#and i will do all of it while stone cold fucking sober because i’m stronger than you ever will be

[seventh-district]

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[justatiredghost]

Living for the moment ch1

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? 

-

Klaus was completely lost in the music, letting it carry him along however it pleased as it pulsed through the club, filling every part of him. He loved dancing and would often get caught up like this, feeling so free and light and just enjoying the moment, so it was a surprise when the sound of a laugh nearby caught his attention. Usually he would have just ignored it, sound tended to blur together in clubs anyway, but there was just something about how open and joyful it was that he couldn’t shake.

Glancing over, he found his eyes drawn to a man on the other side of the dance floor. The energy around him was so bright and inviting, only enhanced by his charmingly mussed curls and open expression, with a laid back grunge style going on that suited him. He was obviously a bit tipsy, but the smile he wore was just so genuine and radiant, it looked like he was having the time of his life. 

It was stunning. 

He drew Klaus in, made him want to be in on the joke, to be a part of his evening, part of the joy that surrounded him, and maybe even the cause of that smile. Even moreso when the man caught his eye and sent him a flirty wink that was so cheesy it nearly made him laugh out loud. 

There were too many people between them to approach, but they kept sending looks each other’s way and suddenly Klaus was more interested in this little game of theirs than he was in dancing. When the song finally ended and the man went to take a break, Klaus was surprised when he dropped into a seat at an empty table. It had seemed like he was friends with everyone around him, but apparently he’d come alone. Which meant Klaus’ choice here was an easy one as he also made his way off the dance floor. 

He’d forgotten that he’d promised some guy a drink earlier, but there he was waiting for him with a glass for them both and a hopeful smile. Klaus supposed he was fine enough, but he had different plans now and who was he to go against the flow the night had for him? It always paid to have a backup plan, though, and thankfully Klaus was nothing if not smooth, so by the time he extracted himself from the situation, he’d managed to convince the guy it was all his idea as he snagged the drinks for himself and left him standing there.

Apparently the man across the dance floor with the radiant smile had seen it all because, as Klaus dropped into the seat across from him, he started laughing. 

“That was too smooth,” he said. “Truly, I am in awe.”

“Good, then you can get the next round,” Klaus said, sliding one glass over to him. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll have to get it the boring way.” 

“That’s a shame,” Klaus said with a smirk. 

“Trust me, it’s not,” he laughed, but at least he didn’t seem to be turning him down. Instead, he leaned his elbows on the table, as if trying to lean closer.

“Klaus,” he said, raising his glass in a toast.

“To Klaus,” the man replied, raising his own.

“No, I mean, that’s my name,” Klaus chuckled. 

“You’re allowed to toast yourself,” he said easily. “Dave.”

“Then, to Dave as well,” Klaus said.

“To Klaus and Dave,” Dave said, taking a sip, and Klaus liked the sound of that for some reason. “So, what’s a guy like you doing at a table like this?”

“Well you see, when one is tired from a night of dancing and wants to take a breather and perhaps chat up another handsome patron—”

“Handsome, hmm?” Dave said with a pleased smile.

“Sorry, do you prefer to be called pretty?” Klaus asked.

“Yes, actually,” Dave said with a pleased smile. “My goal is to be the prettiest here, but it seems I have competition. Not that I could possibly complain about that.” 

“Oh, flattery will get you everywhere,” Klaus said, lounging against the table.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking about you,” Dave said quickly, but there was mischief in his eyes. “I saw someone’s guide dog earlier.”

“What? Where?” Klaus demanded, spinning around and craning his neck to see over the crowd.

“I think he left, unfortunately,” Dave laughed. “He was a very good boy, though.”

“Of course he was,” Klaus said indignantly. “All dogs are very good boys.”

“On that we can definitely agree.”

Tonight was... different. Usually, when Klaus caught the eye of some attractive individual, things went in a rather predictable direction. Everyone was there to numb the pain for a few hours, to get what joy they could before the sun came up and they were forced to face the harsh light of reality again. This was a place for one night stands and harmless fun, no attachments. Usually it was all forgotten when the sun came up anyway. That’s why he liked it.

Tonight, though, they just kept talking. Sure, they still flirted, but they kept getting lost in conversation, joking around and playing off each other so well that suddenly hours had passed and neither of them had really made a move. Not that Klaus didn’t want to, of course. Dave was so engaging and charismatic and funny and Klaus didn’t want the night to end. 

He never wanted to stop talking to him, he wanted to know everything about him, like how he was able to make Klaus laugh so hard he thought he was going to cry, or why he always looked so pleased when it happened. He was just so interesting and pretty, and he seemed so soft, and-- he had to stop himself because it was completely unlike himself to be so caught up in someone. So why did he keep thinking of places he’d like to take him or just things he wanted to tell him? Just little inconsequential things that he just thought he might appreciate or find funny. 

It wasn’t until Dave headed for the bathrooms, excusing himself politely of course, that Klaus started to panic. His hands were clenched tightly together, knee bouncing restlessly with the loss of distraction. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to looking to the future let alone actually imagining someone in it, as if anyone would even stick around that long. He didn’t have friends, at least none he’d consider close, it just made everything too real.

He was here to get high, to find some semblance of peace and pleasure before the ghosts returned and ruined his life again; he didn’t want to make things more complicated by bringing messy feelings into it. Couldn’t get hurt or hurt other people if you didn’t know them well enough, after all. And he didn’t want the responsibility of anyone trusting or counting on him. So why couldn’t he get the image of Dave’s smile out of his mind? 

Maybe he was just too sober. Maybe that’s all this was. He was getting sober and thinking too much and he could really use a hit of something stronger than shitty alcohol. At least he’d spotted one of his dealers earlier. He needed to resupply. It was fine, he’d probably be back before Dave. 

-

Klaus stood in the alley, head resting back against the cold stone of the wall as he waited for the pills to take effect. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he stood there, letting the high take him, but when he finally returned to his seat, he felt much calmer. Unfortunately, Dave was still missing. No problem, he was probably just still in the bathroom, he could wait.

- 

Eventually, Klaus had to admit that Dave wasn’t coming back. It was too late for him to find anyone else to party with since the other guy who had bought him the drinks as well as the girl he’d flirted with when he’d first arrived had both long since left. With last call being announced, he knew the fun part of the night was over. There was no hope of getting any free drugs or a bed and he’d wasted a perfectly good party for nothing. His mood dampened, he headed out into the night, trying to decide if an alley would do for a bit of shuteye. 

“You had an unusually chill night,” Ben commented, falling into step with him. 

“I thought you didn’t like hanging around when I go out?” Klaus asks, hoping to change the subject. 

“I don’t,” Ben said, “But I got bored. You never take me anywhere fun so I gotta make my own somehow.”

“And you find it by stalking me?”

“Hell no, but you’re apparently impossible to escape.”

“I’m touched,” Klaus says sarcastically, pulling out a joint and searching for his lighter. “Fuck off.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Ben said, unphased. “You actually seemed like you had fun tonight. So why’d you ditch him?

“First of all,” Klaus said, coming to a stop as he pointed the unlit joint accusingly at Ben. “You usually hate all the people I hang out with. What’s with the sudden nosy interest? Second, I was the one who got stood up.” He turned and continued trudging down the street, muttering, “I hope he at least didn't feel like he had to climb out the bathroom window to get away.”

“It’s not like you’re a private person,” Ben persisted. “I’m just surprised when you have a night that doesn’t look like you’re headed for the gutter. And that guy didn’t stand you up. He waited at that table for, like, an hour while you were off with your dealer. He probably thinks you stood him up.”

“Oh,” Klaus said, feeling a bit guilty, but at least he’d finally found his lighter. “Well, his loss, I guess, that he didn’t wait another hour.”

“Yeah, you’re quite the catch,” Ben said and he could hear the eye roll even without looking.

“You know it,” Klaus said, waving his now-lit joint through Ben like he was trying to disperse smoke.

It didn’t exactly matter, anyway. Klaus wasn’t the dating type. He wasn’t really made for any sort of long term relationship. He’d tried it a few times and hated it. It just wasn’t worth the benefit of knowing he had a bed at the end of the day. He didn’t like feeling so tied to someone and it was only a matter of time before they got tired of putting up with him anyway. Even his family could barely stand him. The thought shouldn't have even crossed his mind. So why was he still thinking about this? And why could he still picture every detail of Dave’s face, down to the mischief in those baby blues? 

“So, what’s next?” Ben asked.

“Get off my back, man,” Klaus said. He was developing a headache. 

“Come on, I wanna go somewhere fun tomorrow. At least tell me we’re going back to the shelter tonight. I don’t want to sleep in a gutter again.”

“You aren’t even sleeping, what do you care?” Klaus asked.

“At least I can people watch at the shelter.”

“Creeper.”

“Shut up. You try to entertain yourself for hours when you can’t actually interact with anything.”

“Fine, fine, we’ll go to the shelter if it’ll make you stop,” Klaus said with a sigh, tossing his joint down onto the pavement and grinding it out with his shoe. 

At least he was on his own again. This was how it was meant to be. Well, Ben was there too, but neither of them really had much say in that. The point was, he’d probably never see Dave again and that was for the best. 

Or so he thought. 

[phobiadeficient]

tea pot anon a second time! I was also wondering! when you have a lull in prompts, or if you felt like it, I would love to see, like a sniper/demo/scout one that focus on demo? I just think it would be neat! since you've done ones with scout and sniper as the focus, and all! no rush, of course, and only if you felt like it!

welcome to “demo has a self-stated alcohol problem and frankly his boyfriends are very worried about him and wish he would just talk to them instead of making himself sick”. a long one because demo deserves it (warnings for alcoholism and a brief situation of dubious consent, however it is not taken advantage of)

-

Demo’s head was pounding, and he blinked his eye open.

Alright. His own room. That was good. And he was clothed, in his pajamas, something very soft. And his mouth tasted absolutely terrible, and he had a splitting headache—not like migraines, like hangover. Not unusual. Maybe just worse than usual.

He was warm, maybe too warm, and seemed to be having a hard time pushing at his blankets. Weighty. He looked first to his right, and blinked when he saw a pair of dog tags a few inches from his nose—Scout was here, apparently—then craned his head to look to his left, and could just barely catch sight of Sniper, yawning, blinking awake.

He looked over, apparently noted that Demo was awake, and promptly reached to fumble on the bedside table, passing Demo a bottle of water first and foremost.

He took it gratefully, sitting up a bit while he drank so as not to drown himself, hoping to wash the bad taste from his mouth. Then he blinked down at Scout for a minute. Scout was in a cozy pair of pajamas, as was he, and even Sniper (who generally tried to sleep in the buff when he could get away with it) was in a sleep shirt and presumably pants. Despite feeling like absolute hell internally, he didn’t feel particularly disgusting.

“What’s…?” he tried to ask, even as his voice croaked, and he registered that his throat hurt.

Sniper nudged him back into lying down, taking the water bottle back gingerly, setting it down before he too laid down. Demo felt a little uncomfortable in the back of his mind at Sniper being in his blind spot, but he didn’t really have it in him to say anything, or to do anything about it.

