#doing his route is like pulling teeth and eating socks

[mitskiluvr]

replaying mystic messenger is so crazy because why am i gentle parenting these grown men and teaching them how to handle their feelings

[brickstick3000]

Request: [Eddie or Steve x sub m reader where they come home and the reader is wearing their clothes???] by @the-great-himbo

Honestly, I really wanna write for a different ST character (sooner or later), but I have to stick with Eddie here... Harrington just isn't dominant in my eyes. Apologies. Perhaps with Dom!reader???

Hope this is sweet enough for ya :P

...

I changed my mind. Steve definitely fits this scenario better (and I'm sick of describing Eddie's caravan 💀)

❧✎Dressed in Yellow

Dom!Steve Harrington x Sub!male reader

CW: ⚠️18+ | Minors DNI⚠️

Waking up to the hum of morning silence, Y/n's eyes drooped open. The room he lay in was still; painted cool blue and peered in on by loose streaks of sun. The lone birds flitting around outside chirped their muffled song.

Serene. Peaceful.

Y/n sighed, rolling over to give his 'partner' an early greeting, but all that met him were a ripple of sheets and Steve's plumped up pillow. There also lay a note by his head...

'Be back soon.

Henderson having one of his "scientific breakthroughs" again.

:).'

Of course; Y/n hadn't expected him to be anywhere else.

With a soft yawn, and the remains of a smile resting upon his lips, the man rolled out of bed- a pair of socks being slipped on before he exited Steve's room.

Without the Harrington's in for the day, the house lay hushed and cavernous, allowing to Y/n do as he pleased.

In the forest cabin, elegant and prim as it was, he felt more at peace than when back at home. The place held a character of mystery about it; like something out of a fantasy novel. Just imagine: fairies and all kinds of mythical things dwelling in the woods that breathed around him. Y/n almost wished it were real...

After grabbing a bite to eat and daydreaming by Steve's high-seated window, Y/n picked himself up, and made route for the bathroom.

The panels of modern wood led him through the Harringtons' expansive hallway, and Y/n began to strip off across the landing. Checkered trousers fell to the floor and a pyjama top was discarded elswhere as Y/n locked the door behind himself.

☆

"Now then. What to wear..." The Senior stepped onto heated tiles, feelingtired again as the heat hugged him close. Y/n, after wringing a towel over his back and face, began cleaning his teeth.

Yesterday's clothes were basically off limits, still not having dried from the freak storm last night (a blessing in disguise, if you will. It meant that Y/n might get intimate with his undisclosed lover again.)

Therefore, he'd have to find other ways to make himself decent.

Resolved, Y/n stepped out of the bathroom- the towel clinging loose to his hips as he dripped a trail of water down the hall. (He'd clean that up later... wouldn't want to upset the rich and proper Harrington family.)

Y/n slid open Steve's cupboard, stepping inside to take a gander.

Oh look: the infamous yellow jumper. It was quite surprising to see, since Steve never left his house without it. Y/n pulled the article out without hesitation. He wouldn't need anything underneath. That was too much hassle.

Next, unravelling a pair of shorts from the rack, and stealing one of Steve's boxers, Y/n retreated from the wardrobe (placing his collection upon the sheets.) The waist-hing towel was slid away and rubbed remissedly at his hair before Y/n got changed into Steve's clothes.

As he came to look in the mirror, it was evident that Y/n was lacking any style; all the 80s trend-hoppers would've stoned him to death. Yet the jumper was hugging his form so soft and snug that he really couldn't care for looking good.

'Swagger? I hardly know her.'

Chuckling to his absolutely horrendous joke, Y/n twozzled around and got to work cleaning up his mess.

Soon enough, there was a chime at the door.

"Y/n?" Steve was home.

Gleaming from ear to ear, the man hopped up from his cleaning station and jogged downstairs.

"Morning." He remarked, poking his head around the wall. "D'you have fun with Henderson?"

"Oh my God, don't even get me started on that kid." Steve huffed, locking up the house and hanging his keys on their hook. "I am seriously never going out with him again."

"Oh please." Such a drama queen, like always. Harrington loved those kids with all his heart. Patting him on the back, Y/n waltzed by and into the living room. "You couldn't go a week without him."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Steve knew it was true.

Gradually, he too made trek for the sofa, catching a glimpse of Y/n's damp hair resting back. Steve imagined how nice it must smell- fresh and familiar as his own.

"How'd you slee- urh-"

Harrington halted, staring with knitted eyebrows. Was that... his jumper?

"What was that?" The other mumbled, fixated on some wacky magazine he'd found lying around...

Almost like he wasn't wearing Steve's clothes?

"Wha- oh. Urm, how was your sleep?" Steve sounded as though he was questioning his own question, not Y/n.

"Oh, it was great, actually. Your room is so quiet in the morning." Steve wanted to say something, really, he did. But the way Y/n was curled up in those flimsy shorts- skin revealing itself where it really shouldn't do and the material slipping down even further... any and all words had been trapped in Steve's throat.

"Y... yeah."

"Uh, are you okay, Harrington?"

Absolutely not. His cheeks were ablaze with heat, and the sudden glance of his friend was making things all the worse. Eyes averted, Steve took a brisk seat beside Y/n- his palms ever so clammy, and unable to stop fumbling with eachother.

"You good..?"

Now they were staring at eachother, eyes never wavering. Steve now locked onto like he couldn't let go.

Hoping he would say it. Hoping he could do it.

With a slight shake of his head, he finally spoke up.

"God, no." and Steve leaned forward, connecting their lips as his heart beat deafeningly between them. The moment was sealed. Finally, what they'd been wanting to happen was happening.

Y/n was quick to react, moving his mouth in near practiced synch, and worming an arm over Steve's thigh. They embraced eachother gently as Harrington's fingers took residence against Y/n's neck, pulling him closer by the waist.

Gradually, their tongues became restless and would slide past that threshold of swollen skin.

Something new. Something that felt real special.

Y/n released a soft moan, all too excited about that moment. And he just hoped Steve wouldn't find it weird. Would that make it strange?

But he only kissed harder, moving his palms rather low and reaching for Y/n's.

"Come on," he panted into the other's mouth, before guiding him off the sofa on a slow ascent to Steve's room- Y/n still held close. Y/n still kissing him.

As the door swayed shut behind them, Harrington held firm against Y/n's hips, moving blindly forth until their knees knocked together. Smooth and slow, the two crawled backwards, engrossed in the movement of their delicious touch as the sheets spread around them.

Steve's fingers started to wander again- tracing over familiar material before they disappeared underneath his sweater. Y/n's chest rose and fell distinctly so where his hands brushed and pampered.

"Ah..." the man whispered out mindlessly as soon as their faces pulled apart. Harrington's swollen lips attatched to the other's neck, planting warm and brief pecks against the skin before skipping over to his torso.

"You look amazing in these clothes," Steve hummed against his rib cage, sucking pink marks all the way down to Y/n's navel.

His partner sighed in response, rarely letting a noise out, but fully immersed in Steve's ministrations.

Palms stroking down the man's sides, Harrington hooked a couple fingers into his basketball shorts, and teased down the boxers along with them. Kissing along the way. Awed by the definition of muscle and bone that revealed itself as he pulled.

Y/n's dick peeled into the open, throbbing in the tepid air and swooning at the sight of Steve's curious eyes.

He reached forward to caress up its side, nails grazing the skin and knees finally settling on the carpet. Y/n would gasp a muffled breath as Harrington's fist slid firm over the head.

Moving his wrist down, and back up the shaft in one full stroke, Harrington leaned forward, nudging Y/n's legs further apart with his face. Nose deep where he wanted to be. In the scent of his own shower gel and fabric conditioner that had stained Y/n's skin.

His tongue reached out, flicking over the flesh that had Y/n's nerves twitching.

The muscle pushed right through, hot and bulging as L/n's eyes flit open in shock. Steve had began stroking up the length of his dick again, finally reaching a pace that he would stick to, and getting accustomed to the motion of his tongue deep in foreign territory.

For someone who had never been with another man, let alone done this with a woman, he was tearing Y/n into a silent wreck. Trying hard not to clench down, and barely able to get a sound out- the stimulus was stunning.

"O-ho, Steve." He groaned, peering down as the latter would grip his leg (pushing it up to fold and stretch Y/n wider.)

The man, still sliding his magical wrist up and down, angled Y/n's dick to one side, so their eyes could meet. A sultry look on his face.

"Fuck, Steve." Y/n could barely whisper now. Chest beating and falling in quick succession; mouth making all kinds of "o" and "ah" shapes without a sound. "I... I'm close."

Then Steve picked up the pace; fist jolting with calculated control and his tongue never stopping for a break. Y/n's ears burned with adrenaline; his unrelenting huffs filling the room.

"Oh god-"

Mouth fallen agape, and constellations twinkling behind his pupils, Y/n came with a fitful shudder. His groan delayed and completely uncensored.

Steve watched him with a lustful gaze, pulling out and slowing his hand to a halt before he released Y/n's dick.

"Steve, that was... fucking amazing." They chuckled in tandem as Steve slipped his hand into Y/n's, leaning over and decorating his knuckles with kisses.

"Really? Maybe we should do it again, some time?"

"I would really like that, Harrington..." Y/n sighed, closing his droopy eyes. "Now... go wash your hands. They're nasty sticky."

Huffing at the triviality of Y/n's words, Steve let go of him in reluctance and headed for the bathroom

Thank god for that yellow sweater.

It's 3.47 am :D

This shit is kinda wack, but it could be worse lolol.

[speedypandaweasel]

One Big Adventure - a Wilford Warfstache and Abe story (Non-Ship) (2,914 Words)

Thank you for the request @canceltheact! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to submit a request, see the information at the Masterlist and submit through the Q and A!

PSA - THIS IS NOT A SHIP oke, let us begin...

Dazed images fog up the minds of two *very* hungover men as they stagger their way up to the apartment. Abe fumbles his way through the door and over strewn clothes. He continues on and manages to put together the kaleidoscope of scenery that is right in front of him. To his left, a saggy sofa sits and a cheap TV dangerously hangs off the stripping wallpaper by a thread. To his right, a grimy kitchen is on display which even the worst chef in the world wouldn't waste his time in. The other man, however, is blabbering away, slurring his words like a car on an icy motorway. "HA!, I tell *hick* you Abe, I'm so glad I remembered you, you see *hick*, I can't even remember where I put my-" Aaaand he's gone. His body moulds into the cushions that poorly support his droopy frame, and his scuffed platform boots dangle over the side. Abe smiles, slightly soberer than before. Who would have thought that this stock still of a man, whose only aesthetics were the colour beige and veterans, would somehow have a goofy, lighter side to him? All the criminals he's met and caught among the years...

Hold up, has he met anyone? He can't remember any experiences where he HAS met any, so why did he think that? Hm, must be the Tequila talking. Abe hopscotches over the empty Wine and Martini bottles that are decorated across the stained carpet. Damm, William has not been taking care of himself. Mind you, neither has he so he can't really say anything. He arrives into the walk-in kitchen and opens a dusty cupboard. His tired eyes only meet with shot and tumbler glasses.

How much does this Man drink!? Shuffling used plates and greasy cutlery out of the way, he fills a scotch glass with water. Dowsing the liquid felt like heaven. His exhausted physique felt like a body that's been stuck in the desert for a considerable amount of time and didn't know it needed water to survive. Oh, now he feels the headache coming on.

Reader, you know when water tastes funny? It's because your brain hasn't been receiving enough H20 because you've been drinking too many energy drinks. Yeah, that feeling is exactly what Abe is feeling right now. CONTINUING ON!

The scotch glass watches from the draining board whilst the Detective plays the quietest game of the floor is lava, whilst the moustached man is making much more noise. He manages to reach a corridor which he thinks leads towards the bedroom and tiptoes down the tight hall to find a vacant room. On the way, he passes another room. It was Barnum's. His mind was split in two, Does he go in? Or stay out? Through the crack in the door, the catastrophe has indeed spread into his sleeping quarters. A mountain of flamboyant disco clothes gathers dust in front of his Chester draws, the bed's not made and more liquor bottles are having a social gathering on top. Oh William, you may be a murderer, but you need to prioritise yourself. He takes a last look at his passed out flatmate down the hallway, before shutting the guest bedroom door. Grey. It's all he's met with. Much like his exterior. He slips his shoes off and starts to unbutton his off-white shirt. he runs a hand down his chest and over the scar. How the Hell did he survive that? He can't be bothered to go into it right now, he's too tired. He snuggles into bed and does the infamous cold bed dance.

You know the one.

Abe gets out of the tempting bed once more and walks back into the living room. He creeps over to William, the man's mouth catching flies. He carefully takes his enormous shoes off and places them on the floor. Barnum's mismatch socks disappear underneath the blanket. "Night William."

~ A gorgeous smell of Breakfast wanders its way through the apartment and Abe groggily wakes up. His eyes peel open and with a yawn, he trudges through to the living room. Remembering from earlier this morning, he needed to position himself for his dance routine around the non-existent floor. "What are you doing my main man?" Barnum brightly asks, a hearty chuckle accompanies the question. Resided in the pristine kitchen, his big, strong hand holds a Skillet and two China plates are centred on the pebble grey marble island. Abe, however, is currently squatting as though he was playing a game of leapfrog with some imaginary friends. The Detective goes to jump but then is taken back at the sight. The apartment is now spick and span, no more Wine Bottles, no more strewn clothes. The windows are tied wide open and it overlooks the sketchy neighbourhood that they reside in. "How did you do this?" "Do what?" "You know, clean up this quickly?" Barnum checks his watch. It's 7:30 am "Oh well you see, I ironed a nice pair of jeans and found a lovely dandelion coloured shirt. Accompanied by some rainbow braces I think I look quite dashing don't you think so?" "No William, I-I mean the Apartm-AAH!" Abe clings his hand over his head, damm this- "Headache is killing you?" William slides a glass of water over with an Aspirin pill. "And no, I didn't clean the apartment, she did." Wilford looks- wait, why are you looking at me!? "Anywho, we need to get going my slightly hungover companion! But first, breakfast!" Wilford sets a serving plate down of a full English Breakfast: Sausage, an Egg, two cooked Tomatoes, Bacon rashes, Baked Beans and a slice of Buttered Toast. Wow. He didn't know William could cook? The two men got stuck in right away and the TV is turned on. Two bright and very similar faces appear on the screen "Badgers the secret Killer?... And now for the weather, Jim?"

The camera pans to, what they believe, is Jim. Their face resembles a deer in headlights. "I swear, they don't know what they're doing. It's hilarious!" The Detective says with a mouthful of Toast. Barnum laughs, wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes a swig of his Orange juice. "Right! I mean, who is their boss anyway?!" The men eat and laugh their way through their plates talking about what topics they would cover if they were reporters. After a while, they both recline back into their bar stools and the cook starts to tidy up the dirty dishes. "Oh, no, let me do it. It's the least I can do." "You're alright my man, I've got this. Besides, you need to freshen up!" "But whe-'" "First door on your left"

They share a light chuckle. "Thanks Wilford, I really appreciated that," Abe says before going back down the hallway, whilst Wilford rolls his sleeves up and starts to clean the less-silver cutlery.

He smiles. That's the first time he's ever said that to him. "No problem Abe."

~

The passenger door slams shut on the Detective's Vintage SUV and Wiford pulls out a gigantic map from his pocket. This map includes hundreds of paths scrawled with crayons and a hint of Martini can be smelt.

"Are you sure, you know where you're going?" Abe questions. Judging by what that map reads, they are going to get lost very easily.

"Of course I know where I'm going! I am Wilford Motherloving Warftsache after all." A pang of guilt hits the Detective, he genuinely can't remember who he was.

"Ok, Wil, you can drive."

After playing at least 3 rounds of rock paper scissors, or when Wilford won, Abe hesitantly let the murderer drive. God knows where though.

Wilford excitedly thrust the keys into the ignition. He couldn't wait for what the day entailed!

"Careful Willford, you're gonna break the keys!" Abe says through gritted teeth.

"Oh pah-lease! I know how to drive" he retaliates. His brown boot floors the pedal and reverses straight into the iron fence.

"Yep, it's working."

The Detectives face, now pale, grips tighter onto his seatbelt and his feet are glued to the floor. "Wil, of course it's working. Now, step on the ga- nope, that's the brakes Wilford."

Pedestrians quiver in fear as they see a horribly driven brown vehicle screech to a stop and then start again. They have to clamp down on their ears as the monster of a car drives past them down the alleyway, swerving left and right much like the driver's speech the other night.

The SUV survives to the end of the road and dents a stop sign perched, well once, straight on the kerb.

"Will, which route are we taking?" Abe asks as he takes the map from the driver's hands.

"It's the one marked Highway of Life, it's gonna be a good one, trust you me."

"Well, this has got off to a surprising start so why not go for an adventure?" Abe says. He's given up at this point.

~

"LIFE IS A HIIIGHHWWAYY! I WWAAANNNA RRIIDDEE IIT ALLL NIIGGHTT LOOOOONNGG!" The two pop stars start belting out of the car as Wilford drives them to their last stop. Who would have thought that two polar opposites positions of the law would be in the same car together, let alone blasting Disney songs out of the car.

Wilford's hair whips away from his face as the SUV's top winds down.

"LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS EH ABE?"

"HELL YEAH IT DOES"

The Afternoon sun blazes down onto their blacked-out sunglasses and the Golden Gate bridge paints a picture for the Detective that prescribes him with a carefree attitude.

Life was his to choose and he was here for it.

~

The SUV turns off the Highway onto Richmond Street. The Afternoon sun glowing dimmer.

Just in time.

Now reader, if you haven't read my WKM Tumblr Song series, then you won't understand this next section.

The SUV passes bountiful shrubberies and picket fences. Cherry Blossom dust drift its way into the car and Wilford starts to tear up.

"You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." After all his years of interrogation, Abe knows that that answer was a lie. Yet, he didn't want to push it.

The car comes to a halt and is parked underneath a summer coated oak tree.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I want to show you something."

Abe opens the vintage door and steps out. In front of him, wildflowers and grass sway on the cliffs breeze and small pink flowers grow on its edge. Overhead, a sea glistens with sunlight rays and pink and amber hues dust the sky.

Man, this is enough to make a grown man cry.

The cars driver door can be heard shutting and a shadow walks up behind him. An intimate silence roots itself between the two men.

"You may be wondering why I brought you here."

Abe nods, still looking forward, yet intriguingly listening.

The man sighs, "I used to come here all the time as a young lad. We used to have picnics and dance until dawn. We were so free up here. Away from life, away from Duty, and she was away from Him, that was all that mattered. "

His voice breaks.

"But things change, people change and suddenly, I couldn't do that anymore.

That's why I want you to see it."

Wilford wanders over to their spot and picks up one of the pink flowers sprouting through the grass.

"You may have thought of us as the scum of the Earth Detective. But there are two sides to every story."

The Detective joins the Murderer and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Wilford chuckles. The last time he was here, he was completely and utterly alone. He was like- like a freshly born fawn still trying to find his legs into this world that didn't make sense.

But now...but now things are looking a little brighter.

"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it."

"You can't do anything really, it's just the way this messed up world works."

The two friends sit down in the grass, making fresh new imprints into the cliff edge, next to two fading ones.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure" "How many people have I killed?"

...

That question lingers in the air for an uncomfortably long time. All that can be heard are the lapping of the waves below them and the occasional swallow talking in the trees.

...

"I don- don't know Wilford," Abe breaks the silence, "I should know, but I-I don't.

...

Abe looks at Wilford, his broken and tear-stained eyes manage to glance back before returning to look out at the sunset.

Abe must do something here. But what? He said himself that nothing can be done so what can he do?

He reminisces on the day they were reunited. So much anger, so much confusion. But Wil was so cheerful, not a care in the world!

Now look at him.

And it was all his fault. If only he didn't get involved...

A second flashes by and Abe does something he should have done the second Will did it.

He hugs Him.

...

"I'm sorry Will."

...

Moments cling on for seems like forever and the embrace is broken. The two tear-stained friends look up.

The afternoon sun has now gone beneath the horizon and is replaced with the all too familiar twilight scenery, which glows softly for miles and miles, each star a lantern that has been entrusted with keeping something special.

"There was another reason why I wanted to bring you here."

Wilford wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "Do you see that star, the big one?"

"Yeah" "That's the Evening Star. That Star is the reason why I have hope. And now I want to share that hope with you. I know we got off the wrong foot but since we're in the same boat now, I think it's time I opened up about where I've actually been."

Abe swallows, this man is truly broken, and he can't do anything about it.

"Thank you for trusting me." "We're not done yet. It's your turn!" "What?" "Make a wish." Cautiously, the Detective slowly stands up from his permanent grassy imprint and walks towards the cliff's edge. The man looks around and sees only patches of shrubbery and wildflowers.

And his newfound friend encouraging him to proceed.

He clasps his hands together and wishes hard. His eyes scrunch together as he becomes a child once more as well. His once tight shoulders have finally become relaxed. After so many years of searching for answers, he doesn't need to worry any more.

A single tear is swept away from the Murderers face as he watches on from the patch of grass. He remembers that feeling and the dream he wished for all those years ago. Yet now, his wish is slowly changing.

Granted, he can't remember who he was but bully does he know what he wants to be. And being here for him, at this very moment, is a wonderful way to start it.

Abe's hands fall to his side and he stares out onto the ever stretching view. His feet are glued to the spot and his mind is only fixated on that one goal. Wilford slowly joins his side, already having a hunch on what he dearly wants.

"What did you wish for?" The Murderer asks.

The Detective huckles, "Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"Very true my friend."

Little did the men know that their newly found wishes were the same.

"Don't you mean, Best Friend?"

CRACK

The heartwarming moment is abruptly stopped by the sky blasting wide open and millions of sounds exploding across the cliff. The light breeze has rapidly sped up into a storm and is propelling thick gusts upon the two.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL NOW!?" Wilford yells at the hole, completely unfazed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!?" Abe yells at his Friend.

"OF COURSE I DO, IT'S TIME FOR WORK."

"WORK!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A JOB!?"

"WE ALL HAVE A JOB - WE'RE ACTORS! I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF WE DON'T GET SPLIT UP."

"IF WE DONT GET SPLIT UP!? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" "I HAVE NO IDEA! BUT THAT'S THE FUN OF IT! AFTER THREE, WE WALK IN."

"ARE YOU CRAZY WE'RE GONNA FALL!"

"TRUST ME, WE WON'T."

Wilford grabs Abe's hand and he stares at him. Abe stares back, fear-stricken. Finally, he nods.

"TOGETHER?" "TOGETHER."

"ONE"

"TWO"

"THREE!!!!" The two Actors charge straight over the cliff and into the blinding light.

~

Wilford finds himself in some kind of leather chair with neon lights surrounding him. A script in one and his prop gun in his other.

No pants on, no wonder he feels too comfortable.

He scans his scene and sees his co-actor, Kathryn, running her lines on the other side of the room.

A chair sits opposite him and behind that, a red T-30 minutes until showtime sign is displayed for him.

Abe, however, isn't needed on set yet. His adventure hasn't begun.

But both of their characters will have to cross at one point or another, it's just a matter of time. Yet for a fact, no one can edit their Friendship; Their Joint Wish.

Because, as they say, Life is a road that you're travelling on, when there's one day here, and the next day gone.

[toosicktoocare]

In honor of The Umbrella Academy S2 coming out in one week, here’s a fic I wrote a hot minute ago on AO3 with sick Klaus and pissed off Ben. 

This feeling isn’t new to Klaus; in fact, it’s painfully familiar. His body is a heavy, throbbing, lump of ice yet his head is a ball of fire crackling and floating above his pillow. Every inch of his skin hurts, and his muscles are pulsing in time with a too rapid heartbeat. He’s shaking, teeth clenched together to keep from chattering freely, but the blanket he’s got gripped up to his chin is doing nothing to ward of the chill that’s clinging mercilessly to his bones.

Yes, for Klaus, this feeling is painfully familiar. It’s a feeling that follows its stark contrast of airy nothingness, light bliss. This, now, this is withdrawal.

“It’s not withdrawal, Klaus.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Klaus asks, voice rubbed raw from a fitful night filled with hollow coughs.

“You’ve been mumbling for a while now.”

Ben’s voice, Klaus thinks with a frown, is laced with a familiar coat of concern—one that’s reserved just for him and his various fuck ups throughout his shitshow of a life. He groans, and the deep growl agitates his throat. He pushes himself up on one elbow and coughs harshly into his fist, his lungs rattling with each grating cough.

He catches his breath after a few, painful moments that feel like an eternity, and he pries his eyes open. Ben’s at his side, looking down at him with narrow, studying eyes and a furrowed forehead. His arms are crossed, but his fingers are twitching slightly, as if fighting off a need to reach out to Klaus.

Behind Ben, there’s a crowd of the dead—a woman with a noose hanging around her neck, a man in a hospital gown with an IV sticking out of his arm, a crew of three young gentleman with familiar helmets, faces covered in dirt and blood, dog tags…

Klaus shakes his head with a few, weak coughs and brings his focus back to Ben. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on my dream-filled mutterings, dear brother,” Klaus says, a half-smile pulling across tired lips as he falls back against his pillow. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”

Rolling his eyes, Ben takes a seat on the edge of Klaus’s bed, and Klaus shivers a little harder at the chill that follows the deceased.

“You’re sick, Klaus. You should go get someone.”

“Or,” Klaus draws out, voice cracking, “I could stay here with my favorite, dead brother.”

“I’m not going to be the only dead sibling if you stay up here by yourself.”

There’s a flick of a thought that crosses Klaus’s mind—a thought that was a constant in his drug-riddled mind. Death. It’s something he desired, an out from his “ability,” as his father would call it.

“Klaus, get the hell up. Everyone’s downstairs.”

Ben’s voice cuts through his dark thoughts, and Klaus blinks up sheepishly as his brother. “Fine, fine, Benny Boy. I’m going.”

