#d'you think that'll cover it

[s-h-a-s-e]

the ultimate lifeform my beloved <3

[prof-polaris]

I, anon, have been incessantly asking questions to Chroma and fakedigo. I'm not the only one, fortunately.

Something about it just- feels really awful. Did they just straight up replace you? Fake replace you? What, just to keep up the appearance of their company? Does it even have anything to do with you, Indigo, personally, are they trying to lure you out or something? Or do they just not care?

...D'you know anything I can ask that might blow their cover? Do you have any idea why they're doing this?

its. yeah. it hurts a bit i guess?

i mean. i left for a reason. but still. ouch.

i think they're just trying to keep up appearances. if they were trying to lure me in i feel like they would so something more drastic, like threaten those i care about.

im- anon technically i haven't made a public appearance in Sinnoh for...arc, I don't know, 7 years? That's going to make people ask questions. they need a cover-up but its not like they can say I ran off. that'll make people ask more questions

honestly, blowing their cover is not my focus right now.

i just wanna get Flicker back...

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 4 - Drunk

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the fourth part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter Four – Out of the Rain

The contrast between the two days was ridiculous.

Laxus almost couldn't believe that it had been a day since he was lounging in the hot summer sun, whereas now he was narrowing his eyes as he drove the RV through the onslaught of rain. The storm had come from nowhere and according to the weather forecast, it would be sticking around for the rest of the night. The clouds were thick and covering the stars, meaning it was almost pitch black on the empty roads.

Unlike the day before, everyone was still awake as evening turned to night. They had spent the entire day driving, trying to catch up for the time they'd used at the water park. Bickslow had driven through the morning and early afternoon, and then had switched with Laxus.

At that moment, Laxus was fighting off sleep. They needed to find somewhere to park soon.

Not that they'd have a good night's sleep, though. The sound of rain battering down on the RV echoed loudly, and Laxus knew that it would sway and creak in the wind. It would be safe, but not anywhere near easy to sleep in. All he could do was hope that the forecast was wrong, and that the storm would end a lot quicker than they had stated.

He also hoped that he didn't fall asleep at the wheel.

"We have some money left over from renting the van, don't we?" Evergreen asked Bickslow, looking up from her phone.

"Yeah, a little over a hundred dollars. Why?" Bickslow asked, yawning into the thermos of coffee he was drinking.

"Well, there's nowhere close that'll let us park up and stay in the truck," Evergreen said, and Laxus cussed under his breath. "But there is a motel at the next rest stop. We should be able to get two double rooms with that."

"Sounds good," Laxus nodded. "Nobody's got a problem with that?"

When everyone agreed it was the best use of their spare money, Laxus got the directions from Evergreen and started to drive towards the motel. It was clearly a good choice, as soon after they made it lightning and thunder started splitting apart the sky, with even heavier rain following it. With his tired state, Laxus knew that it was best to get off the roads as soon as they could. It was certainly the safest thing to do.

Eventually they pulled off the highway and followed the illuminated signs to the motel. It was a nice enough looking place, which probably was a lot more welcoming in the day and when it wasn't a storm. It would certainly better than staying in the RV though the night.

Bickslow, who still had the money saved for the RV in his account, was the one who went to the reception. It took him a short while, but he eventually returned to them all with two keys from two double rooms, soaking wet with the water dripping off him. As he dried himself off with a beach towel they had brought yesterday, he claimed that he wished to share a room with Evergreen for the night.

"Why, exactly?" Freed asked, packing the clothes he would need for the night into a bag.

"Because I've had sleepovers with the two of you and you're both really boring," Bickslow claimed. "Evergreen lets me paint her nails and we gossip. You two just like sleeping."

Laxus was almost certain that it wasn't the real reason as to why he wanted to share his room with Evergreen. Given that both of them knew that Laxus had developed a crush on Freed, it seemed likely that this was some way for them to torture him by making him sleep in a room with him and nobody else. If the room they shared only had one bed, he was going to kill the bastard.

"It is appalling how we want to sleep at a sleepover," Freed commented, and Laxus sniggered.

"And that's the kind of boring attitude that makes me and Evergreen the best friends and you two the boring people on the side-lines," Bickslow grinned as he tossed a room key towards Freed, who managed to catch them without difficulty. It was an annoyingly attractive feat. "Room 203. Top floor."

Apparently leaving no room for argument, Bickslow turned is back and started to pack an impromptu overnight bag. Laxus and Freed shared a glance before picking up their own bags. They opened the door to the RV and winced at the rain they needed to walk to.

Despite the fact it had taken less than a minute to get under the protection of the building's veranda, both men had been drenched by the heavy rain. They quickly found their room and unlocked it, and Laxus let out a small breath when he realised that there were indeed two beds waiting for them. It was a nice enough room, with a small kitchenette – if a coffee machine, mini fridge, sink and microwave could be considered that – and a large enough TV mounted onto the wall. The large beds were rather appealing, given how Laxus had been curled up as he slept since they'd left Magnolia.

"It's better than I thought it'd be," Laxus commented, placing his bag at the foot of the nearest bed. "Kinda nice actually."

"It is," Freed agreed, walking to the bathroom and looking into it. "And a shower that might actually fit you inside of it."

Laxus grinned, mainly at the teasing tone in Freed's voice, and glanced into the bathroom to see that there was indeed a large shower. He reached over Freed and picked up one of the towel's hanging up. He started to dry himself off as Freed shucked off his jacket.

"I think I might have a shower before I go to sleep," Freed commented. "I need to wash my hair, might as well do it now."

"Sure," Laxus nodded, then he chuckled. "I get what Bickslow meant when he said we're boring."