“Me and the kid noticed you’ve been in a slump lately,” Sniper said softly. “I asked him to check up on you, see if you’d rather be around us for it, and he tracked you down and saw you’d nearly drank yourself to the floor. He pieced together that there was something wrong, bolted to go get me, brought me over, and we took care of you for the night.”

“Feel like utter shite,” Demo managed.

“Yeah,” Sniper said, as if he’d assumed. “You threw up, quite a lot. Cried. Kid couldn’t understand a word of it, but, I picked out pieces.”

His voice sounded sad, and that worried Demo, quite a lot.

He took a deep breath before continuing, yawned. “Scout managed to convince you to take a shower after all the mess that’d happened, got you in your pajamas and all, I brought some over for us two. He was worried we couldn’t leave you overnight, thought you’d… choke on your own throw-up, something like that. Told him we can’t die anyways, but… you know him. He worries.” A pause. “We both do.”

He felt queasy.

“We’re…” An inhale, an exhale, Sniper’s breath tickling at him. “We’re going to need to talk about it at some point. Not now, not while you’re still feeling like a buggering wreck and all. But at some point.”

“Do we, though?” Demo tried, tried to tint his voice with an amount of humor, a shot in the dark based on what he could hear of Sniper’s mood.

“You scared the absolute hell out of us, Tavish,” Sniper said, voice hushed, no humor, no joy, just terribly, terribly tired. A pause. “And we’re not… upset that this happens, that you have your off days. They happen, there’s only so much we can help that. But you scared the hell out of us because you didn’t say anything, didn’t try and… tell us, or ask for help, nothing. The only reason we knew something could be wrong was that Scout noticed you didn’t talk to Soldier very long yesterday after matches were up. That’s all we had to go on.”

Demo looked over at Scout, who was more often than not a light sleeper, and who hadn’t shifted even a little bit at their tossing and turning and talking, out like a light.

“We just… look, we’ll talk more about it later. And we aren’t angry. We’re just worried about you.”

Demo squeezed his eye shut.

“Just go back to sleep for now,” Sniper said quietly. “Headache?”

“Yeah,” Demo nodded.

“I’ll get somethin’ for that, be right back. Drink more water,” he directed, getting out of bed and putting the water bottle where he’d been.

Scout woke up before Sniper got back, shaken awake when Demo sat up to drink from the water bottle. “Hwhat?” he mumbled, blinking. “Hey. Hey, you’re up. Good mornin’. It’s morning?”

“It’s morning,” Demo assured, further ruffling his hair.

“Fuck.” Scout sat up as well, tucked himself into Demo’s side. And he was always a cuddler like that, always craved contact, but it was a bit much, even for him. “Hey, where’s Legs?”

“Went to get… headache medicine, I think,” Demo replied, took another drink, winced. “Told me I was a damn menace yesterday.”

“God, yeah,” Scout sighed. “What all’d he say?”

“A good bit,” Demo shrugged. “About the sick, and my throwing a wee bit of a tantrum.”

“Did he tell you about when you were getting pissed at me over the showering thing?” Scout asked, still having not come up for air from where he was cuddled into Demo’s shoulder and arm.

“Nae?”

“Goddamn, like… okay. Usually when we three get together it’s a thing we know about before it happens, and usually if we’re drinking we’re all drinking, but this time we were both just like—“

“Volume, doll,” Demo warned, wincing a little as his headache throbbed.

“Sorry,” Scout whispered. “Uh, but this time we were both stone cold sober and you just felt like total garbage, but then when you felt good enough that we could try and get you to take a shower without like, drowning, you started getting pissed off at us because you figured us not wanting to be all cuddly and kissy with you was our way of breaking up with you—like, seriously outta nowhere—and you kept insisting that you were totally fine and that you wanted to… first you were saying you wanted to blow Snipes, then I think you were asking me to do it? I dunno. But we kept saying no, because you were like gone and that would be fucked up, and you got like upset about it. But yeah. Kinda washed out your mouth and got even more annoyed and stuff, it was a nightmare.”

Demo felt guilt stabbing deep into his chest.

“Is that a thing you worry about a lot?” Scout asked gently. “That we’re gonna just, outta the blue break up with you?”

Demo didn’t know whether he should answer that honestly or not.

“We’re not gonna,” Scout said quietly, interpreting his silence. “Like, if anything isn’t that what we should be worried about? You’re the guy who’s wicked fuckin’ smart and can bench press me and is also just super nice to everyone, and real funny too. And sure, Snipes is hot and cool, and I’m a healthy young guy, but it’s like, c’mon. You’re way out of our league. We’re super lucky.”

“You’re gonna try and tell me, after that whole bloody nightmare I cannae damn well remember, there was no point of you wondering whether I’m worth the trouble, doll?”

Scout pulled back to level a look at him, all the more inescapable since he was directly in Demo’s line of sight. “Babe, remember that time I got all upset about shit because I thought you guys hated me because we had to cancel date night that one time and I forgot to get dinner and I was acting like the world was ending? Did you wanna break up with me over that?”

“No,” Demo admitted.

“Remember that time Snipes was talking about his shitty dad and growing up in Australia and getting all broken up about it because it sucked and he still isn’t over it? Did you wanna dump his ass on the curb over that?”

“No, but this is different.”

“It’s totally not though.”

“Damn it, Scout,” Sniper said, and Demo looked up and saw him closing the door behind him, a small box cradled in one arm. “Don’t have the conversation without me. And not while he’s hung over within an inch of his bloody life.”

“Had worse,” Demo defended, watching Sniper start fumbling his way through his little box.

While Medic was a well-trained certified medical genius, Sniper tended to take pride in his knowledge of home remedies. Demo was given simple mint and ginger candies for his nausea, honey to soothe his throat, and some sort of something to help speed up his hydration.

“Then this is just proper headache medicine,” Sniper said, shaking out two pills into his palm and offering them to Demo. “Take these with water, mind.”

“Can’t I wash it down with something stronger?” he asked.

“Stuff it, Tavish,” Sniper said sternly, and put the box aside, and once Demo had downed the medicine, he pulled him down back into bed, and Scout followed with no hesitation. “More rest, I think. Twenty minutes until the pills kick in, then you’ll be right as rain. And the kid needs sleep, besides.”

“Do not,” Scout protested around a yawn.

Demo didn’t argue, just letting the two of them hold him and trying not to feel guilty about it, even as he drifted back off.

-

He avoided the conversation as best he could. Mostly by distracting Scout, prompting him to continue whatever he was on about at any given point when the three of them were reasonably alone, knowing that as long as he wasn’t thinking about it he wouldn’t remember and Sniper wasn’t the type to cut him off to talk about more serious things. And on their usual date night, he showed up already well into tipsy, if still alert and comprehensible.

But then they cornered him, finding him in his workshop and plopping themselves down on either side of him at his bench and moving right into what they wanted with no time for him to redirect.

“Okay, so since you don’t wanna talk about the thing,” Scout started to say, and shushed him with a hand on his arm when he started to protest. “Nonono, no, listen, just hear me out. Since you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t gotta talk about it. Not for real. But me and Snipes still have some stuff we want you to know.”

“So we won’t talk about it,” Sniper agreed, hand on his shoulder, gentle but weighty. “We really won’t. Could you just follow us, darl? Please?”

Demo was suspicious, but not suspicious enough to disagree with them, not when they were making it pretty clear that they were letting him off the hook. So he just gently asked them to wait a few minutes and wrapped up what he was doing and put things away, then stood to follow them.

They led him into Scout’s room, a place they didn’t tend to frequent, a bit more cluttered than Demo’s room and with a slightly smaller bed, and less private than the camper van. Sniper sat down at Scout’s bed and gestured for Demo to join him, and he did.

“So what have you gone and dragged my arse to a secondary location for, then?” Demo asked, raising an eyebrow at Scout, who was digging through his closet across the room.

“Well,” Sniper started in carefully. “Remember that time this little bugger was having an awful day and we coddled him over it?”

“We figured, hey, you’re not into having a whole talk about stuff. That’s fair. But we gotta let you know we love you, though. So,” Scout shrugged, and came back with a box, roughly as big as a shoebox. “We’re just gonna try and give you a real good night to take your mind off stuff and help you feel better and then maybe you’ll… I dunno. It made sense when me and Snipes talked about it.”

“The idea is that we love you and we need you to know that,” Sniper simplified.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t need—“ Demo started to say, flustered.

“It’s not about whether you need it, Tavish, it’s about what you want,” Sniper sighed, stroking a hand down between his shoulder blades. “You’re allowed to want things. And what we want is to make you feel good, get your mind off things.”

“Please?” Scout asked, putting on his very best puppy-dog eyes for the effect. And damn it all, they almost never worked on Sniper, but they could convince Demo to do just about anything in a heartbeat.

“Fine, knock yourselves out,” he sighed, and moved to start stripping when Scout’s hands started nudging at his clothes insistently.

Soon he was just about bare, although he kept his eye patch on, as he tended to do, less out of embarrassment and more because the damn thing always got lost in the sheets. And Scout had stripped down to his own boxers and socks, and Sniper had at least stripped to his work pants, probably more for the sake of comfort than anything else.

Then Scout was pulling his arm, urging him into some position. He found himself on all fours above Scout, and the smaller man wrapped arms up over his shoulders and legs around his waist and kissed him full on the mouth with no small amount of enthusiasm.

Demo settled forward, already enjoying the way this was going, and was only idly surprised when he felt a pair of hands on his ass, parting exactly long enough to tilt his head up a bit.

“What’re you up to, Mundy?” he asked idly, like he didn’t have a flushed, athletic young man kissing across his well-bearded jaw and demanding his attention.

“Well, the gremlin’s been teasing me for a while about some toy he bought a month back and getting use out of when I’m “too grumpy to mess around”, see,” he quoted dryly, and Demo rolled his eye at the self-satisfied little grin Scout gave at that. “He gave me a spin on it, and it’s properly good. Thought it’s only fair you get to try it too. That awright?”

“Only if you promise not to enjoy the view too much,” Demo teased, wriggling enticingly before dipping back down to finally give Scout some more attention, chuckling at his enthusiasm.

He had to part for a moment to steady his breathing as Sniper started coaxing him open patiently on two fingers, and his brow furrowed a little bit as a familiar smell hit his nose. Like cinnamon, maybe, and why did he smell cinnamon—?

He gasped outright at the feeling of a mouth against him.

His thighs trembled a little, and he panted against Scout’s temple at the feeling of hands spreading him wide and a tongue setting to work, moving against him in patient, teasing throbs.

He’d honestly forgotten about the flavored lube. It hadn’t come up in a while.

“Feels good?” Scout asked gently, pulling back to look Demo in the eye, cupping his cheek. Demo nodded distractedly. “Good. We wanna make you feel good.”

“You do,” Demo managed, voice a little tight, jolting at a sudden press inward, inward, before Sniper pulled back and set to flat-tongued lapping again.

“Well, we wanna make you feel extra good,” Scout said petulantly, kissing him just below his eyepatch, and when had Scout unhooked his other arm? At some point, apparently, because then Scout has a hand around his dick and was moving in nice, steady tugs against him.

It had taken Scout a while to get used to dealing with an uncut dick, but once he figured out the basics, he was a bloody master at it, drawing the pad of his thumb against sensitive points as he gave steady pulls, milking precum out of him so easily it was almost embarrassing, spreading it all across the head.

