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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Four: You Can Hear it in the Silence

a/n: hello again!! So glad to have you back :) I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. It's been wonderful to read some of your comments and thoughts! I do have to give a special shoutout to @harrysblackcoat and @determined-overthinker for their continued support and feedback, it really means the world to me, so a huge thank you to you both!! I am tremendously grateful for all of you lovely readers and I hope you will enjoy chapter four as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to drop by and chat with me after reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count: 6.7k

read parts one, two, and three

“You kissed him?” Maleah gasps over FaceTime, her mouth so wide, Alani fears her jaw will detach from its socket.

She had finally decided to tell her best friend everything, excluding the Rolling Stone details, nearly two days after the last time she had seen Harry. The entire next day had been spent replaying every moment and listening to the recorded interview on her voice notes until the phone battery was completely drained. Alani’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Harry’s voice and it only made her miss him more. The part that she desperately needed her friend’s input on was what had happened immediately before she left.

“No,” Alani clarifies, quickly. “Well, almost. Maybe—I think,”

“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks,” Maleah starts, brows furrowed as if her brain is malfunctioning. “And you’re already swooping in on my man?”

Alani feels her cheeks warm but she pushes past it and rolls her eyes. “There is no swooping going on,”

“I don’t know. You two were caught in the rain together, sounds like swooping to me,”

“But that’s the thing,” Alani huffs. “I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,”

Maleah nods understandingly and pushes any jealousy out of her mind, the love for her best friend winning out.

“Well, tell me exactly what happened before the kiss,”

“There was no kiss,” Alani emphasizes, thinking back to the last few minutes spent in Harry’s car.

The sun had already set when the two of them arrived at her house, leaving little light in the already darkly tinted Range Rover. But even in the darkness, Alani could see the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Their bodies had been close enough in the confined space that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his vanilla scent enveloped her in an intoxicating haze. For a moment, her eyes had darted to his plush lips and she imagined what it would feel like to close the space between them. She could have sworn that he had done the same, finding his eyes wandering just below the tip of her nose when she looked up. Before anything could happen, however, she found herself reaching for the door handle and stepping into the crisp night sky.

“But did you want him to kiss you?” Maleah questions.

Alani waits a beat, but she doesn’t have to think about the answer. “Yes,”

“Well there you go!” her friend responds enthusiastically. “Problem solved,”

“Problem not solved,” Alani corrects. “What about the fact that he’s, like, famous? I mean what happens when he has to go back to L.A. or London or whatever?”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,”

Alani anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lower lip, not stopping even when she tastes blood. “But it’s true—”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to think about it right now,” Maleah assures her. “What if you just let things happen and… enjoy it for what it is?”

Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning in the last part. “Mi, you and I both know that I’ve never been one to just enjoy it for what it is,”

“I know this, and I love you,” Maleah starts slowly. “But as your best friend—and I say this with nothing but love—you need to get laid, for real,”

Alani groans, slumping further into her mattress. “But what if that’s all he wants? I just don’t think I’m ready for that,”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” her friend coos. “But from what you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like that’s all he’s after,”

Alani considers this for a moment before Maleah continues.

“Look, let’s start with something simple: do you like him? I mean, do you like spending time with him and just generally being around him?”

“Yes,”

“Then start there,” Maleah suggests. “You can enjoy someone’s company without making it romantic, it’s just friendship. Don’t put pressure on something that you’re not ready for, or something that might not even be there,”

Alani feels a small weight lifted off her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right I shouldn’t psych myself out over something that didn’t even happen. I mean, for all I know he has a girlfriend,”

She waits a beat before a new concern enters her mind. “Wait, does he have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well even if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Alani reaffirms. “Because we’re just friends,”

“When are you gonna see him again?” her friend asks.

Alani stomach drops. In all her concentration of the past, she hadn’t even considered what will happen when she has to face him again. “I don’t know,”

“Who initiated the last hang out?”

“He did,” Alani admits, thinking back to the hours he had spent reading in the café until her shift was over.

Maleah hums. “Well then it looks like the ball’s in your court,”

Alani is quiet for a moment, which her friend takes as her cue to offer some more reassurance.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, Nani, but it’s gonna be okay. Promise, ”

Alani sighs, kneeling to look out the window next to her bed.

“No, Mi, it’s okay. I really appreciate you just being there, it means a lot,”

“Of course, babes. Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The call ends and Alani continues watching the palm trees sway in the wind. Will do—the very same last words that she had spoken to Harry that night. Her mind wanders back to the moment right before she had opened the door to escape and plays out an alternative scenario. What would have happened if she had leaned just an inch closer?

********

Harry pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. Will do, he repeats in his mind— two words that he never knew could carry so much weight.

“I said ‘I think Manchester United is shit,’” Nick Grimshaw says loudly, shrugging at Mitch and Jeff Bhasker when his plan doesn’t work. “I dunno, that should’ve gotten him,”

“Oh hey, Alani,” Mitch speaks into his phone loud enough for Harry to hear. This piques the singer’s attention immediately, his heart racing. “Yeah he’s right here,”

“What the fuck?” Harry questions, zeroing in on Mitch.

“Who’s Alani?” Nick teases with eyebrows raised into his hairline.

Harry springs from his seat and corners Mitch, who holds his phone above his head. “Gimme the phone!”

“Hello,” Nick interrupts, watching the struggle continue. “Feeling neglected here, who’s Alani?”

The guitarist ducks and sprints to the opposite wall, Harry chasing close behind. They hop from couch to couch and swerve around fragile equipment while Mitch snickers and guards his phone close. Harry had no idea why Alani was calling and why she hadn’t reached out to him directly, but he’s dying to hear her voice again and is growing increasingly frustrated with his friend’s antics.

“Mitchell, stop fuckin’ around!”

“I’m sorry,” he relents, holding out the phone with an amused laugh. “It wasn’t her, wrong number,”

Harry huffs and returns to his seat disappointedly, a guitar resting in his lap. Nick, who had only been able to drop in for the weekend due to his busy schedule at the BBC, narrows his eyes at both boys before speaking up again.

“Once again, no one has answered my question.”

“She’s just a girl he’s been hanging out with,” Jeff explains nonchalantly. “He wants to have her babies.”

“Don’t,” Harry warns.

Despite already having his fun, Mitch can’t resist adding on. “It’s none of our business… but I’ve heard a summer wedding is in the works.”

“I’m gonna go drink now,” Harry announces, standing. “And none of you fuckers are invited.”

He wanders down the hallway and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the tequila. Is it too early for margaritas? he wonders before deciding that he wants a second opinion. No new texts are displayed on his phone screen, much to his disappointment, but he decides to open the messages app anyway. He carefully types in Alani’s name and writes, then re-writes, the text several times before pressing send. As soon as the tag reads “delivered”, his body is filled with apprehension, but there’s no turning back.

Harry: Is 10 a.m. too early for margaritas?

There’s a minute of silence, then two, and Harry turns his phone face down onto the counter to reach for the ingredients. It dings just as he opens the bottle of tequila and he immediately lunges for it.

Alani: Never. Morning margs were invented for a reason.

Relief. He quickly types out a risky response.

Harry: Any chance I can convince you to join me?

He stares at the screen, willing the “delivered” to turn into a “read,” but it doesn’t budge. His lips ghost over the rim of the tequila bottle before he bites the bullet and takes a sip.

Alani: Working :( sorry. Another time maybe.

Defeat. He knows that “another time maybe” is a polite “never.” Another swig of tequila down the hatch.

Harry: Yeah, no worries.

Alani sets her phone down on her nightstand and brings the duvet up to her chin. She hopes with every muscle in her body that Harry doesn’t show up to the restaurant, though if he’s planning on drinking, perhaps she’s safe. Maybe I should do the same. She wonders, thinking about the rosé her mom keeps in the cupboard for special occasions. Surely heartache must be a good enough reason to crack it open. Regardless, Alani doesn’t think she has the stomach to keep it down at the present.

********

Harry pushes the remaining peas around on his plate with the prongs of his fork. His chin rests in the heel of his hand.

“And then I said ‘what’s the difference?’” his manager remarks, sending the rest of the group into a fit of wild laughter.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Mitch comments through a chuckle.

The laughter slowly dies down and their eyes all wander to Harry who hasn’t budged for the past twenty-five minutes. They exchange worried glances, and Jeff begins to wonder if his initial advice for Harry to go out with Alani was a mistake.

“Hey, H,” he begins gently. “You feelin’ alright?”

Harry looks up from his plate and musters his best fake smile. “Yeah, jus’ tired,”

It was partially true; the crew had spent their entire afternoon at Honoli’i Beach practicing their surfing, though it was mostly unsuccessful for Harry—his life seemed to be a series of wipe-outs these days.

“I’m gonna go watch a Rom-Com in my room,” he announces, standing with his plate. “Probably doze off.”

The group exchanges “good nights” before Harry saunters down the hall to his room. Settling into the bed, he flicks through the movie selection and clicks on one that he knows by heart. He contemplates texting Alani again, scrolling through their brief conversation from three days ago. Against his better judgment, he types out another message and presses send.

Harry: Opinion on The Notebook?

He waits, attention briefly occupied by Rachel McAdams until the phone dings.

Alani: A classic, though not as good as Dirty Dancing if I’m being honest.

The corners of his mouth curl and he immediately types out another response.

Harry: You have a problem with The Goss?

Alani snorts, planting her spoon into the pint of strawberry ice cream to reply.

Alani: First, I have many gripes about you referring to Ryan Gosling as “The Goss”. Second, I was actually rooting for Lon Hammond, but maybe that’s just because I’m partial to James Marsden. And third, the scene where Baby and Johnny are dancing alone in his room. That’s all I have to say.

Harry hums, hanging on every word.

Harry: Confession: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing…

Alani: We need to change that immediately.

His heart pounds. So she didn’t plan on ghosting him forever.

Harry: So Lon Hammond, that’s your type?

Alani doesn’t know why she finds it unsettling that Harry steers the conversation away from any possible talk of them hanging out again. She reminds herself that she had been the one to decline his invitation for margaritas and shovels another scoop of ice cream into her mouth.

Alani: Kind, supportive, successful, handsome? Yeah, I’d say so. Not to mention he forgave Allie for cheating.

Harry: But Noah built her a house. Her dream house, I might add.

Alani: I’m not discrediting Noah, I love a grand romantic gesture as much as the next person. Just think Lon deserved better.

Harry grins, entirely ignoring the movie at this point. Grand romantic gestures, he notes, good to know.

Harry: And what about the fact that Noah wrote it all down and reads their literal love story to her every time she forgets?

Alani: Maybe he deserves some rights for that.

Alani taps the spoon against her lower lip and thinks about Cecily’s words. Just let things happen. She desperately wants to, but she doesn’t know how. The thought of getting too close only to let it all slip through her fingers is too overwhelming, so she starts with something simple: do you like spending time with him? Alani doesn’t think she could enjoy anything more. Her mind wanders back to the passenger seat of Harry’s car and the image of his wrist draped over the steering wheel, lower lip captured between his fingers. She had noted this tick early on and found it endlessly endearing. Save for the awkward fifteen minutes of their very first interview, their conversations all seemed to come so easily. Alani enjoys his quick wit and the way he speaks slowly, as if carefully weighing each word. She likes that even though the entire reason for their relationship is for her to learn all that she possibly can about him, he makes an equal effort to get to know her. Alani compares Harry’s sincere reaction to hearing that she was a journalist to David’s snarky remark. Harry had believed in her from the get-go—he had trusted her. He makes her feel seen and known. Isn’t that what it means to be loved? To be known? His words echo in her mind.

Harry: How’s the article going?

Alani’s stomach drops. Fuck. In all her contemplation over the almost kiss, she had forgotten the truth behind her motives. She had lied. Harry had trusted her, and she had lied. Not yet, she thinks, I haven’t lied yet. It would only be a lie if she submits the article to Rolling Stone. Her throat tightens. But I’m so close. She thinks about telling him, but quickly shuts the thought down when she considers that she still doesn’t have enough material and can’t afford to risk it now. This is her chance, there’s no doubt about it. Why else would the universe have planted a world famous rockstar right at her feet just when she had decided to give up for good? Alani had to at least try, she owed it to herself, and she reasons that if Harry really cares about her, he will understand. He would have to.

Alani: It’s going.

Harry: Can I get a sneak peek anytime soon?

Alani: Soon. Good night, Harry.

She sends the last text and sets her phone face down next to her. If she was going to do this, she had to do it right—even if it meant putting some space between the two of them. She owed that much to Harry.

He sinks further into the mattress, not understanding what he had said or done wrong, but he grants Alani her space, anyway.

Harry: Good night Alani.

********

“You’re listening to KWPX The Wave and that was the latest single from Ariana Grande,”

Alani stops fiddling with the radio and sits back with a defeated huff. She had been in a rut with her own music lately and after spending nearly fifteen minutes in her driveway shuffling through songs, she decided to turn on the radio and leave it up to fate.

“Next up is a song from everyone’s favorite ex-boyband: One Direction,”

Goddamnit, Alani groans. She had forgotten what a bitch fate could be.

“Now, I have to say, DeeDee,” the radio DJ starts. “I was personally heartbroken to hear the news, and I know my daughters were too,”

“Oh definitely,” DeeDee replies. “And I can’t help but wonder what this means for all of them. I mean, what do you think they’re up to these days?”

The first DJ gives a snide chuckle before he continues. “Probably doing what every twenty-something year old millionaire does: booze, cruise, and schmooze—the pretty girls, especially,”

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes at his insinuation. She had begun to resent all of the gossip and speculation surrounding Harry’s whereabouts, especially after learning how much privacy meant to him. Moreover, she hated the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins at the thought of him with another girl. Alani supposes that it wasn’t entirely out of the question since they were far from romantically involved. While he had occupied her mind over the past few weeks, she knew that it was highly unlikely that he paid her the same attention. The thought still brings bile to her mouth.

“Well whatever they’re up to, one thing seems to be pretty clear,” DeeDee speaks up again. “All eyes will be on Harry Styles. I mean, he’s really the one to watch in all of this, isn’t he?”

“I think you’re right. I’m curious to see what he’s got in store. Maybe he’ll join Justin Timberlake and Nick Jonas with the ex-boyband buzz cut. But without further ado, here’s Drag Me Down.”

Alani knows that she’ll have to talk to Harry eventually; over the past week and a half, she had dodged every invitation to hang out, left cut and dry responses to all of his texts, and even ducked into the restaurant’s walk-in fridge when he unexpectedly showed up one afternoon. While the temptation to indulge his friendly advances was high, professional boundaries needed to be established. She had already begun working on the article with material from the two previous interviews—and it wasn’t half bad—but there was still so much of the story to fill in. If Alani was going to make it all worthwhile, she had to keep digging and do it fast; she couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.

Her car sputters slightly as she heads south on Mamalahoa Highway and the radio fades in and out. Alani checks all of her gauges—she had made sure that the gas tank was full before leaving—and doesn’t see anything unusual. A few miles later, it jerks again before coming to a complete stop.

“Fuck,” she cries, pounding her palms against the steering wheel. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Alani waits a moment before turning the key again, but the engine refuses to start. She whips her phone out of the cupholder and scrolls through her contact list.

Pua—no license.

Maleah—out of town.

Dad—also out of town, catering a wedding in Oahu.

Mom—probably scrubbed in on a major, life-saving surgery.

She continues scrolling until her finger lands on a name that makes her heart race and sink at the same time.

Harry Styles—no.

There’s no way she can justify calling him, not after giving him the cold shoulder all week. If texting back and forth was unprofessional, then asking to be rescued off the side of the road surely crossed several boundaries. Alani scans her surroundings, shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun. There isn’t a car or person in sight for miles—what other choice does she have? With shaking fingers, she dials the number and presses the phone to her ear. Harry answers after the third ring.

“Hello?” he responds loudly over the sound of cymbals crashing and laughter in the background.

“Hi,” Alani greets, raising her voice to be heard. “It’s Alani,”

She hears shuffling on the other end and then Harry’s voice, softer this time.

“Oh hey. How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

Harry senses that something is off, but he’s glad to hear from Alani, nevertheless. His friends continue their antics in the studio, despite his silent gestures to knock it off, so he heads outside.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. S’good to hear from you,” he offers shyly.

Alani’s chest tightens.

“Ditto,” she replies. “Hey listen, um, I’m kind of in a bit of trouble I—”

She hesitates. What the hell am I doing?

“I need your help,”

Harry’s heart sinks, immediately filled with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. “It’s my car,”

“Where are you?”

“The highway, southbound. Just past exit 243, I think,”

“I’m on my way,”

“Thank you,” Alani offers gently. “Really, thank you.”

A soft smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “Anytime.”

He arrives in a pink Cadillac fifteen minutes later, pulling over behind Alani. She doesn’t recognize the car and her confusion only deepens when a man with short-cropped hair emerges. As he approaches, a wave of recognition and relief washes over her.

“Harry?”

“Hey,” he greets, walking up to the driver’s side. “Need a lift?”

Alani’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly, scanning his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person than the one she remembers, and he has the faintest trace of stubble above his lip and jaw.

“You cut your hair,”

“I did,” he confirms.

“It’s so short,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Alani offers with a light laugh, feeling flustered under his gaze. “I mean it looks great, really suits you. Not that it matters what I think, it’s your hair,”

But it did matter. Everything she did, or didn’t do, said, and didn’t say— it all mattered to him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. And it mattered more than she would ever know.

“So Stevie quit on you?”

Alani sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honestly. All of the gauges look fine and I filled the tank this morning,”

Harry asks her to pop the hood and makes his way to the front of the Bronco. He looks around, not seeing any smoke or trace of other issues, though his knowledge of cars isn’t as comprehensive as he’d like in this situation.

Alani joins him, doing her own scan over the inside of the hood despite the fact that she has no idea what to look for. Her eyes wander to Harry’s strong hands as they prod the various bells and whistles, and she notices the way his tanned skin glistens under the sun. The cross pendant nestled behind his white t-shirt escapes when he leans over, swinging like a mesmerizing pendulum.

“I called a tow truck,” he says standing with his hands on his hips. “Should be here soon,”

“I’ll pay you back,” Alani offers quickly, her throat dry.

Harry waves her concern away with a hand and places the hood back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay,”

“I really owe you one,” she says appreciatively.

He leans against the car with his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have lunch with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

The tow truck arrives ten minutes later and the driver gathers all of Alani’s information, letting her know which mechanic the car will be taken to and when she can pick it up. She sighs watching Stevie pull away down the road and imagines the dent it’ll make in her savings. Harry nudges her gently, motioning for her to get in his car.

“New ride?” she questions, running her fingers over the cotton candy paint.

“It belongs to the owner of the studio,” he explains. “All of the cars do except the Rover, she’s a rental. But Jeff took her out to get us lunch,”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your plans,” Alani apologizes. And for kind of ghosting you, she thinks.

Harry shakes his head, shifting the gear between them. “Nah, you didn’t interrupt, we were just messing around. But I am curious to know what brought you all the way out here on a Tuesday afternoon. Skipping town?”

Alani giggles at the way he says “Tuesday,” but responds despite the curious look he flashes her. “Day off. I was gonna go to the beach,”

“Bummer,” Harry offers, thanking every deity that he can name. “We could still go,”

“Your friends won’t be mad?”

“They’ll be fine,”

Alani nods, her eyes studying the orange checkers on her trousers.

“What’re you hungry for?” Harry speaks up.

She thinks for a moment and is reminded of her original plans. “I could go for some sushi,”

“Know any good places?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” Alani’s curious gaze falls to the glove box before her, immediately wondering what’s inside. “Do you think the owner will be mad if I open this?”

Harry glances down at what she’s pointing to and shakes his head. “Knock yourself out,”

Alani pulls down the hatch and reaches inside; her fingers make contact with what feels like a pair of glasses. When her hand re-emerges with a pair that are pink and heart-shaped, she smiles.

“They have good taste,” she comments, putting them on.

Harry looks over and flashes a wide grin, the dimple that Alani has become so fond of emerging.

“Look good on you,”

“Try them on,” Alani suggests, handing them over.

He obliges and pushes his own pair up to make room for the other lenses.

“What d’you think?”

“I think you should keep them,” she says. “They suit you.”

And they really do; they compliment his face well and hint to the fun, easygoing parts of his personality that Alani has recently discovered.

She directs him to her favorite sushi spot near Bayfront Park, which is buzzing per usual. After they’ve been seated on the patio outside, Harry tucks the heart-shaped sunglasses into his t-shirt and contemplates addressing the elephant in the room: the ghosting. He doesn’t want to spook her, though, so he decides to pose the question lightly, but Alani speaks before he has the chance.

“So what’s with the haircut?”

Harry blinks, clearing his throat before he responds. “You hate it,”

“No!” She defends. “I like it, really, it looks great,”

“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t absolutely hate it,” he teases in mock offense.

Alani rolls her eyes, a playful smile spreading across her face. “It just seems like a huge step and I’m curious, that’s all,”

He considers this, deciding to stop giving her a hard time, and responds. “Well if you must know, it’s for an audition,”

“For?”

“A movie,”

“A movie?” Alani’s eyes grow wide. “You’re gonna be in a movie?”

“Maybe,” he clarifies. “Dunno yet,”

“Wow,”

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What have you been up to? Any life changing decisions?”

Alani shrugs. “Same old. Work, my summer class,”

“And how’s your family?” he asks, which catches her off guard.

“Good. My sister’s… a moody teenager. My dad is catering a big wedding in Oahu right now. Mom’s saving lives like the badass woman she is,”

Harry laughs lightly at her comment and Alani tries to store the soundbite in the back of her mind for safe keeping.

“What about yours?” she questions.

“Fine, yeah. Mum’s good, so’s Gemma. Talk to them at least once a week just to check in,”

He pauses to take a sip of his water before continuing. “Ever since I was about...ten, maybe, ‘ve had this feeling like—protect mum at all costs. But she’s strong, has the greatest heart,”

Alani finds it sweet that Harry speaks so highly of Anne. Her own mom had always told her that a lot can be said about the character of a man by the way he treats his mother.

“I’m sure she misses having you around,” Alani comments, thinking of her own close relationship with her mom. “I don’t know if I could let my child leave home as early as you did,”

Harry brushes the tip of his nose with a knuckle and nods. “Was kinda hard at first, but she’s always been really supportive.”

“I bet she’s really proud.”

He offers a shy smile in response, scanning the scenery around them.

“I’m sure your family’s proud of you too.”

Alani and Harry continue their light conversation through the entire meal, sharing stories about their families and childhood. She finds herself wishing that she could have met a teenaged Harry, pre-fame and general world domination. He enjoys her anecdotes, soaking up every detail that he possibly can as if his life depends on it. The two of them go back and forth well after the meal is finished, only pausing when the waitress stops to check on them.

“Maybe we should go,” Alani suggests, checking her phone for the time. “I always hate when customers stay for hours,”

“Just like I did the first time at the café?” he asks, putting his signature on the bill.

Alani feels her cheeks warm and she quickly back pedals. “No! I mean—well, yeah, kinda—”

“And the truth comes out!”

“I was just annoyed because my sister kept bugging me to fill up your water. She was afraid you were gonna, like, get dehydrated and die or something.”

“Tell her I appreciate the concern.”

Alani laughs lightly, feeling a bit of relief when the breeze soothes her burning cheeks. The two of them make their way back into the restaurant and out the main entrance, padding down the boardwalk side by side. Harry never knows what to do with his hands, usually opting to stuff them into his pockets as he hurries down a busy street, but he desperately wishes to occupy them a different way. His pinky involuntarily brushes the back of Alani’s hand, but he pulls away quickly to avoid freaking her out. She wishes he hadn’t.

“What were you gonna do at the beach?” he asks to break the ice.

She thinks for a moment, watching the different couples huddled together on the beach. “Relax, get some air. Do a little reading,”

“What’re you reading?”

“Currently this book about Laurel Canyon in California and some of the musicians who lived there during the 60s. You might like it,”

Harry’s brow raises. “Think so?”

“Yeah, it’s got Joni, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Mamas and the Papas, all those guys. They talk about their experiences of coming to terms with rapidly growing fame, the reality of the peace and love movement, the collaborative process. Seems like something you might find interesting—relatable, even,”

"I’ll check it out,” Harry promises with a nod.

Alani smiles gently and refocuses her attention on the horizon. “So what were you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” Think about you. “But speaking of books and stuff, I‘ve been meaning to ask. When you become, you know, the next Pulitzer Prize winner, do I get to be your plus one?”

She scoffs, squinting under the bright sun to look up at him. “I don’t know, I have to make it first,”

“And what does ‘making it’ mean to you?” Harry had been trying to re-define success, himself, and was curious to hear Alani’s thoughts on the subject.

She ponders the question for a minute, adjusting the straps of her orange tank-top to occupy her anxious fingers. “Move to New York, work for some big publication, something like that,”

“New York?” he asks, slightly taken aback. “And leave all this behind?”

“I think I’d like the change,” Alani reasons. “I love it here more than anything, but I think I’ve gotta make my own way, my own decisions. My grandma used to say that you ‘gotta swim before you drown because the ocean’s too vast and too interesting to get stuck treading water in the same place,’”

Harry nods, understandingly. “Wise woman,”

“Carolina,” Alani says, using the Spanish pronunciation that sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “That was her name, I was named after her,”

“Middle name?”

“Yeah,” she clarifies. “I’m half Mexican on my mom’s side,”

He hums. “Ever been?”

“To Mexico?” Alani asks, proceeding when he nods. “Yeah. Once when I was like, five, we went to Xcaret for my aunt’s wedding,”

“It’s beautiful there,” Harry notes.

“What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?” Alani questions, imagining all the stamps that must be in Harry’s passport.

He thinks for a moment, a hum buzzing low in his throat as he sifts through his memory. “Probably Italy,”

“Lucky,” Alani muses, picturing the Gothic cathedrals that she longs to visit.

“You’d like it there.” Harry says, truly believing it. A part of him felt that she belonged in every beautiful place he could think of.

The two of them walk in silence for a few moments, each taking time to scope out the view around them. Alani sees a couple leaned against a staircase railing, looking deep in conversation, though probably not a pleasant one.

“You think they’re breaking up?” Alani asks gently, nodding her head in their direction. “Or just having the talk?”

Harry scans the scenery before his eyes land on the pair that she's referring to. “Ah yes, the talk. Ye olde chat,”

“What do you think you’d be if you weren’t a musician?” She poses suddenly. He laughs to himself at the way Alani jumps from topic to topic and reasons that her mind must always be going a mile a minute.

“A virgin,” Harry jokes, hoping that it’ll land. When she lets out a sudden, bright laugh, he looks over in relief.

“God, you are so…” Alani trails off, shaking her head.

He waits to see if she’ll finish the statement, but he doesn’t think she will. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to say. The more Alani learns about Harry, the more he seems to surprise her. One minute he can be serious and thoughtful. The next, a ray of sunshine—aloof and carefree. She finds herself anticipating his every move, every word, and loving each minute that he allows her to. It makes her head spin at times, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

They journey down to the shore and discard their shoes in favor of feeling the cool sand beneath their toes. Alani tells Harry about the sea glass collection she had as a child, and he makes a mental note to scan the ground for any pieces she might like. She asks him if the beaches are nice in England, to which he responds a hard “no” compared to the ones in Hawaii or California. A couple of children splash in the shallow water nearby, and Alani doesn’t miss the fond look in Harry’s eye as he watches. Eventually, they wander back up to the main boardwalk when they spot a group of people happily sipping milkshakes. Harry noticed her eyes following them, practically drooling, so he suggested it before she had to.

“Want some?” Alani asks, her mouth full of strawberry.

Harry gladly accepts, taking a sip from the straw that she holds out to him. He hums, letting the taste sit on his tongue before he offers his own cup full of vanilla. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning over for a taste. The flavor is sweet and comforting to her, despite popular opinion that it’s boring. Alani swipes her tongue across her lower lip and thinks for a moment that this is what his mouth must taste like. She wishes she could verify this thought.

“I’m really glad you got the strawberry,” he notes, stirring his drink with the straw. “I was having a serious crisis over what to get,”

“When in doubt, always go with the pink one,” Alani says, tapping her temple, and suddenly Harry remembers that the contents of her bag were all various shades of bubble gum and dusty rose.

“It’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” he offers, taking another sip of his milkshake.

“Paul Simonon?” she questions with narrowed eyes, instantly recognizing his reference to a quote from The Clash’s bassist.

“Nothing gets past you.”

********

The clouds above start to resemble puffs of cotton candy, signaling that the day will soon draw to a close much to both Harry and Alani’s dismay. They lounge in the pink Cadillac, which is parked in an area that overlooks the entire beach, and take turns picking out the one lie amongst two truths about one another; it was a game that Harry had proposed.

“Is it,” Alani starts, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “The four nipples?”

Harry makes a buzzer sound effect through his own laughter, temple resting against his fist as his arm drapes over the seat.

“Wrong-o, sorry,”

“What?!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “You’re messing with me,”

“Am not,” he defends proudly.

Alani lets out a surprised chuckle, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t believe you,”

“I’d prove it,” he shrugs. “But then I’d have to flash you,”

“Guess we’ll never know, then,”

Their laughter settles down and the only sound between them is the crashing of waves in the distance. Harry lets his eyes trail down the slope of Alani’s nose to her cupid’s bow—dangerous territory. Little does he know, Alani does the same, noting the fact that his lips are heart-shaped and the perfect shade of strawberry. How sickeningly charming, she thinks. Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and there’s something hidden behind the sea-glass that she can’t quite read. The air becomes charged and the two of them are like magnets, drawn inexplicably towards one another. Alani inches closer, her heart pounding so violently in her chest, she’s afraid that he can hear it. The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears prevents this, however, as he leans in too. The space between them gets smaller, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, when the high pitched ringing of Alani’s phone sends her jolting backward. Harry curses every deity that he can name.

“Hello?” she responds, turning her back to him. She listens for a minute, a soft “mhmm” escaping every few seconds. “Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,”

Alani dreads having to turn back to Harry and face the consequences of whatever lines were almost crossed. She chooses to simply ignore it all together, as if no time had passed between his shocking personal revelation and the ringing of her phone.

“Stevie’s ready.” she says weakly.

Harry swallows down his frustration and offers a polite smile. “Let’s go get her.”

The mechanic shop is twenty minutes from the beach; Harry and Alani spend the entire ride in silence. Neither of them address the almost kiss despite the fact that it hangs over their heads like a raincloud of uncertain emotion. She occupies her gaze with the scenery whizzing past while he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Alani mourns the fact that their little bubble had been popped so soon, but she figures that it’s for the best. Don’t get attached, she reminds herself. Easier said than done. Harry also wallows in the aftermath of the interruption, wishing he had acted sooner. When they finally arrive at the shop, the mechanic reveals that the cause of her car troubles was a simple dead battery. Harry offers to foot the bill, but Alani refuses, deciding that she shouldn’t accept any more favors from him in order to restore the boundary.

“So I guess this is where we part ways,” Alani says gently, toying with her keys.

Harry scans his brain for something—anything—a single excuse to see her again, and soon. He doesn’t think he can take another week and a half of icy silence and he has a suspicion that she can’t either. After all, she had leaned in, too—hadn’t she?

“There’s this thing,” he blurts out. “A sort of jam sesh at the studio tomorrow night. There’s gonna be booze, otherwise I’d tell you to bring your sister. But I’d love for you to come, and I think it might be good for—the article, or something,”

Alani weighs the pros and cons in her mind, one of which he had already mentioned: a chance to listen to what he’s working on. It seemed professional and innocent enough, not to mention the fact that there’d be other people around to keep them in check. Once she decides it’s safe, she nods.

“Okay, sure,”

“I can pick you up,” Harry offers.

Alani shakes her head gently and offers a shy smile. “No, that's okay. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.”

They exchange good-byes and Alani thanks him for coming to her rescue, to which he offers a modest shrug. Harry speeds down the highway and back to the house, but three words linger in the silence.

I’ll be there.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #solo harry #one direction #harry fic #ybmh #sooo :))) how we feelin now

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bevioletskies · 3 years

Text

meet me halfway (across the sky)

summary: Video calls back home were a rare treat for Apollo, considering how busy his life in Khura’in could be. Catching up with Trucy, Athena, and Phoenix was one thing. Getting a sudden call from Klavier was another. And talking to Klavier every day for hours about everything they never knew about each other was possibly the most unexpected thing of all.

word count: 12k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day five of seven (prompt: "parallels"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

Mild spoiler warning for Spirit of Justice, along with implied spoilers for Dual Destinies. Fic title is from the song Meet Me Half Way by Kenny Loggins.

“Uh, Mr. Wright, you’re way too close to the screen. Can you sit back a little?”

“Oops - sorry, Apollo! Still not used to this kind of technology, heh.”

“Sheesh, Daddy, you make yourself sound ancient - ”

“Ah! Did you guys start already? Attendez-moi!”

Chuckling, Apollo leaned back in his seat and waited while the three of them rearranged themselves in front of their webcam. He’d missed this, this camaraderie that he didn’t quite have with his current companions in Khura’in. There was something immensely comforting about it, about every time he managed to schedule a video call with everyone back home. It didn’t happen as often as they would’ve liked, given how busy they all were, how tricky the time difference could be, but when it did, it was the best part of Apollo’s week.

“Hey, guys,” Apollo said, waving sleepily. “What’s been going on?” He leaned closer, peering at his screen. “...Athena, why do you have a banana sticker on your forehead?”

“Why don’t you have a banana sticker on your forehead?” Athena retorted, peeling hers off with a flourish. “Anyway, everything’s been sehr gut! We’ve had, hm...I think four clients since we last talked? All acquitted, of course!”

“Anything interesting?” Apollo asked. “I’ve had twelve clients, myself.”

Phoenix frowned. “I’m...not so sure that’s a good thing. Are you getting enough sleep? I can’t imagine you having that many cases and not mixing them up. Keeping track of evidence alone must be a nightmare!”

“It’s been...a process,” Apollo said diplomatically, trying not to think about the dozens of folders he had on both his desktop and his actual desk that needed to be sorted in a way that made some semblance of sense. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Wright, I-I’m fine!”

“Famous last words,” Trucy huffed. “Polly, you need rest! We want you back home in one piece, after all.”

“At least I’m not accepting odd jobs anymore,” Apollo chuckled. “I don’t mind helping someone set up their internet or move their couch every now and then, but I can’t do everything.” He startled suddenly at the sound of his phone going off. “Oh - sorry, one sec.” His brows knitted together when he read the call display: Klavier Gavin.

“Apollo? Is something wrong?” Athena asked, concerned.

“I - uh…” Apollo hesitated, unsure of what to do. “I’m gonna mute myself for a second, hang on.” He did just that, then answered his phone. “Gavin? Are you...wait. Did you call me by accident?”

There was a long, lingering silence. Then, “Ach, I only just realized what time it is where you are. I should’ve texted first, ja?”

“Yeah, probably,” Apollo said, laughing awkwardly. “Is this, uh, urgent? It’s just - I’m in the middle of a video call, so…”

“Nein, nein, not all!” Klavier’s voice was too loud, too sharp. Apollo didn’t need to see his face to know what that meant. “You know what? Forget I called, it’s nothing.”

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Apollo protested, frowning. “If you wanna talk for whatever reason, we can - ”

“I have somewhere I need to be, anyway, so, er - Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” Klavier quickly hung up before Apollo could get a word in edgewise. He stared at his phone, perplexed, before unmuting himself. The others looked as confused as he was.

“What happened?” Phoenix asked.

“...Prosecutor Gavin called me?” Apollo shook himself a little. “I’ll get back to him later, so - anyway, what were we talking about?”

_____

Three days passed before Klavier responded to the inquiring text message Apollo had sent him after he’d finished talking to the others. He still didn’t seem ready to talk about it - whatever it was - but he did suggest they do a video call of their own, to which Apollo agreed. Something about Klavier’s behavior was bothering him, and he was more curious about it than he expected to be.

