down, and simply laid it on his inner forearm. "When I got this, I wanted something as beautiful as you with me, always, and - and sunflowers are your favorite. You told me they were the epitome of happiness."

You nodded. "My best memories are associated with them."

"I suppose that still holds true, so I'm going to put my faith in that. To explain, I would like to tell you a few things concerning happiness. Everyday I-I go to work, I look forward to the moment I get to see you when I return. Though, when I come home, and the house is quiet, it's easy to remember that I live alone. However, when I see that the pillows have been rearranged in a way I um - in a way I hadn't left them, or find a mug in the sink, or piles of books that hadn't been read yet, I know I'm not alone; that y-you've been here. Gosh," he sniffled, doing his best not to cry. "when I see your sleeping figure on the couch or in the hammock outside, I think to myself that I want this t-t-to be my life. T-to be our life. You're what's missing in th-the equation to my happiness. When I met you, it's like the sun finally came out and I could finally bloom. We might carry bits of - of happiness, but I-I feel incomplete without you by my side. And I think y-you feel the same."

Taking hold of your left hand, he kissed it and his voice was colored with happiness again. In earnest, he wondered. "So, my beautiful little sunflower, as far as getting married is concerned, do you - do you want to?"

Tbc

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