Getting out of bed is a new level of difficult. This, he thinks, definitely feels like withdrawal, but he’s clean—he’s been clean for two months, yet in those fifty-six days, the thought of a relapse, of consuming even the smallest of pills that will take the dead away, has been prominent around the headache in his mind. But he’s held off, not wishing to remain a disappointment.

Standing feels like he’s balancing on a surfboard that’s fighting against crashing waves. Everything’s spinning, and in seconds, he’s dripping in sweat despite his clacking teeth. “Shit,” he groans, bringing one hand to his head. “This, dear brother, fucking sucks.” A cough follows his words, and he stumbles toward the door. The floor’s rocking underneath his socks, and he has to stop and lean heavily against the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over.

“Klaus…”

Ben’s hands are hovering just inches from Klaus’s arms, and Klaus studies the pale hands for a moment before bringing his eyes to Ben’s.

“I’m good—just need a minute. Everything’s,” he stops, twirling his finger weakly in a circular motion, “all spinny.”

Ben remains at his side when he stumbles into Luther’s room to snag and oversized gray cardigan that swallows his slender frame, and his dead brother stays dangerously close when he climbs down the never-ending stairs with a grip on the bannister that’s tight enough to have his knuckles fading to a frightening white. He has to stop twice to sit and cough harshly until dark spots dance across his vision, but he makes it down without killing himself.

He can hear his siblings in a heated discussion in the living room, and when he enters, he goes unnoticed, even as he stumbles across the room to an unoccupied loveseat. He’s out of breath when he flops onto the cushion, and he pulls the cardigan over his mouth to mask the sharp, burning coughs that tremble out from his lungs.

“Is that my sweater?” Luther asks.

“Fuck off, Luther.”

Klaus raises one brow toward Ben, who’s leaning against the arm rest beside him, before he shrugs. “It’s warm.”

“It’s mine, and you just coughed all over it.” Luther squints toward Klaus, and Klaus shrinks further into the couch as if hoping the couch would open up and eat him—he would take anything to get away from that scrutinizing gaze he’s so accustomed to.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Are you sick, Klaus?”

Vanya’s voice is gentle, concerned, and Klaus aches to go toward that care, but Luther interjects before Klaus can explain himself.

“No, he’s just coming off drugs like usual. Diego, go check his room.”

“You fucking do it,” Diego snaps, glaring at Luther. “I don’t answer to you.”

“Diego,” Allison warns, doing her best to keep the peace between the two who are always at war with one another. “Klaus,” she continues, pulling her attention toward her other brother. “Did you take something?”

“No,” Klaus mutters around a cough. “I’m clean.”

“It’s okay if you did,” Allison starts, going a different route. “You can tell us—we just want to help.”

“Oh, wow,” Diego drawls out. “Allison the fucking saint. That’s new.”

“Watch it, Diego.”

Luther’s growl reverberates uncomfortably in Klaus’s head, and he whimpers quietly, pulling the cardigan over his head as his siblings begin to bicker. In a way, their loud voices, all fighting to be the loudest, to be heard, are worse than the ghosts who smother him with screaming and crying. Maybe because he can’t focus his mind to shut his siblings out—because they aren’t dead. They’re alive, and they are so fucking loud.

His head is throbbing. He can’t stop shaking, and he’s exhausted despite only waking a few minutes before. “Ben,” he whispers, coughing harshly into the arm rest of the couch while he moves both hands over his ears to block out the arguing. “Can you make them stop?”

He knows it’s an empty request because Ben can’t—his brother can only speak to him. But, below him, the couch begins to vibrate, and before he can remove the cardigan from his face to look, there’s a bellowing shout from his side.

“Shut the fuck up! Klaus is sick!”

The sounds of glass breaking and pictures falling mix in with Ben’s booming voice, and after, an uncomfortable silence covers the room. Slowly, Klaus moves the cardigan to see Ben sitting on the couch beside him and looking at the floor with wide, surprised eyes.

“Sh-shit, Ben,” Klaus mutters, but before he can reach out toward Ben, Five is popping in front of him, manifesting from the kitchen to the living room in the mere blink of an eye.

His other siblings are crowding behind Five, but Five only stares at the empty space where he assumes Ben is sitting before he pushes Klaus’s sweaty bangs back and slides his palm across Klaus’s forehead.

Five’s hand is cool, and Klaus leans into it, his eyes fluttering shut at the uncharacteristically gentle touch.

“Was that Ben?”

“How do we know this isn’t just withdrawal?”

“Five?”

“It’s not withdrawal,” Five says, moving his gaze back to the empty space on the couch where Ben’s seated, watching him. “It’s probably the flu—I don’t think he would have a fever this high with just a cold.”

“Fucking finally.”

“How do you feel, Klaus?”

Klaus has to blink a few times to ward off the graying darkness that’s creeping at the edge of his vision. He moves a slow gaze toward Vanya. “Dear sister, I feel like utter shit.” His tone is lackluster, missing its usual easy flare. He turns to cough into the cardigan while his siblings look to Five.

“Luther, carry him back upstairs. He probably won’t make the walk back up. Diego, check the master bathroom for medicine. Vanya and Allison, he’ll need to eat, but only something light unless you want to clean up his vomit. And, Ben,” Five shifts his gaze back to the couch, “stay with him.”

“Like I have a choice.”

Klaus has just enough energy to note the lack of sarcastic heat in Ben’s reply before he gives in to the darkness pulling at him with strong, large hands.

*****

“Klaus? Klaus, are you awake?”

Klaus feels as if he’s lying in a pool of ice yet he’s facing the sun that’s hovering right over him. He aches horribly, and going back to sleep is ideal, but he cracks his eyes open. “How’d you do it?”

Frowning, Ben cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“The poltergeist thing,” Klaus elaborates around a few coughs.

“I… I don’t know. I was just—I was pissed and worried.”

“Aww,” Klaus croaks out. “You did all that just for little old me?”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Long Way From Home: Chapter 11

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

I... totally forgot to update last week.  Oops.  Lab time’s started so uni got a little distracting.  Also you guys seemed to love the hoodie thing so I figured that had you satisfied for a little while :P (if you haven’t seen it, @louthestarspeaker did some amazing art for that!)

No warnings for this chapter (wow, it’s been a while), unless you think Scott being a flirt needs a warning.

<<<Chapter 10

“So where are we going now?” Scott asked, changing the topic.

“Your call,” Other-Gordon shrugged, even though Scott was fairly sure he had a destination in mind from the way he was driving.  There was no hesitation about their route.  “We can take a break and get ourselves a bite to eat, or we can get the rest of the shopping done and find food after.”

Scott mentally ran through what they had left to get.  “How likely are the paparazzi to hound us for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“Most likely they’ll be asking around what we were buying for a while,” Other-Gordon told him.  “After that, it depends how interesting they find us, and if they can find us again.”

Scott drew the line at paparazzi squawking about his choice of underwear, and sighed.  “Might as well get those underpants now, then,” he said.

“If you’re sure,” Other-Gordon said.  He sounded dubious, but Scott glanced at him and saw concern, rather than disagreement.

“I’m sure,” he said firmly.  “Unless you’re about to tell me I’ll need fittings for that because if that’s the case then I’m sticking with what I’ve got.”

Other-Gordon laughed.  “Well, it’s lucky for all of us that there won’t be any fittings in the next shop, then,” he grinned.  “Underpants, socks and pyjamas are all in the same place.  We’re sticking with Scott’s usual haunts now,” he added.  “Less for the paparazzi to get their teeth into.”

Scott swallowed, thankful for the heads’ up.  Typically, sharp ginger eyes didn’t miss it.

“Say, we didn’t get to have that chat about a pattern yet, did we?” Other-Gordon commented.  Scott sighed.

“I should be fine,” he said.

“Scott.”  The disappointment was clear.  “I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

He was right but that didn’t stop Scott disliking it.

“If I’m expecting it, it’s fine,” he clarified, although Other-Gordon’s raised eyebrow said things were still as clear as mud.

“Expecting what.”  It wasn’t a question, but an expectation, and Scott sighed.

“People that know your brother,” he admitted.  “The paparazzi, being recognised in the streets… they’re one thing. That’s fine.”

“It’s people who know Scott,” Other-Gordon finished for him. Scott nodded.  “That explains Madeleine, but not George.  Jones…  We weren’t with him long enough for him to notice anything?”  Scott nodded again.  “So, George is the opposite?  We were with him too long?”

“Something like that,” Scott agreed.  “He saw when I slipped and tried to use the catalogue like I would at home.”

Other-Gordon made a noise that sounded a little like a suspicion had been confirmed.

“I don’t know for sure if it’ll help,” he said.  “But try to remember two things.”

Scott looked over at him again and resisted the urge to tell him to put both hands back on the wheel as one fist raised, a single finger extended.

“First, outside the airport no-one here knows Scott that well. Certainly not well enough to notice any small differences.  Even your voice might not be enough to raise most people’s suspicions, that’s mostly a precaution.  They’re not going to see one small slip and peg you as an imposter.  Scott doesn’t go shopping much, and he prefers going to Kansas or New York for the most part.  Auckland’s only for short day trips.  Anyone acting familiar outside of the airport is doing exactly that.  They’re acting.”  A second finger raised.  “Secondly, you’re Scott Tracy.  You might not be my Scott, but you’re still Scott Tracy.  Have a little faith in yourself.”

“Aren’t you watching me and logging all the differences between us?” Scott asked, and Other-Gordon rolled his eyes.  He did, thankfully, at least put his hand back on the wheel.

“That’s how I know you can pull this off,” he said.  “There are differences, but they’re ones I see because I’m family.  Tom, Dick and Harry aren’t going to notice a jot.”

“George did.”

“George saw you doing something weird,” Other-Gordon shrugged.  “No more catalogues, no more swishy fingers.”

“Swishy fingers?”

“You looked like you were conducting an orchestra,” Other-Gordon told him bluntly.

Okay, Scott could see that.

“Hold your head high and pretend you own the place,” the ginger advised. “We won’t be in this shop long.” He pulled into another car park, next to a sleek building advertising Outstanding Private Garments for the Gentleman. “But if that doesn’t work, remember four for Four,” he added.  “Three if you just need some space.”

Despite himself, Scott found himself grinning.  “Three for Three, four for Four,” he repeated.  “I can remember that.”  Associating the numbers with Thunderbirds was simple, but definitely effective.

“Whatever helps you remember,” Other-Gordon shrugged.  “But like I say, we shouldn’t be in here long.  Ready?”

In answer, Scott plucked at the lever in the side of the door, letting it open. Other-Gordon took the hint.

The inside of the shop was much more like Lemaires’, if less filled with customers, than the workshop store had been.  The class difference was painfully obvious, and Scott found himself wondering why rich meant stuffy here.  It was going to be a relief when he could shuck off Other-Scott’s clothes – still too smart for Scott’s liking even if it was clearly supposed to be casual wear – and put on something that fit his own definition of casual.

Not-Dad could scowl about undone buttons and rolled up sleeves all he wanted, but if Scott was going to suffer being in a different universe, he’d at least do so comfortably.

A salesman headed over to them, apparently drawn like a magnet to the sniff of money, and Scott contentedly stayed back as Other-Gordon repeated their spiel about a lost voice and explained what they were after.

You’re Scott Tracy.  It almost mirrored Not-Dad’s departing message remember you’re a Tracy, and Scott wondered if this was what the older man had meant.  He threw a grin in the salesman’s direction when the man looked at him, kept his back straight and hands – both of them – in his pockets.

Just doing that made him feel like he really did belong there.  It was a dangerous thought, and Scott quickly clarified to himself that by there he meant in the shop, and not in this universe, because he certainly did not belong in the latter and couldn’t wait to get home.

As the man led them down aisles, presumably towards the underwear Other-Gordon had specified, he caught a look of approval from the ginger.

It wasn’t much, just a brief curl of the corner of his mouth and a split second of eye contact out of the corner of his eye, but it lifted a weight Scott hadn’t noticed settling on his chest.

He could do this.  It was just some clothes.

Some clothes in a different universe and subsequently different fashions. Apparently this universe had not yet discovered his preferred style, or at least didn’t offer them for Gentlemen.  He pointedly ignored Other-Gordon watching him even as he nattered away to the salesman, no doubt keeping him distracted, and mentally ran through the options in front of him.

Comfort and practicality were both important, and it was with that in mind that he made his selection, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference too much when he was wearing them.  He didn’t know how often they did laundry, but in a vain hope he wouldn’t be in this universe for too long, he grabbed a week’s worth before turning back to the other men.

Other-Gordon’s face betrayed nothing about his selection, but he did obligingly prod the salesman into leading them to the socks.

Once again, fashion differences made themselves known as trainer and ankle socks seemed to be entirely absent from the choices, leaving Scott with the simple choice of what pattern he wanted on the calf-high woollen offerings. They reminded him more than a little of soccer socks, and he kept half an eye on Other-Gordon as a yellow pair found their way into the selection amongst the blues, whites and blacks.  To his frustration, the ginger seemed to have pulled on a poker face, no doubt anticipating that Scott would try and throw him again with colour selection.

Still, even that gave him some sort of sense of normalcy, which in turn kept him calm and focused on what they needed to do, and not what anyone else was thinking of him.  Other-Gordon keeping up a stream of chatter with the salesman – whose name Scott realised he still hadn’t caught – was enough to quell the last of the what-ifs, and even selecting a few pairs of pyjamas was much less of a trial than it could have been.

Even if Scott really wished he could just wear a tatty old t-shirt and shorts like he defaulted to at home.  Unfortunately, Gentlemen apparently wore sleeping shirts made of cotton with matching full-length trousers, much like the ones he’d woken up in earlier that morning, and once again had a limited selection that seemed to mostly vary in the shape of the collar and length of the arms.

Assuming that this universe’s Tracy Island tended towards the same temperatures as his home, he opted for mostly thinner, short-sleeved choices, and ignored the many patterned ones in favour of plain where he could.  Blue, yes, but there was also dark grey and another red and black chequered pattern he couldn’t bring himself not to choose.

Amber eyes narrowed at the final selection, Other-Gordon logging it and no doubt wracking his brain for anything that might be inspiring his now second choice for that combination.  Scott was mostly hopeful he wouldn’t figure it out, but the other man had proven himself to be extremely sharp.  There was always a chance he would.

“That seemed like it went better,” the ginger commented once the clothes were paid for and they were back in the car.  The engine purred, although the car was still in neutral and Other-Gordon was leaning back in the seat.  Scott hoped the fuel was as carbon neutral here as it was at home.

‘Went better’ wasn’t a hard thing to surmise, considering it was the first shop Scott hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in – or any real panic at all. “What helped?”

They had one shop left to go, by Scott’s estimation, and no doubt he was going to have to interact with strangers again for it.  Even at home, shoe shopping still required checking they fit, so he didn’t dare hope it would be avoidable here.  After the reprieve of the relatively easy experience he’d just had, he hoped he could hold it together long enough to get a couple of pairs of sneakers.

“No fittings,” he said dryly when Other-Gordon cleared his throat meaningfully. “It was easier to ignore everyone else.”

“That’s not going to be possible when we get the shoes,” Other-Gordon reminded him, and he sighed.

“I know,” he said.  “But I can handle it.”

“Do you want that café break now?”

Scott shook his head.  “Let’s get this over with,” he said.  “Putting it off won’t make it easier.”

“If you’re sure,” Other-Gordon replied, but there was no dubiousness in his tone this time.  Scott suspected he wasn’t the only one relieved at the success in the latest shop. The ginger shifted the car into drive and then they were rolling out onto the streets again.  “How many shoes are you thinking of?”

“Two should be enough,” Scott shrugged.  “Both sneakers.”

“No sandals?” Other-Gordon looked surprised.  Scott shook his head again.

“I won’t need those,” he said.  “Two pairs of sneakers will be plenty.”

“Well, I suppose you can always steal Scott’s shoes if you end up needing anything else,” the other man mused.  “You’ll need protective boots before you get in the hangars properly,” he added, “but we can’t get those here.”

“I have protective boots,” Scott reminded him.

“Only when Brains isn’t prodding at them,” Other-Gordon pointed out.  “I didn’t look at your boots that closely but they looked weird.”

“I’m almost certainly going to think the same thing about yours when I see them properly,” Scott shrugged.  “They’re protective enough.  Not quite as heavy duty as Virgil’s, but they’re still superior to steel caps.”

“Sounds useful,” Other-Gordon commented.  “We’re here.”

That had been a considerably shorter drive than any of the others. Scott made to get out of the car, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Scott got new sneakers recently,” Other-Gordon warned him.  “So the chaps here will remember him.”

The pressure that had lifted with the last shop made its return known with a vengeance, and Scott grit his teeth.  The hand on his arm tightened, grounding him, and he glanced over at Other-Gordon.

“Will it help if I go over the story with you now?” the ginger asked, serious eyes meeting his through the shades.  “Remember, they might remember him, but they don’t know him. Behave like you did in the last shop and everything will be fine.”

“The story?” Scott asked, taking a deep breath.

“That you like them enough to want more,” Other-Gordon clarified.  “As for your hand; you slipped over by the pool and grazed it.”

Scott hadn’t even considered his hand, and that he’d need to be using it.

“Scott, are you okay to go in or do you want that café break first?” Other-Gordon asked, seriousness laced all through the words.  Scott swallowed.  Instinct told him he was going to struggle, but his pride rebelled at the idea of running away.

His lack of an immediate answer seemed to be all Other-Gordon needed as he shoved the car back into drive.

“Wait-” Scott protested as he realised they were leaving.  Sharp amber eyes looked at him.

“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

Breakfast?  Scott blinked, caught out by the question.

“All you’ve had since you got here was Grandma’s apple pie,” Other-Gordon continued.  “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to feel mighty peckish, and I had a nice, leisurely breakfast after my swim this morning.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, Scott realised the churning in his stomach might not be entirely looming panic.  He didn’t actually remember breakfast.  There was that early morning call-out; he’d chugged a coffee during John’s briefing then gone to pluck the climber from the mountain, and then returned home with the intent of catching a couple more hours of sleep before properly facing the day.

Food, he realised, hadn’t featured at all.  He’d left One, somehow fallen through a universe collision, and then ended up here.

“Coffee,” he eventually answered.

“And?”

Scott shrugged.  “Early morning callout.  Bed was the plan when I got back.”

“Hold on a moment,” Other-Gordon said.  “You’re telling me that slice of apple pie’s the only thing you’ve eaten in… how long?”

“I ate dinner last night,” Scott defended himself.

“Gee.”  Other-Gordon shook his head.  “That settles it.  We’re going to a café and you’re going to eat.”

Scott didn’t have an argument for that one, and his stomach made its agreement known by grumbling at him suddenly.  Other-Gordon laughed.

“We’ve got all day,” he reminded him.  “We can take our time, remember?”

Scott sighed, but knew when he was beaten.  “You got a place in mind?”

“A few,” Other-Gordon said.  “Say, you don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“Nothing I’m aware of,” he assured him.

“In that case,” the ginger said.  “The Nine Bells has some private booths and a good menu.”

The name wasn’t familiar to Scott, but he hadn’t spent much time in Auckland for the sake of sight-seeing – or shopping – so he didn’t know if it didn’t exist in his universe or if he’d just never had cause to go near it.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, and Other-Gordon shot him a grin.

“They serve apple pie,” he promised, and Scott rolled his eyes.  Even he’d noticed Other-Scott’s fondness for the food, so it was no surprise at all that Other-Gordon had his favourite dessert pegged already.  “And their coffee’s good.”

“What about their tea?” Scott asked, keeping a straight face as he got the double-take reaction he was hoping for.

“You drink tea?” Other-Gordon asked.  Scott shrugged.

“Only in England.”

Other-Gordon huffed, and Scott let the threatening grin creep onto his face. “I should have seen that coming,” the ginger grumbled.  “You’re terrible.”

“I’m a big brother,” Scott shrugged.  “Can’t let the younger ones win all the time.”

“Definitely a Scott,” Other-Gordon muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s get some food in you.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Scott agreed.  Now that he was aware of the gnawing hunger, it clearly had no intentions of letting him forget about it.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, and Scott let himself properly look out at the streets as they drove through.  Much of it was unfamiliar to him; shop fronts were styled differently, and there were no holograms lighting up sales as they tried to entice customers to browse.  That was no doubt entirely due to the difference in technologies, although he was getting the impression that even society seemed to be subtly different at times.

If Other-John and Other-Brains couldn’t find a quick way to get him back and he was stuck here for a while until they figured it out – and they would figure it out, because Scott couldn’t afford to think otherwise – he was going to have a lot to learn even though he doubted he’d be leaving the island much, at least not as Scott Tracy.  If he was going to be living here for a while, he was definitely going to get involved in International Rescue somehow.

He couldn’t imagine sitting back and watching others do what was his job without stepping in to help, and inaction was never his style.

“Everything alright?” Other-Gordon asked suddenly.  “You’ve gone quiet.”

Scott shrugged.  “Just thinking,” he answered, not looking away from the passing buildings.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Scott rolled his eyes.  Some things transcended universes, apparently.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the ginger continued.  Scott wondered if he was worried he was spiralling again.

“Just about-” he cut himself off, remembering that even if they were in the car they were out in public – a public that didn’t know about International Rescue’s identity.  “The family business,” he hedged.

“Yours or ours?”

“Yours, mostly,” Scott admitted.  “Where I’ll fit in.”

“Dad won’t say no,” Other-Gordon assured him.  “It’s short-staffed for obvious reasons, but those don’t apply to you. I know the two of you aren’t seeing eye to eye right now, and I won’t lie – working out where you sit in the hierarchy is going to take a lot of compromise, mostly on your end – but if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well make yourself useful.”

It was the second time Other-Gordon had confidently said he’d be able to join their International Rescue, although Scott was well aware there’d be a lot of difficulty fitting in.

He’d been Commander of his International Rescue longer than this International Rescue had been operating.  But he didn’t know their technology, their limits and procedures. Even the jargon was different.

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” he said, and Other-Gordon laughed.

“No-one’s going to doubt that,” he promised.  “You don’t do well sitting around, do you?”

“Another shared trait?” Scott assumed dryly.  To his surprise, Other-Gordon shrugged.

“I think you’re worse for it,” he admitted.  Startled, Scott looked away from the passing buildings to regard Other-Gordon again.  “Scott doesn’t do well sitting around all the time, but that doesn’t stop him lounging for a few hours with the rest of us.”  Amber eyes glanced over at him.  “I get the feeling you’ve forgotten how to.”

That was getting dangerously close to Dad’s crash again, never mind the fact that Other-Gordon was right.  His own brothers had got on his case about it enough for Scott to know he hadn’t relaxed in years.  Not properly.

“I remember how,” he muttered, the words coming out more defensively than he’d intended.

“Something tells me you’re not going to be demonstrating that knowledge,” Other-Gordon challenged, once again right because he was entirely too sharp.  Scott knew he wouldn’t be able to relax at all until he was home and knew his brothers were all safe and well.  “I’m not going to stop you,” the ginger continued. “But don’t burn yourself out.”

“I won’t,” Scott promised.

Other-Gordon’s silence loudly proclaimed that he expected otherwise but knew better than to call him out on it.  Scott appreciated it; that was a heavy enough conversation for his liking.

There had been a lot of those on this shopping trip, despite him choosing Other-Gordon to avoid them.  It would have been so much worse if he’d come with anyone else.

Part of him wasn’t looking forwards to getting back, because then he’d have the whole island watching him again.  He also, he realised, needed to apologise to Other-Virgil for brushing him off so abruptly, even if he was glad he’d stood his ground against Not-Dad.

Dealing with Not-Dad on a regular basis was definitely going to be the hardest part of this universe.  Scott knew he was going to have to talk to the man, especially if he was going to join their International Rescue, but he looked just like Dad, and even now his chest hurt when he thought about it.

“We’re here,” Other-Gordon said, pulling into a car park in front of a large building that proclaimed The Nine Bells in a neat cursive.  It looked fancy, but then Other-Gordon had said they offered private booths, which Scott was well aware they’d need.

He followed the ginger into the building, where they were promptly greeted by a waitress.

“Good afternoon, sirs,” she chirped.  “A table for two?”  Her eyes were firmly fixed on him, and he knew he was wearing shades but she was pretty cute so he sent her a wink and a grin anyway.

She flushed red.  Good to know he still had it in another universe.

“A private booth, please,” Other-Gordon said, stepping forwards and – ow – onto Scott’s foot.  Well, if he wanted him to be himself, then he was going to flirt with the pretty girls, regardless of whether or not he could talk.

“Of course,” she stammered, still looking at him rather than the Tracy that was actually talking to her.  “This way.” Still bright red, and throwing glances at him over her shoulder, she slipped between the public tables until they came to a concealed privacy booth, no doubt for their richer customers. Scott supposed Tracys counted. She hovered as they both slid into seats, before placing menus in front of both of them – him first.  He thanked her with another grin, and got a nudge in the shin from Other-Gordon.

“Would you like a jug of water?” she asked him.  Other-Gordon jumped in with the affirmative, and she hurried off to get it.

“Must you flirt with the waiting staff?” the ginger asked after she was gone. Scott shrugged.

“She’s pretty,” he said.  Other-Gordon rolled his eyes.

“If it makes you happier,” he sighed, and Scott definitely heard the underlying relief there that something was cheering him up.

“I’ll take the small victories where I can get them,” he confirmed, pulling the menu down in front of him.  “I don’t suppose you’ll take her number for me?”

“Not under false pretences,” the other man retorted.  Scott scowled; he had a point.  Other-Gordon shook his head and grinned.  “At least you’re looking happier.”

“Until you stole my fun,” Scott grumbled, but he knew Other-Gordon was right. He couldn’t flirt seriously with anyone while he was pretending to be Other-Scott.

“Just choose something from the menu,” Other-Gordon told him.  “Several somethings, if this is really your first meal today.  Grandma will have my hide if you pass out on me.”

“I’m not going to pass out,” Scott protested, but he looked at the menu anyway.