“Forehead? You’re staring, achtung. I know I’m handsome, but you should really keep those eyes of yours under control. They’re going to get you in trouble someday, I’m sure of it.”

“I - ” Apollo’s eyes narrowed. “Really, Gavin? That’s how we’re starting this?”

“It was you who started it,” Klavier said petulantly, his tone not unlike a five-year-old’s. But really, Apollo couldn’t stop staring - not because of Klavier’s looks; he’d long made peace with how attractive he thought Klavier was and how much he didn’t want Klavier to know, but because of how tired Klavier seemed. Apollo had expected him to be in his usual “uniform”, his silver jewelry and perfect makeup and impeccably styled hair. Instead, Klavier was wearing an oversized sweater, his hair up in a loose topknot, his face completely bare. He still had that lazy, slightly flirtatious smile on his face, but he was slouching quite a bit, his arms loosely wrapped around his propped-up knee. With his cracked lips, acne scars, and hunched shoulders, he looked more human than Apollo had ever thought possible.

“How’ve you been?” Apollo asked, ignoring him. “I’m surprised you called. I haven’t heard from you in, like. Three months? Four? I swear, I’m losing all sense of time here.”

“Well, it’s not like we had a habit of talking in the first place, ja?” Klavier pointed out. “But...to borrow a phrase, I’m fine, though the courts have been so boring without you here. I almost miss the ringing ears I got after every single one of our trials.”

“Har, har,” Apollo drawled. “Congratulations, you and everyone else have broken me down into exactly two personality traits: sarcastic and loud. Are you proud of yourself?”

“You forgot ‘oblivious’,” Klavier supplied helpfully.

Apollo blinked. “...to what?” He blinked again. “Wait - ”

“Too late,” Klavier interrupted gleefully, beaming. “You’ve proven my point beautifully.” Apollo glared; not five minutes in, and he was already prepared to hang up. “Anyway, I’ve been sehr gut, for the most part. Work has been keeping me busy. You?”

“I’m pretty settled here by now,” Apollo said, shrugging. “It’s rough, y’know, trying to rebuild an entire legal system as the only defense attorney in the country, but, uh...at least I’m not completely alone. And as nerdy as it sounds, I’m actually really liking the work. Not the stress - that, I could do without - but the fact that I get to be a part of this big...thing. It’s exciting, I guess.”

“It’s not that nerdy,” Klavier reasoned. “Nerdy is reading law textbooks at night, under the covers. As a child.”

“...is it weird that I actually did that?” Apollo asked, wincing.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to blink, stunned. “Wait, really? I was talking about me.”

“Oh.” Apollo shifted in his seat, surprised. “Never would’ve guessed. I mean, obviously, I know you became a prosecutor at seventeen, but I just assumed you were a musical child prodigy and...I dunno, switched career paths at some point.”

Klavier let out a soft laugh. “Again, you flatter me, Herr Forehead, but I’m not a prodigy of any kind. Just some good old-fashioned hard work, you know?” He then frowned very slightly. “Though...I’ll admit, I’m not sure how much of my standing at the prosecutor’s office also came down to good old-fashioned nepotism. After all, Kristoph…” He trailed off, unwilling to say more.

Apollo shuddered. Even after all this time, he couldn’t get his former boss’s maniacal laughter out of his head. “Right, um...oh, have you had any interesting cases lately? Athena was telling me she had a literal gravedigger as a client - no prizes for guessing where the victim’s body was discovered…”

The next hour seemed to fly by surprisingly quickly, with the two of them exchanging light-hearted anecdotes about work. As it turned out, they’d both had many interesting cases since the last time they spoke. It wasn’t until Apollo could barely keep his eyes open that he realized what time it was.

“Ach, don’t let me keep you,” Klavier said when Apollo yawned for what seemed like the hundredth time in a row. “You have work in the morning, I’m sure.”

“Wait, but - ” Apollo yawned yet again “ - but we never got around to...whatever it was you were calling about the first time. Your so-called ‘nothing’.”

Klavier’s expression sobered instantly, his mouth pulling back into a hard line. “I’m not going to bother lying to you, Apollo. But I’m not interested in telling you, either. So let’s leave it at that, ja?”

“I...oh.” Apollo nodded, feeling somewhat chastised. “Fine. Fine, we don’t have to - but if you wanna, y’know, catch up again sometime, let me know, okay? I’ve got time to talk. Er, I think.”

Klavier laughed, surprised, though his eyes were still wary. “Do you actually...miss me, Forehead?”

“You really know how to ruin a moment, Gavin,” Apollo sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, talk to you later...maybe. Haven’t decided on whether I actually want to anymore, jerk.”

Klavier continued to grin. “Auf Wiedersehen, baby.” Apollo tried not to think about how the last word had made him shiver.

Weeks went by before Apollo heard from Klavier again, a few days after he’d had a two-hour long call with Trucy. Apollo’s voice was a bit hoarse from all the talking he’d done - not to mention how angry he’d gotten in court just yesterday after a particularly smug witness tried to take over the entire trial - but nevertheless, he was surprised at how happy he was to see Klavier, a feeling he was mostly unfamiliar with.

“Do you have a cold?” Klavier asked. “Your voice sounds a bit strained and raspy.”

“My brain feels strained and raspy,” Apollo groaned. He then paused; for some reason, the exchange sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “It’s nothing, I just got pissed and yelled at someone in court yesterday. Not my finest moment, I’ll admit.”

“But isn’t yelling your default?” Klavier smirked. He looked more relaxed than last time, the tension in his face less noticeable. “I hope the rest of the trial went well, at least.”

“Oh, it didn’t,” Apollo said, snorting. “But...past’s in the past. I have too many cases to deal with to bother worrying about one crappy witness. My client was acquitted, I got the real culprit, you know the deal. It’s all starting to blur together, to be honest.”

“It sounds like you need to get out more,” Klavier suggested, not unkindly. “Is there any sort of...nightlife in Khura’in? Recreational activities, maybe? Don’t make me bother Fräulein Detective and get her to drag you to a bar every now and then.”

“We go out to eat or drink sometimes,” Apollo replied, shrugging. “But...I dunno. I don’t really have the time to take up a new hobby or whatever. My free time is for eating, sleeping, and catching up with people back home.”

“Fair enough, though you really should lighten your workload,” Klavier said sagely. “It’s not like you took cases every day when you were here, ja? I know Khura’in needs your help, but what good are you to them if you’re burnt out?”

Apollo’s eyes widened slightly, stupefied. Then, he tried - and failed - to stifle a laugh. “Okay, Dad. Sheesh, you sound like Mr. Wright trying to give me a pep talk.” He sat back in his seat, loosely running his fingers through his hair. “Fine, then, question for you - when’s the last time you took a day off?”

“I went to visit my parents last Saturday,” Klavier answered after taking a moment to think. “They needed help cleaning and packing away some of...some of his things.” He visibly swallowed, though he tried to hide it with a sharp cough. After some consideration, Apollo decided not to comment on it.

“That’s hardly a day off,” Apollo retorted instead. “I mean, it’s technically not work, but - wait. Do you usually work on weekends, too?”

“Natürlich,” Klavier replied, confused. “Do you mean to say you don’t?”

“No, I - I work on weekends more than I should,” Apollo admitted. “But it’s kinda hypocritical of you to tell me to get out more when you don’t have much of a life, either, y’know. Also, are you seriously telling me you don’t have, like. Other things to do? People to see, places to be? Not that spending time with your parents is a bad thing, I-I mean, it’s cool that you do, it’s just...well.”

Klavier averted his eyes, reaching across his desk to pick up his mug of tea. He took his time with it, drinking at a leisurely pace, before finally speaking again. “Do you actually care to know, Forehead? Or are you just asking to ask?” he said evenly.

“I…” Apollo found himself caught off-guard by both the question and his own answer. “No, I actually wanna know. ‘Cos it’s just - it’s not what I imagined. I’ve seen all the headlines and photos and stuff, so…”

“Ah.” Klavier smiled ruefully. “From the early Gavinners days, I take it? Back when I had Daryan around to be my bad influence? Nein, that’s not exactly my style anymore. I already feel too old for that kind of scheisse. Now, I do these things out of obligation, you know? Work parties, family events...nothing too wild. Not when I’ve been involved in too many scandals. Better to lay low than to put myself out there again, ja?”

“I...I see.” Apollo went quiet for a moment, ruminating. He couldn’t help but notice Klavier had neatly avoided the word “friend”; he was starting to wonder how many he actually had. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time Klavier had ever mentioned anyone outside of people that Apollo himself already knew.

“You’re staring again, Forehead.” Klavier leaned closer, resting his chin in his hands, a wicked grin plastered across his face. “There’s no one nearly as pretty as me in Khura’in, I take it? Don’t worry, I’d be surprised if there was.” Apollo said nothing, instead lifting a hand from his own mug of honey lemon tea to flip him off. Klavier merely laughed in response, delighted.

_____

After that, the gap between video calls went down from a few weeks to a few days. Neither of them knew why, but somehow, they’d come to a silent agreement that they were going to talk once or twice a week about nothing in particular. However, Apollo still hadn’t quite figured out why Klavier had called him the first time. Initially, he suspected it had something to do with Kristoph, given that the Gavins were finally starting to pack up his things. Maybe Klavier had visited him recently, or maybe he’d reminisced a little too long about their shared childhood, whatever that looked like. But when Apollo had asked, Klavier had simply shrugged it off.

“It’s no secret that even thinking about thinking about Kristoph puts me in a foul mood,” Klavier had replied. “But I haven’t seen him lately, nein. I’m done, I’m - I just want to move on with my life, without his shadow lurking in the darkness.”

Not all their conversations were so heavy, though; once they’d finally caught up on everything they’d missed out on over the last several months, their topics turned mundane, even silly. Apollo never expected to spend one of his precious free Saturday mornings arguing with Klavier, of all people, about breakfast, of all things, but here he was.

“Yes, I’ve had instant ramen for breakfast, what of it?!” Apollo had exclaimed defensively. “Add an egg, some bacon bits...what’s your problem?”

“My problem is your sodium intake,” Klavier had protested. “Bitte, tell me you eat actual fruits and vegetables from time to time. Tell me you have some semblance of a balanced diet and your stomach hasn’t just turned into a toxic wasteland.”

Apollo wasn’t sure why he was talking to Klavier so often, so suddenly, in all honesty. Part of him supposed it was because Klavier just happened to be there - after all, he seemed freer to talk than Phoenix, Trucy, or Athena, and he wasn’t bad company when he wasn’t not-so-stealthily insulting Apollo in court. But another part of him, the part he desperately wanted to ignore, felt oddly comforted by Klavier’s probably-fake accent and his too-wide smile. Klavier’s presence in his small, chilly Khura’inese bedroom almost made him feel like he was back home.

“Have you seen the others lately?” Apollo asked one evening, bundled up in the thickest blanket he could find. There was a draft coming in from somewhere that he had yet to take care of, and neither Datz nor Ahlbi were too interested in checking it out, either. “Or...I dunno. Watched any of Trucy’s shows?”

“I’ve only seen them around at crime scenes and the courthouse,” Klavier replied. Apollo couldn’t stop himself from sneaking a peek over Klavier’s shoulders at his surroundings in curiosity. For once, Klavier was sitting on his bed instead of at his desk or in what was presumably his home office. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have a huge, ostentatious-looking bedroom that was probably bigger than Apollo’s office. “Things have been...busy at the Gavin estate. I don't have much time to socialize with colleagues.”

“Busy?” Apollo echoed, sitting up. “More cleaning, you mean?”

“My parents aren’t retired, but sometimes, they act like they are,” Klavier said wryly. “They want to remodel so many rooms - the kitchen, the conservatory, my old playroom...so I’ve been going home quite a bit these days, helping them with the little things. It was nostalgic, seeing all the toys I used to play with. Feels like a lifetime ago, achtung.”

“What was your thing?” Apollo asked. “Beanie Babies? Barbie Dreamhouses? Legos? Wait, let me guess - you had one of those Fisher-Price piano playmats, didn’t you? Don’t even lie to me.”

“I would never own something so tacky,” Klavier protested; he almost seemed offended. “Nein, Mama was all about wooden toys - blocks, cars, dollhouses, kitchen sets - it’s very aesthetically pleasing. With the occasional soft toy, ja, but we never had plastic.”

“Interesting,” Apollo said, humming. “Same here, no plastic for us. Only, uh - not for the same reasons. More out of...necessity.”

“Oh.” Klavier’s expression softened. “Ja, I suppose in your...situation, you wouldn’t be able to get new things easily.” He then smirked. “Now I’m trying to imagine you and Herr Sahdmadhi as children. I can’t picture either of you with dolls or teddy bears.”

“Try actual frogs and actual bunnies,” Apollo said, sinking down further into his chair. “We were outdoorsy kids, believe it or not. Scraped knees and sunburns and all. But now, uh, good luck dragging me away from air conditioning and indoor plumbing. You couldn’t pay me to abandon my weighted blanket.”

“Picky, picky,” Klavier teased, grinning. “I don’t blame you, though. I’m too comfortable with being comfortable to like change. Though...I suppose that’s not really up to us, is it? Changing?”

“How philosophical of you,” Apollo drawled, rolling his eyes. “It’s not that deep, Gavin, I’m just saying I’m not interested in sleeping outdoors again anytime soon. One instance of me waking up with ants in places that you definitely don’t want ants was enough.” He then chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “And honestly, who does like change? It’s like when I get a new client, right, and every time, something changes on me. Evidence, circumstances, logic...hell, it’s your fault sometimes!”

“When did this become about me?” Klavier chuckled, still smiling.

“Isn’t everything?” Apollo shot back. “It’s like you have this...this uncanny ability to turn any normal conversation into an opportunity for you to wax poetic, just so you can sound cool. If you ask me, it’s more dorky than anything else.”

Klavier’s mouth dropped open. “...Apollo Justice, are you calling me a dork?”

“Maybe I am, Klavier Gavin. What are we, Prosecutor von Karma?” Apollo snorted. “Sorry, Gavin, but between you and her, I think I know which one of you is actually German.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very German,” Klavier protested, wagging an accusing finger at his screen. “Both of my parents grew up in Germany; they only came to the States so they could get their master’s. They had me learn German by watching Janoschs Traumstunde and Die Sendung mit der Maus, and Mama taught me how to make spätzle and schupfnudeln and reibekuchen - ah, and my favorite dessert? Bienenstich.”

Apollo held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I believe you. I just think your accent’s a little...questionable. You sound like someone who got too overconfident in their dedication to Duolingo.”

“Ach,” Klavier said, laughing. “Anyway, do you mean it? Am I really...dorky?”

“Wow, you’re even more hung up on that than I thought,” Apollo teased, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing as well. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Image is a big deal to you, after all. Yes, Gavin, you’re a huge dork. How can you not be when you say shit like - like ‘tell me you share my angst, Herr Forehead’ - ”

“And you think my accent is terrible,” Klavier mused, sighing. “So sue me, I like to embellish. I like a little romance in my language - it makes life more interesting, you know? Though I suppose you wouldn’t understand, being the kind of person that you are. You wouldn’t know romance if it asked you to dinner.”

“Ugh, that reminds me.” An involuntary shudder went through Apollo’s entire body. “I had a client ask me out a few weeks ago. Like, seconds after I got him acquitted. As if that was all he was thinking about while the judge declared him not guilty.”

Klavier went still. “...really? What happened? What did you say?”

“I said no, obviously!” Apollo exclaimed, loud enough that he briefly wondered if he’d accidentally woken up his neighbors. “He wasn’t a murderer, but he was still a shitty person. Besides, shitty or not, it’s kind of an unspoken thing to not date clients and co-workers, isn’t it?”

“Ja, of course,” Klavier said, waving a hand aimlessly. “I’m just...surprised.”

“That someone was interested in me? Thanks, Gavin,” Apollo drawled, rolling his eyes.

“That someone thought it was a good idea,” Klavier corrected, mouth twisting into a slight frown. “You’re perfect...ly acceptable, Forehead. As a, ah, person to go on a date with, I mean.” He cleared his throat; it seemed to get stuck quite often these days. “Anyway - surely, he didn’t think you would agree!”

“I dunno what he was thinking, if he was thinking at all in the first place,” Apollo sighed, shivering once more. “At least Ema got a good laugh out of it.”

Klavier straightened up, his expression quickly returning to normal. “How is she, by the way? I can only imagine that Khura’in is completely covered in luminol by now.”

“She’s adjusted pretty well, though she’s used to living overseas,” Apollo shrugged. “Her Khura’inese needs some work, though. Er, not that mine’s much better, I’ve been gone for too long. It’s coming back to me...slowly. Very slowly.”

“Sometimes I forget that you speak another language, too,” Klavier remarked. “Considering your grasp of English…”

“My English is fine, thanks,” Apollo huffed; it seemed like he couldn’t go one conversation without wanting to stick his tongue out at Klavier like they were unruly children on a school playground. Or, alternatively, flipping him off like they were fighting over the last parking spot. “Just ‘cos I don’t get all fancy with it - ”

“Here we go again,” Klavier sighed, dropping his chin into his hands. “And you say I make everything about me, hm?”

“Two-way street, Gavin. Two-way street,” Apollo said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Besides, that’s...it’s kind of our thing, isn’t it? Poking at each other until someone gets legitimately pissed? Usually me, but still.”

“I didn’t know we had a ‘thing’,” Klavier said, cocking his head in curiosity. “Tell me more about this ‘thing’ of ours, bitte.”

“See? There you go again!” Now Apollo’s neighbors were definitely awake; he didn’t have to look out the window to know that their lights were coming back on. “You can’t go two seconds without being...smarmy about something. It’s like a bad habit of yours, and I know a thing or two about bad habits.”

“What’s yours?”

Apollo blinked. Klavier had asked so suddenly, so immediately, that he’d barely heard what he’d said. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your bad habit,” Klavier elaborated. “I know you were talking about spotting other people’s tells, but I’m more curious about yours. You’d think that, since I get on your nerves so easily, I’d be able to see it myself, but…” He shrugged, still smiling. It was one of those indiscernible expressions of his that frustrated Apollo so much, the kind of bland, indifferent smile that seemed to mean anything and nothing at the same time. The kind of smile Klavier had in court as he reviewed the facts of the case, or when he ran into Apollo at a crime scene, or even when he talked about not talking about his brother.

“I...I, uh, never really thought about it.” Apollo hummed, thinking it over. “Messing with my hair, I guess? I’ve definitely, literally pulled my hair out before whenever I’m, like. Nervous. Stressed. Worried. Or, y’know, all of the above. I even had a crooked hairline in high school ‘cos I used to do it all the time.”

Klavier lifted his head from his hands, looking at Apollo in awe. He was quiet for so long that Apollo almost asked him if his internet connection had cut out, only to watch Klavier fuss with his bangs, then push them back completely, exposing his hairline, near-identical to what Apollo’s used to look like. It was only then that Apollo realized he’d never seen Klavier with his hair completely up. Of course, he’d seen Klavier do ponytails, braids, even space buns if he was feeling particularly stylish, but his bangs were always swept over his left eye. Now, he could see why.

“...oh.” Apollo wasn’t sure what to say. “I...I see. Is that, uh, recent?”

Klavier nodded shortly, then briefly turned away to grab a hair tie from his bedside table. He held the hair tie between his teeth while he gathered up his hair and twisted it into a neat knot; Apollo tried not to stare at the fullness of Klavier’s bottom lip, sticking out in a perfect pout, as he did. “Can I tell you a secret, Herr Forehead?”

“Oh - er - okay, abrupt change of topic there,” Apollo muttered, more to himself than to Klavier. “I guess so. What’s up?”

“I...haven’t decided how I feel yet about my parents remodeling our family estate.” Klavier’s tone was casual, but Apollo knew by now that it meant nothing. “I know why they’re doing it, I just don’t know why they’re doing it now. Nothing has changed, you know? They’re still working, I’m still working...Kristoph is still in prison.”

“Well, I don’t...know your parents or anything,” Apollo said carefully. “But i-it could be, like, a healing process thing. Starting fresh and all that, you know? But maybe it’s really not that deep. Maybe they literally just felt like, hey, now’s the right time to renovate. You could ask ‘em.”

“Ah - nein, I couldn’t inconvenience them like that,” Klavier said, chuckling awkwardly. He was already starting to mess with his hair once more. “If I expressed anything other than my complete support, they would stop immediately. And they’ve already sacrificed so much for me, I would never...I can’t…”

“Gavin,” Apollo said softly.

“It’s just a few rooms.” Klavier inhaled sharply. “What does it matter? It’s not like I live there. If Mama wants to turn our playroom into a crafting room, it...it makes sense.”

Their conversation, understandably, didn’t last too long after that. Apollo crawled into bed, still wrapped up in his blankets, with over a dozen trains of thought trekking through his mind, more of them about Klavier than he wanted to admit. He’d never thought of Klavier as an inherently private person - at times, he seemed almost too open to speaking his mind - but now, he could see that in some ways, he had been completely wrong.

_____

Unlike before, a few weeks passed before they had another video call. Klavier was wearing a muscle tank this time, his hair scraped back into a messy bun, his bangs perfectly placed. Apollo found himself more than a little distracted by the broadness of Klavier’s shoulders, by the length of Klavier’s neck. “Entschuldigung for last time,” Klavier said smoothly, by way of greeting. “Let’s not have me treat our conversations like my therapy sessions, ja?”

“It’s fine, Gavin,” Apollo reassured him. “One comment about how you’re feeling is no big deal. If you wanna talk, then...talk. Honestly, I’m a huge law nerd, and I could talk about Khura’inese legal practices all day, but, uh, I could definitely use a conversation or two that’s about something completely different.”

Klavier nodded, seemingly thinking it over. “...I like your hair.”

Apollo raised an eyebrow. “...and I like your shirt. What, are we on a shitty speed date? C’mon, you can do better than that!”

“Ach, you didn’t let me finish,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “I just meant...I like your hair like this. It looks...soft. Less severe. Something that would be nice to touch, you know?”

“I...oh.” A pleasant tingle went up Apollo’s spine. Klavier’s voice was low, warm, especially through his headphones. He brushed his hair back behind his ears, ducking his head slightly so Klavier wouldn’t notice the heat rising in his cheeks. “Trucy introduced me to some new hair products a while back. Said it was stuff she uses to make her hair look extra shiny under the stage lights. Er, n-not that that’s why I’m using it, just...it’s nice to treat myself every now and then.”

Klavier suddenly perked up. “Speaking of treating yourself, that reminds me - you know the best way to help you with all that stress and tension you’re dealing with? A gut massage. Surely, there are some facilities like that in Khura’in, ja?”

Apollo fixed Klavier with a withering look. “...Gavin, we just had a revolution here, like, six months ago. Getting a massage and a facial is hardly anyone’s priority right now, believe me. It’s not like the legal system is off in its own little world, y’know? The economy, the sociopolitical order…everyone considers themselves lucky that they can go about their day-to-day lives, but luxury goods and services? Not here, not yet.”

“Shame, though I can’t fault Khura’in for having its priorities in order,” Klavier said, frowning slightly. “Well, if I ever get bored enough and feel like hopping on a plane, maybe I’ll come visit and give you a massage myself.”

“I’m not paying for your ticket,” Apollo retorted, his cheeks reddening once more. “And are you even qualified?”

“I always massage Papa’s shoulders whenever I go to my parents’ house,” Klavier mused thoughtfully. “He gets sore from all the gardening he does. You should see our estate garden; it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

Apollo’s nose twitched. “I’m, uh, I’m sure it does. Hey, so - tell me about your parents. You’ve mentioned them a bunch of times, but I don’t actually know that much about them.”

“High school sweethearts,” Klavier said with an almost dreamy smile on his face. “The old-school kind, slipping love letters into each other’s bags between classes and all that. Now, they’re both college professors at the same school. They both act like practical, no-nonsense people, but the truth is, they're both romantisch at heart.”

“And then passed that on to you,” Apollo nodded. “Makes sense. They sound adorable, actually.”

“I never had a high school sweetheart of my own,” Klavier sighed wistfully. “I can’t imagine how...all-consuming that must feel. To be so young, to be so sure that this one person, the only person you’ve ever loved, will be the only person you’ll ever love.”

“I guess that’s where we differ,” Apollo said quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, surprised at himself. He wasn’t sure where his comment had come from, why he’d blurted it out loud without a second thought. “I, uh, I had...something like that. Someone like that.”

“...oh.” Klavier furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What happened?”

Apollo ducked his head, unable to look Klavier in the eye. “...you know what happened to him.”

Klavier’s eyes widened in realization. “Ach - Apollo, I’m so - ”

“Don’t, I - don’t,” Apollo insisted, a lump forming in his throat. “It’s not, uh. It’s not something I really wanna talk about.”

Klavier seemed unable to speak for a moment, his eyes shining with pity. Apollo hated it, hated how genuinely sorry Klavier looked, as if he had anything to do with it at all. Klavier opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “...I’ve written songs about my parents, actually. Not that you’ll find them on any Gavinners’ albums, just little love ballads that I played at their anniversary parties and vow renewal. They were big hits with my extended family - the one I wrote when I was ten years old is an absolute classic.”

“I’m sure it was,” Apollo chuckled, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “How about now, you write anything recently?”

“Barely a tune since the Gavinners disbanded,” Klavier admitted. “I haven’t felt all that inspired lately. Maybe someday it’ll come back to me, but right now...nothing. Nichts.”

“Good luck, I guess,” Apollo offered. “By the way, what’s with the tank top? Is it that hot over there already?”

“I’ve always been hot, Forehead, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Klavier said, grinning victoriously at the almost too obvious bait.

Apollo groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I will hang up on you someday, Gavin, don’t think I won’t.”

_____

The gap between video calls quickly dwindled down from a few days to no days at all. Text messages were constant, to the point where Apollo had to sheepishly ask Nahyuta how to upgrade his phone plan. Even phone calls started to increase in frequency; Apollo was starting to think he heard Klavier’s voice more often than he heard Ema’s, and they often spent entire days in each other’s presence.

“How do you feel about peaches?” Apollo asked, his phone carefully sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he deftly navigated his way through the farmer’s market, nearly tripping over a stray dog as he did so.

“Great emoji,” Klavier replied semi-seriously, though Apollo could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Although...Forehead, if this is your subtle way of asking me for my opinion on Call Me By Your Name, I’ll have you know I never learned how to play Capriccio sopra la lontananza del suo fratello dilettissimo. Now, Zion Hört Die Wächter Singen, on the other hand - ”

“Need I remind you, I only speak English, Khura’inese, and college-level Spanish?” Apollo interrupted, shaking his head. “Anyway, peaches are basically a delicacy here. Sucks for me, since I’m allergic to stone fruit.”

“Same, I can only eat them cooked. I love a good cherry pie,” Klavier hummed. “Did you remember to get kale this time?”

“Yeah, I got a huge bundle of it right here,” Apollo said, jostling his wicker basket loudly enough so Klavier could hear. A few market patrons turned to look at him strangely. “Thanks again for the tip, by the way. I’m still getting used to cooking stuff that’s not instant or frozen, so roasting vegetables is a total game-changer.”

“Glad to hear you’re eating actual fruits and vegetables now,” Klavier replied, chuckling. “So, I had a case go kaput today. Thought you might want to hear about it.”

“Obviously!” Apollo said, lighting up. “What did you do?”

“Achtung, why do you think it was my fault?” Klavier protested, his laughter warm in Apollo’s ear.

“Isn’t everything?” Apollo shot back, laughing as well. “Seriously, what happened? Can’t be as bad as...literally anything that’s happened to me.”

“Nein, not quite,” Klavier agreed. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t up against Athena or Herr Wright. Some rookie, I think; I was going to go easy on them. That is, until the defendant, apparently overcome with guilt, decided to bring their own decisive evidence to prove that they did, in fact, kill the victim.”

“No!” Apollo exclaimed. More market patrons turned in his direction, glaringly so. He shot them apologetic grimaces, then ducked behind a watermelon display. “Really? Like, are we talking fingerprints, photographs…”

“Everything, Forehead, everything. I couldn’t have convicted them better myself,” Klavier remarked. “Obviously, I take no joy in celebrating crime, especially murder, but ach, I consider that one of the highlights of my career. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if you were there. I can picture your dumbfounded expression now.”

“You’re terrible,” Apollo informed him, with no real bite behind his words. “But...not gonna lie, that’s kind of incredible. I feel bad for the defense, though. I’ve been screwed over by clients before, but usually not that badly.” He then heard a sharp wuff somewhere by his feet; he glanced down to see the dog he’d nearly tripped over before was now sitting on top of his toes, looking up at him with literal puppy-dog eyes. “...uh, hello. Did you need something?”

“What’s that?” Klavier asked.

“Oh - sorry, not you, Gavin. A stray dog just came over to say hi, I guess.” Apollo crouched down, taking care not to tip his basket. “Hey, buddy. I’m not the one to beg for food, if that’s what you’re looking for. All I can offer is, like, a belly rub.”

“Wait, switch to video, I want to see this,” Klavier pleaded, laughing again. Sighing, Apollo turned on his camera, then aimed his phone at the dog, who was now rolling over onto its back, its tail thumping enthusiastically against the cobblestone. “Ah, what an adorable hündchen! Go on, Forehead, don’t make him wait.” Sighing yet again - at Klavier, naturally, not the dog; he could never begrudge the dog - Apollo carefully set his basket down, then began rubbing the dog’s belly, smiling at the adorably goofy look the dog gave him in return, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his eyes closing in utter bliss. “Hold still for a moment, bitte? I want to make this my contact photo for you.”

“Gavin, I swear - ”

“Uh, Apollo? What are you doing?”

Apollo startled at the sound of a new voice; his eyes widened when he looked up and realized who it belonged to. “Ema! He-e-ey, wh-what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ema replied, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you petting a dog while video-calling Gavin at the farmer’s market?”

“...because I can?” Apollo offered meekly, straightening up. He quickly hung up on Klavier before Ema could attempt to talk to him, silently noting the need to send him an apology text later. “Hey, um - th-there’s a discount on tangyuan today, you wanna go all out and split the cost with me?”

Ema continued to eye him suspiciously. “Sure. But please don’t insult my intelligence - you can’t just distract me with snacks, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Apollo sighed, giving the dog one last pat on the head before leading Ema across the market, towards the aforementioned snack stall. “We just...we talk sometimes. What’s the big deal?”

“Nothing, if you guys just do video calls every now and then,” Ema said. “But here you are, shopping for produce and chatting with Gavin at the same time. It’s...a little domestic, don’t you think?”

“D...domestic?” Apollo echoed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I just didn’t think you and Gavin had that kind of relationship, that’s all,” Ema continued, shrugging as she popped a grape from her own basket into her mouth. “Listen, I couldn’t care less about that guy. But you’re my friend, so...I have to ask. Is something, y’know...going on there?”

“Wh - no, no, no, o-of course not!” Apollo ducked behind Ema the second he felt the glares of the market patrons turn to face him, again. He was starting to think he wasn’t going to be welcome back for a couple of weeks, at least. “I - he - we’re friends! It’s kinda new, b-but we’re friends. Just friends. He’s, like...pretty decent when he’s not being obnoxious in court. Or at a crime scene...or just in general.”

Ema snorted, reaching over to steal a strawberry from Apollo’s basket next. “I think it’s time you hop off that bicycle of yours, Apollo, because you’re obviously backpedaling.”

“Tortured metaphor, but okay,” Apollo muttered, glowering at her.

“How’d you guys end up talking in the first place, anyway?” Ema asked, chewing noisily. “I can’t imagine you were the one to initiate it.”

“It...I’m not sure, actually,” Apollo admitted, slapping her hand away before she could steal his entire carton of freshly-picked strawberries. They were probably more expensive than all the vegetables he’d purchased, combined. “Gavin called me a while back, seemed embarrassed about it, and then hung up. I asked him later what was going on, we started doing video calls and stuff, and then it turned into a thing, but…I never figured out why he called the first time. And I don’t think there’s any point in asking.”

“Fair enough, though I gotta admit, I’m still curious. For scientific purposes, of course,” Ema added, humming to herself. “Maybe he...no, there’s no way.”

“You know something I don’t?” Apollo asked, nudging her. “What happened to ‘I couldn’t care less’?”

“Believe me, I really couldn’t,” Ema retorted, elbowing him back. “Surprises me that you have enough to talk about, though. I mean, it’s Gavin.”

“Hey,” Apollo protested; suddenly, he felt weirdly defensive of Klavier. Again, it wasn’t a feeling he was too familiar with. “We have more in common than you think. It’s not all just - just guitar riffs and hair tosses with him.”

“If you say so,” Ema sighed, clearly uninterested in pursuing the topic any further. “C’mon, let’s pick our flavors already. And if you short me on black sesame, I will be taking those strawberries of yours.”

Later that evening, Apollo was cocooned in his usual plethora of blankets, poring over the evidence for three separate cases - honestly, the autopsy reports were starting to blur together, which explained why, for a moment, he thought one of the victims had somehow ended up with a bullet hole in their stomach from being stabbed with a blunt object - when his phone went off. He immediately perked up when he read the call display. “Gavin, hey. Sorry again about earlier, you know how Ema is.”

“Keine Sorge, you already apologized,” Klavier replied. “That’s not why I was calling, in any case.”

Apollo frowned slightly, putting Klavier on speakerphone and nestling his phone among his files. “Oh? I, uh, I thought you were just calling to chat.”

“Ja, we can talk about whatever we feel like after, it’s just - I had a question for you.” The deep breath Klavier took before speaking again made Apollo nervous. “Are you homesick?”

“...huh?” Apollo wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been that. “Well, I mean. Yeah. Yeah, obviously. Khura’in was my home once, so it’s not like I’m in a completely new place, but it’s...yeah, I miss being back home, traffic jams and heatwaves and all. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Klavier said innocently, in that sort of tone of voice that made Apollo want to reach through the phone and strangle him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“There’s either no reason, or a reason that I’ll learn soon enough. Pick one, Gavin,” Apollo drawled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. All he got in response was warm, throaty laughter that sent pleasant tingles down his spine. “Fine, don’t tell me. So, what’re you up to?”

“Just got back from my morning run.” There was a rustling of sound on Klavier’s end that suggested he was still walking around somewhere, presumably inside his apartment. Apollo could only imagine how sweaty he still was, how his skin glistened in the mid-morning sun - and now, he realized belatedly, he wasn’t sure if it was something he should be thinking about at all. “You know, after all this time - I still hate it. Running, I mean.”

“Then why do you do it?” Apollo said, trying not to laugh. “Though to be fair, I feel the same way. Athena used to make me run laps around the agency’s neighborhood sometimes ‘cos I need to ‘improve my cardiovascular health’ or whatever. Never got any good at it.”

“I do it because it’s good for me, but achtung, I wish I actually liked it,” Klavier sighed. “The fresh air, the endorphins, it’s all gut and well, but you know what I can’t stand? Sweat-soaked hair. Sore ankles and stiff knees. Don’t get me started on the sunburns, ach.”

“Okay, old man,” Apollo chuckled. “You sound like a guy twice your age, you know that?”

“I’m not the one who once said they were starting to prefer blander foods over spicy foods - calling me an old man, mein Gott, the disrespect - ”

A few hours later, Apollo was fully curled up beneath his duvet, head resting on his pillow, eyes closed, with his phone tucked under his ear. Neither of them had spoken in a little while, though Apollo could hear Klavier humming under his breath while he worked on clearing out his email inbox. “...you really should take a day off, Gavin.”

“You first,” Klavier said without missing a beat. “Don’t trick yourself into thinking you have to take every case in the country, ja?”

“Same to you,” Apollo mumbled; he was starting to drift in and out of consciousness. “You’re working, like...stupidly long hours. It’s not like you’re the only prosecutor in the district.”

