#gotta keep those sunken ass eyes though i love them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

growing pains

Fandom: Boku no hero academia

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

5 times the Bakusquad tells Bakugou they love him + the one time he says it back

(AO3)

Ashido is many things. Book smart isn’t one of them.

No really, she’s got so much going for her with her dancing, her strength, her versatile quirk, her perky attitude and even her distinctive appearance, but she’s not one for the books. She doesn’t like them, and they clearly don’t like her back.

Her grades thoroughly reflect this hate-hate relationship.

Ashido tries though, she really does- even if it’s just cramming a few days before the exams, she tries to study. Yao-momo had even gone out of her way to help, but it just doesn’t do the trick. She knows she needs to get her act together and figure this out because she can’t be a hero with a failing grade, and the anxiety and fear starts taking its toll, leaving her restless and upset.

So, when Bakugou sees the pink-haired, pink-skinned pain-in-the ass sulking in the common room, he’s horrified by the words that leave his mouth-

‘Want my help?’

Ashido doesn’t even glance at him at first, choosing to stare at the wall forlornly. She slowly looks up to catch his eye, looks around, realizes that they’re all alone, snaps her eyes back to his and her jaw drops.

‘Me?’ She points a finger at herself. ‘You’ll tutor me?’

‘What did I just say dumbass?’

‘I just- BAKUBRO, THANK YOU!’

‘Shut the fuck up and get your shit. We’ve got our work cut out for us. And raccoon eyes?’

Ashido turns to look at him, eyes bright and shiny.

‘Tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass.’

Ashido beams. ‘It’ll be our little secret!’

To her credit, he sees her try. She’s distracted and constantly jumping up and down, too jittery to be in one place, but she also pushes herself to focus, to really absorb the material. Bakugou’s rough with her, the way he is with Kirishima, but he’s generous with the praise too, or as generous as he’s capable of being. It makes him feel all kinds of gross, disgustingly soft and gooey things when Ashido’s eyes go warm with pride when he pays her the smallest compliment.

They work hard for the two weeks leading up to the exams. Kirishima joins them for every session in addition to the stuff he does with Bakugou separately, and between the three of them, they manage to cover most of the syllabus quite thoroughly.

The day before the exam, Bakugou sees the nerves rolling off Ashido.

‘Oye!’

She flinches and turns to look at him, throwing him a sheepish smile. ‘Yes, Blasty?’

He bristles at the nickname but recognizes that there’s no malice, no intention to mock, nothing really- just a nickname meant for a friend. She isn’t provoking him- she’s just nervous and falling back on old, comfortable habits.

He grunts, ‘You nervous?’

Ashido chuckles. ‘Course I am! Don’t wanna let you down, you know?’

Bakugou smacks her lightly on the head with a roll of practice sheets.

‘Who do you think tutored you? Don’t underestimate our sessions. Get in there and fucking obliterate those stupid tests.’

Ashido’s smile grows more confident, and she gives him a huge thumbs up, bumps hips with Kirishima and jogs over to her seat. The bell rings, and the exams begin.

The tests are not bad. Bakugou notes that a good majority of the papers contain material that he’s covered with the two properly, and works his way through the problems, the equations, the literature, all of it. In the very back of his mind, in a place he barely refuses to acknowledge, he hopes that they’re doing ok.

A week after their final exams, Bakugou is walking back from the training centre when he sees a ball of pink approaching him at an alarming speed.

‘BAKUBRO!’ Mina hollers, arms raised over her head as she outright sprints at him.

Bakugou furrows his brow, chest expanding as he gets ready to yell at her when she interrupts him-

‘I passed EVERYTHING!’ Her smile is humungous, wide and warm and genuine to its core. ‘AND I ACTUALLY DID WELL!’

Bakugou doesn’t even realize he’s smiling back, that feral, triumphant grin he has when he beats someone during training or takes down a villain. He’s proud of himself, and he realizes, with a surprising amount of acceptance, that he’s proud of her too. Really damn proud.

He’s a bit slow to realize that she hasn’t stopped barreling towards him though.

‘RACCOON EYES, DON’T YOU DA-‘

Ashido collides right into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Bakugou curses the entire way, but Ashido out-laughs him, her body shaking with joy.

‘Thank you!’ She beams down at him, pulling him into a warm hug. ‘You have no idea what this means to me.’

Bakugou wants to push her off, wants to stand up, spew out some curses and stomp away, back to his room.

But he’s also proud. He’s also happy for her. He’s also glad she did ok. That she worked hard and was determined to make him proud and that she isn’t going to get held back or expelled or something.

So, he blames it on the summer heat when he not only doesn’t push her off but rests a hand on her shoulder, gives her a quick pat, counts to 10 and THEN shoves her away.

Ashido pulls off easily enough, still laughing. She bounces back to her feet, dusts off her track pants and offers him her hand. The blonde looks at it, huffs, and takes it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Ashido yanks him to his feet with a strong, firm grip and her eyes go soft and warm and radiant.

‘Thanks again, Bakugou.’

‘Tch, whatever. Fuck off.’

Ashido giggles. Her phone suddenly starts ringing and she pulls it out of her pant pocket.

‘Oh, it’s my parents, I gotta take this!’ She starts walking back to the dorms. ‘Let’s go out this weekend, get some food at the mall. My treat!’

‘I don’t want to fucking do-‘

‘Bye babe. Love you!’ And with that, she’s gone, her laugh echoing around the courtyard.

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

---

Bakugou knows for a fact that Sero is 90% memes and 10% tape.

He has no scientific evidence to back up this claim of course, but he’s definitely right.

The thing about Sero is that the longer you spend time around him, the more you can appreciate his stupid sense of humour, his great taste in mangas, and his ability to make the people around him smile.

Bakugou hates him completely, or so he tells himself. There’s no scientific evidence to prove on the contrary either, thank god.

So, with his shitty sense of humour and his easy-going nature, it’s natural to find Sero with a smile on his face. Not the kind of sunshine happiness that Kirishima has, but more of a mellow, easy joy. His body language exudes a relaxed vibe, immediately making the people around him lower their guard, and he shares a love for healthy food with Bakugou, earning him the blonde’s begrudging respect.

Bakugou finds the tape hero sitting at the kitchen island on a Tuesday night. It’s past Bakguou’s bedtime, but he’s hungry enough to warrant a midnight snack, though he’s not expecting any company. Turns out, neither is Sero.

‘Oh, hey.’

Immediately, Bakugou’s shackles are up. Because Sero isn’t smiling. He isn’t teasing him, there’s no humorous lilt in his voice, no mischievous glint in his eyes, nothing. He’s hollow almost, his skin pale and his eyes sunken in. Even his breathing seems off, too fast and too shallow all at once.

‘What are you doing up?’ Bakugou asks, quirking a brow.

‘Could ask you the same.’

Sero is barely looking at him. He has his phone in a vice-grip, and he looks like he’s going to throw up.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

Sero jolts at that, eyes darting all across the room, and he can’t seem to look at Bakugou. Can’t seem to sit still or calm down. Bakugou can taste his anxiety, and it’s making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He feels protectiveness - strong and vicious and ridiculously overpowering - all the way in his toes.

‘Nothing, ha, I’m fine.’

‘Tapeface, I’m not fucking blind. If you don’t want to fucking talk about it, fine. Just don’t lie to my face.’

Sero finally looks at him, and he looks lost and scared and helpless. Bakugou’s never seen him like this, and the protectiveness surges.

‘I- I didn’t expect anyone to be awake. I’m not sure, you know, how to talk about it. I don’t even know what to do.’

Bakugou grunts to show him he’s listening before turning around and slowly pulling things out of the fridge. He remembers Sero’s love for fruits and soy and all things healthy and decides to make some Mapo Tofu. Not because Sero will like it or anything, the blonde just really likes Mapo Tofu, ok?

Bakugou begins the task of pulling pots and pans out of the cabinets and gets to prepping the ingredients. He keeps himself busy and fills the space with the comforting sounds and smells of food because he is an expert at being unable to talk about his feelings. To articulate his thoughts sans anger and rage and panic. And he finds that it's easier, even if only a little, to talk when the focus isn’t just on you. When there’s stuff going on, when there are other focal points. It’s less scary.

‘My mom is getting surgery.’

Bakugou pauses in his movements. He stays still long enough to indicate to Sero that he’s listening but goes back to work so the focus is still on the food, so Sero will continue to speak. His voice is uncharacteristically soft and so pained, and something in Bakugou churns horribly. He works more softly, so he can hear everything.

‘She’s had medical issues all my life, so it’s nothing unexpected. She gets surgery pretty often, but it’s never any less scary.’

Bakugou can’t even imagine what that’s like, to have a parent regularly undergo medical treatment and surgical procedures.

‘It’s the first one since I got to the dorms. I’ve never been this far away, and I can’t-‘ Sero’s voice chokes. He breathes deeply and continues ‘-I can’t calm down. I begged them to let me come home but they refused, said I need to see this UA thing through, do my own thing, all that.’

Bakugou continues to cook. The kitchen smells warm and spicy, and the sound of sizzling spices saturates the space between them, and he thinks he can sense Sero calm down a little.

‘I get it. I do. They're right and logically, I can accept that. I just. Fuck, this is horrible.’

Bakugou doesn’t offer any words of comfort or advice because what does he know? He has no idea what Sero is going through, and anything he says might sound insincere or plain insensitive. So instead, he cooks. He cooks the meat, mixes in the spices, and tastes the broth. He works fast and efficient, his movements practised. When it’s done, he plates up two bowls, and sets one in front of Sero, taking the seat next to him. Sero’s at the head of the table, so Bakugou ends up on his right.

Sero stares at the bowl and then looks up at Bakugou.

‘Mom makes me Mapo Tofu when I’m upset,’ he grumbles by way of an explanation. The blonde proceeds to douse his serving in extra chilli oil and peppercorns because he made the overall dish at a much more tolerable spice level. NOT for Sero or anything, just because. You know. For the fuck of it.

Sero stares at the bowl of food silently before picking up the spoon.

‘I haven’t told the rest because I couldn’t find a way to talk about it.’

Before Bakugou can figure out a way to respond to that, Sero continues, ‘I’m glad you know, is not so bad to have someone to talk to. Or at, I guess.’

Sero digs in, and after the first bite, his eyes light up.

‘Holy fuck,’ he breathes, ‘this is so good.’

Bakugou smirks, digging into his own bowl and humming in agreement. It’s probably the best Tofu he’s made so far.

‘Shit man,’ Sero says in between big bites, ‘I freaking love this. And you. But mostly this. But also, you. Like 65-35? Maybe 60-40.’

The blonde snorts and Sero’s grin gets wider. They eat in relative silence, with the occasional comment from Sero and the sounds of them kicking each other playfully under the table. When they’re done, Bakugou rinses the bowls in the sink and joins Sero on the couch in front of the TV. It’s gotten ridiculously late, but he doesn’t want to leave him alone.

Sero rubs the back of his neck. ‘I uh, I don’t want to go to my room right now.’

Bakugou leans over the couch, grabs two throw blankets from a bin nearby and flings the yellow one at Sero.

‘Play that cool documentary on speedcubing,’ he barks out, tucking himself under his own red blanket. Sero gives him a wide-eyed look before navigating to the right piece on Netflix. He gets comfortable under the throw, and they fall asleep to the sound of people solving Rubix cubes at inhumane speeds.

Shoji finds them like that in the morning and gently shakes them awake. Sero’s phone has a message from his parents, telling him everything’s alright, and that’s the only reason Bakugou forgives him for gathering the blonde in a big, warm hug before the sun is even up.

He crawls into his own bed 5 minutes later, and his heart feels lighter than ever.

Maybe an antacid will help with all of these stupid, horrid feels.

---

Bakugou doesn’t like people.

As a general rule of thumb, he dislikes them almost instantly. People are loud. They’re invasive, annoying, clingy, and they never smell good.

People are also cruel and selfish and use you as they please.

Bakugou doesn’t like people; until he comes to UA.

Because the people in UA are loud, invasive, annoying, clingy, and never smell great either.

But they’re kind. They’re smart, driven, capable, funny. They work hard, they play hard, and they’re mostly selfless. They don’t flock to him simply because he’s got a great quirk or something. Truth be told, they’re all pretty formidable themselves. Grossly underdeveloped and years away from being at his level, but Bakugou knows that with time, all of his classmates will reach insane heights. They wouldn’t be in UA otherwise.

So Bakugou tries. Mostly because his stupid squad won’t leave him alone, but he tries.

When people hang out in the common rooms, he’s downstairs with them. If there’s a stupid Christmas party, or it's someone’s birthday, or the class wants to go out shopping or to play in the pool, Bakugou tags along with them more often than not.

There is a compromise though. With a social battery as small and easily drained as his, it isn’t uncommon for the class to find Bakugou chilling in a corner with his headphones in, simply taking in the vibe rather than actively participating. There’s no bad blood over this though- they kinda get it. Not everyone is as friendly or as vibrant as Kirishima or Kaminari. They’re honestly just glad he’s there at all, so they do their best to make sure he’s included while letting him set his own pace.

Bakugou’s in one of his recharging phases when he spots Jirou.

The earphone jack hero is wandering around, looking a little worse for wear. There are people from both 1A and 1B milling around, talking and laughing in the common areas, and the energy in the room is almost stifling. The blonde doesn’t miss the way Jirou covers her ears at one point.

From what he can tell, Jirou is an ambivert. She enjoys the company of others often, but she’s also perfectly fine being on her own, with a book and some music to keep her company. Right now, she seems exhausted, her own social battery running dangerously low.

Bakugou catches her eye. She gives him a small wave and he sticks his tongue out at her, pulling the skin under his eye down on one side. It’s petty and dumb, but he sees her huff a laugh and slowly meander towards him. Bakugou goes back to closing his eyes and tipping his head back, enjoying the familiar texture of the common room couch and the sound of the music in his ears drowning out everything else.

He feels the couch dip next to him, close but not too close. Jirou doesn’t touch him, doesn’t bother him, doesn’t shake or poke or otherwise engage him. She just sits there, stock-still.

When his eyes slip open again, Bakugou sees that she’s got her hands in her lap and she’s mimicking his posture, comfortably seated on the couch with her head tipped back. Her signature headphones are nowhere in sight though, and her eyes are open and red.

Distantly, Bakugou wonders if she’s forgotten them. That would suck ass- he’d be lost without his own pair. And Jirou’s relationship with music is on a level no one else can fathom- it’s literally part of her DNA, her quirk, her identity.

Bakugou isn’t sure what compels him to do it- maybe it’s because they both like bugging the hell out of Kaminari. Maybe it’s because Jirou is no-nonsense when it comes to hero work, which he can respect. Maybe it’s because, beneath all the teasing and smart-ass comments, Jirou has often looked out for him, advocating for the need for personal space when the idiot brigade drains him.

Whatever the reason, Bakugou finds himself pulling out his right earbud and holding it out for her, a silent invitation.

It takes maybe 4 seconds for him to feel the bud lifted gently from his fingers. Jirou is careful to not jar his own earbud when she adjusts his in her right ear, and Bakugou moves to raise the volume a little.

It is a bit annoying, yes, to have one ear open to the noise around them, but it’s not unbearable- far from it. He’s got some reggae on right now, a genre he indulges in when he needs to calm down and just relax his body.

When he turns to look at her, Jirou’s got a smile on her lips. Her feet are tapping to the beat effortlessly, and her fingers are mapping out the tune on an invisible fretboard. She opens her eyes and looks over at Bakugou, and her smile widens, crinkling the edges of her eyes.

Thank you, she mouths, flashing him another blinding smile. It makes Bakugou huff.

‘Whatever,’ he murmurs under his breath. The look in her eyes could not be mistaken for anything else- unadulterated gratitude and a heavy dose of love.

These gooey feelings are going to give him an upset stomach, Bakugou’s calling it right now.

---

Bakugou doesn’t even notice the pattern till Kirishima points it out to him.

It goes a little something like this- Bakugou feels off during training, or maybe doesn’t do as well as he’d expected on a test or project, or something just doesn’t go right. So naturally, he’s in a piss poor mood.

The squad’s antics don’t do much for him then, doesn’t really raise his spirits or anything, and he usually goes back to his room, slamming his door shut and pacing around like a caged tiger.