Food, it seemed, was the same across universes.  It wasn’t much hassle to find something he liked – he’d never been a particularly picky eater, and from the amused looks on Other-Gordon’s face, the ginger could probably have ordered for him without even asking.

“The same?” he asked resignedly.

“Near enough,” Other-Gordon shrugged.  “Coffee?”

The waitress reappeared before Scott could give a verbal answer, so he nodded as she set the water and two glasses down on the table.

“Are you ready to order, sirs?” she asked, once again fixed on him as she withdrew a notebook from her apron and held a pencil up, poised to write.

Rolling his eyes, Other-Gordon placed the order for both of them.  She looked a little put out that Scott, for all his grinning, wasn’t actually saying a word to her, and clearly Other-Gordon wasn’t feeling like a generous enough wingman to tell her that he couldn’t talk.

She hovered for a moment longer after writing down the order, but Other-Gordon looked away from her in a clear dismissal, and Scott reluctantly followed suit, leaving her scurrying away a little disappointedly.

“Now I seem fickle,” Scott huffed once she was out of earshot. Other-Gordon looked amused, smirking in an annoying little brother manner.

“You’re telling me you’re not going to start smiling at the next pretty woman you see?” he asked.  Scott rolled his eyes.

“That’s not the point,” he denied.

“I disagree,” Other-Gordon retorted.  “Gee, you’d think they’d give the Olympic Champion the time of day, at least.”

“Not all the girls care about gold medals,” Scott smirked.  It was Other-Gordon’s turn to huff.

“They do when there’s no tall dark and handsome winking at them next to me,” he muttered.  “If there’s one thing that’s not so good about the job, it’s the secrecy.”

“It’s not worth the headache.”  That, Scott could say for certain.  “Trust me.”

“I’ll trust your grey hairs,” Other-Gordon agreed, and Scott scowled at him. He put his hands up.  “I promised not to ask questions and I won’t,” he said. “But if there’s anything you want to know, I’m available.”

“Here?” Scott asked, glancing around at the café.  The privacy booth at least meant he could talk, but he wasn’t so sure Not-Dad would approve of International Rescue being discussed there.

“Well, maybe not here,” Other-Gordon conceded.  “But any time.”

It was a comforting offer, especially after their first conversation where the man had physically and verbally cornered him and refused to let him near any of the Thunderbirds.

We’re on the same side.  The offer was an extension of that promise, and Scott nodded in acknowledgement.

“I still want that tour,” he said, and Other-Gordon laughed.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” he said.  “I’ll have to clear it with Dad, but I’m positive I can convince him.”

That would be the first test to see if Not-Dad was, as Other-Gordon believed, going to be willing to let him join if they couldn’t immediately find a way to get him home.  Scott really hoped Other-Gordon’s optimism was in the right place.

The younger man reached for the jug in the middle of the table and poured himself a glass before reaching for Scott’s.  He pushed it closer with a nod of thanks and watched as it filled up before taking a drink.  He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was until the liquid hit his throat, and before he’d realised it, the glass was empty.

Other-Gordon raised his own glass in a mimicry of a toast before taking his own draft.

“You’re not going to tell me the last drink you had was that tea you kept dropping, are you?” the ginger asked.  Scott shook his head.

“Tin-Tin gave me coffee while we talked,” he said, grabbing the glass and pouring himself another measure before throwing that back as well.

“How did that go?” Other-Gordon asked.  “Was it useful?”

“I think so,” Scott said, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand.  “Most of what we discussed were things you already knew.  Otherwise, it was mostly technology differences.”

“Did she have any theories?” the other man asked, taking another drink of his water.

Scott shook his head.

“She just said she’d take it to your Brains,” he shrugged.  “The others came back so we went back for the debrief.”

“Alan was mighty miffed with you then,” Other-Gordon commented.  Scott had noticed.  “I’m guessing he saw you two together?”

“We met him on the landing,” Scott confirmed.  “He didn’t seem happy.  Is there any particular reason he’s so…”  He trailed off, trying to find a word to describe Other-Alan’s attitude in a way that wasn’t blatantly insulting.

“So Alan?” Other-Gordon asked.  “Mostly it’s because he’s the youngest.  Your Alan’s not like that?”

Scott scoffed.  “If my Alan talked back like that he’d be grounded and he knows it.  He’s younger than yours, but I’m not letting him grow up thinking he can get his own way all the time.”

“Aw, Alan’s not so bad,” the ginger said, clearly defending his younger brother.  “Sure, he can be a bit of a pain, but he’s a little brother.  Fame went to his head a bit after he kept winning races, and you didn’t make the best first impression on him by punching Scott, or breaking Dad’s nose.”

Scott sighed.  “He wouldn’t tell me where my brothers were,” he explained.  “Of course, at that point neither of us knew about this multiverse thing.”  He eyed the younger man.  “But by that logic, I didn’t make the best first impression on you, either.”

“You got that right,” Other-Gordon admitted.  “You seemed too dangerous to let wander around, I’ll admit, but Grandma and Tin-Tin didn’t seem bothered by you and then Brains and John had their theory – which you near enough proved – and I figured I’d give you a chance, you know?”

“You interrogated me,” Scott corrected dryly.  The other man shrugged.

“Details,” he dismissed.  “You’re not so bad, you’re just out of your depth.  Can’t say I blame you.  I couldn’t say how I’d have reacted if it were me.”  He paused for a moment.  “How are you holding up?”

Scott huffed tiredly and ran a hand over his face, wincing when they snagged the shades he forgot he was wearing.

“Right now, I’m fine,” he said, his instincts rebelling against telling the truth – that the idea was enough to scare him, that he was terrified he couldn’t get home.  Worried how his family were taking his disappearance.  “Ask me again after it’s sunk in.”

“I’ll do that,” Other-Gordon promised, taking another drink from his glass. Amber eyes scanned him searchingly, and Scott met his gaze head-on, daring him to claim he wasn’t as fine as he was pretending.

If the ginger had noticed the façade, he didn’t comment.  Then again, it was at that moment the waitress returned with a platter of sandwiches.  At the sight and smell of them, Scott’s stomach growled loudly.  The waitress was too shy to giggle, but he saw her eyebrows raise and he sent her a slightly sheepish grin before picking up one from the pile and toasting her with it.

Other-Gordon kicked him in the shins again.  Scott ignored him.

“Your coffee will be ready in a moment,” she said, smiling at him with cheeks coloured a rosy blush.  “Is there anything else I can get you right now?”

Your number, Scott thought, but Other-Gordon studiously avoided any eye contact with him as he dismissed the girl – without asking for her number, or explaining why he wasn’t talking.  Little brothers were a nuisance whatever universe they were from, apparently.

Scott huffed at him once she was out of earshot and bit into the sandwich with a little more vigour than was strictly necessary.

Other-Gordon’s response was a mixture of exasperation and faint disapproval as he took his own pick from the platter to eat.  “I told you, you’re not who she thinks you are,” he reminded him. “You can send all the flirty looks you want, I’m not asking for her number for you.”

“I know,” Scott sighed, swallowing the mouthful.  “Oh, these are good.”

Other-Gordon grinned.  “I told you the food here would be.”

“You did,” Scott acknowledged, polishing off the first one and grabbing another.  He supposed that if he was going to be stuck in another universe for a while, at least there was good food.

The blushing waitress – whose name he never caught, but she didn’t offer it and Other-Gordon didn’t ask – kept coming back with more of their ordered food as they ate.  The ginger devoured just as much as he did, proving he hadn’t been lying about his own hunger, and conversation was mostly dropped in favour of sustenance.

By the time the final dregs of Scott’s coffee were drained from the cup, he estimated they must have been there at least an hour, if not more.  He still hadn’t figured out how to read the analogue dial on the watch, and was at loathe to ask while they were in public.

Still, he was conscious that there was still one shop left to go, and the sun’s steady march across the sky was unrelenting.  They only had so much time, a fact supported by the way Other-Gordon checked his own watch before giving him a considering look.

“There’s an hour left until the shops close,” the ginger told him.  “Do you want to give it another try, or should we head back to the island?”  Scott raised an eyebrow at him.  He was fairly sure the ginger knew what his answer was going to be.

Sure enough, he got a groan and a mutter about pushing yourself too hard, but Other-Gordon waved the waitress over for the bill without trying to change his mind.

Chapter 12>>>

[cuddlepilefics]

Snow Angel

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie/Little: Minho (age 4-5)

Caregiver: Stray Kids

 Noone’s POV.:

The Christmas holidays were officially over and the stores opened again. Running out of food, Stray Kids decided to let a game of rock paper scissors determine which member had to go grocery shopping today. None of them were very fond of having to go out at the moment. There might not have been any snow but the temperature was still below zero degrees. The choice fell on Minho and the second oldest cursed his luck. He complied anyways, bundling up in a thick coat to keep himself warm. The store wasn’t too far away, so he walked there. A short walk couldn’t hurt after days of just eating. The wind picked up, ruffling the young idols hair and forcing him to huddle deeper into the warmth of his coat. By the time he made it to the store, the first few snowflakes were floating down.

The dancer took his time at the store, not really wanting to exit the shelter and warmth of the building while it was still snowing. He kept texting his members to tell him when it would stop snowing, while he strolled the aisles. As soon as Chan texted him that the coast was clear, Minho headed towards the checkout. He zipped up his coat and slung the bags of groceries over his shoulders. Exiting the store, the dancer was met with an entirely different sight than before. The snow didn’t melt, it instead covered everything in a thick white layer. He couldn’t help his lips forming a small ‘o’, as he admired the changed scenery. With a smile and a little bounce in his step, Minho started his walk towards the dorm, enjoying the way the snow crunched under his feet. He giggled as he jumped into a larger pile of snow. Only then did he realize he was slowly slipping into headspace. Yes, Minho was a little. He had told his members about it and they had accepted him, doing their own research on it, despite Minho telling them he didn’t plan on regressing around them.

Feeling himself slowly slipping while being out in public alone, the dancer started to panic. He was fighting to stay big, at least till he made it home but it was getting harder with every step. When he was absolutely sure he wouldn’t be able to make it, he pulled out his phone, calling the only hyung he had. It didn’t take long for Chan to pick up. “H-Hyung?” – “What’s up, mate?” – “I-I feel weally, I mean really small Channie-hyung” – “Wait! You mean you’re slipping into headspace? Like… right now?” – “Sowwy hyungie, MinMin twied to stay big but thewe’s so much snow” – “Minho, stay right where you are, ok? Hyungie’s coming to get you. Just stay where you are.” And with that the leader ended the call. He had heard the lisp getting progressively stronger as he talked to Minho and when he heard the other giggle at the end, he was certain he had lost the fight and slipped fully into headspace. “Guys, Minho slipped into headspace. I’ll go run down the route to the store and pick him up, he has to be there somewhere between here and the store”, Chan yelled, putting on his coat and boots and dashing out of the dorm.

The other members were pretty stunned, heading out as well. They had no experience with taking care of a little and were really caught off guard because Minho told them he didn’t want to slip around someone. They took off running and soon caught up to a breathless Chan. They’re fast, fearing for the safety of their regressed and making it to the store in no time. Nowhere along the way had they seen any sign of the dancer. Still panting and out of breath, the leader ordered them to split up and search the area around the store and around the dorm, as well as walk the stretch in between again, slower and more attentive this time. While seven Stay Kids were worried out of their minds, the mentally youngest Stay Kid was having the time of his life. Minho had found a lawn next to their dorm building which was covered with a thick layer of snow. He put down his grocery bags at the edge of the sidewalk and made his way to the center of the lawn, throwing himself into the snow sprawled out like a starfish. After a while of just lying there giggling to himself, the little started moving his arms through the snow creating a snow angel. He got up to look at his art work and disappointedly had to admit that the long coat he was wearing had ruined the shape.

However, Minho didn’t cry, he had a better idea. He took off his coat and placed it over the groceries before giving his snow angel another try. The dancer kept making snow angels, never really satisfied with the way they turned out. Soon his thin sweatshirt and jeans were soaked through and there was barely any spot left to make another snow angel. That was when the two maknaes stumbled upon the coat and groceries on the sidewalk. Recognizing the coat, they repeatedly called their hyung’s name. Soon they saw a figure without a coat running towards them, which quickly clung to Seungmin’s side, hugging the young vocalist tight. “Hyung, what are you doing here. We were all so worried about you. Look at you! You’re soaked like a drowned puppy, not even wearing your coat. Are you trying to get sick?”, the second youngest scolded. The dancer flinched at the use of honorifics, pouting at his members with a wobbly bottom lip: “H-Hyungies mad?” The pair stood there dumbfounded at their hyung’s little voice and being referred to as hyungs by the physically older boy. The maknae was the first to shake off the shock. “Oh no MinMin. We’re not mad. We were just scared because we didn’t know where you were”, Jeongin assured, petting the little’s head. Seungmin nodded, feeling the boy at his side shiver. Now that he wasn’t running around anymore, the dancer realized just how cold his wet clothes actually were. “Let’s get you home, kitten, hm?”, Seungmin hummed, scooping the freezing little up who quickly cuddled into his member’s warmth. Minho rested his head on the vocalist’s shoulder, who pretended not to hear the teeth chattering right next to his ear while he carried the little back to the dorm. Jeongin collected the groceries and the little’s abandoned jacket, taking them back to the dorm as well while texting the groupchat that they found Minho and calling a panicking Chan.

The trio were the first to arrive at the dorm, the others coming in soon after. By the time Chan was there, the two maknaes had already convinced the dancer to remove his icy clothes and had prepared him a warm bath with lots of bubbles. While Jeongin stayed with the little and entertained him with a small rubber duck, Seungmin threw the clothes into the wash, hung up the coat to dry and stored away the groceries. The leader was still out of breath when he shrugged out of his coat and hurried to the bathroom to find a giggly little playing with their maknae. “Oh, thank god, Min, you’re ok”, he sighed breathlessly. “Hyungie ok? Face all wed”, the little giggled. “Of course, my face is red, I’ve been running around looking everywhere for you. What do you think ‘stay right where you are’ means?”, the leader scolded. Chewing on his bottom lip the dancer announced proudly: “Me made snow angel!” Chan chuckled at his cuteness, unable to stay mad. “Alright, just warm up. Do you maybe have some little stuff that we can prepare for you when you get out of your bath?” – “Me have pink box in closet”, Minho squealed, remembering his things and getting excited at the thought of being able to use them soon. Chan smiled and left the bathroom to hunt down the box his dongsaeng was talking about.

Sure enough, the oldest found it under piles of clothes and took it to the living room, setting up pencils and a coloring book on the coffee table, placing a small cat plushie onto the couch and filling the baby bottle he found with warm honey milk. The members were all gathered in the living room as well, curious to meet their groups little. About ten minutes later Minho waddled into the living room holding onto Jeongin’s hand. The maknae had helped him put on an oversized sweater, leggings and fluffy socks. Immediately getting shy at the attention he was receiving, the little hid behind Jeongin, causing the others to laugh at his antics. “Oh my gosh, he’s soo cute”, Felix squealed, getting slapped on the shoulder by Changbin who warned: “You’re scaring him.” Gathering his courage, Minho stepped out from behind the maknae and waved cutely at his ‘hyungies’. Then his eyes fell onto his little gear, all laid out nicely, and he waddled over to the couch to hug his plushie. “Min, I made you a bottle. Thought it could help warm you up some”, Chan explained. “You made Min milky?”, the little stammered, not quite believing it since he never had a caregiver and to this moment had believed he wouldn’t want a caregiver. That opinion changed pretty fast when a warm feeling of being cared for spread over his chest. “Milky always *hhuh-kchoo* - always makes MinMin sweepy *sniff*”, the little mumbled, refusing to look up at his friends and admiring his plushie instead. “Aww, is our MinMin catching a cold”, Hyunjin cooed. “Nuh-uh, Min no catch cold!” – “It’s okay Min. It’s only afternoon but if you get sleepy you can take a nap, alright?”, Chan comforted, sitting down on the couch. His dongsaeng nodded and crawled into the leader’s lap, cuddling his plushie while he allowed the other to feed him his bottle. The others stayed quiet, only sneaking a few pictures here and there since they didn’t want to disturb the little. When Minho finished the bottle, Chan took him back to his room, tucking him in for a nap as promised.

An hour later when Jisung walked past the room to get to his own room, he heard small whines coming through the door and decided to check on the little. As expected, he found the dancer awake, sitting on his bed. The rapper sat down next to him, booping the pouty little’s nose. “Hey there, kitten. Done napping?”, he smiled. “ouchie”, Minho whined and gave a small cough before pressing himself into the other’s side. The rapper frowned studying the dancer’s face: “Sweetie, what’s ouchie? Where are you hurting?” – “Head’s ouchie”, the little sniffed pitifully, prompting his friend to rest his palm against the little’s forehead. “Min, you have a fever”, Jisung cooed, “Should we go and look for Channie-hyung? He might have some medicine for you.” – “Nuh-uh, no wan medicine but wan Channie-hyung.” – “Ok let’s lo find him”, the rapper decided, bundling the little in his blanket and carrying him to the couch. “Guys, our little kitten here is sick, I have to find Chan-hyung”, he announced, placing Minho down in Felix’ lap, who was sitting on the couch playing video games but immediately dropped his controller to snuggle the little in his lap. “You stay with Lixxie, ok? I’ll go and get hyung”, Jisung ordered and gave the little a small kiss on the forehead before disappearing down the hallway.

“Hh’ktCHhsx! H’iKTsh! ’tsh! H-’khSHt’NGsT!” – “Oh dear. Bless. Our little snow angel really caught himself a cold”, the young Aussie cooed, grabbing a tissue to help the little clean himself up before pulling the blanket a bit tighter around the other dancer’s shoulders. He gently rocked the little in his arms, mumbling sweet nothings in a low voice till he could hear soft congested snores coming from the blanket bundle. The boy was also quick to shush his members when they came in to check on their sick friend. Chan carefully felt for a fever doing his best not to wake the little because sleep was always the best medicine when someone was sick. “Lix, keep Minho asleep for as long as possible, ok? I’ll fetch some medicine for him to have when he wakes up but for now I think rest and warmth is what he needs the most”, the leader hummed and went to the bathroom to roam their medicine cabinet. The entire group was gathered in the living room after overhearing Jisung telling Chan about Minho being sick. Glancing around the room in search of something he could busy himself with, Changbin’s eyes landed on the little’s box with little gear or more accurately on a sippy cup printed with a bunch of cats. The rapper picked up the cup and went to the kitchen washing it out before filling it up with cool water.

Chan’s plan of letting the little rest for a while longer failed when Minho startled himself awake by sneezing not even five minutes later. “hh’txCHH’ hh’txCHH’uh!” Felix was quick to comfort the startled little by stroking his messy hair, while the leader crouched next to the couch. “Hey kitten, I heard you weren’t feeling so great?”, the oldest whispered sympathetically. The dancer shook his head, flapping the blanket around a bit as he tried to free his arms so that he could make grabby hands at the older. Cooing the leader took him into his arms and sat down next to Felix. “Hyungie, icky!”, Minho cried, rubbing his face against his hyung’s shoulder. “Oh, I know sweetie. Let’s get some medicine into you.” – “Nuh-uh, medicine icky too.”, he whined into the thick material of Chan’s sweater, muffling a weak “N’gsCH!” against the leader’s shoulder. That’s where Jeongin stepped in. The maknae had already measured out an adequate amount of medicine, holding the small plastic cup. “It’s ok, MinMin. It’s doesn’t taste to great but it will make you feel soo much better and look! Binnie-hyung already has some water for you to wash the taste away. That’s a cute sippy you have there”, he praised and stroked the little’s cheek to make him raise his head from Chan’s shoulder. Not being able to resist the maknae’s cute foxy smile, the dancer accepted the medicine and Changbin hurried to replace the small measuring cup with the teat of the little’s sippy.

Minho soon realized how good the cool liquid felt on his swollen throat and greedily drank it down completely, making his members laugh. At least the wouldn’t have to worry about him staying hydrated. Chan stayed on the couch, rocking the little just like Felix had done before, while the rest of the members gathered pillows, blankets and plushies, setting up camp in the living room. Changbin refilled the sippy cup before getting comfortable as when. When everyone had settled they turned on the TV, allowing Minho to choose his favorite cartoon. They watched cartoons for hours, not complaining once. This was not how they had imagined their first time caring for ‘MinMin’ but they were in total awe at their regressed member. Minho realized something too. All these years that he had been regressing in secrecy, he had told himself that he didn’t want a caregiver. Even when his friends had offered to help him out, he had turned them down, only to involuntarily regress in front of them and to enjoy the love and attention they were giving his little self. It’s safe to say, he didn’t mind being sick and snuggled all that much.

[myhusbandsasemni]

Rescuing Ash - Underground Hero: Part 2

Part one here

Idea generated as a continuation of @morallygreyprompts writing Here

Whump warning: General description of injuries from torture

WC: 2119

......................

Underground was more nervous for this mission than he had ever been before. He knew Eldar by reputation and had once prayed that he would never have to face him. It was quite funny that Underground was willingly going up against a man he had once feared. He was even fairly certain that the plan would work. Yes, he was nervous, but not for his own sake. He was nervous about seeing the true state that Ash would be in. 

Underground silently watched Justin walk down the road after getting out of his car. The villain looked to be alone, but that was because Underground, Andrew, and Elliot were hiding. Underground didn’t know where the other two heroes were in the tangle of buildings and trees, but all he would have to do was ask Foxfire and she’d let him know. Speaking of which.

|Eldar is here,| the blue blob said from where she was wrapped around his chest. Well, she didn’t really speak. It was more like sending vibrations through your body so they would echo in your ear and say the words she wanted you to hear. It was quite like having someone speaking to you from inside your own head. 

Underground reached up to his mask, muting it so his voice wouldn’t be thrown outside the material covering his face. “How many men does he have with him?” Underground asked as he prowled through the trees on silent feet.

|I’m counting 12.|

“We can take twelve.”

|We can, but this is about saving Ash,| Foxfire replied, somehow giving the impression of scrolling through camera feeds as she spoke. 

“Of course,” Underground said seriously. “No way am I losing sight of that, love.”

Foxfire burbled in her form of a giggle. |Alright. If you approach from around that lamp there,| she said, circling the post on the screen inside the mask, |And then go to the left a little that should give you the best approach.|

“Thanks,” Underground said softly as he followed the suggested route. He crouched beside a concrete barrier, listening intently for the conversation happening on the bridge. Foxfire clipped one of the surveillance camera feeds into the mask and Underground watched as Justin fidgeted nervously, several dark suited men coming through the darkness towards him. Two of them grabbed him by either arm and forcefully led him across the bridge and into the darkness. Underground jumped over the barrier smoothly and followed. He stopped again when Foxfire found him a good place to hide and watch. There were no cameras covering this part of the bridge, so Foxfire dropped a small piece of her gooey flesh so it could roll along the ground and see what it could see. She clipped the footage from the small blue blob to Underground. It was hard to follow as the blob would roll and the perspective was subject to change, but Underground had been working with his partner for so long that he found it easy to follow along with the rolling. 

Several black vehicles were parked on the side of the road, under a thick growth of pines. Justin was forced to stand in front of them. He rubbed his arm nervously as a door of one of the cars opened. 

Eldar stepped out of the car with a grin and nodded to the villain. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” the demonic man said with a mocking tone. “You’ve always been quite cowardly. I was actually surprised it took you so long to go hide behind one of those heroes.”

Justin glanced down and nodded. Underground studied his pale face for a moment before turning his attention to Eldar again. Eldar grinned, putting his hands behind his back. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you fight,” Eldar said as he circled Justin, his footsteps silent on the gravel. Justin shuddered.

“How about I cut you a deal,” the demonic man grinned, stopping behind Justin menacingly, one hand on the lesser villain’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you that your sidekick is in the empty water cistern over in the warehouse district.”

Eldar removed his hand from Justin’s shoulder to pull out a small remote and then put his arm around Justin’s shoulders. He clicked the button with a sadistic chuckle. “And this button just opened up a channel for the cistern to start filling with water.”

Justin’s eyes widened and his hand shot out to try and grab the remote. Eldar danced away, tsking. “None of that. After all, you only have so much time to fight off my men before you can dash off to save your beloved sidekick.”

The men around the cars had circled up menacingly and Justin had a wild panic in his eye as he spun around, trying to see them all at once. Underground tensed up, ready to dash out. Before he did, Andrew and Elliot appeared from out of nowhere and immediately knocked down man after man, having surprise on their side. 

With a sigh of relief, he left it to their capable hands and snuck out back across the bridge, Foxfire having already pulled up the map of the warehouse district. He wasn’t big on vehicles, but he jumped into Justin’s car, which had the keys left inside just in case someone needed to use it in an instant. Underground started it up and raced off down the roads, Foxfire in his ear giving him extra directions. The two tried to hide their nervousness, as there was a large possibility that Ash was already dead.

Underground slammed to a stop outside the cistern. He didn’t even bother to turn the car off as he jumped out and ran up the sides of the concrete container. He found a door at the top that he ripped open, glad to find it unlocked. As he rushed down, he could hear the sounds of rushing water echoing up the dark staircase. He broke out onto long walkways and slammed against a railway due to his momentum when he stopped to look down. Water was indeed filling the cistern through a modified opening and someone was tied to a fairly tall step ladder of some kind. Though the figure was tied about eight feet up, the water was already to his middle. Underground studied the drop for a moment before lifting himself over the railing and dove into the cold water. Due to the suit that covered his top and disappeared under his cargo pants and boots, he didn’t feel the cold except for on the back of his head and where the water soaked through his boots and socks. 

He winced as he felt the mask seal to his face tighter but pushed up through the water and the currents, coming up fairly near to the young man who had a bag over his head and ropes twisted around his already soaked body. 

Foxfire lit his work with a blue glow from her own body and unmuted his mask as he said, “Ash, I’m here to rescue you.”