"So do I," Freed said thoughtfully. "It's quite annoying that we're proving him right, isn't it," He sighed, and Laxus couldn't help but smirk. Freed really was quite a competitive person; Laxus enjoyed seeing it. "Why don't we try and prove him wrong instead?"

"How d'you suppose we do that?" Laxus asked with furrowed brows. He expected Freed wouldn't want to prove Bickslow wrong in any way Laxus was thinking.

"Well, our judgemental friend payed for this on his card, and all charges from the room will be his to pay," Freed commented absently as he walked towards the small kitchenette, and opened one of the cupboards. "And this place has a rather well stocked mini bar."

Laxus grinned when Freed pulled out a bottle of tequila.

"Sounds like fun."

~~~

"Oh come on," Laxus proclaimed with a slight slur in his voice. "That's bullshit."

"I told you, she's vicious," Freed said with a tipsy laugh. "It's why she always wins her fights."

They had gotten drunk. Well, maybe not drunk. But they had passed tipsy.

After they'd taken shots of the tequila, something that Laxus hadn't done since he was in college, they had both finished bottle of high percentage beer each. That was when they had turned on the TV, looking for something to watch to put off sleeping. That was how they had gotten where they were: sitting side by side on Freed's bed, a bowl of hot nuts, chips, and chocolate between them, watching The Real Housewives of… somewhere.

"She threw a plate at the guys face," Laxus argued. "It's bullshit."

"It's what she's paid to do, be stupidly annoying and start fights with people. It was probably staged anyway, so I wouldn't worry about it," Freed argued, reaching into the bowl of food between them. His head snapped up when the woman on the screen threw a champagne glass at the man she was arguing with.

"Bet that hurt," Laxus said with a grin. He was winning this argument.

"You can't be sure," Freed said indignantly.

"I can throw a mug at your face and we can see if it hurts ya," Laxus threatened with a grin.

Apparently, the alcohol in Freed's body had made the false threat hilarious, as he let out a loud and boisterous laugh. Laxus joined in, watching the shorter man as he almost doubled over as he laughed, the handful of food dropping onto his bedsheets.

"How often do you watch this crap," Laxus asked with a grin.

"Ever makes me watch it. Every night we went to one of our dorms common areas and watched something. Ever got obsessed with it, and then got Bickslow into it too," Freed laughed, shifting himself so he was sitting up again. "I would have complained about it, but Bickslow used to make me watch awful kids' films, so this is better."

Again, Freed started to laugh, and Laxus found himself unable to resist the charm of it and joined in too.

That was how they spent quite a lot of the night, eating the snacks that Bickslow would be overcharged for while watching crappy reality TV. They got a little bit more sober as time went on, as the only thing left in the minibar was champagne and they weren't going to be so cruel as to make Bickslow pay for that as well.

Part way through the night, Laxus had taken note of how close they were to each other. Their sides were pushed together, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. In his drunken state, Freed also seemed to be just a little bit more physical. He gesticulated a lot more, and Laxus often found himself with the other man's hand on his shoulder when he was making a point. At one point, Freed had even grabbed Laxus' wrist to get his attention, and it sent a thrill through Laxus that set his blood on fire.

On their third episode of rich people fighting, Laxus found his gaze on the man beside him. He was watching the show with contentment, a tipsy smile on his face as he made comments about the people on screen. It was endearing, and Laxus was left with an equally happy smile.

His smile faltered when Freed's did.

For a second, Laxus had thought that the other man had noticed him looking and was uncomfortable with it. But he didn't move away and Laxus realised he was now almost glaring at the TV. Laxus looked towards it to see that they were on the 'next time' part of the show. One of the women was shouting at a man, and it took a moment for him to realise that she was accusing him of cheating.

"He cheated on me," Freed commented, with a smile that was most likely sad. "My ex, not the man on the screen."

"Oh," Laxus mumbled, not sure of what else to say. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Freed sighed, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't be sad about it; I don't understand why I am. I wasn't in love with him, I'm not even sure if I particularly liked him by the end of the relationship. I was actually going to leave him, for heaven's sake. So I shouldn't feel bad that he found someone else, but I do."

"Well," Laxus began again, not sober enough to think of anything eloquent to say. "He cheated on ya. It's a shitty thing to do. You get to be pissed off at that."

"I suppose so," Freed sighed, almost as if he was disappointed in himself. "What does annoy me is how it happened, though. I didn't walk in on him, or find out myself. He just told me," He laughed bitterly at that. "Just sat me down, said he was seeing someone else and that we weren't together. I didn't get to be a dick about it, really. I didn't yell, or really react at all. It just sort of ended, and then I came back home again."

"Should have punched the fucker," Laxus commented indignantly. "Sent him to the other guy with a black eye."

"It wouldn't have been productive," Freed waved the idea off, eyes still closed. "It's a tempting thought though, I must admit."

"You can punch me if you wanna. Get it out of yer system, y'know," Laxus suggested, and it was clear the booze in his blood had made him suggest that. Freed looked to him with a small smile.

"You're far too good a man to be compared to him," Freed commented.

Laxus blushed a little at the compliment, even if it wasn't much. He looked down at the man, who was watching the TV and clearly trying to act like he wasn't affected by what he had just said. But even drunk, Laxus could tell that the man had lost his easy posture and his hands were clenched at his sides. Laxus frowned at this, reached for the remote and muted the show they were watching. Freed frowned and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry the bastard cheated on ya," Laxus said with as much seriousness in his tone as he could show. "I know that you said you wanted to leave him, and that ya think it's stupid you feel bad about it, but the guy betrayed ya. And you didn't deserve to feel like that, or to be treated like that. So, I'm sorry."