There was a long pause. “Mama said that to me the other day. She told me I should live a little.”

“And she’s right,” Apollo yawned. “Anyway, I’m not gonna get into this again. And it’s not like you have to do anything major, just...take a day off. Go get a massage or whatever. Hang out with friends, go on a date, I dunno.”

“Go on a date, right,” Klavier drawled sarcastically. “Easier said than done, ja?”

“What, is it the fame thing?” Apollo asked, eyes snapping open in curiosity.

“It’s the, ah. ‘Trusting people’ thing.” Klavier let out a quiet laugh. “After convicting mein Bruder, after convicting someone I thought was my best friend...who’s to say any future romantic partner of mine wouldn’t end up facing that same fate?”

“...oh.” Apollo’s face softened; part of him wanted to see Klavier’s expression, while another part of him had the feeling it was better this way, to only hear the slight rasp, the slight crack in Klavier’s voice as he spoke. He could only imagine the noticeable twitch in Klavier’s eyes, the forced smile on his lips, that he’d seen a surprising amount of times over the past few months. “I see. I-I get it. Not like I’m any good at trusting people, either.”

Klavier went quiet again. “Apollo?”

“I...oh. Yeah?” He couldn’t remember the last time Klavier had called him by his actual name.

“Be honest with me, ja?” Klavier murmured. “When we talk every day, when we text and chat and send each other silly things...is it something you actually like doing, or...or are you just bored?”

Apollo snorted. “Oh please, you know my schedule. I couldn’t be bored if I tried.” He nestled deeper into his pillow, yawning. “Nah, you’re...we’re friends. Talking to you is like...part of my routine now.”

“You mean it?” Klavier asked. He sounded so uncertain that it made Apollo’s heart ache.

“I don’t send stupid memes to just anybody, you know,” Apollo teased. “And look, I’m not pretending like this isn’t weird. If you asked me a year ago if I could see myself talking to you on a daily basis, I would’ve said, y’know, ‘never in a million years’. But things are different now, so...yeah. You’re not so bad, Gavin.”

“Ah, danke. What high praise, coming from you,” Klavier drawled, laughing. “But really, I’m glad to hear it. I...wasn’t sure if I was bothering you. When I called that first time, I suppose I had my answer. Then after that, I never really knew for sure.”

“Now you do,” Apollo affirmed, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling too much.

“Now I do,” Klavier echoed, satisfied. “So, how about you, Forehead? Any clients ask you out again recently?”

“No, thank god,” Apollo said, shuddering. “Besides, I’m, uh. I’m not exactly looking to date right now, either. I’m...I’m pretty good with how things are going at the moment. Maybe after I get back. Thinking about thinking about dating, I mean.”

“Smart.” Klavier’s voice was so clear, so warm, that it almost sounded as if he were in Apollo’s bedroom, too. Apollo briefly wondered what it would be like to have Klavier visit, to wander the farmer’s market with him, to take evening walks along the river and watch the fireflies together, to go through an endless number of cases with him by his side. He had to admit, it didn’t sound half-bad. Better than half-bad, really, not that he was going to say so out loud. “Long-distance is never easy. The time zones, the uncertainty, the inability to truly be together...I can only imagine.”

“Right,” Apollo hummed, his eyes drifting closed once more. “I can only imagine.” When he woke up the next morning, he found a text message waiting for him - a screenshot of Klavier’s home screen; its background was a photo of Apollo and the friendly dog. sehr süß, Klavier had texted, and the hündchen isn’t so bad, either. It was too early, in Apollo’s opinion, for his heart to be racing this quickly.

_____

Almost four months to the day since they started talking, Apollo arrived at the post office with a delivery slip in hand, visibly confused by its earlier presence on his front door. “Was this really meant for me?” he managed to ask in his steadily improving Khura’inese. “I never ordered anything from the United States. Just paying customs would make me broke!”

“It really is for you, Mr. Justice,” the receptionist replied. Apollo watched, stunned, as she dragged a crate-sized package out from behind her desk. “You must have people who really love you back home, sir.”

“I...w-wow.” Apollo didn’t know what to say. “Er, do you have someone who can help me bring this back to my office?”

Twenty minutes later, Apollo was sitting on the floor of Justice Law Offices, embarrassingly sweaty and sore from how much effort it had taken him and one of the post office employees to haul his delivery here. Groaning, he reached for his pocket knife, then carefully sliced through the tape, unwrapping the enormous package layer by layer. When he finally reached its actual contents, he sat back on his haunches, stunned by the sheer amount of items inside.

The package consisted of two sturdy boxes; one was labeled with Ema’s name, so Apollo took it out and set it aside. He then opened the one that bore his name, only to find it was packed surprisingly tight. Boxes and boxes of his favorite snacks that were too expensive to import to Khura’in, well-loved copies of his favorite manga that had clearly been taken from his apartment back home, thick stacks of the most obnoxious California-themed postcards known to humankind with handwritten notes on their backs - before Apollo knew it, his eyes started to well up with emotion. Finally, at the bottom of the box, cushioning the other items nicely, were a few of his sweaters and hoodies, some of which still had a few stray Mikeko hairs on it.

“Oh,” Apollo said faintly, wiping his eyes hastily despite being completely alone. Then, he frowned. “Wait, what is…” He pulled out the only item of clothing he didn’t recognize, an unusually large hoodie in a familiar shade of purple with an embroidered rose on its breast pocket. Stuck to its left sleeve cuff was a sticky note; Apollo peeled it off and began to read what was on it.

herr forehead,

wear this the next time you go out, just in case you run into that hündchen again. It smells just a little bit like my parents’ dog - and like me, if you’re into that sort of thing.

alles liebe, klavier

Later that day - well into the evening, really - Apollo was eating dinner at his desk, rummaging through a hefty stack of police reports, when his laptop pinged, reminding him he had a scheduled video call that was about to start. Grinning, Apollo turned on his webcam, his heart pounding in anticipation. “Hey, Gavin. So, what do you think?”

“What do I think about - oh.” Klavier’s mouth fell open. “You’re...I didn’t think you were actually going to wear it.”

“Is, uh...is that a bad thing?” Apollo asked, suddenly nervous.

“Nein, nein, not at all! You look...achtung, you look good,” Klavier said hoarsely, swallowing. He then cleared his throat; his cheeks were flushed pink, much to Apollo’s delight. “Bitte, stand up for me? I want to see how long it is on you; it’s amazing you haven’t completely disappeared inside of it.”

“Asshole,” Apollo said affectionately, getting out of his chair and taking a few steps back so Klavier could see. He smoothed out the front of the hoodie, realizing belatedly that its hem only just grazed the tops of his bare thighs. “Er, don’t mind my legs. I-I’m wearing shorts underneath, I swear!”

“I don’t mind at all,” Klavier replied, cocking his head. His eyes were darkening, shining with something that Apollo couldn’t quite identify. “Have you worn it outside yet?”

“Nah, not yet. I was actually planning on wearing it to bed since it’s kinda cold, and this thing’s the biggest thing I have,” Apollo admitted, sitting back down. At Klavier’s exaggerated eyebrow raise, he groaned. “Shut up. Don’t make it weird.”

“I said nothing,” Klavier teased, dropping his chin into his hands. “So, did you like our care package? Trucy reached out to me on the same day you ran into that hündchen and asked if I had anything to contribute. I also sent Ema some old Gavinners’ merchandise, in case you didn’t know.”

“Oh, I heard about it from her, alright,” Apollo chuckled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Amazing how you manage to continue torturing her from several continents away. Maybe that’s your real talent.”

“To be fair, I was also the one who got her the beaker shot glasses and the glow-in-the-dark periodic table blanket,” Klavier pointed out, laughing as well. “I think all would be forgiven if she knew that was me.”

“So she gets new stuff and I get hand-me-downs, huh? I see how it is,” Apollo said, tucking his knees into his chest and yawning. “Seriously, though, thanks. This thing smells like that cologne of yours I don’t like.”

“And the backhanded compliments continue,” Klavier said, amused. “I hope you feel a little less homesick, at least.”

“Oh, I’m more homesick than ever,” Apollo snorted. “But I appreciate the care package, really! Having all this stuff here is amazing. It’s just...well. Stuff isn’t, uh...it’s not exactly a substitute for people, y’know?”

Klavier nodded thoughtfully, his smile sympathetic. Apollo took a moment to look at Klavier, to really look at him, and see how he was doing. He looked good; his skin had a glow to it, and his eyes and hair seemed to shine a little brighter than they had the very first time they’d talked. Klavier was bare-faced more often than not - aside from his tattooed eyebrows and eyelash extensions - though he seemed to be experimenting with his hair here and there, occasionally sporting different styles of ponytails, braids, and updos. It almost made Apollo forget how sullen he’d looked four months ago.

“Is that why you’re staring again?” Klavier asked, smirking. “Are you finally ready to admit you miss me, Forehead? That you miss my charming personality and my devastatingly good looks?”

“So what if I do?” Apollo huffed. He then frowned at Klavier’s wide eyes. “...what?”

“Nichts, it’s just - you do realize you just said you actually miss me, ja?” Klavier said disbelievingly. “Do you really mean it, or...or are you just saying that?”

“I-I...well.” Apollo shot him a small smile. “Yeah, Gavin, I miss you. Thought that was, uh. Kinda obvious by now.”

Klavier grinned victoriously; he looked seconds away from pumping his fist into the air. “Achtung, I knew it!”

“And the dorkiness continues,” Apollo said mockingly, rolling his eyes. “I mean it, how did you convince an entire generation of teenagers that you were cool? You go around saying crap like ‘let’s rock with these documents’ and ‘you have to get on up in order to get on down to prosecuting’ - are you an internationally-renowned rockstar, or an awkward dad trying to connect with his teenager through the power of classic rock? What’s next, Gavin, you gonna go buy a lawnmower and some cargo shorts? Fire up the grill and wear a kitschy apron?”

“Mein Gott, you’re vicious sometimes,” Klavier sighed, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Ich vermisse dich auch, by the way. I think I've been...a little more obvious than you.”

“Maybe,” Apollo hummed. “But hey, I’ll take it. It’s nice to feel appreciated for once.”

“When do you think you’ll be coming home?” Klavier asked.

“I’m, er...I’m not sure,” Apollo said hesitantly, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t think I was gonna be sticking around for this long to begin with, and now it’s...it’s gonna be the rest of the year, at least. Maybe even another year on top of that.”

“You...you think so?” Klavier’s voice was small. Nothing about his expression seemed remotely cheerful now.

“It’s not like I can leave whenever I want to,” Apollo shrugged, sighing. “Khura’in needs more defense attorneys before I could even begin to consider it, and that’s not gonna happen overnight. Not with their deeply ingrained feelings towards ‘em.”

“Wait - you’re not still in danger, are you?” Klavier asked worriedly, his voice suddenly filling with urgency. “No threats, no death sentences - ”

“I-I’m fine, Gavin, don’t worry,” Apollo reassured him. “It was a little touch-and-go there for a minute, back at the beginning, but everything’s fine now. Trust me, if something was going on, you would’ve heard about it earlier.”

“Gut,” Klavier said, satisfied. “After all, if something were to happen to you…” An odd expression flitted across his face, too quickly for Apollo to catch, though he had his suspicions. “Well. Trucy would be devastated, natürlich.”

“Right...just Trucy, huh?” Apollo murmured, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. “What about...oh, I dunno. Athena would be upset for sure. Can’t forget Mr. Wright, either.”

“Nein, definitely not,” Klavier said, clearing his throat. He paused before speaking again. “Forehead, do you ever wonder what Herr Wright really thinks of you?”

“Sure, all the time,” Apollo admitted. “We didn’t, uh...well, let’s just say we didn’t start off on the best foot, you know that. Why?”

“Because I do, too,” Klavier confessed. “Ach, I want to go the rest of my life not thinking about mein Bruder and all the lives he ruined, all the lives I helped him ruin, but - ”

“Gavin, that’s not what happened and you know it,” Apollo said gently. “And I’m not exactly sure how Mr. Wright feels about you, but I seriously doubt he still has a problem with you. He probably just feels a little, y’know, awkward. You guys went seven years without knowing the whole truth, after all.”

“Ich weiß, ich weiß, it’s just…” Klavier laughed bitterly. “...I’d like to go at least one day without worrying about what someone else thinks of me. Just one.”

Apollo suddenly found himself wishing he could reach through the screen and pull Klavier into his arms; it wasn’t the first time, and he knew it wasn’t going to be the last. “Well, you don’t have to worry about me. You already know what I think about you.”

“Do I really?” Klavier teased, though he still looked somewhat worried.

“Yeah, sure,” Apollo replied, smirking. “You’re the most insufferable person I’ve ever met. And, uh...I wouldn't have it any other way. I think.”

Klavier laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “You have a way with words, Forehead, you really do.”

“Thanks,” Apollo drawled, chuckling. “So, today’s case went about as well as expected - meaning it didn’t go well at all…”

_____

Khura’in was beautiful year-round, Apollo mused as he walked alongside the riverbank, but it was especially picturesque in the height of spring, during the month of May. He’d woken up unusually early today, especially given it was one of his very rare days off, not to mention the fact that he’d stayed up late last night, talking to Trucy, Athena, and Phoenix. For whatever reason, he had felt like taking his breakfast - anpan and a warm thermos of green tea - outside, while the sun was still rising. It was a peaceful backdrop for the start of what he hoped would be a peaceful day.

Yawning and stretching, Apollo dropped down to sit in the long grass, the worn-out toes of his boots grazing the water’s edge. He lifted his saddlebag off his shoulders and set it aside, raking his fingers through his hair. It was getting quite long in the back, he noted, but he didn’t care enough to cut it. Before he could take his first bite of his anpan, his phone started to ring. “...Gavin? What’s up, aren’t you going to bed soon?”

“I just wrote a song for the first time in ages, so I’m too alert to sleep at the moment,” Klavier admitted, his voice deeper and raspier than usual, sending shivers up Apollo’s spine. “I’m surprised you’re awake, too. It was only when I started calling you that I realized you were probably still in bed.”

“Felt like catching the sunrise for once.” Apollo turned on his phone camera, then switched it to the rear-facing one so Klavier could see what he was seeing. The entirety of Khura’in, it seemed, was momentarily bathed in a warm, yellow-orange glow. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s wunderschön,” Klavier remarked, awed. “Almost makes me wish I was in Khura’in.”

“I wish you were here, too,” Apollo said quietly. His eyes then widened. “Er, I-I mean - ”

“...Apollo?” Groaning internally, Apollo fumbled with his phone, reluctantly switching to his front-facing camera so he could shoot Klavier a nervous smile. He could see now that Klavier had turned on his camera, too; he appeared to be sitting on his bedroom floor, leaning up against a window, his face illuminated by moonlight. Somehow, his blue eyes were even brighter in the darkness, the angles of his jaw and cheekbones sharpened by the shadows. Apollo’s breath hitched as he was momentarily rendered speechless. “Achtung, you still manage to surprise me after all this time.”

“I-I said nothing!” Apollo said hastily. “You’re - I - i-it’s early, I don’t know what I’m saying!”

“If you’re planning on staying for even longer, I really should come and visit, ja?” Klavier continued, his grin equal parts sleepy and teasing. “For one thing, I can finally make good on that massage I promised you, get all that stress and tension out of your body. I could also bring you more of my clothes, since you seem to really like that hoodie of mine.”

“What would you even do here, anyway?” Apollo asked, momentarily looking away so Klavier wouldn’t see how red his cheeks had gotten. “There’s no nightlife, barely any recreational activities...not to mention the wi-fi kinda sucks. Besides, it’s not like you’re allowed to prosecute in Khura’in.”

“Let me be your co-counsel,” Klavier offered. “After all, if Herr Blackquill can help Athena, why can’t I help you?”

“That...would be kinda interesting, actually,” Apollo admitted. “And where would you stay?”

“WIth you, natürlich,” Klavier replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “After all, if you want me there, I should be as close as possible. I’d make the perfekt roommate, you know. I can cook for you, clean for you...it’d be domestic, nein? Like I’m your stay-at-home husband or something.”

Apollo shivered again. Despite his distaste for his lyrics, Klavier certainly had a way with words. “You wouldn’t be...I dunno, bored out of your mind? Things are definitely slower here compared to California, you know.”

“The change of pace would be nice,” Klavier said diplomatically. “And I certainly wouldn’t complain about the company.”

“Well, uh, sorry to break up your super-specific fantasy, but I think I’m actually pretty close to getting out of here,” Apollo said, trying not to linger too much on his own mental picture of what Klavier had described. “Another few months, maybe? Six, at most. And since it’s sorta unknown, I wouldn’t recommend booking plane tickets anytime soon.”

“Really?” Klavier perked up. “You’re coming home? Have you told the others?”

“Yeah, I talked to ‘em last night,” Apollo said, setting his phone down by his bag so he could finally take his first bite of anpan. “It’ll be weird once I return, that’s for sure. I’ve been in Khura’in for exactly one year, right down to the day, but...well. It’s definitely grown on me, even with all my...my mixed feelings about it. Though I, um...I guess those mixed feelings are more about a person than a place, and he’s...he’s, well...you know.” He swallowed thickly, reaching for his thermos and taking a generous gulp of his tea.

“Any regrets?” Klavier asked softly.

“About Khura’in, or d’you mean in general?” Apollo asked, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his nervous laugh.

“However you’d like to interpret it,” Klavier said, gesturing aimlessly. “I can be generous sometimes.”

“Yeah, real philanthropist, you are,” Apollo retorted, chuckling. “Well, you know I’ve had days where, like. I feel like I shouldn’t have stayed behind, after all. Like I’m way in over my head, and..like I’m not...not good enough. Like I’m just winging this whole thing, which is scary, ‘cos it’s like the entire country’s future is in my hands, and I can’t just - I can’t improvise. I can’t make it up as I go along, I-I have to know it. Do it, be about it. Make it my whole life, you know?” He stopped to take a breath; the sympathetic crinkle of Klavier’s brow was more welcome this time. “But no, I don’t regret sticking around. I just wish I’d gotten some closure.”

“Closure?” Klavier echoed.

“Yeah, there’s...I’ve got stuff I wish I’d been able to do or, or say before I ended up living here for twelve months,” Apollo confessed. “It’s not like I knew I was moving here when I did, so...it’ll be nice to head back home and settle in and...and get all of that out of the way.” He took a few more bites of his anpan as they ruminated in their shared silence. “How about you? Any regrets about, well, anything?”

“Me?” Then, to Apollo’s surprise - though maybe not to his surprise, given all that had been said and done between the two of them, just the two of them - Klavier let out a bitter laugh. “Always.”

Apollo’s face softened. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly, nein,” Klavier said, visibly shuddering. “Just once, I’d like to not drag our conversation down. Ach, and I used to think you were the buzzkill. Now look at me, ja?”

“Don’t worry about it, Gavin,” Apollo insisted. “I get it, you - you feel things really intensely. I know that now, and, uh. Well, I do it, too. And we hold it all in and we don’t say anything ‘cos there’s bigger things to worry about, a-and then it’s like...like a dam breaks. Like everything just comes rushing at you all at once. There’s no way of stopping it, as much as you want to, and when it’s finally over...you never know how to feel about it. Because it’s not cut and dry, i-it’s not black-and-white, it’s just...it just is. So you move on, ‘cos there’s nothing else you can do about it, and you keep going. And then it starts all over again.” He let out an awkward laugh. “Or, uh, or maybe I’m just describing what a trial feels like.” Apollo glanced back at his phone, only to see Klavier staring at him in wonderment. “...er, too much?”

“Not at all, it’s just...you’re always full of surprises,” Klavier murmured; he almost sounded impressed. “That was incredibly astute, especially for you.”

Apollo wilted. “...thanks. Glad to know you think so highly of my intellect.” Still, Klavier’s warm laughter managed to get him to crack a smile. “So, you said something about writing a new song? How’d that go?”

“I had a burst of inspiration, you might say,” Klavier said, nodding. “Like my muse sat beside me on the piano bench and hummed a melody in my ear.”

“That sounds more creepy than anything else, but okay,” Apollo snorted. “Can I hear it?”

“Nein, not yet,” Klavier replied mysteriously. “When the time is right, ja? Besides, it’s...it’s a bit personal.”

Apollo shifted slightly in his spot. “Personal, huh?”

“It’s about...someone who means a lot to me, and something I’ve been meaning to say to them,” Klavier said carefully. “Because...I’ve been looking for closure, too. And possibly, if I do it right, I might also get a new beginning. Does that make sense?”

“It’s a little cheesy, but, uh, yeah. Makes sense.” Apollo pulled his knees into his chest, resting his chin on top of them with a quiet exhale. “Do I know this someone of yours?”

“Ja, definitely,” Klavier murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “And they’re not mine, but...I want them to be.”

“I...I see.” Apollo felt his own pulse pounding in his ears, so loudly that he could barely hear his own voice. “Hey, Gavin, I - I wanted to - there’s something I’ve been wanting to say, and...and I…”

“What is it?” Klavier asked, sitting up, hopeful.

“Well, I...no, n-never mind.” Apollo cleared his throat. “Probably should, um. I should probably save it for when we see each other in person.” Klavier leaned back, disappointed. “Anyway, you, uh, you should probably sleep now if you wanna be awake enough for work. Unless you take the day off like I did.”

“I might actually consider it,” Klavier chuckled. “And we’ll talk tomorrow, ja? Or later today for you, I suppose.”

“Definitely,” Apollo confirmed, nodding.

Something in Klavier’s eyes seemed to shift then, something Apollo couldn’t quite understand. It happened more and more with each passing day, with every conversation, and Apollo wasn’t sure if he was ready to figure out what it meant, if it meant something other than what he hoped it meant. “Du siehst wunderschön aus in diesem licht.”

Apollo blinked. “Sorry?”

“Never mind,” Klavier said, a sleepy grin stretching across his face. “Guten Morgen to you, Herr Forehead.”

“And goodnight to you, Gavin,” Apollo replied, waving briefly before ending the call. He sat in silence for a few minutes, finishing his tea and enjoying the sun’s warmth. Then, he stood, stretching his arms over his head, and smoothed out the creases in his pants and what was now his oversized purple hoodie. “Someday,” he mumbled to himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder and turning back in the direction of the bazaar. “Just...not yet.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my fifth entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the second of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. However, as I mentioned in the top notes, day seven is a sequel to this one, so look out for it! This is the second-longest fic of all my Klapollo Week fics, and for good reason - I could've easily included an endless number of random conversations and made this fic twice as long if it weren't for the posting deadline. One of my favorite things about writing Klapollo is their back-and-forth, so I love writing fics where they simply just...talk, and hang out. And I know it's definitely a concept that's been done before, but someday, I wanna write my own version of "Klavier visits Apollo in Khura'in and they fall (more) in love". That might end up being my longest Klapollo fic yet 😜

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #not sure if this one or day seven is my favorite #i definitely wanna write an extended version of this in the future

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katzkinder · 4 years

Text

Pomegranate Seeds, Give My Life To Thee

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

Mahiru hates the way his Servamp talks.

There were a number of things Mahiru disliked about Kuro.

Getting oil on the controllers, leaving crumbs and empty chip bags behind, forgetting to take stuff out of his pockets before chucking his dirty laundry into the bin, not managing to make the dirty laundry get to the bin at all, and most annoying was certainly Kuro’s habit of snacking just before meal times.

But these were all small things. Minor things. Things that Kuro had, he had to admit, improved upon since they had begun living together. The sort of things you’d expect from someone who had essentially lived for who knows how long as a bachelor (he thinks? He’s still honestly not sure on just what kind of relationship Kuro and Gear had had in the past. Thinking too hard on it made his heart twist) and then however many decades as a homeless bum. And he was proud of him! Of course he was.

These were things he could overlook. Easily help Kuro improve on. Nag him into submission about, though the housewife and “yes mommy” jokes were getting stale. But there were some things, some habits, some phrases… He just couldn’t stand. And it ate at him.

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

“Who cares? I’m immortal.”

“I do.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Kuro blinked up at him, lackadaisical in even his surprise at how… Firmly it had come out. The bag of chips, once full of empty calories and now empty itself thanks to the Servamp’s habitual snacking, crinkled noisily in the still air. The burgeoning argument over Kuro’s dietary habits had come to a halt before it even really started, yet somehow Mahiru felt as if it would have been better, simpler to just let it play out like usual.

Mahiru couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when all these bubbling, festering, unpleasant feelings were reaching a boiling point over such a tiny phrase.

He swallowed, Kuro’s eyes flicking down momentarily to track the motion in his throat, then back to his eyes, and Mahiru felt another pang, along with another stroke of anger that quickly cooled to simmering annoyance.

“You’re starving yourself again, aren’t you?”

Kuro broke their impromptu staring contest at the accusation, gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere else in the tiny apartment living room as he literally turned his back on his Eve, returning to the safe, artificial light and colorful world of his handheld.

“I was literally just eating chips,” he mumbled, all the petulance of a child who knows they are guilty in his drawled words. He scooched the empty bag closer to himself, posture practically screaming that he wanted Mahiru to let it alone, let the sleeping lion lie.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“... Why does it matter? It’s not like there’s any danger here. I’m fine. I’m-”

“Yes! I get it! You’re immortal! But... that’s not the problem!”

He was also not very fond of the way Kuro never wanted to address anything until things were nearly as a breaking point.

The heat in his chest was back, along with a bit of bitter satisfaction at the way his outburst had made Kuro turn to really look at him. But then his partner was standing, and the look on his face was so full of concern, gingerly taking the laundry basket from Mahiru’s hands and setting it aside so that they could stand face to face and Mahiru resisted the urge to bow his head in shame. The vampire caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it in a way that worried Mahiru.

A gentle thumb just below it made Kuro freeze, sanguine eyes widening ever so slightly when Mahiru carefully pulled it free, voice uncharacteristically gentle for his scolding.

“Stop that. You’ll make yourself bleed.”

“... Sorry. Didn’t even realize I was doing it…”

“That seems to be a running theme with you.” Mahiru winced ever so slightly at the harsher than he’d meant wording, but Kuro didn’t seem to mind. Or, at the least, was too concerned with other matters to mind at the moment.

“Mahi…” Kuro’s voice had taken on that softer, more raspy quality that Mahiru recognized as sincerity, and coupled with the nickname, he couldn’t help but soften just a bit more himself. “I…” Another pause, Kuro moving to take his lip between his teeth again but managing to stop himself. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mahiru reached for it, carefully interlocking their hands. “What is the problem, then? This… Isn’t just about the blood, is it?”

Biting down a snarky comment, Mahiru replied, “No, it’s not,” gripping the larger hand in his own more securely, knowing far too well that Kuro was liable to bolt. He’d been getting better about that, too, but his issues with taking blood were particularly touchy for him, he’d found. He hoped that, one day, the other would be able to be candid about it with him. To tell him the why and the how. Until then, though... It was better safe than sorry. “But if you keep it up I’ll start hiding it in your food like a cat who won’t take his pills.” Kuro snorted, relief making his shoulders sag and stiff posture unwind. If Mahiru was joking, it wasn’t that serious. He hoped. “So? What gives. Talk to me. It’s not like you to just… Suddenly explode like that.”

It was Mahiru’s turn to look guilty, staring at their joined hands and Kuro’s pale, almost translucent skin. There was the faintest scar on the webbing of his thumb, and his nails were getting long again. He’d have to trim them for him soon. The vampire, he’d found, was prone to either chewing them down to the quick or clipping them too short. It was simpler to do it for him, and had become part of the routine of their lives. He didn’t mind it. Enjoyed it, even, if only for the excuse it gave him to hold Kuro’s hand, admire his long, elegant fingers and the difference between them and his own sun kissed ones smattered with freckles.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t even know where to start?”

A finger at his chin, lifting his gaze back to Kuro’s, red, red eyes focused on him and so, so worried.

Why can’t you worry about yourself like that?

“Keep it simple, then.”

Having his own life motto parroted back to him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course. Simple was best. And simply thinking… He just needed to say what he felt.

“Earlier, what you said…" he began, words slowly picking up steam as he found his voice again, found his thoughts again, "About how you don’t really care, because you’re immortal? It kinda... Pissed me off.”

A stunned look, Kuro once again blinking owlishly at him, no doubt thrown for a loop by the rare swear dropping from the Eve's lips. “O… kay? I won’t… Say it anymore?”

Still missing the point, huh?

How did he ever end up with such a dumbass vampire?

Mahiru extricated his hand, instead cupping Kuro’s face, ensuring that the vampire of Sloth had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. In fact, when you don’t, it… It hurts! It hurts a lot. Because you’re important to me. Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you suffer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh." The words were coming faster now, louder, more desperate, as if this were somehow his only chance to get them all out and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Didn't want to, because holding it in was so much more painful. "And not just that, either! When you say things like you want to kill yourself, or that you want to die, or that it’s fine that you got hurt… I hate those too! I really, really, hate it...”

His voice cracked on the last word, embarrassingly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, not when Kuro had a dawning look of realization, not when halting hands were reaching for him as the Servamp’s face twisted with contrite, not when he really, really wanted the hug that was being sort of half offered to him. He stepped forward, let Kuro embrace him, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs and all that awfulness he had been hoarding with it. He really... Wasn't okay at all, was he?

“It scares me… And I’m sorry I got mad at you-”

“I’m sorry, too. For not… Noticing that it bothered you so much.”

“... I mean. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m… Kind of really good at hiding when something is bugging me. To be honest…” He snuggled closer into Kuro’s chest, shut his eyes and breathed deep, that mixture of misty mornings and his body wash because of course Kuro was too lazy to pick out his own, all layered over the subtle metallic tang that seemed to cling to every vampire he met. It was soothing. It felt like home, and safety, the same but different as his uncle. Like everything would be okay, if only he just stayed right where he was. “I don’t think I even realized how badly it bothered me myself until just now…”

Kuro hummed, Mahiru feeling the vibrations under his ear and against his cheek. “That seems to be a running theme with you.”

“Ass.” A light thwack to his shoulder, Kuro releasing a little puff of amusement.

“My bad. Couldn’t resist. We’re both… Pretty similar, huh…?”

“I guess so. Who would have thought?”

A pat or two to his back and Kuro drew away, Mahiru reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll clean up my mess, and, um, once I’m done…” The human blinked, head tilting curiously when Kuro cleared his throat, scratched at his cheek. It could sorely use some color. “Maybe we can figure out an, uh… Feeding schedule? Or something?” He gave a helpless sort of half shrug, quickly dropping it when all he got in return was a blank stare. “Sorry, forget it, dumb idea, just thought it would, like, help or something. I dunno-”

“No!” Kuro jumped at his shout, his anxious rambling cutting off and replaced instead with anxious finger fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands while Mahiru rapidly moved to reassure him. “No, feeding schedule is great! In fact, let me get a marker for the calendar and my phone while you do that.”

It was a small thing. A minor thing. Something that shouldn’t even be a problem to begin with. But it was a step towards getting Kuro to take proper care of himself. To value himself. Even if he was only suggesting it to comfort his Eve…

Mahiru tried and failed to hold down the amused little smile sprouting when he sighted the red at the tips of Kuro’s ears, quickly padding out the living room and leaving Kuro to his task, and the dirty laundry in its basket in the middle of the otherwise clear space.

No matter what the reason, it was a step in the right direction. For the both of them.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #mahiru shirota #servamp kuro #pawprints #i'm supposed to be working on a billion other things #instead im writing a oneshot in one sitting because i had a need #a need for kuromahi #also this had two drafts because i edited the original on my google docs and #the editing didn't #stick #pain #suffering even

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 18

A/N: This chapter got away from me a bit. It’s over 6 thousand words so tuck in guys. I hope you like it. And as I’ve said before, any time a character gets sick in this, it’s nothing more than a flu or common bug. Given this is a Before chapter, COVID didn't exist, but just given the situation currently. I feel like it is important to say that. Just a note on temperature. According to Google 52 degrees F is roughly 11 degrees C. 45 degrees F is roughly 6 degrees C. For my fellow non-USians. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em

Winter formal was upon us. It was only one day out now. Jeff was still on me about going, like he had been for weeks. I still had no intention of going. And as luck would have it, I had just run into the perfect excuse not to go. I woke up Friday morning to my stomach cramping and churning. Oh god this is awful. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Before I even had time to wake up wake up, I rolled over and grabbed my trashcan. My body shook as I coughed. Sitting up, I flung my legs over the side of my bed. My mom knocked on the door. “Addison? Are you alright honey?”

“Yeah Mom. I’m okay. Just not feeling very well.” She opened the door and peeked inside.

“Let me check your temperature.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” Mum looked around the room cautiously.

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs. Come down whenever you’re ready.” I nodded and held my stomach.

I went downstairs once my teeth were cleaned and I had rinsed my mouth several times. Mum and dad were in the kitchen. I groaned. The smell of coffee brewing was making me queasy. “I already called the school. You’re staying home today.” Mum said, coming to fawn over me. I waved her off.

“Okay. I’ll call Justin and tell him he needs to get himself to school.” I grabbed a pack of saltines and a Gatorade to take upstairs.

“Feel better.” Dad called after me. I heard him say to mum that it probably wasn’t really that bad. “She should still go to school.” Mum didn’t answer. I changed into a different pair of pyjamas and crawled into bed. My crackers and juice were set neatly on the nightstand by my bed. I grabbed the book I was reading last night. As a last-minute decision, I grabbed my trash can and pulled it closer to the bed.

I called Justin after I got comfortable. “Hello?”

“Morning Justy.”

“Morning Addy.”

“I’m sick.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to find your own way to school today.”

“I can do that. Are you sure you’re sick? Or are you just trying to get out of going to Formal?”

“I have crackers and Gatorade. I wasn’t even out of bed yet.”

“Oh.” He exclaimed. “Um. Yeah. You stay in bed. And remember to drink water. And dry toast.”

“I will. Can you grab my homework? And tell Jeff Atkins that I’m sorry I won’t get to enjoy the magic of Winter Formal tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Feel better.”

“Mhmm. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I rolled over in bed and tried to get a little more sleep. It was a useless venture. I spent half an hour tossing and turning. I couldn’t get comfortable. It was too hot with the blankets on. It was too cold with them off. One leg out didn’t feel much better. My head was starting to hurt. My stomach was doing flips and cramping. Frustrated, I threw the covers off and went to the bathroom. The bottle of Tylenol was shoved in the back of the medicine cabinet. I took two of the foil packets and went back to bed.

Briefly, my mind went there. I had a flash of another kind of foil packet. And a flash of a calendar. My eyes widened slightly before I counted. Then I remembered that we hadn’t not used a condom, ever. I had an IUD. We were protected either way for…. I couldn’t think the word. We also hadn’t had sex in a month. And I had gotten my period between then and now. I sighed in relief. That thought did make me realize I hadn’t texted Monty yet. I took my phone again and saw that he had texted me about fifteen minutes ago.

Morning Addison. I swiped left and his message opened.

Morning Montgomery.

You’re up late this morning.

I’ve actually been up.

Oh? Everything okay?

Yes and no.

I’m kind of sick. But it’s nothing to worry about.

You sure?

Yeah. I’m alright. Just need to eat my crackers, drink my juice, and sleep. On the plus side, I can get out of going to the dance without lying to Jeff Atkins.

I can come by tonight if you want.

I’ll think about it.

Okay. A few minutes later he sent me another text. Why do you call him Jeff Atkins and not just Jeff?

I dunno. He calls me Addison Hawthorne. No one else does it. It’s kind of just a thing we do.

Can I call you by your full name?

No.

Not even occasionally?

No.

Why?

Is your name Jeff Atkins?

No?

Then there is your answer.

Fine, fine. Feel better, okay?

I’ll try.

I’ll text you later baby.