He put a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder, finding footing on the step ladder for a moment before pulling out a knife and cutting the ropes free. 

Ash flinched under every touch, but leaned forward onto Underground as the bindings were released. Underground hoisted the young man higher out of the water before looking around for a way out.

|Grapple?| Foxfire suggested.

“Yeah,” Underground muttered, reaching into a pocket on his pants to pull out the grapple in question. The gun was probably too wet to use, but with an impressive throw he got it up over the railing. He pulled Ash around himself to his back. Ash draped his arms across Underground's shoulders, but it was obvious he was too tired to hold himself on or to pull the hood off his head. Foxfire took care of it, though, sticking onto him and acting as a bit of a harness between Ash and Underground.

Underground hauled all three of them up the rope, panting and berating himself for eating so much stir fry earlier. He would never bemoan a victim’s weight, of course. Most of them were much too light for his tastes and Ash was definitely no exception. 

He pulled over the rail and grabbed the grapple, stuffing it back into his pocket before putting his hands under Ash to support his weight as he climbed back up the stairs.

“Signal Andrew, please, Foxfire,” Underground said. 

Foxfire bubbled and did as he asked with a small pulsing light from within. Underground got out of the cistern and scrambled down the side. He left the car where it was and started walking through back streets and alleyways to one of his nearby hideouts. Foxfire would let Andrew know where they were supposed to meet. 

Underground slipped into the house through a side door and closed it with his foot. He went to the couch and carefully deposited Ash there. Ash was still conscious, though shaking badly from the cold and exertion. Underground pulled the bag off gently, wincing behind his mask at the wounds in the young man’s face. 

“I’m Underground,” the hero said warmly, quickly grabbing the blankets folded on top of the couch to wrap around the poor man. “Justin will be coming here very soon. You're safe. Is it alright if I clean some of your wounds?”

Ash stared at him with half vacant eyes. He blinked twice before he seemed to register what had been said. He nodded very slowly and Underground grabbed a medkit from under the couch. He didn’t start with the face, as he didn’t want to spook the young man. He carefully pushed back Ash’s sleeves and gritted his teeth.

“Can you pull your shirt off?” Underground asked gently. Ash tried to, but didn’t get very far, so Underground had to help. There were all kinds of markings across Ash’s pale skin. Slashes, punctures, bruises, burns. Most all of them were healed to various degrees and the newer wounds that looked like they had occurred yesterday had stopped bleeding. If Ash weren’t so swollen from bruising, Underground was sure he’d be able to easily count the young man’s ribs. He was dressing the multitude of wounds on Ash’s arms and upper body when there was a knock on the door. 

Underground put the roll of gauze down and went to the door. Foxfire cheerfully announced to him that it was the heroes and Justin. Underground pulled open the door to let them in. Justin pushed past Underground and slid to his knees in front of his sidekick. 

Ash looked up at the man from his raw hands and froze, tears welling up in his eyes when he saw Justin.

“Ash. I’m so-” Justin tried to say but was cut off when Ash threw himself forward with a cry that was half pain and half absolute relief.

Justin hugged him back, crying into his sidekick’s matted hair and rocking back and forth. Underground watched for a moment before turning and going into the small kitchen to get some glasses of juice. He came back with the juice to find Justin still holding Ash, but now looking at all of his wounds with a horrified expression.

“I’m fine,” Ash said softly, trying to pull the blanket up and hide the old and new scars and wounds. 

“No you’re not,” Underground said, passing both Justin and Ash a cup of juice. “I’ll finish cleaning the bigger wounds, if that’s alright.”

Justin nodded and sat on the couch beside Ash. The villain helped his sidekick drink the juice as Andrew and Elliot sat down on some of the other chairs. 

Underground finished with Ash’s torso and sighed. “Alright, I wanted to clean some of these before I took you to the hospital, but I’ve put it off for as long as I could.”

Justin paled slightly. “You’re just going to take him to a hospital!?”

Underground nodded. “I know you don’t have the crew to have good medics anymore. I’ll be taking him to some doctors I would trust with anyone’s lives and I’ll pay for it. I’ll even make sure you can be there with him.”

Justin bit his lip and glanced at Ash, but Ash was completely out of it at this point having gotten something into his stomach and some small pain medication on board. Justin looked back to Underground and nodded.

Underground picked Ash up carefully, formally thanked Andrew and Elliot for their help and opened the front door to disappear into the night with Justin, the band around his chest glowing ever so slightly as if filled with pride. 

Underground Hero Taglist: @doubi-ixi @my-dump-of-whump @thethistlegirl

[playitaagain]

a home together || Mayward

Happy (late) Birthday @thistreasurehunter! I hope you enjoy :) This definitely got away from me a bit. 

Warning: smut, sex, porn, but mostly fluff. 

Summery: Pope is going to graduate school in Boston. JJ and Pope take a few days during the summer to go apartment hunting and end up in New Hampshire to explore. (read on ao3)

Author’s Note: This is 10k guys. I also haven’t written smut in ages so sorry if it is terrible. 

18+ only please

Pope smiles when he sees JJ sleeping soundly on the pull out. The other is snoring softly, arms hugging the pillow in replacement of Pope, who had snuck out of bed only a few minutes ago to start getting ready. He shifts a bit in his sleep, frowns when he pulls the pillow closer like he knows it isn’t Pope sleeping next to him. 

JJ’s blond hair is falling over his eyes and Pope reaches forward as he sits on the edge of the bed, lets his fingers brush through the stands and touch them behind his ear as best he can. The hair is long but not that long and it falls back instantly only for Pope to brush it again. He lets his hand linger this time, leaning forward to press a kiss to JJ’s forehead. “J, it’s time to wake up,” Pope whispers. The other grumbles a bit, shifting so he can tuck his head into the pillow, block out the light starting to stream in through the window. “Baby, we have to get on the road.”

“Few more minutes,” JJ mumbles, voice muffled into the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to make a grab for his blanket and tug it over his head. Pope simply rolls his eyes at the other, goes to reach forward so he can tug the covers off and hopefully coax his boyfriend out to the car. 

“I just need you to brush your teeth and then you can sleep in the car,” Pope explains, voice soft. They had already planned out the trip and it had started last night with Pope going to sleep early so he could be up early to drive. JJ wasn’t a morning person and had to work late last night so Pope figured it would be easier if he was alert enough so JJ could catch at least a few more hours. 

“Don’t wanna,” JJ whines. Pope takes the opportunity to tug the blanket from over his head, frowning when he sees JJ has stuffed his head under the pillow. This isn’t the first time this has happened and Pope expects it won’t be the last. “Sleep now.” 

“Come on,” Pope sighs, reaches forward to tug the pillow from his hands. The other is obviously pretty tired because he doesn’t even put up a fight when Pope pulls the pillow away, tossing it to the other side of the bed. “I’ll help you get ready.” 

“But-“ 

“Up.” JJ doesn’t argue as Pope grabs his hands and pulls him into a sitting position. The other grumbles, obviously annoyed, but swings his legs over the edge of the bed, allowing Pope to pull him to his feet. Even though Pope expects it, he still stumbles backwards when JJ collapses into his open arms, head instantly going to nuzzle his neck as Pope wraps his arms around his waist. Pope is quick to hurry toward the bathroom, knowing the other has actually fallen asleep in this position before. 

“Come on. I’m not stopping in an hour for you to use the bathroom. I’ll help with your teeth when your done,” Pope says, moving to place JJ’s hand against the sink as he untangles himself from the other. JJ grumbles, but doesn’t waste time as he drops his pants, Pope rolling his eyes as he turns. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen,” JJ mumbles in his tired state. Pope merely rolls his eyes, not even bothering with a response as he waits for the other to finish. At the sound of the sink, he turns around to find JJ standing in front, eyes partially closed as he sways a bit. Pope hurries up behind him, lets the other press his back to his chest and starts to get his tooth brush ready. Once it’s ready, he holds it out for the other to take. “Too tired.” 

“When I said I’d help, I didn’t mean brush your teeth. I just meant helping you stand,” Pope explains, but doesn’t even bother as he jabs the toothbrush into JJ’s mouth. The other frowns, hand reaching up to wrap around Pope’s, moving the brush gently with him. 

After JJ spits, he leans all of his weight back on Pope, eyes closed. “Sleep yet?”

“Almost,” Pope answers, leading the other back out to the living room. He sits JJ on the bed, going over to grab the clothes they laid out the night before. He doesn’t bother getting JJ to do this alone, simply tugs the other’s shirt off and replaces it with a new one before he tugs the other up and makes him step out of his pants. 

“Oh, trying to get in my pants,” JJ snickers, dropping both his shorts and boxers in a single sweep. Pope shakes his head at the other, helping JJ get one foot and then the other into his boxers and then his shorts. Pope lets him sit while he does his shoes and socks without complaint, but he’s pretty sure it’s because the other is snoring right now. 

“JJ,” Pope says, sighs when he realizes the other is slouched over and asleep again. Pope leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead again, brush the blond hair out of his eyes. “Lets get you to the car.” It seems to wake JJ up enough as he wraps his arms around Pope’s neck, lets the other lead him outside. 

“I’m tired.” 

“I know. You can go back to sleep,” Pope smiles, makes sure the seat belt is clicked into place before he arranges a variety of pillows around the other. The second the door closes, JJ shifts, lets his head fall against it as Pope hops into the other side. “Night, babe.” 

“Night, love,” JJ replies, half asleep as he curls his legs up under him, pillow hugged to his chest. Pope smile fondly as he starts the car. 

——————————

JJ wakes up slowly, uncurling his legs to stretch out in front of him, pins and needles making his muscles twitch. He stretches his arms over his head, a yawn leaving his lips, as his hands connect with the roof of the car. The soft sunlight is blinding as he blinks open his eyes, closing them after a second when he decides the light is too bright. 

“Here,” Pope says, something tapping JJ’s shoulder. “I grabbed your sunglasses for you.” JJ makes a grab for them before he blindly slips them on his nose, opening his eyes gradually. It’s still blinding, but he blinks a few times until to adjusts and turns his attention to the other. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, voice still gravely with sleep. He clears his throat and goes to rub at his eyes. “How far are we?” The highway is stretching out before them and the signs aren’t giving their location away. 

“We’re in Maryland,” Pope answers, eyes trained on the road. He looks tired and concentrated and JJ feels bad he hadn’t woken up earlier to take over the driving. He knows Pope doesn’t prefer highway driving and JJ was used to it after years of driving to visit the other at school. “How late did you get home last night?” 

JJ thinks back for a moment, mind still catching up from his nap in the car. “Around 3. The asshole who was supposed to close bailed and it was a shit show.” The bar had been a mess and the assholes on figure 8 didn’t have any need to return their glasses to the bar when they finished. JJ found them in the craziest places last night, including a few touched under tables and one in the coat check. 

“No wonder you were so out of it this morning,” Pope comments, squinting as he leans forward. JJ doesn’t even remember much of this morning but he knows they were leaving at 6 so he didn’t get much sleep before they left. It didn’t help that he hadn’t fallen asleep right away either. “I had to brush your teeth for you.” JJ laughs at that, shaking his head at the thought. 

“Well, thanks for that,” he smiles. “Do you want me to take over? I know the route pretty well by now.” He watches the way Pope’s shoulders seem to relax at the idea and the other nods, glancing at the gps so he can figure out where they are. “Maybe we can stop for a late breakfast. I’m starving.” 

Pope hums in answer and silence falls between them as they both look out for street signs. JJ spots one that has a McDonald’s and points it out, watching as Pope carefully changes lanes to pull off the road. 

They go through the drive through and find a nice shaded spot around the side of the building. JJ hands Pope his food and starts to chow down on his own, trying to figure out when he ate last. He can’t even remember having more than a few stray fries last night. It had been so busy his break had ended before it had even started. 

“How has the drive been?” JJ asks. 

“Not bad,” Pope comments. “It’s gone pretty fast, but I like this book.” JJ smiles, glancing at the radio to see which book he’s talking about. He hasn’t read it but he knows Pope has read it a few times. It’s his go to when he needs to relax and he often listens to it when they have long drives. 

They eat in relative silence after that and JJ feels better after they eat. He stretches his arms over his head, tugs the door open and announces that he is going to use the bathroom quickly before they leave. Pope nods, cleaning up his own food and going to toss it in the trash. They switch when JJ comes out, hopping into the driver’s seat as Pope goes in to use the bathroom next. 

JJ starts the car as Pope slams the door closed. He can tell Pope is better as he sinks into the passenger's seat, hugs the pillow to his chest. “Ready to go?” He asks, turning so he can glance at JJ. 

“Almost,” JJ smiles, leaning over. He connects their lips in a slow kiss, one filled with hope and promise that he hopes exudes all the love he feels for this man. When he pulls away, they both have a goofy smile on their lips. “Now I’m good.” 

Pope laughs, eyes bright as JJ pulls out of the parking lot. 

————————-

“Holy shit,” JJ exclaims as he collapses on the king size bed, rolls around a bit as he does so. “This is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on.” It was a far cry from his lumpy bed at the chateau or the pull out that he crashes on when Kie was over. 

Pope simply laughs, falling onto the bed next to him. “It is comfortable,” he comments, kicking his shoes off and shifting up the bed a bit. JJ stretches his arms out, flapping them around like you would when making a snow angel until he settles again with a sigh. 

“Dude, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” By this, JJ means the short little vacation they’re using to find an apartment so they can move in together in a few short weeks. Pope was starting graduate school in the fall and JJ already applied to a few jobs around town and had even gotten a few bites on his resume. They weren’t exactly what he wanted, but would do the trick until he could find a better job. 

This was also their first official vacation. JJ has never been on vacation before and visiting Pope out at school definitely didn’t count as a vacation. Plus, this was their first vacation together. They’ve been together for almost five years and they’ve been saving pretty much ever since. It didn’t matter if it was $5 or $20 at a time, but they each had a separate place for travel money and they were finally able to break into it. That’s how they could afford such a nice room. 

“Hopefully we find a good place,” Pope comments, turning so he can catch JJ’s eye. JJ shoots him a smile and nods. They’ve talked a little about what they want but also know they can’t be picky. The rent is crazy in Boston and barely lower in the surrounding cities and towns. They were going for something cheap, but still nice. “We have the first appointment tomorrow at 10 and then we can explore a bit and head to our next two at 2.” 

JJ nods, smirk pulling up his lips as he flips over, pushes himself up to crawl over Pope. “So, that means we have all afternoon for ourselves?” JJ wiggles his eyebrows and Pope laughs, arms moving to wrap around JJ’s neck. 

“Whatever shall we do,” Pope comments, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

JJ simply leans forward to connect their lips, happy when Pope instantly lets his mouth fall open, welcoming JJ’s tongue to deepen the kiss. 

—————————

Pope usually wakes up first, even without his alarm. He isn’t surprised this morning when he rolls over and finds he has another hour before his alarm even goes off. He’s been waking up pretty early for work the last few weeks and he felt surprisingly rested after the long drive yesterday but JJ wore him out pretty well the night before. 

The bed is warm as he rolls over to try and fall back asleep, JJ’s arm pulling him closer. It doesn’t seem to work though, because sleep won’t take him again and he ends up just rolling around a bit before JJ’s blue eyes flutter open. “Stop movin,” he mutters, voice sleep heavy as he closes his eyes again, curls up against Pope. Pope winds his arm around JJ’s waist, pulls him closer and lets JJ’s steady breathing fill his senses. 

It doesn’t help him fall asleep but his alarm goes off sooner than he expected. 

The sound has JJ shooting up in bed, head shifting back and forth as he tries to find the culprit. Pope leans over to turn his alarm off, watching as JJ’s shoulders relax and he sinks back down into the bed. Pope leans over to press a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.” JJ merely hums as Pope shuffles out of the bed. 

It’s only half an hour later when Pope leans forward to shake JJ awake, watching as the other flutters his blue eyes open. Pope remembers a time when JJ used to always wake in a panic, dreams haunting his tired brain most nights. It had taken a long time for him to get to this point and Pope’s heart flutters as he watches the other rub at his eyes and push himself up so he’s sitting criss cross in front of Pope. 

“Mornin’,” he mumbles and Pope smiles, leans forward to press their lips together in a quick kiss. JJ isn’t having any of that though and reaches a hand up to wrap around Pope’s neck, pulls him closer until they meet in the middle. 

JJ kisses are lazy and tired, fingers dancing across his chest so he can wrap both of his arms around Pope’s neck. He leans back slowly, taking Pope with him so the other is hovering over him. 

“We have to leave soon. I want to grab breakfast before we go,” Pope explains, only pulling a hair away from the other. JJ pouts at his words, leaning up to connect their lips again. Pope indulges him for a moment before he pulls away, giving JJ a serious look. 

“But I want you to fuck me,” he whines and Pope chokes on his breath. He doesn’t know why JJ’s blunt words still surprise him, but they do. 

“We don’t have time now, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while tonight,” Pope replies after his shock disappears. He leans forward to press a long and languid kiss to JJ’s lips, a promise of a night that will be worth the wait. 

“But you can’t just kiss me like that and not fuck me.” 

“I’m pretty sure I just did.” At that, he pulls away completely, a soft laugh leaving his lips when JJ crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. Pope simply shakes his head, patting JJ’s hip a few times before he goes to rummage through the other’s bag. He tosses the clothes onto the bed, noting he hasn’t moved an inch. 

Pope rolls his eyes, but climbs back on the bed again, a leg on either side of JJ’s hips. He leans forward, lets his lips hover for a moment as he glances at JJ’s blue eyes, letting them flick down to his lips again before he connects them. He pulls back just as JJ’s hands start to wander, teasing. “I promise if you get up now, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Pope promises, voice as seductive and lust filled as he can possibly make it. 

JJ only takes a moment to process the words, eye blues wide in shock as he searches Pope’s face. It is pretty unusual for Pope to be the one making promises like that, but this week was special. JJ seems to realize he’s serious then and Pope’s never seen the other get out of bed so fast. It nearly knocks Pope off in the process. 

Pope laughs as JJ hurries around the room, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he pulls on a clean pair of pants in the process. The toothbrush nearly flicks out of his mouth when he pulls the shirt on, grabbing the brush so he can actually scrub his teeth as he hurries back to the bathroom. 

JJ is standing in front of him only a few minutes later, cheeky smile on his lips. “You better keep up your end of the promise.” Pope can only laugh as he shuffles off the bed so they can head down to breakfast together. 

————————-

The apartment is small, but JJ and Pope have always been able to work in small spaces. JJ had visited Pope on countless occasions at school and not only were the rooms small, but they both managed to squeeze in the twin size bed more times than they can count. 

The space is a small third floor one bedroom apartment just outside of the city. The owner said it’s a great spot for young people, right on the T and only a short walk from all the nightlife that happened. JJ and Pope didn’t care much for nightlife. They both had to focus on work and Pope had school on top of that. They wouldn’t mind a good bar or two in walking distance though so it was good to know. Plus, it came with one parking spot, which is all they needed at the moment. 

“What made you guys move?” The owner, a kind looking man in his mid fifties, asks, eyes curious. The pair glance at each other and exchange a smile before they turn to the kind man in front of him. Pope finds the owner may be one of the reasons this apartment could work. It was good to have someone nice who didn’t seem to have a problem with their lifestyle (which they didn’t outright disclose but thought it was obvious by the lack of a second bedroom). 

“We wanted a fresh start,” Pope answers. The man nods and Pope sees the understanding flash in his eyes at the words. 

“Well, I hope this move is just what you're looking for.” The owner pauses as he glances out the window, moving to tug the curtain open. “There’s  a park just down the street as well. It’s a nice mile around a small pond. Utilities are separate but WiFi and cable are included in rent. We have a shared washer, dryer in the basement which can also be used for storage if you need it.” 

JJ nods, walking around the small area. Pope watches him closely as he looks in cabinets and tugs back the shower curtain. He stops to look out the window a bit and Pope knows the other is trying to get a feel of what it would be like to live in this space. This was going to be their first home together and JJ wants it to be perfect. Pope does too, but he finds he’s a bit more worried about the technicalities of renting but he figures that is why they work together. 

“Is it close to the beach?” JJ asks. The other had voiced how important a beach was to him and Pope understood. The ocean had always been JJ’s safe space. 

“I’d say about half an hour depending on traffic. There are a few great beaches about the same distance away,” he explains. JJ nods, going back to puttering around. 

“Are you both in school? I usually get a lot of students. It’s unusual for me to have this place available this late but the last tenants left this place a mess.” 

“I’m going to school in the fall but JJ is going to start working then.” The man nods and starts chatting about his own life a bit to fill the silence that settles in the room as JJ looks around. Pope gets a few more details about the place, including information about the neighborhood and the other tenants before JJ gives him a nod and Pope knows he’s ready to go. 

“This has been very helpful. Thanks for showing us around.” 

“If you're interested, I’d love to have you guys.”

“When do you need to know by?” 

“I’d give it till the end of the week. I have a few others interested though,” he explains and Pope nods, reaching out to shake his hand, JJ follows suit as the two head down the stairs and out of the building. 

“I like it,” JJ says the second they step outside. Pope laughs, reaching to grab at the other’s hand as they walk down the street. They want to look around a bit before they head out and the park really is close because it comes into view as they turn the corner. 

“I did too, but we have five other places to see before we decide,” Pope explains and JJ frowns. It’s only a moment though, because the park comes into view and the other surges forward, pulling Pope with him as he comes to a stop just in front of the small body of water.

The park is pretty crowded, joggers running along the edge and couples lining the grass and benches along the water. It looks like a nice little date spot and a great place to unwind after a long day and Pope adds that to the pro column. JJ seems excited too as he bounces on his toes, points out a swan sitting in the middle of the body of water. 

“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” Pope suggests, nodding his head toward the trail. JJ nods excitedly and the two fall into step as they enter a small wooden area, trails shooting out in different directions. They decide to stay on the main one, but only after JJ pouts and complains that Pope has no sense of adventure. 

—————————

The next two places aren’t amazing. The single bedroom in a suburb of Boston is a little smaller than they both expected and the second place is in a shitty area and further than they both expected from Pope’s school. They end up declining both at the initial meeting and hope for some better prospects tomorrow. 

The long day has both men dragging their feet as they find a restaurant in town. It’s one Pope is familiar with from his time in undergrad and JJ doesn’t seem to care where they go because he’s getting cranky in his hungry state. Pope simply rolls his eyes and chuckles as he drags him inside. 

“Pope!” 

The call of his name has Pope’s brows furrowing in confusion as he turns to look for the caller. He smiles when his eyes land on Jenny, one of his friends from school, and he tugs JJ over to the table so they can sit with them. 

“Holy shit! What are you doing here?” She smiles, jumping forward to wrap her arms around him. He laughs, pats her on the back a few times, before he pulls away. 

“We’re apartment hunting for the fall,” Pope explains and the girl smiles at him, invites them to sit with her. JJ gives him a weary look, but shrugs. Pope knows the other is ready to get back to the room, waiting for Pope to cash in on his promise from this morning and Pope tries to reassure the other that they won’t stay long. 

Pope keeps his promise and only an hour later they’re excusing themselves from the conversation and Jenny is setting up another time for them to hang out when they officially move back. Pope smiles and tells her to text him and the pair are heading out the door. 

Pope can tell JJ is tired as they walk along the path toward the car. He instantly takes the keys from the other and JJ doesn’t seem to fight him. The countless late nights at work seem to be catching up to him at this moment, now that he seems to have a second to rest, and Pope’s heart swells with appreciation as he thinks about how much work JJ is putting into them moving in together. The other has been working two jobs for years so they could save enough money to move in together once Pope got into graduate school and Pope was so appreciative if not a little guilty he hadn’t contributed more. JJ assured him time and time again that this is what he wanted and it would be worth it in the end when they could finally move away together. 

The door to the hotel room opens and closes though and it’s like a switch goes off in JJ. The other is instantly pulling Pope close, crashing their lips together as he lets his arms wind around Pope’s neck, pulls him closer. Pope is startled for a moment, let let’s himself sink into the touch, lets his hands rest on JJ’s hips, slide across the skin on his lower back, push the shirt up. 

“You better hold up your end of the promise,” JJ whispers, voices soft and filled with lust. Pope doesn’t have to be told twice as he crashes his lips to JJ’s, slips his tongue into his mouth without warning. The other gasps, Pope’s fingers playing over the bare skin on his back, drawing patterns into his skin that have JJ pushing forward, rubbing his already hard erection against Pope’s leg in a sudden need for friction. Pope smiles against his lips, pulls his mouth away and lets it fall to the exposed skin of his neck, slides across every single sensitive spot that he knows until he pulls back for a moment to tug JJ’s shirt over his head. 

Pope doesn’t take another second as he tugs the other away from the wall, walks him back toward the large bed and turns him around. He is quick to shove JJ down, ass hanging over the edge of the bed as Pope goes to flick the button to pull down both his pants and boxers in one quick motion. JJ groans from his spot on the bed, adjusts himself a bit as Pope tosses the garments aside with his shoes and socks. 

Pope smirks as JJ glances over his shoulder, arms brackets in front of him to hold him up. The other is naked in front of him, erection already straining against the edge of the bed and Pope swoops down in one quick motion to press his lips to each ass cheek. 

JJ lets out a deep groan, face falling into the comforter, and fingers fisting the fabric as he jerks back. Pope is quick to steady him, hand on each hip as he finally tugs his ass cheeks apart, swoops down to press his tongue to JJ’s asshole as the other shivers against him. 

Pope only rewards him with one quick lick though before he pulls back, letting out a puff of air as he watches JJ clench in front of him. The other reaches out blindly, but Pope isn’t having any of that, reaches forward to place his hand back where it was and JJ moans his name, nerdy and wanting as Pope lets out another breath of air. 

“Fuck, Pope,” JJ groans and Pope finally lets his tongue swip over his asshole again, smiles at the sounds JJ makes as he presses his tongue to the waiting skin, feels the way it clenches before Pope’s finally probs that ring of muscle and slips inside. “Shit. I love your tongue.” The words have Pope pulling his tongue out only to slip it back in again, smirking at the way JJ starts to thrust into him. 