"As I said, you don't need to worry about it," Freed said with a sigh. "It's not your fault, and I'll get over it."

"But you shouldn't have t' get over it because you shouldn't have been cheated on," Laxus said with an insistent tone in his voice. "I mean if I were dating a guy like you, I wouldn't even think about looking at other guys. I mean who fucking would. Yer hot, you're and interesting, and know how to make a guy enjoy himself. Who wouldn't want that?"

"Well, it seems that my ex disagrees with you."

"Then he's stupid," Laxus said firmly. "Seriously, this guy is clearly a dick head. Because if he looks at you and thinks he wants something more, or different, then he's an idiot. Cause you're fucking… just look at yourself. Can't think of anything I'd change."

"Oh," Freed said, a little shocked. Was he blushing as well? Probably not. "Well, thank you. That… that's nice of you to say. I appreciate it."

Freed turned and looked towards him, and only then did Laxus realise just how close they were to each other. Their noses were almost touching, and Laxus' mind screamed to him that it would be easy to close the gap and press their lips together.

"Well, I mean it," Laxus shrugged.

With the booze flowing through him, and his good sense all but gone, Laxus listened to the voice in his head. He pushed his face forward, cupped Freed's face, and kissed him.

[eighthchiharu]

BroDave Week, Day 1: Mythology

AN: I am hella late, and this is incomplete, but here we are. Using a prompt from the Stridercest Discord Server.

Dirk called first.

Dave could've ignored it, and was tempted. Not because he was busy, but because he wasn't. He was enjoying a rare moment to himself, stretched out on the clean white sheets of his bed, listening to his own music and counting the wavy lines and whorls of red and green on the ceiling of his bedroom. It was like living in a perpetual Christmas, but he'd gotten used to it. Now, it wasn't a weird color scheme, it was his space. It made him feel peaceful and calm, and there hadn't been a lot of any of that in the three months of settling into their new jobs.

'King', it turned out, was kind of a big deal.

But it wouldn't be fair to ignore Dirk, not when Dirk had answered Dave's calls at all hours of the night. So Dave rolled over and scooped up his phone, tugging one earbud out.

"Sup homeslice?"

"Hey, man," Dirk said. "You at your place?"

"Yep. Kickin' back, listening to some pretty sweet tunes. Not making any monumental, kingly, world-altering decisions, though that'll probably change in the next half hour, seeing as Karkat and Jade use me as a tie-breaker every time one of them gets it into their heads to do so much as change the curtains around here. D'you know how many times we've changed curtains? Twelve. Twelve times. It's like watching Martha Stewart self-destruct in a cocaine, Monster-fueled binge."

Dirk snorted. "I'll trust that you're the Martha Stewart expert around here. But I wasn't calling about her. I was calling to, y'know, kinda... Kinda give you a heads-up."

Dave raised eyebrows at the whorly ceiling. "What, you comin' over?"

"I can if you want, but that's not it. It's about Friday."

"What's Friday?"

"You know, that festival they're having? The one with the banners in the street? The orange and red flags, that logo with the sword and the shield, I know you've seen this shit."

"I wasn't gonna embarrass you by calling attention to this obviously gay party they intend to throw for the coolest members of the Earth-C pantheon," Dave said, grinning. "I'm not into RPF, but hey, if they wanna ship us, I won't tell 'em no. They've been doing it for a thousand years or something already, right? Might as well let 'em keep on with it. I'm no party pooper. Freedom of religion and all that, people deserve to worship what they please, and I'm giving my official stamp of approval. People of Earth-C, please imagine my clone brother and I having hot, sweaty sex. Draw fanart of us. Compose odes to parts of Dirk's body I've never seen and don't ever wish to see. Go for it. Draw dicks. Draw dicks touching. Make everything touch."

"Dave."

"I'm kidding. Well, not about letting them do whatever they're doing that involves us, their gods, but maybe about the dicks touching."

Dirk paused, which meant he was either rolling his eyes and praying for strength, or he was struggling to stay on the line.

"I'm kidding," Dave said again. "Sorry, go ahead. What'd you wanna tell me?"

"The celebration," Dirk said slowly. "It's not about you and me."

Dave's eyebrows went higher. "No? They kinda messed with the color schemes then, big time. Can we sue? Like, red and orange are our official hues, aren't they? I think we can make some kind of legal stand here. Get a court to grant us rights over specific colors in the light spectrum. Do we even need a court? Do we have God Mod powers or something?"

Another pause. "It's about you, yeah. And it's sort of about me, but not me-me. A version of me. That's what the orange is for."

"A version?" This was getting weird. Were the people of Earth-C unsure which Dirk was their god, and so had different days celebrating different slivers? "Which version?"

"Your version."

"My version? Isn't that you?"

"No, Dave. It's...  It's about your brother," Dirk said. Dave's heart seemed to drop out of his back, past his ribs, hurtling through the mattress and the floor straight toward the center of the planet. "You and your brother. That's what it's about."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

It took Dave four hours to decide that he wasn't afraid, and another four hours attempting to figure out exactly what he wasn't afraid of. It was dark by the time he decided he should stop worrying about what might happen, and concentrate on what would definitely not happen.

Bro was dead. That was a fact.

Bro was not coming back. Probably. No, definitely. Absolutely definitely not.

Bro was crazy, and dead, and was definitely, definitely not coming back.

Even if Dave wanted him to.

No.

Dave did not want that. Bro coming back would be the worst. It would ruin everything. He would ruin everything. Dave had a place and a life and people who expected things of him. He couldn't give it all up, fuck everyone else over, just to go back to Bro.

Not that he would. He wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. Why would he? Bro gave Dave nothing but pain. There was no reason to want him, no reason at all.

Except his perfect pecs and his tight ass.

Fuck.

With a desperate, abbreviated groan, Dave shoved his hands up under his sunglasses, digging the heels of his palms into the aching soreness of his eye sockets. There was something wrong with him. He knew there was. It was the worst secret of all. Not that his friends would judge him. Well, they might, but that wasn't what scared him. Bro scared him. With his big hands, and his wide shoulders, and his silent, smoldering aura, thick with silent, mocking possibility.