Mmkay. The Tylenol I took was starting to kick in and my eyelids were getting heavy. Before I could drop it, I put my phone on the nightstand. I woke up again around noon. My stomach was feeling a little better, so I sat up and ate a few crackers slowly. The medicine had worn off by now. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my missed notifications for a bit. Nothing too interesting had happened. I sighed heavily and tossed my phone to the side of my bed.

My book was more interesting than I expected it to be, and soon enough I was almost done. The tri-tone buzz of my phone distracted me. I rested the book in my lap and grumbled to myself. “Who’s texting me now?” It was Jeff Atkins.

Hey Addison Hawthore. Justin tells me you’re sick. I hope you aren’t trying to just avoid the dance.

Jeff Atkins. I would NEVER. I am definitely sick. Doesn’t seem like anything major though. Probably be at school Monday. I trust you will give me a very thorough report on all things Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker?

Glad to hear. Leah says feel better by the way. I’ll find you.

Tell her thank you. Now. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m almost done my book.

See you Monday Addison. I didn’t answer him. I texted Monty instead.

Don’t worry about coming over tonight. I should be fine by Sunday. I’ll see you Monday.

Sounds good.

The rest of the day I lounged in bed. My mum came in to check on me when she got home. Saturday was much of the same as Friday. I stayed in bed. I read another book. I slept. My illness was doing better. Not well enough to go to the dance, but I could handle toast which was a good sign. Justin called me while he was getting ready at Bryce’s.

“Hey Justin, what’s up?”

“Getting ready with Bryce and the guys.” I could hear the boys roughhousing in the background and Justin’s voice seemed far away. He must have had me on speaker.

“Hi boys.”

“Hey.” They called back.

“You stuck me with him tonight.”

“I’m sick Bryce. I would not be very much fun or help at the dance tonight.”

“You say you’re sick.” Bryce kidded back. He must be in a good mood.

“Would you like me to describe to you in detail what I spent my day doing yesterday?”

“Not really.”

“Didn’t think so. Now boys.”

“Yeah Addy?” Justin asked.

“I need all of your attention.”

“We’re listening.” Zach laughed.

“Oh no. Is she going to give us the lecture?”

“What lecture?” Anders asked.

“Yes. She is.” I said. “Please try to keep the shenanigans to a minimum.”

“But they’re fun.” Justin complained.

“So is not getting arrested. Do not add to the population. Remember that is often a permanent commitment. However, I do support the right to choose. Do not fight anyone tonight. And please, for the love of God, if you are going to drink, do not spike the punch bowl. Do not be that guy. And don’t be messy drunk. I want to hear no stories about messy drunk athletes come Monday. And another thing, do not drink and drive. If you need a ride, my mum is perfectly happy to go get you and take you home.”

“She took the fun out of a dance in two minutes.” Someone grumbled.

“That was not me taking the fun out. I’m more than okay with some shenanigans. I encourage some. Please have fun for me. I just don’t want you getting anyone pregnant. You’re all old enough to go to the drugstore or the corner store and buy yourselves some damn condoms. If I can go do it, so can you. As for the drinking and driving thing, a DUI is bad. Especially when you’re underage. My mum likes Justin. So she will gladly give someone a ride if they need.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You have condoms?” Bryce asked.

“I’m not the Virgin Mary.”

“Who could you possibly be having sex with?”

“None of your business. And I swear Bryce if you say Justin.” I laughed. I may have said too much.

“You’ll what?”

“She won’t anything. I will.” Justin laughed.

“Oh! One more thing. Don’t screw up Clay’s night.”

“Fine. We won’t. Gotta go, bye.” Bryce said. I could hear him grumbling before Justin hung up. “Wonder how far she’ll go with Jensen, hey Justy?” I rolled my eyes. How can he go from fun and not horrible to a disgusting pig in thirty seconds flat?

By Monday, I was back to feeling like myself. I grabbed a soft cream sweater from my closet and paired it with a floral skirt. A worn in pair of black combat boots and silver studs rounded out the look. I left my hair down to let it air dry without a weird kink in it. Bounding down the stairs, I smiled brightly at my parents. “Morning mum. Morning dad.”

“Morning sweetie.” My mum laughed brightly. My dad looked at me strangely.

“You’re awfully happy this morning.” My smile faltered slightly.

“Well, I’m not physically sick today. I think that warrants being happy. And it’s the last few days before winter break.” There was a voice in the back of my head I tried to ignore. I was happy. I plastered on a smile and grabbed a packet of oatmeal. Silently, I warmed my milk and stirred my breakfast. My parents were going over their schedules for the day. It was just about grade deadline for mum, so she had a stack of tests and papers in her office. Dad was already prepping for tax season in a couple of months. The office at work was stacked too, I’m sure.

“I’m going to take this to school.” I mumbled.

At school, I grabbed my cup of oatmeal to eat before class. “Peaches and cream. Interesting.”

“Jesus.” I gasped. “Morning Monty.”

“Morning Addy.” I began walking to my locker. He fell into step beside me.

“Did you need something?” I was sure people were watching us.

“No. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Okay? You know we are at school, right?”

“Yes. We have chemistry together. Is it really so bad to walk to your locker together?”

“I don’t know Monty.”

“For all anyone knows, I’m looking for Bryce. Who will probably be with Justin. Who will be at your locker.”

“I guess.” I sighed. I handed him my cup of oatmeal. “If you’re going to follow me to my locker, hold this while I get my spoon.” Pulling my bag around me, I took the spoon from the front pocket. Monty handed back my breakfast for me to eat while we walked.

“Peaches and cream oatmeal.” He muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just making a mental note.” He smirked. I could see the smile behind his eyes though.

“It was on sale. It was this or plain and plain oatmeal is….”

“Plain.”

“Exactly.”

We made it to my locker, where it just so happened that Justin was waiting for me. With my least favorite white boy in tow. “Hey Justin. Walker.”

“Addy.” Bryce nodded.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. What did I miss Friday?”

“Not a whole lot.” Justin shrugged.

“A better question would be what did we miss?” Bryce asked, looking between Monty and I.

“I was on my way in when I saw her pull in. Figured I’d stop and tell her about what she missed in chem.”

“Which apparently wasn’t much.” I shrugged, scraping the last of my breakfast up. “I need to go to class. I expect a full report on what I missed at the dance at lunch.”

“Jeff will give you one. Don’t worry.” Justin laughed. “You’re awfully invested in Clay and Hannah.”

“I could have been invested in you and Hannah. But….” I looked at Bryce briefly. “Here we are.”

“I don’t think she put out for him, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Monty added.

“Gross.”

“Don’t think he would even know how.” Bryce laughed.

“And I’m leaving. Be nice boys.”

My classes were abuzz with talk of the Winter Formal. Mostly talking about what so and so wore, or who such and such was dancing with, or that one song Tony played that went like this or that. Clearly, I hadn’t missed much. Apparently, Jessica had had one or four too many nips off Bryce’s flask. I rolled my eyes internally. I mean, at least the boys weren’t messy. By the time lunch came, I was excited to hear about anything that wasn’t the dance. I knew, of course, that wouldn’t be the case. But still.

Sliding into my usual seat next to Justin, I placed my head on the table. “What’s eating you?” Scott asked.

“Nothing. I’m just bored of hearing about the dance.”

“It wasn’t that bad. And you haven’t heard Jeff’s retelling of Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker’s dance.”

“I want to hear about that. And then nothing else.” He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously though, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a long weekend is all. Guess it knocked more out of me than I thought.” I heard him hum. Jeff laughed jovially as he sat down. How can one man be so damn happy all the time?

“You missed quite the dance on Saturday, Addison.”

“It seems that way. Though, anything would be better than what I spent the weekend doing.”

“Fair. You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Just tired now.”

“I bet. Now. About the dance. More specifically, Clay and Hannah at the dance.”

“Yes. And then no more dance talk please.”

“Okay. So, Clay was being a wallflower.”

“As usual.”

“Yes. But he was sitting on the bleachers across the gym from Hannah. And he waved and nodded at her. When I told him to go, he was all ‘I can’t dance’ and so I was like ‘no one can dance. It’s a dance.’”

“Of course. No one likes the ones who can dance.”

“That’s what I said! He was awkward as hell and then they were cute. Danced around like idiots. Had the best time. Leah thought it was fantastic. I was waiting for the slow song that was coming. Or I hoped it was. And then it did. They were awkward again.”

“Right.” I adjusted my position and leaned in to listen to him better.

“Hey gu-.” Justin said, sitting down.

“Shh.” Charlie cut him off. “Jeff is telling a story.”

“They almost kissed.”

“Almost?”

“But then Jess….”

“Ah, this part of the story I know. She was messy. And Hannah cleaned it up.”

“Yes. But that was the dance. Good time.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” The boys around me spent the rest of lunch having their own conversations. Or giving me their own rundown of the dance. I tuned most of that out. It was hard to pretend not to notice the small glances Monty was sending my way. I sent a few his way too.

Christmas break, finals, and January flew by. Before any of us knew it, it was February. Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Which, if you didn’t know from looking at the calendar, you certainly knew by the annual Oh My Dollar Valentines posters. There were little heart shaped boxes of chocolate at all the stores in town. The price of roses soared exponentially. I rolled my eyes as I passed one the first day of February. Justin tried to get me to buy one that day.

“No. I’m not interested in paying for cheer camp.”

“You’re always on my ass about school spirit.”

“Yeah. Because like it or not, you and your friends run this school. School spirit is not paying for the wonderful cause of sending the squad to cheer camp.”

“Fine.” He grinned mischievously at me. I watched him reach into his pocket as we passed one of the many tables lining the halls. “Two Dollar Valentines please.” My eyes widened.

“Justin. No.”

“Oh but it’ll be fun.” He laughed.

“I don’t care.” I couldn’t help but smile. He held it out to me, but I shook my head. “No way.”

“Suit yourself. I know you well enough to fill it out for you anyways.” Justin grinned and stuck his tongue out at me. You little shit. I reached out to grab the paper from him. I was going to return it. He held it above his head. I tried to grab it again and he waved his arm around.

“Give it to me.” I laughed.

“Nope. Get taller and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well then I guess you won’t be getting the survey.” I huffed at him. He lowered his arms and I tried to take it again. He pushed my hand away and took off running. “It’ll be an exciting surprise.” Justin yelled as he ran.

“Justin Foley!” I yelled back. I love that boy. But sometimes I just want to…. Oh. What am I going to tell Monty?I sighed and turned around, intending to cut Justin off at his first class and steal the stupid survey from him. When I turned however, I collided with someone.

“We should really stop running into each other like this. People might think we are together or something.” Monty said.

“Or they’ll think you have a thing for me. Since you seem to be the one who always approaches me.”

“That is definitely a possibility.” He handed me my keys. “Might need these later. Wouldn’t want someone finding them and trying to use them.” He started to walk away backwards. I followed after him.

“I highly doubt someone would try to steal an ’09 Camry.”

“Never know.”

“Besides. It’s Evergreen County. Nothing ever happens here.”

“True. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah. I need to have some words with Justin Foley.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“Maybe.” I rose a brow. Monty gave me a funny look. “I’ll explain later.”

At lunch I stopped Justin in the hall on the way to the cafeteria. Pulling him into an empty classroom, I locked the door. “I need that survey back Justin.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no interest in going on a valentines date with someone. You know I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“It could be fun.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well, you have thirteen days to change your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I submitted it on the way to second period.” I blinked at him. Did he just say…?

“You what?”

“I submitted it already. You’ll be receiving a list of ‘promising matches’ on Valentine’s Day.” Oh no. Throwing my head back, I sighed very heavily.

“I hate you.” I groaned.

“I love you too Addy.” Justin brushed past me to leave. “I’ll save you a seat?”

“Nope. That’s okay. I need a break from the testosterone today.”

“Okay.” As soon as he was gone, I texted Monty.

Hey. I need to talk to you. Can you meet me in the library?

Yeah. Bring a book?

Please. My locker was on the way, so I grabbed my books for the rest of the day.

There was a table free in the back of the room. I snagged it so Montgomery and I could have some privacy. He found me a little while later. I was pretending to be taking notes. In actuality, I was doodling and trying not to think about his reaction to Justin’s little stunt. Or reactions. “What’s going on?” He asked as he sat down.

“Hi to you too.”

“Sorry. Hi. What’s going on?”

“So don’t freak out.”

“Don’t start with don’t freak out and I won’t freak out.”

“Justin uh,” I paused.

“Justin? What?”

“Justin filled out and submitted a Dollar Valentine for me.” I quickly added, “I didn’t ask him to. He just bought it and did it. I was going to get it back from him at lunch, but he submitted it on his way to second.” I looked up. Monty was staring at me. And he was… what is he doing? And then his lip twitched. He was trying not to laugh. “What?”

“That’s what this is about? That is what was so urgent?”

“Yes?”

“The fact that Justin Foley filled out a Dollar Valentine for you?”

“Yes?” I was extremely confused.

“Addison. I really don’t care if he filled out a stupid survey for you. Are you going to go on the date?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.” I was still a little hesitant to say anything. “Oh. I should probably mention. I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” He frowned in confusion.

“Yes. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“I know. Which is why I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s the least romantic holiday. If you want to do something nice for me, or get me flowers, show me that you like me, do it on a random day. Not when you have to because it’s a Hallmark holiday.” I was careful not to say the word love. It may have been five months, which is a long time in high school, but we weren’t there yet.

“So, you’re a romantic who hates Valentine’s Day. Okay. Coffee date though?”

“Sure. But not because of what day it is.”

“No. Of course not.” Monty winked at me and then got up to leave. “Come find me after school.” I nodded.

“I’m going to stay here and make Justin sweat a little.”

The next couple of weeks passed slowly. I had forgiven Justin for filling out a Valentine for me a couple of days after he submitted it. After school on the thirteenth, I ran to Walplex to get ingredients for macarons. I browsed the aisles in search of almond flour and raspberry flavouring. Before I left the lot, I texted Monty. Turns out you’re worth it after all. He was busy with practice. I didn’t expect an answer any time soon.

At home, I unloaded my ingredients and put the carton of egg whites in a bowl of lukewarm water to come to room temperature without overheating them. “Hey Siri. Play State Champs on Spotify.”

“Playing State Champs.” I sang along quietly while I went about making my macarons. I said very kind and loving things to the batter aloud. In my head, I was swearing at them with words that would make a sailor blush. He really is worth it.

Dad came home while I was piping the batter onto the Silpat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Making macarons for my friends.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” I shrugged. Dad scoffed and shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” He snapped. My face didn’t react. Inside, I felt the familiar sensation of becoming smaller and my insides closing in on themselves. Just ignore him. It’s okay. You’re okay.

“Okay.” I replied meekly. Instead of responding, he went and shut himself in the office. I sighed softly to myself and started on my macaron filling while the cookie batter sat on the tray.

Once my cookies were baked and cooled after dinner, I began to fill them. I picked a Wilton number 18 tip, a small star, and piped chocolate ganache around a raspberry on half of the cookies. When they were all filled, I topped each one. Then I carefully placed them in a container and grabbed several napkins. I also put five each in two disposable aluminum containers. One for Justin. And one for Montgomery. “They won’t notice if one is missing.” I muttered to myself. I took a bite, and it was perfect. Not hollow. Still had a chew to it. The outside was crisp. The slightly bittersweet filling complemented the sweetness of the cookie Perfect. I moaned softly. Setting the containers in the fridge so they didn’t melt overnight, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

The next morning it was Valentine’s Day. As much as I hated the holiday, I wasn’t opposed to dressing up. I dug around my closet for something to wear. I had a red circle skirt in mind. I just needed to find something to wear with it. “Hey Siri, what’s the weather today?”

“It’s currently cloudy and forty-five degrees. The high is expected to be fifty-two degrees and the low will be forty-five degrees.”

“Thank you.” Only fifty-two. I can wear a sweater. I pulled out a couple. The red cable knit was too match-y. The plain black was too plain. My last option was a black sweater with white hearts. This is nice. Shrugging it on, I pulled on a pair of black tights to cover my legs. Topping off the look with my favourite diamond studs and a simple charm bracelet, I checked the clock. I had time to paint my nails.

Soon, I was ready for school. I redid my nails in a nice nude shade. Knowing I was going on a date today, I went quite neutral on the makeup. I wanted my skirt and top to be the focus of my look. My parents were putting their breakfast away when I went downstairs. “Morning guys.”

“Morning sweetie.” We exchanged pleasantries with each other. “You look lovely Addison.”

“Thanks Mum. May not like today, but it’s an excuse to wear this sweater.”

“Very true.” She kissed my cheek gently, so her lipstick didn’t transfer.

“Why are there three containers in the fridge Addison?” Oh crap. Uh….

“Because one is for Justin, one is for my friends to share, and the other one is for me when my friends inevitably leave me with none.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound convinced. Or interested for that matter. When does he ever sound interested? He called after me as I was leaving. “Remember your mother and I are going out tonight for dinner and date night.”

“I know.” I smiled at him. “You kids have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.” I smiled brighter when he dipped my mom and kissed her. Gross but so cute.

“I love you, Margot.”

“I love you too, Brooks.” My mom replied.

My friends were waiting at my locker when I got there. “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Justin said you were bringing macarons to school.” Charlie grinned.

“Ah yes. You’re here for snacks. Of course. Hey Clay.”

“Hey Addy.” I shooed the boys away from my locker so I could put my bag in and take out the large container.

“These are for sharing.”

“We know. We can share.” Bryce nodded. Sure, you can. I rolled my eyes playfully. Then I set about passing each of the plethora of boys gathered around my locker a napkin. And then I gave them one macaron each. Jeff got two so he had one to give to Leah.

“Why does he get two?” Luke complained.

“Because he has a girlfriend. And I like her. Do any of you have girlfriends I like?” My eyes shifted to Monty minutely. He smirked softly and quirked a brow quickly. No one seemed to notice. “No? Then you get one for now. You can have more at lunch.” The bell rang. The boys began to disperse to their respective classes. I grabbed Justin and gave him his container.

“You’re the best.” He grinned and kissed my temple when he pulled me in for a hug.

“So are you. Now go get educated.” I texted Monty as I walked to class. I’ll give you yours after school.

I think I like being worth it. This is delicious. Why don’t you make these all the time?

Make them with me sometime. You’ll see.

On my way to lunch, I stopped to pick up my Dollar Valentine. “Hey Sheri.”

“Addison! Oh my gosh. When I heard you filled out a survey, I almost didn’t believe it.”

“Justin did it.”

“Oh. At least he knows you. I hope you get better matches than I did.”

“We’ll see.” I waited while she printed out my list. I glanced at it when she handed it to me.

Andrew B.

Cody K.

Daniel R.

Justin F.

Bryce W.

“Oh. My. God.” I laughed.

“What?”

“I matched with Justin. And Bryce Walker. How the hell?”

“Well, Justin knows you best. And he did the survey for you.” Sheri shrugged.

“Okay fair. But Bryce?”

“I don’t have an answer there.” We both laughed and I left to go to the cafeteria to join my friends. While I walked, I called Justin.

“Hey Addy, what’s up?”

“Hey Valentine. Have you picked up your matches yet?”

“I’m just looking at them now. I was just about to call you to see who you matched with.”

“Well, I think you’re my best match.”

“No one else up to your standards?” I was behind him now.

“Nope.” He turned and hung up. “But I have very important plans tonight, so I’ll need a rain check.”

“No problem. Your annual Bones marathon?” Sure.

“You know it. Next season is the last one.”

“Since I can’t take you out tonight, at least let me escort you to lunch.” He held his arm out to me. I grasped it dramatically.

“Such a gentleman.” We laughed hysterically.

Montgomery loved the macarons. We met at Monet’s after school to get coffee to go because it was crowded. Thankfully no one questioned us if they saw us. They were too wrapped up in their own dates to be concerned about us. Our date was wonderful. There was no chocolate in heart shaped boxes. There weren’t any overpriced roses. Just the two of us spending time together privately. Since my parents were out for the foreseeable future, he came back to my place. We hung out for a bit until he had to leave to avoid my parents. All in all, it was a pretty good Valentine’s Day. He found it hysterical that Justin and I were matched for Dollar Valentines.

Spring had sprung in Evergreen in mid-March. By the time April rolled around, flowers were in full bloom again and it was getting warmer and warmer. On a particularly nice Saturday, I woke up in an unusually good mood. I looked out the window and it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. As I was sitting in bed, I looked around my room. My camera caught my eye on my bookshelf. Maybe today is the day I introduce Monty to my camera. I got ready but didn’t get dressed. It was still early for a Saturday. And I knew Monty was a big fan of sleep.

After an hour or so of putzing around in my room, I decided to call him. “Morning Addy.” He answered. His voice was still thick with sleep. I smiled.

“Good morning sunshine.” I heard him shifting in bed.

“You’re chipper this morning.”

“It’s nice out. It’s finally spring.”

“It is.” He smiled.

“I was wondering if you had plans today?” I eyed my camera.

“No, I don’t think so. What did you have in mind Bookworm?”

“I thought I could introduce you to my other hobby Casanova.”

He gasped dramatically. “You mean to tell me you like things other than books?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “What do you say?”

“I’m in. When and where?”

“The park by the docks? Say, one o’clock?”

“Sure thing.”

“Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye baby.”

My parents were in the office working. It was ten am on a Saturday. But it was getting close to exam time for my mom, so she was busy. Tax season was ending, so dad was busy. I opened my bedroom door and called into the house. “I’m going out later. I don’t know how long I’ll be out.”

“Okay honey. Have fun.”

“That’s nice.” I sighed and closed my door. After a quick shower I got dressed. I knew I would probably be moving around a lot today, so I picked a pair of leggings and a loose black t-shirt from American Eagle. I really should go get one of these in every colour. They’re the best shirts. I threw a random cardigan on my bed. It was later joined by my wallet and camera.

Sitting down to do my hair and makeup, I decided to just do a quick French braid. It kept the hair out of my face. I contemplated my makeup for a while. I still had plenty of time to spare. Pressing play on my Spotify and it picked up on a random Beartooth song. Artist Radios are always interesting. I hummed and tapped along with the music while I dug through my vanity. I didn’t have an excessive amount of makeup. Maybe I had a little too much lipstick, but it’s my favourite type of makeup. I kept everything but my lipstick fairly light and neutral. My skin was actually nice today so I could just use concealer and set it. With the rest of my makeup done, I dug through my slightly embarrassing amount of lipstick. “I’m feeling bold today. Red?” I asked myself in the mirror. “Red.” I nodded. I was ready to go now. I chucked the tube of lipstick in my wallet.

It was close to lunch so I texted Monty. Did you want me to make a couple of sandwiches or something?

Sure. I went downstairs and dug through the cheese drawer.

I have turkey, ham, and some other white meat. Possibly chicken?

Ham is okay.

Cheddar okay?

Yup. I made our sandwiches. I knew how he liked his sandwiches now. Placing them in the fridge, I ran upstairs for my camera, camera bag, and now my purse. Our lunch was set on top of my wallet. I threw an ice pack in to keep everything cold and food safe. A couple of snacks joined in before I grabbed my keys.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll see you later.” I called.

“Okay.” My parents called together.

At the park, I met Monty over by a tree. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. No flannel. That took me by surprise. He looked damn good though. I stopped on the way over for a couple of coffees from Starbucks. “Hey Casanova.”

“Hey Bookworm.”

“Lunch now or later?”

“Now is good. I could eat.” I rolled my eyes. “What?”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.” He defended.

“If you grow anymore, you’ll give Dempsey a run for his money.”

“Never know. They say boys grow again around nineteen.”

“Oh god. I don’t know if I could handle you getting taller.” He laughed.

“Might have to. Never know.” I looked down to hide my blush. I didn’t read into what he said. He was right. You never knew where you could end up. We talked quietly while we ate. Monty regaled me with stories of the baseball game I “missed” yesterday.

“Sounds like a nail biter.” I smiled.

“You don’t like baseball, do you?”

“No.” I replied quickly.

“That mean you’ll never come to a game?”

“Quite possibly. I will go to as many football games as I can though.”

“Deal. Now. What did you want to show me?”

“This.” I said as a pulled my camera out of the bag.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told you I like photography.”

“I remember. I’m just surprised it took you this long to show it to me.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay. I won’t question you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not Tyler. I keep my photography to when people know about it and can see it.”

“I kind of figured.” I spent some time showing him my camera. It was the first thing I had spent any big amount of money on. I got it a few years ago. I saved up birthday and Christmas money. I never really got an allowance so that’s what I had to work with. I looked out at the water and stood up. Holding my hand out to my boyfriend, I nodded in the direction of the dock.

“Come on.” Montgomery took my hand and we walked to the railing. I examined the water for a few moments quietly. Then I lifted my camera and started shooting. It was beautiful. “It’s nicer at sunset. But daytime shoots are so fun.” I could feel him watching me. A bird was flying close by, so I snapped a picture. “It’s beautiful.” I said softly.

“Very beautiful.”

We wandered around the park together for a few hours. Occasionally we would stop to sit and just people watch. During one of these stops I noticed Monty had turned to look out over the water. The way the light was hitting his face was perfect. I quickly snapped a photo. I wanted to preserve the peaceful look on his face forever. Lord knows the boy could use some peace. He turned to me when he heard the click of the camera. Luckily it didn’t ruin the shot. He was smiling. I couldn’t help myself. I took a quick scan of the area and kissed him. When we pulled away, he quickly wiped the lipstick off. I laughed and dug around in my purse for a makeup wipe. “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” I touched up my lipstick. While I was doing that, he took my camera from my lap and snapped a photo of his own. “I’m not very good at this, so don’t be shocked if it comes out crappy.”

“I’m sure it’s great. Here, let me see.” He handed it back. I scrolled to the photo. It was really nice. “This is great Monty.” He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder. Turning the camera around, I snapped a picture of the two of us. It wasn’t exactly a candid, but it was as close as you could get with a selfie. We called it a night around six o’clock. He had to get home for dinner. I had some homework to do. I also wanted to get our photos transferred as soon as possible.

I walked into the house smiling to myself. Today had been a really great day. I felt good. “What the hell is all over your face?” My dad asked. Not a hello. No other acknowledgement.

“What do you mean?” I reached up to touch my face. Is there something on my face?

“You really caked it on today, didn’t you?” Oh. My makeup. I’d forgotten that he didn’t see me before I left.

“I put on a little makeup. I’m trying to use up a red lipstick.” I shrugged. The small feeling had begun to grow again.

“It makes you look like a prostitute.” Wow. That escalated quickly. My good mood vanished. I set my face. I wouldn’t let him see that he had hurt me.

“Thanks Dad. That was my goal today actually.”

“Don’t take that kind of tone with me, young lady.”

“Okay, whatever. Where’s Mum?”

“At the grocery store.”

“Okay. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Take off the paint while you’re up there.” He called after me.

When I reached my room, I closed the door and slid down it. Not wanting him to know I was crying I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I curled up on my bed and sobbed into the towel. I didn’t care that there would be makeup stains on it. My phone buzzed on the floor. Sitting up, I stood to grab it. It was Monty. I want to see those photos baby.

Okay. I’ll send them over when I’m done.

Looking forward to it.

Yeah.

If I forgot to say, you looked pretty today.

Thanks. I wasn’t sure I believed him after what my dad said.

Any other mystery hobbies you want to show me?

Don’t think so.

Not even the art of knitting?

Maybe.

You okay Addy?

Yeah. Just tired.

Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.

Sure. I didn’t answer his next text. It was too much effort to do it now. I just wanted to lay in bed and be sad.

#can't go back #montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #monty x oc #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #13 reasons why #13rw #13 rw #Thirteen Reasons Why #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #creative writing #writeblr

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

Text

Blacksad: Somewhere In the Shadows Review

Hello you beautiful people! I have a WEIRD relationship with Noir. It’s weird because i’ve never really dived into the films of type, though I really should, But as a kid I absolutely LOVED the tracer bullet arcs in Calvin and Hobbes, where everyone’s favorite hyperactive and imaginative six year old would plant himself as the hero in a noir pastiche.. ironically like myself Bill Watterson was also not a huge noir buff and just relied on Cliches but hey, it worked.

Still love these. So from fourth grade on it imprinted a lifelong love of a good bit of detective noir. Not enough to you know, get me to read any traditional noir books or watch any noir tv shows or detective procedurals but I still love a good mystery from time to time and some of my favorite comics such as Howard the Duck by Chip Zdarksy and Peter David’s second run on x-factor run on the genre while having fun with it’s cliches.

I also love anthropormphic animal stories. Dunno why, I just do, so once I found out about Blacksad, a comic that combines disney quality art from a former disney animator with gripping, adult noir that rips your heart out... I couldn’t resisit trying it. Telling the tale of John Blacksad, a cynical private detective and the cases he steps into via gorgeous, straight out of a disney storyboard art, the series is by Juan Díaz Canales (writer) and Juanjo Guarnido (artist), the latter a former Disney artist who worked on several Disney films, meeting in the 90′s while working on licensed works and hitting it off, leading to this series. That’s.. really all I could find about the making of the series in English. The only other fact is the series is designed for first release in France, which has a huge comics market, hence the various volumes being called “Albums”, with them later being released in Spain and then english, currently in the latter through Dark Horse Comics, who last year collected the current 5 albums and some side stories into one big volume. And with Dark Horse having infrequent sales including Blacksad on comixology it’s easy enough to pick up all 5 volumes in one complete package on digital for 9 bucks, as it is right now. Seriously I’m not trying to shill for Comixology or Dark Horse, I just love these comics and suggest picking them up. The creators DO intend on new volumes... it’s just both have been busy with other work so they’ve been stuck in development hell since 2013. However given there have always been, if much smaller, the biggest being 5 years, gaps between the Albums, I don’t think the series is dead quite yet and with Dark Horse fully backing it, taking the series from only two volumes getting translated to both translating the first four AND translating the fifth within a year of it’s release, we’ll undoubtly get the next one quickly. The series has also spawned a game, Under the Skin, which i’ll probably also cover some day as i’m dying to play it, but i’m waiting for a sale because it’s around 30 bucks and I can wait. It’s also been nominated for an Eisner three times to no suprise and has had fans in Stan Lee, Jim Steranko, Tim Sale and Will freaking Eisner. Yes the GUY the awards were named after liked the series. So yeah, I love this series and highly support it, but the thought of covering it hadn’t occrued to me.. in part because I already had three comic retrsopectives going, my looks at The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, Scott Pilgrim and New X-Men, and simply because I just hadn’t thought of it till Kevin, frequent patron and comissioner of the blog whose paid for tons of reivews, suggested covering the second Album, Arctic Nation, which has our hero searching for a missing little girl he feels has been taken by the titular white supramacist movement.. and if your wondering “Wait how the fuck does that work their animals”, John is black coded due to his black fur, while the white suprmacists are all Arctic Animals.. a touch I really like as I’d honestly never thought of that as a metaphor but it fits like a glove, especially given that most white furred arctic mamals are pretty agressive looking. So yeah I’ll be covering that one next month for Black History Month, among many other things, but I felt I wanted to cover the series in order and since again, it’s only the second of five and I had a free space on the schedule. So without further adew, join me somewhere in the shadows and under the cut as we enter the world of one John Blacksad.

We open as you’d expect for a Noir with a heady narration and a murder. John was brought in by Smirnov, the chief of police and an old aquantice who serves as his Commissioner Gordon. Since the victim is John’s ex, he was brought in to see if he knows anything and as you’d expect warned not to look into it further, as John dosen’t buy this was a simple robbery. His response is exactly what you’d expect.

I mean.. what did you expect? You called him out of bed to see his former lovers corpse, KNOWING he’s one hell of detective, dosen’t give up on things easy, and would probably be curious. For him to say “Cool gonna go smoke some reefer and take in a looney tunes short at the theater, call me when you find the murderer?” Also this series takes place in the 50s. Because of course it does.

So John goes back to his office to brood, reflecting that the office feels like the remains of an ancient civlization because “It seems to be all that remains of the civlized person I used to be”. Hell of a line.

We then get his backstory with the victim, Natalia. She’s a famous actress, who John first as a younger man when hired to investgate some death threats she’d received with a boquet of flowers. John shows off just how good he is at his job in just a few panels.

IT not only shows in just a few panels just how ferocious our hero can be when needed and how good he is at his job, easily having tracked down the man responsible and scared him shitless without breaking as sweat, but how fucking gorgeous the art is. I meant it when I brought up the old disney comparison, as Steranko even mentioned in his introduction to the collection of the first three volumes how it looks like animation cels on the page. IT’s utterly breathtaking and ONLY gets even more lush and beautiful as the series goes on and perfectly fits the noir stylings with it’s realisim, making it’s animal characters feel utterly human and real while still keeping their animal traits in perfect detail.

John impressed her, and as we see in the next page under his narration they not only had really steamy passionate sex, and why yes we do see them naked even if the bits are covered it’s still very much nsfw and we saw Natalia’s naked corpse earlier, so that ship had already sailed anyway, with Natalia taking him on both as her lover and her on staff detective and the two were much in love.. until the fame apparenlty got to her judging from the visuals, and the realtionship fell apart.

Before we move on i’d like to talk about the narration which CAN be a bit overwrought here or there and is a bit overused.. but does have it’s mometns of being utterly effective as with above, contrasting John’s statments about a sucessful job and being hired on.. with the beginnings of his and Natalia’s relationship and their passionate lovemaking. IT’s not BAD and it works for the setting, but it can be distracting, but thankfully the series levels this out as we go and they learned from it so no harm done. Just the kinda thing that happens early in a series life when the creators are getting a handle on things, so no harm done.

But naturally John isn’t going to take the love of his life, responsible for the happiest days of said life, being brutally murdered lying down and is going to find the bastard who did this. So he goes to an old friend, Jake Ositombe, a championship boxer and Nat’s former bodyguard who he recommended to her. Given we see him knock the shit out of his opponent without the slightest effort, yeah good call. Also yes we share the same name and no it’s not weird to type about another Jake, adventure time sorta.. knocked that out of me. Jake dosen’t know much since she fired him a long time ago as one of her lovers hired private security, and the last one he knew of was a guy by the name of Leon. John, naturally, easily finds the guy’s apartment, Leon Kronkski, a screenwriter.. but also rules him out as the guy lived in a humble apartment and clearly didn’t have the cash to hire his own hired goons.

He does find a clue, a matchbook for some place called the Cypher Club.. and another when the man’s sweet mouse landlady shows up, who John charms by pretending to be Leon’s friend and flashing a big smile, finding out a msyterious man with “big bulging eyes”, took him. This scene also to me is great in subtly showing off John’s skill. While the previous flashback showed how badass he is, shoving a gun down the throat of a stalking wannabe murderer with pure rage in his eyes.. here we see a lighter approach, how despite his serious and dour nature.. he easily slips into being cheery and looking like an average joe off the street. He bluffs the landlady not because the plot says so.. but because like any PI he’s just that good at slipping into whatever roll he needs to get the info he needs. He can be his dour self or a charming happy go lucky guy without missing a beat.

So with that he goes to the studio leon worked for where his boss.. is a walrus j jonah jameson?

But yeah J. Jonah Walruson wants pictures of spider-man.. moving pictures.. but he can’t film them with his star dead and his screenwriter indefintiely gone, with the same bulging eyed man having told JJ he’d be gone indefintely. Nothing suspicious about that!

So naturally John’s next plan is to find the guy.. who is already after him as you’d expect with both a knife to slash at our hero with and the fog covering him so he can hit and run. But unluckily for him .. well i’ll let john say it...

John headbutts the myserious snake, who only managed to get his coat before and tries to interogate him.. but gets a quick jab to the gut and the guy gets away.

We soon meet our big bag, who has a big speech about insects and things being usefufl.. and once they stop being useful.. they become dead and collectable, telling the snake man to back off John.. and sending his right hand man to go take care of the Snake who apparently took something from the office. Realizing his numbers up the Snake Man goes to a lizard bar, picks up a package from a friend and runs out the back, knowing he’s being followed.. and we get some hints there’s also racial tension between lizards and mammials here as the bartender, said friend, has the entire bar circle around the guy preventing him from following our mysterious bulging eyed man.