And that’s when his phone rings. The caller ID reads Pikachu.

‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘Bakubrooooooooo,’ Kaminari croons, and Bakugou wants to break something.

‘Fuck of-‘

‘You ever wonder if cereal is soup?’

All the fight drains out of Bakugou, leaving only confusion in its place. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, I mean, is cereal like a sub-category of soup or something? Wouldn’t that make sense?’

‘Dunce-face, what the fuck? That doesn’t even make sense? You don’t cook cereal?’

‘Yes, but you could eat it with a soup spoon. That should count for something.’

‘I hate you. So much.’

‘Aww, love you too bro. Ok, gotta go, byee~’

Bakugou stares at his phone, shocked and confused and annoyed.

But no longer angry. No longer pacing about, no longer in a foul mood.

Another time, after a particularly bad bout of training, ending with aching forearms and snarls of frustration because he needs to get better but it’s not happening fast enough, Bakugou wants nothing more than to scream into a pillow and maybe eat some hot sauce.

Again, he gets a call from Kaminari.

‘Wha-‘

‘Do you ever just think about pizza and cry?’

‘Huh?’

‘Yeah, I mean, I think humanity reached its peak when it invented pizza, you know? And that makes me cry. Such perfection.’ He can picture Kaminari making a chef’s kiss gesture, and it pisses him off.

‘This is why you called me? Are you fucking with me?’

‘It’s really an honest question Bakubro. Don’t you ever tremble at the sheer magnificence of pizza?’

‘Delete my number.’

‘No can do. Gotta go, love you, bye!’

And again, he’s gone, just as quickly as he arrived. And again, Bakugou is left feeling baffled and miffed but no longer angry, no longer itching to scream and claw and break something.

He still eats some hot sauce though.

Kirishima is with him after one of his bad days, sitting on his bed and trying to pacify him.

‘It’s ok, it-‘

‘Shut up, Shitty hair! Fuck-‘ His hands tremble with the need to just do something, vent somehow, to break the tension in his spine. He doesn’t want to snap at Kirishima, which is why he never lets him tag along when he stomps away to his room after a bad day, but the redhead can be ridiculously caring sometimes and Bakugou doesn’t want to hurt him.

He doesn’t know what else to do though.

‘Shit, I- you need to leave, get out before I-‘

His phone rings. Pikachu, it says.

‘Dunce-‘

‘I’ve decided that, in the event of an apocalypse, you and I are teaming up together.’

‘Wha-‘

‘I know you’d much rather team up with Kirishima, cause he’s so strong and handsome and he’s your best friend, but he’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, will die immediately. So, it’s just you and me Blasty.’

‘Fuck right off, why would I-‘

‘We could name ourselves the atomic blondes.’ Kaminari suddenly makes a whooping noise. ‘Damn, that’s perfect Bakugou! I gotta print tee shirts right now, we’d look amazing.’

‘I am not wearing anything that matches you, miss me with that shit.’

‘I promise it’ll be black, and like, soft, with skull patterns or something.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘I gotta go anyway, but you’re stuck with me Bakubro. Anyway, bye, love you!’

They end the call, or rather, Kaminari cuts it before Bakugou can get an insult or two in there, and when he looks back at Kirishima, he sees a big, goofy smile on his face.

‘What?’ he grumbles, tossing his phone on his bed.

‘He does that often?’

‘What, call me and say really random, really stupid shit? Yeah, all the damn time. I need to block his ass.’

‘Kinda sweet though, huh?’

Bakugou cocks his head. ‘What’re you talking about? It’s a fucking pain.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t seem as mad anymore.’

‘I-‘ And yet again, Bakugou is disgruntled and confused and irritated at himself, for getting swept up by Kaminari’s pace, but he’s not angry. All the fight has mostly bled out of his limbs, and he feels more or less normal if only a little on edge. Nothing too difficult to deal with.

‘Son of a bitch,’ Bakugou breathes. Kirishima’s smile is a tad wider, and he scoots over on the bed, making some space for Bakugou while he pulls out his laptop, ready to load up some shitty videos.

‘Tell him about this and I will never speak to you again,’ Bakugou grumbles finally, settling in next to Kirishima, leaning most of his weight into the redhead.

He feels Kirishima’s chest rumble with laughter.

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Bakugou wonders if anyone’s ever tried to harness the power of feels to run turbines or some shit, because this stuff’s turning out to be overwhelmingly powerful.

---

In terms of quirk compatibility, Bakugou has found his perfect match in Kirishima.

The blonde’s quirk is perfect for offence. Granted, it’s exceptionally versatile and he can handle his own just fine, but with Kirishima, he feels invincible.

Red Riot is unmoving, unabashed, and utterly unbreakable. He knows Bakugou inside out, knows his moves, his tactics, his signals. They fight like a well-oiled machine, adjusting and improvising with ease. Fighting alongside Kirishima, alongside Red Riot, is like breathing. They almost dance around each other, and between taking down villains and conducting search and rescue, they’ve made themselves a formidable hero pair even before graduation.

So, it’s not uncommon for them to be paired up even when they’re working and interning under different heroes. They’re that good.

They’re on a mission together when things take a turn for the absolute worst.

Most of the pros are down, caught in the crossfire or too busy protecting the civilians to engage in combat. There are fires blazing everywhere, smoke congesting the air around them so much that Bakugou can barely breathe.

Riot stands next to him, breathing slightly laboured but otherwise unhurt. Bakugou has a cut on his forehead, blood running down his face, but he feels ok. Good enough to rush into battle and do his part in subduing these shitty villains.

But experience has taught him better than to run in with no plan, even when he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to rush into the action. Experience has taught him that without a moment to catch his breath and restructure the plan to achieve their goals, he’ll be doing a lot more harm than good. It’s frustrating as all hell, but he’s a hero in training. You learn this stuff on the job.

‘What do you think?’ He asks the redhead.

Kirishima straightens out his back, hands on his hips. ‘The elemental quirk user will probably be the biggest pain in the ass.’

Bakugou nods. ‘It seemed like a water quirk. We need to get her away from the buildings, away from the piping. There was also that shitty smoke user, he’s the reason the air is barely breathable.’

‘Yao-momo’s masks would’ve come so in handy right now,’ Kirishima muses with a smile.

Bakugou grunts in begrudging agreement but doesn’t comment further on it. ‘There should be three other villains, all with high-level quirks. I’m not sure which other pros will free up to help, but we have to isolate them, move them towards the construction site,’ Bakugou points somewhat East of their current location, ‘as per the plan.’

Kirishima nods in agreement and catches Bakugou’s eyes and the blonde’s breath hitches.

They don’t talk about it, but here’s the other thing- they’re probably going to get hurt, maybe even fatally. Not because they’re weak or they want to or anything, but the villains seem endless. They’re fucking strong too, and even with an army of heroes, the villains seem to come at them harder and faster the longer this battle goes on. Bakugou can feel his own stamina start to vain, and he knows Kirishima will hit his limit too, slower than the blonde but still. There will come a point when Kirishima’s skin won’t harden and Bakugou’s blasts will lower in intensity till all he can manage are sparks.

And even then, he knows they will fight with their fists and their bodies and their teeth. That’s what heroes do- they put everything on the line, for the people and for justice.

More often than not, they lose their lives for it.

Well, for what’s it worth, Bakugou could not have asked for a better partner by his side in such shitty, dire times. Kirishima’s soft smile seems to reflect his sentiments.

‘Hey, Katsuki?’

The hero code of conduct frowns upon the use of personal names in costume. You have a hero name for a reason, and it helps preserve your sense of anonymity and privacy, even if it’s pretty useless at its job.

For Kirishima to name him, and first name him at that, just goes to show how serious the situation is.

‘Yeah, Ei?’

‘Make me some hotpot when we get back, ok?’

Bakugou inhales deeply, coughs because of the stupid smoke, and his fists clench tight enough to leave crescent moons in his palms.

‘Only if I’m in the mood, Shitty Hair,’ Bakugou retorts, his voice far too soft for the King Explosion Murder hero. But that’s ok- here is only Eijirou, Katsuki, and the world burning around them. Soft is ok here.

Kirishima’s familiar belly-deep laughter gives him a boost of energy.

‘Let’s kick some ass.’

Bakugou feels, for one glorious moment, like he can take on the entire world.

They take their first few steps before Kirishima steps in front of him, blocking off his path. When he looks up to catch his eyes again, the blonde’s protests and insults die in his throat.

Kirishima’s gaze is trained on him as he slowly reaches forward and grabs Bakugou’s right forearm with his right hand, fingers digging into the muscle. It’s a firm, solid grip, reassuring and warm and so very familiar. His eyes are bright, bold, and wine-red. And they’re so full of love, brimming with the kind of affection, respect, and adoration that Bakugou never thought he’d be subjected to. Kirishima opens his mouth as if to say everything his body is already telling Bakugou.

‘I know,’ Bakugou interrupts, voice hoarse. Because he does know. The redhead is his best friend in the entire world, his person, his rock. ‘I know, Ei.’ His own fingers wrap around Kirishima’s wide forearm, gripping tight with calloused, too hot fingers.

Kirishima flashes him another soft smile past his headgear before letting go. He waits for Bakugou to catch up and they walk together, side by side, equals.

When they see the first villain, doing her best to uproot an entire building, Bakugou casts one last look at Kirishima, sees his positively feral smile, and charges with the force of a wild beast.

There are no feels there, just adrenaline, rage, and trust so thick, even concrete would crack under its weight.

---

When you’re training to be a hero, things can go wrong.

Accidents happen. People don’t move out of the way fast enough, or there’s a domino effect of some sort, or the aftershocks of one attack reaches a place it shouldn’t.

Bakugou’s switched up his training partner, choosing to train with Iida to fine-tune his aim and work with a fast-moving target. His blasts hit the mark sometimes, but not always. The gym is huge, so they aren’t really risking anyone with their training; at least, that’s how it is for a while.

But then, Bakugou takes aim and blasts at Iida, Iida dodges swiftly, the attack takes out a portion of the rock formations in the gym, and suddenly there’s a landslide headed right at Hagakure and Kaminari.

Bakugou doesn’t even think about it; his body moves before his brain catches up, and he’s suddenly in front of the two, arms raised to obliterate the debris when he realizes that a portion of the mountain had been laced with explosives for someone else’s training, and his quirk would make things exponentially worse. With the last few moments he has, Bakugou shoves Chargebolt and Invisible Girl away roughly and gets buried under the avalanche of debris.

The last thing he thinks he hears is a chorus of voices yelling Bakugou before his vision goes black.

---

And that’s what Bakugou remembers when he wakes up to white. White walls, white curtains, white sheets.

Unfortunately, the noise isn’t white. It’s annoyingly and stupidly loud.

‘There are too many of you here,’ Recovery girl says, sounding exasperated. ‘He will be fine, he just needs to regain his strength.’

‘Sensei, a whole section of a mountain fell on him, how can he just be fine?’ Jirou questions, sounding severely distressed.

‘Plus, this happened while he was saving me,’ Kaminari chips in. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

‘I have a secret healing quirk of my own,’ Ashido bullshits. ‘He’ll feel so much better when he hears my voice. I have to stay, it’ll be a crime for me to go.’

‘I can tape his wounds?’ Sero offers sheepishly.

He can hear Recovery Girl’s sigh from the other end of the room. ‘And you?’

‘He’s my person.’ Kirishima says it like it’s enough of an explanation.

Recovery Girl clicks her tongue. ‘Overdramatic, the lot of you. Play rock paper scissors or something, but I’m only allowing one of you to stay. The rest of you are going back to the dorms.’

The room bursts into noise again and Bakugou’s head feels like it’s splitting open.

‘HOLY FUCK, SHUT UP!’ The blonde roars from his bed. ‘I LOVE YOU GUYS, BUT IF YOU DON’T STOP YELLING, I WILL BODILY THROW YOU ALL OUT THE DAMN WINDOW.’

His own yelling does more harm than good to his throbbing head, but the noises stop completely so at least it did its job.

He’s alone for a blissful second before a crowd of five idiots surroundS his bed. Kirishima’s face peers into his, smile wide and eyes crinkled around the edges.

‘Hi, how you feeling?’

‘Like someone ran me through a garbage disposal and then put me in a microwave.’

‘Such details, much prose,’ Sero quips, earning him a chop from Ashido.

‘Blasty my love, can we do anything?’

‘Yeah, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.’

Jirou squeezes his calf from the foot of the bed. ‘You gave us a real scare there.’

‘I’m fine,’ Bakugou grumbles.

‘He will be,’ Recovery Girl reiterates, pushing them away and standing next to him. ‘I’ll do another bout of healing once you’ve recovered some of your strength. You can go back to the dorms before bed.’ She turns to his classmates. ‘Only one of you.’

They look at one another and everyone but Kirishima starts shuffling away reluctantly.

Kaminari lingers behind before quickly giving Bakugou a gentle hug. ‘Thanks,’ he whispers into his ear before pulling off and following after the others. Bakugou rolls his eyes and curls onto his side, yelping when he puts some weight on his tender side.

‘Easy,’ Kirishima mumbles, easing him onto his back. When Bakugou is finally comfortable, Kirishima drags one of the chairs lined up against the wall next to the bed and plops down, exhaling. Bakugou opens a tired eye to look at him and sees Kirishima with a stupidly smug smile on his face.

‘What?’

‘You love us, huh?’

Bakugou had hoped they hadn’t caught that, even though he’d screamed it loud enough for the entire building to have heard. Apparently, a cliff falling on you doesn’t stop you from blushing.

‘Fuck off, you were hearing things,’ he says anyway, because what is Bakugou if not in full denial about so many things?

Kirishima’s laugh is loving not mocking, and he puts his hand on Bakugou’s elbow.

‘Good to have you back Kats.’ He gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘Get some rest huh? I’ll be here when you wake up.’

Bakugou gives him a weak glare, but he can’t muster enough rage and anger because the absolute worst part is, he meant it. Because apparently being a rage-filled hero in training doesn’t make one impervious to feels.

Bakugou feels so betrayed by his own thoughts and emotions.

But right as he loses consciousness, he finds himself wondering if he minds all that much and he decides he doesn’t, almost not at all. The answer doesn’t really surprise him either.

He falls asleep to a cool breeze brushing over his skin and the sound of Kirishima humming under his breath.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

For the mermay fills: 10 & 22 with indruck? 👁️👁️ (nsfw or sfw)

I went with ten (tattoos/piercings) first, since 22 will be part of another fill. I went with NSFW, and wrote this as a follow-up to my “Heat” fill from last year.

Indrid swims up and down the hall outside the palace infirmary. He’s far from the only one doing so; the reef serpent wreaked havoc through the city before the Chosen mers defeated it. He’s not even the only person waiting to see if Duck is alright.

“Have courage, Prince Indrid Cold!” Minerva, sporting a new gash on her face, clamps her hand down on his shoulder in what he knows is her version of a comforting gesture, “Duck Newton is the strongest Chosen after myself. He will pull through.” The blue of her tentacles flashes with pride.

“Besides” Ned, the castle mer who has, against all odds, become Indrid’s closest advisor, flicks his orange and silver tail “you informed us yourself there were no futures where our friend passed away.”

“I know.” Indrid takes a breath, intending to explain the tangled net of anxiety in his chest. All that comes out is another, “I know.”

Behind him, he hears two nurses murmuring that they’d better bump the prince’s consort up in the line, but before he can turn and order them not to, they’re gone.

It happened like this: Duck kept his word, began courting Indrid properly once the seer's heat passed, and Indrid reciprocated without hesitation. This caused a near scandal; yes, Duck was a Chosen and thus noble to a degree, but Indrid was a prince, and a prized one. Indrid pointed out that he rather liked someone who cared about his welfare, not just his happiness, and if they had an issue with that, that was their problem not his. And so the comments about Duck moved from to his face to behind his back, which he counted as good enough.

Duck found the whole consort business stressful, given that he’d forgone his Chosen destiny in favor of tending the kelp forests specifically to avoid that kind of fanfare and politics. Thus, they steered clear of the castle when they could, spending their time with their friends in town or in the sunken ship Duck called home.