Dave could still remember the way Bro covered Dave's hands with his during their brief soundboard lessons. The touch of those calloused fingers after a strife, threading through Dave's hair, checking his scalp for injuries. The brush of rough thumbs over Dave's cheeks, over his collarbones.

He groaned louder and shoved his sunglasses off, rolling onto his stomach to bury his hot face in the cool pillows.

The juju-colored ceiling hung above him, swirly in his memory, taunting.

If only you could rid yourself of those pesky inhibitions, it seemed to say. If only you could admit to yourself what you wanted. If only you were man enough, you might be free.

It was a lie. He would never be man enough. He would never be as good --

He squashed the thought. It didn't matter. Bro was not coming back. Dave just had to make it through Friday, and everything would go back to the way it was. No more too-honest thoughts. No more re-awakening of long-buried, covetous feelings.

Friday, and then freedom.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

AN: Maybe tbc? We shall see...

[punkscowardschampions]

Jimmy & Janis

Poor Pablo

Jimmy: You here? Janis: standing to attention, like Janis: what's up? Jimmy: Can I stay at yours tonight like? Janis: 'Course, my Dad already extended the offer when he was trying to parent me lol Janis: Yours doing your head in? Jimmy: Seriously though? I'll sleep in the bath and try not to have Skerries flashbacks. Give a shit Jimmy: Yeah Janis: You don't have to Janis: though I've been told its comfier than you'd imagine if you're feeling it Janis: What's his damage...not ideal they had to call the parentals in but it is just detention, not a court date, y'know? Janis: I'd have figured out a way to take all the blame if I knew he'd go off Janis: Wank bank fantasy getting outta hand in the stalls? 🤔😉 Jimmy: It's an excuse for him to get at me, that's it Jimmy: Doesn't really matter what the drama is Jimmy: 😍 Proper romantic you 💕 Janis: Yeah Janis: Suppose it'd make a nice change to have you as the bad guy for once, eh? Janis: fuck that though Janis: Who me? Janis: never Jimmy: What d'you mean 😎👎💔 Jimmy: I'm so bad Janis: Very bad boy, NOT bad guy, waaaaaay different vibe Janis: Silly Jimmy: Good save Janis: Not a goalie or a superhero Janis: but Janis: 💪 Jimmy: 🏆 Jimmy: What time can I come over? Freezing here casually Janis: Come over now idiot Janis: Be doing me a favour anyway, be your charming self so I can escape the fam Jimmy: Done Jimmy: Want me to bring you anything? I'm thinking chips but no pressure Janis: Quite the offer Janis: but no need Janis: there's always so much food going in this gaff Janis: may as well help yourself Jimmy: Yeah? Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: I'm just gonna get Cass to bring me some stuff out #doorstepdrama Jimmy: Like fuck am I gonna come back here any earlier than needs Janis: That's fun 😒 free entertainment for the neighbours, nice one 👍 Janis: at least Cass'll get a kick out of helping the outcast hero Janis: Best to let him have his paddy, yeah, he'll be begging you back when he can't figure out where the kid's school shoes are Jimmy: I wouldn't bother but I need my charger in case Bobby can't sleep. Cass shouldn't have to handle that on her own Jimmy: She's be the definition of #buzzing for this part at least Jimmy: Maybe Twix'll shit in his shoes this time, 'cause bitch be loyal Janis: Shame you can't bring them both but kidnap would technically be something to shout about Janis: They'll be alright though, she's a tough cookie and a smart kid Janis: Get Grace to facetime him a bedtime story, he'd love that and she'd feel like she's doing jackanory, like Janis: We can only hope girl comes thru Jimmy: He'll take her up on that if I don't. Boy is 💕 for Gracie Jimmy: You're not about to get off light though, Cass wants to hear from you that I'm alright Jimmy: My word isn't worth a damn apparently Janis: She ain't offering for you! Even if you're currently in her good books for taking a 🔥 photo, like Janis: Still not good enough to be her fave 🤷 Janis: Tough ground Janis: Well, she's got you there, you're not the best at using 'em 😏 100% taking the fact I'm being considered the reliable one for once Jimmy: You win this round Jimmy: Don't get too comfy with it though Jimmy: I am on my way Janis: S'lonely at the top Janis: Get on my level, boy 🥇 Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: rude Janis: biting the hand that feeds Jimmy: Learning from your true love like Janis: I won't stand such slander on her good name Janis: she's a revenge shitter only not a biter 😂 Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: I'm having a smoke, you joining me or am I coming knocking? Janis: Lungs won't thank me but Pablo would if he knew how close he was to getting a smackdown Janis: Save me some I'm running Jimmy: *He took it easy on this one (not for her sake, you snooze you lose, mate) having been puffing away consistently since he slammed the door on his dad's ranting 'cause he'd needed to calm down. Or shut down. Naturally, it crept up on him, as persistent, which is why he's here, huddled in another cold doorway, waiting for a distraction that'll have him forgetting the barney his dad started days before and wasn't done with yet. Argumentative prick. Jimmy was happy to let Janis have that win, the only where he wouldn't (and couldn't) compete being in this, in drowning out the shit with something that isn't. There's no hiding the smile when he sees her, if the shadows do let him get away with it, they won't for long 'cause he's closing the gap between them instantly, refusing as much of the space as he can without giving himself away for doing it as he passes the cigarette over.* Janis: *She takes the cigarette like its second-nature, kiss on his cheek, feeling the familiar dimple of his smile, like they are too. Far from it on both counts. She's not a smoker, she needs her lungs clear and strong. And she's not in love, same reasons for her heart. Simple as. Still, she could enjoy the benefits of both without committing, couldn't she? Why not. It's not like she's faking either, just...dipping her toes. Only likely to incur minor damage, she reckoned she could take that and still get away laughing. Sure. Long drag before passing it back because without needing to even look his way, (though she did regardless, studious expression taking in his tight, stressed as shit, posture right now), she knew he needed it more. Janis jogs her legs up and down, 'brring' in the cold Winter night air.