The two-pronged assault had him shivering and shaking in ecstatic spasms, trying to jerk his hips and finding it difficult to stop himself.

“Mickey, you filthy-minded lanky bastard, I’m not lasting into you using that toy you’re on about if you keep doin’ that,” he warned almost desperately, an embarrassing squeak escaping him as the thumb that he’d been circling against his perineum pressed just a bit harder in response.

“Then go on, Tavish,” Sniper replied, kissing breathlessly at his tailbone before he dived right back in. Scout meanwhile leaned up to nip at his bottom lip, coaxing it from between Demo’s teeth as he tried to muffle himself.

“C’mon, you’ve got two rounds in you,” Scout urged, rhythm increasing and for a moment unintentionally matching the rhythm Sniper’s tongue was moving in, and that was it for him, shuddering and groaning, mouthing praises against Scout’s neck insistently as the lad tugged him right through it.

He was distantly aware of Scout squeezing the last drops free of him and smearing them against his own thigh before releasing Demo and moving to just wrap arms up around his shoulders again. Sniper detached, kneading soothingly at his thighs as he slowly came back down, breathing hard.

Demo managed to sit up a bit higher, hoping to address the both of them, then he saw the well-past-satisfied look on Scout’s face, and looked down a bit further and saw that Scout hadn’t bothered trying to catch Demo’s orgasm, instead letting it splatter out onto his own stomach and nearly up to his chest.

“You ever get tired of getting filthy just to look good?” Demo asked, admittedly feeling his face heat up as he looked at the sight.

“Nah,” Scout said smugly.

“Oh, what’s the damn kid gone and done now?” Sniper grumbled, leaning down next to the two of them and planting an elbow next to Demo’s, eyes widening a little at the sight. “…Christ, nevermind, carry on,” he said, leaning his cheek on his fist as he ogled.

“Pretty little thing, aye?” Demo asked, adjusting his weight to stroke a hand down Scout’s side, grinning at the shiver that drew out of him, Scout clearly all keyed up.

“You wanna talk about good-lookin’? I know I’ve got a mirror for you around here somewhere,” Scout replied, even if it wobbled a bit with Sniper’s free hand moving to tweak at his nipples. “Fuckin’—quit it, Snipes, c’mon.”

“Nah, nah, keep on, Mundy,” Demo urged, shifting to better balance as he moved a hand down between them to grip at Scout’s dick, hard and demanding, probably bordering on painful.

Scout jolted, a sound of pleasure punching out from deep in his chest, and he squirmed a little bit, breath picking up. “Y-you guys—hey, I thought we’re, this is Demo’s night, okay?” he tried, even muddled, even trying hard not to arch into Demo’s hand.

“You’re good for more than one round,” Demo taunted, echoing the earlier sentiment. He leaned down to murmur right into Scout’s ear, enjoying the shiver he gave at it. “And besides, lad, I think I’d really get a kick out of you makin’ an even bigger mess all over yourself, aye? Hearin’ you moan for it. Gorgeous little thing.”

Scout bucked, and spilled, and moaned just as he’d been asked to, embarrassed and defeated.

“Mmm. Lovely,” Demo purred, and Scout just burrowed into his neck to hide, face bright red. “Nothin’ to be ashamed of, lad. Especially since you bounce back so quick after, see?”

Scout grumbled something at that.

“You hangin’ in there, Mickey?” Demo asked, looking over at Sniper, who looked very pleased with himself, stroking a palm over Scout’s ribcage where there wasn’t much mess.

“Enjoyin’ the show, Tavish,” he replied evenly, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. “And seems like you are too.”

He wasn’t as young as he used to be, but Scout did tend to make a nice view, and his body was starting to react again upon seeing it, member growing heavier between his thighs once more. “I am,” he agreed.

“Care to take a spin on that toy, now?” Sniper suggested.

“Where’s that leave you?” Demo asked, eye flicking down to glance at where Sniper’s pants were growing properly snug.

“Buggering the prettyboy’s mouth once he’s found it again, I’d bet,” Sniper said, reaching up to stroke his thumb across Scout’s bottom lip. Sometimes that was a great way to get Scout to bite you, but now he’d been unraveled enough that instead he leveled a heated look at Sniper, moving instead to lick at it partingly. “Yeah, isn’t that right? There’s a beauty.”

Sniper returned to his previous position behind Demo, slicking something up and spreading him open with one hand. “Slow, now,” Demo warned.

“Oh, ‘course,” Sniper agreed, and then something slightly chillier than the room was pressing at him, then pressing in.

Scout helped distract him from the odd feeling of it by laying kisses all across the underside of his jaw where beard started to fade to neck, nose tickling where it brushed. Demo jolted as the toy pressed just right, and he heard Sniper chuckle behind him, and felt his face burning again.

“Ready, then?” Sniper asked, smoothing hands down the outside of Demo’s thighs.

“Give him a minute, Legs,” Scout warned, then set back in again.

“Think I’m probably ready,” Demo said hesitantly, frowning a bit.

“Hah! No you aren’t,” Scout scoffed knowingly. “Like, three more minutes. Trust me.”

Sniper continued on with teasing touches across his thighs and ass, and finally made an impatient little noise. There were sounds of shuffling, then Sniper was back, much closer, grinding at the back of his thigh idly while he continued spidering hands all over his skin. Demo was starting to feel a bit warm, a bit sensitive again, and it was then that Sniper’s hands fell down to the base of the toy again, hesitating, waiting for something.

Demo startled a bit when he realized what it was. “Go on then,” he urged, rocking back for emphasis.

Sniper obliged, and the toy clicked to life, and his breath caught.

It wasn’t necessarily the strongest vibration he’d ever felt in his life, but pressed just there against his prostate, humming steadily and unrelentingly, it had him feeling overwhelmed within moments.

He sagged against Scout, moaning and mouthing nonsense into his collarbone, more desperate noises rising up from the back of his throat. Scout pet encouragingly over his shoulders, saying all sorts of sweet little things that Demo could barely process when it felt like his soul was about to damn near leave his fucking body.

He jolted as Sniper reached around and beneath him to cup and roll at his balls and to fist his erection in steady motions, grinding idly against his thigh again, not demanding, not really even asking, just scratching an itch. Not that Demo could particularly pay attention to it.

The first time getting off wasn’t a problem, but this second time often ended with the other two being finished first and needing to end him off with a hand or mouth. At one point Scout had finished while Demo was fucking him and he’d urged Demo to fuck the space between his thighs, and that was damn nice. The point was, though, often his stamina on the second go-around could be an inconvenience.

This time, he was concentrating hard on not coming undone within five damn minutes of the thing being turned on.

The two of them went easy on him, at least, sensing that all of this was bordering on being too much for him, movements slow and gentle, handling him like he was something delicate, and had they not so carefully pulled him apart at the very seams he might’ve had it in him to be irked by it, but as it was he couldn’t help but agree.

“Good?” Scout asked softly, pressing a kiss below his eyepatch again, and it was only then that Demo processed the tears leaking out of the corner of his good eye and dripping to land in Scout’s hair.

“So good,” he agreed, practically wheezed, and now he was the one hiding his face in Scout’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He absentmindedly worried a mark into Scout’s neck, distantly feeling the edge creep into view, and he heard Sniper whisper some kind of encouragement and felt Scout’s arms tighten around him before he finally careened over it, crying out in his pleasure, hips jolting raggedly as he tried to chase the high for just a little bit longer.

For a bit, he couldn’t process much of anything. The toy was out, and he was lying on his side, cradled between the two of them, held tightly. His breath was shuddery.

“We’ve got you, Tav,” Sniper was murmuring, gentle and soft.

“We love you,” Scout was assuring, quiet and tender.

And he drifted off like that, and couldn’t seem to remember a single time he’d ever felt sad in his life, his chest far too full to make way for bad memories.

God, he loved them.

[artificialqueens]

two birds pt 1 (Trixya) - trixiespads

(AN: this is part one of a two part fic. This is not my first trixya but it is my first submission to AF. please enjoy!)

“It’s two weeks.”

“Ya, two fuckin weeks, bitch! Think about all the memes you’re gonna miss out on. All the drag names I’m gonna come up with while you’re gone. What the fuck.”

Katya rolls her eyes but there’s mirth as she folds her yoga pants and slides them into the suitcase. Her glasses slide down her nose and before she knows it there’s Trixie’s delicate little man hand sliding them back up into place from where she sits cross legged on the bed next to the case. Husband. For fucking real. She looks tired, exhausted in her own right from doing the same amount of touring but even in this lighting she looks pretty - cheeks were sunken in a little, she doesn’t eat well on the road despite Katya harassing her. It makes her stomach ache a little bit, but Trixie does as Trixie does.

Katya just smirks, lack of mirth in the corners of her mouth - more amusement than adoration, and then sighs.

“You’re gonna be fine. You can still text me! Jesus.”

“And look like an asshole while iMessage tells me ‘delivered’ and not ‘read?’ I’m not that desperate, okay. I guess I’ll just have to miss you like some kind of pilgrim. This is ridiculous. You promised. I feel like Roxxxy at a bus stop.”

“AAAAH! Oh my god, you wretched whore! She cried, those were real tears!”

“Ya, and so will mine be when you ditch me for hippes!”

She looks fucking petulant. Like a child. Katya’s heart aches for a second. Only a second. She’s stronger than that.

“Bitch, you can always come with me!”

“BITCH, does this hog body look like it does yoga? Who you think I am?”

Katya, is again, rolling her eyes and she punctuates her discontent with the slam of the suitcase closed.

“It’s two weeks. You will live.”

“I’m gonna die, you mean.”

“Will you really die without me, Tracy? Who’s gonna drive me to the airport? Certainly none of the other friends I have that I don’t care about.”

Trixie raises both eyebrows and truly looks like a petulant housewife who got the credit card taken away from her - legs crossed at the ankles, short shorts that show off that fucking tan, the muscles in her arms after that tempestuous, arduous fitness journey. Katya narrows her own eyes in response and desperately tries to ignore the stirring in her stomach.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. Now, give mama a kiss.”

Trixie purses her lips but does as she’s told, sits up on her knees and presses a kiss to Katya’s cheek. Trixie grimaces against the rough grain of her stubble.

“Now, there’s a good girl. You gonna drive me to the airport or make me take an uber?”

—–

It’s not fair.

Louisiana is boring but shows are not and every time she texts Katya there’s no one there on the other end and she sulks. She’s not used to not getting 18 texts in a row from Katya’s never ending stream of consciousness about whatever new topic she’s on next. If they thought UNHhhh was bad, they should see their texts. Or, maybe they shouldn’t, because there is quite possibly some incriminating things in here.

It’s been three days and it’s already been three too long. Sure, they go months without seeing each other only to meet back up again for filming, but Katya is always AVAILABLE. She always texts, she always calls, she always FaceTimes. Right now, Trixie is alone with self-indulgent thoughts about what Katya would do if Trixie disappeared for two weeks on a yoga retreat.

Not that that would ever happen.

But still.

She’s playing through her album, writing new things, just messing with her guitar when the FaceTime ringtone starts blaring. She reaches for it and when she sees it’s Katya she drops everything and slides to answer.

“Barbara, I’m stretching again!”