When the serpent attacked their town, Duck discovered the limits of his rejecting his destiny, and joined the fight to save his home. Indrid is proud of him, even if his stomach churns whenever the futures shift and he has to see whether the strings of fate weave a grimmer outcome for the man he loves.

It’s well after moonrise when he’s allowed to see Duck. The other mer is half-asleep in his infirmary bed, a massive bandage on his side and one of his tentacles bitten down to a nub

“Hey darlin” The sleepy drawl is accompanied by the mer opening his arms.

Indrid carefully settles against the non-bandaged side of him, rests his head on his chest with a relieved sigh, “I’m so glad you’re alright. Or, well, mostly alright. You’re in one piece. Sort of. I, I’m not conveying this well.”

“I ain’t dead, given how today went I’m callin that a win. Besides, this’ll grow back in no time.” He wiggles the stub of his tentacle.

“Mmm” Indrid cuddles closer, purring softly as intact tentacles pet his tail and back.

“When’d you last sleep?” Duck murmurs, kissing the top of his head.

“Not since the attack started.”

“Seems to me we’re both due for some shut eye.”

Indrid nods, right before falling asleep and dreaming of strong tentacles and stronger arms.

-----------------------------------------

“Guess I gotta get a tattoo now.” Duck studies the scar on his side, his bandages having permanently come off this morning.

“I suppose so. Though, if you’ve avoided so many other parts of Chosen protocol, I fail to see how skipping this one will make things worse.”

“I dunno, I kinda like this one. Used to strike me as macho bullshit, showin off how many battle scars you got. But now...makes me think of how when the forest gets trashed by a storm, or a huge-ass monster tearin through it, there’s a certain kind of pleasure that comes from watchin it heal, watchin it go from desolated and scarred to somethin beautiful.”

Indrid loves when he talks like this, smiles dreamily as Duck adds, “you could even design it for me. I’d like that.”

“I could do you one better; I could apply it as well. And since I foresee you asking yes, I do have the training to do so. Royal mers learn to tattoo themselves, due to rules about being touched by lower ranking mers that I judiciously ignored.”

“No kiddin” Duck grins, two tentacles coiling around Indrid’s tail, teasing the red stripe, “now that I’m healed up, gonna do all kinds of things to you to remind you why you ignored those rules in the first place.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you nervous?” Indrid finishes setting out his tools on the pristine table in his pristine chambers. He tends towards messiness in his habits, but when it comes to Duck’s health he’s cleaned the whole place by hand and with magic. Twice.

“Nah, I know I’m in good hands.” Even as he says this, a burst of anxious yellow moves up his tentacles.

“All the same, if you need a break at any point, let me know. And if the scar starts stinging or throbbing, tell me at once.”

“You got it, darlin.”

Indrid takes his time using a spell to transfer his design to Duck’s skin, double checking the placement before picking up the charm-powered tattoo gun. When finished, the tattoo will be a small forest of kelp, with the scar making up most of the body of the serpent swimming between the leaves. Six shades of green ink, three shades of brown, one shade of copper, and black for outlining, lay on the table, Indrid dipping into each of them in turn as he brings the image to life.

“Love watchin you draw” Duck sighs, then shudders, “sorry, gettin a hell of an adrenaline rush from the pain.”

“Just try to stay still. If you twitch or fidget too much, it will cause mistakes on my end.”

“Do my best.”

“If you don’t, I’ll just have to tie you down.” Indrid says breezily. The tentacle near him pulses purple. Desire. Interesting.

He’s most of the way through when Duck’s arms shake, his tentacles following suit, occasionally bumping Indrid’s tail or sides.. They’re small movements, all things considered, but in most futures they mean he has to re-do the entire last third of the tattoo.

“Nono, this won’t do at all.” He set’s the gun down, flitting across to the closet near his bed. A sea-grass rope waits, right where he left. There hasn’t been much call for it, Duck capable of restraining Indrid in a variety of ways all on his own.

“Now” Indrid bites off several lengths of rope, “since you cannot be still, I am going to tie your tentacles down. You’re to keep your hands where I put them, or I will tie them as well.”

Ducks tentacles are now deep, unflinching purple, “Holy fuck, ‘drid.”

“Just because I am generally submissive around you does not mean I’m not capable of giving orders.” Indrid smirks, tying the first two tentacles down.

“I, I know, it’s just you, uh, you, you never talk like this.” Duck’s eyes are wide, excited even, as they track Indrid’s circular path.

“I suppose you don’t hear me during advisory meetings, so this is a new experience for you.”

“Maybe I oughta start sittin in on ‘em.” Duck whines when Indrid kisses his cheek but refuses to stick around long enough for Duck to kiss him back.

“Perhaps. Right now, however, you are to sit still until I’m done with you. Understood?”

“Uh huh.” Duck smiles, docile and sweet, and Indrid wonders why they never thought to try this before.

He returns to his work, inking colors into Duck’s skin, enjoying the intimacy of learning the familiar curves of his ribs and belly in new ways. At one point he notices Duck tensing and almost moving his hand, but the other mer catches it in time.

“Good boy.” Indrid purrs.

“Fuck.” Duck tips his head back, “how much longer?”

“About ten minutes more, I’d say. You can manage it my sweet, you’re doing so well already.”

Duck whimpers low in his throat as Indrid goes back to his work. Exactly ten minutes later, he puts a protective covering atop the tattoo and pushes his supply table aside.

“There, all done. You did wonderfully.”

“Great, now untie me.” Duck wriggles hopefully.

Indrid raises an eyebrow, “In a hurry, sweet one?”

“Yes” Duck holds out a hand, trying to coax him closer.

“Whatever for?” He replies airly, as if can’t sense the arousal pouring off his boyfriend in waves, “and stop moving so much, you’ll aggravate the tattoo.”

“‘Drid please” The folds between his front-most tentacles ripple as his cock starts emerging.

“Oh I see.” Indrid swims so they’re face to face, pinning Duck’s hands to the back of the chair as he leans into his space, “you want me to fuck you, is that it? You’re willing to risk pain to new scar tissue, even marring my lovingly done work, just to have your cock played with?”

“Holyfuckinshit, why is this the first time you’re talkin like this?” Duck bites his lip with a little moan as Indrid rubs their cheeks together.

“I don’t know. In hindsight, it seems so obvious; you’re my powerful, competent mate, you always take such wonderful care of me, but you want someone to take away that power from time to time, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Duck tips his chin up, hoping for a kiss, but Indrid floats backwards out of reach,

“What shall we do about that, hmm?” He swims a slow, tight circle around the other mer, staying just out of arms reach, “shall I keep you bound until the urge passes? No, that’s far too cruel for my beloved. Perhaps I should make you see to it yourself? But no, you might accidentally hurt yourself. Hmmm, what to do, what to do….” He taps his chin as Duck growls and whines, tentacles now straining against their bonds. Indrid knows Duck could snap them easily if he needed or wanted to. Which means he wants to remain at Indrid’s mercy for the time being.

“You do look wonderful like this. I didn’t even plan it this way, but how I tied you shows off most of your assets.” Indrid rubs the upper front of his tail, “now you’re getting me all wound up.”

“Good” Duck growls, tentacles swirling purple and pink.

“Yes it, ahnnn, it is rather good, isn’t it. After all, I have the perfect solution to the situation sitting right in front of me.”

Duck’s cock is fully out, it and the slit beneath it tempting Indrid to abandon his plan. He swims in front of the other mer, eyeing his cock approvingly, “yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

“Thank fuckOHfummmhp” Duck’s surprised moan turns to a laugh as Indrid, having zipped upwards in a flash, finishes shoving his cock into Duck’s mouth.”

“Yesss, ohyes, goodness I love doing this, you look so charming with your lips around my cock. Ah, ah, don’t you dare move your hands from the chair. This” he gives a sharper thrust, “is all I need to be satisfied.”

Duck moans louder, which Indrid takes as his cue to hold his head in place and fuck into his mouth with abandon.

“That’s it love, that’s it, oh I ought to have done this months ago, tied my big strong hero down and reminded him of hisAHAnnn, his duties as consort.”

“‘M ot a ero.”

Indrid looks imperiously down his nose at him, “It’s rude to contradict someone when they’re giving you what you want, my sweet. I guess I’ll need to render you further incapable of speech” He concentrates and extends his cock, a mechanism meant to ensure he can reproduce with mers of any size or genital configuration but that he uses only to make Duck groan with pleasure.

His orgasm is already racing towards him, as it always does when Duck lets him (or orders him to) fuck his throat, and he shuts his eyes, concentrating on tight heat and the happy, muffled grunts floating up to his ears.

“Just a little, nnnn, little more my sweet, let your prince ravish your throat a little longerOH, ohgods, Duck, sweetheart, yes.” He cums, a shudder rippling down his tail, and doesn’t pull out until Duck struggles to swallow the rest down. The other mer is still collecting his breath when Indrid wiggles down and pushes his tongue into his slit.

“Fuck!” Duck jerks hard enough to move the chair an inch to the right.

Indrid snickers, wraps both hands around Duck’s cock, stroking it hurriedly as he raises his head, “What do you say, beloved?”

“Th-thank you?” Duck cracks an eye open. Indrid nods, then dips his head back down to to suck and tongue at the senstive skin.

“Fuckme, ohfuck, ‘Drid, darlin’, this is fuckin incredible, gonna, gonna be such a good consort, do whatever you say, fuck you five fuckin times a day, just, FUCK, just promise we can do this again.”

“Muv ourse.” Indrid thrusts his tongue deeper, twisting his hands on his upstrokes. The fourth time he does, he pops up to suck on the head just in time to catch Duck’s cum in his mouth. He takes his time, sucking him clean with happy trills and moans while his boyfriend utters curses that would make sailors blush.

He pulls away to wipe his mouth, intending to start untying Duck. The futures show that won’t be necessary,

Snapsnapsnapsnap

The ropes break in pairs, rapid fire, and then Duck is on him, enveloping him in arms, tentacles, and love. He tries to press closer, then winces back, “owfuck, you’re right, the tattoo is real sore.”

“It’ll be that way for a few days. Your Chosen strength will help, but you should still rest when possible.”

“I dunno” Duck kisses him sweetly, then nips his lower lip, “you know how stubborn I can be. Might have to uh, tie me to the bed.”

“That, my love, can be arranged.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #mermay

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luci-four · 4 years

Note

hello! would it be alright to request some mammon fluff? i read thru all your posts and im in love with your writing 💕

A/N: Thank you!! You didn’t give me anything really specific so I hope this is good enough for you ♥ thank you for being so patient!! ★

Hide N Seek. {Mammon x Reader/MC}

Mammon knew better.

Call him stupid, dumb, an idiot, a dumbass, a--

Too many, too many.

Call him what you want, but when it came down to the wire, Mammon was not unintelligent. He was creative, and smart in the street sort of sense—he could get by and there definitely were times where he let his knowledge shine.

Mammon new better, but he just couldn’t stop himself from pissing off Lucifer.

He didn’t even remember what he did this time. All that mattered was the heavy—frightening—presence of Lucifer’s anger, condensed to a very... vivid aura that suddenly filled the room. Before the second half of his name could pass by his brother’s lips, the second brother was on the run.

Bounding through hallways, skipping a stair or two at a time going up, jumping back down over the railing just to make his movements confusing; Mammon bolted. He was fast—he was pretty certain he wouldn’t get away from Lucifer, but ‘a man’s gotta try’, or so he told himself. If he could just get out of Lucifer’s line of sight just long enough to hide, he’d be golden! He’d strive for that, that was his favourite colour, after all. Taking several turns, ducking under furniture and hopping over others; Mammon had to bite his tongue and hold his smile until he was completely in the clear—but he was almost there! So close! If he could round the corner to the hallways fast enough, he’d be out of the line of sight to his impeding murder--

His saviour—yes! His MC! His sun! His light! His... cushion? His partner in crime? Whatever their title may have been now, he could hear their voice complaining to themselves; he slammed against them the second they stepped around the corner, covering their mouth to keep them silent. The both of them tumbled back into the small closet MC had left open when looking... for whatever it was they were looking for. Mammon didn’t know, and didn’t care. He pulled the door shut, held his finger to his lips to try and quiet MC’s muffled words, and grimaced hard when he heard his brother’s footstep pass by. He leaned his head against the door, listening as closely as he could for the fading sounds and sighed out of relief for a moment before it was cut off by a strangled cry.

“Y’owch!” he had to fight himself to stay quiet and pushed on MC’s forehead to try and pull his hand back, “Get your damn teeth out of me!”

“Stop suffocating me and I wouldn’t bite you!”

“Hey, shush it, will ya?” He hissed, “We’re tryin’ to stay hidden here!”

“You mean you’re trying to stay hidden!” MC emphasized their words with a particularly hard poke to Mammon’s chest, “Why was I dragged into your mess—again!”

“Not my fault you were right there!”

“Now I’m stuck in this small ass closet with you!”

“Yeah yeah, but please! Please be quiet!” he gave a hushed shout, “I’m beggin' ya!”

MC’s face screamed irritation. Mammon gave his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for them to help him out. After they sighed, they turned their head away from him, reluctantly agreeing though they were quick to give him a death glare when he tried to hug them. They both stood in silence for a while, Mammon growing more and more awkward by the minute. His eyes adjusted to the darkness he found himself in, and caught glimpses of MC while they paid no attention to the demon in front of them.

They were close—Mammon could feel it before ever needing to see it; the heat bouncing off of one another, the overall sense of closeness—chest to chest and face to face should they turn back toward him, he was going to die. His heart raced, his pulse knocking heavy in his veins and his breath growing ragged while his knees fought to keep him up; he was dying, that was it, he was dying and was kind of, maybe, sort of, afraid of Lucifer catching him—that's it! Nothing to do with MC...

Nothing to do with the sliver of light from the crack of the door and how it catches their eye and illuminates it like the stars. Nothing to do with how sweet and comforting they smelt. Nothing to do with the soft sound of their breathing or the curve of their face or--

No, nothing to do with them. He’s obviously just getting claustrophobic.

“So...” he started in his whisper, “come here often?”

“Do you want me to punch you right now?”

“Double dare ya.”

They clenched their fist and shifted to aim it towards his stomach before he quickly deflected them.

“Hey, knock it off will ya? I was just jokin’.”

“Oh, scared, are you?”

“Scared? No way!”

“Your body says otherwise.”

“My body is a temple and is as sturdy as ever!”

“Is that what we call it now?”

“Watch it!”

Mammon’s mind moved on its own, as did his mouth. Without realizing it, the awkward aura around him dissipated; he felt so calm and collected, he actually felt pretty confident—it had to be because he got away from Lucifer, of course—he could do anything, he could say anything. Despite MC’s teasing tone, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but tug up to a playful smirk; his tongue sharper than ever as he threw the teasing right back at them. The words that passed his lips brought such a delectable heat to their face, a pout to their lips, a huff to their breath and a slight lean towards him that he just couldn’t get enough of. The bold way they gave it right back to him, however, was enough to make him equally as heated; he shied away from them, angrily denied all allegations, turned his head and bit his lip the more they leaned against his chest and close to his face to eat up his reactions with a wicked smirk. What the hell were they doing to him?

“Back it up, will ya?”

“Where am I supposed to back up to!” they leaned even closer to his face, “You shoved us into a closet!”

Mammon grunted and attempted to lean away from them, only to catch a glimpse of the sliver of light in their eye once more. The way they looked at him seemed... questionable. Well, he was certainly questioning it. Their eyes seemed... unfocused, though they definitely were resting on something; their bottom lip had their teeth just barely sunken into it and he could just barely make out that their skin seemed flushed. They looked... soft, like they were waiting for something they really wanted but just couldn’t reach out and take themselves. They looked... they looked...

They looked like he did whenever they weren’t paying attention.

He didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was because he felt like he was looking into a mirror? Or maybe because this all felt like a dream? Whatever it was, Mammon was ecstatic! He could almost jump for joy! Cheer! He was so happy! He was nervous! He was scared! Wait, those emotions didn’t mix—or did they? The perfect blend of nerves and bliss danced around like butterflies in his stomach and drums in his heart; Mammon was almost ready to thank God for bringing the two of them together in this closet. Almost. Wait, why were they in here again?