* You alright then? *She adds, as if they're just meeting on her doorstep by chance, not for reason. She smirks, shaking her head at herself, nudging his side.* Jimmy: *With the cigarette back between his fingers and the girl by his side he gets what he needs, the familiarity a reminder that this is his normal, not what he rushed to leave behind. To pick up his girlfriend for dinner his dad will have to drop this, rely on moody silence to show how he really feels and his own fakery, in this woman's company, for what he thinks he should. They all know how to handle the first, years under their belts, and the second idea's even more temporary. Fuck it. Jimmy could make a single cigarette last longer than his dad's current relationships, and had done, sometimes. Not this one though. Nah. He wasn't the dickhead to keep his girlfriend shivering while he pissed about blowing smoke in the dark. He took a final drag before flicking it away to meet Janis's contact with his own, using his now free hand to gently brush a loose curl from her cheek.* Yeah, mate, you? Janis: *Janis scrunches her nose up, batting his hand away, mix of bashfulness and banter, blown with a raspberry. Turns out, sex is alright, stunning review there, indescribably better than alright obviously but- its the smaller, everyday moments of intimacy, that had flown under her radar when she wasn't receiving them, that she still finds herself flinching from, or covering up said flinch with some kind of bullshit she finds it easier to wear, to shoulder.* Fine. *She blurts out, flustered and being a little sharp with it. Get it together. More jokes, forever skirting around serious, not getting too real or too deep 'cos they both know there's no coming back and why ruin it and- She peers at him, like he's a dog in Crufts, pretending to shine a torn in his eyes, checking his teeth, that kinda shit.* Hmm, healthy enough specimen. Gonna give me anything else to give to your Sister though, like? Dunna if 'yeah' is gonna get her off the phone in a hurry, to be honest. Not that I give a shit, or nothin', don't get it twisted. *She grins, turning to the door and then back again, lingering, reluctant to open the door yet, knowing they'd get descended upon by someone almost immediately. All fun and games. Still, there wasn't a world in which she was gonna turn him down and have him out on the street, like. No way.* Jimmy: *He plays along as though it's still a game and why not? He's just admitted to himself how used to fakery he is, being a family trait like, with both of them for him to thank. Not that he's sparing a thought for his mum, first or second. Not now. He told himself no more slips with the girl beside him and meant that just as much. More. It's easier to stick to on every level, and he does, ruffling her hair fully when he gets the chance. Eyebrows raised and an expression of his own ready to wear. This, he can keep up all night, same as the exaggerated huff that he let's escape, like a Twix snore, into the night along with the shrug that follows.* Use your skills, throw in as many hashtags as it takes to put her at ease. Throw in a selfie if she still isn't convinced. Me sleeping sound should do it. * He's joking but not wrong for it, not able to remember a time when he fell asleep before the other two. Cass'd be beyond 'shook' to even see a fake out of him getting a good forty winks. Jimmy smirks through the thought, forcing it to pass.* You got this, girl* He retorts it in the best mimicry of how Mia and that crowd speaks that his accent can do, wincing slightly both at the impression and idea of them being around. Still, he claws some of his 'clout' back with a challenging look that adds 'What else have you got.' 'cause who are they if there's not a challenge ongoing. As if to emphasis this, he goes towards the door himself, pushing it open with more daring than he actually feels. * Gonna invite me in then, or what? Janis: *She kisses her teeth angrily, full on 'boy, if you don't stop-' vibes, planting a balled fist in his stomach, gentle warning like, no need to assault him before the family saw to it with their over-the-top nature and curiosity. She knew it would but it was getting to her more than she imagined even. The cooing and awwing or the piss-taking and wink-wink nudge-nude of it all, whatever approach they took, why did they have to? What business was it of theirs? Of anyones? Why did there always have to be a song and dance about everything? The hot takes she'd never ask for. Ruined everything. Why did they care? About this? About her? Just fuck right off. Messy. Too messy. Family, feelings- fuck it all. She used to kid herself, couple of years ago, when it happened, that she'd move out as soon as she could and that'd be it. They'd leave her alone. And she could just exist. Run, sleep and repeat. And that is all she'd have to do. No thinking or feeling ever. But she knew better now. They weren't just going to disappear, even if she changed postcodes. Even Edie couldn't manage that. And she had really tried. The others didn't want to. So she was stuck. Here in the land of the living. Forced to participate, like it or not. Then Jim had come along. Made her like it, a little bit, like. And he'd made her think maybe she could add to her shortlist of approved activities. But let her think about that for too long and she always came to the same conclusion; that she was a fucking idiot and it'd all end in tears. She sighed, overexaggerating it last minute to pretend it was in reply to his showy huffing and puffing.* Not my skill-set, kid. You were always better at it than me. Not just the snappin', like. Right up until you jumped ship for a pretty face, #commitment. *She laughs.* But for Cass, I'll see what I can do. *Cringing at the accent-attempt and gasping in mock-horror at the invocation of Mia and co. (as if say their names three times and they'll appear to tell you your outfit is ugly) she puts a finger to his lips, pushing him behind her at the same time so she can lead the way in too.* Ta-dah! *She flourishes, with a shrug to say 'you asked for this' 'cos there was no hiding now. The downstairs open-plan, parentals unconvincingly 'busying' themselves in the kitchen. Iggy, Diego, Gus and (thank fuck, 'cos we know who's the likeliest to be a prick here) Pablo so far unaccounted for, Grace watching telly, curled up with her phone as per. Janis was ready to bolt up to her room, not so much as a hello but reckoned Jimmy wouldn't want the rep of being her 'rude boyfriend' (as concerned as he was with opinion clearly, bless) so she shouts out 'Jim's here', eyes on the stairs, giving them five seconds to respond before she was up 'em, like.