“I hate you and I miss you. Are you done yet?”

Katya rolls her eyes in the shitty lighting, but she’s grinning. “It’s only been three days! Shut up! What are you doing?”

“I was playing guitar and brainstorming my suicide note. What are you doing?”

“I was playing with my pussy and brainstorming MY suicide note! What a coincidence! I miss you, too, Trixie. How’s the gig?”

Trixie smiles, this time it’s a warm smile because she does miss Katya, and it’s crazy that this time it feels a hundred times worse.

“It’s great, but nothing is truly great when you miss your stupid best friend. How’s your fitness journey? Are you high? Did everyone bring weed?”

Katya grins back at her. “Yes, there’s weed, but no I’m not high right now. Stone cold sober. I’m trying to stay sober for this retreat. It’s something stupid I’m trying: health. Crazy fad all you millennials keep hyping up.”

“She says with a cigarette between her fingers.”

“I never said I was smart.”

“You never said you weren’t, either. But, I hope you’re having fun.”

“I am, and I’ll be back before you know it, okay? I just wanted to call and make sure you were still alive. I love you.”

Katya says it and Trixie’s stomach drops. Her mouth goes dry and a blush is creeping across her cheeks and the world turns upside down and her heart falls out of her asshole and… and….

“I love you, too, Katya. Call me when you can. Good night.”

“Good night, love.”

The screen goes black.

—–

Trixie wants to die. Metaphorically. Not literally. Because when your best friend tells you they love you it should mean nothing more than that - a platonic declaration of true non romantic feelings you have for someone you hold dear. It shouldn’t feel as though you’ve been drowning your whole life and the minute that other person says it, it feels like they grab you by the collar and pull you up for air. Was Katya the breath she needed all along? What’s really fucking gay about this is that the day seems brighter. Colors seem more vibrant. Her heart is light.

But, also, there’s the existential dread she feels in her bones at the thought of everything she knows, loves, and holds dear crashing down on her and her entire life getting ruined because she fell in love when it was only ever platonic.

Katya comes back today and she’s spent two weeks reading into absolutely everything Katya has ever said or done that could possibly mean she loves Trixie, too. What’s super immature is that she doesn’t have the guts to ask Katya herself - she just reads fan theories and watches videos of Katya talking about wanting to fuck Trixie. There’s wanting to fuck and there’s wanting to be in love. Trixie can’t just fuck her. She can’t. She’d die every day until she died if Katya ever fucked her once and then left her. She’d never be the same and she curses the part of her brain that tells her she has to love someone before she can give herself to them, but then again just fucking Katya would never satisfy her. She wants to love Katya. She wants to pick her up from the airport and cook her dinner. She wants to slide her arms around Katya from behind while she’s doing the dishes and kiss her neck. She wants to lay with Katya on the couch and watch MASH with her. She wants to smell Katya’s morning breath. She wants to get into stupid couples fights with her.

She wants to exist with her.

She’s at the gate waiting, backwards hat, tank top and all. She thanks god that no ones recognized her out of drag and prays that no one does. She wants this moment to be between them.

Moment? What the fuck.

Trixie shoves her hands into her pockets and paces. She’s making this a bigger deal than it is. They’re best friends. Ya, fuck Tracy for figuring out she’s in love with her. Has she always been? Probably!

No one ever said Tracy was smart.

Trixie has her back to the gate so when she feels two arms snake around her middle and a dick press between her asscheeks she screams - literally.

Katya is behind her fully losing her shit, laughing so hard she might be crying.

“Katya, what the fuck?!”

“Boner city!”

Trixie has to stop herself from screaming more, and she slaps Katya on the arms before pulling her into a hug. Katya’s hands go straight for Trixie’s ass - not a single fuck given for the myriad of people watching Trixie get harassed.

“I’m sorry, it’s been two weeks and I’m so horny right now.”

“You’re fucking gross.”

Katya looks completely different yet completely the same - the usual sunkenness of her eyes has depleted. She looks like she’s gotten actual sleep. Katya smells like lavender and it irritates her that she likes it so much. Katya looks completely rested and rejuvenated and Trixie is only a little jealous. Katya’s arms snake around Trixie’s neck and they hug for a long moment this time, bodies pressed together from chest to groin, taking deep breaths, breathing each other in. Katya smells like lavender and wood, fresh air and cotton. This is so gay.

“I missed you.”

“You’ve been without me before. You went a whole 24 years without me before we met.”

They finally pull away and Katya is grinning, ear to ear. She looks happy. Trixie wonders if it has anything to do with her.

“Ya, and I wasn’t famous or rich before I met you so look at me now. Now you know why I missed you so much!”

Katya just shakes her head and laces her fingers with Trixie’s. “I’m starving - take me home and we’ll order pizza.”

—–

They’re sitting on the couch laughing so loud the neighbors might call the cops soon. Trixie’s face and chest are warm from the wine and Katya is loose and tangle-free from the weed. They’ve slipped right back home into whatever they were before. Trixie feels weird and she isn’t sure if she’s drunk or not. She’s a bottle and a half in but she feels calm, not drunk.

“What’s wrong, Tracy? You keep looking at me like that.”

Trixie rolls her eyes and pours herself another glass of Rosé. “I’m not looking at you any type of way! I’m just happy you’re back. Neither of us are leaving the state for a week. I’ve got you back and I’m taking advantage of it. Do you want more water?”

Katya shakes her head. “No, I’m fine, but you look very deep in thought. Share with the class, please?”

“I don’t know, I just - I don’t know. I missed you.”

“You keep saying that.”

Katya’s tone seems pointed. She leans forward to grab her pack of cigarettes and makes gornthe balcony without saying another word. Trixie let’s her alone and watches her from the couch. The cigarette is second nature to Katya - she wields it with a reckless abandon that seems like she’ll drop it any moment, but she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’d never let it fall. Her left arm is crossed over her chest and her right is resting on it, easy access to the cigarette as she gazes out at the cityscape.

Trixie is aching. She needs to be honest. She follows Katya outside, wine glass in tow.

“So why did we never try it?”

“What, you being honest with me?” Katya doesn’t even look over at her.

“Ouch. You ever think that some things aren’t your business?” That gets Katya’s attention. Her head snaps over. She looks like she’s been slapped. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Trixie…” Her face softens and she ditches the cigarette, douses it with her shoe. “I’m not… you’re acting weird. You’ve been getting like this lately. I wanna know what I did wrong. I’m a grown man, you can tell me. You’re my best friend. Aren’t we supposed to, like… tell each other shit? Are you really that pissed at me for going on the retreat?”

“Oh, my god. No. I get it, I’m younger than you, but do you really think I’m immature to boot? If that’s what we’re doing then tell me - did you fuck anyone on that retreat?”

Katya’s jaw drops. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Why is that any of your business? Why do you care?”

“No fuckin’ reason. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t bring anything home.” Trixie leaves Katya and her jaw out on the balcony and goes back inside. Her blood is boiling, her heart is racing, and she wants to cry. Maybe she is drunk. She grabs the wine bottle and goes into the kitchen to dump the liquor out. She is trying to breathe deeply, desperately trying to find herself again. She hears the glass door slide open and closed, and she hears Katya’s feet slapping against the hard wood into the kitchen.

“That was too far.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. I’m gonna go.”

Trixie’s heart falls out of her asshole.

“Um, please don’t do that?” Trixie turns around and sees that Katya’s eyes are wet. Now they’re both gonna start fucking crying. Welcome home, Katya. “Please don’t fucking do that. Please. I’m sorry, and I’m… I think I’m drunk. I’m sorry.”

“What is your problem, Trixie? I go away for two weeks and tell you about one guy and as soon as I get home you do this. I don’t understand. We are not a thing, Brian.”

“So, tell me why. Tell me why we’ve never tried it!”

“Don’t act like I’ve never tried, girl. ‘Oh, it’s professional. Oh, it’ll mess things up. Oh, it’s weird for me.’ I tried, and you were never interested.” Trixie stays silent and Katya’s eyes grow wide again. “Oh, don’t you fucking tell me you’re interested now, Brian. What the fuck?”

Trixie bites her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be. How long?”

“What-”

“You know exactly what I’m asking. How long, Brian?”

Trixie won’t meet his eyes. “A while.”

“How long is a WHILE, Tracy?! A month? Years?!”

“Oh, okay, cool! Don’t fuckin’ yell at me! Probably since forever! I was probably born with a predisposition for you! It’s been a fuckin’ while and god forbid I listen to my gut or my brian for once and finally realize that I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can say. There you go.”

It’s Katya’s turn to be silent. She doesn’t say anything, she just studies Trixie’s face.

“I’ve loved you since you told us you were a hair and makeup artist in the workroom. Since fucking Fame asked you for a Red Bull. It’s been forever for me, Trixie. Through everything, it’s been forever.”

It’s a pure love, Trixie realizes - the kind that loves you even when you don’t deserve it. Trixie didn’t.

“I can’t… I can’t do this, though, Katya. You of all people can’t break my heart. I’m… that I am not strong enough to survive. I could live with loving you and never getting to show you, but I can’t live with knowing that you’re gonna hurt me.”

Katya nods. “I’m… I’m a drug addict. You know that. I’m… not the best at making decisions. I act impulsively. I sleep around. I’m 34 and have yet to have a serious relationship. But I know that I’m in love with you and that I want to be with you.”

“You can’t just fuck me and then only see me for filming. You can’t do that to me. You can’t keep fucking random trade on the road.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I won’t fuck random trade anymore. I won’t love you and leave you, but you gotta understand - I’m fucking scared. I’m so terrified. You’re the first person in my life that’s ever understood me in the way that you do and I’m so scared to let you in and then you realize how insane I truly am and you break my heart. You can’t break mine either.”

“No promises, then.”

Trixie takes a step forward. There are no cameras here, no fans to please and no press to impress. They’re alone, truly. This won’t be for the butt of a joke or for laughs on screen. Trixie feels like she’s gonna have a god damn heart attack.

“No promises.”

[onkeywritings]

We’re Up All Night to Get Lucky

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: some sex-talk and plenty of drinking alcohol. (No actual sex tho because I suck)

Tonight is going to be the worst night in Jinki’s life. It’s going to surpass the past club nights because tonight Kibum has a certain look in his eyes and Jinki’s heart can’t take it when he knows it isn’t directed at him the way he wants it to be. 

Kibum chugs down the last of his beer before he leans closer to the mirror to place his eye liner perfectly and Jinki automatically turns around so he doesn’t have to watch his best friend and crush do something that shouldn’t look so sexy.  

“Tonight’s gonna be the best night ever!” Kibum says as he turns around to look at Jinki who’s staring at his feet. Jinki looks up in surprise to find his best friend looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Jinki evades the silent question by drinking the last of his beer as well. “We’re gonna find someone to take your virginity, I fucking promise.” 

Kibum sounds tipsy already but Jinki knows better than to assume his best friend is affected by the alcohol. 

“I’m not a virgin,” Jinki mumbles but Kibum dismisses him because to Kibum it doesn’t count if he wasn’t the one that found the girl that fucked Jinki. 

That’s where the real problem lies, however. If Jinki was straight, hell, if he was bi, it wouldn’t be difficult to find a girl, but Jinki is pretty gay and there’s no way he’ll ever have sex with another girl. It happened once when he was too young to have sex and Jinki realised that he didn’t like it. 