Meanwhile John goes to the Cipher Club, a wretched hive of scum and villiany. Given Nat was a glamorous movie star, it’s very clear she was here to hide from something or someone, and the bartnender, a wild pig.

No not you sweetie. The wild pig tells John leon was indeed here and a local rat, in both senses of the word, offers to take John to him.. though understandably John is supscious of the guy he just met in a seedy bar taking him anywhere except to get some heroin. Did Heroin exist yet? Questions for later. But he’s got a case so he follows. Though suprisingly the guy DOES actually come through and it’s not ENTIRELY a trap: he takes john to a tomb for Noel Krinsok.. an anagram for Leon’s name. Unsuprisingly he’s dead. And also unsuprisingly, two hired goons

Show up. As I said not ENTIRELY a trap but it’s obvious given the rat split moments before that our mysterious big bad knew where john would be headed next, and thus while giving him a clue, also set him up to get his head knocked in. And while John is badass.. these guys are a bear and a rhino, both stronger, bigger, and with suprise on their size, as well as a tombstone to knock john’s head into. They easily beat him senseless and hope he got the message, though john gives a defiant fuck you before being punched out for it. He returns home, feeling like he’s aged 20 years “But no one respects the elderly anymore”, PFFT, and heads home to his rathole, not literally this time, apartment to lay on his cot and think as he gets some rest.

And while the trail for Leon is cold. our mysterious murderer accidently tipped his hand: only someone with a LOT of money and influence could make a man disappear like this, and it tracks with what we’ve seen so far. The guy has multiple henchman and despite being a big star with plenty of clout, Natalia had to hide in a dive bar just to get away from him and even THEN clearly wasn’t so lucky given she and her new lover both wound up dead. But Blacksad has bigger problems.. he wakes up in a jail cell.

Turns out Smirnkov had him arrested.. but for his own protection as the case is getting too hot and while he was late on that front given John’s face is hamburger, it’s clear from his tone and demeanor that while he may of been harsh with John earlier.. the two are old friends, and the Chief is simply worried about him winding up dead, and John takes you know being thrown in prison in stride. Which while not a bad scene it is a BIT suspect that a black coded character was thrown in jail for nothing and it’s treated very lightly and as a simple protection between friends, though given they wouldn’t think of coding john like that till next volume, I brush it off as accidental implications in hindsight.

Smirnkov though also called John here.. because he needs his help. Since Natalia’s Murder Case is pointing very high up, so his superiors have ordered him to bury the case and as he puts it “the bastards know where to squeeze”. And given in volume 3 we learn Smirnov has a wife and children, it’s very obvious where they squoze and to the volume’s credit while we don’t know that yet it’s VERY clear from Smirnov’s body language they went after some form of family. So while he has to give it up.. John does not. So he brought him to jail to offer a proposal: John goes after this son of a bitch and nails him to the wall.. and Smirnov will FULLY protect John no matter what he has to do. Now naturally given the rightful reckoning for police that’s been going on for almost a year, this SHOULDN’T play well. You have an officer outright telling an outside party that he and his boys will cover up his crimes. But.. honestly even in that framework.. it still works. That’s because.. the system has failed here. The higher up and more corrupt cops put pressure on the honest and hardworking family man Smirnov to stop a legitimate investigation into a horrible murderer.. because the guy is rich. And even now we’ve seen time and time again how rich assholes effortlessly escape the consequences of their action: How our own president who actively asked other nations to interfere in our election escaped his first impeachment trial, but hopefully not the second, aquitted. How Jeffery Epstien took YEARS to bring down with his years of ellicit parties involving innocent women and children he fucking enslaved. How Bill Cosby got away with all kinds of sexual assault for decades. The rich are often literally above the law in this country, so having a down on his luck detective, who retroactively himself is a minority, go after him with the full support of an actually GOOD police officer who genuinely believes in these people being held accountable but is held back by his family’s safety.. it works. John isn’t able to skirt consequences BECAUSE of a corrupt system.. but because the system’s so broken and slanted in the rich’s favor, that the ONLY option an honest officer like Smirnov has is to go outside it. And when asked WHY he’s doing all of this, Smirnov merley replies

... I got chills, their multiplyin. So John plans to find the bulge eyed snake after a hot shower.. only for the guy to hold a gun to John’s head, having been waiting for him and wave the murder weapon, in a baggie around, the item he had retrieved, feeling John’s trying to replace him as number two. However before he can do anything our snake pal is shot full of holes by the rat from before, who John dispatches with his own gun.

So the Snake starts to expire.. but feels a kinship with John “We are nothing right cat? Spent so much time waiting for the right chance and when it happens it all falls to pieces”. The Snake explains his roll in things: He was one of the private security our big bad hired to guard Natalia. But being supscious he also hired the rat to follow her around, and thus found out about her affair, brutally torturing and murdering Leon and shooting Natalia in the head. And we finally get a name as our snake friend tragically expires.

The snake’s death and tragic dying moments are something I forgot about.. but damn if their not really good writing, taking a character who before was seemingly just a murderous goon.. and comparing him to our hero. Another working class joe, and one who just caught up with the wrong asshole at the wrong time. He easily could’ve been john in another life and vice vers and it’s a good parallel.

So John’s nightmares finally have name and he naturally goes to confront the guy since he has an almost literal get out of jail free card. Turns out Smirnov is the richest man in town, and has his own big tower. Huh.. sounds familiar, and John simply sneaks his way up and once Statoc’s guards from before hear him rustling about.. sneaks up on them and clocks both one at at time with a fire extinqusher.

Statoc warmly welcomes our hero inside, and has the fucking lizard balls, as he’s some sort of lizard himself, to offer John a JOB

I mean he’s clearly lost a lot of his goons and most of them were incompetent. He fails to realize that John can’t be bought, is here for vengeance and has no intention of selling his soul to some rich asshole who killed someone he loved for the creepiest and most asinine reasons imaginable. He says john’s Concisence is why he can’t pull the trigger and that he lacks “cold blood”.. before we cut to the next page, where John’s shot the fucker in the head and left a gaping hole where his lack of a brain was.

And again what makes this work is the aftermath: John is clearly shaken, having ONLY been able to pull the trigger beause of Statoc’s smug grin and clearly not taking the sight of Statoc’s dead body bleeding out well. And while Smirnov keeps his word, covers for him despite the two guards clearly providing an iron clad argument against john and knoiwng thier blatantly covering this up.. he’s not happy about it.

This is WHY the narrtive still works. Statoc stacked the law against the bad guys. .but despite this being a necessary evil.. it’s still an evil and subverting teh law at this rightly leaves him not in a great place mentally. John himself isn’t even if he plays it off as otherwise, as we get our final bit of narration and one hell of a closing line.

Final Thoughts:

Somewhere in the Shadows is a bit rough around the edges, leaning a bit too heavily into the noir pastiche and Blacksad being a harboiled detective, something the next volume would ease up on. That being said.. it’s still a masterpiece, with gorgeous art and masterful pacing. While it’s the shortest of the stories, like those after it the pacing is sublime and never feels like it has any down moments or stuff that could’ve been cut, and the mystery keeps you on edge the whole time. Having forgot a lot of the details since last read I was on the edge of my seat the entire story and loving every second of it. Somewhere in the Shadows is the perfect starter for the series, introducing an important charcter in Smirnov and the noir nature and giving us a case personal to John so we can see who he was before, what he is now.. and what he WILL be for the rest of the series. The moment that MADE him into an even harder man than the one we follows here.. when he took a life in cold blood. A masterful story, seriously check it and the other volumes out, on comixology, in stores, great stuff. Next time we look into john and as I said, he’s taking down some racists and we also meet his sidekick weekly for the first time. As for me tommorow I dive back into my Tom Luictor retrospective but hit pause on our boy for a bit to take care of some of the larger plot. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure.

#blacksad #john blacksad #Smirnov #noir #anthropomorphic #anthro #funny animal #somewhere within the shadows #comics #dark horse comics #france #french comics #igor statoc #Natalia Wilford

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muwur · 4 years

Text

long distance headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for daichi, suga, hinata & tsukki

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.5k words

a/n: hello yall this is my first post! nobody asked, but i just started this haikyuu reader insert blog, feel free to check my page n see wazzap. also requests are open pls come fhorfjepfiwf;

daichi

✧ after high school, he stayed in miyagi while you went to tokyo, about 5 hours away, for college

✧ texting or calling whenever u can!

✧ you be like “heyyy”

✧ then he clap back with a “go focus on your lecture”

✧ “im not in lectureee”

✧ “you gave me your schedule so i know you’re in the middle of class”

✧ “...”

✧ makes sure you’re awake on time for your classes and calls you if he thinks you’re oversleeping (and hes usually right, this man just KNOWS)

✧ “morning y/n, i think you need to get to class soon”

✧ “mmrghhhghhh” *checks time* “holy sHI-- i forgot to set my alarm. IMMA BE LATE. THANKS DAICHI I LOVE YOU ILL TALK TO YOU LATER BYE”

✧ definitely skips out on some nights out with his friends to video chat you. you catch up, talk about future plans, reminisce, complain about not being able to hug one another, etc. occasionally one of you falls asleep on call, particularly after a long day or week. if he sleeps, you make sure you screenshot his sleeping face and start a picture collection

✧ you hit him up when you get drunk lMAO

✧ “daiichiii, i miss youuu, i needdd youuuu AND i needa peeee---” “hey daichi, this is y/n’s friend. y/n’s pretty out of it now but they’ll be okay! we’re heading back to our place right now” “im gonna pEE IN THIS CAR”

✧ daichi coordinates with your friends to make sure you arrive home safely, use the bathroom, and get tucked into bed. he thanks the universe you have good friends. if it weren’t for them he’d probs have a heart attacc. sends you cute, reassuring voice messages for you to wake up to the next morning with hangover tips he learned from suga

✧ always checks in with you throughout the day, every day. able to pick up on the slightest hints if you’re feeling unwell and calls you immediately to try to make you feel better

✧ makes plans to visit you! you get really excited to introduce him to your college friends (who, after meeting him, tell you not only is he a hottie but is such a kind guy, fosho a keeper. they also ask if he has any cute friends)

✧ either holding your hand or has an arm around you most of the time.

✧ you spend all day together outside and wandering the city, then spend the night back at your place (sorry roommate, but we’re gonna have to kick you out for a lil bit--)

sugawara

✧ you finally secured a job! unfortunately, the company required you to work for a year at their main facility, which was a 4 hour drive away from miyagi

✧ if suga wasn’t needed in miyagi for his teaching job, he would’ve tried to come with you

✧ after unloading your things in your new apartment and before parting ways, suga was like

✧ “everything’s unloaded everything from the car?”

✧ “yes maam”

✧ “do you have enough snacks?”

✧ “we just went to the grocery hun”

✧ “did you bring enough underwear?”

✧ “gDI yEs I dID”

✧ “:c promise to call me often”

✧ “<3333 of course”</p>

✧ good morning texts before y’all leave for work! you send each other cute pictures when you’re getting ready for the day (suga with bedhead, brushing his teeth? suga with his tie half done?? sign me up)

✧ always texts you when something reminds him of you, usually sends a picture along with it

✧ “the store was having a special on oranges today! this one reminds me of you”

✧ “why”

✧ “it just looks so cute~”

✧ will immediately call you if you send him any sort of message that worries him

-“hello? y/n what’s wrong, why is there blood?? speak to me, you haven’t replied in 5 minutes”

✧ “ohhh my bad, i’m just cleaning up don’t worry! i didn’t explain, but the picture i sent you isn’t blood, it’s ketchup i spilled on myself lolol”

✧ poor man nearly fainted from worry

✧ would pay you a surprise visit, making sure to plan it carefully so he knew you weren’t busy with work or plans. brings you gifts of your favorite snacks and a scarf that matches one of his own for the upcoming winter

✧ plans out that weekend for y’all, mans did his research beforehand. together, you toured the city and the surrounding nature, took lots of selfies (and many candids of you), and taste tested lots of foods before returning to your apartment and collapsing into your bed with exhaustion

✧ but y’all not too tired for cuddling n a lil something else >.>

hinata

✧ sure, being a couple hours away was hard for some... but y’all in different countries right now

✧ calls you immediately when there’s any inconvenience that occurs in his life, no matter how minor, thinking you’ll know how to fix it (or at least give him the reassurance he needs)

✧ “hey y/n...”

✧ “what’s wrong? you sound worried”

✧ “i broke my bike, what do i do”

✧ “you what? are you alright?? how? where are you? it’s midnight there, honey”

✧ “i was biking back to my apartment after staying late to practice! i didn’t wanna hit this turtle, so i swerved into a pole and now my bike’s wrecked :**”

✧ “ahh, are you okay?? you’re not hurt are you :(”

✧ “no, im okay... but im tired and i have two miles to go ;(((”

✧ “;( im sorry babe but you gotta walk home. we’ll get you a new bike. ill stay on the phone with you until you get back. tell me about your day <3″</p>

✧ talks about you all the time to his friends! introduces you through video chat to them! “look how pretty and cute y/n is!”

✧ together you work out your time differences and busy schedules so you can chat whenever possible

✧ he lets you know whenever he bought something for you, but never shows it to you because he’s excited to see your reaction in person when you reunite

✧ always asks you to send him pictures of yourself, he wants to see what you look like everyday he’s missing you in real life

✧ you surprise visit HIM. he’s so happy he could cry. shows you around every place he loves, shows you off to everyone he knows, holds your hand the entire time and never wants to let go, is practically glued to you not that you mind

✧ you spend your last night together lying in the grass, hand in hand, looking at the stars and sharing sweet kisses

tsukishima

✧ y’all went to separate universities. while he stayed relatively close to miyagi, you went across the country to okinawa, which was about a 3 hour flight away

✧ he sees all the couples around campus n becomes lowkey bitter, texts you immediately about gross pda like hand holding that he secretly wishes he could do with you “these people in relationships are too happy, i didn’t ask to see them gawk at each other all day” “u just miss me lmao”

✧ once overheard a convo on a shuttle at school that went like :

✧ person 1: “ugh, he’s so cute”

✧ person 2: “why dont you go out with him??”

✧ person 1: “i dunno, his dorm’s down the street, i can’t really do long distance”

✧ nANI (by the way, this is a irl conversation my friend overheard, oml)

✧ tsukki nearly choked on his morning coffee

✧ bothers texts you in class bc he’s bored and in need of your attention

✧ “hey tsukki this prof’s lectures are rlly dense, i needa focus, ill text u after”

✧ “but arent i more interesting than rocks”

✧ “trust me, id even rather watch some dino documentaries with you than be here”

✧ *read*

✧ likes to chat with you most nights as he lies in bed before going to sleep, staring up at the dark ceiling and listening to your voice through his headphones. usually just talking about how your days went (as if you weren’t texting all day) or just casual talk and banter

✧ you remind him to make sure he’s taking care of himself and eating well

✧ “who are you? my mother?”

✧ “no but you’re about to be single”

✧ surprise visits you, tells you it was yamaguchi’s idea when it was really his own and yamaguchi was just teasing him about it

✧ you show him around the city, sharing what you know about its rich history and culture. you visit most areas you both wanted to see before calling it a day

✧ your roommate conveniently spends that night over at their friend’s they just wanna give you alone time, which y’all very much needed. you make it a note to repay your roommate somehow.

✧ sweet lovin that he’s been missing, then some spooning as you sleep

a/n: just wanna tackle these about 4 characters at a time but if u wanna see this headcanon w/ other characters feel free to hmu w/ an ask <3<b> also sorry if i text type a lot and that im inconsistent with my apostrophes, let me know if that’s something you want me to fix!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #daichi x reader #sugawara x reader #hinata x reader #tsukishima x reader #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #sugawara koushi #hinata shoyo #tsukishima kei

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thenakedgingerwrites · 4 years

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My Personal Trainer

I met Nick five months ago when he became my personal trainer. I joined the gym in the summer to finally work my body towards my personal goals. I had been skinny all my life and knew that if I wanted to change it I would have to get serious. Five months of 3-5 workouts a week and heavy carb/protein loading I was pushing towards my goal. I was up 20 pounds of muscle and my progress pics were really showing obvious changes. I of course had taken photos every step of the way, but hadn't really shared them with anyone until recently. Nick and I had our weekly Monday appointment scheduled. Today was chest day for me and he pushed me hard through it. I was actually pretty lucky getting Nick as my trainer. He was attractive but not instantly my type. It was easier to get a solid workout in if I wasn't drooling over my trainer the entire time. Nick was probably 5'11. He had a lot of muscle but was rounded since bulking season had set in. His arms were massive, chest was broad, and butt (from what I could tell) was quite a bubble. His legs were probably the most underdeveloped part of him but they weren't thin by any means. Definitely thicker than mine. Nick was pale but had clear, unblemished skin. His hair was dark and kept short. In fact sometimes his beard would get longer than his hair before he trimmed everything up. He was one of the few trainers that didn't seem to shave everything. His legs and arms had a nice layer of thick dark hair.

I tried not to fantasize about him but couldn't help the occasional naughty thought, especially when he would demonstrate squat formations or anything that popped his butt. However, I really tried to keep things professional. No harmless flirting or ogles were done by this guy. Nick figured out I was gay probably 2 months into our routine. It didn't phase him at all and things continued as normal. He would occasionally ask about my personal life, if I was seeing anyone, and I'd ask the same. We were both helplessly single but he was straight so there were no possibilities there. I didn't shower at the gym since I lived so close and Nick always did his workouts in the afternoon before I arrived. What this meant is that I'd never even seen the guy shirtless. The most skin I'd ever seen on the man was his calves, arms, and occasional upper thigh depending on the workout. His body was still a mystery, and that was probably a good thing for me. That all changed in the 4 month mark. We were talking after my workout and just shooting the shit. He asked if I had taken progress pictures and I explained I had, but wasn't quite ready to share. Maybe one day, I told him. He understood, but offered up his own. He flipped through his phone and then handed it to me. "Don't flip too much though," Nick said with a nervous laugh. He obviously had nudes on his phone. Of him or of someone else I wondered? The screen was zoomed in to a 3 picture side-by-side, each 6 months apart. I should probably mention that it was his neck down in nothing but some tight underwear. My eyes must have bulged. His body was amazing. I mean he definitely was a 'round' muscled guy but that was absolutely my type. His chest had a light dusting of dark hair which picked back up around his belly button and continued south, growing in intensity until it was hidden below his waistband. He kept his body hair trimmed but definitely all there. I couldn't help but focus on his package. Fuck keeping things personal, I thought. The pictures weren't amazingly lit, but I could easily see the large bulge in his briefs. Whether it was cock, balls, or both I couldn't tell. Whatever it was though, it was hefty. "... and if you blend that all together, it makes a wicked easy meal with tons of calories." Oh shit! I had completely zoned out while looking at his pictures. Quick, say something. "Well it's working out really well for you Nick. This is great progress. I'd be happy with any of them, honestly." Nick laughed. "Like, for your own body or as in your boyfriend?" It had seemed innocent enough but a million thoughts were running through my head. "Umm, well I meant for my own body, but if I was lucky enough to snatch someone up with a body like yours, I'd hold on tight." Nick just gave a cheesy grin and said thanks. We talked for a few more minutes about our weeks and what I would focus on while at the gym. Unfortunately, that night I jacked off thinking about those photos. The next night, I texted Nick telling him how raw I was from the workout yesterday and he responded with the picture he showed me. "Pain builds progress" he wrote with it. That week I did nothing but masturbate to that photo. The slippery slope had started and there was no turning back. Another month went by without much significance except how I looked at Nick. He was no longer just my personal trainer, he was now an object of my lust. Every workout he showed me I couldn't help but turn it dirty in my mind. I was losing it. We had hung out a few times outside of the gym. It had always been with a bunch of the gym staff for a game or just a night out in downtown. I got a text on Saturday morning asking if I wanted to hang out and drink some beers. His roommate was out of town and he wanted to enjoy the apartment to himself while watching the football game. I agreed, trying not to fantasize about unrealistic outcomes. When I got there he was basically in gym attire. I felt a bit dressed up in my nice jeans and button up shirt but oh well. We drank while watching the game, Nick drinking much faster than me. Near the end of the 3rd quarter, it was obvious our home team was going to win and interest in the game subsided. We talked about the gym, work, girls, guys, and continued to drink. I was getting tipsy at this point but Nick was sufficiently drunk. "When are you gonna show me your progress photos, man?" Nick asked me. He actually didn't need to beg much. The alcohol helped, but it only felt fair knowing how much I'd stared at his almost naked body. "Eh, I'll show you. Remember, I was SKINNY. Don't make fun." "I would never! Plus you've grown so much. I'm so proud!" He was smiling ear to ear. It made me swoon a little. I flipped through my phone to get the most recent. It was my 5 month comparison photo. Nothing too crazy. Just standing in front of the mirror flexing one arm in my underwear. I wore skimpy briefs but it was nothing x-rated. I had clearly changed. My ribs were no longer visible and every muscle and it's own definition. Where a flat chest had been there were now pecs. Where a stick arm was there was muscled girth. "Wow! I'm so impressed; you've changed more than I imagined." "Thanks Nick." I was genuinely appreciative of his compliments. "Although, you need to get better at posing." "What?" Nick continued, "You're not showing off the right muscles in these. Like, you've grown a lot in your back but you can't tell in these." "Oh, haha. I didn't realize there was an art to gym selfies." I chastised him a little sarcastically. "There is!!" Nick was drunkenly serious. This was clearly a subject he was passionate about. "Okay, how do you feel about practicing some?" "Sure, that's fine." I said. "You'd have to take off those clothes though to see what I mean." Nick was very direct. I played along, my mind secretly hoping for something like this or more. "That's fine. You would too, right? To show me?" "Yeah, yeah. Obviously." With that Nick stripped. There was no romantic tease to it. This was clearly just what Nick said it was and nothing more. In a few seconds he had peeled out to just his tight boxer briefs. I stood there for longer than I should have because he cleared his throat and said, "you're turn." I quickly snapped back to reality and disrobed as well. I wore my tight AussieBum red briefs tonight just in case something like this happened. What can I say, I'm a planner. "Nice briefs man." Nick offered. "Nice body." He laughed. "Okay, so the first pose is really to show off your Lats and all the work you've been doing on your back." He walked through a couple poses and I imitated him. He would correct me a few times and move my arms or body in the right way. I was really proud of myself for not popping an erection at all with the contact. Minutes passed and things started to get warm in the living room from all our flexing and holding poses. Nick offered to take some photos for me on my phone and I happily agreed. They would be much better than selfies. After taking some photos Nick asked if I would do the same. I obviously agreed. We got to a pose that Nick wanted to try to accentuate his butt. He stood sideways to the camera and twisted his torso towards the lens to accentuate the roundness of his bubble butt. I took a few photos, wishing they were on my phone instead. "Does it look good? Does my butt look good?" He asked me. "It looks incredible Nick. Easily one of the hottest asses I've ever seen." I didn't really think about what I was saying anymore. We were both getting drunk by this time. "Coming from you that means a lot, thanks!" Nick replied with a cheesy smile. "Hey, I kind of want to get some more but without my briefs. Is that okay?" "You want me to take your nudes for you?" I sarcastically asked. Probably should have played that differently. He laughed loudly, "No! I can take my own dick pics thank you. I'll still cover the goods up, I just want some sexier ones without underwear." "Sure, why would I mind?" Nick shrugged, "I dunno, just wanted to make sure, ya know?" He turned around to slip his briefs off. His butt, was amazing. Two large globes of muscle sat atop his legs. They were dusted in his dark fur but he kept his butt trimmed as well. He went through the same poses but was really good at covering up his cock with either his legs or his hands. As much as I wanted to, I never actually saw what he was packing other than some heavy pubes. When Nick felt he had enough shots, he plopped down onto the couch. He grabbed his briefs and placed them over this crotch but didn't actually put them on. He asked for his phone and flipped through the photos when I handed it to him. He was clearly pleased with the photos. "Is it bad that I find myself hot?" he asked. I laughed, still standing there in my underwear. "No. Is it bad if I do?" Oops. He looked up at me. "You think I'm hot?" I didn't know what to do. I scrambled to find words that would make this alright but the drunken haze was cast over my thoughts. "Well, never mind. That answers that question." Nick was looking down on me. I followed his eyes to see my obvious erection in my briefs. Shit!! I covered up quickly and turned from him. That's when he started laughing. "Don't worry about it dude. I'm flattered. Can't say I've given a guy a hard on before. Nice to know I can." "Ha, ha" I said sarcastically, still trying to will my cock to shrink. "Really, it's not a big deal. Come'on. Come here and help me figure out what shots are the best. You'll clearly have an eye for what looks good here." I looked over my shoulder and he was patting the seat of the couch beside him. I said Fuck it in my head and went to sit by him. My erection wasn't gone at all, but at this point in my life I wasn't really that shy about nudity anymore. A few minutes of flipping through shots and adding filters here and there, Nick asked me a question out of the blue. "So you really like cocks? Like, they look good to you?" "Yeah. Don't you like the look of your dick?" I replied. "Well yeah, but that's mine, ya know. I've never thought any other dick was nice." "I guess that's the difference in being gay," i laughed at that. Nick laughed too. "I guess you're right. But like, what exactly do you like about them?" I couldn't really explain it well after I thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure there's specific things or features I like about dicks and balls. It's just linked so closely with arousal that even seeing one triggers so much sexual endorphin release in me. And it's a muscle that can't hide sexual feelings, as we've clearly seen tonight. I like how honest cocks are." Nick lost it at that. "Hahaha, you like how 'honest' cocks are! That's a new one." "I'm a sucker for an honest dick, what can I say?" I laughed with him. Nick put his phone down. "Okay, then tell me. Do I have an honest dick?" He pulled his briefs off his cock. I stared without caring how obvious I was being, plus I assumed that's what he wanted. His cock was awesome. It was still pretty soft, cut, and pretty thick from what I could tell. However, it was his balls that was giving the bulging briefs in his photos. They were massive. He kept almost all his hair closely trimmed but Nick shaved his balls. "It's um... it's... honestly awesome. Nick, your balls are huge!" was all I could put together. "Haha, yeah. They've been big since I was a teenager." He handled them with palm and moved them around a bit. I swore I saw his cock twitch a bit too. "So, this is hot to you? Like, you actually think my cock and my balls are sexy?" "Do you need reassurance?" "No, no. It's just, I'm trying to figure it out. I'm.. I just can't believe someone would find someone else's dick hot." "Well, I could prove it to you." I offered. "Oh yeah? How?" Nick said. He's not a very good actor and it seemed obvious where this was going. I played it safe though and went with another slow tell. I moved my hand to his thigh. "I could show you how much I like your cock." Nick smiled. "You may have to. I still think you're fibbin'" "I would never lie," I joked. I moved my hand the extra few inches to his soft package. It felt even bigger in my hands. I had to skip to his balls first though since they were so incredibly. I moved them around and massaged them with my fingers. I would pull on them a little bit and stretch the skin which elicited light moans from Nick. I felt adventurous for a few reasons and leaned in. I kissed his balls, first lightly, and then heavier with some wet tongue. Nick moaned more. I continued to kiss and lick his balls while loosely gripping his cock. It was filling up quickly. A few seconds later, he was hard in my hand. I backed up from his balls to take a look at his meat. It was thicker than I thought. Probably 6 inches or so in length but probably the same around. It was the hottest cock I'd ever seen. I looked up to Nick just to reassure myself it was him and that this was honestly happening. He caught my eyes and just whispered, "Please don't stop." Oh that made me wet. I got down onto the floor and moved in between his legs. I took hold of his shaft and licked that cock from base to head like a popsicle. It was delicious. He had already started to precum a little for me. I wasn't in the mood to tease and went right into it. I took as much of Nick's cock into my mouth as I could. He wasn't super long but the girth prevented me from taking him all in on the first go. As I sucked with his member filling my mouth, Nick's light moans evolved to deep rumbling groans. He was loving this which made me even hornier. A couple of bobs was all it took for me to get most of him in my throat. After that I could try my different techniques (which were admittedly rusty). I swiveled my tongue around his head, used my hand to match pace with my mouth, and used a little teeth on the retract. Nick was loving each skill and would buck uncontrollably at some. I was surprised what a gentleman he was. He didn't try and grab my head to face fuck me (although I would have been fine with it) and made it very audible how much he appreciated what I was doing. "Fuck yes. That feels so good. You're amazing. You're incredible. Please don't stop." were the only things he could muster between groans. It only took a couple of minutes before Nick's balls began to tighten. I knew he was getting close. He finally did take hold of my head, but to remove it and saying, "I"m about to cum, man." What a fucking knight. "Good," I said and fought against his grip to latch back onto his cock. He tried to pull me off him again, "No, you really don't have to do that. I don't want you to feel like you do." I continued to stroke him with my hands as I popped off to say, "You don't know what it's like to be gay, but fact one, I WANT to do this." I batted his hands away and took his cock back into my wanting mouth. He just said, "oh god, oh god." over and over as he edged towards the finish line. Nick tried to hold back his orgasm as long as he could but finally he couldn't fight anymore. I took hold of his balls with a free hand as he erupted into me. His tank had definitely been full and I almost struggled to get it all down. Jet after jet of warm seed filled my mouth and was swallowed down. Nick tried to remain still but was bucking and shaking uncontrollably between his heavy breathing. When I was sure he was done, I milked him dry with a last squeeze and popped off his still hard cock. "So," I said, "believe me now that I actually like cock?" He tried to laugh but didn't have the energy. "That. Was. Amazing. I've never gotten head like that before. You're a master." I laughed. "Stand up," Nick said. I did as commanded and rose before him. I was still rock hard in my briefs, and had actually popped out a little on top. He put his hands on my ass and pulled me in closer. I had no words for what was happening, so I just went with it. He fondled me through my briefs for a bit, getting used to the feeling of a hard cock in close proximity to his body. He swallowed, and shucked my briefs to the floor. My cock sprang out and almost hit him in the face which he wasn't expecting and jumped back a bit. I couldn't help but laugh, "You're right to be scared. He bites." "You're huge, dude!" I was definitely longer than Nick. Around 8 inches, but not near as thick. And my balls were only average compared to his massive globes a few feet below. He hesitantly took hold of my cock with one hand and slowly stroked it. This was clearly more for him than it was for me. He was exploring what another man's cock was like and I didn't want to rush him through that. Plus it was incredibly hot to see him oaf around it like a foreign object. After giving me a slow, steady hand job for a few minutes he swallowed again and licked his lips. He inched closer and closed his eyes. I was now feeling bad about this. "Nick, stop. You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything." He finally looked up at me. "No, I know. I just, I want to see what it's like." "Okay, but go slow. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable and you can stop anytime." He was looking at my dick again and nodded. He inched close again and closed his eyes to lick my cock head. Once he had a taste he moved his tongue around in his mouth to figure out if he liked it or not. "It just tastes like, skin?" I laughed, "yeah, they don't come in different flavors." "I guess I just, I thought it would taste different." I explained to him that it can if a guy precums a lot, but that I didn't. My cock was a great 'beginners' cock. We both laughed a bit. He then took hold with one hand and tried to wrap his lips around my cock. He could, but didn't take too much into his mouth. He bobbed on my cock like he thought he should but only took an inch or two in at a time and without any suction. What should I have expected from a straight guy. However poor the actual blow job was going, it was Nick who was giving it and that was incredibly hot. I was loving every second of it regardless. I must have began to leak a bit because Nick pulled away with a slight disgust taste on his mouth.

"That's what I expected they tasted like." Nick said with some nervous laughter.

"Yeah, if you don't like that you definitely won't like the ending."

He looked visibly nervous. I leaned down and pushed him away from my cock. "You're done. I'm not letting you go any further. Thanks for trying."

He sighed some relief, "Thanks for letting me try. And for that amazing blow job you gave me. I just wish I could return the favor."

"Trust me Nick, I loved every minute of that probably as much as you did." We both smiled.

"Well, do you wanna shoot on my chest?" Nick said.

I froze for a second and then began dying of laughter.

"What? People do that right?" Nick looked at my confused.

"Hahahaha, sure Nick, sure they do. But rarely does a straight guy just go, 'hey wanna cum on my chest?' It was just too funny."

He leaned back and rubbed his chest seductively, playing with himself a bit too. His cock had softened up almost entirely. "Do you wanna cum on this hot piece of man or not?"

I did.

I leaned into him and put one arm on his shoulder and the other on my cock. Nick just stared at the barrel of the gun in somewhat excited anticipation actually. Having this hunk below me, wanting my cum all over him, was enough to help me finish quickly. My balls tightened as the first blast shot forward onto his pecs. 8 steams of hot spunk fell onto Nick, coating his chest, abs, and cock in my cum. I sighed in relief.

"Hot." was all Nick had to say before we both started laughing.

We stayed there for a minute while I got my breath back and then he offered we take a shower. I rubbed his back, he rubbed mine. I probably washed his ass more than I had to but he didn't stop me or protest. By the end of the shower we both had erections again but heading into the living room he put on his briefs which signaled the nights fun was over.

We both fell asleep on the couch that night and I woke up spooning him in the morning. He was snoring. I got off of him and got the rest of my clothes on to leave. Before I left I looked back at this amazing, delicious man I had known for the past few months. He was sprawled out, chest up, almost naked in his tight white briefs. He had a serious case of morning wood going on that was clearly visible.

I felt naughty and probably was risking more than I should have, but I gave into the momentary idea. I got down on my knees and fished his cock and balls out of his briefs and gave them some light kisses. Nick continued to snore obliviously.

I took a step back to admire the view. I decided to take a picture of him like this for later use. I was going to put his junk back in but last minute decided instead to bob on it a couple times for one last taste and leave.

When I got home I felt guilty about the picture. I didn't want to delete it for obvious reasons but felt like I crossed a line. I decided to text him the photo with the caption "Had a great night. Took this souvenir. Hope you don't mind ;)"

That way if he wanted me to delete it he could tell me, but at least he would know that I had it.

I woke up from a nap to a response from Nick. "Likewise"

A few seconds later a video came through. I opened it and saw myself giving Nick head, his loud moans were close to the speaker. That little shit took a video of me blowing him without me knowing. The anger was only a reflex and I quickly found it hilarious that he captured that moment.

I texted him back, "That's blackmail!"

"Maybe it is. I need something to hold onto to remember last night."

"You could always just get the real thing again if you needed a reminder."

"Deal! Deleted."

"You don't really have to delete it, you can keep it for your own spank bank."

"haha good. I wasn't actually going to delete it anyway."

"lol, dick."

....

Bling. A picture of his hard cock and balls came through.

"This one?? ;P"

I was definitely jacking off today. "Tease!"

He replied, "I think we need to have a special work out session each week after our gym sessions. There are some special muscles we need to work out."

"Deal, see you Monday."

My training sessions had become something more, and I was absolutely, fucking floored about it.

#straight-to-gay #aware #vanilla

117 notes · View notes

ablackfangirlwrites · 4 years

Text

A/n: a new parr to this mini series!! Yay this one focuses more on kuroo ao theres something exciting!! I hope y'all enjoy this one too! Also always a big shout out @ayocee for being such a big help and inspiration for me as ive been writing this!

part 1

part 2

Humiliated. Embarrassed. Angry. Betrayed, and heartbroken. Those were all the words that describe what you felt after you saw Daichi with his girlfriend.

Since that day you had been trying your best to stay clear of him. Yes, you saw him in class but you avoided him. And after the few times he tried to speck to you, and you walked right passed him he gave up. You were determined not to give him any more of your time. Because what could he say to make you feel better? What explanation could he give you that would make you forgive him? You were sure you were in love with him, and you were sure he felt the same about you. He was supposed to be different, Yet he had been lying to you the whole time.