Pope isn’t having that though, wraps his arms around JJ’s thighs and steadies him. JJ whines, fingers tightening in the comforter as Pope laps at his asshole, watching the way it twitches in front of his eyes.

It’s then he catches JJ’s hand shifting and Pope grabs it, pulls completely away from JJ as the other looks over his shoulder, completely gone and confused. Pope shakes his head at the other, places his hand back on the mattress next to his head and looks JJ in the eyes. “No touching.” There is no room for argument. 

JJ swallows and nods. 

Pope takes this opportunity to grab the lube from the night before, coats his fingers as he returns to his spot in front of JJ’s ass. The discarded towel from his morning shower is hanging off a chair and he is quick to grab that, spreading it under JJ so the other doesn’t cum on the hotel comforter. 

He blows another puff of air when he’s settled and smirks as JJ tries to move again, stopped by Pope’s hand pressing against his back, making it arch into the mattress below him. Pope takes the opportunity to slip the first finger in, leaning down to suck one of JJ’s balls into his mouth, letting his tongue lather the skin as he presses a second finger into him. 

JJ groans when he adds the third without warning, hips thrusting backwards at the intrusion. Pope stops at the action, waits for JJ to stop moving before he moves his fingers again, pressing them in and out as he finally allows his other hand to wrap around JJ’s hard, leaking cock. JJ nearly melts at the touch. 

“Fuck, I need it Pope.” JJ throws his head back at the words, eyes closed and chest heaving and Pope decides that it’s time. JJ whimpers when Pope pulls both of his hands away, making quick work of his pants before he lathers himself with lube. 

Without warning, he’s balls deep inside JJ, the other’s moan echoing in the small room. Pope gives him a moment, lets his finger trail along his arched spin and leans forward to trail his lips along his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, move,” JJ finally breaths and Pope starts in an instant, pace fast as he pushes and pulls in steady movements. He leans forward to cover the other, lets his fingers slide between JJ’s now open hand and presses his lips to the other’s back. 

It doesn’t take long for JJ’s hand to curl up again, Pope’s fingers trapped between his. The other cums with a loud groan of Pope’s name, riding out his orgasim as Pope pumps in and out of him steadily. The sight of the other cumming has Pope tipping over the edge, stomach clenching as he shoots himself inside JJ’s ass, bucks his hips a few more times before he pulls out slowly, earning a low groan from JJ, who has collapsed on the bed in a heap. 

“Fuck, I love you dick,” JJ mutters, face in the mattress as he tries to catch his breath. Pope laughs at his words, shifts so he can pull JJ closer. The other curls up against him, cum sticking to his abdomen and dribbling out of his ass. 

“We need a shower first. Don’t fall asleep on me,” Pope smiles, watching as JJ lifts his head just enough to rest his chin on Pope’s chest. 

“If I’m up tomorrow, can we repeat that?” 

Pope bursts out laughing at the words, moving so both of them can sit up properly. But one look at JJ’s face has Pope’s laughter dying down and he realizes how serious the other truly is. 

“Yeah, I think we can.” 

JJ smiles at him, tired and happy and the two make their way to the shower, tossing the towel they put on the bed into the dirty pile. 

—————————

The next day JJ gets out of bed without a fuss and a smirk on his lips. Pope merely rolls his eyes as they head to breakfast and out for their first meeting of the day. 

The three meetings are all in a row today and consist of another studio and two one bedroom apartments just outside of town in what is known as an up and coming area. Pope can see why as they drive around, noting how many young people are making their way to work and piling into the T to go into Boston for a day of school or work. It feels like a pretty good vide. 

The first place is small but cozy. It reminds Pope of the chateau with it’s worn wood accents and beach vibe. The older woman who owns the place is nice as she walks them around, explains that utilities are separate as well as WiFi and cable. She tells them a bit about the location and mentions a nice wooded area for walks. She sees nice enough, but glances at the two of them questioningly and Pope doesn’t like it. 

The second place is a generous studio on the first floor of a triple decker. The other two floors have veteran tenants and the only reason the current tenant moved out was because they got married and moved to a house. The owner, in their thirties and a little grumpy, shows them around, introduces them to the older couple upstairs and explains a few of the rules of the house, mentions that everything is separate but the two other tenants struck a deal for the cable that they could probably get in on. This one is closer to downtown but further from a place where they can go out and enjoy the fresh air. 

The third is a small one bedroom that overlooks a nice wooded area with a small body of water. It’s a bit out of their price range, but Pope wanted to compare it to some of the other places around. It has a nice open concept kitchen and living area and a recreation area out back since it’s in a bigger apartment complex. It also has a pool and its own gym attached. It comes with some amenities, including cable and washer and dryer, but it’s owned by a bigger company and Pope isn’t sure how he feels about that. JJ ends up running around the place looking at the gym, nearly falling into the pool and excited when he sees a nice place to sit down and grab a drink at the bar after work or school. It’s nice, but JJ shares one look with Pope and seems to understand it is out of their price range. 

They have until the end of the week for each of the places and Pope thinks they’ll need some time to figure out what they want. There are a few things to discuss as well as the help wanted sign he noticed at the bar at the last place. Would that be enough for them to afford to live there? Pope wasn’t sure but it was something to consider. 

They end up at the Boston Commons after driving around for a bit. JJ hurries around, smiling as he takes in the sights. It’s a little silly because they’ve been there before but never in summer when everything is in full bloom and the tours are in full swing. 

“Can we do one?” Pope hadn’t expected JJ to want to do the tour, but nods nonetheless. He’s heard good things about it and the actors are always amusing from what he understands. 

The tour is better than he even expected and he doesn’t know why they hadn’t done one sooner. It went through all the history around the area and even JJ seemed interested in the history around town. He would pipe up every once and awhile to ask a question, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the tour guide answered. 

They end the day with a quick meal at a restaurant the tour guide recommended before they head back to their hotel. 

Pope keeps his promise again and JJ spends the night a writhing, turned on mess as Pope teases him. 

————————-

The next morning they drive up to New Hampshire. They rent a little cottage on the lake and unpack before they head out to town. They don’t have many plans but Pope wants to take JJ on the railroad car for lunch and do some shopping in North Conway. He got a few hike recommendations from some of his friends and he was thinking they could hit some of those. 

But JJ is in the water first. The little cottage has floaties and JJ is basically asleep on one when Pope settles them into the small cottage. 

“JJ, you're floating away,” Pope comments, noting the other is heading out of the small cover they’ve gotten lucky enough is included in their rent. 

“Come rescue me,” JJ calls, doesn’t even bother to paddle as he pulls his hat down his head a little further and leans back into his open hands. 

Pope ends up simply kicking his shoes off and tugging the shirt over his head. The water is surprisingly warm when he jumps off the dock, swimming over to his boyfriend. “Finally, my hero,” JJ jokes, but Pope doesn’t go to pull him in. Instead, he gives himself a boost until he lands on the edge of the tube and the two go tumbling off, JJ’s hat floating away next to them. 

JJ is laughing when he surfaces, going to splash Pope before he leaps forward to dunk him into the water. “Dude, I was almost asleep!” Pope simply laughs as he scrambles to grab the tube and pulls it over his head. JJ pops up on the other side, flipping it so he’s in the hole now. 

“It’s almost lunch and we don’t have any food,” Pope comments, nearly slipping off the side. JJ is back up again, reaching a hand out so he can pull Pope onto the tube as well. 

“We can go in a bit.” The words are accompanied by JJ wrapping his arms around Pope’s waist, making him tumble forward so they’re chest to chest. Pope isn’t sure how they don’t fall off, but he doesn’t question it as he looks into JJ’s blue, blue eyes shining in the sun. “I just wanna relax a bit.” 

“I thought you relaxed last night,” Pope teases and JJ responds by slipping his hand down and giving Pope’s ass a nice squeeze and a light pat before his hand snakes up his back to pull Pope in for another kiss. “We are not doing it in the water!” JJ simply smirks against his lips, letting his finger trace along Pope’s spine until they dip into the waistband of his pants. Pope is quick to catch his hand though, pulling away to give the other a look. “It’s daylight.” 

“So you’d consider doing this at night?” 

Pope stops to contemplate, but the silence seems to be enough for JJ as he cheers, knocking both of them out of the tube in the process. He’s still cheering when he resurfaces and insists that Pope hurry up so they can grab lunch and go about their day. The sooner they get going, the sooner that can get back in the water tonight for more sex. 

———————-

Pope convinces JJ to go on a hike after lunch. The other pouts and complains, but ends up enjoying it more than Pope knows he’ll admit. Pope can see it in the way his eyes shine as he looks around or the fact he keeps running ahead like a little child, excited. It has Pope hurrying after him, smile bright, as JJ points out each view they come across. 

It’s a short trail but kills a few hours so they can get dinner when they’re at the bottom, sweaty and tired from the hike. JJ gobbles down his dinner, ready for a late swim, and Pope indulges him and hurries along. 

JJ doesn’t even go in the house. He simply strips off his clothes and jumps off the dock in his boxers, yelling “cannonball” as he flies through the air. Pope laughs as he watches him fondly and he decides to simply strip as well. 

JJ wolf whispers as he tugs his shorts down, folds them up nicely and places them aside with his shirt. Pope rolls his eyes and runs down the dock, jumping in near JJ so he can splash him. He surfaces to JJ’s blue eyes shining as he swims over to him, throwing his arms around his neck. 

“This is nice,” he comments, leaning forward to connect their lips. Pope can barely touch the ground as he wraps his arms around JJ’s waist, pulls him closer so they’re chest to chest. “I could see us with a house on the lake. It’s not the ocean, but it’s nice. We could have the best of both worlds.”

Pope’s heart always stutters and swells when JJ talks about their future. The other had been so hesitant at first to mention the prospects of a life together. It wasn’t until they said I love you that JJ started mentioning the future, often nervous and off handed. It was years later and he always talked about it with a fond smile on his face and excitement for a future he never thought he would get. 

“It would be nice,” Pope comments, reaching up to brush some hair off JJ’s face. “I’m sure we can rent this place again next summer as well. It could be our new tradition.” 

The words have JJ beaming as he leans forward to connect their lips again, slow and loving. It isn’t long before his hands are wandering though, sliding down Pope’s back and into his boxers. “JJ,” Pope mutters, voice as chastising as he can make it but JJ is kissing his neck now, sucking that spot he knows that makes Pope melt and suddenly JJ is walking them back and discarding both pairs of boxers onto the dock. 

It isn’t very dark yet, but the sunset is playing out behind JJ’s head and Pope doesn’t fight it this time. There aren’t any boats around and the neighboring houses (which are pretty far away) don’t seem to be occupied right now. 

He doesn’t fight it when JJ slips his hand between them, fingers wrapping around both of their cocks as he starts to pump, lips sucking a mark into Pope’s neck. Pope groans, hand quick to cover his mouth. He doesn’t exactly want the whole lake to hear. The action has JJ smirking against his neck, hand picking up as he pumps them together, the feeling of JJ’s dick against his causing Pope’s stomach to tighten. 

JJ’s mouth slips down and Pope gasps, his orgasim hitting him all at once. He leans forward as JJ pumps them to completion, forehead presses against JJ’s shoulder as he bites his lip to prevent from making too much noise. JJ follows only moments later, not bothering as his groan carries across the water. 

JJ isn’t done though. He simply reaching forward to grab their discarded boxers and helps Pope into his as he presses his lips to his neck again. “I think we should take this inside,” he smirks and Pope doesn’t even argue as the two of them head back toward the cottage. 

Pope isn’t even in the door before JJ is pushing him against it, tugging his boxers back down in one quick motion before he walks them to their room. 

JJ at least knows enough not to get the bed wet, which is how Pope finds his hands pressing to the wall and JJ kneeling behind him as he licks a trail down his spine. 

————————-

Pope wakes up to the smell of bacon and eggs the next morning. They hadn’t gone shopping the previous day so he figures JJ ran out to grab something at the little store down the way. 

He takes his time waking up, stretching his arms over his head and kicking the hot covers off. He tugs a shirt over his head as he pads out of the room, yawn leaving his lips as he does so. 

JJ is standing at the stove when he comes out and Pope makes his way around the small island to wrap his arms around JJ’s waist, press his cheek against his back as he lets his eyes drift closed. “Morning,” he mumbles, smiling when JJ takes one of his hands and brings it up to his lips to kiss. He pats it when he places it back around his waist, moving to flip the eggs. 

“I really wore you out last night. You didn’t even move when I woke up,” JJ teases and Pope hums in answer, tired. JJ had worn him out last night but he wasn’t going to complain about that. They didn’t have a solid itinerary either so it didn’t matter what time they woke up just so long as they didn’t sleep too late. 

They fall into a comfortable silence as JJ finishes up with the bacon and eggs. When they’re on two plates, JJ turns in Pope’s arms, smiling when Pope smiles sleepily at him. He leans forward to peck his lips, before he goes to grab the two plates of food and place them on the small table. 

“What do you think about the apartments?” JJ asks around a mouth full of eggs. 

“I think the first one is the best. The price is reasonable too,” Pope comments and JJ nods in agreement. 

“The last one was good,” JJ adds, munching on a piece of bacon. “I know it’s out of our price range though.” Pope hums in agreement. “Out of the other’s, I liked the first one too.” 

“He allows pets too. They have to be smaller, but I know you want a dog so I made sure to ask,” Pope explains, watching the momentary shock settle on JJ’s face. The shock quickly turns into a smile as they look at each other and Pope can practically feel the love and appreciation radiating off him in waves. 

“You asked for me?” Pope nods. “I can live with a smaller dog, at least for now.” 

“I think it might be the first one then.” 

“Yeah, I agree.” 

They continue to talk about what furniture they need after that until the pair are done with breakfast. JJ goes about cleaning up without question, letting Pope get ready for their hike this morning. 

The trail is warm and sunny when they get there and JJ hurries ahead when he finds some maps at the beginning of the trail. “This ones pretty short,” he comments, holding the map upside down. It doesn’t really matter though as they start toward the entrance. 

“I have reservations for the lunch train after so I wanted to make sure we only did a short one,” Pope explains. JJ seems to realize as they step on the trail he is holding the map upside down and turns it over, looking at the trail before he folds it back up neatly and tucks it away into his backpack. 

The trail is very short, but the waterfall at the end is a nice little surprise. JJ hurries around to take a few pictures so he can send them to Kie. He snaps a few selfies of them with the fall behind him and even asks someone to take a nicer picture of the two of them. 

During the little walk back JJ is happily swinging their hands between them, humming some tune as the parking lot comes into view. Pope takes the keys he offers and glances at his phone. They should have just enough time to get to lunch. 

JJ is bouncing in his seat as they get closer and closer to the train. They’ve never been on a train before so Pope is excited too, can feel the happy butterflies in his stomach as they pull into the parking lot, smile on his lips as JJ hops out of the car at top speed, waiting impatiently for Pope to pull the keys out of the car and get out. 

The train car is narrow as they walk through, but people are chatting happily and pointing out things on the small menu. JJ and Pope find themselves a seat near the middle and slide in across from each other. “This is so cool,” JJ comments, glancing around at the train. There are a few more people that pile in before they announce they’ll be leaving.  

“The views are supposed to be great,” Pope comments, grabbing the menu. It’s small and consists mostly of sandwiches but he doesn’t mind. They’re here for the experience anyway. 

JJ nods excitedly as someone comes through to check their tickets, the waiter following behind and taking orders. The pair orders a sandwich each and quickly turns their attention to the view out the window. 

Pope smiles as he watches trees flash by them, taking a moment to glance at his boyfriend, now leaning toward the open window, fingers wrapped around the edge as he leans out. Pope shakes his head at his antics, but turns his attention back toward the tree, admiring the mountain view as the trees clear. 

The intercom crackles to life as the food is brought out. The pair eat happily, JJ’s foot sliding up and down Pope’s calf. Pope doesn’t comment, simply rolls his eyes as the pair glance out the window again. 

The two hour ride goes faster than expected and the two are hopping off the train before they know it. JJ is still excited, glancing around at all the little shops along the street across the way. Pope doesn’t think he’ll be interested much in some of the shops, but knows the old fashioned candy store is right up his alley. 

JJ is peeling off the second they step inside, going up and down the aisle excitedly as he picks out a few things. “I’m getting this for Kie!” He calls over the top of the aisle, holding something up for Pope to see. He doesn’t see it around the people there though and simply shrugs. “And this for John B!” 

Pope simply chuckles and he picks out something for his parents and makes his way to the candy display. JJ is already there, eyes bright. “Get whatever you want,” Pope tells him, that excited expression turning toward Pope. “It’s my treat.” 

And maybe he shouldn’t have said that because JJ comes out with two pounds worth of candy and a stomach ache already forming from the fudge he eats on the way out. 

He looks much too happy for Pope to comment though. 

——————————

The Savo River is their next adventure. 

They find a spot to rent tubes and the company drives them up river so they can float down. It’s a warm day, and Pope makes sure to spray JJ down with sunscreen before they head out. 

JJ is bouncing on the balls of his feet as the van pulls up and a few people file into the van, JJ and Pope ending up in the seats in the back. “It’s like a lazy river but in nature,” JJ comments, eyes glued to the window as he watches the river go by them. 

JJ is the first one out when they arrive and he ends up helping a few people out of the van before Pope can even move. He holds his hand out for Pope though, smiles all big and wide and gummy and Pope can’t help but take his hand as he helps him out of the van, waiting for Pope’s feet to be securely on the ground before he hurries to grab the tubes. 

Pope purposely waits for the other people to get settled and float a bit down the river before they both situate themselves into the tube. JJ is already flapping around a bit, kicking his legs in the deep part before he adjusts so he’s lying across the tube this time, hat hung low over his eyes. Pope situates himself when he notices that JJ has settled and pulls his own hat down a bit to block the sun. 

The river lulls him as they float down, a yawn leaving his lips as he tries not to fall asleep. This motion reminds him of all those nights spent on the boat with his friends, of the first night JJ took him out on the boat alone as a couple and they ended up falling asleep only for John B to come looking for them when it got too late. The memories have happiness blooming in his chest as he glances over at the man he loves, happily kicking his feet in and out of the warm water as they float 

The peace doesn’t last long though and suddenly Pope finds himself immersed in the water, JJ’s blue eyes there to greet him when he resurfaces. He’s not surprised in the least. He simply lunges forward and dunks the other, careful to make sure the tubes are still in sight as JJ comes up spitting water out of his mouth. 

It’s shallow but the two of them fool around a bit until they see a few more people coming their way. JJ clearly wants to keep playing, but climbs on his tube reluctantly after Pope promises they’ll go in the water when they get back to the cottage. 

JJ falls asleep on the tube only a few minutes later and Pope hooks his foot to his tube so he doesn’t float too far away. 

————————

They get back to the cottage late but JJ basically begs Pope to go into the water again, citing it as the last time they’ll be able to this trip since they’re heading home tomorrow. Pope doesn’t need much convincing though as he follows JJ off the dock. 

The other swims around happily, splashing around and Pope floats on a fun noodle. He watches JJ closely as the other goes in and out of the water, happily pointing out fish in the setting sunlight. Pope can’t help the fond smile on his lips as JJ swims around. He looks happier than Pope has ever seen him and he knows this is what he wants forever. 

————————

“JJ, it’s time to get up,” Pope mutters, brushing blond hair from JJ’s eyes. The other rolls over, facing away from Pope as he curls up into the pillow. 

“‘M tired.” Pope chuckles, reminded of their departure for this trip as JJ tugs the blanket back over his head, his usual when he doesn’t want to get out of bed. “I don’t wanna leave.” 

“We’ll be back before you know,” Pope promises because they will. It may not be in this cottage but it will be in their apartment, which has officially been reserved for the pair to move into in a month. Pope still couldn’t believe they were finally doing this, still can’t believe how lucky he is. “And it will be in our own place.” 

JJ emerges at that statement, blue eyes peeking over the edge of the sheets as he looks at Pope. He looks happy and content in his little blanket cocoon and Pope hates that he has to take JJ away from this relaxing vacation. This is the first break JJ has gotten in so long, working so hard to save up so they could live this life together. “I love you,” JJ mutters as he watches him, eyes still half closed with sleep. 

“Marry me?”

Pope snaps his mouth shut as the words slip from his lips. It’s something he’s been thinking about lately and was planning to actually propose properly. This isn’t really how he wanted to do it, but he wasn’t about to take the words back. 

JJ shoots up the second the words leave Pope’s mouth, eyes wide as he watches Pope, searches his face for any sign that this might not be real. 

“I just-“ Pope finally continues as JJ watches him. “I know this is weird timing, but I want this. I want you, for the rest of my life. I want to move in together, get a dog, buy a house, travel, have kids. I want everything with you. I love you so much and I can’t imagine a future where I don’t love you more each day.” 

“Yes,” JJ whispers, eyes still wide. It’s like he is still processing as he answers, still trying to comprehend that Pope just asked him to marry him. 

And it takes Pope a moment to realize that he said yes. But the second it clicks, Pope is lunging forward to connect their lips, a teary laugh leaving JJ’s lips as he lets his arm slide around Pope’s neck. 

They end up leaving a little later than planned, but Pope doesn’t mind, not when he’s pressing into his fiancé. 

———————

JJ smiles as he looks at the door to their new apartment. The place is pretty empty but it was theirs. The bed on the floor was new and big, cotton sheets comforting and warm around them. The couch is small, but doesn’t have any springs that dig into their backs, and the small tv was already hooked up to cable. 

They didn’t have much money to fill the place yet, but JJ knows they’ll buy stuff little by little and make this their home. 

“Ready?” Pope asks, turning to him. They’re hands are clasped together between them, both smiling like idiots as they look at the door. JJ can feel the imprint of the ring on Pope’s finger, knows he has a matching one on his left hand as well. 

“I’ve always been ready to spend my life with you,” JJ comments, cheesy and silly but that’s how he was feeling right now. He couldn’t even imagine being happier than in this moment with the man he loves and plans to spend forever with. 

Pope reaches out to open the door but JJ stops him, a grin tugging up his lips. He lets his arms slide around Pope’s back, watches the question flash over Pope’s face as he leans over and attempts to pick Pope up off the ground. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Pope asks, working hard to keep his feet on the ground. 

“Carrying you into our home,” JJ states, like it is the most obvious thing in the word. Pope just gives him a look. 

“You are not!”

“I’m not going to drop you!” 

“I don’t care!”

But JJ isn’t having any of that as he goes to lift the other again, trying to get him to pick his feet up off the ground. After a few attempts, Pope seems to realize it’s dumb to fight and lets JJ pull his feet off the ground, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

JJ smiles at him as Pope turns the knob and the two of them step into their new apartment together. 

“I think we need to break in the bed,” JJ smirks and Pope laughs, warm and bright. 

“I think that’s a good idea.”

JJ kicks the door closed behind them as he makes his way to the bedroom, Pope’s lips on his neck as he carries the other through the second threshold that day. 

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 12

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

“Okay girls, chop chop, the shower awaits! You were in good form today, let’s keep that up until tomorrow!”

Seven girls from ages eight to eleven rushed past her, giggling and jumping around each other after a successful training session. With a sigh, Astrid watched them disappear behind the door to the showers, glad that none of them slipped on the wet floor. The last thing she needed was half of her team losing their teeth or breaking their bones before the competition tomorrow.

She watched the water for a few minutes, small waves still rippling through the pool from the recent activity. As always, it was entrancing, hearing the soft gurgling call out to her, inviting her in for a swim. Briefly considering giving in, Astrid shook her head and walked towards the shower to check on the girls. She had to make sure they didn’t dawdle too long because their parents were picking them up soon. Besides, she had plans herself.

The big clock on the wall told her she still had time; if it weren’t for the children she had to urge to leave the warm shower and quit fooling around (like they always did, because even if they couldn’t swim in the water, they found other ways to play with it), she’d technically have time to swim a few laps on her own. All she had to do was lose the shorts, flip-flops and t-shirt she wore over her swimsuit, and dive in.

But she didn’t give herself the option, walking through the door to the showers instead. Excited squeals and giggles mixed with the sound of splashing water greeted her. And when she turned the corner, situating herself in the doorway with a stern face and her hands on her hips, she didn’t have to wait five seconds before the girls had spotted her and hurriedly went back to dumping shampoo on their hair.

“I want to see all of you dressed and ready by the hairdryers in ten minutes! If I catch one of you still in here by then, I’ll have all of you do twenty extra laps next week!”

Aware that she was one to follow through with her threats, the girls sped up their showering routines, their chatter dying down to the occasional urge for the particularly slow-paced teammate to hurry up.

Astrid left the showers for the changing rooms, swapping her clothes for her jeans and t-shirt. By the time she was tying her shoes, the last of the kids had entered the room and started to dress themselves.

“Don’t dawdle too long, you parents are waiting,” she reminded them when she left the room. A few years back, when she’d first started this job, she’d always stayed behind until the last of the kids were done. But she’d soon found that it was far more effective to get them to hurry if she already left the room, letting them know she was waiting for them.

And lo and behold, no more than five minutes later, all seven girls were fully dressed and fighting over the best hairdryers. The first parents were waiting behind the turnstiles, but Astrid took the time to huddle up her girls for a last team assembly.

“Remember, go to sleep early tonight, and don’t eat an entire chocolate cake before bed. Believe me, I’ve been there, you’ll just regret it in the morning.” That earned her a few giggles. “And don’t stress yourselves out too much, you got this! We trained hard and we’re in top form. And even if we don’t come first tomorrow, I know you’re going to do your best. Team Berk on three!” Seven hands joined her in the middle. “One, two, three, Team Berk!”

“Team Berk!” seven motivated kids repeated.

She high-fived every one of them before she let them go. Another glance at her watch informed her that she still had a few minutes, but when some of the parents engaged her in small talk and details about the next day, she started to feel impatient. Answering their questions as best (and fast) as she could, she waved goodbye to the lot and nearly sprinted over to her car.