Kibum, however, doesn’t know that Jinki is fully gay, 100 % homosexual, because Jinki hasn’t been able to find a way to say it out loud without telling on himself and his crush on the other man as well. 

“Ah, shit, we’re late already,” Kibum suddenly exclaims, looking at the wall clock. Jinki is just happy the focus isn’t on his lacking sex life anymore. “I promised to meet Jonghyun at Palace for Happy Hour and we’re already late.” 

Kibum turns to look at Jinki whose sitting on the couch and he rolls his eyes while he grabs his leather jacket. Jinki feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of a well-dressed, sexy best friend he shouldn’t have feelings for.  

“Come on… Free beer, no? Move your ass, Jinks or you’re paying for 10 tequila shots.” 

Jinki winces at the thought of paying for Kibum’s alcohol and stands from the couch so he can grab his own jean jacket before he slams the front door to his apartment, leaving the mess inside behind. 

“You’re late,” Jonghyun shouts over the loud music when the other two find him in the bar. Kibum rolls his eyes and takes a sip of Jonghyun’s strong pink drink. 

“Why the girly drink?” he asks but grimaces anyway when the strong drink hits his tastebuds. Jinki doesn’t dare take a sip of it. Jonghyun has a habit of buying fancy cocktails that is much stronger than their appearance give away. Jonghyun just laughs and shrugs a little before he drinks again. 

Kibum leans over the counter and orders a beer and a black rose shot. Jinki wants to buy a beer he can nurse throughout the evening but both Jonghyun and Kibum disagree with him and orders him a Southside that has more gin than Jinki is used to. 

“Guys…” he tries but is interrupted when Kibum spots a couple of girls that has just entered the club. 

“Jinki!” he says and leans against Jinki’s shoulder so he can point to them. They’re giggling, already drunk, Jinki guesses. They’re staggering in their high heels, constantly pulling their too-short dresses down, revealing their cleavage in the process. 

If Jinki had been straight he would have been all over them, they’re beautiful, brown hair flowing over their shoulders in soft curls and eyes highlighted by beautifully applied make-up. But Jinki isn’t straight and he just shakes his head. Jonghyun almost drops his jaw before he whistles at Jinki.

“Hard to please, eh?” he says and Jinki just sends him a small smirk before he takes a sip of his drink so he doesn’t have to answer. 

The bass is pumping, Jonghyun has found his flirt on the dance floor and has left the two of them at the bar, Kibum threatens with the tequila shots and Jinki keeps stalling because he doesn’t want to get fully drunk. Staying sober is not in Kibum’s plans, however. He has downed another 3 beers and multiple shots that people have shared with him. 

Jinki is a little envious of Kibum’s good looks and his sociable personality. If there is someone in this world that can walk into a club and own it, it’s Kibum. 

“How about that girl?” Kibum shouts into his ear and Jinki frowns while he follows the line of Kibum’s finger. It’s a slim girl, black hair in a bob cut dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a flowing top. She doesn’t look fully comfortable with all the attention she’s getting and she latches onto what Jinki assumes is her friend the second the other girl exists the bathroom. Jinki just shakes his head. 

Kibum sighs out loud but the sound is drowned by the loud music. 

“We’re not going home before you get laid, you know,” Kibum says and Jinki just closes his eyes for a short moment. It’s going to be a long night.

2 strong cocktails, 5 beers, 3 shots and 15 girls later, Kibum decides that they need to go to another club. Jinki just follows him into the cold night air. He feels the alcohol hit him strong as he walks from Palace to the next club and he can almost feel the hangover he’ll have tomorrow. It makes him chuckle, though. 

The feeling of being tipsy is getting to him and he likes it. It’s freeing. Kibum is too focused on dragging Jinki to the next club and into the warmth again to realise that Jinki is clingier than usual. 

“Hey,” a girl says and sits down beside Jinki. Jinki looks at her and realises he’s alone. He sends her a polite smile and turns back to his beer. “Are you here alone?” she asks and Jinki shakes his head slightly.

“My friend’s here as well,” he says and tries not to make conversation. The girl leans closer to him, though and rests her hand on his thigh. Jinki frowns a little and she giggles when she removes her hand again.

“I’m sorry.” 

Jinki accepts the apology and soon learns that the girl is named Luna, she’s visiting her sister after a year abroad in the states and she’s a great conversation partner if it wasn’t because she’s also flirting a lot and Jinki can’t find a way out of it. 

He looks desperately for Kibum but Kibum has disappeared. Figures his best friend wouldn’t come back to the table if he thinks Jinki has a chance of getting laid. 

When she leans closer so she can whisper into his ear, Jinki leans away and closer to the wall in panic.

“I’m sorry, you’re nice and all but I’m gay.” 

Jinki doesn’t know where the courage comes from but Luna blinks wide-eyed in shock for a moment before she starts laughing. Jinki is so confused. She just pats his thigh a little before she slides out of her seat and sends him a smirk. She soon disappears into the crowd and Kibum comes back like Luna leaving is his cue.

“Who was she?” he asks and Jinki has a feeling that Kibum knows exactly who she is. He doesn’t say anything, though, and just shrugs it off before he can drink one of the shots Kibum is carrying on a tray. He definitely needs the alcohol.

When Jinki later hurries off to the bathroom, he finds Luna making out with a short-haired girl with big boobs, and it only adds so much to his confusion that he decides to forget it altogether. 

“You’re fucking impossible!” Kibum says and sits on the table so he can lean close to Jinki and glare at him directly. It’s incredibly difficult not to close the distance between them but Jinki manages and exhales deeply when Kibum leans away again. “So many hot girls and you fucking reject every one of them. But I’m not giving up, there has to be someone in this world that you want to fuck.” 

Yes, Jinki thinks. There is definitely someone he would want to fuck in this world but this someone doesn’t have a vagina. 

“And who wants to fuck you too,” Kibum mumbles under his breath and Jinki shoves him mock-offended. Kibum mutters something about his hearing being illegal. 

“Right,” Jinki says and Kibum just glares at him.

“If you don’t find anyone here, we’re leaving for The Flux.”

Jinki groans but lets Kibum pull him up and out anyway. He’s going to spend far too many money tonight.

The Flux is heated and apparently someone is also shooting a porn because there are half-naked girls dancing around on the dance floor and lying on the bar, begging for people to fuck them. Kibum’s eyes light up and he pushes Jinki towards the girls but Jinki has no intention of fucking any girls or showing his dick to the internet so he stands firmly on the floor, ignoring Kibum’s grunts when his strength suffers under his alcohol intake. 

“Come ooooon,” Kibum whines and Jinki shakes his head. 

“No Kibum.” 

There is a line and even though Jinki had promised Kibum to not be a downer tonight, he is not going to cross the line with fucking a girl in a porn. No way. Kibum sighs but nods anyway. 

A man walks passed them with his dick out as he finds a free girl and starts fucking her on the bar counter. They turn to look at each other before they decide to leave The Flux again. 

It’s 2.30 AM and they’re walking down the street, Kibum swaying a little in a barely there wind. Jinki looks at him with a fond gaze, one of those he doesn’t usually allow himself because they are so obvious, but he’s too drunk to care and Kibum is too drunk to notice. 

When Kibum starts avoiding the lines between the pavement stones and almost topples over, Jinki starts laughing. Kibum frowns at him but starts laughing as well when Jinki trips over his own feet.

They end up on the pavement, laughing. People look at them, sends them disapproving looks and shouts at them, but Jinki ignores them as he leans closer to his best friend in laughter. They calm down a few minutes later, still sitting on the pavement, blocking some of it for people moving from club to club. 

“We could just go home,” Jinki suggests and Kibum shakes his head.

“No way man, you need to get laid.”

Jinki rolls his eyes and Kibum shoves him. 

“Why don’t you just give up? I don’t wanna fuck girls,” Jinki says and only when Kibum’s raises an eyebrow realises how it sounds. Kibum ignores the suggestions or doesn’t realise they’re there because he says nothing about being gay when he answers.

“I don’t want you to go around and be virgin. I can’t let my best friend have that reputation.” 

Jinki rolls his eyes and Kibum smirks.

“I’m not a virgin,” he says exasperated but with a smile on his lips. It’s too difficult not to smile in the presence of Kibum with alcohol warming up his body.

“Doesn’t count, I wasn’t there to witness it.” 

Jinki frowns and scrunches up his nose.

“Ew,” he says and Kibum laughs out loud and shoves him again. 

“Pussy,” Kibum says in between laughter before he gets up. 

He helps Jinki up as well before he brushes imaginary dust off of his clothes and starts walking towards the next club, Jinki doesn’t know the name. He’s observing Kibum’s swaying ass in his tight jeans and has to restrain himself before touching. He shouldn’t be drinking more alcohol tonight. 

Kibum doesn’t agree with Jinki’s no-more-alcohol decision when they hit Club Frenzy, though, and soon enough, Jinki is drinking a whiskey shot while Kibum is joining a group of people that are going to do body tequila. Jinki sinks to the back of the club and watches them from afar, something akin to jealousy stirring in his stomach as Kibum licks the liquid from a girl’s skinny stomach. 

It’s not that Jinki would prefer that Kibum drank the tequila from his defined stomach, not really, it’s just that seeing Kibum’s tongue on someone else’s body makes Jinki quite unhappy. It’s the best way to explain it, really. 

He doesn’t notice when he bumps into a tall, slim boy and he doesn’t recognise the other man’s face before he has enveloped Jinki in a hug.

“Hyung!” he shouts and lets go of Jinki and forces Jinki to focus on him instead of on Kibum that seems to be agreeing to doing another body tequila. 

The boy has blue hair and a soft face but his eyes are rimmed with dark kohl and there’s a glint in them that tells Jinki that he’s out tonight to get laid as well.

“Taemin,” Jinki greets in a nod and Taemin lights up in a smile when he notices that Jinki is still trying to look at Kibum. 

“Did you tell him?” he asks and Jinki blinks, taken aback by Taemin’s sharp observations. He hisses, unable to actually say the word no out loud but Taemin catches the drift and laughs at him before he shakes his head. “Better say it soon.” 

Then he leaves with an Emerald Isle in his hands and Jinki wishes he had stayed so he could have drunk the entirety of Taemin’s cocktail. Someone screams from the group doing body tequila and Jinki looks over to find his best friend shirtless with a wide smile. This is stupid and the way his stomach drops is enough of a mood killer.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” he tells Kibum when he finally gets Kibum to step down from the table. Kibum leans forward, the alcohol now fully controlling his body and Jinki hiccups when he comes too close. It has Kibum laughing. 

“You look fucking funny when you hiccup,” he says and leans onto Jinki’s shoulder so he doesn’t fall in his laughter. Jinki sighs a little. He needs more alcohol if Kibum insists on staying. 

“Kibum, please.”

“But we’re having fun and you still haven’t had sex so we’re gonna party all night!” 

Jinki wants to leave Kibum there but he can’t just leave his best friend like that. Instead he drags Kibum to the bar and orders a glass of water for the drunk one of them and a strong shot for himself. He doesn’t want to babysit Kibum so he might as well get drunk too. 