In all honestly, to say he only broke your heart didn’t really didn’t cover it. Because you had fallen for him harder than anyone else before.

-Y/n I know you’re upset but let me explain

You stared at the last text he sent you way longer than you cared to admit. It had been weeks. Yett, you were conflicted; you didn’t want anything to do with him. Not anymore. He didn’t deserve you. That’s what your best friend had told you once you returned to your dorm crying that day.

And you knew they were right.

But that didn’t mean it was easy to ignore him though. Even though you wanted nothing to do with him. A part of you that didn’t want to admit it wanted that answer, why did he lie to you? Was you really just a game to him? Did any part of him like you at all? But you knew the likelihood of being told something that would make you feel better was low. So why bother? It was useless. So you didn’t say anything to him.

And you just went about your own life.

“Hey, Y/n.”

You heard someone call your name one day as you sat in the coffee shop studying. This was where you did all you studying now; because being in the library was too much, it was only a reminder of all the times you and Daichi had fooled around in there, and you couldn’t take the embarrassment of seeing his friends and other people who knew you were with him.

At least here you didn’t have any memories with anyone, and no one recognizes you here, at least up until now.

You looked up from your notes to see who had called you only to frown when you saw him.

Tetsuro Kuroo.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your notes, The last time you saw him was the day you found out the truth about Daichi. Up until now, you had been doing good by not bumping into Daichi and his friends. And you were glad, cause no doubt they had to have been laughing behind your back the whole time. Knowing that Daichi was in a relationship with someone else but playing with you. No wonder they always seemed so strange whenever you were around.

“It’s been a while,” You heard him say with a smirk in his voice. But you ignored him while continuing with your notes.

Kuroo huffed out a sigh, “Okay, I sorta deserve that.”

You shot him a glance but didn’t say anything.

Kuroo started to set his things down at the table across from you. “Look I knew what Daichi was up too, but didn’t say anything. You have to understand it really wasn’t my place to say anything. He’s my friend after all-”

“What makes you think I want or need your apology?” You snap at him.

Kuroo smirked, “Good point. I just thought it was a nice thing to do...I feel bad about it” He said sitting down.

“If you really felt bad, you wouldn’t have let me make a fool of myself.” You told him, “And who said you could sit here?”

“Well, no one said I couldn’t sit here,” He said with that smirk never leaving his face.

But you weren’t amused. “Kuroo what do you want? If this is something about Daichi, I’m really not interested. I don’t want anything to do with him anymore. Or you.” You told him straight up. You had been doing good by not thinking about Daichi lately, and you wanted things to stay that way. And deep down you knew if you were talking to Kuroo, Daichi couldn’t be far away. And you didn’t want to relapse into all that heartbreak again.

Kuroo’s smile went away, and he sighed deeply, “If it’s gonna bother you that much I’ll move.” And with that, he got up and gathered his things, “But for the record,” He spoke up before he left. “Me talking to you doesn’t have anything to do with Daichi.” And with those words, he went to another table leaving you alone.

“Yeah, I’d stay clear of that asshole.” Your bestie told you after you told them everything that happened when you got back to your dorm. “If he had anything to do with Daichi I wouldn’t trust him at all.”

And you agreed with her whole heartily. As far as you were concerned you were officially done with guys right now. They were all liars and heartbreakers; even the good ones, and you didn’t have any more time for them.

But that all turned out to be easier said than done. Since the day that the two of you had that little conversation, Kuroo put it in his schedule to study or just visit the coffee shop while you were there. Always saying something to you. Wither it was a “Hey.” Or just a nod in your direction. He seemed to be determined to speak to you.

And as usual, you ignored him. Yet that didn’t seem to deter him. It was like a game to him, and that only irritated you more.

“You’re so annoying you know that.” You scuff at him one day as you tried to snatch your test paper from him.. He was teasing you about the score you got in your chemistry class that he happened to see when he was passing by your table.

“So I’ve been told,” He laughed Keeping the paper out of your reach, “But for real, If you need help I’m a great tutor, And it looks like you do need the help.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.

And you knew he was right. The chances of you passing this class on you’re own were low. And You were getting pretty desperate, and you knew he was actually doing very well in all his classes. “If I say yes, you had better not try anything. And were only studying here. And I don’t want to hang out with any of your other friends,” You told him.

“You got a lot of demands for someone who needs my help,” He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who offered, No funny business Kuroo.” You said seriously.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He said with a smirk and wink. “But trust me you won’t regret it.”

And once again you found yourself hoping you weren’t making the wrong choice by letting him into your life.

If you had to describe Kuroo you would say he was annoying, he was a know it all, who couldn’t shut up. He was a smart ass, and he managed to get under your skin and infuriate you every time he opened his mouth. But more than anything ...he was funny. And he was way more charming than he had the right to be.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you had a lot of fun studying with Kuroo. Despite all his flaws and he did have a lot, you enjoyed being around him. Even if he was annoying he was smart and he knew what he was talking about when it came to the classwork and made it easier for you to get.

All in all, you really liked being Kuroo’s study buddy, and friend you didn’t want anything more. At least that’s what you kept having to tell yourself. Whenever you caught yourself looking at him too long admiring how beautiful he was.

You had to keep reminding yourself, that boys were trouble; that boys like him were trouble. And you no longer had time for them. Besides he was Daichi’s friend and so he couldn’t be that much of a good guy anyway. But that didn’t mean you heart didn’t so a stupid dance whenever he flirted with you. Which he did a lot.

But you were determined not to make a fool of yourself again and brush him off every time he did. You refused to show him how much those little things he did affected you. But Kuroo could see right through you. He just he understood why you did and he didn’t take any offense to it, because he still found himself enjoying your reactions either way.

He got why you didn’t want a relationship. He had to admit Daichi really did screw you over, but like he had told you so long ago, You seemed really nice, and he wanted to get to know you for himself. And after countless study sessions, he learned that under all that sass you put up was a sweet person, who was goofy, and a blast to be around.

And despite you refusing to fall for him, he had completely fallen for you. But more than anything for him, Kuroo enjoyed being your friend. So the relationship the two of you had with each other was enough for him.

Unless you wanted more.

“Tetsuro! Look!” You exclaimed once you saw him at the cafe. You had finally got a 100% on your chem test and it was all thanks to him. You practically jumped in his arms when you told him.

‘So adorable.’

Was all he could think, besides the fact that he would love to kiss you. But instead, he smiled “Didn’t I tell you, you weren’t gonna regret it.”

“I dunno...I kinda regret it…” You said jokingly.

“As if.” He said with a smile and an eye roll. But that just made you laugh.

“We should celebrate,” Kuroo added.

“Celebrate?”

“Yeah…” He trailed off up until now the two of you only met at the coffee shop, which wasn’t a problem. But it had been a few months now, surely you wouldn’t mind going somewhere else with him. You were friends now after all. “Let’s go out for dinner or something?”

“Dinner or something?” You raised your eyebrow.

Kuroo scratched his face avoiding looking you in the eye, “Yeah...It would be nice, a change of scenery...something other than coffee and cafe food…”

He actually seemed like he was a bit shy, and you found that more adorable than anything you had seen him do before, “Is Kuroo tongue-tied?” You teased him.

“Common...It will be fun,” He said finally looking into your eyes.

You tried to hold back your smile from him, “It sounds like a date…”

“If you wanna call it a date then it can be.”

You really didn’t want to fall for him but when you saw him like this you couldn’t help it. He was just so cute! “I…I dunno though Tetsuro-”

“I don’t bite Y/n,” Kuroo said with his cocky self coming back, “And you know I’m not up to anything. Will go just as friends-Basically what we’ve been doing, no funny business-”

“Kuroo? Y/n?”

You both were taken out of your conversation by the sound of your names. Much to Kuroo’s annoyment. When you both turned you saw it was the very last person you wanted to see. Daichi.

He stood there alone obviously not expecting to see the two of you together.

“Hey Kuroo,” He nodded at his friend, but then looked to you, “Umm, Y/n I-I haven’t seen you in a while Y/n…” He smiled awkwardly. “You look well.”

Seeing him made all those feeling you felt back then come rushing back. You immediately wanted to just disappear. You still didn’t want to talk to him, you didn’t want any confrontation you just wanted to leave. So that’s what you were going to do you turned back to do YOu looked back to Kuroo while you started to pick up your things, “Um Tetsu--Kuroo...I should really go…” You trailed off as you adjusted your backpack on you back, and walked out of the cafe.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Both Kuroo and Daichi said walk.

You looked back at them, but you couldn’t do this. So you left them both standing there.

Kuroo looked at Daichi irritation clearly on his face, “Dude, what could you possibly have to say to her?”

Daichi shrugged sheepishly, “I just wanna explain to her what happened, I feel bad. And she probably wants an explanation...and I feel like I owe her you know..”

“I’m sure that’s one of the last things she wants, you really screwed her over she really liked you, man.” Kuroo told him, “I think it’s just best you leave her alone..”

Daichi nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right about that...I wish things hadn’t turned out the way that they did.”

“Yeah, but they did…” Kuroo told him plainly.

There air was thick between the two of them for a moment, and they both new it, But Daichi cleared his voice and spoke up again, “So you and Y/n now?”

Kuroo had started to get his things to leave now, “Theres nothing going on between us.”

Daichi nodded again but forced out a laugh, “I mean it’s fine if there is, You don’t need my permission or anything.”

Kuroo wanted to roll his eyes, but Daichi was still his friends after all, so he just settled with an, “I know.” Before leaving out the cafe himself.

Kuroo left him there in the cafe. Now only determined to find you. You couldn’t have gotten that far. Albeit he didn’t know where which way you went. Countless times he tried to walk you back to your dorm after your study sessions but you always refused him. He wanted to finish talking to you. He wanted to know your answer, but more than anything now he wanted an answer to his question. Though now he doubted it was an answer he wanted now.

“Damnit Daichi,” He said under his breathe. Things were going so well between you two. Why did Daichi have to pop up and mess it up. No doubt reminding you off all the things you had been pushing back.

Kuroo was about to give up his search of you, but just before he turned back around he saw a glimpse of your shirt sitting against one the trees on campus.

As he approached you he could hear you sniffing, “Y/n?”

You quickly tried to wipe your face at the sound of is voice, “I’m fine.”

“Y/n..” Kuroo moved down to your level, “It’s okay if your not…” He handed you a napkin.

You looked at Kuroo giving him a weak smile taking the napkin. Still feeling that heavy lump in your throat, “I wish I was...I really wanted him to want me,” You cried. Kuroo didn’t exactly know what to do in this situation, but he didn’t want to leave you. So he decided to stay sit and stay silent until you were ready to leave.

You don’t know how long you sat there crying. But when you were done you felt tired and embarrassed. Kuroo sat there beside you the whole time. The air was awkward with unspoken words between the two of you not knowing what to say next. “I should get back to my dorm…” You all but whispered.

“Can I walk you?” Kuroo asked you still not wanting to leave you alone. And not having much fight in you, you just sighed and agreed.

The walk was quiet. Nether of you saying anything, still not knowing where to even start a conversation. But eventually you made it to your dorm. You turned to Kuroo before you went inside, “Thanks I guess…”

“No problem,” He said avoiding your eyes. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“What do you want from me?” You asked out of nowhere. It was a thought that was weighing on you mind the whole walk back. Kuroo and you were only study buddies, nothing else. So why was he helping you now. What did he want from you?

Kuroo was taken back by your question, but before he could answer you kept talking. “I already said I wasn’t interested in you like that. Yet, you still hang around me? Are you just waiting it out seeing if I’ll just cave in and say yes? Did Daichi tell you I was easy or something? Did Daichi-”

“No!” Kuroo cut you off before you could fishing accusing him of things, “I hang out with you cause I like you F/n, And we're friends. Like I told you before, it has nothing to do with Daichi. I’m sorry Daichi made you think that a guy has to have a motive to want to be around you.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe in Kuroo. He hasn’t done anything for to not to believe him. He was even here for you today when you were crying when he didn’t have to be. He had proven he was a good guy.

He was leaving when you called out to him, “Tetsu!”

Kuroo turned around, and you gave a him a smile, “I’m fee this weekend for that date.”

#kuroo testuro #kuroo scenarios #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #fluff.🍦#haikyuu imagines

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXXXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Right now Val’s fic and mine are screaming ‘Fuck Harry Potter!’ But in entirely different contexts and I love it jsdjsdj -Danny P.S. the Twins’ leaving always makes me cry when I read that.

Words: 4,428

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Fine Line’ -by Harry Styles

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Twins' Farewell.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I need a moment."

"You've been quiet for five minutes."

"Well, I found out my mother used to be a bully," She snapped. "I kind of have a lot to think about!"

Their parents had treated Snape the same way Dudley used to treat her and Harry when they were younger. Not only that, but Harry's mother appeared to hate James with a burning passion. As if that weren't enough, Emily had actively taken part in attacking Snape and threatened Lily with hexing her if she interfered. Harry was holding back information though, and she needed to know what it was.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Harry said nervously.

"You have that look on your face. You haven't finished the story.”

"I have."

"Don't lie to me."

She took advantage of his inexperience and forced the memory out.

Mel looked at the fifteen-year-old version of her mother and saw herself reflected on her. She had her eyes, hair (exactly as long as her mother's when she was her age, and it fell in the same elegant fashion). She also had her lovesick gaze, which caused her to realize Emily was head over heels for none other than James Potter.

It was uncomfortable to watch, not only because Matt and Sirius would glance from time to time with a grumpy expression, but also because they were so similar to their parents that it was like looking at a very odd mirror. James was utterly oblivious, he would look at Emily like she was an adorable toddler.

Emily, on the other side, was a lost cause. James would constantly look back at the group of girls that were hanging out by the lake, where Lily Evans was chatting happily. His eyes would light up the same way Harry's used to.

Then she had to witness the look of pleased evilness when they attacked Snape, the way Emily pointed her wand at Lily, ready to attack...

She pulled back abruptly.

"I told you not to do it!" Harry groaned, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palm on his temple.

"I can't believe she never told me!" Mel exclaimed.

"What were you expecting? 'Hey, you know that boy you're friends with? I used to have a crush on his dad!"

"I don't know!" Mel blushed. "I... Sirius told me my mum had the longest crush on this boy before dating my dad... I never thought it'd be James!"

"I never thought my dad was an arrogant twat," Harry said miserably. "I can't believe Snape was telling the truth..."

"What if..." Mel pushed her hair back, and she grimaced at the thought of doing it in the exact same way her mother used to. "What if Snape tricked you into believing he's telling the truth?"

"How?"

"Well... we can't trust our brains, let alone someone else's! I mean, we treat Malfoy rather badly but we're not bad people, are we? If you were to look at us through his eyes we would look like monsters..."

Harry considered the idea, then shook his head miserably.

"Snape didn't want me to look at the memory, he'd hidden the Pensieve and I was the one who snooped around."

Mel thought back on all those years uncle Lupin never talked about his relation to his mother, how they said she was too young... They had been right, but Mel was old enough now.

"I think," Mel said, standing up and indicating Harry to do the same. "We deserve an explanation."

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?"

"I've told you, Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics... He says that if I need help, I can ask Mel," Harry shrugged, avoiding looking up from his parchment.

"Is it true?" Hermione raised her brows in polite surprise.

"Yeah," Mel lied. "We got this under control."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams, Harry?"

"Pretty much," He replied, his face almost completely hidden.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione frowned. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No. Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

"Are you done with the schedules, 'Mione?" Mel asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why are you making studying schedules, exams are ages away," Ron yawned.

"Exams are only six weeks away, Ron," Hermione sentenced.

"They're what, now?" He straightened up on his chair.

"How can that come as a shock?"

"I dunno..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on..."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed three identical schedules to Harry, Ron and Mel, "if you follow that you should do fine."

"You've given me an evening off every week!"

"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione.

"Yay," Mel said without excitement. Next game she was playing seeker against none other than Cho Chang, so she was starting to feel nervous.

"What's the point?" Ron pouted. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic..."

"All you need to do is stop the Quaffle from entering the bloody goal posts, how hard can that be?" Mel huffed. "I have to find the smallest little thing against a well-trained seeker!"

"You're well-trained," Ron argued.

"I'm not even close to being at her level—"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Harry gave a start. "Nothing..."

He picked up his Defensive Magical Theory book and Grey jumped onto his lap, Harry barely acknowledged him.

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione started tentatively, "and she looked really miserable too... Have you two had a row again?"

"Wha — oh yeah, we have," Harry nodded.

"What about?"

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," He said.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron. "If it hadn't been for her..."

The boy went off for several minutes about what an awful girl Marietta was, looking back on it, it was a bit unfair not to warn her about the risks...

Marietta was scared for her family, it was obvious she'd try to do the best for them. People are allowed to change their minds!

Mel was hoping her parents had done the same, otherwise she would have to live with the fact that they were... not the best of people.

‘CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below...’

The four of them were going through a bunch of pamphlets of different wizarding careers, trying to decide what thing suited them better. Mel was quietly reading the pamphlet on Magizoology when Fred and George sat down between her and Harry.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred, putting his legs on the table and kicking pamphlets in the process. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Hermione spat.

"Yeah..." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like —"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Hermione looked at him as if she could not believe him to be so thoughtful.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued, putting an arm around Mel casually. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry and the lady can have their chat with Sirius?"

"I never said I wanted to talk with Sirius," Mel raised a brow, giving her wand a light flicker and making the pamphlets go back to the table neatly.

"But you do though," George replied. "You wouldn't miss the opportunity to check on your mum, would you?"

Mel pondered. "I guess not..."

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how are Harry and Mel supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry replied matter of factly.

"Erick said that's the only floo line that isn't being watched," Mel nodded.

"Are — you — insane?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yeah, people keep telling me that," She smiled.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

"Sirius's knife," Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione hissed at Ron.

"I dunno," Ron blushed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors — We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George nodded.

"What sort of diversion is it?" Ron frowned.

"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, getting up at the same time as his twin. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."

"Okay then," Mel sighed. "We'll do it."

"Hey," Harry whispered once everyone was back in their business. "Don't you get uncomfortable with the way Fred treats you?"

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh! I don't even notice, you know? Yeah, no big deal..."

She hid her face behind the pamphlet, fearful that Harry would insist on asking questions.

"I'm sorry," McGonagall blinked. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'd like to pursue the careers of Auror, Magizoologist," She smiled, "and Unspeakable."

Umbridge (who had been supervising the interviews that day) let out the faintest little chuckled, but they ignored it.

"Miss Dumbledore, are you aware of the work—"

"Yes. I require a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' for the Auror position. They ask for a character and aptitude test as well. I'm aware that they haven't taken any new blood for the last three years, but fortunately, that's the same time I have to finish my studies, so maybe by then, they'll have a spot — As for my character and aptitude test, well, I'll work on that. Moving onto Magizoology: I need to pass Care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts, Potions, Herbology and Charms. My weak spot is Herbology, but I'm sure I can catch up. As for the Unspeakable position, well, it's all of the above."

She knew it was ambitious, but Dumbledore had told her she could achieve it with hard work and the proper schedule, and she wanted to believe he was right.

"For two of those you'll need to have a respect for authority," McGonagall stared at her. "Something which I've noticed doesn't come easily for you."

"It's not that I don't respect authority," Mel replied. "I respect you and the other teachers, I respect most of the Aurors I've met, I respect my mother... I just have zero patience with idiots."

"You'll have to accept that some people will know better than you, even if you find them idiotic."

"Well, I respect Snape don't I? I have a solid 'Outstanding' in his class."

She might have been wrong, but she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the woman's face.

"Very well, Miss Dumbledore," She drew out a parchment from Mel's folder and started to write down subjects. "I won't deny it'll be a long time before you get everything you want, but I've seen your abilities and I trust you'll get there—"

"Excuse me," Umbridge spoke. "It's blatantly clear that a Dumbledore, one that's proven to be mentally unstable, has no place in the Ministry."

"Good thing the Unspeakables aren't obliged to respond to the Minister, then," McGonagall replied with disinterest.

"What?" asked Mel and Umbridge.

"Miss Dumbledore, I thought you'd done your research," McGonagall then did show a polite smile. "The Department of Mysteries is a closed ward, they don't talk about their work outside office hours and most certainly they don't talk about it with people who do not belong in their area."

"No one is above the Minister," Umbridge replied with outrage.

"You're quite right about that," McGonagall finished whatever she was writing and folded it. "The Unspeakables work in the basement. You're free to go, Miss Dumbledore."

Mel took the parchment McGonagall was offering to her, but the professor held onto it for a moment.

"Best of lucks," She said, gazing up at Mel through her glasses.

As she slowly made her way to Divination, Fred ran into her, looking more energized than ever.

"All right, Lady?" He smiled.

"Yeah," She said brightly. "McGonagall just approved my future careers, she says I have a good chance to do them all!"

"Nice! Are you ready for what's coming?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked.

Fred had told her this was it for him and George, they wouldn't stay to get detention or being officially expelled. They were planning to run away, and Mel was dead worried.

"I'm brilliant," He smiled. "Everything's okay. Especially between us — I promised, didn't I? I'm keeping my word, and I promise to write as soon as I'm safe —"

"No!" Mel said. "Umbridge goes through our mail..."

"Don't worry, just leave it to us."

He started to walk away and Mel did too.

"Mel?" The boy called right before she left the hall, the girl stopped and turned to look at him. "Don't waste your chances."

Harry and Mel made their way to Umbridge's office as soon as they heard explosions at the far end of the school. They crouched in front of the fireplace and threw floo powder in the centre, the flames surrounded their heads.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said out loud.

She closed her eyes until the feeling of being pulled forward came to a stop.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

However, when Mel opened her eyes she saw her uncle.

"Mel! Harry! What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a — a chat with Sirius."

"I just want to know how my mum's doing," Mel replied clumsily.

"I'll call them," said Lupin. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. Emily's having a nap, she takes lots of those lately..."

"Is this really a good idea?" Mel asked the boy next to her.

"We're already here..."

Lupin returned with a short-haired Sirius (apparently he'd given in to Emily's desires) and Mel's mum, who was now six months into her pregnancy.

"What is it?" Sirius and Remus knelt, leaving Emily on a chair facing them so she could look at the kids. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..." Harry started. "About something I saw in one of Snape's memories."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a look of surprise, Emily's frown deepened. When Harry finished his story, Lupin was the first to speak.

"I wouldn't like you to judge your parents on what you saw there. They were only fifteen —"

"We're fifteen!"

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James — whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry — always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored."

"And Mum helped him," Mel said, pouting. "You threatened to hurt Lily if she tried to help Snape!"

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius.

"Neither am I," Emily stated. "As you've heard countless times before, I want you to grow having better morals than the ones I had when I was your age. I can't erase what I did, but I've learned to live with it."

"What you've got to understand is that your fathers and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. "Matthew was the only one who knew how to keep his feet on the ground. He was a flirt, yes, but he was never a total prat."

"He kept messing up his hair," Harry said quietly, referring to James.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius, laughing.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," said Harry.

Mel felt tempted to mention her mother's crush; but what was the point, really? It'd been years since that, and in the end, Emily had stopped liking him, it was long over. Bringing that up would only make things awkward, and Mel knew there was no use in reliving things of the past.

"Well..." Harry started, "I thought he was a bit of an idiot."

"So that's where you got it from, then?" Mel teased.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius. "We were all idiots! Well — Ruddy and Moony not so much..."

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" Lupin grimaced.

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes... That was something..."

"Matthew wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, though. He would say the truth no matter what," Emily tilted her head. "Perhaps that's what made me liked him. I had an awful temper and he would always stop me from doing stupid things."

"That explains your temper," The boy whispered to Mel teasingly as well. "Oh! And... he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him? She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius smirked.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," Lupin explained.

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Lupin.

"Even Snape?"

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"

"And my mum was okay with that?"

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

"I was already friends with Lily by the end of our fifth year," Emily said, "actually, right after that day when we finished our O.W.L.'s we had a talk... yeah, I reckon that's when we decided to call a truce. I made sure she never got anywhere near Snape after that day, for her own sake, really. Snape was always awful to her."

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it. So did Emily, but they never did anything that could be considered a crime."

"Yeah, okay... I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," Harry shrugged, "like that's a big disappoint — Ouch!"

Mel had pinched his arm to stop him from talking, but it was too late.

"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"

"Yeah— But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the truth, and Mel said she can teach —"

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius, trying to step into the fire but stopping when Lupin grabbed his arm.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" Lupin said firmly. "Emily needs you here. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears —"

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me! You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!"

"It's true, kid," Emily said, a look of sympathy on her face. "We need you safe."

"Okay, okay," Harry responded. "I'll... I'll try and say something to him... But it won't be..."

Mel raised a hand to quiet him down, they both heard footsteps.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"

"No," said Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end..."

"We'd better go!"

"Thank you for the talk!" Mel said quickly. "See you!"

They both pulled back from the flames, falling on their butts.

"Quickly, quickly!" Filch wheezed outside the room. "Ah, she's left it open..."

Harry pulled her close abruptly and Mel put the cloak above their heads just in time. Filch rushed over to the desk without paying attention to his surroundings.

"Approval for Whipping... Approval for Whipping... I can do it at last... They've had it coming to them for years..." He ran out holding a piece of parchment.

Harry and Mel left the room in a hurry, one floor down they took off the cloak and followed the noises. They ran to the marble staircase and found the entire school there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd.

Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"No..." Mel tried to enter the crowd but someone held her arm before she could get in.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Erick whispered. "Let them handle it. They're about to leave anyway."

"How do you know?" Mel asked in surprise.

"I helped them buy half of the things they needed for this. Umbridge doesn't check my mail."

"So!" The woman exclaimed. "So... you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred unbothered.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," Filch exclaimed in joy. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... Oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus. You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what? I don't think we are. George," He turned to his twin. "I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," The boy responded.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

"Accio Brooms!" They yelled in unison.

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

Mel clapped along with her classmates, she'd promised not to cry over silly boys, but this was a different kind of crying. No more afternoons with Fred and George around to make her laugh, to tease her about her height or her temper. It hurt, but she also felt proud to call them friends.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I don't know."

"You'll be okay," He assured her. "I'm sorry Fred and you broke up, though."

"You and Fred broke up?" Erick asked in a strange voice.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Harry grinned.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Firsts / #1 “The First Time Meeting The Family”

ABOUT: A blurb series retelling the important firsts in the first year or so in Becks and Harry’s relationship, covering the gap between the end of The Assistant, and the beginning of its sequel, The Partner.

---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 4th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

italics : a flashback in the story.

++ : a point of view change in the story.

WARNINGS: Some mild language, and a small incidence of physical assault

WORD COUNT: 10.9k words (!!!)

SONG: A Love Like This by Ben Rector (CLICK TO LISTEN AND I KNOW I USE TOO MANY OF HIS SONGS BUT THEYRE SOOO ROMANTIC)

* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“Always, baby - protect you, save you- you name it and ‘ll be there,” Harry coos with the softest of smiles, tracing with his thumb the new red lines that litter my face in places. “Always,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss the place under my eye where my birthmark sits, and beside it a new scar that he’s kissed more times than I could count.

I could never keep track of how many times I’ve looked at him and silently said those three words that once itched to jump off of my tongue and into his ears. The very three that sit in his eyes, just for me.

“No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you gotta keep grinding. And that’s how we’re gonna win. We’re gonna win and anyone that gets in our way? Well, God help them.” - Dean Winchester, Supernatural

The phone rang with a shrill bringggggg!, yanking a sigh from my lips.

Another one.

Another sigh.

Another call.

It’s just another normal day for me.

After sliding back on the mask that I so often wear within these walls, I at last leave my office and the phone that tends to keep ringing off the hook. Ignoring it and letting the answering machine take it this time, my heels click-clack on the dark tiled floor, a sound I had long ago become accustomed to.

Yet another sound is that of the hot coffee churning into my mug from the Keurig in the break room, and the splash of the creamer I pour in next.

A sound that I don’t think I could ever get used to, nor would I want to become mundane, is that of the breathy giggle trickling out from my open office when I return. He doesn’t see me yet, but I see him as I take a page from his book and lean in the doorway to watch him. Steam wafts across my smiling lips before the coffee meets them, my eyes fixed on the back of his tousled curls.

“It’s about time your meeting finished,” I announce, returning to my stride as I close the door. Setting down the hot mug on the corner of my desk, I tread over to my chair and let my arms wind around his neck from behind.

“Yer tellin’ me,” he nearly scoffs, switching apps on his phone quickly.

“What are you being secretive about, hmm, Harry?” I tease with a peck to his satiny smooth cheek.

“Oh, nuthin’, I jus’ wanted t’ check tha weather. Reckon we’re in fer some sun this weekend, yet anotha thing that’s overdue. We should go on a hike or sumthin’ Sunday, but we might need our Wellies.”

“You say that I’m a bad liar, but you should know that so are you,” I huff against his cheek, catching a whiff of his aftershave’s notes of cucumber and aloe vera.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Becks,” he insists with a measly shrug of his shoulders, but he tries to act like I can’t hear the slight snicker in his voice, or see the red appearing in his cheeks.

“Fine, I give up . . We should get cracking on those testimonies already, seeing as now I’m done waiting on you.”

“Agreed. ‘m gonna go grab a cuppa, and ‘ll meet you in me office. ‘Kay?” Harry responds, standing to his feet, and turning around to face me. The smile falling into my cheeks is instantaneous at the mere sight of him, making me realize that I somehow missed him for the last three hours he was in his meeting. Well, I wouldn’t be wrong to say that I’m most definitely spoiled getting to work with my boyfriend for nearly every second for five days a week. My dream at last came true. “Wait, I thought you were gettin’ sick o’ me earlier? ‘sn’t that right, bug?” he poses with a perfect raise of his eyebrows, taking a step towards me.

“I uh, dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Yer a bloody terrible liar, still dunno why ya think I can’t sniff ‘em out on you,” he smirks, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he taps my nose. The tall white roses on his baby pink slacks billow with every step of his, only worsening my giggle. “Becks, Becks, Becks,” he tuts with a shake of his growing curls. My lips sparking with a happy nervousness bring out the dimples in his cheeks.

“What, Harold?”

“Dunno how many times ‘ve told ya not t’ call me that,” he exhales with a wag of his finger, only a few steps between myself and the door now.

“But Rory gets to call you that!”

“He doesn’t get t’ call me anythin’, bug. Rory doesn’t listen t’ a fookin’ word I say, so he’s not goin’ t’ start callin’ me by me real name fer tha first time in eight years, I don’t think,” he chuckles, and I let an eye roll slip, but not quick enough. “Ya betta watch it now, and my bloody God, Rebecca Holte, you best put that pout away befo’ I-.”

“Before you what, Harry?” I tease with a cock of my head.

“Y’know yer pushin’ me buttons, right? Oh wait, yer fully aware o’ that, arentcha, Becks? I can see tha look on yer face right now, y’know yer diggin’ yerself a hole here, babe,” Harry tuts, continuing to wag that finger at me until my back meets the door and he lays his hands above my head to steady himself. “And, t’ answer yer question - reckon ya won’t get any kisses fer tha rest o’ tha day if yer gonna be a brat,” he shrugs with full composure, sliding a hand to my back that he presses on to come closer to him. “Make this one last,” he whispers, leaving a kiss on my forehead before opening the door.

“Harry!” I exclaim, whirling around to find him already escaping down the hallway.

His hearty laugh wanders down to grace my ears, and then, he turns around with that smart grin on his face, “‘m jus’ grabbin’ a new cup o’ coffee, ‘ll meet you in me office, love,” he calls back ever so innocently, almost running into one of Asher’s blokes from IT. Groaning, I imitate his typical stance of leaning against the doorway with crossed arms, watching his figure become all the smaller as he stops to talk with Amelia and then to Jennings with an always cheerful smile.

At times, it still boggles me how different things are, although it’s difficult to remember how things were before. How they were when my view every day was this very hallway from my measly desk sat at the end of it. It makes it all the harder to remember how much I longed for, how it tore me apart, and not just that, but how different of a person he was. I wasn’t the same either - I started off cold and brash with him, as did he, and I could never entertain the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t warmed up to me, as well.

Memories flash in front of me as the sofa molds to my body, like all of the other times, followed by the thud of my heels falling to the floor. With a blink, I’m propelled back to the days when I’d be scared to set foot in this office, his. Now, I can’t imagine feeling anything other than safe to be in here. Despite the traumas that took place inside of these four walls, my lips curl up at the thought of the lovely things that were born in here as well. The hidden kisses. The beginning of our friendship. Our first hug. My beginnings as a lawyer, and so much more that warms me from the inside.

My, all of the firsts that we have had.

Pulling my cardigan around me tighter, I round a corner and then another, hoping I’m at least going in the right direction. The images keep flashing before my eyes - the silence that fell over the room when he entered it, a completely different person than the one that I know. A pride that I want to deny and forget still clings to my body and every thought that I have. So often, I find myself hating him, and yet I couldn’t have been more proud sitting in that room and watching him do what he does best, argue.

Coming to a halt, I look around for a sign to tell me where I’m going, in the hopes that the front doors are somewhere near. Shaking my head, I take another left on a whim, and regret it within a matter of moments.

“Holte?” comes a voice from ahead of me. Glancing up, I freeze in my place before my feet try to scurry away. “What tha bloody hell are you doin’ here, and where are you goin’ so fast?” they say, almost making a sound. A laugh, perhaps?

“I was just uh, meeting a friend.”

“Since when do friends meet at a courthouse?” he asks with skewed eyebrows, his steps ending in front of me. His hand full of rings cards through his long curls, and my, they only look better up close.

“My friend . . works here.”

“Oh ‘s that so? What department do they work in?” he continues, the dimples slowly finding their place in his cheeks, especially as the words fleet me. “Yer lyin’ t’ me arentcha, Holte?”

“Fine, I wanted to come and watch you argue your case, since you were making a big deal out of how important it is,” I sigh, turning around and placing my back to him.

“Hey, you. Wait!” he calls, and I soon feel his rings against the flesh of my bicep. “What’s tha rush?” he titters, and when I turn around, this all only gets all the more weird.

“What, is it a crime to come and watch you in action?”

“No, so why’re you actin’ like yer doin’ sumthin’ yer not s’posed t’ do?” he smirks. “Huh, Holte?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, wishing I could sneak a look at his fingers gentle around my arm to prove that it’s real, but . . that would give it away and perhaps make him stop. That’s the last thing I want, even though two seconds ago, I thought that running into him here was the last thing I wanted. Now, I’m not so sure. I should have known that this would happen, though. “You were great, you know,” I say slowly, a smile mirrored on his reddening face.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, looking away and regrettably, letting his hand fall from my arm. “I didn’t know you were there . . watchin’ me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it . . but I’m glad that I came and spent my lunch break watching you.”

“Me too,” he replies softly, his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth.

“Well, good luck and I’ll see you at work, I guess.”

“Ya, you too, Holte. Thanks,” Harry says, and I find it painful to walk away from him now, and awkward. Sighing, I find a hallway in each direction when I reach the corner, and take one at random.

“Tha main entrance ‘s tha other direction, Holte,” Harry giggles, and I stop in my tracks, hearing his familiar Saint Laurent boots click-clack on the tiled floor. “Here, I was jus’ goin’ t’ lunch, I can show you tha way.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“No, please. Let me,” he insists, and when I steal a glance at him he’s pushing back the dark sleeve of his smooth black blazer to look at his watch. I’m left wondering which was more expensive, the suit or the watch. “I was jus’ poppin’ ova t’ a restaurant down tha street fer lunch, if ya’d like t’ join me, yer welcome t’.”

Gulping, I quickly look away and to the ground where he can’t see my eyes threaten to pop out of my skull. Did he really just ask me to get lunch with him? What should I say? Wouldn’t it be awkward? What would we even talk about? I should say no, he’s probably just being nice.