It didn’t matter! Mammon didn’t care! With eyes as wide as the moon and a smile just as bright, he grabbed their hands and interlaced their fingers, getting a shot of confidence and the need to tease to help him get the words out of his mouth.

“So,” his eyebrows gave a little smug wiggle, “we gonna kiss, or what?”

MC’s eyes went wide as though they just snapped back to reality, giving him a bewildered look for a split second before such a sweet laugh bubbled out of them. They hunched over a moment, leaning their head on his chest and trying to catch their breath as their laugh only grew louder. Mammon couldn’t help but laugh too, moving their still intertwined hands to wipe the tears off their face with the back of their own hands.

“Well?”

Mammon’s body language screamed just one big ‘please’ that he knew MC could read—he didn’t care. The way they smiled back at him made his stomach flip, watching them slowly get closer to his face made it feel like his heart was leaping square out of his throat. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, excited and partially in disbelief.

“Will you calm down for a second?” MC laughed again, only to keep their smile and laugh once more as Mammon eagerly closed the gap between them.

Oh, he was ready to just die, then and there, in that closet with them.

It was everything—no, more—than he could have ever imagined. It was pure bliss; soft on MC’s end but a little rougher on his as he moved like an excited puppy. Feeling their smile against his lips only egged him on; a little desperate for more—and a little unmanly to whine a bit as he had, he was lucky his eyes were closed so he didn’t see the almost sinful look they shot him—he felt them move back for a moment to untangle their hands. Once their lips made their way back to his, they gently held his face where he instantly became putty.

His limbs felt heavy, and he just wanted to lean everything he had against MC—but in a way they’d never have to let their lips leave his. Was there such a way? Could he find it? The slight tease as they grazed their teeth over his bottom lip as they pulled away caused him to let out another (embarrassing) whine. Letting his head fall heavy into their hands, he simmered in the moment a while longer before lifting his equally heavy eyelids halfway just to let those pool into theirs as well. The way they smiled at him was innocent, adoring, and... happy. Mammon knew his lazy smirk gave them the same feeling as well.

Mammon didn’t think he’d find himself stuck in a closet today—he especially didn’t expect to kiss MC—but he was thankful nonetheless. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind, however, but he just couldn’t find the strength to address it when such an amazing, adorable, teasing little brat stood in front of him; he wanted more—more kisses, more time alone, more of them, more--

The room flooded with light, the force which the door was opened caused a heavy wind against Mammon’s back. Judging by the sheepish look on MC’s face, it wasn’t a good sign in the slightest. In an instant, the warmth that cradled his face—and the rest of him—had been stripped away as he was lifted by the back of his shirt and pulled away from MC and dragged out of the closet.

“Dammit Lucifer, ya couldn’t’ve waited a few more minutes!”

“Be thankful I found you when I did, thanks to MC’s laugh. Any longer and your punishment would have been tripled.”

Hearing that it was their fault, Mammon watched MC give him an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of their head regretfully before blowing him an apologetic kiss that made him cry out.

“Aw, come on!”

#obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! mammon #om! mammon #om! drabbles #obey me! drabbles #obey me! writing #om!#om! writing #swd: obey me!#shall we date: obey me #om! imagines #obey me! imagines #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #satans bookmark

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celestianstars · 4 years

Text

Sweet Dreams

Chris Evans x Black Female!Reader

Request: Chris is sleep deprived from stress and you decide to do what you can to help him get some rest

Warnings: lots of fluff and only some mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Note: I know I said I’d try and make this one short but kinda didn’t stick to that plan lol, but it’s a quick read I promise!

——————————————————————————

“Did you get any sleep last night, Chris? You look wiped out.” you watched your boyfriend make his way around the kitchen, eyes low and sunken.

“I mean...I think I got a solid hour or two.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and sitting down at the table next to you.

You chewed at the inside of your lip, your hand automatically reaching out to hold his.

Chris had been super busy lately in terms of work and work related things.

He had just gotten back the other day from filming another project and then 24 hours later was on another flight to D.C for a more important, political endeavor he’d been working on for a good couple years now.

It shocked you that he wasn’t out like a light the second he got home last night, he looked ready to be back in his own bed, only if you and Dodger would accompany him, however, which was made clear by the pout he gave you when he asked you to come to bed a little earlier than your usual time.

But seemingly, he hadn’t slept at all while you lay your head on his chest and fell asleep within minutes.

Chris was always good at getting you to do that, he was warm and his heart was beating calm and steady and his fingers were lightly brushing against your skin as he held you, all a recipe for you slip into a deep sleep.

It worried you a little, sleep was so important and you didn’t like seeing Chris look this tired or stressed either but you tried to persuade him and your own mind that it was probably just the fact that he’d been travelling so much lately, his body was too wired to really let him rest.

It made sense, and it was true to an extent but Chris wasn’t ready to admit that it was because he was more stressed than jet lagged.

Talking about it might bring those fears about his work to reality so for the time being, Chris tried to shove it all to the back of his mind and just focus on having a nice stretch of time off where he could finally spend some quality time with you and his best dog and go visit and catch up with family.

“Alright sleepyhead, what do you want for breakfast is the real question here.” you stand up and come over to ruffle his hair, smiling softly at the way his arms immediately come up to wrap around your waist.

“Hmm, I’ve been dying for some of those homemade waffles and eggs of yours. Tried making them myself and it was a disaster in my hotel kitchen.” Chris snorts, leaning forward to press a kiss to your ribs.

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn the place down, but you got it baby. Oh, also! I was wondering if we could drop by the beauty supply store, I need more braiding hair, I was thinking of doing smaller braids this time.”

“Sure thing! We need more dog food anyways and it’s right in the area. And braids, huh? I can’t wait, you know I love seeing you with that style.”

Chris caught you rolling your eyes at that, both of you chuckling because of the very dirty innuendo to his tone.

He liked to play with your braids and pull them in bed, gently of course cause he knows you’d kill him if one of them loosened up and unraveled. But he also really couldn’t stop himself from doing it while he fucked you good, and not that you were complaining either.

---

You were browsing the chew toy section of the pet store you were in, letting Dodger sniff around the toys. Chris was right behind you, shaking his head at how much you spoiled his dog.

“What?! He deserves another toy, ok. He was such a good boy keeping me company while you were away. Best cuddle buddy.” you shrugged at the way Chris feigned shock.

“Oh so my own dog had taken my place as best cuddle buddy huh? I thought you were supposed to be wingman, Dodge, not steal my girl.”

“I can’t with you oh my god. Nah, you’re still my number one everything, Evans.” you lean back against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder, turning your face to press a kiss to his bearded jaw.

“And I see that barber I told you to go to has shown this beard some love. Such a clean line up.” you wink at him and he pinches your ass.

“That’s for sure, thank you for that by the way. But it could also use some extra love with you sitting on it, is all I’m sayin.” now it was Chris’ turn to watch your jaw drop.

Yeah, it had been awhile and though neither of you were up for it last night, tonight Chris intended to show you exactly how much he’d missed you.

---

Later that day you were sitting on the couch watching a show on Netflix, Dodger at your feet while Chris drank some coffee, brows knit in concentration as he read over some papers.

“How’s the business in D.C coming along?” you noticed the usual stressed out body language and gestures from him. He kept running his hands through his hair and letting out little sighs and huffs here and there.

“So far so good I would say, we’ve got more senators on board for the project it’s just...I don’t know.” he leaned his back, arms crossed. Defensive and on edge was written all across his features.

Shifting your body so you were facing him, you squeezed his thigh and took the papers from his lap, stacking them neatly and setting them aside on the coffee table.

“Talk to me, baby. Are you worried about it all coming together? I know you’ve been taking on a lot lately, even though you’re not doing this project alone, it’s still a lot and you are the face of it, I’m sure that makes you feel some anxiety.”

He felt tense and it made you frown, you wanted to help relax him as much as you could, and now you could see this was probably what was keeping him up at night.

“Yeah you’re right, actually. I just want this thing to be good, something informative and easy to use and it scares me to think it’ll be a huge failure or it’ll be used for the wrong things. I think I’ve been thinking of about a hundred ways it could go wrong if I’m being honest and I don’t really know what to do,”

“By now people have seen me going back and forth from here to D.C and I’m nervous about..well everything.” he placed his palm over yours and squeezed your hand.

Chris appreciated that you took the time to ask and really listen to him, cause half the time all he felt like he was doing was talking about his problems and not paying enough attention to you but then you’d quiet his fears and tell him that you would make sure he knew if you felt neglected.

You understood the nature of his work and of his always good and kind intentions and how his anxiety played into all of it.

“I wouldn’t blame you, it’s a big thing you’re doing. But remember that you’re trying to do some good, trying to make understanding politics and policy a little easier and I don’t think anybody can call you a failure for that, no matter what happens. The best any of us can do is try and bring something about that will help others and baby, you do that in so many different ways. Creatively in the art of acting and also in what you believe in outside acting.”

You scoot closer and rest your forehead against the side of his head for a minute, letting your words sink in.

“You’ve put so much of your time and energy and passion into this, I think you have to trust yourself a bit more. Maybe this certain project is new to you but from what I’ve seen, you’ve thought this out so well, so detailed and thoughtful to the audience you’re trying to reach. I think, and I’m not just saying this because I clearly have a bias, that you are putting out something great here,”

“And if it fails, if things don’t go how you wanted, you know that you did your best to steer it in the right direction and sometimes it doesn’t always work but that doesn’t make you a failure. You always have the opportunity to make something amazing, and coming from your insanely intelligent brain, I know it’s endless.”

You finish off your pep talk and give him some quiet to think about what you said, smoothly sliding across to sit in his lap so you could massage his shoulders.

Chris hummed, smiling at how soft your hands felt on him.

You were such a gift.

Not only did you know exactly what to say during times like this but you also seemed to know exactly what he needed, you were so observant and it kind of amazed him how you seemed to be two steps ahead of him sometimes.

It made him want to strive to be on your level.

All he hoped for was to reciprocate the same love and affection and support you offered him and you always reassured each other that you were doing exactly that.

After a minute Chris opened his eyes and met your gaze, blue eyes soft and tired.

“I fucking love you, you know that?” his voice was low and breathy and it made you bashful.

“I know and I love you too. I just believe in you and the talent and heart you give to everything. It’s stunning to watch you work.”

You keep a steady rhythm with your hands, moving them up to massage the back of his neck.

“Thank you for everything. And in that case I wanna come clean about something. I haven’t been sleeping much more than an hour or so for a bit now, I thought it was just because of traveling and the workload but you were right, it’s from stressing over all this shit. But you’re right, I gotta trust myself more and have some hope in it.”

“Yeah I figured. And I know you’ll get there, I’m sure it’s still gonna stress you out but as long as you remember what we talked about and can call upon that when it happens. How about we have a de-stress night? We’ll take a warm shower, maybe do a face mask, and I don’t know...something else that might require another shower afterwards too.” you wink and he throws his head back in a laugh.

“Oh so that’s what this whole thing was really about, she’s trying to get in my pants, I’m just a piece of meat to her!” Chris fake cries.

“You’re sO ridiculous oh my gosh. I mean that may have been part of it but for real, I know this is gonna come together and succeed. You’ve been doing such a great job.”

Chris nods and leans forwards, his arms coming around you again, pressing you forward into his chest where his lips met yours, a searingly passionate and loving kiss melting everything else away.

Abruptly, you pulled away, squirming your way out of his grip to drop down to your knees in front of him, your head resting on his thigh while your hands tugged at his belt buckle. His eyebrows went up in question but he didn’t stop you.

“Oh so this is your idea of de-stressing?” his eyes darkened and he raised his hips up slightly to help you slide his pants down.

“Mhm, sucking your dick is therapeutic for me honestly, and I wanna make you relax.” you smirked again, letting your hands start going to work because you truly were eager to get your hands on him.

“God, you’re really something else. Not complaining though, fuck that feels good. I’ve really missed this. And as long as you know I’m gonna return the favor. I was serious about this beard needing some of your love.”

“Fine by me, baby.” you giggle, sinking your mouth down around his tip, relishing in his taste and the way he hissed and contracted underneath you.

---

After a couple hours of going at it in bed rather loudly, and a nice shower and peeling face masks off each other, you and Chris were finally settled in bed, Dodger laying at the foot of the bed.

“I am actually struggling to keep my eyes open right now, baby. It’s a miracle.”

Chris smiled lazily, pulling the covers up around your shoulders while you got comfy snuggling into him.

“See, told you I knew the trick to getting good rest. You deserve it too. I hope you have sweet dreams, meatball.” you nuzzle his neck and place a chaste kiss to his lips before settling back down.

Chris only grunted in response and you went on talking for a little bit longer, explaining how happy you were he was home and that you’d finally be able to sleep in with him for a good week.

He’d been quiet for a minute and when you glanced up to check, you found your handsome man asleep, a calm look on his face, his breathing beginning to slow.

And with another soft kiss to his chest, you lay your head against his heart and shut your eyes, happy and serene knowing you were in his arms and had gotten him to finally sleep easily again.

Sweet dreams.

---

A/N: Reading that interview Chris did where he mentioned he only slept like an hour a night recently I was like...my baby, nooo. Hopefully he’s getting some good sleep soon cause it’s what he deserves, periodt pooh!

I hope this was alright and thank you to the anon that requested this, I loved writing it and hope it wasn’t too long since I know we discussed making it shorter.

And thank you to everyone reading! I love y’all so much I truly do!

Please let me know what you think also, I’m a slut for feedback!

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katcadecascade · 4 years

Text

Luck Will Fly

Fair Game fic I already posted on ao3 and decided to post here

it’s basically a baby bird acquisition oneshot

“Um, Clover?” The young huntress began and immediately Clover has a tight breath stuck in him.

Ruby Rose is known for impeccable leadership and clever strategies that rely heavily upon teamwork. As per of her skills, she has an air of confidence and hope.

Right now in the academy’s grand hallways where Clover was simply making his way to the kitchen, Ruby approaches him with a frown.

Despite the short amount of time knowing her, that frown means something bad is happening to a love one.

He instinctively has the urge to go find Qrow.

“Is something wrong?” He asks and his old teachers would reprimand him for speaking with such a tone. Captains are meant to be collected and stable. Yet the thought of anything bad happening to the dark haired man sends spikes into the Ace Leader’s chest.

The young adult, still a teenager to Clover’s mind, sends him a freaked surprise that’s shifts into confusion, “No, I don’t believe so. I’m wondering if you’ve seen Uncle Qrow lately.”

He wants to say that every time he sees Qrow, he’s beautiful and stunning and takes his breath away. But this is Qrow’s niece, those thoughts are highly inappropriate to share out loud.

That and as much as Clover dislikes admitting, he hasn’t seen Qrow lately.

“Not really,” Clover said, “He’s the first one to leave the meetings and so far has denied my invitations.” Ruby raises a brow at that last word. A flushed heat crawled up his neck as he quickly clarifies, “Invitations to tea or game nights, that is.”

“Uh huh, yeah he hasn’t been hanging out with any of us lately,” Ruby tapped her chin, “but it’s always the same excuse.”

“I gotta take care of something,” Clover quotes, recalling the hurried tone the huntsman used. “I assumed it was for your or your teams’ sake.”

She shrugged, “I thought it was about you.”

Clover blinked, not at all understanding how she connected those dots.

Because throughout all this time, Clover wants those dots connected, he desperately wants Qrow to give him some sort of sign that he likes him back. They flirt at each other left and right and Clover hopes for something else. He wants his advice for Qrow to get through that brain of his.

Qrow’s always deflecting compliments, shrugging off his self-worth but he’s been doing less so each time Clover manages to get that soft vulnerable look on his face, like he’s no longer hiding in a shadow of doubt and misery.

But right now, from the sounds of it, Qrow is distancing himself from everyone.

Clover didn’t question further, never reading anything to worry from the distracted look in Qrow’s face.

“Whatever this ‘something’ is,” Clover said, “it’s keeping his entire attention. Any idea what it could be, Miss Rose?”

The girl strokes her chin as if she had a long beard, her foot tapping along, “Hmm, if he’s taking care of this something for so long and in secret then maybe there’s a pattern to follow. What else has he been doing?”

The Ace Leader recalled the past week.