The drunker he gets, the more difficult it is to restrain himself and his feelings. He excuses touching Kibum’s ass with people pushing him on the dance floor and embraces Kibum far more often than he would on a normal day. 

He even finds himself kissing Kibum’s cheek and their new friends seem to encourage whatever intimacy that’s showing between them.

“I didn’t know he could be this intimate,” a girl says in their small booth and Kibum turns around to look at Jinki that’s currently hanging onto his shoulder, drunk out of his mind. 

“Oh yeah, he gets real cute!” Kibum says and Jinki flushes a bright red. Nobody really expects it, however, when Kibum leans down to capture Jinki’s lips. It’s just a peck, it should be a friendly kiss, one of those kisses that teenage girls have with their best girlfriends. A platonic kiss that means nothing but ‘I love this person platonically’. 

The moment Kibum’s lips touches Jinki’s, though, something clicks in his mind and he hangs on. He doesn’t want to let go when he wraps his arms fully around Kibum and lets his lips melt with Kibum’s. 

Kibum tastes of stingy alcohol and a cigarette he had hours ago but it’s the best thing Jinki has ever tasted. Jinki could get drunk on Kibum alone if it wasn’t because Kibum pulls away and looks at Jinki with a gaze Jinki can’t quite decipher. 

“What?” Jinki asks sheepishly and then lets go of Kibum so he can climb out of the booth and flee. He tips over a couple of Sourz shots in his haste as he hurries to get away from his best friend. He can only hope the hangover will erase the kiss so it doesn’t get awkward between them. 

Jinki only gets to the toilet door when someone stumbles into him from behind and holds onto him, preventing him from running further. Jinki feels a little nauseous but he stays on the spot as he listens to whoever has grabbed him breathe heavily. 

The music is lower here, low enough to make a conversation, and Jinki would be lying if he said it wasn’t making him anxious.

“Jinks,” the man behind him says and Jinki freezes because damn, he doesn’t want to discuss their kiss right now. It was supposed to be platonic and it became everything but. 

“Eh?” he says intelligently and Kibum kisses his neck, sucks a mark at his skin and teethes with the skin at his jawline. Shit. “Kibum,” he tries again but Kibum ignores him as he continues to kiss and bite at his skin. 

“If you don’t wanna fuck pussies, do you… perhaps… wanna fuck dicks?” 

Jinki is so surprised by the question that he turns around in Kibum’s hold and looks at him with widened eyes. Kibum looks gorgeous, his eyes glazed with what is probably alcohol but Jinki swears he sees something else in them. 

“Tell me,” Kibum says again and Jinki swallows. He nods a tiny nod and Kibum releases him and spins around once while he drags his hand through his hair. 

“You!” he says and points to Jinki when he finally stands on his feet, facing Jinki. Jinki points back at himself.

“Me?” he asks and Kibum nods. 

“Fuck Jonghyun and Minho.”

Jinki isn’t entirely sure what Jonghyun and Minho has to do with his gayness nor does he understand what they have to do with Kibum and him getting so piss-drunk they’ll probably both have a blackout tomorrow. What a shame.

Jinki doesn’t get to mourn the loss of his brain cells and possibly his memory of the best kiss ever before Kibum kisses him again. It gets heated quickly and Jinki doesn’t understand. His brain blacks out and he lets his body speak when he wraps his hands around Kibum again and lets his fingers tangle in Kibum’s black hair. 

Kibum’s tongue prods at Jinki’s lips and it’s developing in a ridiculous speed that none of them can keep up with but neither of them wants to stop it either. 

“For fuck’s sake,” someone says and pushes the kissing pair to the side so he can hurry into the toilet. Kibum laughs when he hits the wall and Jinki blinks confused. He understands nothing but maybe it’s better this way.

“Come,” Kibum says and grabs his hand. Their fingers intertwine as they leave the club. 

It’s 5 AM and the sun is rising as they walk down the streets towards Jinki’s apartment. Jinki doesn’t know exactly why they’re on their way to his apartment but he also doesn’t care much, not when he’s holding Kibum’s warm hand and his heart is beating faster and harder than usual. 

They walk in silence until they bass has quieted down and the streets are mostly empty, a few early commuters on their way to work. Then Kibum turns around and Jinki stumbles into him, unable to stop so quickly. 

“Shit,” he mutters but doesn’t get to apologise before Kibum kisses him again. Jinki is running on autopilot every time Kibum kisses him. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to depress himself further. 

Kibum still tastes of alcohol and maybe they shouldn’t have sex when they’re both so ridiculously drunk that they can’t walk in a straight line but the thought still stirs something in Jinki’s stomach, something he would rather be without. 

When he opens the front door to his apartment, Kibum is nippling on the skin on his neck and clinging to his back with all his powers, his finger nails digging painfully into Jinki’s shoulders. Jinki doesn’t mind the pain, though, not when the pleasure is greater. 

He slams the door behind them while he walks Kibum to the couch and puts him down. Kibum pulls Jinki with him and fumbles with his t-shirt. Jinki doesn’t stop him until Kibum lets his hands run down Jinki’s naked chest. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t…” he says. Having sex with your best friend and crush while drunk out of your mind sounds like a mistake. Kibum groans and pinches Jinki’s nipples. 

“I promised you that you were going to get laid tonight, you fucker,” he growls and Jinki winces when Kibum lets his nails drag down his chest, leaving red marks behind. Jinki isn’t entirely sure he needs to get laid tonight but his body sure wants it nonetheless. He groans and dips down so he can suck on Kibum’s sensitive skin. 

He sucks a mark on his collarbone and then another on his shoulder and Kibum arches his back in a groan. 

Getting their clothes off is harder than it should be but there are too many limbs and too little coordination and they both end up on the floor, groaning in pain. It should kill the mood but when they lean towards each other, lips meeting and warm skin touching, the mood returns and their kisses easily turn hungry again. Hands wander and marks are scratched into perfect skin as they continue to explore each other.

When the sun light shines through the blinds in the living room their kisses turn sloppy and their minds become muzzled with exhaustion. Jinki presses a kiss to a sleeping Kibum’s cheek before he too falls asleep on the living room floor, butt naked beside his best friend. 

Jinki has a hangover when he wakes up around noon with a naked Kibum next to him, gently removing hair from his sticky forehead. Jinki doesn’t remember the entirety of the night, but he does remember kissing Kibum and possible ruining their friendship.

Kibum doesn’t act like their relationship is ruined, however. It has Jinki confused but he’s also too hungover to be confused so he just groans and buries his fact in Kibum’s shoulder. Kibum puts his arm around Jinki and holds him close. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?” Kibum asks from the couch where he’s eating a slice of greasy pizza. Jinki sits on the floor, slurping noodles from his China box. 

“I did… kinda.” 

Kibum raises an eyebrow.

“Right,” he says and then continues in a mocking imitation of Jinki’s voice. “I think I might also like boys but I don’t know. I’m probably bi.” 

Jinki cringes a little. Kibum smiles.

“I fucking thought you were ace when you kept rejecting all those girls and ‘probably bi’ isn’t exactly being gay.” 

Jinki winces and exhales in a sigh.

“Okay okay, you’re right. I didn’t know how to tell you because I’d probably end up blurting out something embarrassing like Kibum, I fucking love you and I don’t want to fuck anyone but you.” 

The words register in the silence that follows and Kibum slips from the couch to the floor so he sits in front of Jinki.

“Damn, I wish you had been that straightforward before. That would’ve saved me the heartache of setting you up with someone else.” 

Jinki blinks confused.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kibum removes the China box from Jinki’s hands and puts it on the table. 

“Remember when Jonghyun and Minho introduced us?” 

Jinki frowns and tries to remember but comes up short so he shakes his head. It’s been years and he has a hangover. Kibum can’t expect him to remember insignificant things like that, at least not when he’s hungover. Kibum snorts. 

“Okay, well, but at that time I found you pretty hot. I mean, I still do, even when you’re dressed in a bathrobe and grossly hungover…”

“And whose fault is that?” Jinki interrupts and Kibum shushes him.

“Shut up, will you? Jonghyun and Minho told me you were 80/20 into girls so I just accepted you weren’t into me, even when you said you thought you were bi. Besides, fucking usually ruins friendships, no? So I backed away but then you kissed me fucking back yesterday. Shit, if I had known all I had to do was get you drunk out of your ass and kiss you, then I would’ve done so years ago.”

Jinki blushes slightly but lets Kibum takes his hands anyway. 

“We never really got around to fuck, though? So we stayed up all night to get laid and fell asleep before we actually did anything,” Kibum says and sounds disappointed. Jinki laughs out loud and shoves Kibum to the ground.

“I thought you said we stayed up all night to get lucky and I sure did get lucky. We can fix the not-fucking-thing.” 

Kibum frowns.

“I have a hangover,” he says but then smirks. “Oh.” 

Jinki reciprocates the smirk before he dips down to kiss Kibum. Their foreheads hit and both men groan. It doesn’t kill their laughter, however, and the kiss is sweeter and despite the gross combination of alcohol, cigarette smoke and greasy pizza on Kibum’s breath, it’s a much better kiss than the previous ones. Jinki is hungover, in love and so fucking lucky.

[gendrie]

Summary:  Arya is a rogue assassin and Gendry is the elite super solider sent to eliminate her. But when Gendry finally catches up to his target he finds a young girl with a conflicted heart just like his.

Rating: PG for the curses

Notes: One shot based on this lil picspam 

“Have a seat, Bull.”

Gendry did as he was ordered but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling that had accompanied him since his summons. The man sitting across from him was no one he knew. He was a suit. Gendry idly wondered if this was the one who selected him for this program in the first place. He never saw the men who were truly in charge. The suit slid a file across the table.

“Your newest assignment.”

Gendry’s eyes roamed over the first page. He saw a date of birth and quickly did the math.

“She’s sixteen. A sixteen year old girl.”

“She’s an assassin.”

Gendry repeated her age.

“Waters, this girl has killed more than two dozen people, that we know of, among her victims was Lem Lemoncloak.” Gendry knew the name. He was a fellow Brother. And a mean son of a bitch if Gendry recalled correctly. Gendry realized now what mission had killed him. Gendry was his replacement. “This isn’t some teeny bopper. She’s a dangerous killer and she needs to be stopped.”

Gendry didn’t reply to that. He studied the file more closely.

“She’s doesn’t seem to be associating with the Faceless Men anymore.”

“As far as we can tell she’s gone rogue. We don’t know why.”

“A crisis on conscience?” Gendry offered, smartly.

His superiors indulged him with a smirk. “Not likely. She’s killed twice since fleeing Braavos. And now she’s returned to Westeros. She’s a national security threat.”

“Our latest intelligence suggests she’s settled down, as much as she ever does, in the Riverlands. A town called Stoney Sept. We’re sending you to eliminate her. If should be easy considering….your abilities.” What does he think? Gendry wondered. That I’ll crush her throat with my bare hands? He almost shuddered. Almost. He wasn’t a green boy any longer. Gendry had seen and done too many things. This left him feeling cold but he was used to that. After Gendry joined their Brotherhood the choices that left him feeling good had diminished rather quickly.

He picked up the file and walked from the room without a backwards glance.