“I um . . “

“‘ll take that as a yes then,” he pipes up eagerly, accompanied by the sound of his booming steps. “Hurry up, Holte, time’s a tickin.’ I reckon this ‘s tha only time you’ve been in these walls, so ‘ll be kind enough t’ show ya t’ tha front doors, even tho’ me car ‘s on tha otha side.”

Because of course he would say that, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer who is cocky, annoying, frustrating, full of himself, bossy, rude-

“Thank you,” I say, interrupting my thoughts and taking a plunge, right into those deep green eyes that land on me, and to my surprise, with a smile.

“Welcome, Holte.”

“Thank you,” he says with a rose colored smile to the server, plucking the black book from the middle of the table before I could even think to grab it first. With a quiet sigh, I watch him fish out his wallet and slide a sleek credit card out from a sleeve, stuffing it into the small pocket inside the book, without even a glance inside. “What’s yer problem?” he huffs, chewing on the mint-flavored toothpick and pointing his eyes at me. His eyebrows do all of the talking that stops me from refusing.

“You don’t have to pay for me, I can pay for my own meal,” I insist firmly, touching my wallet that I had pulled out and placed next to my dwindling glass of water.

“I know that,” he begins with strength in his voice, and I worry that I just offended him. I’m afraid it could erase the memorable first meal we just had together of brunch, talking about his case and actually finding out things that he likes and enjoys. “But I would like t’ treat you, and I did invite you after all,” he finishes, smiling briefly when the server returns the book. Sliding out his credit card, he replaces it in his wallet and instead grabs a few bills that he tucks into the black book. “Goin’ t’ argue with me some mo’, are we?”

“No.”

“Good choice,” Harry replies, and when he meets my eyes across the round wooden table, I think that I may see him smile at me.

“But-.”

“And what tha bloody hell d’ya want now?” he grins, propping his chin on his upheld fist, his cheeks round from his smile.

“Maybe I wanted to pay for your meal too.”

“You can tha next time, love. Alright?” he replies softly. When he tears his eyes away to glance at his dinging phone, something stirs inside of me and I wish I could make him look at me like that again. I wish I could create another moment where it feels like he actually likes me.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that, love?” he asks with that breathy laugh of his I’ve only heard a few times now, and never has it been because of me.

“You go back to calling me Becks . . no more ‘Holte,’” I announce slowly and carefully, because if I said them too fast or not just right, I’m afraid that they may break altogether and ruin it. One corner of his mouth reaches higher up his cheek, and I think that for the first time, I’ve made him smile all on my own. “I like it when you call me that.”

“I like it too, darlin’. Reckon ya could be a good lawyer, y’know, with that convincin’ face o’ yers, yer hard t’ say no t’,” he answers, standing to his feet and sliding on his coat, waiting for me to do the same. Does that mean my puppy dog eyes worked on him, fucking finally?

“Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“Yer not allowed t’ call me that anymo’ then,” Harry says, looking back over his shoulder at me, a few steps ahead of me now.

“Okay,” I agree softly, and the breath hitches in my throat when his eyebrows raise at me with the smallest of smirks. “Harry.”

“Good, I like tha sound o’ that betta.”

“Me too,” I echo ever so quietly, stepping out into the fall air as he holds the door open for me, dreading the strange friendship of ours that will end in the next few moments. A friendship that I wish could live within the walls of the firm, and inside of my heart as something more.

“Ya, that all sounds great. I can’t wait fer this weekend . . Ya, ‘ll ask her soon and let y’know . . Alright, bye,” I hear from down the hall in a happy lilt. Within moments, the smile I hear in his voice appears before my eyes, and somehow only grows brighter.

“What are you smiling about? Oh, and what’s this you’re going to ask me?”

“I neva said I had sumthin’ t’ ask you,” he shrugs with a rosiness to his round cheeks, gliding into his office with his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Don’t be rude.”

“‘m not,” he giggles softly, stopping at his desk to grab his dark gray Macbook.

“You don’t have me convinced, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, letting my chin fall into my hand as I open up my Google Docs.

“Ah, I rememba when ya used t’ call me that, ‘s been awhile.”

“You can say that again, and God, don’t get too big of a head about it,” I huff with an ironic laugh, feeling myself pulled down memory lane regrettably. “I was just thinking about that, and how much things have changed.”

“Too true,” Harry hums, getting comfy beside me on the sofa while his Macbook blankets his face in a soft glow. “You were Holte and I was Mr. Styles or sir sumtimes. Talk ‘bout a bloody blast from tha past,” he tsks and I find myself nodding along with him. Glancing over to him, my eyebrows fall as my cheeks deceive me with a balmy warmth filling them.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” I wheeze, my fingers drifting to my hair nervously. After all of this time, he can still make me blush like there’s no tomorrow.

“What, I can’t admire me pretty girlfriend?” he scoffs with a shake of his head, booping my nose with his finger. Sometimes, I really still can’t believe that I get to be called that by him.

“I guess you can.”

“Reckon ya should be nicer t’ yer boss, miss. ‘m tha person who signs yer checks,” he tuts while I admire the beauty of his side profile, still trying to get used to how he looks without a beard. Give him back his long hair and it would be like the beginning all over again, although I’m not sure why I keep thinking back to then. I’m not even positive if it’s a good or bad nostalgia.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” he returns in a high pitched voice, imitating me, I suppose. His bubbly laugh soon follows and so do those olive greens that return to me, quite possibly my favourite color in all of existence. “Look at us, bug, back where it all started, aren’t we?” he coos, pulling me into his side and pressing his lips to my head in a loud smooch.

“Mmmhmm, better than ever.”

“Yes, we are. A new beginnin’ o’ sorts, Becks. I dunno how I got so lucky with you,” he winks and thumbs at my chin, his lips only a breath away.

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

“No, that’s me,” he argues with his trademark breathy laugh, and before I get two words out, my comeback is smothered with a kiss. I really did get lucky, luckier than little old me ever thought I would, or could.

God, I’m so proud of her - the old Becks. Him, too. The new us, and especially the old us. We earned this.

“Woman, I swear t’ bloody God if ya send me one mo’ bleedin’ photo o’ a puppy ‘stead o’ writin’ yer brief, imma boot you outta me office and yer not allowed back.”

“Harry!” I scoff after a sound of disbelief, my eyes tearing away from the Google search and to him. His chin is held in his palm while he taps his temple with his pointer finger, eyebrows raised in a silent question at me. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, you wanna try me, Holte?” he returns with his eyes narrowed at me, giving me a nod.

Huffing, I look away and back to my laptop, to a screen filled with photos of golden retriever puppies. “Y’know, you’ll seal yer fate if ya roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I won’t,” I grumble softly, closing out of the tab sadly.

“Good girl,” he hums, tapping the corner of my laptop from above. Looking up, his green eyes draw me over, but I don’t let them pull me in. “Good girl listenin’ t’ yer boss, bug,” he finishes with a wink.

“Don’t call me that, you know I don’t like it,” I retort curtly, switching tabs to my brief where the cursor stares back at me, daring me to try my hand at it.

“But ’s cute, brings back good memories. I like tha name, ’s yer last name. Rebecca Holte,” he teases, nosing at my cheek that grows warmer with every word he speaks.

“For you it does, not me, Harry,” I almost snap, closing the laptop with a sudden clap! He clears his throat and the sound is followed by that of his velvet black Chelsea boots backing up. Spiegel im Spiegel floats from his iMac across the room, a black folder sitting in front of it with now forgotten documents.

“‘m sorry, Becks, it wasn’t tha best o’ times fer me either . . ,” Harry says softly. I wouldn’t have to even look and I know that his lip is held between his teeth like a vice. At my eye level, he twirls a red gemstone ring around a finger, much like I do when something is itching at my insides annoyingly.

“It was the best of times and the worst of times, somewhat minus the best part,” I mumble, picking at the Coldplay sticker already peeling from the lilac case of my laptop.

“Hey, it wasn’t all that bad when ya think o’ tha good parts, babe. Tacos at Pedro’s, stayin’ late drinkin’ wine coolers togetha, tha Halloween party, all o’ our games o’ Scrabble, takin’ you t’ that charity ball with the masquerade theme, and meeting me best friend in tha whole entire world.”

“You know how to work the floor, you know that?” I say gently, smoothing down the sticker with the back of my fingernail.

“Looks like we need anotha night at mine, paintin’ our nails togetha,” he pipes up, but when I remain silent, he returns to my comment that he so easily ignored. “Well yes, yer datin’ a lawyer here, bug. That’s how I swept you off yer feet, dontcha rememba?”

“I dunno about that,” I giggle, ever so slightly, distracted by his hands that come into view and his rings that I bother with. At last, I find those green eyes waiting for me, just as they always do.

“Hey, why tha long face, my love?” he coos sadly, eyebrows bent beneath the weight of his words. “‘m sorry t’ upset you, ‘m not gonna kick you outta me office, y’know I couldn’t handle you bein’ gone eitha.”

“I know,” I titter softly, sliding off his silver ring dotted with little figures and placing it on my thumb where it still hangs loose.

“I like tha name, maybe even fer a boy one day . . Holte,” he muses happily, but I can’t find any words that I’d be willing to say. Instead, I pry the jewelry from my hand and swiftly glide it back onto his. “Altho’ I reckon I treated you like shit when I called you that.”

“Just a bit.”

“‘m sorry t’ drudge tha memory up like I did,” he whispers, only feeding the awkward tension waiting in the air. His lanky figure leaves its place in front of me, reminding me of the money tree sitting across me by the window, an ironic gift from Myles last month. “Can I help you with yer brief, li’l one?” Harry continues, the cushion underneath me dipping with his weight. I nod before I even feel his hand squeeze my adjacent shoulder and pull me into his side with a lasting kiss to my forehead. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” I echo, tipping my head to his shoulder as he lifts the closed laptop from my lap. Laying back, he props it on his spread lap as I snuggle into his side.

“I like what ya have so far, I think yer inna good spot. How ‘bout this, next we . . . . ,” Harry says after reading the document, but with his greens back in sight and that dimple threatening to pop loose, I find it hard to listen to a word he says while staring up at him. My boyfriend. Can you believe it, Becky? “You even listenin’ t’ me there?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to when you’re so cute.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles with rosy cheeks, the dimples loud and proud at the helm of his smile. “Alright, let’s take a break from goo-goo-gaga land for a few, Ms. Holte, and work on yer brief fer yer case that’s bein’ heard next week. Alright?”

“Alright,” I sigh with a slight pout that he sees instantaneously with a shake of his head.

“Shall I entice you? Dunno why I should hafta, but I guess we all need a li’l bit o’ bribery e’ry now and then,” he smirks, finishing his words with a wink. “My Becks likes bribes.”

“Oh and what, you don’t, Ha-,” the giggle flows from my lips, and is yanked in by his that silence my words. Sometimes, I really do wish that I could tell The Old Me about how good it gets, and to hold on, because it may be a bumpy ride, Old Becky, but it’s going to all pay off in the end.

“Bloody hell, no wonder ya’ve had t’ pee ten times t’day. Chill on tha caffeine, would ya?” somebody gripes from behind me, but it falls away when their arms come around my middle, soon nosing at my neck.

“Hey, I gave into coffee long ago. It owns me by now,” I return, closing the top to the Keurig. After pressing a few buttons, the machine begins to whir and spit out the dark liquid. My neck tickles from his warm breaths behind me, and the feeling of his lips.

“Becks?”

“Yeah, Harry?” I respond, my hands finding their way to surround his that lay clasped over my belly. The tip of his middle finger ghosts over my several inch scar, making me wonder when he had memorized it in his mind.

“My mum ‘s comin’ t’ visit this weekend, t’ see Gemma and tha kids, and me. She’s comin’ over t’ mine Saturday mornin’ fer brekky . . and I was uh, wonderin’ if ya’d like t’ join us? If ya’d like t’ meet me mum at last? She hasn’t stopped askin’ t’ meet you fer tha last two months.” the words leave his lips in an announcement, taking away all else and no longer do I feel his hands on my stomach or hear the churning of the coffee. Turning around, his dimples live far away and so does his bottom lip that’s trapped between his teeth, telling me that I’m not the only one being consumed by my nervousness. “I reckon she’s mo’ excited t’ see you than she ‘s t’ see me,” Harry chuckles but the light on his lips sputters out when I tear my eyes away from his hopeful ones.

“Harry, I . . “

“What ‘s it, Becks?” he whispers. My eyes close when he noses against my cheek, his next words crawling along my neck. “Y’know she’ll love you, ‘ssa given, babe.”

“How can she love me when she hasn’t even met me?”

“‘Cuz yer so lovable, that’s why,” he insists from below my ear, mouthing at the hollow that lives there. “Why’re ya so nervous, babe? I reckon this ‘s a piece o’ cake compared t’ how I met yer bloody parents, in hospitals o’ all places.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t complain,” I respond quietly, but that’s all that I can think of when we pull apart at the sound of a voice from behind the break room door. Clearing my throat, I turn back to my mug of coffee where the last few drops plop into the steaming liquid.

“Promise you it’ll be okay. There’s nuthin’ t’ be nervous ‘bout, she’s tha sweetest woman ‘ve ever met- well, besides you that ‘s,” Harry says quietly, eyes wandering between our guest and me. “‘s jus’ brekky and if ya like, dinner at me sista’s that night too.”

“Two in one?” I exclaim, setting down my coffee and turning to face him where he leans against the counter. The smirk painted across his face spreads to his shoulders that he shrugs ever so smugly. “God, Harry, bombard me much?” I sigh sarcastically with a shake of my head, turning away from him and watching how the coffee does somersaults when I pour creamer into it.

“Well? Ya aren’t jus’ gonna leave me hangin’ there, Becks, are you?” he plods on, pulling at the cuff of my blazer impatiently while one of the blokes from IT rummages through the refrigerator.

“I dunno, Harry, meeting two family members in one day is a lot to ask of me,” I tut jokingly with my lips pressed into an uncertain line. The disappointment on his face melts away when I find his greens with my own again. “Of course I’ll meet your mum, but I’m supposed to have dinner with Skye and her parents Saturday night, so I can’t make it to your sister’s, I’m sorry. It seems to be a popular weekend for parents to come into town.”

“Oh, I rememba you mentionin’ that now. ‘m sorry, I forgot. No worries on meetin’ me sista, she lives in town y’know, so we’ll jus’ find anotha day,” he agrees in a soft voice, brushing it off expertly. “Yer not gettin’ outta that one that easily, Becks,” he teases, pointing a finger at me that I push away.

“If you meet Skye’s mum, I’ll meet your sister. Sound like a deal?”

“Skye’s mum?” he questions, crossing his arms over his chest with knotted brows. I almost giggle at the confusion swept over his face until the bulging of his muscles beneath the arms of his button up pulls me in and far away. Once again, this man really does know what he’s doing to me, even when he’s not exactly aware of it.

“Yes,” I exhale, dragging my eyes back to my tan colored coffee. Finished with the creamer, it closes with an excited snap! “I was nervous for you to meet my mum, although I never thought it’d happen, but I’m more about you meeting Eliza, Skye’s mum. She’s more of a mum to me than mine ever was, always letting me sleep over when things got bad with mine, and Robbie too. I’d really like for you to meet her, maybe lunch or something while she’s in town the next few days.”

His eyes are soft and light dances within them, just for me. “‘Course, bug, ‘d love t’ meet her. She sounds lovely, and so would lunch with her and Skye. Altho’ ‘m not sure how somebody who birthed Skye could be lovely,” he jokes and quickly laughs when my jaw slackens. “‘m bloody jokin’ and whateva ya do, don’t tell her I said that,” he chuckles, enjoying this far too much than he should be.

“You’re really going to be in for it with Skye now,” I giggle with a dismissive shake of my head as I lift the mug to my lips.

“What’s new?” he asks with his hands held out in front of him, leaving my side to grab a Styles and Lawson mug from the cabinet, identical to my own. “I thought you and Rose didn’t like our mugs, so why d’ya keep usin’ ‘em, hmm?”

“I dunno, they have . . good handles.”

“Sureeeee, Becks,” he tuts as the K-Cup falls into the holder with a signifying pop! “So, Saturday then?” he says nonchalantly while placing the mug under the impending stream of caffeine. He continues his trained practice of his voice dipping when the bloke gets too close to us- Brian, I think it is, I can’t remember. He really does know what he’s doing, this man of mine.

My name on his lips rouses me from my overactive thoughts and pulls my eyes over to his and his already five o’clock shadow, distracting me from the clang! of the door closing. “What should I wear?” I wonder aloud with placid lips that only move to imitate the emotion yanking his towards the heavens.

“You’ll look gorgeous in absolutely anythin’, bug, and ‘s jus’ brekky. Please, ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout meetin’ her, she’s so easy t’ get on with. ‘s like she already knows you from everythin’ ‘ve told her ‘bout you over tha years.”

“Wow, no pressure or anything,” I exhale loudly, glad to have the room back to ourselves, and for the way his arms lull the monsters away. “Do I even want to know what you’ve told her?”

“I dunno, sumthin’ along tha lines o’ how ‘m in love with this girl, and have been fer awhile now,” he coos into my ear, zings sent down my spine when his lips brush my earlobe. The next words stop in their tracks on my tongue and my arms stop halfway to wrapping around him.

“Wait,” I begin lightly, taking a step back and wishing I could in this conversation. “You’re in love with me?” I say tentatively, the front of his blazer grounding me to this moment when my fingers grab onto it.

“I thought that you knew . . that it went without sayin’,” he giggles with cheeks resembling apples, both by shape and color. “I couldn’t be anythin’ other than that, Becks.”

“Huh,” I hum absently, admiring the threads of each white flower that climb from the sides of his slacks and all the way up to his lapels between my fingers.

I think I lose my grasp on them when his lips attach themselves to my forehead, and I just hope that he can’t feel the racing of my pulse all the way up there. That may not be possible, but to feel the way his lips curl against my skin is, and a whisper of a laugh.

“Reckon ‘s time we have a li’l argument over who’s been in love with tha other fer longer, innit?” Harry begins before a kiss brings an end to his words, their sound whisked away by a long silence that I fear. “Ya don’t hafta say it back y’know, I won’t-.”

“It’s not you,” I interrupt, my fear quickly being allotted to the same emotion that wipes his face clean. “The winner, I mean. I’ve been in love with you far longer, that’s for sure.”

“Can ya maybe not gi’mme a bloody heart attack there?” he giggles, clutching at his chest.

“What, I rarely get the chance to one up you, so I have to take it!” I exclaim and my eyes grow wide when I see the look on his face. One of his signature looks. A squeal tickles the air when he lifts me off of my feet and into the air. “Harry Styles!”

“What, Rebecca Ann?” he titters after a few spins, soon setting me down on my feet. My lips have only parted when he silences them with his, and I wonder how I went from dreaming a dream that I knew could never exist and now, getting to live it every second of every day.

“I think I fell in love with you when I saw you get off that lift,” I begin, looking away shyly, but he doesn’t let me get away with it, lifting my chin with his finger. He may let me get away with loads of shit, but no, not this time. “That night in Madley, at the hospital . . . but I think I had fallen in love with you a little bit loads of other times before, and not known it.”

“I swear, woman, tha amount o’ times ya make me fall fer you all over ‘gain,” Harry wheezes with damp eyes, shaking his head with the largest contradicting smile. “C’mere, my love . . Bloody hell, I think ya win this one, ‘cuz I can’t even rememba tha moment I fell fer you, ‘s been so many times fer me as well. Reckon I prolly told me mum each time they happened too.”

“Saturday should be fun then,” I joke from the corner of his neck, relaxing with my exhale against him.

“Yes, it shall. Until then, let’s get goin.’”

“What, where?” I giggle, finding the glitter in his eye that I have a hard time remembering them being without.

“‘s Tuesday, silly,” he titters with dimples shining, and face skewed into a confused question. “Let’s go get our tacos. ‘ll even buy ya extra churros.”

“That’s the only reason I’m going,” I joke, feeling him squeeze my hand. When I look over to him, I find those warm greens painting their happiness all over me.

“Don’t be bloody rude,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, holding the door open for me.

Although this impromptu ‘meeting the parents’ gig is eating away at my nerves, I can’t help but grow in excitement at the idea of meeting the very person I have to thank for him.

My God, I have my whole world to thank her for.

We had fallen into our own routine at work and quickly, but that was due to ‘push came to shove’ and there was no real way around it. Much to my mortification, Harry had told me that while in the hospital Myles had informed the rest of the legal team at the firm that we were dating, and so they knew. There wasn’t any way around it really, trying to explain why Harry was also gone for the same length I was from work, and suddenly. Regardless, Harry and I still avoided acting like we were dating, and at times I let it get to me, dwelling over the fact that everybody knew our secret. It was fun at first to keep, but it grew out of hand swiftly. It frustrated me often and I think it did the same for Harry, refraining from hugging when a team meeting went well or we won a case. The rules of the courtroom were far stricter, but it still upset me at times.

Like now, seeing how Amelia’s substitute was flirting it up with Harry, unbeknownst to him. It’s not like I could exactly walk up to them and tell her to stop, although it bothers me how her flirting goes through one of his ears and out the other while he shows her how to do something at the front desk.

“Fuck me,” I groan, giving up on waiting for him and going ahead with what I was doing. Blinking hard and filling my lungs with air, my opal necklace dances below my collarbones with every step.

I find that I have the room to myself, and as the copier beeps with each button that I press, I hum a song to myself. The documents sitting in my hands are whisked away by the large machine, a newer and larger one since my first time here. Thank God, because that thing was always having problems.

“I think somebody’s got a little crush on our boss out there,” somebody snickers from the doorway. My eyes flit over to find Jennings waltzing into the copier room, his horn rims perched on his long nose. Awkwardly, I look away and answer with a soft ‘mmhmm.’ I occupy myself with watching the machine spit out new sheets onto its bottom tray. “I hope you’re not too jealous,” he jokes with a loud laugh, but I don’t echo it. Why would I? Could you bring up anything more awkward or inappropriate to say to me, Jennings?

“I’m fine,” I answer gently, picking up the stack after the whirring sound finishes. Stepping to the side, I tap the stack against the black counter and slide open a drawer.

“Figure I owe you a congrats on your Employee of the Month recognition, that’s a rather big deal,” he continues, meandering through the wire shelves of supplies across the room from me.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I return with emphasis in my voice, feeling out the lack of compassion in his. Clearing my throat, I dig around in the plastic tray set in the drawer until I grab a few large binder clips.

“I’ve worked here for years, and haven’t had the luck of getting it since they started it this year,” he remarks, shaking a box of pens that he plucked from the shelf.

“It’s only April, I’m sure you’ll have your chance,” I say slowly, separating my piles and tapping them against the counter until they’re neat and tidy.

“I dunno about that, I haven’t even made bloody partner yet here. You’ll probably make it before me, seeing as how you have an in with the boss,” Jennings nearly retorts, and I gulp hard, suddenly reminded of the iffy feeling I’ve always had about him. I can’t place the blame on myself though, because he’s given me good reason for it, and I hope that he isn’t about to give me more. “It’s a shame you lost your case last week though, I hope Harry wasn’t too upset with you, but I’m sure he couldn’t be mad at his little girlfriend. He would’ve been mad at Rose, or even me, but no, not you. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I begin, the papers threatened between my suddenly clammy fingers.

“Excuse me? I’d say it is, I don’t want you giving the firm a bad name now, but it looks like your boyfriend can’t save you from everything.”

“What are you implying?” I demand curtly, turning around swiftly just in time to watch him slip a Macbook charger into his pocket.

“I thought you were supposed to be a brilliant lawyer from what I hear, Becky, so I’ll leave that one up to you, wouldn’t you say?” Jennings poses with a dark glint in his eye, raising one thick eyebrow at me. “Oh wait, maybe I’ll give you a little help, seeing as how you couldn’t even win the case of that ex-wife racking up debt in her ex-husband’s name . . How do I say it? Well, I find it rather unfair the special treatment you receive, wouldn’t you agree? No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” he snickers, the swing and fall of his shoulders and eyebrows being more than enough for me to see.

Turning back around, I hastily fasten the clips onto the stacks of documents for Harry’s new case, and well, mine too, much to somebody’s dissatisfaction. Excerpts from legal books, testimonies, and rough drafts of the argument. The tapping of a pen against the wire shelf gnaws at my ears, and accelerates the time bomb inside of me.

“I don’t receive any special treatment, because of Harry or from him,” I mutter through gritted teeth, gathering the stacks all into one final pile. “I’d say that you’re being out of line and that you need to stop while you’re ahead.”

“Or what, you’ll tell your big, bad, boss boyfriend? Nobody likes snitches, you should know that. Plus, I’m his friend and I’ve known him longer than you, so who would he believe?” he chuckles darkly, igniting the hairs on the back of my neck with his impending footsteps. “Don’t deny it, you do receive special treatment. You get out of meetings and trainings even, the firm pays for your lunch several times a week I’m sure, you get overtime when you want it, you got a free thousand-dollar laptop again, and I’m sure your reviews will come out just sparkling. Not to mention, still having a job after being gone all that time after your accident. Did I miss anything there, Becky?” he finishes, his snarky words slithering along my back and into my ears where his breath wafts over me.

“‘s everythin’ alright in here?” comes a voice from out of the blue. The three-level paper organizer sat in front of me blurs as my eyes widen. The ball in my throat is met with an unsuccessful gulp when I feel a hand on my arm. I shrink away from the touch before he can squeeze it.

“Oh yes, I was just congratulating Becky on her Employee of the Month recognition. She deserves it,” Jennings answers for us, voice boisterous with faux cheer.

“Becks?” Harry murmurs, cautiously touching my arm again and this time, I don’t run away from his touch. “Alright?” he whispers questioningly, the gentleness of his voice wills my eyes over to him. There’s a pang in my gut when I watch the emotion mirrored on his face - alarmed with fear and confusion. “Hey, what’s tha matter?” he probes, the warmth of his rings seeping through the thin fabric of my long sleeved blouse.

“H-He . . was saying this stuff to me- awful stuff, and . . ,” I trail off quietly, my eyes flitting to the sandy brown hair I see from behind Harry, watching and listening as well.

“What tha hell did ya say t’ her, Pete?” Harry questions, turning to face his colleague as he holds my elbow firmly.

“Nothing,” he almost laughs, and then he makes a sound as if something came to mind. “Okay, okay. I guess I upset her when I told her that I saw her nick one of the Macbook chargers the other day. I approached the subject gently, just letting her know that they’re eighty bucks a pop, and she can only have one here at-.”

“What, I did not! You’re the one who just stuffed one down your pants, you liar!” I scoff, spinning to face them both. “You did it when you were accusing me of getting special treatment from Harry!” I exclaim with my voice breaking in mid-sentence, the explanation soon growing wet.

“What?!” Harry breathes, shock coating his every syllable. “Pete, what in tha bloody fuck ‘s tha matter with you? Becks would never steal and- wait, yer accusin’ her o’ gettin’ treated special jus’ ‘cuz she’s datin’ me? Have ya fell off yer fookin’ rocker, mate? I don’t treat Myles any bleedin’ different fer bein’ me best friend all me life, I treat e’rybody here tha fookin’ same, if ya hadn’t noticed. I reckon ‘s none o’ yer damn business how I mentor her, and don’t forget who fookin’ hired you as well, mate, and who can fire you.”

“I just dunno why I’ve been here for how many bloody years as only a senior associate, mind you, and in walks her and-.”

“I don’t care what yer fookin’ problem ‘s, Pete, but maybe I would’ve if ya’d bloody brought it t’ me instead o’ takin’ it out on her. ‘m yer boss, mate, I coulda helped you, so what good was it t’ cuss her out ‘cuz ya feel like shit?” Harry interrupts defensively, and with a blink, I see the redness rising in their faces.

“Harry, please, let’s just go. I’m fine,” I beg, taking his hand and pulling on it. He doesn’t move an inch, and neither do his eyes from Jennings.

“I tried, if you hadn’t noticed, but you were always too fucking busy for me, weren’t you? ‘Cause apparently, the only people who can get your bleeding attention as of late are those who are sucking your prick,” Jennings shrugs matter of factly. The surprise morphing my features and shaking my body is nothing compared to the shift in Harry’s demeanor.

“Harry,” I begin when his fingers slip from mine. “No, don’t!” I exclaim, stepping forward and grabbing onto his arm, but my fingers only grasp at air.

“A li’l fookin’ jealous, are we? Would ya rather it be you suckin’ me dick?” he jests at Jennings who steps closer to him.

“Jealous of that? Fucking, hell no. I can’t believe you even call her a lawyer,” Jennings retorts, pushing his glasses off his nose and into his hair. “I see now why you hired her, she must be pretty fucking good at giving head and-.”

“Harry!” I almost shout, wanting to step forward and instead backing up when I watch his fist fly. A wrenched sound escapes my lips when I see it connect with Jennings’ face, but it shrinks in comparison to the tear that splits my heart when Harry’s knocked back by Jennings’ swing. “Stop it! Now!” I nearly scream through a curtain of tears, my throat burning. Only then, does Harry lift his head of messy curls to look at me, wiping his fist against his nose that comes back red.

Muttered curses fall from Jennings as he leaves hastily clutching his cheek, and I remain frozen until I see the blood gush from his nose.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?” I cry, rushing forward and surrounding his face with my hands.

“What was I thinkin’? I was thinkin’ I was standin’ up fer you, I wasn’t gonna let him say one mo’ nasty word ‘bout you, Becks. I could do with a thank you, y’know,” he sighs, eyeing the scarlet plummeting to the marbled floor with silent plops.

“Harry,” I sob with a dismissive shake of my head, brushing back his hair to find the shock of red skin surrounding his nose below his eye.

“Oh, baby, ‘m so sorry,” he huffs, grabbing a handful of tissues from a shelf and shoving them against his nose. At last, he yanks me into his arms and there I shed my tears into his cream button down that’s already marred by his sudden bloody nose. “I didn’t mean t’ frighten you, it jus’ happened so fast . . But I don’t regret it, standin’ up fer you . . I can’t believe tha mouth on him . . ‘m so sorry he said those things t’ you, none o’ them are true, I hope y’know.”

Sniffling, I move away and find his eyes that beg for me, “Don’t let what he said get t’ you fer one second, e’rythin’ he said was lies, Becks. Every li’l thing, I promise you that,” he says firmly, pulling away a strand of hair that sticks to my cheek slick with tears. “‘d never let sumbody hurt you like that . . never ever.”

“I haven’t even sucked your dick yet,” I giggle from beneath him, and then, can I start to relax when his giggle graces the air.

“Ya, ‘d rather we keep that info’ t’ ourselves, wouldn’t you?” he snickers with that breathy laugh I love so dearly. “Don’t need tha whole bloody firm knowin’ I haven’t even gotten me dicked properly sucked yet.”

“Hey!” I shoot back, slapping at his chest ever so faintly.

“‘m kiddin’, bug. Y’know I don’t care it hasn’t happened yet, e’rythin’ in good time,” he insists, pulling me back against his front. I relent, but remain with my eyes pointed skywards. “I mean it, don’t worry yer pretty li’l head ‘bout inconsequential shit like that, or what he said.”

“You’re still an idiot,” I sigh, caressing his cheek that tickles my hand with its stubble.

“Why, ‘cuz ‘ll have a bruised up face fer our lunch with Skye and her mum t’day, or fer brekky with mine?” he jokes with a grin half hidden by his handful of Kleenex.

“Yes, and no. Wait- you will. Harry!” I whine, only making him laugh against my hair when he kisses the top of my head. “No, you idiot, you’re not going to get it to stop bleeding like that. Sit down.”

“Yes, m’am. I always knew I had a thing fer in charge women,” he snickers with a click of his tongue, stealing a kiss from my cheek before dragging over a chair against the wall.

“Okay, give me the tissues. Thanks, now- No, you’ll only swallow blood that way. What, are you stupid?” I instruct, leaving him one to manage the nosebleed by himself as I fold up the rest. “Here, you need to hold them against your nose and with your other hand, pinch the bridge of your nose as you look down. Do that for, I dunno, five or ten minutes until it stops bleeding. Let me go and get you some ice for that shiner of yours.”

“‘m fine, Becks. Really. All I want ‘s fer you t’ stay,” he says, grabbing hold of my hand when I turn away to leave. His expressive eyebrows near his hairline when he raises them at me in a near dare, but all I can see is the man I love and those eyelashes I’m so jealous of. “And t’ apologize, even tho’ ‘m not even really sorry for what I did.”

“Apology accepted,” I concur sarcastically, stepping back to lean against the counter. “I’ll let you be an idiot this one time.”

“Hey, don’t get yer hopes up too high now,” the sound of his giggle floats away and then my eyes are lulled to our hands that he laces together with a squeeze.

“Thank you, Harry,” I tell him sincerely, finding those greens hidden amongst his obnoxious curls.

“You’re sure?” she asks in between the noises that sound like bubbles trickling from her lips.

“Yes, ‘m sure. Dunno how many times I hafta tell ya.”

“You know it’ll never be enough,” she giggles below me, her face screwed up in absolute happiness. “Harry!” she yelps, shoving at my chest weakly.

“I know it won’t, yer stubborn as a bloody bull, you are,” I tsk with a click of my tongue, her body jolting with every stroke of my fingers across her ribs. Chuckling, I back up and watch how the laughs still peel off of her lips. “What’re you laughin’ at now, hmm? ‘m not even ticklin’ you anymo’ and yer still laughin’, li’l one.”

The crinkles around her eyes remain and so does the divot in her left cheek that I love almost as much as her eyes, but not quite. Speaking of, those very blues open up and land on me with a glitter to them, only to flee when the chime of the doorbell rings throughout the house. I watch how the skin of her throat is disrupted by a nervous swallow, followed by the automatic twirling of her ring around her pointer finger.

“Coming!” I call behind me, glancing to the door and then her. The way her dark waves are splayed across the sofa cushions. The glittery opal that sits perfectly above the scoop of her maroon blouse. The pink seeping through in her cheeks that I could kiss until I taste their sweetness.

“You’re really sure, Harry?” Becks asks softly, her eyes wandering nervously to the front door and then me.

“Yes, ‘m absolutely positive she’ll love you. Now, take a deep breath and let’s go answer tha door.”

A small ‘okay’ greets the air as her fingers fall between mine that I reassuringly squeeze. My steps come to a halt in front of the cherry oak, but I’m not quite there. Looking up, my thoughts are confirmed when I see my arm outstretched holding onto her where she stands, much too far away.

“C’mere,” I laugh in a whisper, tugging on her arm until she arrives at my side. The smell of orange blossoms and vanilla flood my senses as I pull away from the forehead kiss.

“You know, she’s going to be mad, don’t you?” I pose, ghosting my thumb over the concoction of purple and blue painted below his eye.

“Hush, li’l one, I already have one mum. I don’t need anotha,” he chirps with a teasing wink, twisting open the door.

“What is this I’m going to be mad about?” a voice pipes up with a curious accusatory sound to their voice. “Harry Edward!” she exclaims, not even one foot in the door. “What’d you do to your beautiful face?”

“I uh, ran into a door. Y’know, my sunglasses were really dark and-,” he begins, but much to my surprise and happiness, his mother doesn’t let him get away with the terrible lie. I’m liking her already.

“Don’t lie to your mother, son,” she tuts with a shake of her head, lightly smacking the back of his head that he mutters an ‘ow!’ at. The oddly cold Spring day rushes in with her first steps, but my insides warm at the sigh she shares with me when our eyes meet. “I thought you were old enough to know better to avoid fist fights.”

“Pete started it, not me!”

“I don’t care who started it, you’re a grown man, Harry.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him,” I groan, watching him take her coat to hang in the closet beside the stairs.

“Bloody hell, I see you two are gettin’ on already. Who’s side are you on, anyways?” Harry scoffs, closing the dark cherry wood door.

