rico1003

[badxwolf]

Christopher Eccleston on if he would travel with another Doctor's companion. x

[arachniasbride]

Is it OTP worthy? ⤷ Chris Pike & Una Chin-Riley | Star Trek: Strange New Worlds

[defstan]

ninth doctor illustration I guess

[regalpotato]

Like Captain like Science Officer...

[waitingintheskyyy]

When Chris and Una went on shore leave together and met Chris's dad

Disclaimer - This is from the comic "Star trek:early voyages" i do not own the art.

[ambassador-saru]

pike and una looking at each other

pt. 3 second brigde edition

[fiadorable]

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss for Pike/Number One please?

A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Enjoy Ensign Chin-Riley and Lieutenant Pike on an undercover mission.

POV changes are marked by the 🥂 emojis.

---

The dance floor was crowded, which was perfect.

Una held her champagne glass close to her lips, as if she were contemplating another sip. "Target's on the move. Ready for the show?"

"Born ready," Chris replied, draining the last of his own glass. "Try not to step my toes this time, Ensign?"

Una's cheeks flushed at the quiet dig. Illyrian women traditionally led partnered dances like these. She was not clumsy and not being able to explain why felt like sandpaper on her skin because if she could she knew Lieutenant Pike would understand, and why was that so annoying tonight, to have him not understand?

And why was this goddamn champagne going straight to her head?

"Try to remember the proper step sequence," she said, tersely. "You forgot the dip in the middle of the first movement earlier. Get us behind the target and I can plant the tracker on them as you're lifting me up."

From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. He slid behind her to deposit his empty glass on a tall cocktail table, and then his left hand landed warm and heavy on her hip as his right closed lightly around her own glass. "May I?" he whispered, breath tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear, teasing wispy hairs curling at the base of her neck in the humid room.

Una suppressed a shiver and resisted the urge to lean back against his broad chest. It would have been within the purview of their mission, their cover story, but she needed to stay focused. So she simply nodded and allowed him to remove the glass from her hand and then lead her onto the dance floor. 🥂

Chris positioned them about halfway down the room from where their target stood with their date. If Una could resist leading for five seconds, he'd have no problem whirling them around the ballroom and into place.

She'd done nothing but critique his dancing, the plan, the food, everything since they'd been assigned this mission. A grumpy Una was an exhausting Una because half the time, most of the time, she was right and insufferable about it.

Yet, somehow, standing with her in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world, her statuesque frame a comfortable match for his, even if she was stiff as a fence post while they waited for the music to start. He squeezed her hand, encouragingly, he hoped. "Loosen up, Una, we're never going to sell the 'young Starfleet officers in love' cover if you won't look at me."

Her eyes snapped to his and he almost took a step back. The music began, but his feet refused to move. He was but a smooth, gray stone sinking into the deep, blue depths of her gaze.

Oh, wow.

He might switch to toppling planetary governments, not saving them, if only to be on the receiving end of that look for real, not just for a cover.

Una cleared her throat, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. The other guests were already beginning the dance around them.

This time he stepped on her foot.

"Don't look at me like that," he laughed as he guided her out into a twirl and then reeled her back in.

"Like what?" she asked, shifting her weight as they spun so that he was supporting her with both hands on her lower back. "Like I'm dancing with the handsomest officer in the fleet? Why would I hide something like that?"

Her hand slid up from his shoulder to cup his cheek for a moment.

Damn, she was good.

Ok, here they go. One and a two and a three and a dip! and he pulled her back up and away they both went.

Una's grin was even brighter than before. "Well done, Chris," she said, patting him on the chest.

He preened, happy to bask in the effervescent glow of her genuine praise, before glancing over her shoulder and frowning. The target was approaching them, fast. Shit.

He tugged Una close, buried a hand in her hair. "Trust me," he whispered.

"No, you trust me," she said, and pushed. 🥂

Chris staggered off the dance floor and into an dim alcove with a plush bench, a small gilded mirror on the wall, and table of iced, bottled drinks in an ornate stasis unit. Perfect. Una followed close behind, twirling him around and giving him the quickest wink before pressing him against the wall, hands in his hair, clutching at his shirt as she worried his bottom lip between her teeth.

Chris, momentarily stunned, caught up a moment later, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer as she slipped a knee between his.

She knew he'd be a good kisser. He was responsive, content to let her lead, here, finally. Outside the alcove, she heard the target having a hushed argument with their date. Una tilted her face away from the party, also obscuring Chris' as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Leave them be, Aurt'iklik," their companion said. "They meant no offense dancing so close to you. Come, let the young be young."