* Jimmy: *The house makes him feel the same as it did the first time he was here once he's through the door again, thankfully though the urge to whistle is muted today, full of sobriety as he is, in every sense. He knew her family weren't renters in over their heads like his from day 1, it isn't just that like. He isn't just some reverse snob, it's everything here they haven't had to buy, and he couldn't if he had armfuls of cash. The 'vibe' he'd probably call it if he was Grace or her crowd. Still, he nods at everyone about as if it's common place for him to him to be greeted by a warmth that's nowt to do with temperature.* Evening. *He's got his smile back on but Jimmy's hand is scratching the back of his neck before he can stop it giving him away and all he can do is 'reckon' on Janis being too caught up on her own family dynamics to call him out for his lack of. That's the real #goals, isn't it? He thinks to himself, trying to shake these feelings off him without moving. Or sighing. You massive dickhead. Grace waves at him without looking up from her phone screen, a slice of his home life #relatable enough he can follow her sister's gaze with a decent smirk and a readiness to deal with what's gonna come down. Need's must had him here in the first place, alright, but now he's made it as far as asking to be let in, he'd like to stay. Not only be a grumpy twat Janis is stuck with, but a laugh she wants to stay about. In her gaff and out of it. When nobody immediately appears he heads up himself, not forgetting her insistence to lead the way before, he looks over his shoulder at her, obvious with it that's there's nowt for her to do now but keep up.*  Unlucky, mate. You're not getting off that easy, we've got a whole night ahead. Janis: *Janis is holding herself rigid, eyes fixed as tight and strong on her parents letting them know in no uncertain terms to behave...and they did? Leaving it at cheery hellos and promises of dinner being done in about half an hour if they fancied it. Hm. First time for everything. Letting disbelief at their ability to be normal for once in their friggin' lives (where had this been all the other times she'd begged them/the universe for it?!) carry her up the stairs behind Jim. She let him flounder in the burrow-like corridors of upstairs, so different to the openness of the downstairs, that'll teach you to go ahead, boy, she thought with a smirk, now pushing in front with arms wide open.* Pick a door, any door! *She laughed, heading to her own before he actually did, not knowing who was in.* Welcome to my humble-abode... *She added, as they were over the threshold, kicking her gym bag, over-spilling with laundry, aside. She sat down on her unmade bed to assess, from outsiders, from his, eyes. Not here enough anymore that it was critically messy, that was good; old posters covering up old holes in the plaster from older anger, nothing cringe, thankfully but- It was a bit sad, to be honest...bare, lacking...anything, personality, life. She sighed. Red-faced from embarrassment and redder still from anger at feeling that embarrassment. She didn't care about herself, yeah. And what? And what is that her room said as much in no uncertain terms and having him see it was just- well. Shaming. Time for a joke.* If this setting don't get you in the mood, I don't know what will. Jimmy: *10 kids, he reminds himself, when he reaches the top and is met with an upstairs that belongs to a different house. That disconnect continues, growing, when Janis opens one of the doors in the maze. Hers. He's got no room to judge, none of his house looks lived in yet, as if Cass can protest having to by refusing to help unpack, knowing he doesn't have (or want to make, 'cause there's enough stuff in there for it to be boring, but then there's what's missing too, which is worse. Depressing.) the time to tackle the unopened box on his own after months. He isn't. Judging, that is. But he can't stop himself looking about, eyes focusing again on what there is, and isn't. What it means. And doesn't. Fuck. What a pair, they are like. Jimmy has to say something, silence will have her thinking all kinds of shit that isn't right. Least of all that he's a twat. Which, sort of is. He's equipped to be that though, which is something. He can easily grin at her, fall into simple, old habits. Banter by numbers that'll be #nodrama for her to throw back at him. 'Cause whatever his dad might think right now, he's not the dickhead trying to make everything harder. Why would he? The day to day shit already has that covered. So he aims his biggest 'heart eyes' at her, from the earliest days of their fakery, hiding any real expression in the over-the-topness of it all, for her as much as him (he tells himself, without needing much convincing with the blush spotted. It isn't thanks his charms, they both know. But in a second they can pretend it's his cringe factor.)* Only got eyes for you, babe. We could be anywhere. *Still, even as he's mocking himself with mimicking throwing up in his mouth, before she can, naturally, passed that, somewhere real he's deciding that should she suggest getting out of here to elsewhere tonight he's not about to fight it. Wherever they end up. #nocringe. It'd be too much of a lie to act like asking to come here was too much and everything that's come after, as a result, is too. He shouldn't have done it and there's no wonder everything's been off since. Her room could be the same as downstairs and he wouldn't wanna stay there, would he? It's his 'vibe' fucking things. Cheers dad. Jimmy sighs, throwing himself on the bed, and turning it into the appreciative whistle he didn't do at the door. Fucking hell.* Janis: *The eye-roll comes so hard it has her reeling, spinning out in her own head. At least, its better for them both if she pretends that's what's got her feeling dazed and disorientated. Sick with not knowing how to play this. No 'oh my, a boy in my room!' giddiness, fuck that shit. It was 'oh my, having to spend time in this depressing pit'. And his hand forced to spend his time here too. It'd be different if he had wanted to. Maybe. Okay, probably not. But if he had wanted to then they really wouldn't care where they were, paying no mind to anything but each other, not like his car was a lambo or like she'd given two fucks then, so it might've been tolerable. Ignorable, at the very least. But he HAD to be here. Nowhere else to go. That paired with how this room inadvertently showed all her cards had her feeling as bare as their surroundings, #exposed as they would say for the craic. Not that she was mad at him for not begging to sleepover just 'cos he wanted her so bad, again, fuck that shit hard. Not that girl. Everything was just weird and off and it didn't lend itself to a good night's sleep for either of 'em, she was willing to bet. She shrugged, those muscles so overworked, never skipped, massaging at the tension there in vain. Bounced from the dramatic way he flung himself down, she rests herself down on her elbow beside him, face to face.