The Target looked even younger in person. She was short, barely over five foot, and skinny with brown hair hanging around her face. She was wearing torn jeans, an oversized hoodie, and sneakers.

She was just a kid.

Gendry had been watching her for five days. She had no routine. She stayed at a different place every night. She seemed to be friends with everyone. She even dropped off his radar completely for one of those days. She wasn’t settling down, though that was for sure. She was waiting.

As the sun went down she headed towards the north of town. He followed her from a great distance. She hadn’t given any indication that she was on to him, like running, but one couldn’t be too careful when dealing with a teenage assassin.  

She ended up at an abandoned building just outside the Stoney Sept. Once it had been a home. But that was before the war. He waited until the house had been dark for hours before moving in.

She was waiting for him. Her first shot missed just barely. He used a fraction of his strength to twist the gun out of her hand. He threw it straight out a window that shattered into the night. By that time she had retrieved a crowbar. He ducked as she swung. She put up one hell of a fight. He had to give her that. She was quick but he was stronger. It all happened so fast when he finally pinned her to the ground and pulled out his gun.

She stared up at him with dark eyes and Gendry’s finger froze on the trigger.

It was all the time she needed to knock his hand to the side. A bold move, Gendry thought. She retrieved the fallen crow bar and swung. 

Everything went dark.

Gendry came to with a headache but was alive to his surprise. He could sense the girl still in the room with him, even more surprising. He halfheartedly tested the restraints. She had used cuffs. They would’ve kept any other man restrained. Gendry wouldn’t of even needed a lock pick to free himself.

He didn’t want to scare her with a display of his power, though. Gendry scowled at his own instincts. He was here on a mission to kill her. Her fear should have been irrelevant. She was sitting on top of a small round table with her legs folded in front of her. In her hands was a small antique revolver that she was meticulously polishing with a rag.

“You didn’t take your shot,” She said without looking up. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

She’s mocking me, Gendry thought. But he didn’t answer. He suspected that was exactly the reason why. She hopped down from the table to stand in front of him.

“I’ve killed a lot of people.” She lifted the gun to his forehead. “You could be next.”

“I could. But I don’t think you want to kill me anymore than I want to kill you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you haven't taken your shot either.”

She also hadn’t run when he was knocked out. He still didn’t know what to make of that.

It was a long moment before she lowered the gun. But she continued to stare. It unnerved him. Gendry felt like she could see inside his mind. He didn’t believe any lie would get past this one. But her face revealed nothing.

“Why’d they send some rookie after me?”

“I’m not a rookie. I’ve been working for the Brotherhood for years.” Gendry mentally punched himself for revealing that. He blamed it on the crowbar she had taken to his head. But he knew it wasn’t that. Gendry healed at an accelerated rate. It’s her eyes, he thought. Grey and sad and knowing.

“Well somebody fucked up,” She said. “You most of all.”

“I don’t think so,” He argued. “From the moment I read your file I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t supposed to kill you. I see that now.”

“You’re just saying that because I have the upper hand.”

“You think so?”

The cuffs snapped audibly as Gendry pulled them apart and rose from the chair. He towered over her by a foot.  He had also just casually torn her cuffs apart but she wasn’t scared. He could see that. She looked at the snapped restraints and then back up at him. Her expression was curious. Gendry was used to fear.

“You’re strong.”

He shrugged.

She chewed on her lip while studying the broken metal.

“Who are you?”

He thought about giving her his codename or any one of his aliases but something compelled him to tell the simple truth.

“Gendry.”

She nodded.

“Okay Gendry. Let’s go get breakfast.”

She flicked her own file open and began to read. Gendry took a large gulp of coffee. Breach of protocol didn’t even cover this situation. He hadn’t checked in for hours. It wouldn’t be long before they realized he had failed the mission. Gendry wondered what would happen then. When she snorted he looked at her with a raised brow.

“They don’t know half my covers,” she explained.

She sobered up as she began to look through the intel on her family. There wasn’t much but apparently it was more than she knew.

“My sister is alive?”

“Living in the Vale under an alias.”

“With a known criminal.” That was putting it lightly. Petyr Baelish was everything from a childkiller to a pimp.

“Yeah. She’s an influential member of his organization. She goes by Alayne Stone nowadays and is suspected in several murders not to mention extortion and fraud.

“If our parents could see us now.” Her tone was light but Gendry sensed grief behind her words. He dared to ask a question.

“When did you start killing people?”

“I was nine the first time.”

"Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You think I’m some kind of monster.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory or bitter. She said it around a mouthful of waffles like it was a simple statement of fact.

“No.” Gendry said firmly. “I think its fucked up this happened to you. You were a child.” It was the war. They all had done things they regretted. But she was so young. Someone should have protected her.

She furrowed her brows at that. Her look was both conflicted and indignant.

“I’m not a victim.”

She was. But Gendry suspected she would never let herself feel that way nor would she allow someone else to view her as one. He diverted the subject.

“And the Faceless Men. Do they know you’re bumming around Westeros?”

She actually laughed at that. “I have no doubt. But I’m not theirs anymore. I never really was.” She shrugged. “We have an understanding.” Gendry had to be jealous of that. He knew there would be freedom from the Brotherhood for him. Not until death, at least.

“So what are you doing now?”

“I’m going home.”

“Winterfell?” Gendry asked. “It’s under control of the Boltons. That’s in the file. They’re the most powerful gang in the north right now. Thousands of men. Enough ammo to rival several small countries. Dogs. A lot of dogs.”

“I’m aware.”

“My Brothers aren’t going to give up either. They’ll be looking for you.” And me too.

“They can get in line. I’ve gone up against the Lannisters, the Mountain, the Bloody Mummers, the Freys but the Brotherhood?” Arya scoffed. “They don’t scare me.”

“What are you planning?”                                                                

“I’m going to stop them all.”

“By yourself?”

“If I have to.”

“Is this your way of asking me for help?”

She donned her mask again and looked at him straight on. Gendry stared right back.

“What if I told you I have abilities too?”

Gendry leaned forward without breaking their eye contact. This was new. They hadn’t told him anything about Arya Stark being different. He wondered if his superiors knew. Somehow he doubted it. There was no reason to hold back information that would jeopardize disposing of this threat. A threat that was turning out to be even more dangerous and surprising than they knew.

“What can you do?”

She moved her hand in front of her face. 

“I adapt.”

A skinchanger. Gendry suppressed a shudder. He had heard of people who could change their faces or become animals. But he’s never met one. No wonder she’d managed to not get caught for so long.

“Go on,” he said. 

“In the House of Black and White I learned that one man…or girl, with the right skills, can be as dangerous as an army,” She paused. “The two of us together…we could do it.”

When Gendry didn’t say anything she continued in a different direction. “Or not. You can run back to your bosses. Maybe they’ll forgive this gigantic fuck up or yours. You can go back to killing for them. But take it from someone who knows: that shit gets old.”

“Yeah I know,” Gendry said weakly. He knew all too well and here was someone sitting across from who knew too. He could’ve killed her. And she could’ve killed him. Instead they were sitting in a booth eating waffles and trading secrets. They would be hunted and her plan was probably a suicide mission but he knew there was no going back. 

Gendry reached across the table. Arya clasped his hand in hers with a firm grip and a smile. A big one. He got a flash of a chipped tooth but it was as real and beautiful as any he’d ever seen.

It made him feel like anything was possible.

[dontshootmespence]

Clueless

A/N: An anon request where the team is out at a club and Spencer and the reader both have crushes on each other. Everyone knows but them. The reader gets drunk and dances and occasionally tries grinding on Spencer. They end up walking home together and he stays at her place (no smut), but then he confesses how he feels. @coveofmemories

                                                              -----

“How the fuck is he so clueless?” Morgan asked Garcia. The two were watching intently as Y/N (subtly to her, but so subtly to everyone else) grinded against Spencer on the dance floor. It wasn’t like either of them to dance, but Spencer was tipsy and Y/N was pretty wasted. “He’s a genius. He has 187 IQ. And she’s also a genius. Upwards of 170. How the hell do they not see that the other one is ridiculously into them?” It really was astounding. They’d been working together for three years now and yet neither of them seemed to understand that the other one had it bad for them. 

Garcia didn’t get it either. Or how either of them could miss the not-so-subtle ways she had been trying to get them together. “I mean, I’ve even gone so far as to send flowers to Y/N from him and yet they still don’t get it. For geniuses, they can be pretty stupid.”

Spencer had just gone up to the bar for another drink and Y/N followed him, resting her arm on his back. “Spence,” she whined. “Come dance with me. Why won’t you dance with me?”

“I look like an idiot when I dance, Y/N,” he said, his eyes widening as he realized how slurred his speech already was. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting another drink, but it was already here in front of him, so whatever. “Why would you want to dance with me anyway?”

“Because you’re my best friend, Spence,” she said, pulling on his sweater vest and back towards the dance floor. “And I’m drunk. And you’re cute. So the question really is, why wouldn’t I want to dance with you?” She grabbed his drink out of his hand and placed it on the table before reluctantly pulling him back to the dance floor. 

“She finally admitted he was cute,” Garcia said, her mouth agape as they headed back to the dance floor. “Apparently, you just need to get her stone-cold wasted for her to admit anything to him.” She and Morgan were still staring. All they needed was popcorn and it would’ve been the best movie either of them had seen in a long time. 

For nearly another hour, Y/N danced against Spencer. He barely moved, but that wasn’t anything Y/N did, it was just that he had no idea how to dance, and from what Morgan could see, his brain was moving. The kid was trying to figure out whether her feelings for him were purely because she was drunk, or were because there was something there. 

All of a sudden, she went to go grab something and nearly fell on the floor, only being saved by Spencer reaching down and grabbing her arm before she hit the ground. “You okay?” he asked.

She grabbed her head. “A little woozy. I think I should go home. I’m not a good drunk.”

“Okay, I’m going to go with you,” he said. “I don’t want you walking home alone.”

She shook her head, insisting that he should stay. He seemed like he was having fun. “I’m not leaving you to walk home alone, Y/N, plus, I’m only having fun because you’re here.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go.”

                                                             -----

About 30 minutes later, Spencer and Y/N teetered into her apartment. The alcohol had only seeped further into her system, but Spencer had started to sober up. “Sit,” he said, grabbing water and some headache medication for her. “Drink this.”

“Aw, you take such good care of me, Spence. What would I do without you?” She patted the couch next to her, inviting him to sit down beside her. After taking her medication and guzzling down nearly three-quarters of a glass of water, she leaned back and took his arm, placing it around her back and curling into him. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“No problem,” he replied. He was trying to decipher her movements, but alcohol muddled his thoughts and undoubtedly her own emotions. There was no way that his best friend was into him - at least not in the same way that he liked her. “I wasn’t about to let you walk home alone. If something happened to you, I would never forgive myself.”

She placed her hand on his chest. “Do you want to stay the night?” she asked. “I’d rather you not walk about to your apartment by yourself either.” He responded by leaning back and pulling a blanket up over both of them. There was a chance he’d regret staying over in the morning, when they were both sober, but for right now he’d take falling asleep next to her. Within minutes, they were both fast asleep. 