Una broke the kiss, panting a little harder than she expected, and laid her head on Chris' shoulder, watching the target and their companion melt into the crowd again.

Chris was running his hand up and down her spine. "Clear?" he murmured.

"Yeah, I think so." She pulled away, stopping as his hands landed on her hips. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"That was—this is…"

"Just for the job, I know," Una said, tucking a traitorous thread of disappointment deep inside her chest. "You did great, by the way."

"Yeah," Chris said, tone flat. "You, too. This worked better than what I had planned."

Was he… also disappointed at her assurance that there wasn't anything more than the job between them? Una opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Chris released her and straightened his jacket, his hair.

"Shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm for her.

Una nodded graciously, and together they walked out of the party and the short distance to the beam out zone. After their debriefing session, they bid each other goodnight, and returned to their separate quarters. Una smiled as she fell asleep though, fingertips tracing her lips as she soaked in the night's memories. She wouldn't mind attempting the kissing again. So long as they skipped the dancing.

Other heart prompt fics: here

[divinemissem13]

Hi friendo! askin you the aquatic asks <3

🐙 a pretty/elaborate quote from a published work

🐠 a funny quote from a published work

🦑 a romantic quote from a published work

Thanks for asking, friend! Fun to go back through stuff I’ve published looking for all of these!

🐙 A pretty/ elaborate quote:

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita (ST: Voyager, vignettes of Kathryn and her favorite tree on the Janeway farm)

I used to watch those holos - of dogs reuniting with their owners after years apart - with a healthy dose of skepticism. I always thought they must be rigged somehow, or maybe the owner hadn’t really been away all that long. For seven years, I never dared let myself hope that I might be in for such a greeting, and yet here I am, my face covered in dog slobber and my own tears and all because Molly remembers me.

She starts to settle and for the first time, I realize we are being watched. My mother leans against the door frame with a smile on her face and a steaming mug of something (coffee, I hope) in her hand. I’ve seen her since arriving, of course, at Starfleet headquarters and over com calls, but the vision of her now completes the image of home that I have carried in my mind's eye for so long. My heart swells with gratitude as I stand, brush myself off, reshoulder my Starfleet-issue duffle bag, and walk up the two steps to meet her.

🐠 a funny quote

Friendly Competition (ST: Strange New Worlds, Pike/Una one-shot)

“Are you sure you don’t want to start with something a little smaller? A boot, maybe?” she purrs at him with a gleam in her eye that tells Chris she is definitely up to something.

“Oh, I’m sure. The scant. Hand it over,” he confirms, holding out a hand and wiggling his fingers.

Una stands and walks close to him, her finger tips playing with the hem of her very short dress. She doesn’t remove it though. Instead, she leans in and whispers in his ear, “Here’s the thing, Captain: I never said we were playing strip poker.”

Chris stands there with his mouth hanging open as Una struts away toward the bedroom, still fully clothed. He replays the evening in his head and realizes that, in fact, she had never once requested an item of clothing from him. He had eagerly removed something of his own volition each time he lost a hand, blinded by the anticipation of when she would have to do the same.

And now, standing alone in the middle of the living room in the oh-so-attractive combination of mismatched underwear and socks, he only has himself to blame.

🦑 romantic quote

Always a Bridesmaid (and that’s just fine) (ST: Picard, sort of?, Beverly and Kathryn attend Jean-Luc’s wedding to Laris. Beverly could not care less that she’s not the bride.)

Beverly knew this to be true now, because as she walked down the aisle on Jack’s arm, her eyes were drawn past the groom to the officiant: her Kathryn, radiant, even in that potato sack of a dress uniform. Radiant in anything, really, and also in nothing, because her radiance came from somewhere inside - from a light that only Beverly could see because it shone just for her. She’d never seen anything like it before, not from Jean-Luc, not even from the first Jack Crusher. The only thing that even came close was the lights that shone from her sons’ eyes when they were newborns and she was their entire world. Those lights faded, though, naturally over time as they grew and their worlds expanded.

But Kathryn’s light… If anything, it grew brighter and stronger with each passing day - each passing moment. She was sure that Kathryn could see it too, from the way that her eyes sometimes crinkled when she looked at Beverly, as if she were looking into the sun. And this is how Beverly knew, beyond any doubt, that she and Kathryn are meant to be together.

[curator-on-ao3]

Note: So much appreciation to @enterprise-come-in, @noctiscorvus, and @christinchapel for sending me Pikeuna prompts. I hadn’t decided whether to put these on AO3, but then I saw the numbers for Strange New Worlds fanfic and figured I may as well add more some more Pikeuna love to the archive. 