Checking herself in the rear-view mirror and combing through her bangs with her fingers, she took a deep breath and started the engine. There was a forest waiting for her.

_______________

Every car that drove onto the parking lot turned out to be a disappointment. Even though they were probably good cars from good manufacturers (and some of them were, he could see that) and some looked really sleek, definitely better than his own heap of scrap metal – they all weren’t the car he was waiting for. Or rather waiting to see only, because he was actually waiting for the person who drove the car.

The people that emerged from the cars dug the hole of disappointment in his belly even deeper. He knew that those who hopped out wouldn’t be her, but actually seeing it smothered the small, excited flame inside him further. Because who knew, maybe she was getting a ride from someone, maybe she’d bought a new car in the last few days and didn’t mention it.

And maybe he shouldn’t work himself up over this so much. Because wasn’t he just waiting for a friend? Hadn’t he told his heart to shut up and lose the last dusty boxes of hope it was still storing in the back somewhere? He really needed to have a serious conversation with himself sometime soon.

For now, however, he could only focus on the street and the exit to the parking lot, the sound of tires on gravel slowly beginning to fuel his nervousness with every wrong car that showed up. He watched hikers, families, joggers, groups of teenagers, and dog walkers disappear between the trees. Knew that the crowd would disperse around the first picnic table at the big old oak tree. From there on, the pathways would lead in various directions deeper into the woods, forking off every now and then to meet again at a different point, direction signs and maps at every junction.

Two short honks made him wince and turn around, laying eyes on the small blue car maneuvering into a parking spot. Every disappointed drop of his stomach in the last twenty minutes was forgotten the moment the door opened and Astrid Hofferson stepped out, long hair shining in the sun like liquid gold, making his heart forget to beat for a long moment. Well, so much for getting over her.

“Hi!” she called over, shutting the door behind her and pressing a button on her key. Hiccup had to force himself to close his mouth and feebly wave back. Why did her legs have to look so long in her simple jeans? And what was it about her that exuded so much beautiful energy?

“Hey,” she said again when she reached him, putting her keys and phone in the little backpack she was carrying.

“Hey,” he managed to reply in a steady voice. Why was he doing this to himself? Why couldn’t he just stay away from her? Why did it have to be so hard?

“Let’s go?” she suggested when he just continued to stare at her, unable to formulate a coherent sentence. He still didn’t trust his brain to speak properly, so he just nodded and hummed in agreement. Only briefly did he consider turning on his heels and getting some distance, but she was already striding over to the first line of trees with purposeful steps. Like a loyal, devoted dog, he could do nothing but follow her.

The first few hundred yards on the wide main path, they walked in silence. Sometimes, their swinging hands would brush and every time he would recoil from the shock. For a split second, he could swear that her pinky curled around his. But when he glanced down, her fingers were tapping against her leg and he couldn’t tell if he’d imagined the contact. He decided it was smarter to stuff his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for hers constantly.

“Where to now?” she asked once they reached the old oak. He hadn’t really thought about that beforehand; he usually just let his mind wander and his feet take him somewhere.

“Um… Let’s go right,” he said, pointing in the left direction. “Uh- That right.” He pointed the other way. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Astrid stifle a grin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He could hear the amusement in her voice and he wanted to lie down and die. Then she lightly punched him in the arm and walked past him. His arm tingled like crazy and he didn’t want to die so much anymore.

Catching up to her, he mentally pulled up a map of the forest, loosely planning the route they could take. He wanted to steer away from the main paths a little, go where it was quiet and where there weren’t any babbling people and loud teenagers with their music and littering disturbing the scene. Besides, he kind of wanted to be alone with her, even if there was nothing he could do about it. He felt like he was trying to milk a bull.

“So–“

“What–“ she started at the same time. She swept her bangs out of her eyes and glanced at him, right when he glanced at her. They locked eyes for a few seconds, staring at each other with blank faces before they both burst out laughing. It successfully melted the awkward tension away.

“You go first,” she said.

“Wow, thanks, that- that’s so generous of you.”

“Okay, then I will–“

“Nope! You’ll get your turn. Be more patient, Astrid.” He jumped out of the way before she could sock him in the arm again. He probably should have seen it coming, though, that when he returned to her side, she used the opportunity to tackle him sideways. He staggered to the side with a surprised yelp.

“Oops! Was that too hard?” she asked with a falsely apologetic voice.

“I came here to have a good time,” Hiccup whined, rubbing his arm, “but I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” The incredulous grin on her face was worth all the pain (that she inflicted on him herself, but never mind that detail).

“Is that all you have to say, you dork?”

“No, I actually just wanted to ask how your day was. Yesterday, I mean. And today, so far. You had swim training, right?”

“I did.” She smiled and he felt safe enough to walk right beside her again. “Yesterday was pretty average. Almost boring, if it hadn’t been for your constant spamming of nerdy fantasy book stuff.”

“Constant spamming of nerdy stuff? You specifically asked me to tell you more!”

She shrugged. “Still nerdy.”

“So you’re calling yourself a nerd.”

“If anything, I’m a nerd for hearing my friends talk about their nerdy interests.”

“Are you trying to tell me you were not at all interested in the magic system of the book I had to read for work and that you did not keep asking very specific questions with a vocabulary that not at all insinuated that you obsessed over fantasy world settings before? Besides, you’re the one who’s been forwarding me all kinds of dog videos all week.”

She grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “You’re the nerd, shut up.”

“What was that?”

“So I had swim training today.” As she continued to tell him about the competition the next day, he couldn’t stop grinning and had trouble taking his eyes off her. God, he loved her. And there really was no way out.

Their comfortable banter rolled back and forth between them as they hiked deeper into the woods, soon leaving the main paths behind.

“How do you know this place so well?” she asked when he led her through the underbrush onto a clearing that she would have never discovered by herself.

“My dad took me here a lot when I was a kid. And when I got older, I went by myself. You know, just walking for hours, thinking, winding down, and sometimes the inspiration just hits.”

He strolled over to a thick tree lying on the ground and sat down. For a minute, he closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face. When he looked again, Astrid sat next to him, studying his face. He tried not to blush. “What?”

“What did you do with your dad when you came here?”

“Fishing, at a small lake in that direction.” He pointed ahead. “Well, he wanted to go fishing. I was mostly busy searching for trolls.”

She chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“Yeah, I was that kind of kid.”

“I was the one wrestling all the boys on the playground to show them I was stronger.”

“Were you?”

“Of course! Anyone who tells you different is a liar. Especially Zack Bauman! He was only six years older, but definitely not stronger.”

“For the sake of my own health, I’ll choose to believe that.”

“Good.” She took off her backpack and pulled out a water bottle. “You’re smart.”

“I know.”

She drank from her water and frowned at him. “Didn’t you bring anything?”

“Why? It’s not like I’m going camping.”

“What if you get thirsty?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just drink from a stream.”

The pace at which her eyebrows rose was almost comical. “You know that’s not filtered, right? Dirt gets in there, rain polluted with fumes, it’s where fish die, and sometimes people pee in there!”

“So? Beauty of nature!”

With the way she continued to stare at him as if he was growing another head, it became harder and harder to keep up his poker face. Finally, he broke down, a grin breaking out over his face and his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“Just kidding, I have water in the car. Besides, the running water here is actually pretty good.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile. “I’m still not fully believing you, though. Here.” She held out her bottle to him. “It’s medium sparkling.”

“Thanks.” He took the bottle and started drinking. Only when his lips touched the opening, his brain caught up in the most annoying of ways, almost prompting him to choke on the water. What it told him wasn’t, oh this water is refreshing or I was more thirsty than I thought or something else mundane like, the color of the label is white and green.

No, what his brain screamed at him was: HER LIPS TOUCHED THIS! Admittedly, the way this particular thought affected him was less mature than he’d like to claim. In a way, wasn’t he indirectly kissing her over some kind of detour? (Oh god, he was pathetic.)

He handed her the bottle back, refusing to meet her eyes, willing the blush away that had crept onto his face and only felt impossibly warmer when she took another sip herself before she put the bottle away.

“Alright, let’s get going!” She jumped up from the trunk and planted herself in front of him. “Where to next?”

“Don’t you just want to sit and enjoy the moment for a few more minutes?”

“If I’d wanted to chill under trees, I’d have gone for my hammock. Come on!” She pulled him up by his arms and when he stood, he was suddenly so close to her, he could count the tiny freckles on her nose. But he didn’t get the chance to because she was already walking purposefully ahead again.

“Wrong direction.”

In one graceful move, she spun around and walked the other way.

“Just kidding, that was the right direction- Ow! No violence in these woods!” Rubbing his arm, he caught up to her.

“You brought this on yourself, pal. Now show me the way!”

For a while, they walked the beaten paths, evading stinging nettles and other overgrowing weeds. The air was warm and humid, the sun was trying to burn through the leaves and Hiccup was gladder than ever that he’d decided to wear short sleeves today (ignoring the nettles that were on a personal mission to cuddle him).

“Man, I can’t believe it’s only May, this feels like mid-July!”

Astrid snorted. “Are we back to awkward weather talks?”

“It’s not awkward if I’m complaining. Which I am.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Berk used to be so cold when we were kids. Fricking climate change.”

“Nope, nuh-uh, we’re not having the climate change talk right now. If you want to ban weather talk, I’m banning climate change talk.”

“But I have opinions!”

“Big news, Astrid, we all do. We can talk about it another time.”

“Fine,” she grumbled and kicked at a pebble. “Then I’m not going to tell you about my cousin’s treehouse.”

“Okay, and I’m not gonna tell you how Snotlout and I became friends.”

“Who?”

He scratched his neck. “That guy that hit on you. At the park. Last Saturday.”

She chuckled. “Oh, right. I completely forgot about him. But yeah, what’s up with that?! I mean, I only spent, like, a minute with that guy and I wasn’t even paying attention to him, but I did hear how he tried to flirt with me.”

“That’s Snotlout for you. But first, I wanna hear about that treehouse.”

She hopped onto an oak log lying next to the path and balanced down its length, occasionally holding onto Hiccup’s shoulder to steady herself. “Well, when we were kids, my cousin had this treehouse he built with his dad. It had three stories, a ladder, walls with windows, a roof, even a fence. We played so many games of pretend up there and climbed through the trees.” She jumped from the end of the log, wiping a few strands of hair from her face that had escaped the braid falling down her back.

“Sounds fun.”

“It was. But then we got older and he wanted to play Fifa more than climb trees. I miss that sometimes,” she shrugged, glancing at him from the side, “pretending that the invisible enemy you’re hiding in a treehouse from is the most important thing in the world right now.”

With a loud smack, Hiccup hit the mosquito on his arm and successfully squashed it. “Gotcha!” He met Astrid’s bewildered expression. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you. These damn fuckers are early this year. And for some reason, they love me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t love you,” she said with a wave of her hand. “They’re only using you to get to your blood.”

“Harsh.”

“Look, if they can suck it up, you can too. I need to know the Snotlout story.”

In that moment, Hiccup spotted something up ahead and a smirk spread on his face. “First of all, nice wordplay. And second – too bad that, once you get older, you can’t climb trees anymore.” And before she could answer, he sprinted off towards a large old oak stretching its limbs over the path in front of them.

He put his foot into a split in the trunk, held onto a branch and hauled himself upwards. He didn’t get far, though, before Astrid practically climbed over him, fast and agile and with a competitive determination.

“Hey, slowpoke!” she called down from a branch fork further up the tree.

“That’s a Pokémon,” he huffed while pulling himself higher up. Winded and with new scratches on the side of his arm, he finally made it next to the branch she was sitting on. He stayed in a slightly uncomfortable spot where part of the trunk split in two more parts, leaned against the bigger half and caught his breath. “How- how are you… so good at… at this? Phew! Wait, that… That was a stupid question.”

“It’s because I’m the best. But you’re not so bad yourself, look, we’re at least ten feet up! Probably even higher.”

“Yeah, that’s- Oh, that’s high up.” He looked down at the ground, glad he had enough tree to hold onto.

“Don’t fall.”

He shot her an unimpressed look. “Ha ha ha. Funny.”

“Or at least don’t until I heard the Snotlout-Hiccup origin story.”

Securing his footing, he made himself as comfortable as possible. He was high up in a tree with Astrid Hofferson in the middle of the woods. Just a normal Saturday.

“Fine, fine. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a ride. I was only a wee lad when–“

“Hiccup,” she interrupted, “you’re not Scottish.”

“Technically, I am. Partially. Half Berkian, one quarter Icelandic, the other Scottish. And if I believe my grandpa’s stories, both my dad’s and mom’s families are Viking descendants.”

“Hey, me too! Both my great-grandmas were from Sweden, and they definitely descended from Vikings. We still have my great-grandfather’s ancestry research collection in the attic somewhere.”

“Wow. No wonder you didn’t change your name when you got married. Keeping the Hofferson name, the legacy, and all that- that jazz.”

She averted her face. “Yeah. That’s the reason. Part of it, anyway.”

He got the clue that she didn’t want to talk about it further, so he changed the topic. “So, Snotlout and I were neighbors growing up.”

Her smile returned and she looked at him expectantly, like a kid waiting for its campfire story. It was adorable. He wanted to lean in and cherish that smile up close until he kissed it off her face…

“And that’s it?” her voice brough him back to reality. “You were neighbors? That’s the whole story?”

“Sorry, I kinda spaced out there. In the memories,” he quickly added. “Like I said, we were neighbors as kids and became friends along the way.” His cheeks were still burning. “Actually, Snotlout used to make fun of me a lot back then – okay, not much has changed, if I think about it… But I’d call it lovingly teasing instead of bullying now.”

She chuckled. “Lovingly teasing?”

“Or maybe respectful bullying that’s not meant to actually hurt and that I can shrug off as Snotlout being Snotlout?” He shrugged. “Call it whatever you like.”

“Respectful bullying,” she repeated and pushed a leaf out of her face. She had to stick the twig behind a branch so it didn’t swing back in her face. He could relate. He’d been there too many a time. “How’d he go from bullying to respectful bullying, then?”

“When we were eight, I built a trap that knocked out two of his teeth. Gained his respect for life. Or maybe he’s just scared of me.”

She laughed, and it was music to his ears. “Yes, you’re very scary. All of… this is making me cower and shiver in fear.”

“Did you just gesture to all of me?”

“Well, all of you is very scary.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” He leaned his face against the forked off part of the trunk and she adapted her position right after. Her gorgeous eyes were so much bigger in this light. It was like looking into the summer sky. She licked her lips. He gulped hard, yearning to close the gap and melt into her, hallowing this tree forever.

She blinked a couple times and shook her head, breaking him out of his trance as well. How many times had she sucked him in already, lifting him from the ground, into a dreamlike state, like some kind of mind-bending drug? He needed to get a grip on himself and stop drifting off every time she so much as looked at him.

“Uhh… Where was I?” he asked and cleared his throat when his voice came out too raspy. For his own safety, he leaned back against the thick trunk. Just in case.

“Teeth and respect.”

“Right.” He rubbed his neck. “Yeah. So. We, uh, we kind of hung out together after a while, but, like, separately?” His hands started gesticulating on their own and without the additional support, his balance began to shift dangerously to the side so he held onto the next best branch again. As soon as his hands were out of the conversation, his shoulders took over and he felt the soft vibrations in the tree. “What I mean is, we would both be at the playground, but we didn’t interact much, until one of us had an idea to share or needed help with something. Over time, we grew closer, and then suddenly, we realized we were friends. We would never say it, but we both knew.”

“Aw, that’s cute.”

He snorted. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll deny everything.”

“Oh, in that case, I will definitely tell him that the next time I see him.”

Hiccup’s heart leaped at the idea of her spending time with his friends. It meant she would continue to be in his life. “When you do, please make sure I’m there to witness.”

“That’s a given.” She grinned and he had to force himself to believe that, in that moment, the sun only coincidentally lit up her eyes even brighter.

“Good.” He grinned back. “Anyway, I think I already told you this, but I had social phobia as a teen, low self-esteem and – yeah. It was hard to maintain friendships, but Snot was kind of a constant in my life. Someone who stuck with me, despite constantly complaining about my general loserness in public. Sometimes, late at night, when I’d climbed the roof of our house again because I was in one of my down phases and wanted to be left alone, he could see that from his bedroom window.”

While he talked, she pulled out a granola bar from her backpack. She broke it in two and handed him one half, munching on the other. Their fingers brushed. He was enjoying every little moment of this day, no matter how much he would suffer from it in the long run.

“Thanks... So he snuck over and kept me company, even though I didn’t wanna talk or see anyone. He would just sit there with me, keeping his distance, and tell me how he thought I actually didn’t suck and that other people sucked who didn’t see that. Coming from that guy, that’s the highest form of compliment you can think of. Because it was one hundred percent earnest.”

He bit off a piece of his granola snack, humming when the taste of raspberry and nuts exploded in his mouth. “We also both had problems with our dads,” he continued before swallowing the food, “so we bonded over that, too. And then I went to therapy and my dad made an effort to help and things got way better between me and him. Snot’s dad, though… He’s still an ass.”

While the last of the granola bar disappeared between his teeth, she regarded him thoughtfully. Eventually, she said, “I knew it was worth it asking for this story.”

“Oh? How so?”

She shrugged. “Because I figured there was no way you’d be friends with a guy like Snotlout if there wasn’t more to it, or to him. Because there’s more to you.”

“Oh. Uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, combing out a small bug in the process. “I guess…” His fingers tingled with the urge to reach for her hand so badly. He clapped his hands together in order to ignore the sensation. “So! What now?” he asked, maybe a little too loudly.

“I don’t know, you’re the one with the plan.”

“Right…” He pulled up his mental map. “How about we keep walking? There’s a stream not far ahead.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He nodded a few times before glancing past his feet. “…So how do I get back down?”

[bngtanah]

Red Lips | JK (m)

summary: “Red Lips Always Lie.” Jungkook was the type of guy your parents always warned you about. Handsome, charming and not to be trusted.

pairing: Jungkook  x Named!Reader

genre: angst, smut

words: 2.8k

chapters: o1| o2|

warning: fuccboi!jungkook, smut, black!reader, barely a plot, like honestly just a thread of plot, angst, 

a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

This was not like Baby. At all.

Standing outside the apartment of a man she barely knew waiting to be buzzed into a building located in a neighborhood she wasn’t familiar with. She wasn’t sure what had come over her last week, she never gave her number out to random guys she met on the street. Let alone guys that bothered her during her morning run but there was something about this one guy that just seemed…. sweet. He wasn’t intrusive and didn’t even push for her to give him her number; she offered it up on a whim when he casually mentioned that it would be nice to see each other again.

There was always the possibility that him being so unassuming was all a part of his game to get her contact information but even the most cunning of men dropped the pretense once they felt safe. They kept in contact through text or phone calls for the better part of the week and not once had he given her any reason to doubt his intentions. It was nice to just talk to someone without the pressure of wondering where it was headed. The heavy buzzing of her date unlocking the entrance shook the young woman out of her musing and made her refocus her thoughts as she reached for the door. This was the first time they were meeting up in person since the morning they met and she was growing more nervous the closer she got to her date’s apartment door.

“110, this is it…” Baby’s soft voice muttered once she came to a stop. Her arm reached forward but paused just before her knuckles connected to the wood. She could hear music, muffled but still audible,  from behind the door and uncertainty made her stop for just a few seconds to contemplate whether she really wanted to do this. As nice as he was this man was still basically a stranger and now she was giving him control over her surroundings. Baby glanced over both her shoulders, making a mental note of any potential escape routes she could use if it came to that then thrust her arm forward to knock swiftly against the front door.

The ten seconds it took him to open the door seemed to creep by and Baby visibly flinched when the barrier swung in and her date for the evening appeared behind it. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of low hanging sweatpants with a dishrag thrown over his bare shoulder and clearly not prepared for her to arrive just yet.

“Baby?” He grinned, stressing the crinkles around his eyes when he looked down.

“Hey, Jungkook. Sorry I guess I’m a little early, I should have called first or something-” She blathered and fidgeted with the key chain attached to her small purse.

Jungkook shook his head and waved her forward “No, you’re good I was just finishing up dinner. Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Baby nodded and followed Jungkook as he stepped backward then deeper into his apartment. She followed his lead and removed her shoes at the front door, thankful she’d chosen to wear socks today. “So you cook shirtless? That would make an interesting show.” Baby commented and took a seat at one of the bar stools pushed against the kitchen island.

“Ah, no,” Jungkook laughed and shook his head “I spilled some sauce on my shirt… I’m soaking it so it won’t stain.”

“Wow,” Baby whistled and rested her chin in her palm “He cooks and does his own laundry? What horrible personality trait are you making up for?”

Jungkook only snickered and shook his head again “Nuh-uh, I gotta give you something to look forward to right?” He accompanied his teasing quip with a wink that made Baby blush and duck her head. “Let’s talk about you, how was your day?”

“Uhm, pretty good!” She perked up, “Work was crazy, but the office is always busy on Fridays. I was really excited when you texted me, I was going to spend my night on my couch watching VH1 with a bucket of ice cream.”

Jungkook smiled and gave the sauce he was heating a small stir, “Now you get to spend it on my couch with a home-cooked meal- Taste this.”  He blew gently to cool down the sauce then held out the wooden spoon in his hand towards Baby’s lips “It’s bolognese.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Baby hummed, licking her lips “Did you really make that yourself?”

He nodded and lowered the temperature of the stove, “Made, bought. It’s all the same thing” Jungkook shrugged with a hearty laugh as he backed away from the stove.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing but I’ll let you cook Jungkook.”  Baby chuckled and shook her head.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry anyway,” he shrugged and reached forward for Baby’s hand, making her flinch and recoil her hand just slightly. “Sorry, I ju- I thought-”

“No, no you’re okay I feel a little weird about this.” She replied quickly “I’m not sure what the protocol…like are we just hanging out? Or is this, like, a date? I don’t know how I should behave.”

Jungkook exhaled and nodded as if he was coming to his own realization. He didn’t reply to Baby’s questions and the suspense of his silence made her regret being so open. It was just like her to ruin something with unnecessary speculation. From the corner of her eye Baby’s could see Jungkook removing the washrag from his shoulder and dropping it to the counter in front of where Baby sat. He crossed over the kitchen island and in a few brief steps he was standing in front of Baby. With his knees, he swiveled the bar stool so that her back was against the counter. He placed a hand on either side of her body and leaned in close until their faces were inches apart. His warm breath fanned over the slope of her nose and across her plump cheeks, transferring warm waves of heat throughout her body. His left hand danced delicately up her forearm until the pads of his fingers smoothed across her skin and pressed against Baby’s neck and pulled her forward into his lips.

They were rougher than Baby had imagined but that did not stop his kiss from being soft and gentle, almost shy. He kept his hands pressed against her neck and nestled by her side, not moving an inch even when Baby parted her lips and sucked on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan in a guttural way that sent jolts of arousal straight to her core. She expected to push him away, to make some small effort at backing down when he first swaggered over and Baby realized this man who was still practically a stranger was actually going to kiss her. But this was… fun. Simple and fun and satisfying in a way that Baby hadn’t felt in a long time.

When Jungkook pulled away he traced the outline of Baby’s lips with his thumb and gave her a playful smirk “Do we need to label anything? Let’s just have fun tonight.”

In hindsight, this should have been Baby’s first red flag, Jungkook’s refusal to give her an actual answer. The way he silenced her concerns with a kiss that, as satisfying as it was, did nothing to set a firm boundary on exactly what they were doing from that point on. All of this might have come to Baby’s attention if she hadn’t been so busy admiring the way Jungkook’s pectoral muscles seemed to gleam in the moonlight and the fact that he was still standing with his body slotted between her legs and his thumb massaging circles into her neck.

“I like fun.”

Baby had all intentions of simply getting to know Jungkook a little better when she came over. They’d watch a movie, eat something maybe make out a little, but that was as far as she planned to go. That was all before Jungkook kissed her lips, then leaned back in to kiss her neck and massage her thighs. It was in the midst of all this that Baby decided that ignoring her better judgement and fucking the man she had barely known for a week would be much more fun. She wasn’t sure exactly when they’d moved from the kitchen to Jungkook’s couch. Somewhere between the failed attempted at eating the dinner he had prepared and a conversation about what they could watch on Netflix; their bodies became intertwined in a heated embrace with Baby straddling Jungkook’s waist and his hands holding onto to her ass for dear life.

Yes, this was definitely the right choice, Baby reaffirmed as he stroked her. His heavy, rough hands palmed her, teased her, sent shivers down her spine as Jungkook seemed to inadvertently make up for every lonely, frustrated night Baby spent in her tiny apartment. He was seasoned and concise, each action committed with the sole purpose of making Baby sigh and moan his name again and again. She shuddered as his teeth nibbled her breast, her breath shaking inside her lungs. She shifted in position just slightly, allowing her supple bronzed legs to feel the tensed muscles that made her panties grow damp.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” Baby sighed, feeling his fingertips gently explore her tender core. The feeling was much more intense than she remembered, having someone touch her in an such an intimate way. She was so wet, so hot and so eager to feel more than just his fingers gently caressing her folds. Jungkook chuckled, pulling his head up to look Baby in the eyes, his fingers never straying from her  pussy.

His fingers teased her before they moved underneath her dress to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of cotton. He pulled down the flimsy fabric, off her legs and over her feet, tossing the item to side and leaving her exposed before him, lean and achingly aroused. Baby watched as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his sweats, lowering them until his cock bobbed upwards against his abdomen. He moved quickly with a condom he seemed to pull out of thin air and sheathed himself before pulling Baby down to his lips once more.

“Are you going to let me fuck you, Baby?” He whispered, stealing the breath from her lungs. Baby’s eyes slid shut, and she arched forward, her toes curling as heat flushed throughout her body. She never dreamed she could be this aroused before. And then she felt his wide, firm hands on her hips, guiding and pulling her up and forward, until she felt him against her. She gazed down, watching his thick length hover beneath her, before Jungkook gently maneuvered her down onto him and touched her lips. Baby’s eyes fluttered, her thighs quaking as he pushed inside her eager cunt until their hips met.