                                                            -----

“Hmm,” Y/N moaned as she realized where she was. God, her head was heavy. How the fuck had she even gotten home? “Oh, my head.” When she opened her eyes, she realized the material underneath her fingertips wasn’t from her couch. Spencer was underneath her. Oh god, had something happened? Last thing she wanted was for Spencer and her to have had sex while she was wasted. She liked him too much to make him feel like that was all he was worth.

Spencer opened his eyes. “Oh my head is killing me,” he groaned. 

“Spence,” she said, “Did we...?”

His heart sank. She sounded so afraid - like being with him was the worst thing that could’ve ever happened. “No, Y/N,” he replied sadly. “We didn’t. I just brought you home and we fell asleep here.” Apparently, she wasn’t into him at all, but he had to say something. It had been weighing on him for too long. “What if it had?”

Y/N collapsed back onto his chest, the heaviness in her head hurting too much to stay upright. “I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen between us while we were drunk. You deserve more than that, Spence. You deserve to know that the person your with loves you and wants you when she’s stone-cold sober.”

Spencer could tell that she loved him, but he was still confused as to whether she loved him like he loved her. He’d wanted her from the moment they began working together. At first, he thought his feelings would go away, but they’d only gotten stronger. “I guess that’s true,” he said. “I don’t think I could regret anything with you though.”

She had started to stand up, hoping to get something to eat that would sop up the acid in her stomach, but she stopped in her tracks. “You wouldn’t regret sleeping with me? Spence...do you...do you like me?”

“Of c-course,” he said, glancing up at her with big, brown eyes. “I l-love you...I always have.”

It had never occurred to her that he was in love with her. Why wouldn’t he say anything? They told each other everything. “Spence, I love you too.” She sat back down on the couch and pulled his face to hers, grazing her lips against his before taking his mouth in a sweet and simple kiss. “I’ve wanted you forever. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I always assumed you wouldn’t want me,” he replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders as he gathered up the courage to look her in the eyes. “Plus, even if you did, I wasn’t sure about risking our friendship.”

Leaning back into him, she lowered them both back down to the couch. Food could wait. “I don’t think there’s anything that could put our relationship in jeopardy.” He reached up and cradled her head in his hand, before taking her lips in a searing kiss. “Nothing can come between us.”

[kevinsmilleran-blog]

Hello,

 I found your blog.

 If my intent was to hurt you or invade your privacy I would not have come clean today ... if I wasn’t getting over you I would not have come clean today ...at the time I found your blog my only intent was to better understand where i stand with you I swear to god...  but I found your blog and now I can’t take it back.

 Where did I stand.  Fuck!  it’s the crazy the whiplash I get.  one day it’s “Ive been in hospital here’s everything for the last five days” and then two days later it’s all “none of your business.” One day it’s singing blackbird singing in the dead of night at 2am don’t hang up, the next day is “can I hang up now tired? Oh ….none of your business.”

 I lied to you when you asked if I found your blog cause I knew you’d never talk to me again, I couldn’t deal with that in that particular moment ... I was going through some shit and still thought maybe as a friend you’d be support…  can I deal with that now??? I don’t know, I think so, the truth is I am getting over you I was at the gym last night – big step -- and with each text I sent you on kik as i kept looking at my phone waiting for the d to turn into an r something just kept dying inside and I was deciding I don’t want a life of waiting for the d on kik to turn into an r... I put my phone on the shelf for a while and I felt RELIEF!!! Relief from this thing MY FUCKING PHONE that seems to only exist in a way to make me feel ignored when I’m needy and available when I’m needed.

 I just know that each day that went by lying to you made the lie worse. So now you know. I found your blog... I don’t know how to explain this... one thing I noticed about you is there’s EMPOWERED YOU and then VULNERABLE YOU... we are all both weak and strong.  well I’m the same exactly!! kinda strong in that moment when you told me you had a blog, but I can’t see it.  I nod.  Of course I nod.  I’m telling you we all should have a private place where we can write private things I’m not lying!!!

 and then it’s vulnerable me late at night not knowing where i stand

 driving me crazy

 why does she want to be with me one night but not tonight

 I need to know I need to know I need to know

 i ask she says none of my business

 I need to know

 I get a cryptic text, just a pic, looks cool, then five hours of silence and each minute of each hour just grinds away at my strength, the gears in my brain cranking spinning.  What I said about everyone having private space to write private things I MEANT IT, ya coulda hooked me up to a lie detector and when I said private space to write private things is sacred and that lie detector would have frozen over with boredom as the truth spills out into the air…. I meant it but now I need to know.  

 I NEED TO KNOW

I NEED TO KNOW!!!!

Why has that person who used to text me before going to bed every night, she has stopped.  Why is it I could text a Phineas and Ferb “whatcha doin?” one day and it was always my business and now it was always not my business.

 I needed to know!!!

I had to know.

Just to move on and get closure I had to FUCKING KNOW.

 Bono sings “the best things are easy to destroy” and does he fucking even know how easy.

 Now listen.  I can fuck up things with booze.  But I have to get a job make the money, get in a car go to a store and buy the booze.  I can fuck things up in all sorts of ways.  

 How easy was this?

 After about the 100th time my brain was screaming to itself I NEED TO KNOW, here’s how easy it was.

 First mistake…. that short story you sent, the one about the kid with the death due date going to die before everyone else he had a bad number

Second mistake…. look that up it’s literally the most popular post on tumblr

Third mistake…. Not even looking for it your avi is literally the first avi at the bottom of the page.  Reblog list.

Fourth mistake …  click on the link to your tumblr.

Fifth mistake …. The first fucking post on your tumblr is literally a link to a wordpress blog.

Sixth mistake …. You know the rest.

 I found your blog.

 How long did that take. Less than 4 seconds.

 There’s at least a protocol to nuking the world, codes, keys, you can’t even do it alone you need another guy to turn his key at the same time, I guess, I don’t really know.  I just know it’s not supposed to be that easy.

 It was that fucking easy ... to go get booze I at least have to get in a car and go to a store I DESTROYED EVERYTHING WITH YOU STONE COLD SOBER IN 4 SECONDS OF WEAKNESS WITH THREE TAPS OF MY FINGER ON A FUCKING PHONE WHILE IN MY BED!!!

 THAT FUCKING EASY! I FUCKING HATE THE INTERNET!!!!!

 I have a friend, a teacher she says if it was that easy she wanted you to find it.  Like that guy who hides porn where he knows his wife will find it eventually.  

 That’s fucking insulting. Go away friend, you’re not a friend. I fucked up.   I lacked self control.  Disrespected your space.  AGAIN. It was the second time!!!  I know what I did and I know you don’t play games that way.

 None of this is now going to help. maybe you’ll meet a stronger guy in future, I hope you do but if you ever put a guy in relationship purgatory – if you don’t know what I mean by that its this… you break up with him, but you don’t really want that so you’re “broken up” but still doing things… aw fuck it… everything together…. again when you’re “broken up” but still doing things together, don’t send him excerpts from your blog. Don’t send him the tools to find your blog in three clicks ... I think most guys would look, we are all pretty weak I think that’s why we, with our fearful patriarchies, fucked the world up.  

 Unless you want him to see your blog my advice is don’t even tell him it exists ...  if it’s a test to see if he looks for it, it’s a test that I think will rule out a lot of guys who are really pretty amazing in a lot of other ways.  Seeking out secrets is in a guys nature the way it’s in the nature of a scorpion to sting and poison a turtle carrying the scorpion across a river.  They both DIE.

 Maybe I’m wrong and I am just the worst man on earth, and every other dude would have never looked.

 But...

 I see on your tumblr a joke about someone pointing a knife but not using it ... a bad comparison maybe my point is this: if i was truly despicable (and some guys are) I would have SECRETLY kept looking at your blog for months… So I’m not despicable I’m merely pathetic and lacking the self control when it comes to wanting to know everything about you ... and yeah i do want to know that ... i fucking miss being your cheerleader… DO NOT RULE OUT THE POSSIBILITY THAT I LOOKED AT YOUR BLOG NOT JUST TO FIND OUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING, BUT BECAUSE I FUCKING GET A BIG GIANT SMILE WHEN I HEAR ABOUT HOW COOL YOU ARE!

 Purely practical... like it’s even possible I could be a better ex boyfriend if I knew more about you instead of less. Case in point, when it wasn’t a betrayal..... If I’d have found your blog before we broke up ... back then it might have saved the relationship.. I like to think I would have got us both help sooner ... but now it’s just betrayal I guess ...

 so some more honesty ... if I told you I would never look at it again I doubt I could make good on that promise ... it’s just yet another way my feelings for you reach beyond boyfriend girlfriend to father daughter ... it’s like I’m thinking well you won’t ever talk to me again but at least I can see youre ok on Facebook or tumblr or something ... so point is if you keep posting to that blog and to this tumblr I’d still look ... long after we have both moved on to someone else .. I could marry some woman and she’d wonder why I’m on some 20 something’s tumblr and be like oh it’s nothing and try to hide it from her ... if i talked to her about you she’d hear in my voice the candle I’d still hold for you...

 In that respect there is something about further contact I think we need to finally put in writing and if I could write it in stone i would... I get that as your ex boyfriend you don’t want to appear vulnerable to me.. you already have three dads, you don’t need a 4th but that’s kind of where I’m at here... I don’t think of myself as strictly an ex boyfriend but as a dad who would never not have the time for you ... for instance you know this door would never be closed to you.

 Now I know you can take care of yourself I’m just saying in an extreme emergency

 more honesty you can block me here but your tumblr is public viewable to anyone not logged into tumblr I assume you know that... more honesty ya know what????

 your tumblr IS FUCKING RAD!!! setting aside all the emotions both good and bad if we were total strangers I’d totally follow you ...

 I hate the fact that we are exes means I don’t get to be a stranger and go wow that chicks FUCKING AWESOME!  

 Anyway, i hope you’ll think about this and after the anger of betrayal subsides you might think it’s ok idk I’d like that your tumblr is cool!

 This will probably be the last things I get to say for awhile so I started feeling better about being blocked yesterday ... like I said above, the reason why is that it’s probably easier for me being blocked than it is texting you and staring at the phone for hours waiting for a response ... which is what was happening ... blocking me just takes away from me something I already don’t have anyway ... so yeah I’m just like well if I was unblocked how would that make anything better? It wouldn’t.

 I don’t know if I can think of any other last worlds ... oh i didn’t throw away anything you gave me ... it’s all packed up in two boxes labeled “amber”... encasing something in amber preserves it somehow ... it’s out of sight and out of mind as much as it can be so I don’t spend my days in tears looking at it, yet our year remains preserved encased in amber like a 99 million year old frog.

   One last way I’m weak and pathetic.. I probably would have let you throw your youth away on 50 year old ... or maybe I wouldn’t do that, and this is pretty weird but maybe I did all this fucking up so you wouldn’t throw your youth away on a 50 year old and also not spend much time being too hard on yourself

 It’s all my fault we are no longer together.

  p.s. to any reader who wants to know what I found when I found her blog, I’m a huge fan of the tv show LOST, so some things never get answered.  This isn’t about that, this is about something else.  Put it this way, I still really didn’t get the definitive answer or closure I was looking for, all I found was more questions, and I was just DESTROYING EVERYTHING I HELD DEAR IN MY HEART.  That’s the only thing that will ever happen when you go looking for THOSE KIND of answers.