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Number One | Una Chin-Riley/Christopher Pike Characters: Number One | Una Chin-Riley (Star Trek), Christopher Pike Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, mutual appreciation, understanding, timing is all over the canon Summary: A quintet of prompted ficlets for Christopher Pike and Una Chin-Riley for which the prompter sent me a first sentence (or more) and I wrote the rest of the scene. The prompts are, in order:

“The wound burned bright, lit up like a galaxy was born just to heal her.”

“She’d been intriguing at first sight, confounding at second, and familiar by the third.”

“Shit, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"’I look weird out of uniform. Gods, people are going to stare, aren't they?’ She speaks softly to herself as she plucks self-consciously at the glittering fabric near her hip, half turned as if she plans to leave before even going in.”

“I don't know what to say, but I'm going to want you till the stars evaporate - we're only here for just a moment in the light, one day it shines for us the next we're in the night. So say the word and I'll be running back to find you, a thousand armies won't stop me I'll break through. I'll soar the endless skies for only one sight of your starlight.”

[the-redhead-in-a-dress]

Anybody want to write a Pike x Una fic version of the Tendi/Rutherford story line in 4x06 of Lower Decks: Parth Ferengi's Heart Palace ??!!

Honestly it was all I could think of during the episode! How about another best friend Star Fleet duo having to pretend to be a romantic couple for official Star Fleet business?! That has Una and Chris all over it! I bet they fell into those opportunities all the time when they were lower decks! And on the plus, they have the social skills (probably?) not to make it too awkward and honestly probably would go all the way too (well at least in my mind).

I'd write it, but I'm still not comfortable with my characterization of early career Una and Pike just yet. But if you are, then please write it, I can guarantee you at least one reader and reviewer here (it's me).

[female-fogbank]

@salrevientad thank you for the prompt Pikeuna - while on comms (video). I hope you enjoy... Private Conversation (yes, I couldn't help but name it that 🤣), it can be read on AO3 !

“How much longer is this training exercise going to last?” Chris asked as he sat on the edge of his bed on the enterprise after a long day. He missed Una, she was not making it easier as she sat on his viewscreen dressed in nothing but a short dressing gown on her hotel room couch. Her long, beautiful raven hair was pulled up in a messy bun as she was fresh from her shower. Soft tendrils of hair framed her hair face. She opened a jar of moisturiser and started massaging the cream onto her silky smooth legs. He smothered a groan as his dick hardened at the sight.

“I don’t know, the Vulcans are dragging it out. Spock is loving the never-ending debates and long-winded speeches. Uhura is like a kid in a candy shop and  La’an looks about ready to burn the building down if it means ending the conference sooner.” Una said in an absent manner.

“Tell her she has my blessing if it gets you all back to the enterprise,” Chris told her, Una smiled slyly at him.

“You miss me?” Una asked.

“Terribly, I want you back by side,” he said, he was also growing tired of his left hand. He missed the hot, wet clutch of her body, the way she whispered his name against his ear.

"I miss you too, waking up alone is no fun,” Una said with a pout.

“What would you do if I was there?” Chris asked, Una raised an eyebrow at the question.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” she drawled teasingly.

“Which usual? as I remember there being quite the variety of morning activities that we share.” Chris drawled innocently.

Una bit her bottom lip and then smiled as she knew where this was heading. She closed her jar of moisturiser and sat back on the couch in a somewhat seductive pose just to tease him. It worked as he heaved in a breath and shifted himself on the edge of his bed.   “Well, this morning I woke up very horny,” she said as she teasingly dragged her fingers down the collar of her dressing gown. Chris' eyes followed as she traced a line between her breasts letting the fabric slowly drape open to her navel.

“Did you touch yourself?” he asked, his eyes simmered with a hungry heat and unspent passion. She felt herself grow slick and shifted her thighs to relieve some of the pressure she felt.

“I had to, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to concentrate all day,” she told him in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Show me” he ordered, Una slowly undid her dressing gown, she lifted one leg onto the bed, and let the other drape open. She felt a thrill of anticipation and arousal zip through her as Chris groaned at the view she presented.

Una smiled teasingly as she opened her dressing gown. Chris groaned in delight and frustration as he wished he were with her.

“Like this,” she said as she trailed her fingers down the valley between her breasts past her navel before she slid them into her slick folds. She gave a breathy moan for effect, but her heart beat faster, she felt her skin heat up as she was already incredibly slick and more spilled forth as she saw Chris’ heated gaze zero in on where her fingers were. She circled and teased her clit and gave a shaky breath. She watched his pupils dilate and lick his lips. 