Unfortunately (is it though?) he spent quite a lot of it staring at Qrow’s ass.

Look, Clover can be a weak man, give him some slack.

Aside from that, he has seen Qrow always heading towards the gardens but when he passes by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the luxurious garden is empty.

“I think I know where he is,” he said, already walking with the huntress by his side.

“Oh I caught him slicing apples the other day,” Ruby brought up as it is the most important clue, “He always does that when I was younger even though he prefers to just eat to the core.”

It’s a short walk to the academy’s garden, tended daily by both students and staff to create a crisp and clean grass lawn. Flower bushes and beds are symmetrically lines down for sidewalks and a path leading towards a gazebo and groves. Along the way there are stone benches under the shade of tall trees, evenly trimmed and full of leaves.

Sure enough, the garden is cleared but the two leaders easily spot a bench with a napkin with apple slices.

“Huh, maybe we missed him,” Ruby wondered reaching down for a slice.

But then suddenly something small and dark swoops down from the tree, landing right next to the snack.

A black crow cawed at them.

Clover tilted his head, glancing at the bird then up to the tree. High in the branches, it’s a bit hard to spot a nest of twigs.

“Is Qrow known to leave out food for birds?” He asked and then he noticed Ruby has the crow on her arm. “Wow, it must really like you.”

Ruby beamed, gently petting the bird’s head, “I know.”

There was a genuine look of joy on the girl, reminding Clover that once upon a time he was like that, back when he was bright and determined to make the world a better place. He still has that determination, still is joyful, but even he has to admit that with experience and age comes a sense of doubt he can’t fight off.

Which is why Clover is happy to have the Beacon huntsmen here, they all bring in a new found hope and support. He won’t lie, he was never one hundred percent prepared when he and his team entered General Ironwood’s inner circle. The new and magical revelation still shocks him, so teaming up with Qrow and his kids were a lucky sign in Clover’s eyes.

Speaking of eyes, there is a glint of mischief sparkles in the girl’s silver eyes, a teasing smile on her lips, “I bet that this crow really likes you too.”

“I don’t have much experience with birds,” he warns as Ruby raises her arm up to get the bird closer to him. A cousin of his had a pet cockatoo, that bird was territorial and picky. It even got a good few pecks at Clover’s fingers.

“Aw,” she whined, still presented the bird up, “but this one is pretty and nice. Right, Clover?”

The crow cawed loudly at Ruby and Clover nearly backed away when the bird’s black feathers ruffled up.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of its feathers puffing up, making it seem bigger and its red eyes tiny. Once the feathers relaxed, Clover gently and slowly reached over to pet the bird.

“Yeah, he’s a very pretty bird.”

Ruby’s grin went big, not that Clover could understand why, he’s too busy petting the bird. Mostly he’s too amazed at how calm and friendly the bird trusts him to pet the wings.

“Would you say that you love the bird?” Ruby innocently batted her eyelashes. He pulled his hand back as the crow suddenly flapped its wings and pecked at Ruby’s arm. “OW! UNCLE QROW!”

“Uh,” Clover dumbly said, “Qrow?”

As Ruby waved her arm up and down, the bird flies up and Clover watches how that tiny black mass grows and what is dropping back down is a handsome man with red eyes and red cheeks.

Qrow is giving his niece a frown that is trying so hard to not be a smile, “Okay I think you have said enough, brat.”

Rubbing her arm, Ruby sticks her tongue out defiantly. In return, Qrow ruffles up her hair.

Meanwhile, Clover is staring with his jaw dropped.

That bird… was it? Wait no wait- magic real, yep, recalling that- but Qrow and crow and pretty birds?

If he had more rational thought (because half his mind is always focused on Qrow) maybe, just maybe, Clover would remember that he has been informed of the existence of magic and wizards and gods and such.

But of course leave it to Qrow Branwen to always leave Clover Ebi senseless and awed.

“So I’m guessing from the look on your face that Jimmy didn’t tell you everything about me.”

“Ahhhhh,” is falling out of his mouth.

Neither man notices the way Ruby is giggling, her eyes darting between them.

Or well, Qrow is at least ignoring her. Every time he glances over to his niece his cheeks flare up in a redness that just wows Clover.

He wants to kiss those cheeks, watch how the pale skin easily shades into red under the faintest of touches. Those red eyes must look gorgeous when vivid emotions take over, freeing the man from any burdens of the world. Clover wishes desperately to have that honor of sending that sense of security and freedom to the dark haired man.

Tiny chirps interrupt the three hunters.

Qrow sighs and with swift, practice motion, feathers dawned on him. His small form picks up an apple slice and he flies to the nest.

Another chirp arises, sounding more pleased, and Qrow returns to the ground, his boots making a thud noise on the landing.

Ruby is on her uncle’s arm with a wide, excited smile, “Is that a bird up there? That’s whose the apples are for? Can we meet it?”

“It’s a ‘her’ and no,” he shakes his head, “She’s too young to fly down yet.”

Staring up, Clover could barely see movement in the nest. Crumbles of apple chunks scatter over the edge and he could see a tiny beak peer over. Miniscule black eyes meet Clover’s and he is startled by the amount of intelligence and curiosity that little creature has.

“She’s all alone?” Somehow Clover regained his voice and this is his first sentence. It’s also not the first time he said that question, tinged with sadden when he reaches the end of a rescue mission.

“Yeah,” Qrow’s own voice echoes something lonely and empathetic, “She’s been crying out each morning but no one came back for her. I finally found her and,” slowly, almost unnoticed, Qrow had Ruby under his arm, “I couldn’t leave her.”

Their red capes swayed with the gentle breeze, creating a picture of wings wrapped around them.

Ruby smiles up to her uncle, “Does she have a name?”

He shrugged, “I don’t exactly speak bird but I think she’s too young to remember if she was even named.”

A forlorn gaze takes over those red eyes, a familiar sadness tugging onto old handles sunken into the huntsman’s heart.

“Well I think she’s lucky to have you,” Clover comments, sending the other man a wink. It’s become too much of a habit to stop now, not that Clover wants to stop winking at Qrow. Still, it gets Qrow flustered before he could avoid the compliment.

“That’s it!” Ruby gasp, her whole body jittering, “Her name will be Lucky!”

Clover grins so wide it hurts.

Qrow groans.

“I- Oh Brothers no, Ruby, kiddo, no.”

“I think it’s a fitting name.”

“Of course you do, Lucky Charm.”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, “that can’t be my nickname anymore. Otherwise I’ll be very confused.”

Qrow scoffed, “What am I going to feed you apple slices?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Clover finished with a wink.

Qrow groans, covering his face with his hands.

“Can I feed Lucky?” Ruby asks earnestly, already holding up an apple slice.

Her uncle uncovers his face, taking the slice, “Sorry, kiddo, she hasn’t met people yet. Young birds obverses a lot before they want to get closer. I kind of have to teach her the ropes.”

Ruby lightly punches his shoulder, “Then it’s a good thing she has the best teacher in the world.”

Qrow absolutely preens under the praise, so much like any other time Clover compliments him. He still scratches the back of his neck, tugging a few strands out of place. Clover has the urge to brush them back into an even shape, feel the heat in Qrow’s neck.

“You got everything you need for Lucky?” Clover checks, “We don’t need to gather up worms, do we?”

The caped duo naturally gags at the thought.

“Please don’t tell me you have worm bait, you fisherman,” Qrow pleas.

“Alright I won’t tell you.”

“Gross,” Ruby insightfully adds.

“I got this covered.” The shapeshifter assures, “Her flight and tail feathers just need to grow in and then she’ll be all set.”

Without another word, Qrow jumps up and a crow is flapping about. He flies higher up to the nest and he and Lucky chirp at each other.

Clover still can’t believe the transformation happened right before his eyes. It was so smooth and flawless to be considered a trick of the eye. Nope it was real magic, not something like a relic where it is basically in stasis, but magic as a muscle or a performance. It was definitely eye opening, not that Qrow doesn’t already do that.

For precautionary measures he takes a seat on the bench. “So, right, magic, that’s still a thing?”

The young huntress has the decency to silently laugh at him, “Yep, it is totally a thing.”

“And Qrow’s able to do this because?” Clover trailed off, not sure if it’s a sensitive topic or not.

A clouded look goes over Ruby’s face, “It apparently happened before I was born. Only knew about it a few months ago.” She sits beside the Ace Op, letting her toes tap together in an offbeat rhythm. “But now that I think back, a lot of things make sense. I would find feathers on his cape and oh yeah, he gets really distracted by shiny stuff.”

An undignified squawk is heard above.

“Really now?” Clover teases, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

This time the squawk sounds flustered.

Spending the rest of their down time in the garden becomes Clover’s favorite thing for the next few weeks.

It’s a quiet thing, birdwatching in a way as Qrow is the one in charge of the actual care taking for little Lucky. Since Ruby and Clover knew so little on birds, Qrow often shared bits of stuff he learned about throughout his experience of being a crow.

The way Qrow described his new perspective of the world, a place so big and new. He’s able to see places untouched by man, high tree tops or steep skyscraper tops. Suffice to say, the huntsman does not fear heights.

A new energy washed over Qrow as he rambles about stuff he has kept secret. Ruby is just as eager to listen to her uncle’s stories. Clover feels honored for being trusted with it.

The man is just so relaxed in his element, surrounded by nature with a bright eyed youngling oohing and awing at right moments in his stories. Tales of a crow plucking shiny accessories out of propitious folks (it was later returned by the way) and getting into places birds normally don’t have access too.

Clover doesn’t know Beacon or Signal teachers by name but apparently Qrow was a handful for them.

Sometimes Ruby doesn’t join them in the garden, leaving Clover to wait for the crow to finish his bird duties.

Today it seems like Lucky wants to spread her wings. Her chirps forming into a song that Qrow has taught her.

“She’s getting restless,” Qrow rubs his neck, slumping down on the ground so that his back rests against the bench. “I… I think it really is almost time for…”

“For her to leave the nest?” Clover lightly teases, he understands the sudden solemnness that is clouding on the other man but he’ll try his best to clear it. “Lucky will be able to fly with you.”

Qrow clenches his hands over his knees, “That’s not always a good thing. She’ll get hurt just like-“

“Hey,” he moves down to sit on Qrow’s level, getting dirt on his white uniform is the last thing on his mind as Clover takes Qrow’s hand, “She’s in your care. She’ll always want to return back to you.”

They’re no longer talking about a bird, not when their last mission had a close call with Ruby apparently pulling a Yang. (The nieces just have a knack of almost getting eaten alive by big Grimm)

Qrow won’t meet his eyes, “Lucky will eventually find a real flock to be with. I’m just temporary.”

“No you’re not,” he states, reaching over to hold Qrow’s face. His red eyes still hold some lingering doubt. “You raised her and while I don’t know much about birds but I know they’re smart. She’ll remember you for your kindness, patience, and most importantly your heart.”

It almost hurts Clover to see Qrow act like he’s never been told he’s all of those things before. He may not ever know the lengths of Qrow’s pain but he wants to be there for him, to remind him that he really is a good person.

Qrow still stares with vulnerability that is so pure and sacred. Clover will cherish this sight.

“I…” Qrow begins but it’s like something is stuck in his throat, “Clover I…” Hearing his name uttered so softly sent a shiver down Clover’s spine. “Yeah, I guess, yeah Lucky will remember all of that.”

Both have forgotten how their hands interlock, a firm grasp as they hear chirping continue.

Oh yeah, chirping, it’s getting louder.

Instantly both men snap their eyes up to see Lucky flapping her wings, her feet gripping the edge of the nest.

Clover’s breath is stuck, his entire being trained to help and protect but Qrow squeezes his hand.

Completely immune to Clover’s tension and anxiety, Qrow actually sighs with relief. Sadly he smiles, “She really is one restless bird.”

Lucky finally beats her wings in a steady rhythm and jumps off the nest. Next thing Clover knows, that little crow is soaring above their heads.

A new feeling hits Clover like a sucker punch.

Clover wonders if Qrow feels this way every time one of his kids are sent on a mission, this flurry of panic and worry and concern wrapped around a tiny voice that says ‘they’re all grown up and can take care of their selves’.

It feels like a heart attack to be honest.

“Are you okay Clover?”

A gentle hand slides over his cheek, damp.

Oh, Clover belatedly realizes, he’s crying.

“I’m fine,” he tries to say steadily. It comes out wobbly.

Qrow gives him a knowing smile, already whipping the tears away, “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Right, right of course,” Clover agrees, already a little embarrassed because why is he crying, it’s Qrow he should be comforting.

He spent weeks watching Qrow take care of Lucky. That baby bird probably doesn’t even know Clover. All Clover really contributed was carrying fruit for them.

Still though, out of curiosity and maybe envy, he complains, “How are you not a sobbing mess?”

“Eh,” Qrow shrugs, “I got all my waterworks out when Ruby dressed up like me for All Hollow’s Eve.”

Rubbing away the rest of his tears, Clover chuckles, “I bet you have that saved on your scroll.”

“What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t?”

If there’s one thing Qrow loves to brag about, it’s about being Ruby’s and Yang’s super cool uncle. Now after witnessing the vast amount of domesticity coming off of them as of late, Clover sees what he’s missing out on.

Clover could smile a hundred different kinds but none is like the one Qrow dawns at this moment.

It’s a tiny one yet it expresses so much love he has for his family.

A small part of him hopes to be a reason Qrow smiles just as lovingly.

“Hey, look at that,” Qrow points up and while Clover doesn’t want to take his eyes off the man, he looks up to see a familiar crow start circling down to them.

“I told you she’ll return.”

Lucky swoops around and lands on top of Qrow’s knee, chirping like a singer.

Gently, the shapeshifter brushes his fingers against the feathers, a cooing sound coming from the bird. They’re all lost in this moment, carefully watching the how the bird blinks up to them.

Then to Clover’s surprise, Lucky hops over to Clover’s knee.

“Does she know me?” He asks, hesitant and quiet.

Qrow rolls his eyes, “I told you, birds always observe before getting close. She probably knows you as the snack boy.”

The joke doesn’t shake Clover’s apprehension on having such a small and important creature on him. Her eyes are intelligent, completely relaxed with Clover. He takes a chance and carefully raises a hand to pet her.

His hand keeps hesitating, centimeters away from touching her, almost trembling.

“It’s okay,” Qrow whispers, not daring his voice to break the quietness between them, “She trusts you.”

Hearing that confidence in Qrow’s voice is what gets Clover to finally reach Lucky, her feathers so soft under his calloused fingertips.

“She likes me,” he says with such surprise and bubbling joy over this little bird.

His eyes flicker over to Qrow and again there’s a soft look on the dark haired man. He just finds more ways to steal Clover’s heart.

As much as both men want to stay in this moment, Lucky decides her goodbyes are done.

She flaps a few times and then off she flies.

“Are you going after her?”

Clover kind of expected Qrow to take off by now but instead Qrow rejoins their hands. A new glint is in his red eyes as he stares into Clover.

“No, I’m good here.”

#my fic #rwby #fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #ruby rose #rwby fic

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wolf-555-writer · 5 years

Text

Outbreak

Kind of got the idea from S2E4 of DC’s Legends of Tomorrow (I know, I know, it’s an old episode). Hope you like it!

Sara Lance x Reader

Summary: In the future an anachronism is created by the Legion of Doom (Eobard Thawne) to distract the Legends from finding the Spear of Destiny. The team needs to fix this, hopefully in time before someone gets hurt.

Word Count: 4,930

I feel a bit… light-headed, dizzy, nauseous. A violent pain radiates from my forearm through my upper arm and promptly I feel it in my whole body. I see the warm blood seeping out of the fresh wound on my left arm, but I can’t concentrate on it. I’m cold. Strange images flash through my mind and my vision gets blurry. I’m losing control. I can’t… it’s... I fall to the ground on my knees and use my hands to cover my face completely. I start to hyperventilate and don't even notice that painful spot on my knee anymore. Suddenly my body is packed with adrenaline, I sense it from head to toe. I don’t feel like myself. It’s spreading like poison. Poison inside my veins. I can see Sara. She looks worried and doesn’t know what to do. That’s a first. Mick is standing next to her with his usual grumpy expression. I speed towards them. Why? I don’t want to. Not like this. I’m losing control. All I crave is blood. Human blood.