* If you want, we can go to the Barn. Its kitted out, like- *She pauses, thinking back on the times when it had been a place they all made Diego's films together, the times it had been Edie and Rio's bedroom, sneaking in there with them, leaving Grace alone in the dark of their old shared room. Now, well- She spent even less time in there than she did here. Only venturing when it was so dark and she felt so alone, it just felt right to hide out in there; harking back to all those many nights she'd sneak out, praying Edie would be there again, and to the one night, she was. Tucked up in her bed as if she'd never left. As if she wasn't really there. But she was. She was. And she'd gestured for her to get in with her and they'd just held each other...Janis holding on for dear life, determined to NEVER let go, so she couldn't leave again. She thought she felt the same desperation, in the way her big sister clutch to her too, almost hurting her but she would have never of complained. Determined to keep her in sight, eyes wide open and staring into hers, barely visible in the dark but there. She was there. Of course, she had fell asleep, and of course, when she awoke, the sun was up and Edie was gone. She was just a fucking kid, like. 'A fucking failure is what you were. And are.' She shook her head. At least the barn HAD memories, more than you could say of the box room she'd relegated herself too. No longer able, or needing to share with anyone. Not Grace. Or Rio and Edie. They'd all gone. Empty rooms to fill.* All mod cons and a comfy bed, like. But you can keep that between us and add to your sob story, yeah? *She mimics the tiny violin he was always sending, #IRLShade like, hoping the piss-taking would distract from the disjointed nature she'd made that offer in. Ghosts refusing to let her go, let her be with him fully. She never could be. It was the sad kind of hurt when you just know, know that whatever you're doing, or want to do, won't work. And knowing this and knowing you're gonna hurt the other person, so far so clueless. Oh, Jim. Why do you think I was on my own when you met me, boy?* Jimmy: *He's fucked it instantly, looking at her too hard, all the bollocks stripped back and away by how close she is, suddenly, though he should have expected it. Not like her bed's big enough for anything much else, but he never does, somehow. Still. Ever. Breathing hurts but he forces himself not to keep it shallow, refusing to swap places so soon when she was meant to be the one swooning. Fake or not. And there's so much real shit he wants to say, but can't. Again, too much. It leaves him only inhaling and sighing, brooding like the kinda poser he isn't trying to be on any day. Least of all this one. Does it matter though? It doesn't feel like it when his hand drops before it can reach out, touch her in any way, jokes as out of bounds as anything. He isn't meant to be lost with her, but tonight doesn't give a fuck about that, does it? He jumps on the offer a change, nodding, frantic for a kick that'd have him behaving like less of a dick. Please. The fucking break he hasn't asked her for is there, inching closer to letting itself be said, and he's scared of that, going there like.* Alright. *He wants to give himself a smack for how quiet he sounds. Serious. Okay knobhead, calm it. Good luck following that through when you know you've got none though, Jim. He's up and taking her hand before he can dwell on it, moving to take the lead as far as retracing their steps and being out. He can handle that geography. Jimmy does allow himself a pause small enough only to draw a cross over his heart playfully once she's played the violin for him. Thanks, mate. It's almost spoken aloud 'cause of the relief the familiarity of it , brought here and now, comforts him. Alright, calm it again, tosser. But yeah, that works, letting him. He walks stretching their linked hands as far as possible while staying connected, laughing genuinely, still soft but out there. He draws a quick tick over the same space, hurriedly.* Done. Janis: Alright. *She confirms with a nod as serious as his close-to-silence was. Couldn't accuse him of being a man of too MANY words usually, like, but still, spoke volumes, didn't it? Could write friggin' volumes on how badly she was fucking it up with him now. That's what you did after break-ups, right? Write wanky (in all the ways) poetry. Fuck that. Get the fuck out of your own head, fucking eejit! Now! He's still here yet. She seized the conversation by the balls, 'fore it got away from her grasp again, immediately adding-* Alright, alright, alright! *Matthew McConaughey style. 'Cos Christ, someone had to cut through the tension and she weren't about to invite the fam up to give it a go. Fuck that, too. Even if it was awkward as arse, to say the least, and the dead and buried past was unearthing itself just to try drag her under tonight- she still wanted it to be just them. Him and her, fuck the rest. And that was something. Even if that was all she could get, all she still had. She'd cling to that with bleeding, broken nails, jaw clamped, teeth sunk deep in the flesh of it. It was something. She was so fucking used to, so fucking sick of, nothing. A promise, or a prayer, she repeated it over and over, 'til she near believed it herself. With this in mind, she pulls on the hand that is leading her, pulls him back, understanding his rush and only wanting to slow it for one thing. She mimics shooting him where he had been tracing, where she wants to trail her own fingers badly, as he draws in, she puts her fist over his heart, thumping up and down, up and down, before exploding out- And with that, she kisses him, as desperate as he was to take up her offer and run, she needed this more. And she had never known anything she needed more than to run. But she did. She did.* Done. *She mirrors, drawing her lips away from his, with a smirk. Ahead again, one foot on the top step.