“I slid one finger in and it wasn't enough as…umm my fingers aren't long and thick as yours,” Una explained, it was hard to focus while her core clenched deliciously around her finger. It would’ve been better if he were with her in the room. But this was good enough, she slowly finger fucked herself in front of him. 

“Definitely need that second finger,” Chris told her, he sat forward, his hungry gaze on her as he watched her with a great intensity that turned her on. Una slid in the second finger and this time the moan was real as pleasure lazily rippled through her, she plunged her fingers in and out of her core. Sweat prickled across her skin, she felt her chest flush as she built herself closer and closer to coming.

“Yes,” she gasped as she pulled her fingers out and spread her slick juices over her pussy and clit, she moved her other hand to her clit and started to rub it.

“Don’t go too hard and fast on that clit,” Chris said crassly, as he undid his pants and pushed them to his knees. His erection sprung free. Una bit her bottom lip and moaned as he used his precum as lubricant and started to jerk off. It was incredibly erotic.

“My clit likes it fast and rough,” Una said, she whimpered as she felt her body start to burn as mini waves of pleasure rippled through her and started to coil tight in her lower belly, waiting to be fully released.

“Fuck, I wish I was right there, fucking your hot perfect cunt,” he said between her moans and cries. She watched him through hooded eyes as she kept up the momentum with her hands on herself. 

“Me too,” Una gasped. Their moans and gasps intermingled over the comm channel with the wet sounds of her pussy. Her fingers were gliding through her slick juices, it was an erotic orchestra to her ears.

“Faster, Una-fuck, you look so hot with greedy little cunt sucking those fingers in.” Chris told her, his voice rough as he was caught up in his pleasure.

“Chris,” she gasped,

“Just imagine I'm there, my cock fucking you, I'm so close,” he told her, his fist tight around his cock, he pumped in fast, short strokes and then mixed in a few long ones. 

“Oh god, I'm so close,” 

“Me too, fuck me,” Chris gasped, his features were tortured in pleasure. He squeezed the head of his cock trying to stave off his orgasm. Both of them absolutely lost in the moment and unaware of their surroundings, they didn’t hear the doorbell chime. Watching him, knowing exactly how his cock felt in her hands, and thrust into her body, it sent her over the edge.  

“I’m coming!” Una moaned, the alien computer mistook her for saying ‘come in’. She didn’t hear the door open. She groaned, her core clenched around her fingers, trapping them inside her. She felt her release flow out of her. Una let out a ragged breath and watched as Chris came, his eyes were shut as he gripped his cock, his cum shot out and spread across his chest and lap.

“Una, we nee- Oh my God!” La’an stopped, her eyes wide as she realised what she’d walked in on. She looked at Una’s flushed skin and how her arms were down. The couch covered her view. But there right on the screen was Chris still holding his cock in his hand as he just finished coming. “Oh my god!” She immediately covered her eyes and turned away, “Cock- Captain, I’m sorry I saw nothing! I - UNA, USE THE DO NOT DISTURB SETTING!” La’an shouted as she ran out the room completely mortified. The door closed but not before La’an’s voice carried in shouting something about how people should be locking doors. 

Una and Chris looked at one another in shock for a half a second before they burst into laughter. Una slipped her slick fingers from her pussy, and grabbed a tissue and wiped them clean. Chris was doing the same on his end, grinning as they both knew the crew saw them as pseudo-parental figures. So, it was easy to imagine their sex life was quasi-disturbing to them.

“She’s not wrong, you should lock your door,” Chris told her with a grin as he pulled up his pants and tucked his cock away. It was a shame as she would’ve loved for them to continue but they were lucky to even get 10 minutes away from Chris’ schedule.

“I’ll speak with you later,” Una told him.

“I love you,” Chris told her, Una smiled as she never tired of hearing him say that. “And you should put do not disturb setting on your room later,” he added.

“Is that an order?” she asked saucily, Chris laughed.

“Yes,” He replied, he looked off to the side and Una knew their time was up as something was happening on the Enterprise. “I gotta go,” he said.

“Hey, I love you too, bye,” Una told him, they signed off at the same time. She gave a happily sigh as she laid back on the couch and smiled.

[arachniasbride]

I told Captain Pike the truth about myself. And he defended me. Told me I was exemplary. That he would fight for me. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds | Ghosts of Illyria (S01E03)

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[regalpotato]

2x06 - Lost in Translation

[srta-htinha]

Star Trek has practically three ships and the musical episode ended them all.

[ambassador-saru]

una saying "I like her, Chris." about batel when she could be his girlfriend, his soul mate and his number one in everything earth and beyond hurts me more than I will confess so say.