///

“I’m seriously not built for this…”, you pant, exhaling your breath in a strong blow with drops of sweat coating your forehead. “Don't be such a whiner and keep running!”, Sara exclaims while looking over her shoulder with a troubled expression. Both on foot inside a dark, abandoned building with Sara taking the lead. Industrial lights flicker along the route, yet barely providing any guidance for your getaway. “Didn’t they train you for this? In the army?”, Sara mocks, glancing at you but swiftly averting her gaze to something shady in the distance. Her face shows a subtle grin. However, you can sense that she’s scared as hell, just like you are. “The army?! Yes they did, miss Lance. But you damn well know that I was Special Forces”, you scoff. “You make it too easy for me (Y/N)”. Sara laughs, but quickly stops. She doesn’t want to waste any oxygen desperately needed to fuel her even more fatiguing muscles. “I was just making small talk you know”, you mutter, lying, considering your legs are burning as if they’re on fire. “Sure you did”, Sara teases, occupied with figuring out how to open the rusty emergency exit that leads to your great escape. “It's stuck. I can't…. Can't. Get. It. To. Open”, she argues whilst battering the metal structure with her shoulder repeatedly. “A little help please?! (Y/N)?!”. “Um… Sara…”, you whisper with a higher pitch than usual, back turned towards her. “I'm asking for your help (Y/N)!? I can’t get it open. It’s just, stuck”. “Yeah, about that…”. You’re tapping on her shoulder like crazy, similar to an annoying toddler begging for candy from their mom, which causes Sara to jolt her head away from the exit to face you. “What!? We don’t have time for th-”. She immediately mirrors you, locking her eyes on the same spot.

“What the h- You couldn't have warned me earlier?!”, she criticizes, staring with her eyes wide open at the sight of a disturbing image approaching fast. “Well, I-I thought you had it perfectly under control. You know, like always”, you counter while raising your shoulders. “Okay (Y/N), that’s enough ass kissing for today”, Sara declares, lifting an eyebrow. “What- no, I wasn’t- That’s not-”. “Come on! We need to move. Now!”. Sara grabbed you by the wrist, and pulled you with her. She drags you by your arm towards the staircase nearby, being the only way out of this desperate situation. “Faster (Y/N)!”. “Yes, yes. I’m right behind you!”. What should’ve been a simple scouting mission, turned out to be something rather... different. Though, you would never refuse an assignment if teamed up with Sara. Like a well-oiled machine you guys work good together. Flying up the stairs, you take two steps at a time to reach the top even faster, trying to get away from the nearing danger. In between the heavy breathing, faint low growling sounds can be heard as they become louder and louder. It’s not the sound of hungry animals, it’s ...something else.

“Guys, can you hear me?”, Sara asks over the comms, reaching out to the rest of the team who are all back on the Waverider. “Yes miss Lance, what can we do for you?”, a peaceful, silvery voice answers. “Where are you? Where’s the Waverider? We need you guys to come pick us up. ASAP.”. “Calm down miss Lance, we-”. “Calm down?! You try to calm down while being chased by bloodthirsty-”. In the middle of your outbreak to Professor Stein you trip with your concentration shifted to the ongoing discussion. Irritated, but also jealous at the stay-home-squad, who are probably relaxing or partying right now without their Captain present. Only thinking about it makes you wish you were there too. A nagging pain originates from your knee that just hit the blunt concrete and you reach for it with both hands. Get up and ignore the pain, you repeat inside your head, pushing yourself off the cold ground and quickly gripping the rigid stair railing with your left hand. Wanting to move your leg to take the next step, but you can’t. Someone is holding you back. A frigid hand grabbed your ankle real tight. You try to shake it off in an instant, instead the person is pulling you down. “We’re being chased by-”. “Don’t you dare say it Sara! Stop!”, Stein intervenes, but to no avail, as Sara shouts: “by zombies!”. Hearing Sara’s voice fade away slowly considering you’re stuck. Staring down, rattled, because all you can look at are the bloody, sharp teeth and pale skin of the one hanging on to you. You have never seen anything like this before, only in the movies. Charging up, and with all the strength you got, you shoot your leg down. A powerful kick on the head caused the hand to disappear, and you sprint towards Sara who didn’t even notice you’d fallen behind. “Zombies are not real Sara. I don’t like that word. There must be a scientific expla-”. A static noise replaced Stein’s lecture while the loud beep continues to ring in your ear. “Stein? Professor?! Can you hear me?”, Sara repeats, finally able to catch her breath because she stopped running.

“Can't get this to door open too!?”, you shout in anger, “Too bad I don't have the power to turn into steel”. “Or wear an exosuit that can blast through these doors…”, Sara adds. “That suit is totally overrated”, you claim, even though it would be of much use right now. “Jealous much? Good thing Ray can't hear you”, Sara jokes while punching your shoulder in a playful way which makes you laugh. Her short touch caused the tension to flow away as you immediately relax. The light from the fluorescent tube attached to the ceiling makes her blue eyes sparkle and her long, blond hair is a little messy due to all the chaos of today. Her skin is glowing mildly as she’s heated up from the amount of stairs you and her just covered. You keep staring at her lovely features for a second. However, it feels like time’s standing still. Sunken away a bit too long, because Sara detected a pair of eyes fixed on her.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?”. Sara’s voice snapped you out of your magical gaze and you start blushing a little, cheeks turning light red. A wide grin appeared on her face. “Were you checking me-”. She abruptly turned her head to the left and doesn’t finish her sentence. Interrupted, again, by a bunch of insane, bloodthirsty people. “You try the door, I’ll fight them off”, you command and draw Sara behind you. Close to the exit and away from the approaching wild.

Fighting off the Z’s by pushing them down the stairs, or punching them in the face and then kicking them down the stairs. Whatever works in the moment. Without getting bitten of course, we all know what happens then...

“Makes it a bit more difficult considering I can't shoot them”, you complain to Sara who’s busy with the door while on occasion looking at you. Without hesitation or an answer, Sara grabs the gun that was tucked in the back of your jeans, which catches you off guard for a second. She takes a step back, towards the danger so to speak, and fires by pulling the trigger without blinking. A loud bang fills the small space and causes everyone to freeze for a moment, even your psycho attackers. Sara kicks the door open and calls your name. Rapidly you follow and close the door in one movement. While catching your breath, you brace the door with your whole body. Tracking Sara with your eyes, seeing her pace around on the rooftop. “What the hell are you doing? I could use a little help here?! Sara!”, you yell, annoyed but also scared while feeling people bang on the door that has no lock anymore since a few minutes ago. “Move! I found something”, Sara demands as she came rushing back with a large wooden beam clutched in her arms. With the door barricaded you both walk away cautiously, eyes fixed on the improvised lock. “Will it hold?”, you ask, voice laced with doubt. “Seems like it”. “Okay… and now what?”. No way out, trapped on a roof in the future. “Guess we’ll have to wait for the team to come pick us up”, Sara concludes, hands on her hips and scanning her surroundings. “Hope it’s not gonna take them long, cause I could use a drin-”.

A loud noise made you stop mid-sentence and turn around while holding your breath. The wooden beam snapped in half and the rooftop starts to fill with the walking dead. The situation is getting more and more desperate now that you’re boxed in. Both slowly backing up till there’s no roof left. Pressed against each other and the brick wall that prevents a nasty fall on the concrete road way down below. Perfect time to confess those hidden feelings. “Any ideas left (Y/N)?”. “So, Sara… I gotta say something”. “We could use a brilliant escape plan of yours right now”. “Well, uhm, there’s actually something else I need to say”, you stammer with a tight voice, sight fixed on the predators and their hungry eyes, nearing their prey. “What could be more important than, well, not dying?”, Sara asks, focused on you with her eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer. “Well, Sara, I-”. “Yes?”. “I am, um, I’m in love with y-”. The timing couldn’t be worse. Or better, not sure which one yet. Balls of fire hit the roof and keep the psychos at bay as a large spaceship, aka the Waverider, appears above the crowded building. “Somebody need a ride?”, Firestorm proposes from up in the air. The team arrived, just in time. Well, a few seconds later would have been fine too, but can’t complain, right...

///

“Where the hell were you guys? (Y/N) and I were almost eaten by those zombies”, Sara shouts as she enters the bridge, stamping her feet in discontent. “Seems like a normal working day to me”, Mick adds while taking a sip of the beer he’s holding. “Don’t call them zombies!”, Stein repeats again, still in denial about their existence and flailing his arms around to make the point more clear. “The comms went dark, but luckily Gideon was able to track your location”, Nate explains, giving a high five to Ray. “Thank you Gideon”, Sara addresses while leaning against the central console located in the middle of the bridge. “My pleasure, Captain”, the AI returns. Sara sways her head back, eyes closed, and takes a deep breath. “So, the anachronism is zombies. We need a plan”. At the sound of that awful word again, Stein’s expression changed into a fierce scowl followed by a deep sigh. It’s of no use anymore, Martin realizes. He can’t change the team’s mind, so let’s just call them ‘zombies’. “It seems like these people are infected with some kind of virus. A virus I’ve never seen before”, Ray points out as he pulls up some scientific articles. “This virus will cause a massive outbreak worldwide and eradicate the human race within a year, according to this newspaper”, Amaya mentions while reading the information provided by Gideon. “Meaning there is, and never will be, a treatment for this virus, not even in the future”, Nate continues. “So, we need to fix this. Find and develop a cure to fix this anachronism in time so we can continue our search for the remaining pieces of the Spear”. “Sounds like a plan, Captain”, Jax agrees. “What do you need to make a cure for this ‘virus’, Ray? Stein?”, Sara asks as she shifts to the scientists, but focuses her eyes on someone else instead. “(Y/N), everything okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back”. Sara’s words caused everybody to jolt their heads towards you while you keep looking at the ground with a mindless stare. The silence made you look up and mutter quietly: “Huh, something wrong? Was there a question?”. “Everything okay, (Y/N)?”, Sara restates with concerned eyes. Normally you wouldn’t hesitate to assist Sara in coming up with a plan, which she appreciates more than she’d like to admit. However, not now as she clearly noticed. “Yeah I’m okay. All fine”, you quickly lie, faking a small smile, ‘cause now is not the time. It’s never the right time. There hasn't been a single moment to act on these affectionate feelings you have for the Captain of this ship. Busy 24/7, to save the timeline, to come up with a plan to defeat the Legion of Doom and also trying to stay one step ahead of them in retrieving pieces of the Spear of Destiny. So yeah, how ironic it must sound, considering you’re on a timeship, travelling through time, that there is never, not even the tiniest moment where you can be alone with Sara. Before you can say anything, craving a proper conversation with her about what happened on the rooftop earlier, the team already headed out for the next mission on Sara’s customary one-liners as she announced:

“Let's cure some zombies”.

///

Gideon provided the team with the location of a closed down hospital where the ‘zombie’ virus had to be created. Ground Zero. It wasn’t possible to pinpoint which lab inside the building, so the team had to split up. Amaya, Nate and Jax were tasked to cover the main floor first while Sara, Mick and you started the search in the basement laboratory. Martin and Ray stayed on the Waverider on comms to help guide both teams in recovering the correct substance to assemble a cure. Namely the original virus in its pure form. That was all you remembered anyways, that you had to search for a glass vial. The scientists talked about complicated chemistry and biological words impossible to pronounce. It became boring, so you stopped listening to them after a few minutes. Which probably the others did too.

“Looks like nobody has been here for a while”, Sara concludes, judging by the trashed lab equipment, broken glass from tubes, vials and beakers that cover the entire floor and the lights that don't seem to work anymore. “This doesn't look like the right spot Ray, I hope the others have more luck”. “Copy that Captain. I'll go and ask them, immediately. Atom out”, Ray replied, confident about the awesomeness of his closing statement. “Why is Ray like this…”, Sara sighs while strolling to the doorway. The penetrating chemical smell that's hanging around makes her want to leave, pronto. “It’s so quiet out here. Guess not a lot of people were infected after all”, you say relieved, shining with a flashlight across the dark, vacated room. A sudden cold breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Maybe it’s too quiet… The sound of glass shattering makes you turn around. “Rory?”. You shine the beam of light on him as if he’s standing in the spotlights. As a reaction he grumbles angry and covers his eyes since the bright light blinds him. “Get that out of my face, Special Forces!”. “See Sara? It ain't that hard”, you tease, standing next to her and ready to leave this scary place behind. She gives you a light punch on the shoulder accompanied by a soft chuckle. “I shall not joke about it ever again”, Sara mocks with the use of a plummy voice and her chin lifted up high. And again you hear a sound and shine on a closed freezer door while stepping closer. “(Y/N), let’s go. This place is giving me the creeps”.

“Oh- um… that thing I said about not a lot infected and all… yeah, scratch that.”, you mention while slowly backing away from the not so closed freezer door anymore. “Why did you have to say that...”, Sara groans at the sight of people who are clearly infected with the virus. “Karma is a bitch right?”, you ease with an innocent smile while accelerating. “It's not like we haven't run enough today… Come on Mick, let’s go!”. On the run again in a hallway that leads to another hallway, which probably leads to another one. It’s a real maze inside this large basement. The walking dead, who actually walk rather fast, seem to be appearing out of nowhere. Out of every trashed, abandoned room like they were trapped there, patiently waiting for the Legends to arrive.

“I think we've lost them”, you carefully state after a while, being out of breath, and looking over your shoulder real quick. You want to continue running, but a force drags you to the side. Too soon, you lowered your guard. With an ugly fall you land on the cold, wet ground. Pain fills your body, something stings, but you ignore it. When you open your eyes again you stare into a pair of bloodshot red ones, pupils severely dilated and burst veins. The adrenaline level in your body is rising which makes you act fast, now pushing the creature off of you against an old storage rack which topples and lands on your attacker. Struggling to get up, apparently you were pulled into a storage room and got separated from Sara and Mick. “I need to get back…”, you worry, because being all alone out here is not going to make it easier. Leaning against the doorpost as you’d lost balance. You feel light-headed, probably hit your head on the concrete. Hearing Sara and Mick shout your name, well okay, actually only Sara, as they came back looking for you. Taking a few small steps forward, standing in the hallway again and you stop at the sight of Sara and Mick. “What’s wrong? Why are you guys staring at me?”. “Um… (Y/N)...”, Sara falters while pointing at your left arm. “Oh… Fuck”.

With every heartbeat it’s spreading more and more. Through your entire body like poison. Sara freezes, she doesn’t know what to do. That never happens. Why now? Usually she doesn’t need to pay attention to you in a way that you’re able to take care of yourself and know what to do without her telling you. Not like Rory, who needs supervision all the time to be kept in check. Or like Nate and Ray who play around too much. Or Martin, who’s way too stubborn, probably because he’s older and wiser, so he thinks. Being the Captain of this team is hard, but you always seem to make it easier for her. You have each other's back no matter what and are on the same wavelength when it comes to strategy or just messing around. But now you are the one in trouble. You've been bitten. She’s too late. All Sara can do is stare at the bite mark on your arm, resembling a vague dental imprint covered in blood. She failed. You collapse to the floor, landing on your knees and place your hands on your face. What is happening? Breathing frequency rising. Something went off in your brain. You lose control. With a burst of adrenaline you jump up and sprint towards your new prey. Towards Sara, who’s completely paralyzed. She can’t move. Rory steps in front of her to hold you off, but you’re faster than him. You want to hurt them, your team members. Want to bite them, tear them apart. Can’t fight it anymore. With every second counting you lose a piece of yourself, until there's nothing left. Maybe for the better, 'cause you won't be able to look at yourself after this.

Like a loose cannon with a bad temper you grasp Sara by the waist, wrapping your arms around her real painful and knock her to the ground. She’s struggling to get herself free and it hurts. It’s as if your strength has doubled. Your hands move to her neck and you start squeezing hard. With blood red eyes you stare at her. No remorse. No respect. No love. Just pure rage. Your eyes are not the same anymore is what Sara realizes. Not the same eyes that were checking her out earlier at the rooftop exit. Or the same eyes that laugh about her jokes, or the ones that have her back in the most difficult situations, like now. She can’t breath and is hitting your body with her arms over and over again, completely helpless. Rory had gripped onto your shoulders to yank you loose. But it’s of no use since you’re still choking her, not moving a single muscle. Her arms move slower and slower… until a brutal kick from Rory made you let go and launched you against the wall. Coughing while rubbing her throat that was closed off seconds ago, Sara gradually stands up.