* Jimmy: *He's about to descend back into mockery, the words 'all about the obscure refs, you' there, ready to go if he's willing to release them, thoughts already going backward, onto the typed convo where she tried to give him an artsy education, school him about muses, all of that, but before he can take the step she's pulling him, literally to where she's forced a stop. In the first second he's tense, thinking it's a full one, that she's done with him and the company he isn't being tonight, but before he can fall further into his pit (he's in there enough, prior that she's tried to dig at him with her best McConaughey, for fuck's sake) he all but floats out. There's no # that could cover this in his stunted imagination, he thinks, before his brain shuts off. The kiss is more than the break he didn't have the balls to ask for (though it lasts about as long as the one he'd gave her, standing on some twat's marble floor). It's a separation from all the shit that's been running him ragged for days, forcing him to run here in the first place. Jimmy knows then that he'll stay, has to, not 'cause there's nowhere else to go, but 'cause nowhere else exists when she kisses him like that. Fuck. It basically escapes, not as the word, but in sound that he can't escape either. Doesn't want to. The only thing he cares about is keeping this close to her and knowing she's alright with him being there. More than fucking alright like.* Nah mate *He retorts breathlessly, clawing back some strength back only as his hands find her hips and use the grip he's found there to spin her body round to face him. He isn't done yet, there's no chance. Not now she's given him one to erase the last few days and land him back into decent ones with her. Jimmy's an echo of how he was after running from Mr Lucas and he's not letting go of that. What for? 'Cause his dad wants him to. Fuck that and fuck him. What was he done with was feeling like shit. So of course he kissed her again, sinking only into the depths of that, trying to say everything with it that he couldn't verbally. Needing to have a go even though it meant hearing Janis' clatter into the beginnings of the banister with the force of everything he was desperate for her to know, 'cause if he pulled back then that'd be it and he's not having that. Fuck no. He's lost enough, tonight's bed being the least of it. Janis: *If she was going to complain, (she wasn't), he doesn't give her the time, or space, to do so. Exactly what they both needed; and she didn't need to reckon that. Crashing together, crashing into the wall, like. No room for anything to come between 'em, not their thoughts or past or any of that bullshit; all blurring into background nothingness, where it belonged. In these moments, there was nothing but them and their need. And it was good. Really good. The kind of good she didn't need to second-guess or overthink. Just be in it and soak in every second, every touch, the heat and feel of his skin against hers, alive, human, real. The violence of the urgency, the competitive one-upping- Not only keeping it interesting (to say the fucking least) but keeping it as something she could understand, something that didn't scare the living shit out of her, frankly. Easy as breathing, this; Though both theirs was heavy now, laboured from the control of letting some of said go, whilst not losing themselves to it so wholly that they alerted someone to it, spoiling their fun for the second time in a week. A game of meeting every kiss of his with more, and then some. Biting, tugging at his bottom lip in, trying in vain to make the kiss even deeper. Nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down with her as her back slid down the wall, him sat at the top of the stairs, her on his lap. 'How did you stop yourself though?' A faint voice in the back of her mind pondered, with no intention to found within her. Clearly, they needed the Mr. Lucas' of the world or they'd never get anything else done. Clearly channeling the man himself, Pablo chose this time to appear out of his room, quite literally stumbling onto the scene, and them, Janis sticking out an arm (and jumping off Jim's lap) with lightning reflexes so he didn't topple down the fucking stairs.* Oops, watch it... *She didn't have time (nor desire) to be embarrassed. Her older Brother's mumbly, half-asleep grumbles of 'a-fucking-gain? Really Janis?!' and promises to 'have words with you, later!' to Jim, had her creasing. When Pablo was out of sight, and out of mind as soon as, she rested her head on the shoulder she'd left nailmarks in, kissing it gently though she wasn't particularly sorry about it.* Jimmy: *It isn't until she has to save him from hitting the bottom of the stairs with a thud that he even sorts out in his head again where they are, beyond the abstract bollocks of 'together' and all that. It takes that much to get through to him, but he isn't sorry, 'cause he isn't alone in it. If he's falling, figuratively as well as the near literal, then she is too. And that's alright by him. More than fucking alright, as per like. Jimmy can laugh through this interruption, at what it takes to pull them apart now (unlucky Mr Lucas but you probably won't cut it next time) adding to it himself with the breathless whisper of 'fucking hell, mate' that finds only her ear as he shakes his head affectionately at the pair of 'em. Janis' brother's appearance (along with anything he might have said) forgotten as soon as it's happened, same as before. If they'd been any room for it he might have felt bad for the lad, keeping mugging him off like that, but he still wants what he wants. Needs, honestly. There's no forgetting, or ignoring that any 'itch' has only been scratched so far as to make it more 'itchier', more noticeable in the first place. It's a crap analogy but it's what's there as he pulls her down the stairs and back towards the door, rougher and noisier that he would if he could make a string of thoughts or words fit together properly to promise her that this still isn't done. Jimmy 'reckons' in a semi coherent idea that he'll barricade the barn door with any or all manner of shit, once they are there,  to guarantee no more interruptions tonight. Bet on that, mate, his expression says, as they go. Jinx. Fuck. He almost kicks the door in frustration upon hearing the shout for dinner, her dad's head catching them as 'ready' for it. Pfft. No chance. It smells good, yeah, but there's no contest. Janis feels, looks and smells incredible like. Meals can wait, they always did at his, even when he had his mum there to do his job of moving a tray of something from freezer to cooker, or his pop's of fetching a takeaway when in from work, there was no sitting down at a this or that time. No table to eat at either, just the sofa, or his bed when he was being the type of utter dickhead that only a certain age manages, whenever it was put in front of him. Here at Janis, that time, was right now. And worse, ('cause of course there's worse with his English luck) before he can do a dash that'd have that school day looking like slo-mo, his stomach rumbles, sealing the deal and their fates. His girlfriend has never let him go hungry yet. Shit. To be continued then.*