Jungkook’s hands settled against her waist and on her hips, his teeth gritting as he looked down at where their bodies met. Her smooth brown skin glowed under the gleam of the moon, in such contrast to his much paler tone. He held her still, leaning back into the couch and watching her bite her lip as he eased in and out of her core. Her body rocked against him, her toes flexing and uncurling as she felt her wetness slip down her thighs and over Jungkook’s skin. Baby shut her eyes, her fingers digging deep into his shoulders in an attempt to hold back her rapidly approaching orgasm. She didn’t want to fall apart just yet, shaking and clenching him hard enough to maybe bring him over the edge with her.

Jungkook responded by nuzzling his nose against pulse before gingerly sinking his teeth into her skin. She groaned when his teeth bit down into her warm flesh, trying her best to keep her moans and whimpers quiet as his hips continued to thrust upwards inside her. Her head fell forward into the crook of his neck and she nipped at his neck as her hands moved upwards to lace into his hair.

She could barely catch her breath as he overwhelmed her with the sensations of his cock pumping into her, his hands groping her slender body and his tongue lapping at her neck to ease the pain.  “Fuck..” she moaned, her hips taking on a mind of their own and grinding down at a quicker pace against his.  “Jungkook… I can’t- I’m gonna come” she moaned breathlessly, her hips grinding down harshly.

His hips pistoned faster at her warning and Baby barely had seconds to adjust to the pace before she felt her tether on reality snap.  She whined sharply against his lips with each rough thrust, placing her forehead against his, her swollen clit throbbed against his slick shaft as her body ground into him. She gripped her hands tightly to the sides of his neck, meeting his eyes as her her body tensed and her orgasm erupted inside her, drenching every inch of his stiff length. She panted deeply against his lips, her heart slamming hard into her chest.

Jungkook stalled beneath her a few moments after, his mouth suckling on one of Baby’s nipples as he came,  groaning into her chest and smacking her bare ass with his large hands. She yelped and straightened her posture, the small jolt of pain bringing her back to her senses for the night. “I never do things like this…” Baby muttered with a slight laugh as she gently slid off Jungkook’s lap and onto his couch.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jungkook answered as he already began removing the spent condom from his appendage and readjusting himself into his sweatpants. Without another word he stood to his feet and disposed of the garbage then returned to where Baby was still seated. Crouching down on his haunches, Jungkook smiled and curled his fingers around chin and brought her forward to his lips again “I had a really good time tonight, Baby.”

“So did I,” she replied, curling her fingers around his hand.

“We should get together again sometime… I ordered you an Uber it should be here in a few minutes so take your time getting dressed.” He spoke so sweetly and calmly that Baby hardly even noticed that he was effectively kicking her out in the middle of the night after they’d just had sex for the first time.

“Oh! Right, okay… thank you.” She replied while refitting her clothes to their proper position.

“I’d invite you to stay, but I have work tomorrow morning and… well you know how it is.”

“I get it,” Baby nodded “We just met, there’s no need to rush into anything.”

Jungkook nodded and stood up when Baby did, helping her with one of her buttons before pulling her into his body by her waist and kissing her on the lips “We really should do this again sometime. I’ll call you?”

Baby nodded, her mind still hazy with lust as Jungkook guided her towards the door and kissed her again once she was out into the hallway. She was just a few feet away from his doorway when the thought finally hit her that he was really allowing her to leave. Even going so far as to call a car for her just in case she got the idea of staying over. That thought had naturally never crossed her mind. Even if it was late, there was no way she was going to spend the night in the apartment of a man she barely knew. The audacity of him to escort her out like she had any intention of staying annoyed Baby, so much so that she almost contemplated turning around to tell Jungkook just that.

Then she could hear her name being called and when she finally turned around Jungkook was jogging behind her and waving her down. He paused to catch his breath once he was close enough and beckoned Baby closer and closer until they were barely a few inches apart. Jungkook leaned down slowly and intentionally as if he was going to kiss her again but instead he leaned past her mouth and brushed his lips against her shell of her ear “You forgot something…” He accompanied his words with the action of slipping something into the top of Baby’s purse before pressing his lips against her cheek and heading back towards his apartment. Her brow furrowed for a moment until she reached into her purse and felt the familiar cotton fabric of her underwear becoming entangled in her fingers. Baby groaned and buried her face in the palms of her hands, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

This was not a mistake she planned on making again.

[coldlittlecuties]

Bundle Up

The boys are on an early season 1 hunt in Michigan but aren't quite used to how cold it is. (Words: 2086)

I might continue this if anyone is interested.

Dean shoved Sam through the entrance of the nearest store, the little bell above jingling. The younger hunter was shaking so harshly from the frigid Michigan air that Dean feared it was a seizure. He steered Sam over to the nearest vent, then began brushing off the snow while hot air blew over him.

"You okay?" Dean checked.

"F-F-FFF-F-Fi-Finnne," Sam stuttered.

"You're not fine, you're frozen! The Hell were you thinkin', man?!" Dean scolded. Sam looked at him with the most heart-wrenching puppy eyes he'd ever pulled. Of course him being all huddled up and shivery made it all the more effective.

Dean sighed. He brought his brother's icy hands out from his jacket sleeves to check for frostbite. "Look: I don't care how close you think the library is. When it's this freakin' cold, you call me to pick you up. You don't walk! Man, look at you! You better have all your toes."

"*fffffuhuhuhuhuh* N-N-NN-NN-No-ot th-th-that *buh-buh-buh-buh*bad," Sam denied. He then shuddered so hard Dean had to stop him from falling.

"Yeah, tell that to your teeth," Dean interrupted. "Geez, Sammy! If you're gonna be so underdressed, at least wear gloves."

"D-D-D-Do-on't ha-ha-avvve 'nnnny-y," Sam explained. Dean lightly smacked him upside his head.

"You should've said something! I told you we'd be close to Canada this hunt! Are these the warmest clothes you have?" He berated. Sam's lack of eye contact was all the answer Dean needed. He sighed, washing a hand over his face. "You trying kill me, Sammy?"

"Y-Y-You-u'd c-c-c-co-co-com*mmm*ee b-b-bb-back a-a-an *huhuhuh*haunt m-m-m-me."

"Damn right I'd haunt your ass," Dean smirked. "Now let's see if this place has anything to keep you from turning into the abominable snowman."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The brothers have stayed in some pretty awful places: motels that reek of cigar smoke, empty houses infested with pests, even outside on cold concrete if the situation was dire enough. This cabin might be their least favorite place. Sure it looked beautiful, was clean, and free from rodents or bugs, but it was not built for winter.

It's insulation is nonexistent, the windows are single paned which let the chill seep into the cabin, there is no fireplace, and no matter where they are, there is always a draft to send shivers up their spines. Dean was convinced that the cabin was colder than the snowy forest outside. He was tempted to sleep in the Impala, but since she was made of metal, she would be even colder (though he doubted it was possible for colder temperatures to exist).

Their father trained them to withstand cold temperatures and how to deal with cold weather emergencies. Dean kept trying to regulate his breathing like he was taught. Every inhale felt like a brain freeze to his sinuses, even inside! Despite all of this, Dean was still more worried for his brother.

Sam has never been very cold tolerant. His skinny body just didn't hold in enough heat. Living in the warmer climate of the Bay Area made him even less tolerant. Dean's stomach clenched at the memory of his baby brother shivering through cold weather training, his teeth clacking together so intensely that even their father allowed him to wear another layer. It was excruciating to see his little brother freezing without helping him.

This time wasn't cold training. This is one of the circumstances they trained for. Only this time, Dean won't sit idly by while Sammy freezes to death. He'll do whatever it takes to keep him warm. Whatever he did, he knew he'd have to do it quickly. Dean could already see his brother shaking from the cold, even in his new winter clothes.

"Why don't you go find some more blankets and I'll see if I can pump some heat into this place," Dean suggested. Sam nodded, rubbing his arms as he walked away. Dean examined the cabin, trying to find a thermostat or a furnace: anything. He nearly cheered when he found the water heater. All he had to do was relight the pilot light and... done! In an hour, it would be warm enough for a hot shower or two.

"D-D-Dean!" The older brother sprinted to where he heard Sam call. "We d-d-don't have p-p-p-p-power."

"Hang tight, Sammy! I'll try to find the generator. Stay here!" Dean ordered before running off. He checked the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, the bedrooms, the closets, even the bathroom. It must be outside. Dean rushed outside and around the perimeter of the cabin. Finally, he found the generator piled under a mountain of snow. His gloved hands made opening the control panel very difficult, but if he took them off, he'd lose fingers to frostbite. Dean's hopes fell when the door opened to reveal every piece either rusted or frozen.

"Sonovabitch...," he grumbled, slamming the door shut. Hopefully whatever they had in the Impala could help, just until they could drive back into town for supplies. Dean ruffled through the trunk, the hidden compartment, the interior: all he found were a few more scraps of clothing and a lighter. He sighed.

"Generator's busted. We'll pick up stuff to fix it tomorrow. I did find a few more gloves and socks though," Dean explained, shaking off the snow from his jacket before putting it back on again.

"Don't worry, Dean. The stove's gas powered with a full tank of propane. It's kinda cozy," Sam replied, holding his gloved hands close to the lit burner. Dean was glad Sam wasn't shivering anymore. He knew from experience that it made his muscles sore as Hell.

"You wanna roast marshmallows and chestnuts?" The older brother teased.

"I know you're joking, but I could seriously use some hot chocolate right about now," Sam smirked, rubbing his arms again.

"You said it. We should get some mix. And some milk! Watery hot chocolate is disgusting," Dean added.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After a couple of hours researching, Dean heated up a few cans of soup over the fire. It was getting dark, especially with the increasing snowfall. It wasn't too bad thanks to the candles they lit. They also provided some much needed warmth. Both boys divided the remaining clothes and blankets among themselves, Dean making sure Sam got whatever was warmest. His kid was bundled up in as many layers as he thought he could wear without Dean noticing. Of course, he did. But he wouldn't say anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched Sam blow into his gloved hands and bounce his legs. While waiting for the soup to warm up, he rifled through the cabinets in search of something that could help Sam. He found a few heat packs and even one of those aqua bead pouches that could be heated or cooled. There was also some tea and sugar. Dean started to heat another pot of water for the tea and to heat up the aqua pouch.

"*huh-huh'PSHH! h'NSHuuh! hih-GISHhuuh!*"

"Hey, Sammy. Why don't you take a break for a bit. Stretch thise freakishly long legs of yours," Dean suggested, hoping to lure his brother closer to the heat source.

Sam happily left the dining room chairs, taking the long route to the kitchen so he wouldn't be too obvious.

"*HISHhuuh! tchSHOO! Heh-hih-ihHSHSH!*"

"You getting sick?"

"No. My nose is just running 'cause it's cold in here. And my scarf tickles sometimes," Sam explained, hugging himself.

"Wanna try one of these hot pack things? They're suplosed to be for injuries but they advertise heat," Dean offered, already preparing a pack. Sam nodded, but Dean would've put the pack on him anyways. The younger hunter shuddered violently when his shirt was pulled up in the back. He felt the pack stick to him, then Dean let go of him.

As upset as Sam wanted to be with Dean for invading his personal space, the glorious warmth of the pack started to kick in. He sighed contentedly, almost purring, as it helped his shivery muscles loosen.

"It's so warm," he thought aloud.

"That's why it's called a hot pack, Sammy. Here, eat up," Dean explained as he handed Sam a bowl of soup. The brothers stood by the stove as they ate the soup and drank the tea. Both were savoring the warmth from the dishes as well as their contents.

"You think you're gonna be warm enough, tonight Sammy?" Dean checked, handing him the warmed aqua pouch.

"Yeah, I'm good. What about you, though?" Sam worried.

"I'm too hot to freeze!"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Dean let out another shuddery breath as a chill wracked him. He tried to curl himself into a tighter ball, but it wasn't helping. The hunter was so cold he couldn't stop shivering. His teeth kept making that annoying chattering sound no matter how much he wrapped himself in the blankets. He even used some spare towels from the closets!

"S-S-S-S-Sa-ammmy's w-ww-wwarm-m-m," Dean kept telling himself. "*huhuhuh*He's wwwwa-warm a-a-and s-s-s-s-sa*fffff*fe." He then shivered so hard it rocked the bed. Dean was wearing every piece of clothing he could. Everything else (minus the Fed Suit) was mingled in with the towels and covers. How was he still this cold?!

Finally fed up with turning into a popsicle, Dean eased himself out of the blankets to stand by the stove for a while. He was amazed to feel how much colder the room was outside of his cocoon. All his shivering reminded him to check on Sam. Dean shuffled around the corner and into the kitchen. He turned on the gas for the stove, but couldn't work the lighter with his gloves. He took them off then shuddered impossibly harder.

He dropped his lighter with a loud *THUNK!*. Dean winced, hoping the noise didn't wake his little brother. He decided to turn off the gas until he could find another way to light the stove. No sense in poisoning them both. While he waited for an idea to come, he saw one of the hot packs on the counter. Dean took off his gloves on the other hand so he could open their package. But he was shaking too much to properly grasp it.

"I knew it!"

Dean whipped around as Sam came out of his room with a blanket wrapped around him.

"You lecture me about the importance of of staying warm and wearing plenty of layers while you go and do the exact opposite!"

"M'f-f-ff-fi-ine S-S-S-Sam," Dean assured.

"You're not fine, you're frozen!" Sam echoed, wrapping the blanket around his brother. He grabbed the dropped lighter, then lit the front burners. Dean gave a shuddery sigh as he felt the warmth and held his palms out.

"Here: put these back on." Sam watched Dean struggle to put the gloves on for a few seconds before doing it himself. Dean looked away as he huddled into the blanket. Sam opened the hot pack and slipped it onto his brother's back before he had a chance to protest.

"Why didn't you tell me you were freezing? I could've added more layers and given you more blankets!" Sam demanded, preparing a pot of water for tea.

"Y-Y-Y-You wwwere *cuh-cuh-cuh*co-old a-all ddday," Dean explained.

"And you've been freezing all night. Maybe even longer!"

"*muh-muh-muh-muh*my-y j-j-jjjob-b... p-p-p-prot-tect y-y-yo-ou...."

"What's my job then? Sit around all warm and cozy while my big brother freezes to death? I can deal with being cold. I can't deal with losing you too." Sam looked away and took a breath to compose himself.

"S-S-Sam-m-my?"

"I'm fine!"

Dean unhuddled from the blanket so he could pull his brother into a hug. Sam burried his face in Dean's shoulder as he relaxed into the embrace.

"S'ok-k-kay S-Sammy. I-I'm g-g-getting warm-m-mer nno-ow. M-M-M'ok-k-k-kay."

Sam nodded into his shoulder. Dean's shivering slowed to a stop after a few minutes. Neither brother was willing to let go of the other just yet.

"You wanna try to sleep a bit more?" Sam offered, suppressing a yawn. "You can stay in my room 'cause it's warm."

"Yeah. Let's get'cha to bed, Sammy," Dean chuckled. Reluctantly, they let go to walk into Sam's room. They crawled under the covers on opposite sides of the bed, but they ended up gravitating towards each other. Their chilly and sleepy minds only registered the soft warmth and the presence of his brother.

Sam was snuggled up against Dean's chest, his head tucked right under the older hunter's chin. Dean wrapped his arms around his kid and nuzzled his soft hair. That was how they fell asleep: warm, cozy, and protected.

[thwip--thwip]

5, 12, and 44 😈 ILU

Did you used to get things as a child when you screamed? I’ll let you know right now that it’s not going to help you here.

You’re in a well? Is it more like the Buffalo Bill one or the Samara one?

This joke goes beyond practical and far into sadistic territory. 

This…got out of control so fast. Enjoy your 2.5k O:

Tony has to admit, this wasn’t how he saw his day going.

Things had been going just fine, business-as-usual; he had taken Peter Christmas shopping, which was no small affair. Normally, Tony wouldn’t be braving the veritable throngs of wailing children and exhausted parents just for a 20% deal on a pair of socks (seriously? 20% was the best they could do?), but when he’d said as much with an offhand quip about shopping online, Peter had regarded him more seriously than he’d anticipated.

“Christmas gifts need to come from the heart, Mr. Stark.”

How a blender you bought at Macy’s had more heart than a blender you bought online, Tony didn’t know (maybe it had something to do with the number of people you had to elbow out of the way?), but he also thinks it’s because Peter is insistent on spending his own money. Tony would much rather the kid use it to take his girlfriend out (he’d come back from the disaster of a trip with a girlfriend, and while it wasn’t quite worth the panic and terror of watching Spiderman take down a madman in a literal London blitz, Tony had to admit, Peter was being adorable about the whole thing).

Regardless, they’re perusing through the JCPenny perfume section (Tony told him not to buy MJ a fragrance, but did Peter listen? It looks like he might, though, because so far he hasn’t liked any of the scents, nose wrinkling more and more with each spritz) when everything goes to hell.

Peter cringes a full two seconds before the first explosion hits, tackling Tony out of the way as the storefront windows blow out. They land hard, skidding across the tile until Peter stops them by a clearance rack. The kid’s already up on one knee, and he makes eye contact with Tony for the briefest instant before he’s up and running for the dressing rooms.

“Kid - “ Tony starts, but Peter’s already gone. Spiderman swings out not three seconds later (was he wearing the suit under his clothes), launching himself into the mall proper.

Tony doesn’t have the suit. Tony doesn’t have the suit. He knew something like this was likely to happen eventually - he still has his watch, a few tricks on the new prosthetic arm he’s wearing - but his heart can’t take the kind of stress the Iron Man suit requires. It’s the first time he’s been caught in a situation like this since Thanos, and it’s panic-inducing, dizzyingly so - especially when Peter jumps right into action with no back-up.

Tony swallows down the tightness in his chest (no panic attack, not right now, chill the fuck out) and gets his feet under him, heading towards the chaos. People are running for cover, screaming - Santa bolts towards the FYE, beard flying off and landing somewhere on the floor behind him.

“Gobby, we talked about this!” Peter sails overhead, swinging around a column and trying to kick the Green Goblin off his glider. He aborts the move at the last second, while the Goblin swings at him with what looks like a sword. “Do you want to make the naughty list three years in a row?”

Gobby cackles in a way that makes the hair on Tony’s remaining arm stand up on end, gnashing his teeth, and he zooms after Peter, launching another handful of pumpkin bombs at the kid.

There’s a man throwing bombs at his kid.

“FRIDAY, get us some back-up here,” Tony instructs the AI through his watch, though he’s sure she’s already put in the necessary calls. It still doesn’t make it any easier, watching Peter dance and dodge out of the Goblin’s way (barely, barely, every time is a razor’s edge to pure disaster). Tony moves to help a few people up off the ground, keeping an eye on the fight the whole time - the atrium is nearly empty, thankfully, shoppers having dashed for the cover of the stores.

Another bomb goes off - this time, part of the ceiling goes with it. A sizeable chunk hits Peter as he’s trying to swing away from it, and sends him sprawling. It’s not enough to seriously hurt him (Tony doesn’t think), but it still makes his heart leap up into his throat. Either way, the second of distraction is all it takes for Goblin to end up on top of him.

“I’ve got you now, little spider,” Goblin snarls, one hand wrapped around Peter’s throat, and Tony sees red.

“Hey douchecanoe!” Tony yells, drawing attention to himself. The man’s head snaps up, crazed eyes zeroing in on Tony. “Yeah, I’m talking to you!”

“Mr. Stark - “ Peter starts with a cough, but Goblin is already laughing again - crazily, maddeningly, and Tony doesn’t even have enough time to react. Peter goes flying - Goblin throws him through the Urban Outfitters window in an ostentatious display of broken glass and hipster scarves - and the villain is on Tony in the next instant.

“Hello Mr. Stark,” Goblin giggles, grabbing him bodily and zooming upwards, towards the caved in part of the ceiling. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Tony tries to activate his watch so he can blast this asshole to kingdom come, but the Goblin’s fist comes down on his face, and Tony’s world is enveloped in swift darkness.

***

He wakes up to screaming.

“LET ME OUT! HEY! LET ME OUT!”

Tony groans and winces as he opens his eyes - at least it’s relatively dark, so he doesn’t have to worry about light fucking with his probably-a-concussion - but jesus, the screams are loud and panicked. Whoever it is doesn’t seem to have noticed Tony’s awake just yet, yelling upwards towards -

Huh. They’re in some kind of a hole, which looks to be too deep to climb out of. Great.

“Did you used to get things as a child when you screamed?” Tony grumbles, and the yells cut off abruptly as the person turns to look at him, startled. “I’ll let you know right now, that’s not going to help here.”

“You’re - holy shit, you’re Tony Stark.” His vision focuses in on his fellow prisoner - he looks like he’s Peter’s age, maybe, with thickset eyebrows and curly, dark hair. Tony pushes himself up into a sitting position, back to the (damp) wall, and he bites back another wince when he touches the tender spot on the back of his head, and his hand comes away bloody. Great.

“The one and only. And you are?” Tony glances down at his watch, which is still on his wrist. Goblin, what a dumbfuck - or probably just overly cocky, the prick. He pulls up the hologram and starts executing commands to find out where he is, and to alert the appropriate people.

“Flash, uh, sir. Flash Thompson.” Flash stutters, and Tony spares a second to look at him dubiously (what? Comedic timing waits for no Goblin-related-emergency.)

“Seriously?” Flash nods, eyes wide, and Tony frowns. The name is a) stupid, but b) sounds oddly familiar. His attention is diverted by a chirp from his watch - a location lock, distress signal sent. They’ll be out of here in no time at all. “Well…citizen, no need to worry. Help is on the - Christ.”

There’s an incoming call from SPIDERMAN flashing on the watch’s projection, and Tony pulls it up, careful to hit audio only. “Talk to me, kid.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s relief pitches his voice high, almost a little shrill, coming through the speakers, and Tony dials it down a notch on the volume. “Oh my God, you’re alive!”

“Thought you could get rid of me that easily? I’m disappointed, I thought I taught you better than that.” Tony barely resists the urge to smile when that comment gets a relieved laugh out of Peter, which echoes against the walls of their pit. He’s too aware of his audience, though - Flash, staring at him from the corner - so he tries not to let the worry seep through too much. “Are you okay?”  

“Me? I’m fine,” Peter rushes out, as if the last time Tony saw him, he hadn’t had Goblin’s fingers wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. “Are you okay? He turned on his cloaking tech before I could get after you.”

“I’m fine.” Peter made a skeptical noise at the back of his throat, and Tony bit his tongue to stop from bantering with him - one dubious look at Flash kept it under wraps (the kid wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant interest). “You’ve got my location lock?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, but even without seeing him, Peter must have known what he was going to say because he hurried to continue. “Falcon is en route, but I’m closer.”

“Just be careful,” Tony grumbles to himself, concealing a wince when he rubs at the back of his head. “Could be a trap. He’s got us in a well.”

“Sorry,” Tony can hear the shit-eating grin in Peter’s voice and he closes his eyes so he doesn’t roll them up to the heavens. “Did you just say you’re in a well?”

“Yes I did, and I’d very much appreciate it if I wasn’t anymore.” It’s the closest Tony can get to threatening; Flash looks like he’s about to wet himself with excitement, and the starstruck novelty is beginning to wear off.

“Is it more like the Buffalo Bill well or the Samara well?” Yet again, Tony has to bite his tongue before he can ask what the hell are you doing watching Silence of the Lambs, you’re eleven. All of this holding back is just stockpiling for later. “It rubs the lotion on it’s skin - ”

“Is that Spiderman?” Flash whispers, way too loudly, inching closer. Tony fixes him with his second most intimidating stare, but the kid must be brave (or just stupid), because he’s insistent. “I’m his number one fan.”

“Mr. Stark? Is there someone there with you?”

“Yeah, Gobby’s got a kid here - why are you here, anyway?” A detail he skipped over before, but what is Flash to the Green Goblin? Flash puffs out his chest, looking far too proud.

“I’m Spiderman’s biggest fan! Spiderman - I’m your biggest fan!”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Peter sounds confused, and Tony’s kind of starting to wish he hadn’t woken up. Unconsciousness is pretty blissful, turns out. “Maybe Gobby got jealous. He’s always wanted to be president of my fanclub.”

“You have a fanclub?” Flash says - no, demands - in a way that suggests ‘Spiderman Fan Club’ will be the first thing he Googles as soon as they’re out of this hole. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose - this joke has moved swiftly beyond ‘practical’ and is making a play as far into ‘sadistic’ as possible. Then again, what was Tony expecting from a shopping trip with Peter?

“Shit.” Peter says, half a second before an explosion ends their phone call. Tony doesn’t even have time to react, because the reverberations from said explosion shake the entire well (hole? pit?), and Flash starts screaming again.

“HELP, SOMEBODY HELP! SPIDERMAN HELP ME!”

Flash gets his wish - a web comes out of nowhere and latches onto Flash’s shirt, and the kid is gone before Tony can blink. He starts to stand up, words already forming. “Don’t you dare - “

“Yoink!” Tony’s flying upwards before he can finish the sentence, which he leaves half-formed somewhere at the bottom of the stupid well (along with his stomach). Tony grabs on for dear life, and Peter catches him around the waist, hoisting him under one arm.

“I hate that you said ‘yoink’ out loud. Absolutely disgusting.” Tony feels his stomach swoop as Peter swings them over a mountain of debris and out an opening Tony is very sure they won’t fit through - but somehow, they manage. “Where’s our friend?”

“Who, Flash?” Peter doesn’t sound winded at all, even though they’re booking it down the street, arcing into the next side street. “I tossed him to Falcon.”

“You know that kid?” Suddenly, it clicks. “Wait, that was the shithead whose been giving you a hard time?”