“Don't”, is the first word she manages to produce with a sore, aching throat. Intended to stop Rory because he aimed his Heat gun on you, finger on the trigger. He hesitates, wanting to fire, but grunts and eventually lowers the weapon. Though he needs to act fast, as you already bolted towards him, ready to attack. You take hit after hit, but Rory’s punches don’t seem to stop you. Sara needs to flip a switch, get herself together and end this. “Sara! Do something. Now!”, Mick forces as his low voice echoes on the brick walls, desperately trying to hold you back.

“I'm sorry (Y/N)...”. Are the last words you process before it turns dark.

///

“Brains… BRAINS!!”. “No- no, don’t!”, you scream while defensively lifting your arms up to protect your head. The sound of Sara’s voice, and not the most convenient word choice startled you awake, feeling your heartbeat racing in your chest. “Too soon? I was just joking (Y/N)”. “Where- where am I? Am I still alive? And what happened? I don’t remember…”, you stammer. Shaking and carefully turning your head to see where you are as you’re about to panic. Sara reacts fast and grabs your hands to put your restless arms down. “Calm down. Breathe. We’re in the medical bay, back on the Waverider, okay?”, she eases. A soft, caring tone in her voice, trying to reach you by staring into your eyes as she’d moved closer. “My head is pounding like hell. Worst. Hangover. Ever”, you groan while slowly repositioning your legs to sit on the edge of the reclined chair. “Yeah… that might have been my fault…”, Sara admits as she rubs the back of her neck in shame. A heavy blow to the head with a flashlight was needed to knock you out. She had to, there was no other choice. A hopeless sigh leaves your mouth as you bury your face in your hands. You're cured, the anachronism fixed and the world is saved, for now at least. Everything is back to normal again. But it doesn't feel normal. Avoiding eye contact with Sara at all cost, sight trained on the floor. There is no way you’ll be able to look her in the eyes again. Not after what you’ve done. You can still remember pieces. Flashes of you attacking Sara.

“(Y/N)? It’s okay”. Sara lifts your chin up, now seated on a stool in front of you. “Hey, you're okay”. “No it's not. I-”. Your eyes start to get watery. “I hurt you, didn't I? Cause I remember…”, you whisper, examining her broken body. With a trembling hand you near her neck, but can’t bring yourself to touch the red, discolored skin. “Nothing I can't handle”. She blows it off as if it’s a small scratch. “Come on Sara. It's not. I-”. A tear rolls down your cheek while trying your best to fight off the other tears heaping up in the corners of your eyes. Sara gently wipes the teardrop away with her thumb, cupping your face with her right hand. She lifts your head up again and gazes in your sad eyes. “That is my fault. I did that. I went insane, like some crazy animal”, you continue, still refusing to look at her as you shift in a direction other than right in front of you. Not able to forgive yourself, feeling guilty as hell. “No, (Y/N)”. She moves your head back with a bit more force this time, not accepting your pity party, and her blue eyes lock onto yours. “It's okay. You're still here. I'm still here”, she expresses genuinely, “and I heard you.”.

“Huh? You heard me?”, you question with a lost expression. “Yes, on the roof earlier today. Just before the team arrived to pick us up.”. In the process to comprehend what those words mean, still puzzling it all together when you feel a pair of soft lips touching yours. Overwhelmed, but that swiftly changes as you relax and close your eyes. She gets up from the chair and moves her hands away from your cheeks, wrapping both arms around you smoothly. You melt away even more and place your hands around her hips. A soft kiss turns into a more passionate one, as if both were longing for it for some time now. It being highly likely that Sara had these kind of feelings for a while now too. Her warm body is pressed against yours, and you slide your hands up to her waist to hold her even closer. Sara instantly pulled back and makes a soft hissing sound. You moan at the loss of contact before realizing what you just did. “Sorry…”, you apologize, voice laced with guilt, knowing you’re the reason of her bruised ribs. She chuckles lightly, paying no attention to the soreness of her body.

“You know… there might be a remedy, to ease the pain. Didn’t they teach you that in the army, ‘Special Forces’?”, Sara says with a sarcastic tone. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you like the nickname more when Sara says it instead of Mick. “Remedy, huh? You mean this?”. Carefully lifting Sara’s shirt up and you press your lips on the bruised skin. Then softly on the other side. You slowly stand up from the chair and move up to her neck to give an even more gentle kiss. “And where does it hurt the most, Captain?”. Sara looks pleased, and without an answers back, she kisses you on the lips again with a wide smile. At the exact same time Jax walked in. “Woah... just wanted to check on you, (Y/N)”. He awkwardly turns his head away, not knowing where to look. “All good.”, you return with a grin, because in the corner of your eyes you see Sara. Who’s busy straightening her shirt to appear a bit more decent, considering her important role as leader on this ship. “Yeah, I can see that”, he responds while giving you a hug and continues: “The team is waiting in the Captain’s office. To celebrate”. “We'll be right behind you”, you assure Jax, who’s already marching back to the bridge with interesting gossip to deliver.

A muffled groan manages to escape as you take a step, feeling the soreness of all the muscles in your bruised up body. “Gotta let the kids know the old one here is alright”, Sara jokes. Beaten up by Mick and Sara in your zombie-state, which you understand to the fullest. If you were in their shoes, you would’ve done the same thing. Then her smile fades and turns into a more serious expression. “You know… I really thought I lost you there in that basement”, Sara confesses, leaving the medical bay beside you. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see what the next apocalypse brings”, you tease, but Sara is not laughing. “I’m serious, (Y/N)”, she presses. “Yeah I know, sorry”. It’s always easier to make jokes then to think about everything that could’ve gone wrong. You were scared as hell. Scared to die. But even more scared of being the cause of the death of one of your teammates. “I can't lose you”, Sara whispers, squeezing your hand lightly. You lock eyes with Sara and stare into hers deeply. “Never”, you promise, as Sara sends you a loving smile in return. Both continue walking and a wide grin appears on your face. Turning to the left, you punch Sara’s shoulder playfully and say:

“You ain't getting rid of me that easily”.

167 notes · View notes

tropicalfreckles · 4 years

Text

Friends Again CH 2

MASTER LIST found here B**TLEB*BES DNI

Summary: Lydia wasn’t sure what to expect, but prepared herself best she could as that familiar figure filled her bedroom with smoke and fire.

WARNINGS: They talk about trauma briefly and Lydia impaling Beej

Lydia raised her voiced the third time, feeling the air around her becoming heavy. Books and knickknacks flew off her bookshelf, clothes flew out of her dresser. A gust of wind flowed through the room out of thin air whipping her hair around. The lights in her room flickered as a fog crept from under her dresser and bed. It swirled with a vibrant green glow that crackled from the floorboards, becoming more intense as the force of the wind joined it. An eerie cackle bounced off the walls of her room. Lydia was glad she raised the volume on her music earlier. Just as a thunderous boom rattled the windowpane of her bedroom, the fog exploded in a light show and floating before her eyes was the demon.

Just as she remembered him. Though right now he was floating above her floor looking a little bewildered, yet elated with a malevolent grin plastered across his face. He scoped the room out as his body vibrated a little. Jagged, yellow teeth. His dirty disheveled striped suit. That electric, messy green hair bleeding into the brown roots that met his forehead. The moss still growing on the side of his face. Those sunken in eyes, wild as ever. He hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room with him.

“Hooollllyyyy shiit! Someone actually summoned me! I’m out of that piles of paperwork, bureaucratic hellhole! FREEDOM! FREEE-EEEEDDOOOMMM!” That raspy voice rang out as his fingers rung through that grimy, soft hair of his. He was so ecstatic that he jumped right into being destructive when his eyes darted to the curtains. With a swipe of his hand it lit ablaze and he turned to do more mischief next. Lydia panicked, jumping off her bed as she grabbed at her pillow and threw it at his head to get his attention.

“Put that fire out, you dumbass!” She hissed pointing the water gun at him. The joy that was once displayed across the demon’s features now was replaced with a more complex one after he looked down. Shock hit him fast. The flames that began to engulf her curtains died out. He let gravity plant his ass right on the floor. Lydia followed his body with her gun never letting up her stance.

“You? You.. You.” His voice cracked at first. Then became more gravelly and hoarse on the last ‘you’ he managed to croak out. Realization hit like a trucker ramming into fresh roadkill when he noticed which house he was in. Staring up at the girl he once called his friend, his hands balled up into fists as he furrowed his brow. Streaks of blue, purple, and red shot out from his hair a vibrant mix of colors betraying him with it’s display of his emotions. He inhaled deeply as he went to stand up. Lydia stomped her foot down, causing him to flinch for a moment. Beetlejuice stayed where he was instead.

“No! St.. stay there.” She frowned. His gaze traveled down to stare at the water gun. A guttural laugh ripped from him as he gave her a snort, shaking his head.

“What’re you gonna do? Get my suit wet? Please. A little bit of water ain’t gonna hurt me. Even if I rather stay dry.” He mumbled, crossing his arms as he eyed her up and down. Clicking her tongue, Lydia rolled her shoulders.

“It’s holy water! Look, I..” A flash of guilt hit her causing her expression to soften for a moment. “…I just want to talk.” She awkwardly shuffled her feet around a little. Beetlejuice’s shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes, giving a heavy sigh.

“…alright, I’ll give ya ten minutes, kid. Then I’m outta here; now that I’m summoned I rather be any place than here.” He mumbled. Lydia took a step closer to him. In response he shuffled away from her. She opted to sit down then where she was, so she could look at him at eye level. He was curious why she would even want him near her after everything that happened. He’d never admit it but he did feel the tiniest, smallest bit of guilt for what he did to her. Alright he did actually feel guilty. Even though he felt she was a little selfish which he usually valued in a person. I mean really who chooses a mother over their own friend? Most people, probably. However he still had a smidgen of a grudge about it. She was still fun to hang out with though and treated him nice in her own way. Nicer than anyone ever had been to him, in fact, as pathetic as that was. She even gave him a hug. The colors in his hair slowly faded back to his usual green though small streaks of blue were still branched out from his roots. Lydia seemed to be struggling with starting with whatever she had to say to him. BJ knitted his brows feeling a little anxious himself, though opted to be patient once in his life and let her speak when ready. Still had the gun pointed at him; that was fair with their track record.

“So.. I just.” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. This was hard. This was harder than she thought it would be.

“..I. I wanted to start off by saying, that. I’m not sorry about doing what I did. I couldn’t let you hurt everyone. I was mad that you almost made me get rid of Barbara. I was hurt that you betrayed me, I told you I just wanted to get my mom back. We could’ve gone back to scaring people after I figured it out. I was hurting, I missed her. I know.. it’s a sore subject for you. I get why parents are something that make you upset after meeting Juno. But, my mom was nice.. I love her.” Her arm begins to tremble a little.

"I am sorry for being the reason you had to see Juno again. I’m sorry she tried getting rid of you for good. You’re not a screw up, or a fool.. I just.“ She teared up a little, feeling everything she has been holding back for months begin to creep up on her.

He could just use this opportunity to split. It was uncomfortable dealing with an emotional teen. Plus she was talking about his mother the person he hated the most in any existence. A nagging feeling was keeping him there however. Something about watching this girl. That enjoyed scaring almost as much as he did, crying. It hurt a little for some reason. He rubbed the bridge of his nose when he heard her crying pick up, becoming harder. She hiccuped a little and it was annoying.

"Okay, okay; no water works kid, please. Also it’s kinda hard to hear you over that music.” He snapped his fingers and the music turned down just a little. He sighed, glad that her attention came back to him when he spoke.

“Take your time if you gotta. I suck at reading people outside of scaring them. It looks like this had been bothering you for a while. Don’t rush through it.” He mumbled not really knowing how to comfort her. “This the reason you summoned me?” He asked while leaning back as his hands moved behind him to hold his weight. Lydia nodded, wiping some tears away.

“It’s. It’s more complicated than that… ever since you left. I’ve been having nightmares..” Lydia’s voice gave out near the end of her sentence.

Nightmares usually were fun so he didn’t understand what the problem was. Although he knew breathers some times had nightmares about things that were really shitty. Maybe it was that. He motioned for her to continue.

“I don’t know if. If it’s guilt, or my trauma, but.. I never killed someone before. I don’t really want to do it again either. It was.. it was scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced before.” Her voice trailed off barely an audible whisper. She set the water gun down now that she was sure he wasn’t going to do anything.

Even though he wasn’t usually around ankle biters. He had some understanding that while murder was fun for him, that would take a toll on a kid. It was different than him killing for her. She actually killed for herself. He grimaced a little, unconsciously grabbing at his chest where she had impaled him. Lydia had noticed this however and balled her hands into fists while she gripped her dress.

“If this is too hard for you, you can leave.” Lydia spoke up again staring up into his eyes.

Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t scared of this kid. He didn’t need any pity. Although maybe she did just want him to feel comfortable. Why was she being so considerate? They never really were friends, right? Even if he thought so. He snorted, waving her off.

“Kid, I’m fine. So, what’s this nightmare.” He fixed his composure, tightening his tie.

Lydia shrugged as she looked for anything else to focus her gaze on. This next part was going to be hard. She didn’t want to open up to him but she no longer wished to feel dread whenever she slept. The nightmares had to come to an end. She wanted to move on with her life.

"The nightmares are all the same one, actually. It’s the day I killed you. It starts of as it actually did. You talking about how life was too much to handle. Getting ready to murder someone because you couldn’t process it. Then, me stabbing you. After that though, everyone starts to turn into weird blobs. You and I are the only ones that still have a shape. Everything fades into a dark abyss. Mouths appear out of no where, laughing in a creepy way at us. Blood pours from their mouths..“ She starts listing the things off on her fingers. She was having trouble keeping up with what she was saying unable to make eye contact with him. Beetlejuice tensed a little when she mentioned murdering him, thinking of course she has to talk more about it.

"Then your mom is there. She’s holding you up, like you’re her captive or something. Then a sandworm eats us. That part got kind of weird. Even compared to the rest of the nightmare.” She mumbled. Finally she manages to look back up at him. Beetlejuice was leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands in his lap. He was staring right at her.

“Well fuck, Lyds; that is a lot to unpack.” He moved a hand up to stroke his chin. Not really sure what to say in the moment. He needed to collect his thoughts. When he noticed her fidgeting in place, tears brimming her eyes again, he didn’t want her to cry. Beetlejuice crossed his arms as he sat up straight.

"Alright.. so. Dreaming about killing me, which, I gotta admit; now that I’ve had time to mull it over the past couple of months I’m impressed. You successfully manipulated me by agreeing to help me be alive. Then killed me so you could send me back to the Netherworld. Haven’t been tricked by a breather like you before.“ He gave a small smirk almost proud that the first person that agreed to help him scare in a long, long time could have a conniving side.

"We should probably get to the bare bones of the matter.” He clapped his hands together and a bunch of bones came into existence. Clattering onto the floor around them. Lydia jumped a little then stared at them, trying not to let out a small snicker. Good, laughs, that was something he could work with to try and cheer her up.

“Fiiiirrssst, even though I am impressed you killed me and fair enough since I was being kind of an ass…” Before he could finish his sentence Lydia had chimed in with a quip.

“I’d say more than kind of. You did threaten me and my family to get me to do a green card marriage.” She quirked a brow, her fingers tapping on the ground as she gave him an unamused look.

“Alright. That was shitty of me.” He conjured a white flag waving it in peace as he heaved a dramatic sigh.

"For real I’m sorry I did that. It wasn’t cool and came off pretty sketchy. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t like being alone. So I panicked because I thought you were going to ditch me.“ The purple in his hair began to creep back and Lydia just gave him an understanding look to let him know he could continue.

"Unfortunately the only way to bring a ghost alive again is to marry them. I should’ve weighed my options better. I’m.. uh..” He gagged a little as he tried to form the words, having a hard time. Saying sorry was one thing, yet doing a heart-felt apology made it feel like he was going to combust.