“Yes, I see we are. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Becky. I’ll just blame it on me son keeping you away from me,” Harry’s mum croons, her lips painted with lipstick spreading into a cheery smile. Chuckling, I ignore Harry’s arguing ‘hey!’ as I step forward into her outreached arms. “I think I have a bone to pick with him, you’re prettier than he ever said you were.”

“So are you,” I chortle, picking up on the geranium and amber notes of her perfume before I step away to find her cobalt blue eyes smiling at me.

“I do like her!” she chuckles to Harry, squeezing my opposite arm that she still holds onto.

“What’d I tell ya?” Harry pipes up, nodding at me. “Two peas inna pod already, you lot are. Talkin’ shit ‘bout me and motherin’ me togetha in tha first bleedin’ minute ya’ve met,” he sighs, taking down three white plates from the cabinets that he reaches easily with his height.

“That’s good, I need somebody else here to mother you while ‘m away. I reckon it doesn’t help much when you’re too stubborn to avoid boyish fist fights,” she returns, turning to me with a joking look in her eyes. Our laughs echo the others as she leads me over to the oval wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island, against the sliding patio door. “Who better than your girlfriend and colleague?”

“I guess so,” Harry groans, pulling back a chair for her to sit, soon falling into the chair across from me. “Neither o’ you even let me get t’ tha introductions, you women and yer talkin,’” he grunts, pulling himself closer to the table. With a calming breath, he runs a hand through his hair and pushes up the sleeves of his olive green knitted jumper. “Mum, this ‘s me girlfriend, Becky, but I like t’ call her Becks. And bug, this ‘s me mum, Anne. Shall we finally have that brekky togetha we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout fer months?”

“Yes, let’s dig in,” Anne chuckles, a sliver of Harry’s song heard in her voice. “Oooo, ‘s this apple bread by the famous chef I’ve heard so much about?”

“Yes, she doesn’t disappoint, never ever,” Harry winks, licking a crumb off of his thumb after grabbing a slice of the bread. A pink sits in his cheeks that I’m sure is mirrored in my own, and perhaps greater. I look away with a small smile, shoveling the egg bake onto my plate. “Not in tha court room, with baking, or with how good o’ job she does takin’ care o’ me,” he muses with a glint in his eye and cheeks rounder than I’ve ever seen.

I go on and listen to the stories, I even help tell some of them. Some of them make me tear up, whether it be from laughing, the wetness in Harry’s, or the love shining through in his and in hers.

“I told ya so.”

“Yeah, when don’t you?” I bite back, and immediately regret it when I feel his fingers along my ribs, eliciting laughs from my lips.

“Hey, watch it, li’l one. I have you inna compromisin’ situation here, so ya betta watch yerself,” Harry giggles, the words tickling my ear. The sounds continue from my lips and I hear them shadowed in his, and how they play off of each other while his hands keep my stomach warm. “I told ya she’d love you, and she did. Couldn’t shutup ‘bout you at Gemma’s last night, ‘specially tha fact you gave her a whole loaf o’ yer apple bread. You made her bloody day, ‘m sure. Speakin’ of, ya ready t’ meet me sista properly fer lunch t’morrow?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I groan, the words whisked away with a sound that my lips, I sometimes think, hold just for him. His stubbly face is itchy against my temple, but he remedies it with soft pecks to the skin.

“You guess?!” he exclaims, squeezing me around the middle. My head knocks against his, and he keeps my fingers secure between his while the smells of greasy pizza and floor cleaner lull me with their familiarity. His argument dissolves into a soft chuckle muffled against my hair where he mouths kisses.

“You know who I wish you could meet?”

“Hmmm, who’s that, bug?” Harry replies. Gulping, my eyes fall away from the crowds of people mingling around at the their tables, sucking the last few drops from their soda or guzzling pints. The answer flees from my lips, but after I twirl it around my finger a few times, I think he knows after he nuzzles his head against mine. “I wish I coulda meet yer gran,’ too, y’know. I wish you coulda met my granddad as well. ‘m sad I didn’t get t’ meet yers eitha . . . You’ll have t’ come home t’ Cheshire one o’ these weekends and meet me Gran’ Clara- Claire, she likes t’ go by. She’s a real hoot and already knows ‘bout you, naturally. She reminds me loads o’ Skye’s mum- bloody hell, I see where Skye gets tha crazies from now.”

“I agree with you on that one,” I titter and he nods into my neck, but the sounds fall when he spins the ring around my finger before folding my hands inside of his own.

In a whisper against my cheek, he whispers words that take away the breath I didn’t know that I had left. “‘m so bloody glad that I met you, Becks, and that we’re here . . finally. Met me mum, met Skye’s tha other day, and meetin’ me sista t’morrow. Harper will be delighted t’ see you, I know, and tha baby ‘s gettin’ bigger e’ryday.”

I nod and any words I had wanted to say escape me with the squeal garnered by his fingers digging into my tummy, remedied by a kiss below my ear.

“You lot are fucking disgusting, y’know that, don’t you?” comes a voice with a disdainful scoff. “It’s been your turn for a good thirty seconds now, Ree. Get going, would you?!”

“I know, ‘s great, innit? Go on, babe. Show me how t’ get a strike,” Harry teases with a loud kiss to my cheek to annoy Robbie, pushing me off of his lap where his arms wrapped around me kept us arm. It’s drowned out by the sound of surprise I utter when he slaps my ass with his hand.

“My fricken God, you two are embarrassing me,” Robbie groans, walking past me to pick up his pint from the table, and taking a seat beside his muddy Wellies. Turning around in shock, I find Harry’s greens lit with a smirk that shines on his face. “C’mon, Ree, bowl already! You’re shit half of the time anyways, what’s the difference now?” he jokes and a loud scoff graces the air, much to Harry’s amusement.

Sighing, I step up to the little contraption that wheels forward Robbie’s glittery navy blue bowling ball. I lean over to grab my electric yellow one etched with a white ‘7’ and widen my eyes at Harry’s green ‘10.’ Threading my fingers into the three holes, my clown like shoes step onto the polished wood, and I try to remain cool and calm. Closing my eyes, I grimace at their teasing of me from behind, but Harry’s contagious breathy laugh propels me forward.

“Ya, that’s me girl! Three pins down, woohoo!” he shouts loudly in a squeaky and sarcastic voice, holding up his beer in a fake cheer. Shaking my head with red cheeks, I wait for my ball to return and to try again.

Slowly, I realize with the ball heavy in my hands and my score falling far behind theirs on the tv above, that just like any other time, I don’t care if I win or lose. This time is different, listening to how my boyfriend and my twin brother joke from behind me and laugh, their conversation quickly turning to football and then music.

Sometimes, I have a hard time believing this is a day in my life after everything, and it’s only one of the firsts.

A/N: Hello, friends! Thank you SO MUCH to those still reading, and also to new readers! Welcome, and I’m so glad you’re here! I’m so sorry that this blurb took awhile than I originally planned . . it boggles me how I spend basically every minute I’m not working and shadowing doing homework :/ I hope to have the next blurb out in two weeks, so I’ll keep you all posted! Enjoy and let me know what you think, please! I love you all and good luck with everything!

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sdktrs12 · 4 years

Text

( Days 1 - 8 ) ( Days 9 - 16 )

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I see the problem here.” Annie says, grabbing two plastic cups and a bottle of vodka from the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and making her way over to Beth, settling in beside her on the couch. She twists open the top of the vodka, tossing the cap onto the coffee table before pouring a shot into each cup and Beth wrinkles her nose at the smell of the alcohol, like nail polish remover.

“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a bodyguard.” Beth answers, tone a little sharper than she intends, but she’s still very much annoyed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t call Mick a bodyguard—” Annie starts to point out, handing Beth her cup, and she takes it, waving it in the air as she cuts Annie off. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, he’s always just...swooping in and trying to take over. Trying to control things.”

‘Trying to control me’ sits on the tip of her tongue, but she refuses to let that one slip.

She holds her breath as she knocks back her shot, hoping it will help mask the taste.

It doesn’t.

“I dunno, sounds to me like he’s just trying to like, protect you. Which y’know, after everything...I think says a lot.” Annie knocks back her own shot and then grabs Beth’s cup, immediately refilling them both.

“He’s just so annoying.” Beth says, coughing a little at the burn in the back of her throat from the vodka, ignoring Annie’s comment and the way that burns in her chest. “With his stupid voice and stupid hoodie and stupid...mouth...” Beth trails off, momentarily distracted, remembering the things that stupid mouth had done to her—

“Don’t forget the stupid neck tattoo.” Annie inputs helpfully, gently prodding Beth back on track as she hands her the new shot and Beth tilts her head back and laughs. “Oh my god yes, that stupid tattoo. God, what even is that?”

“I have no idea.” Annie giggles out with a hiccup, getting caught up in her sisters laughter until they’re both leaning into each other. “I was too scared to ask, I thought everyone else knew.”

“No,” Beth says, drawing the word out as she shakes her head vigorously, “Is it like, an eagle? Or a falcon?”

“A raven! Maybe he was trying to draw inspiration from Poe. Dark and brooding aesthetics and all that.”

“Annie, have you ever seen a raven?” Between this and movie night, Beth is starting to have her doubts. “An owl maybe?” She adds thoughtfully, squinting as she tries to conjure both images up in her mind’s eye.

“It’s probably some sort of like, mythical bird. Something that’s risen from the ashes of hell, for sure.”

Beth huffs out another laugh as she sinks back into the couch cushions, staring down at the clear liquid inside of her cup, briefly lost in thought.

She’d come straight here after having it out with Rio in her backyard earlier that night.

Dean had decided to stay at the house for a few nights after what had happened at Paper Porcupine, wanting to make sure she got home safe at night, he had said.

She hadn’t felt like arguing, just watched as he’d dropped an overnight bag onto the floor of the living room. She’d brought out bedding for the couch for him that night.

Tonight when she’d gotten home however, she’d received a text from Rio and had left Dean in the living room with the kids to finish watching their movie as she’d slipped out into the backyard.

And they’d only been discussing the drop schedule for a few minutes when Rio’s eyes caught and stuck over her shoulder, and she’d looked behind her to see Dean through the window, moving around the kitchen.

( “He was worried after...after what happened at the store.” She said hesitantly, lifting her shoulder in a half shrug and Rio had shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’s easier to just let him—than to argue.” She stumbles on her words, not sure why she feels the need to explain to him at all.

And so what if having Dean around for a few days had made her feel a little better?

“Oh yeah? Don’t seem to recall you ever havin’ a problem with arguin’ before.”

Beth rolls her eyes as she wraps her arms around herself, the chilly night air making her shiver, hadn’t thought to grab a coat before coming outside. “It’s different. With...him. And he just wants me to be safe.”

There’s a flash of anger in his eyes before his features smooth out as he shakes his head, shoulders rolling back. “Nah, you roll over and play us both, shit ain’t that different, ma.”

Her eyes widen slightly as her mouth drops open and then she’s taking a step forward, seething as her hands curl into fists at her sides. “What is your problem?” She hisses, teeth clenching so hard she feels like her jaw might just snap.

“Only problem I got is you still not gettin' your house in order. Don’t need that shit affecting my business.”

“Our business.” She snaps, shaking her head slowly as she takes another step, this time away from him. “You are unbelievable.”

“Look, darlin’, all I’m sayin’ is—”

“Oh, I hear what you’re saying loud and clear, darlin’.” She mocks, flushed hot with irritation. “I’ve got the drop schedule now, I think we’re done here.”

Rio huffs out a laugh, shaking his head and she knows he’ll say something biting if she gives him the chance, so she turns away first.

“He ain’t the only one.” His words cut through the air, sharp and Beth turns back, eyebrows snapping together.

“What does that mean?”

He pauses, letting out an aggravated sigh. “I always got people watchin’ when you close.” He tilts his chin up toward the house, eyes hard as he adds, “You’ll always be safe, Elizabeth.” )

And then she’d been left frozen in shock as he’d walked away.

Now, Beth downs her second shot, leaning forward to drop the empty cup on the table before settling back into the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it to her chest.

“He didn’t even ask.” She points out quietly, knowing that argument is fairly weak and Annie snorts out a laugh as she refills their cups once more. “Neither did Deansie.” She shoots back and—okay, point taken.

And Beth’s about to protest that third shot, she still has to drive back home after all, when the lights in the apartment go out and they’re plunged into darkness.

“What the hell?” Annie says and Beth feels the couch shift as she stands up and she reaches into her back pocket to pull her phone out and turn on the flashlight feature.

Annie goes from room to room, flipping switches, cussing underneath her breath when none of them work. “I don’t know what’s going on here.”

“Did you pay your electric bill?” Beth asks from her spot on the couch and Annie whips around to glare at her. “Of course I paid my electric bill.” She snaps, then pauses for a second before carefully navigating her way over to the kitchen, picking through the messy pile of papers on the counter, making a noise of triumph as she finds the one she was looking for, holding it up and waving it in Beth’s direction. “Yes! See?”

“Okay, well look up the number so you can call them.” Beth instructs, standing up and looking around. “Where are your candles?”

Annie turns and digs some plastic taper candles out of one of the drawers and hands them off to Beth, who just stares back at her, eyebrows raised.

“Ben got rid of the real candles last week...when I may or may not have accidentally knocked one over and—almost burned the place down.” It comes out low and rushed together and her eyes dart over to the coffee table and Beth turns to look, holding her phone out to shine some light on it and—

Yup, there scorched into the wood is a black mark.

“Annie.”

Before Annie can defend herself, they hear commotion out in the hall and Annie rounds the table, Beth close on her heels as she opens up her front door and peeks her head out and they see a few of her neighbors milling around out in the hall, apparently having the same power issues.

Beth turns around and goes to look out the living room window. “It looks like it’s out for a few blocks.” She says, turning back around just as Annie closes her door.

Annie glances around a little nervously, wringing her hands in front of her, and Beth knows Ben isn’t coming home tonight, so it’ll just be Annie here after she leaves.

“You know what, I probably shouldn’t drive in this—”

“Yeah, not after those shots anyway. You can stay in Ben’s room.”

Annie grins and Beth smiles, turning on the fake candles and setting them up around the room while Annie pours them a double.

“Now, about gangfriend’s other tattoos...”

#Hauntober Prompts #Hauntober #Prompts #writing #fanfiction #ficlet #brio #will i ever stop writing utter nonsense?#survey says #noooooo

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shootingsun · 3 years

Text

There was a prompt knock at the door of Félix's guest room in the manor. Kali disappeared almost instantly to hide from the person about to enter the room. "Come in!" He called for the person at his door. Nathalie entered the room and looked around, seemingly searching for… something.

She's looking for me. Kali whispered into his ear.

"Your uncle desires to see you in his study soon." She deadpanned. Félix liked Nathalie, she was a decent person - although he still believed she was an idiot for putting up with Public Enemy Number 1, Gabriel Agreste.

As much as he despised his presence, there was something about the whole, "I tricked you into shaking my hand so I could steal these really cool rings that ended up being magical jewellery!" thing that was supposed to be just a fun little way to mess with him - it wasn't supposed to cause any more harm to their already unstable relationship.

That is, until now.

"Greetings, Félix." Said the designer, putting his arms behind his back. Because, being related is no exception to being professional at all times.

"Hello Uncle, you wanted to see me?"

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you for quite some time now. I assume you must already know what that is, correct?"

Ohshitohshitohshit! Quick, play dumb!

"I'm afraid not Uncle, I would be delighted if you were to enlighten me." He lied, internally screaming.

"Hmm. Well then, I'm sure you recall your visit a while back. Your mother has so kindly asked me to hand over the rings that seemed to belong to her family. Does that ring a bell?" He smirked.

That absolute bastard. Nobody talked about Félix's Mother in a passive aggressive manner!

Except for you, Kali reminded him.

"Yes Uncle, I do seem to remember that." He commented, rolling his eyes.

"A couple hours after you left, I couldn't find the ring anywhere in the mansion. I'm not accusing you of thievery, really - I just want to clear matters up."

"But Uncle, I seem to recall you having a ring on when Mother and I came to stay because of her production." He had, of course, stolen that ring too. He was petty like that, and they were his after all.

"True indeed. Coincidentally I lost that one too afterwards, which brings me to this point - may I check your hand to make sure of something?"

Ha, jokes on him, they weren't on his hand, he was smarter than that, they were hidden in a custom made pocket in his jacket, and that would be incredibly invasive for him to pull Felix's jacket off and search it without consent wouldn't it?

As expected, Gabriel didn't find anything. Then again, he's the same person who's been keeping tabs on two literal minors and still didn't succeed at stealing jewellery from them. Whatever Félix did was probably karma for all that. Either way, the topic at hand was another set of rings. And had he thrown a temper tantrum, it would've made him look especially bad in front of his mother. Oh, and his own kid too but, whatever, right?

"This is a one time offer, Félix. Hand over the rings, or I may take them myself. I have my very own ways to do so." He scoffed. "My patience has a limit."

And suddenly, Félix felt fear.

Fear that didn't come from him, it that came from…

Kali?

no, No, No… No, NO, NO!! Not AGAIN. I DON'T WANNA LEAVE! HE CAN'T MAKE ME LEAVE!

Kali, calm down!

Her emotions were like a flood, there was fear, then sadness, then anger and fear again. She had to calm herself down before they had a panic attack. How to get out of this situation…? He couldn't think straight, his breathing was sharp and shallow, mimicking his Kwami's.

Oh God.. this wasn't gonna end well was it?

This was it…

"Gabriel? I've been looking all over for you!" His Mother flounced into the room, thank god. He decided then and there that he would never make another sarcastic comment about her again.

"What is it this time?" He asked, slightly irritated.

"Gabriel, you know you always have a 2 o'clock meeting! Nathalie wanted to remind you, but the poor woman's having another dizzy spell and so I insisted I would come and get you instead!" She beamed passive aggressively, an art of which Amelie Graham de Vanily was well versed in.

It was moments like this that made Gabriel want to punch his in-laws - and it was moments like this that reminded Félix how much he absolutely loved his mother. She was always there, just on time.

Thank goodness for that.

His Uncle looked down. Then he glared at his nephew, and he sighed. "Thanks for the reminder, I'll be going soon." Is what he said, but what he really meant was, "This isn't over yet!" And Félix knew.

He stumbled out of the study, breathing wildly, attempting to block out his Kwamis pained screams. He slammed the door to the guest room closed and slumped into a chair.

Kali it's okay!

NO IT'S NOT! HE WANTS TO HURT US!

MAKE HIM STOP! MAKE HIM STOP!

Kali we're perfectly safe right now. He tried to reason.

We aren't safe as long as we're in this house! We need to leave! He wants to separate us!

That can't happen! It can't! It can't!

The thought of forcefully having his Kwami taken from him made Félix want to scream! But he had to remain calm.

Kali, that won't happen, I understand your fear, but you need to take a breath. He went first, showing the breathing exercise he had learnt over time, 5 in, hold for 7, out 8. As her breathing evened out, the Kwami began to lose her invisibility, her form flickered as she slowly calmed herself down.

Do you promise?

Huh?

Promise me that nobody will make me leave you, please?

Her voice and demeanor were unlike the Kali that had developed, it reminded him of when she had first come out of those rings.

Scared and afraid. And now he knew why.

I promise Kali, nobody will ever keep us apart.

And he truly meant that. Nobody, not even a superhero, could keep them apart for long.

Just a bit after that confrontation, someone came back from his most recent photoshoot. He found his cousin laying on his bed, likely lost in his thoughts.

He knew Félix was going through a hard time, and he also knew that they've been very close for most of their lives. Adrien would've done anything to help his cousin - and this instance was no exception.

"Hey! How come you're in my room?" He chuckled.

"Ah, erm, it appears I took a wrong turn, sorry about that…"

"How come? You never get lost usually…"

"Well, let's just say that your Father doesn't exactly do good things for my anxiety." He sighed.

"...Oh." And there it comes, stupid Adrien, wrapped around his father's finger, always choosing his parent over him! "Listen… I'm sorry."

What?

"I'm sorry! I think I owe you an apology," he frowned. "for, you know, constantly excusing my father. I'm sorry he's putting you through some stressful stuff, and I'm… not doing anything about it." He turned to look at him. "I hope you can understand that, really. I wish I could do something about it other than offer a shoulder to cry on, but I'm scared of disrespecting his wishes. I apologize." The boy muttered.

"...I guess I was wrong. You didn't do it to hurt me. I thought that was why-" Félix was dumbfounded. Adrien? Admitting his Father was a jerk?? Was this some kind of fever dream???

"...That was why I didn't go to your Dad's funeral?" He guessed. Félix quietly nodded. "No, I'd never want to do that, not after you were there for me when I lost Mom. I'm so sorry, Félix, I should have been there." Tears shone in the latter's green eyes.

"You shouldn't have to apologize, I'm sorry for the way I treated you! You were manipulated, I was just a jerk." He protested, how could he have thought such awful things about such a caring person?

Because you were grieving Lex, you still are.

Don't call me Lex - it was a weak response.

"We were both in pain. And look at you now, you're a good person, I know you are, I can feel it! So maybe since we both apologized for being jerks we just, I dunno, eat ice cream instead?" He smiled awkwardly, for a model he always was such a dork.

Félix raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you lactose intolerant?" he let out a smug grin.

"Oh hush! I can handle a tub of ice cream!" He was going to get so sick tomorrow... Eh, what the hell!

Hey, are you sure you don’t wanna tell him that you know he's Chat Noir?

Kali! You're ruining the moment!

-----------------------------------------

This fic was made in collaboration with @yawngearyoie at around midnight while we both craved hurt/comfort

This fic IS Cannon to our Bat Félix AU, and will be referenced in other oneshots and the fic. Approximately a quarter of this fic has foreshadowing in it for the actual AU. Pick up on that and you get a cookie 🍪 lol.

The first (offical) part of our AU should be coming either today or at some point next week. We're gonna create a masterpost so y'all can read the fics in the order they actually happen in and not our crazy upload schedule (whenever we feel like it).

Send in Asks if you have any questions, or if you just wanna talk about the AU.

Thanks for reading! (We will be making a tag list, so if you wanna be on that, just say)

#felix is just very good at stealing ok?#felix graham de vanily #felix agreste #miraculous felix #bat!felix au #seriously ask us about the bat felix au #oneshot #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanworks #bat miraculous #bat kwami #Kali the Kwami #Darcelan Chance AU

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue iii.

after hours

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is surprised.

Note: Fic daddy here. Please tell me to stop calling myself that. I’m here, writing this still and this part is 🔥🔥🔥 I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

Sunday morning. You woke up in a foreign bed with a foreign feeling of someone laying next to you. Steve's hand was on the blanket along your stomach.

You barely remembered falling asleep. He was too tipsy to drive and didn't trust your own state on the subway. So you relented and stayed, only too eager to sleep. Now you wished you'd left as you peeked over at him.

He laid on his side, his arm stretched across you. He was peaceful. He looked older. Well, he acted younger than he was. You rubbed your forehead and slipped out from beneath the covers.

You grabbed the white robe hanging from the closet door and wrapped it around yourself. You went to the floor length windows that overlooked the city and stared out at the early morning traffic. You yawned and lost yourself in the distant lights and muffled cacophony of the streets.

You sensed movement behind you. You didn't look back as you focused on the colours and people below. What were you doing? Why had you done it again?

You just couldn't help yourself. He had this power over you. The ability to pull your guiltiest urges to the surface. To make you forget all qualms and surrender entirely.

"Coffee?" His voice was still thick with sleep. "There's a machine here."

"No, I think I'll get one on my way out. I gotta study. I've got my first midterm this week." You turned slowly to him as he neared. Naked.

"You got your bag. You can study here." He coaxed as he pulled you into his arms. "I have some running around to do so I won't bother you...until I get back."

"Thanks, but I can't." You ran your hand along his chest.

"Fine," He shrugged, "Will you at least leave me with a little something to distract me?"

Your brows knitted as you considered him. He was insatiable. "Again?"

"It's a new day," His hand dipped down and squeezed your ass. "Let’s end the weekend on a high note."

You sighed and brought your arms up along his shoulders. "I suppose you've got a point."

Monday you had class until one and then the workshop at three. You expected it to last a couple hours and you’d be ready to settle down and study until you fell asleep. A full day to start a full week.

Wednesday was your midterm and you spent every empty minute going over your notes, even at the expense of your other classes. Next week, you’d deal with those as you crammed for three exams in as many days.

Your morning classes were slow. The first lecturer was a small old lady who refused to use a mic so every student hunched over their desk to hear her. Your second was a younger man, a new hire all too eager to enrich the minds of those only a few years behind him. You diligently recorded your notes and ignored the buzzing of your bag. Steve was as relentless in text as he was in person.

In the hours between, you grabbed lunch and checked your messages. Kylie wanted a study night as she crammed for the exam she’d forgotten about and Steve wanted what he wanted. You told both you’d see what happened. Neither was happy. The Rogers’ were rapacious.

You were early to the workshop as you were early to everything. The door was open and you peeked inside to find only Professor Barnes inside. He was fiddling with the projector remote and you shyly stepped inside. Since your night of beer with the two older men and you little conversation with Steve, your nerves had grown more frantic when thinking of him.

“Um, hey,” You alerted him to your presence as you entered. “Looks like I’m early.”

“Or just in time,” He flipped the projector on and tossed aside the remote. “You wanna help set up?”

“Um, sure.” You set your bag down along the front table and crossed to him. “What can I do.”

“Just have some packets that need to be distributed. We have about twenty people. You can space ‘em out.” He pulled out a stack and dropped it on the table along the front. “Oh, and another favour…”

“Yeah,” You looked up at him as you pulled the pile over to you.

“Don’t mention our little beer night to anyone.” He lowered his voice. “I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“Oh, of course,” You agreed with a nervous chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Thanks,” He smiled and turned back to dig around in his bag.

You went along the tables and doled out the packets. You glanced over at the professor now and then and wondered. Had Steve been wrong? He surely didn’t want to fuck you. Steve just liked to flatter you. He was good at that. Liked to tease you over your stupid little crush. You shook your head as you came to the end of the stack and kept the last for yourself.

You sat beside your bag and tapped your fingers on your desk. You picked at the corner of the front page and Bucky cleared his throat. Professor Barnes, you corrected yourself as you looked up. He neared the other side of your table.

“You have class after this?” He asked.

“Nope, only studying for my demise,” You answered.

“Hmm,” He nodded. “Would you be open to discussing your last paper then? Only fifteen minutes or so but I thought you’d rather that than stay behind on Friday.”

“My paper?” Your voice quavered without your consent.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” He assured you. “Don’t worry so much. So, does that work for you?”

“Sure, yeah,” You shrugged. “I haven’t got anything else to keep me.”

“Great,” He smiled and backed away.

He glanced up as voices echoed down the hall and grew nearer. Other students began to trickle in and you pulled out your phone. You sent the same message to Steve and Kylie. ‘Appointment tonight. Dunno when done. Sorry.’

The workshop went relatively quick. Barnes reviewed the schedule and the basics of journalism and publishing. The ten-week program would include visits to magazines and editors all over the city and culminate in the chance to have an article published by one. It was exciting and you wondered what kind of strings the professor had to pull to set it all up.

When he dismissed the class, chairs scraped and voices filled the silence quickly. You packed up and checked your phone. Kylie had sent a sad face and Steve was much less affected; ‘no problem ;)’. As you slipped your phone away, Barnes looked up from his bag.

“Hey, you didn’t forget already, did you?” He kidded.

“Of course not,” You grabbed your jacket and bag. “Just in here?”

“Nah, there’s a class coming soon, we’ll have to head to my office but it’s just a few floors up.” He hooked his bag over his shoulder and waited at the end of your table. “Elevator’s under service right now though. You’ll get a decent work out in.”

You giggled and followed him out of the room. You hated how dumb you sounded when he was around. How you must have seemed like some little girl. You weren’t, not anymore. The summer had made you a woman and you were tired of being treated otherwise.

When you reached his office, you were out of breath. You needed to start walking as much as you read. He unlocked the door and ushered you inside with a wave of his arm. You entered first and were surprised when he closed the door behind him. Most professors made a point of leaving their offices open.

“I don’t wanna keep you all night,” He put his bag on his desk and threw the flap open. “We’ll just go over a few things.”

He sifted through the papers within and pulled out a stapled bunch. You neared the chair opposite his desk and set down your bag and jacket. he was beside you before you could sit.

“I’ve underlined all the errors, as few as they were. Comments in the margin.” He handed you your paper. “Again, minimal, but helpful. We learn something new every day.”

“Uh, yeah,” You took it and thumbed through it. “Thanks.”

“You make all the corrections and it’s perfect.” He praised. “Ready for submission.”

“Submission?” You turned and looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a contest in Media Scope Journal. I think you’ve got a good chance of winning and I’d hate for you to miss the opportunity.” He explained. “A second year, published in a scholarly journal is a hell of a thing to have on your CV.”

“You--you really think I could get in?” You marveled up at him. “I--” You looked down and let the title page fall flat. “Thanks. I’ll make the changes and get it back to you.”

“Great,” He patted your arm but his hand lingered. “You’re a smart girl. You could go very far.”

You looked at his hand and then up at him. His blue eyes gleamed and his silver-laced beard defined the natural angles of his jaw. You smiled back at him and your cheeks burned. He squeezed your arm and slowly his fingers brushed along your sleeve.

Without a second thought, you stood on your toes and pecked his lips. The tickle of his beard and the smoothness of his lips broke you from your trance at once. You backed away and slapped your hand over your mouth as the paper threatened to slip from your grasp. He blinked but was calm as ever.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You pressed your palm to your hot cheek. “I didn’t--I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have--” You turned and grabbed your bag and shoved the paper inside. “I should just go work on this.”

“Wait,” He followed closely, his hand planted on the back of the chair to block you as you turned to flee. “You don’t have to. It’s...okay.”

“It’s really not,” You cringed. “That was so--so--”

“Right.” He finished for you. “Don’t you feel it? This thing between us.”

You stared back at him stunned. Did you knock your head and pass out? What was going on?

“It’s wrong,” You insisted. “You’re my professor.”

“So,” He countered. “It shouldn’t matter. I mean, I’ve never...with a student. Never felt like this but…”

“Professor--”

“Bucky,” He corrected breathily, his hand on your shoulder again. “Call me Bucky.”

“I...I...I…” You stuttered.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” His hand came up to cradle your face. “You’re young. You have the whole world ahead of you. What’s one little lapse.”

You searched his face. His finely lined eyes, his cheekbones still perfectly chiseled, his soft lips just beneath his thick beard. He was a handsome man, despite his age. The time only seemed to have complemented his looks. He leaned in and all your reticence slipped away. As his lips met yours, the tension snapped and you were swept up in the rush. You dropped your bag and jacket to the floor.

He turned you and pushed you against the desk so that you were caught between him and the wood. He was strong but gentle, his hand tickled your neck as he kissed you deeply. He was fervent, determined, as if he has been thinking of this as long as you had.

His hands traveled along your arms and gripped your hips. They slipped around and he lifted you onto the edge of the desk as he slouched to keep his lips on yours. He pulled at the hem of your knit sweater as he pushed between your knees.

You raised your arms as he parted to pull the sweater over your head. Your wore the same grey bra beneath and his eyes flared along the top of your breasts. He cupped one and bent to bury his face in your chest.

His beard tickled and you giggled. His teeth surprised you as he nibbled the flesh and you exclaimed. He was rougher than Steve, his touch as decisive but without the same tenderness. Bucky didn't think of you as a girl, you realized, liked Steve did. He treated you like a woman.

His fingers unhooked the button of your fly and pushed the zipper down. He slipped below your panties and you spread your legs wider. You welcomed him as he played with your clit, his lips inch back up you neck and to your mouth.

He rubbed your bud as your breath caught and you pulled away to gasp. He kissed your neck and teased your skin with his teeth as he continued to toy with you. You grinded against his hand and his fingers slid back to your entrance.

He pushed two fingers inside and you moaned in surprised delight. You never expected him to be like this. Straight to the point. He pressed his palm to your clit and curled his fingers. His hand moved steadily and he raised his head to watch your face contort in pleasure.

You pouted and rasped as your nerves started to buzz. His other hand grasped the back of your head as his blue eyes bore into yours. Don't look away. You were ready to burst as you clasped his shoulder and your other hand squeezed his bicep.

"Come on," He bent and whispered in your ear. "Let it go."

The orgasm tore through you like a storm and left your wits scattered. He eased you down from your peak and slowly removed his hand. He held up his glossy finger and licked them. The sight inflamed you.

"Get down." He ran his hand along your thigh. "Turn around."

You stood shakily and obeyed. When your back was to him, he took your hands and placed them flat to the desk. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back so you were slightly bent over.

He tugged your jeans and panties past your ass and the cool air tickled your pussy. He grabbed your ass and squeezed. Then slapped it so hard you squealed. He gave a dark chuckle and drew his hands away. You heard his belt, then his zipper. Your lashes fluttered and you peeked over your shoulder.

He spanked you again. “I didn’t say you could look.”

You bit your lip and faced the wall. A small window behind his chair looked out onto campus below. You had a sudden sense of deja vu. He stepped closer and his cocked poked your ass. He purred as he pressed himself to your back and his hand fiddled around between you. He guided himself to your entrance and pushed inside.

He was thick and stretched your as he got deeper and deeper. Your nails dug into the wood of his desk and he reached around to cover them with his own. He bottomed out and nibbled your ear with a growl.

“Fuck.” He swore and squeezed your hand as his other floated up to your chest. He pushed your bra up and tweaked your nipple. He kneaded your tit and gave a long slow thrust. “You want more? Ask.”

Your tongue slipped out between your lips and you groaned. You pushed back into him and wiggled your ass.

“Ask,” He pinched your nipple again.

“More, please?”

“Please?” He repeated and nuzzled your neck.

“Please, Professor Barnes.”

He snarled and slammed into you. The buttons of his shirt rubbed against you and caught on your bra. You were on tip toes as he crashed into you again and again. You whined as the reverberations rippled through you. Your thighs and back tingled with the mounting pleasure. Steve was firm but never this harsh. Never this savage.

Your hips hit the edge of the desk each time he rocked his hips. Your hands slid across the wood and messed the papers and pens atop his desk. He pounded into you until you were bent over it entirely. His hands went to your shoulders and he pinned you down.

He never wavered. His grunts and groans filled you with pure heat. You gripped the far edge of the desk and panted into the wood. You exclaimed as you came again. This time it was even more intense. Your feet were off the floor as he rutted against you.

He grabbed your hips and fucked you harder. His thrusts grew erratic as his breathing got louder. He pulled out of you all once and growled. You felt warm ribbons spill along your left thigh as he came. His fingers spread across your ass as his other hand stroked him through his climax.

When he was done, he tapped your ass and backed away. You trembled as you pushed yourself up and looked between your legs. His cum was all over your panties. You turned to him as he tucked his cock away. You would’ve been embarrassed if the haze of lust hadn’t blinded you.

“Just take ‘em off,” He said as he smirked at your dirtied panties. “Or keep ‘em on...that’d be kinda hot.”

You glanced up at him in shock. The eloquent professor, the disciplined scholar, was as lewd as any fratboy. You shoved your pants down and swiftly untangled your panties. You pulled your jeans back up and buttoned your fly. You frowned at the wet fabric. You folded them carefully so that the mess was hidden.

“I...should go.” You took your bag and buried your panties at the bottom. You grabbed your sweater from the floor and stood. “Study.”

“Sure,” He neared and his hand traced the curve of your waist. “I need those changes by Thursday. Can you do that, baby?”

You blanched at the nickname. It sent a thrill through you and yet it sent you into a spin. You had fucked your professor. In his fucking office. And he just happened to be buddy buddy with your best friend’s dad. Who you had also fucked.

“Of course,” You smiled and he brought both his hands up to cradle your face.

“Good girl.” He kissed you hungrily, his tongue pushed inside and he didn’t stop until you were breathless. “Go. Study.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “I’ll see you around.”

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