“Aw, man.” Peter groans, torquing them in another direction. “I never should have introduced you to Ned.”

“What - Peter! I wasn’t even - I wanted to know where the Goblin was!”

An explosion that is far too close for comfort answers that question for him, and Peter lets out a yelp as they execute a nausea-inducing maneuver to dodge out of Gobby’s way. Tony hears the high-pitched laughter behind them, and Peter switches Tony to his other arm as he tries to get away.

“I have had enough of this chucklefuck,” Tony growls, and he’s serious. Between the Midtown housewives elbowing them out of the way of the sale racks and Goblin dropping him in the bottom of a well, he’s fed up with today. “Peter. Throw me at him.”

“What?” Goblin throws another pumpkin bomb, and Tony can’t even feel whether or not it singes over how angry he is. “What do you mean throw you at him?”

“I meant what I said, and I said what I meant.” Tony clenches and unclenches his metal fist; he might not be Iron Man anymore, but he’s not dead.

“An elephant’s faithful, one hundred percent.” Peter finishes with a snicker, because of course Tony couldn’t sneak anything by him. “You just want me to chuck you?”

“With a little more precision, yeah. Throw me at him, and when I get him off that knockoff hoverboard, catch me.” Peter only hesitates a half a second before he nods, directing them into a wide arc as he swings back around to face the Goblin. Goblin is behind them, swerving jerkily in the air, in all his teeth-gnashing glory, and Tony curls his hand into a fist.

“One, two - “ Peter throws him on three, and Tony has the satisfaction of watching Goblin’s eyes widen in surprise for the briefest instant - because who would suspect Tony using himself as a projectile, truly? He tries to swerve out of the way, but Tony grabs the end of his hoverboard and yanks, throwing him off balance.

Goblin snarls, blade extending so he can jab down at Tony with it, but it’s too late. Tony lets an electrical charge loose from his prosthesis, shutting the glider down and tasing the fuck out of the Goblin. He buckles, and the glider starts to crash - Tony bails, letting go and free-falling towards the concrete at an alarming speed.

But then there’s the familiar yank of webbing attaching to his shirt, and in the fight against gravity, Peter wins. He changes Tony’s momentum, swinging him upwards like he’s trying to do goddamn yo-yo trick.

“Next year,” Tony wraps an exhausted arm over the kid’s shoulders as Peter tucks him under his arm like a football. He’s still wired from the adrenaline, muscles trembling slightly. “Everybody you know is getting gift cards.”

“Who doesn’t enjoy a good holiday rush?” Peter says, and Tony can hear the smirk in his voice. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Gift cards, Peter. Gift cards.”

[chimbbles]

anybody ever thinks about doctor!hendery? because that’s the first thing that popped into my mind the second I saw him

T/W: mentions of blood, and I'm sorry I keep bringing up tetanus I don't mean to mock it or anything

it wasn’t a big deal, but the constant ringing in your head was getting harder to differentiate between a migraine and your incessant worries building up

days ago you were fixing up a shelf from ikea, your roommate having suggested you guys get a proper apparatus to house your various clutters

both of you went at it for the whole night, after coming home from a long day’s worth of work and neither of you denied the tiny spark of regret for getting something you can’t really handle at 1am in the morning

at last, the cheap metal frame is up, a job well done rewarded by crashing into the couch and dozing off right there

morning came and the shelf was thoroughly forgotten, even with its huge size propped right in front you

the effect of the iconic, “I’m late for work”

throwing yourself off the couch you ignored your hard work and skidded past absentmindedly, until it reminded you with a nasty gash in the shower

if your pinky toe was stinging in the water, it felt way worse when soap ran down your body

you had to stop and check, clenching your teeth at the act of rinsing off the soap to get a good look, and voila 

a fresh cut just below your cuticle, long and crimson till it reaches the joint

you definitely don’t have time for this

so you slap on some antibacterial cream, stick on a band-aid and call it class one first aid with 5 minutes till work starts

the day was: bad

not only you had to run, your shoes covered your wounded toe and you honestly doubt it does more to protect rather than harm it

your boss was obviously not impressed, and you’re stuck with a self appointed adult detention with a foul, cold sandwich titled gruesome lunch; at the set venue of your cubicle

having been reminded by the constant ache on your toe, you made it a point to text your roommate, informing them you two had built a death machine

they, however, took the joke a little too literally, and from the moment after lunch, they kept texting you to get it checked out

“what if it’s tetanus?”

“you could die from an infection!”

“are you sure the cream isn’t expired?”

“did you apply it properly”

“get it checked out you might be at risk”

and that’s why you’re here man no pun intended

where once again, things weren’t this serious, and were blew out of proportion

your self appointed detention unfortunately lasted for days, long as your boss was happy, and your punishment was a huge project with a short deadline

you pulled overtime for a straight 3 days now, and the projects almost there, just one day left

the all-nighter you suffered through proved efficient when you finished the project at near 5am in the morning, rumours of company ghosts no longer scare you when you roam amongst them as a comrad 

your zombified limbs pack up by themselves, brain too damaged from the cups of coffee chugged down your throat at the ungodly hours

your roommate’s nagging makes its appearance again, buzzing through your brain like a broken record

“you could have tetanus, it’s metal!”

you remember there’s a hospital on the route back home, so why not? staying up longer it doesn’t quite matter at this point

the reception desk threw a fit when they heard you connect the words ‘tetanus’ and ‘a few days ago’

that’s how you end up in line at the ER, instead of the intended clinic visit

it’s eerily chilly, with the bland white walls staring back at you

without you knowing it; the whirring of the busy machines and clinking of metal appliances lulls your tired figure to sleep, head leaning back and mouth open in a silent snore

“oh my goodness they blacked out”

“we need help here!”

within seconds your body was hauled onto a stretcher and pulled away in a whim, straight into a private room with an unsuspecting doctor

“came in saying they might have tetanus and the wound’s a few days old. ER’s full from a car crash and they just blacked out in the hall,”

“temperature’s rising, I think the fever started to set in, if you could take a look first dr.wong-”

“sure, sure”

‘dr.wong’ rounds the edge of his table to plant himself beside you, and you think the only regret you don’t have for the night is seeing his handsome face

he reads the thermometer before plucking the pen lodged at the opening of his white coat,

“okay, I need you to focus on this pen, follow it with your eyes, alright?”

of course he doesn’t wait for your agreement before waving the pen in front of you, and your slow brain can’t receive stimuli that well while it’s raving on caffeine 

“I’m getting slow response, fetch the vaccine now,”

one of the nurses hurriedly leaves the room, leaving one to stay and help the doctor,

he picks up the stethoscope from his desk and plugs the two ends into his ears, “alright, I need you to breathe for me,”

“and check the wound, please”

the nurse nods and springs into action, and your brain-- finally-- comes back to life

your grab the hand that’s holding the metal plate with both of yours, surprising him and making him go wide-eyed

but what do you say???

it could be tetanus but you don’t feel unwell at all, and you really, really don’t want a pissed off nurse to glare at you for the false alarm

also, you don’t want anyone to look at your ugly toes

“are you okay? does it hurt?”

the nurse stops taking off your shoe at the mention of pain, and waits for further instructions from the doctor

you bite down the embarrassment for your lame excuse, and gesture roughly to your throat, “....water”

they both share a concerned look, before the nurse moves and heads towards the door with a “I’ll be right back doctor”

now that you’re left with him alone, you feel less anxious about the whole situation, and sit up properly to talk to him

“I don’t have tetanus,”

you can see him processing your words before he lets out a hearty chuckle, “having tetanus isn’t illegal or contagious, we won’t throw you in quarantine,”

“no, no, I told them I don’t think it’s tetanus, it’s merely a cut from metal-- yes, but it’s not infected or anything, I just came here for a confirmation,”

he pauses to mull over your words, before taking off your shoe and tugging at your socks,

“I’m fine, really, I think this was a mistake-”

your socks successfully comes off, and he’s tentatively ripping your band-aid off, trying not to provoke the wound any further

when the wrapping comes off, he’s not too impressed by his present, which you think he fully expects a nasty, nasty wound, with yellow mucus oozing out from the opening and rotten flesh scent-- instead of a clean, clear, thread sized cut

“and I didn’t black out, I’m just very tired and the coffee’s not helping,”

he looks up from your foot and seems so confused, so you do him a favour to explain at the best your brain allows you to

by the time the nurse is back, you two had ran through a quick summary of your activities for the past few days, and her cup of water is the perfect solution to a real, dry throat

“patient does not have tetanus, a false alarm, but they’re still gonna require a shot, just in case,”

he gestures to your foot and she looks fairly annoyed, but says nothing at the presence of a doctor

she excuses herself to help out outside, and dr.wong sits back at his desk to wait for the vaccine, while you lay your head down to rest

“I think she hates me,”

he laughs, “nah, we just haven’t had a tetanus case in a while, I think she got too worked up,”

the other nurse comes back with your vaccine, and helps clean up your arm for the injection, “you’re not scared of needles, are you?”

you can taste the amusement in the air, tension lifted and light in the air thanks to his teasing, “patient does not have an infection, but is taking a shot for proper measures, and the high body temp is caused from lack of sleep for days, and a slightly inflamed liver, does not require further care, but a follow up is needed in a month’s time,”

the nurse scribbles your prescription while he stabs your arm with the long needle, and you try your best not to panic

after the nurse leaves the room, you two are left alone once again, and the ambiguous question hangs in the air, “am I allowed to leave now?”

he peers up from his book, “yes, but it’s 5:37am now, and my shift ends at 6; if you could stay a bit longer,” he trails off,

he senses your confusion and hurriedly explains himself, “I’m trying to avoid having breakfast with someone, and I’m no longer needed for emergency cases, it would be nice to have some peace and quiet,”

“you could take a nap-- I’ll wake you at 6,”

“can you put in a good word for me with the nurses?”

“deal.”

“can we eat breakfast too?” words kind of jumbled up from your fatigue

he takes a bit longer to respond, and by the time he does, you don’t hear it-- having already fallen asleep on the white stretcher,

“sure, that’ll be nice.”

[voyager-into-the-unknown]

This is my December 27th contribution for the Pikelavar Winter Event. You can find this fic and several others that I have written on AO3.

“All I Want for Midwinter is Meklavar” by PlanceGardener21

❄️ ❄️ Chapter 2–Snow ❄️ ❄️

Pike trudged miserably through snow drifts, his face half-hidden by his long red scarf. He looked behind him and saw that Meklavar was having trouble keeping up with his longer strides. The snow was piling higher by the minute, and he feared that if they stayed out in the snowstorm any longer they would both freeze to death.

“W-we’re n-nearly there,” she told him. Her teeth were chattering. In the distance, Pike saw the little abandoned cabin high on a hill at the edge of the woods that Block had told them about. It was small and dark, but the roof was still intact, and the walls would provide relief from the cold wind that cut through his lightweight clothing like daggers of ice.

“Firewood,” said Pike as they neared the front door. They gathered as many logs as they could carry from the woodpile near the entrance and brought them inside, then barred the door against the howling wind. Pike looked around after he set down his armful of logs. There was a fireplace, numerous cooking pans and utensils, a table and chairs, a small washtub, a couple of chamber pots, and a small bed covered with a faded quilt. “Cozy,” he said with a grin.

“It won’t be until we get that fire started. Come on.” Meklavar already had her logs stacked neatly in the fireplace, and had set her traveling pack down near the hearth.

“I think there’s enough there for a pretty good blaze,” Pike said as he moved his own logs over to the remains of a small stack of firewood near the wall. “We can use these later, when the fire dies down.” He set is own pack down and started rummaging in it. Mek had her flint and tinder out and busied herself with starting the fire while Pike found them something to eat in his pack.

“We have dried beef, cheese, bread, and some nuts and berries left. But we are low on water.”

“Melt some snow for later, then,” she said.

Pike gathered a few of the pots and jugs that looked clean enough, then teleported back outside to fill them with fresh snow, then set them on the hearth to melt. Mek had her helmet off and was removing her armor. Even her black under suit was soaked from the melting snow, and she was violently shivering.

“You’d better get out of those wet clothes,” Pike advised.

“I’m trying. Could you turn the other way, please?” Mek gone through her pack and had laid out clean socks and rather delicate feminine-looking undergarments along with her heavy woolen sleeping tunic.

Pike felt his cheeks grow warmer, but not from the fireplace. “I won’t peek,” he said as he turned his back to her. “I’m changing out of my wet clothes too.” He found his warmest sleeping shirt and pants at the bottom of his pack, then began to strip off his wet clothes.

“Are you finished changing?” she asked.

Pike bristled. “N-no, not yet,” he said. At the moment he was completely naked and trying to scramble into clean underwear. “Just a moment, please.” He hurriedly slipped on his warm sleeping pants, and had to wriggle about to get his tail through the proper opening. He could hear her running a comb through her short hair on the opposite side of the room. He knew that Mek hated having matted helmet hair. “I’m done,” he announced right after he had pulled his shirt over his head. She padded over towards the fireplace to arrange her wet clothing on the floor in front of the hearth to dry, and then Pike did the same.

“Did you see anything we can use as a clothesline?” She asked.

“No, but let’s have a look around.” They began to search the cabin. A few minutes later Pike found a long tightly woven cord that they could tie across the room. He set about hanging up a makeshift clothesline in front of the fireplace, then hanging up their outer garments upon it. Meklavar had snatched away her discarded socks and underwear, and his as well, much to his embarrassment.

“These need to be washed,” she explained. She began heating some of the melted snow and searching her pack for a laundry bar. When she had found it, she made use of the washtub and began scrubbing away at their dirty underclothes.

“I could do that myself,” he said, embarrassed that she was washing his underpants.

“I don’t mind. I need some cool water for rinsing though.”

Pike fetched that for her. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“See what provisions I have left in my pack. We should inventory our food supplies.” She was rinsing and wringing out their things, then arranging them on their makeshift clothesline. She washed and rinsed their outer garments last, then hung them up once more.

“Time for supper,” he announced. Pike had found some more provisions in her pack, and together they determined that they could last a few days if they didn’t overeat. Mek searched the cabin’s assortment of odds and ends and soon found a tea kettle and two chipped mugs. Since she had the foresight to bring along a large packet of herbs and tea leaves, she set about brewing them each a cup of hot minty tea. They sat at the little table near the hearth and nibbled upon bread and cheese, salted nuts, and jerky. The berries made an excellent dessert, and the tea warmed their insides as the heat from the fireplace warmed them from the outside. It was cozy indeed. It felt...domestic, as if they were a young couple getting used to their first shared dwelling place. Pike smiled dreamily at the thought of having her as his life partner. He wondered if she ever thought about settling down someday.

“I’m so glad Block told us about this place,” she said, her elfin features illuminated by the crackling firelight.

“Yeah. I didn’t think we were going to last much longer in that storm. We might have frozen to death.” He sipped his drink. “This tea is so good, Mek.”

“Thanks.” She had brought a parchment scroll to the table along with the tea, and now she finally unrolled it, then set the plates and mugs at the four corners of the scroll to make it lie flat. It was a map of the rugged terrain they must traverse to reach Block’s village, where they would soon be heading with the intention of attending the midwinter festival. Block had invited them, along with the mystical archer Valayun, Jiro the Paladin, and Thunder the half-elf to stay at his home during the days of the famed and much-anticipated event. All quests in the land of Aurita were put aside during midwinter, for there would be gift giving, spectacles, and holiday feasting during the days of the celebration. The two adventurers studied the map for a time, trying to figure out the most practical route through the frozen terrain. When they had determined their best course through the woods and mountains, Pike yawned.

“Sleepy?” Mek asked, her beautiful golden brown eyes reflecting the light of the fire.

“I can curl up by the hearth so you can have the bed.” Pike may have been a thief and a rogue, but he was a gentleman as far as ladies were concerned.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing.” Meklavar’s cheeks were pink, and not just from windburn. Pike’s eyes widened and his face grew warm. His heart was racing, and his tail stiffened.

“Uh...” he wasn’t sure what to say next. What was she implying by this? He didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“I mean, shared body heat is the best way to keep warm. I’m simply being practical about this.” She averted her gaze. Her soft tawny hair was in damp curls that framed her pink-cheeked elfin face. Pike had never seen her look more adorable. He thought about how nice it would be to snuggle up against her soft little body under the warm quilt. He was so enthralled by the notion that he nearly started purring.

“Okay!” He practically lept across the room and began peeling back the layers of quilts and blankets and fluffing the pillows while Meklavar was clearing the table and putting away her map. When she approached the bed, Pike was already under the covers. He was stretched out to his full length, laying on his right side and leaning on one elbow, grinning triumphantly, like a cat that had caught a particularly juicy mouse. He winked at her.

Meklavar stood staring at him wide-eyed, rooted to the spot. He was wondering if she was afraid of him or suddenly regretting her decision to invite him to share the bed with her.

“Come on, Mek. It’s freezing. I promise I’ll behave.”

She slowly approached the bed, climbed under the covers with him, and then shivered a little, and Pike began to wonder if it wasn’t just from the cold. He lay on his side facing her. “Is it okay if we cuddle?” He asked softly.

“It’s okay,” she said in a quivering, breathy voice.

He nuzzled her chest and wrapped his long arms around her, sighing with contentment. She stroked his furry head as he lay upon her soft bosom and, much to his embarrassment, he began to purr. She giggled.

“Sorry...I can’t help it when I—“

She continued stroking his soft fur. “I think it’s cute,” she confessed, sleepily. “And so are you, Pike.”

Pike felt his heart racing again. Was she flirting with him? He suddenly felt warm all over. Her words gave him the courage to say what he had been thinking about out loud. “I think you’re cute, too...for a dwarf.”

“For a dwarf? What’s that supposed to mean?” She sounded a little offended.

“Not enough fur,” he teased.

“Ugh. I’m not going to give up my personal grooming habits just for you.”

Pike chuckled. “You wax your legs.”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“They’re so smooth,” he said, as he rubbed her right leg under the covers.

“Pike,” she began, angrily.

“Okay, don’t get upset, Mek. I’ll behave. I promised. Remember?” He lifted his head from her chest to look at her for a moment, and he saw how much she was blushing. He gazed wistfully at her, wondering if that meant she felt the same as he did. She rolled away from him to lay on her side, turning her face away from him, and rearranged her sleeping tunic which had ridden up during Pike’s explorations.

“I’m sorry, Mek. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s all right. Go to sleep now, Pike.”

“I think you have nice legs.”

“Pike—“

He sighed. “I’ll be quiet. You still want to cuddle, right? I mean, we have to stay warm.”

“You can put your arms around me if you want to, as long as your hands don’t start wandering. I have an axe, you know.” She said in a low voice.

Pike’s tail bristled. “I’ll behave.” His voice cracked, betraying his fear. It was best to take her threats seriously. After all, he didn’t want to lose an appendage. As he lay on his side, he carefully slipped an arm around her waist, to spoon with her. “Is this okay?”

She sighed. “It is. Now go to sleep.” He pressed the length of his body against hers, enveloping her in his warmth. Her breathing slowed as she drifted off to the sound of Pike purring in her ear.

@pikelavarforest @defendersofaurita @anchoredtether

[brightemeraldazuredepths]

How it came to be - closed

@brokcnpride

His management was going to bitch at him so hard, but goddamn it, his photoshoot was over and he didn't have anything major scheduled for a week. So he'll be damned if he's going to be stopped now. 

What was he doing exactly?

Getting some motherfuckin’ convenience store chicken.

Eating good quality food was awesome, don’t get him wrong, but god sometimes bento boxes and onigiri from the convenience store near his apartment were absolutely divine. So he was currently on his way home, plastic bag in hand and humming happily with his prize. His apartment was only a couple blocks away, and he couldn’t wait.

Unfortunately, his excitement and the hop in his step were extremely short-lived.

Hearing shouting coming from an alleyway nearby, he slowed his steps. Immediately pulling out his phone, he walked back a few paces and called the cops. Considering he was a fucking model celebrity, when he mentioned who he was and that there was a disturbance near his home, he knew as he hung up that there’d be police in very short order.

Normally, he’d leave it at that and take a different route home. He didn’t get into fights, though he did know how to because of the self-defense classes he took growing up and occasionally for a refresher. Creeping towards the edge of the alleyway, he set down his bag as quietly as he could. 

Apparently, whoever was int here were yelling about how one of them crossed a line, or about how they’re a backstabbing little bitch, how they talk the talk but can’t fight the fight, basic shit like that. Nothing he hadn’t heard in a movie, it was so weird, almost cliche.

That was when he heard the sound of someone getting punched. It was a sickening sound. Fuck. This was really going down, wasn’t it?! 

More punching noises, and he hoped the distraction was enough as he peeked his head around. If he could call the cops again with descriptions, that’d be fantastic.

That was when he winced hard, seeing one of the fighters get socked so hard he spun and landed on the ground. Wincing again, he grit his teeth. Black hair, black jacket, white shirt...he looked pretty thin, actually. Ah, shit, the others were gathering around him...wait?! Was it literally like, five on one?! A couple of them already had bloody noses and bruises; had he been fighting all of them by himself?!

As soon as the others started to kick him while he was down, Keigo’s feet were moving before he could even stop himself or think why. This was none of his business. If he got involved it could spell a lot of shit for him...but as soon as another of the goons landed another hard kick on the downed man’s torso which sent him flying towards the brick wall, his fist connected to the bastard’s face.

Maybe his fucking martial arts training could come in handy for once instead of making him look pretty in front of a camera.

[megailovekpop-blog]

Wonwoo had just got up that morning. He did not know what to do, he felt down- a weird down. He had this feeling inside him for a long, long time but he had no one to talk to. He did have a roommate though- who was nice, but busy. He would also leave early in the morning and come back late at night. Whatever Wonwoo made for dinner, he would leave it for his introverted roommate. His name was Mingyu or Minseok- something along those lines.

Wonwoo went to brush his teeth and started daydreaming- thinking about things he had never questioned before. Why was his workplace so sexist? What of he went on a protest the next day? What he left his place and ran away? He was still thinking when his roommate entered without his permission and took his brush and left.

Wonwoo was still thinking stuff while his hands brushed his teeth and he kept staring at his reflection. He then took his razor and fresher thoughts ran in his head. Should he cut himself? If he cut himself on his face, would he bleed to death? Woukd he want to die like that? Once again, he kept staring at the thing till his roommate came in to disturb again.

“You have taken my razor.” He told. Wonwoo looked down to lok at his hand. It was his roommate’s razor actually.

“I am so sorry.”

Wonwoo broke out of his thoughts to look at the clock. It was getting late, but he could care less. He got dressed, looked at himself, and suddenly he did not want to go. He wanted to fall sick- maybe stay at home, cook for himself, cook something better for his roommate, get to know him better. And then there was a slam of the door. His roommate had left for his work. Wonwoo took his bag and dragged his feet out of his house- like he always did, like maybe he would have to do it a hundred times more.

He reached his workplace- greeted his friends and some of his foes. His boss called him. He went inside. He heard him say things about the data he had to achieve that day. He heard he was not working very well- that he had to do better. He heard the assistant enter and then his boss compare him with a few other employees. Wonwoo knew one thing- he had given his best the last time he had worked.

He dragged his feet back to his cabin. Joshua, his favourite colleague brought him coffee. Dokyeom, the talkative colleague came to chit chat. He passed a smile or two but he knew that this wasn’t him. He was so lost that day- so out of it. Nothing felt like it should have felt.

Seungcheol came and bragged about his work pressure, but he was happy, he was going to get married. Jihoon joined behind him to have lunch with him, like every day. Jihoon had brought his favorite dish. Wonwoo smiled.

“Thanks” he said.

“No issues.” Jihoon smiled and continued eating. Wonwoo ate silently.

They went to the washroom. He entered a stall. He took out his phone. He put in his earphones and listened to some music. Jihoon knocked on his door, but he did not answer. So Jihoon left him alone. After two songs, Wonwoo came out of the stall. He saw he had tears flowing down his eyes. He wiped them, he washed his face. He left for his cabin. He sat down and continued playing his music, while entering all the data he had collected. His mom called.

“Make sure you clean your room today.” His mom reminded.

“Make something nice. Maybe have something outside.” She said, as if sensing his strange feeling.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He honestly did not feel like it. He was having some other thoughts again. Did the world need him? Did his roommate need him? Would people remember him, if he suddenly got lost? And then Jeonghan came to call him for a meeting. He went. He did not pay much attention. He came back.

He finished his work. He submitted the reports to his boss. His boss did not like his work. He made a few comments. Told him to change this and rectify that. He took the reports, made those changes and brought them back. His boss made a face, but accepted what he had offered. Wonwoo could go home now.

Instead of taking a cab, he deiced to take a walk, or maybe take a bus. He took a route that would take longer to go home. Taking an empty seat, he put on his earphones once again, he looked at the beautiful city he was living in. So many people were coming back from work. There were couples holding hands, and there were group of friends who were shouting. There were students adding to the noise, but Wonwoo was feeling numb inside.

He reached his little apartment he shared with his roommate. He kept his bag, he took the stairs and he slowly climbed up the stairs, his phone still in his pocket, the music still blasting in his ears. He reached the door of his terrace. He walked to the edge, while he had a view of the pretty stars, and also the city scape. He felt the wind on his face. He kept walking, till he reached the railing.

He cried, he kept crying. He suddenly broke down. He screamed. He opened his shoes, he removed his socks. He removed his earphones, he kept his phone. He climbed up the railing, he stood there for a while. The railing wasn’t very thick, keeping his balance was difficult. He took a deep breath, and he screamed.

He let his body fall loose, till someone pulled him back.

Wonwoo fell, but the fall was short. He turned to see his roommate, holding him by his waist.

Mingyu hugged him tight, not wanting to leave him. Wonwoo tried freeing himself, but Mingyu won’t let him, till Wonwoo started crying. He gave up and he cried. Mingyu cried with him.

Mingyu lifted him up, took his things and took him back to their room.

“I  know things are hard, but I am always here for you right?” Mingyu held his hand, and then slowly put him to sleep.