“Gimme a sec..” He slapped his face, his head spinning around on his neck comically in a 360 spin as he came to his senses. When he was done being a ham he looked back to her.

“I’m deeply apologetic about what I did. Normally I take being creepy as a compliment, however out of context of what I was trying to do it’s super…” He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Fucking creepy and not in the good way. Even in context it’s still shitty.” He mumbled. “Having a talk with Miss Argentina made me realize that. When I heard it outloud for the first time after the fact. I swear I didn’t meant to come off that way, though.” Beetlejuice raised his hand as if doing a mock boy scouts honor salute.

“Oh, that nice ghost lady I met in the Netherworld..” Lydia leaned back against her bed, feeling like she could relax a little finally.

"Well. You actually sound sincere, which is weird since your voice always drips with sarcasm or something like that.“ She looked away for a moment as if contemplating something. ”..I know you said that you were impressed. However.. did killing you hurt you? Like, besides the obvious.“ Her gaze drifted back to him.

"Hurt me? I mean, yeah, it would fuckin’ hurt getting bad art impaled through a meatsack body.” He thought more on what she said then it dawned on him. She meant if it hurt his feelings. He ran a hand through his ever-shifting array of colorful hair trying to figure out how he should respond. Sure it did kind of did hurt his feelings. Yet it’s like he said, the situation he forced her in was pretty shitty. She also mentioned she wasn’t sorry for what she did to him. She was still being nice at least. Maybe those dweeby Maitlands rubbed off on her a bit. Even though he only knew her a brief time the Lydia he knew before probably wouldn’t have given too much a shit about this. While she was fun and sort of nice to him when they scared people. She still easily jumped to kill him.

"Eh. Maybe just a bit. However I already said I probably deserved it. It’s better that I’m dead anyways. Being human was hard. Even if it was just for like four minutes, or less.“ He counted off on his hand.

"Okay..” She looked him over, unsure if she should continue. Wanting to get back to the topic on hand she cleared her throat. “So, about the dream..” Beeltejuice took his hand, pounding a fist into the other one.

“Right, right. The thing you summoned me here for in the first place. Yeah.. so, blood, my shit mom, sandworm. I ain’t really a shrink, Lyds. So what I’m gonna say next is probably gonna be some bullshit. Like.. I don’t know, is it a guilt dream? Why’d you tell me about it?” He was still unsure about some things that were going on her. Though he tried to give his best bet. Lydia shook her head as she grabbed onto her feet, tilting forward.

“I already kind of understand what the dream means now thanks to my therapist. What I called you here for is I wanted you to hear it. I wanted you to know how I feel. What we all went through together and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it. Also how you felt about how we ended things. I did the apology I felt like you needed and I told you what I wasn’t sorry for. I kind of feel a little better. Although I still feel like crying a lot, too.” She moved her hands away to wipe as her face again.

"It’s… so overwhelming. I’m.. I’m scared, Beej.“ Lydia softly spoke, admitting finally what she was afraid to say. Beetlejuice was stumped. She actually admitted for the first time to him ever she was afraid. Not of him, he was sure of that at least. Of what he wasn’t sure. The nightmare itself? It’s meaning? He really did suck at this. He grumbled a little then began to drift off the ground, floating into the air to move closer to her. He plopped himself down next to her. Startling her a little as she jumped from him. He raised his hands up in defense quick to respond.

"Hey, hey, wait; don’t be.. uh. Scared. Just…” He began to hesitantly wrap an arm around her before realizing he probably should ask.

“Uh.. this okay?” He asked, staring at her as he kept his arm in mid air. Lydia stared at his arm then at him. She wrinkled her nose from the smell of his unwashed suit along with the earthly-dirt scent that lingered off his body. The sentiment he was offering had to have been tough for him to do and it showed he actually cared about how she felt. She gave just a small nod and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He moved his other around around her front and gave her a small hug then patted her back.

"I don’t actually know what you’re scared of kid. Although I’ve gotta say I’m hurt I’m not scary enough for you.“ Beetlejuice gave a mock-hurt tone to the end of his sentence as to try and lighten the mood. Lydia surprisingly clung to him as she let out a soft whimper. His shoulders dropped as he started to let go of her, only to be stopped when he felt her tighten the hug. She began crying again. He lost count how many times this made now. She buried her face into his chest, sniffling as she curled up in his arms. He wanted to just phase out of the room yet opted to stay since it seemed like she needed this. He rested his chin on top of her head as he just let her continue to sob.

"I hate this. I hate feeling… this scared. It’s-it’s so suffocating. Why does this hurt? Why do I feel horrible.” She managed to choke out. Beetlejuice tensed while she spoke.

“Wish I knew, kid; my specialty is scaring, not helping people stop feeling scared. But ya got a good support system Lydia. Those sexy, nerdy Maitlands actually nutted up to try and protect you. Your dad chased after you into the Netherworld when you ran off. That Delilah chick probably cares about you too.” He tried thinking up everyone that she actually had in her life that cared. He wish he had that. Wish he had someone who loved and cared about him. It was a hard concept to wrap his head around, he always felt like he never deserved it. Lydia shook her head, looking up at him finally.

“Her name is Delia, not Delilah. You know, it’s weird. She actually does.” She sniffled, smiling softly.

“You weren’t there for that part. Since your mom kind of tossed you out. Delia threw herself in front of me, saying that she wanted to protect me when Juno was threatening to drag me back to the Netherworld. Ever since then she’s been trying her best to understand me. Even if I’m not the warmest to her sometimes. I appreciate the effort at least. I know she’s isn’t faking it.” Lydia patted his side, indicating he could let her go as she sat back again. Beetlejuice moved his hand to rub the back of his neck.

“You know for someone who says he sucks at comforting, you didn’t do that bad of a job.” She gave him a tired smile, then picked up the water gun again. He eyed it bit warily. She tossed it away then gently nudged him. “Can you believe I was gonna blast your face with that?” That made him crack a grin then gave her a snicker.

“Yeah that probably wouldn’t have done much, anyways. Other than make me slightly clean.” He stuck his tongue out.

“Well, it might’ve stung a little. I don’t know. I haven’t had holy water thrown on me before, if you would believe that. It’s rare I scare priests. It’s a hoot when I do even if it’s never in a church. Those places are waaaay too stuffy.” He rolled his eyes. He snapped his head back to her. “So, I actually helped ya..?” His tone shifted to a more softer one. She nodded giving his shoulder a pat.

“You did; I never thought I would actually hug you again. Oh.. that reminds me.” She got up, walking over to her nightstand. He floated off the ground once more so he could peer over the bed to see. She pulled out from the small cubby under the drawer of her nightstand, a cowboy hat. She held it up as she turned around to show him.

“I still have this. I don’t know why I kept it, honestly. Guess deep down I couldn’t let a piece of you go. I did hate you for a while. I’m not sure if I can forgive you for everything. Although.. it means a lot that you apologized. Maybe one day.” She walked over, motioning for him to float up a little higher as she set the cowboy hat on his head.

“Maybe we could be friends again, some day. I’m not sure. I thought this exchange was going to go a lot differently.” He gawked a little. A warm feeling hit him, as he moved his hand up and felt his hat.

'Be friends again? Is she serious? Why doesn’t she hate me. It’s okay if she hates me, I’m used to people hating me. She kept my hat, though. I just gave it to her as a sign of peace. Even if I was still a little mad. Did she really care about me, then?’ What she told him seemed impossible. He felt like life was just fucking with him again. There’s no way she would ever forgive him he just didn’t deserve anything good. As if sensing sort of what he was thinking, she poked his nose.

“Listen, I’m not a shrink either. However I think you have a problem with self esteem. I can’t fix that right now. I meant what I said to you. I do appreciate what you said to me, how you tried comforting me. I would’ve liked if you didn’t toss all my shit everywhere when you got here though.” She looked around the room, putting her hands on her hips as she sighed.

"You’re lucky you didn’t break my camera. It’s a family heirloom from my mom.“ Beetlejuice looked around the room, then gave a small laugh.

"Hey you know me, Lyds; I gotta make an entrance! It feels nice to be out of the Netherworld. I had to stretch my legs.” He turned his head back to grin at her. There was a worm she hadn’t noticed before wiggling in-between his teeth and she stuck her tongue out. There’s that weird, gross charm of his. She flicked his forehead causing him to scowl. He rubbed where she snapped her fingers against his clam-y flesh. She motioned to her room when his attention was drawn back to her.

"I know you can bend reality or whatever it is your demon powers do. Please clean my room, I don’t feel like doing it because I’m tired.“ Lydia politely requested. Beetlejuice groaned yet didn’t complain as with a flick of his wrists. Everything began to move back into place. The curtains were no longer fire-damaged, her clothes went back neatly into her dresser and her books were slid neatly into the shelves. Even the random bones he conjured up were gone. She gave him a pleased smile along with a thumbs up. He flipped her off which just made her laugh. He couldn’t help but join her in her laugh. He tipped his hat to her then looked towards the window a moment later.

”..so, that all you needed, kid? Guess… we part ways again?“ He looked back to her a tinge of sadness edged at the end of his words. She rubbed her arm as she looked towards the window as well. She walked around him and the bed, then opened the curtains to see it was raining now.

"I guess so. You did say you wanted to get away from here, right?” She looked over her shoulder at him. He pursed his lips then tapped his fingers against his chin.

"Yeah that was the deal. I hear you out, then be on my way..“ He sighed then floated over towards her and the window. He placed a hand on the glass, staring off into the distance. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about him yet she knew she wasn’t really scared of him. Even though he was acting off for how he normally was. Maybe he wanted closure as much as she did? He couldn’t come back on his own before so she hoped this was good for him. She playfully nudged him with her elbow.

"I mean; even though you probably shouldn’t show yourself around the house. I wouldn’t mind if you came back to my room some times. If you wanna try to build up trust again or something. If you don’t hate me. It’s kind of nice having someone I can weirdly relate to that isn’t a parental figure. Someone I can talk to about this.” He looked over to her then scratched his head.

"I don’t know. Pretty sure everyone would hate it if they saw-wait. Did you summon me without telling anyone about it?“ He slowly became aware of the very lack of parental supervision as he peered over to her bedroom door. There was no way the Maitlands nor her parents would’ve let him near her without them being around. She inhaled sharply, staring a little bug-eyed down at the ground while pressing her lips together. Shit.

"Uh.. maybe.” She mumbled. He looked to her. Then let out a bellowing laughter, slapping her hard on the back.

"Well! Look at you, you little rebel! Ahhhh shit. Part of me feels like messing with the Maitlands again. Unfortunately for me they probably would try to send me back to the Netherworld.“ He grimaced then looked back to the window. "I’m not so sure if it would be safe to keep coming back here. However, other breathers are usually boring as hell. You were pretty fun. As long as the others don’t find out I guess I wouldn’t mind stopping in every so often. Maybe we could even scare together again.” His eyes flashed a mischievous glow as he gave her an malevolent smirk. She gave him an wicked smile back.

"I probably am gonna have to tell them about you eventually. It’s kind of hard to hide all this.“ She motioned to him knowing how much of a show off he could be. He nodded.

"Eh it’s true; we’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it.” He stretched out a little. Taking the cowboy hat off he slapped it onto her head. She stumbled a little, giving him a small scowl.

“Well how about you hold onto this, lil scarecrow. So I have a reason to come back. Now if you’ll excuse me. I wanna go stretch my legs and scare the shit out of some Karen in her forties while she’s kicking back, sipping on her wine box.” He grinned while ringing his dirty hands together.

"I’ll be back later, Lyds!“ He cackled, then dashed off, phasing through her wall and disappearing into the stormy night. She placed her hand on the window, staring off at nothing now as she fixed the hat on her head.

"See you soon, Dorothy.” She decided it was finally time for that nap.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #chaos siblings #my writings #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice musical

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desiredposion · 4 years

Text

2.1 In My Time of Dying

(AN: this is from my barely updated SPN book on wattpad called Idjits so excuse the mess. also i know it isn’t the greatest but i wanted to get into a bit of writing so oh well)

2.1

Hey Ry, it's me Sam. Listen there was this accident and I... well... it's Dean. They don't think he's gonna make it. Could you please just call me back? We need you.

The voice message sent panic flooding through the young girls system. Thoughts that her brother might die and she wasn't with him without the chance to say goodbye. Throwing on random clothes that were scattered across the floor, she scrambled down the rickety old stairs.

"Took you long enough kid, now lets go we've got to pick up the Impala before some junky sees the type of mojo your brothers are packing." Bobby says, keys in hand walking towards the front door grabbing his jacket on the way out. Running after him practically ripping the jacket of the hook, breathing heavy with fear. She spent the entire drive head against the window and tear-filled eyes though she'd never let Bobby or anyone else see them, not because she didn't want to seem weak in front of the Uncle figure but because the tears where for Dean and Dean wouldn't want his sister to cry for him.

"Pick your chin up and wipe your eyes sunshine, we're almost there." Waking up from her reverie she did exactly what he said looking in the cracked sun visor mirror. "Deep breath and a brave face princess."

Getting out of the truck Riley made eye contact with Sam but quickly diverted them to the clouds which at the moment were much more interesting. As the boys made small talk she found herself having to block out the details of the crash as to not start crying again.

"Oh man, Dean's gonna be pissed."

"Look Sam, this... this ain't worth a tow. I say we empty the trunk, sell the rest for scrap." Bobby said lightly shaking his head.

"No Bobby. Dean would kill you if that happened. When he gets better, he's gonna want to fix it."

"There's nothing to fix Ry. The frames a pretzel, and the engine's ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging" the older man said with a heavy sigh.

"Listen to me Bobby. If there's even one working part, that's enough. We're not gonna give up on him!" Sam states bringing notice to the fact that this car represents everything Dean is. A little broken but ultimately fix-able with just a little tender loving care.

"Okay. You got it." The older said quietly as he looked upon the two younger Winchester siblings who subconsciously moved closer together during their time of talking, allowing for this moment to tug at his cold (but not really) heart.

"Here, uhm, John asked for you to get this stuff for him." Sam said holding a piece of paper to Bobby.

"What does Da...John. What does John want with this?" Riley asked looking over Bobby's shoulder and taking special note of all the carefully chosen items on the list.

"Protection from the demon?" He shrugged, "what?"

"Nothing, it's just uhm..." she trail off trying to find the right words and sharing a look with Bobby.

"Riley? Bobby? What's going on?"

----------

"So are you at least going to tell me her name?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on Sam" Riley sighed from the passenger seat of a probably stolen car, "I may be young but I am not stupid."

"Hey I never said you were stupid! But there is no girl." Although the younger sibling had caught the underlying sadness in his voice.

"Maybe not now, but there was someone wasn't there?"

"No! No there wasn't... when did you get to be so smart?" Sam sighed feeling a little defeated

"High School tends to do that to a person" she joked. "No, I can just tell. The same way I knew about Mary before John told me, and the same goes for Bobby. It takes a little piece of your heart and there's something about that that leaves a mark, maybe not everyone can see it but it's there and well I'm here for you Sammy."

"Thank you Riley, that means alot to me really." He said taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his sister in admiration "now do you want to hear about the time I had to rescue Dean's ass from a Pagan God?"

"OMG tell me!"

----------

Sam marches into the hospital duffle bag slung over his shoulder and Riley hot on his trail nervous about the upcoming storm between her brother and father.

"You don't have to stay with me Ry, go see Dean make your peace."

"Dean's not going anywhere Sam, I wont let him die!" Sam sighed, feeling an overwhelming urge to protect his sister from the harsh reality of Dean's condition.

"Yeah okay, just go see him please? It'll make him feel better."

Riley sighed but nodded anyway following his directions to their brothers room. Ignoring the calls made by her father and the loud angry talking that always seemed to present whenever Sam talked to John, she soon found herself standing in the doorway of Dean's room.

"I guess I'll start the conversation then," Riley lamely joked, taking a seat next to the hospital bed "okay tough crowd."

"You know I never got why people always sit and pour their hearts out to a person who can't even hear them, like why can't they just say those things when the person is awake and healthy? You should know Dean I never kept my thoughts and feelings to myself, I guess that's why he got rid of me wasn't it? Did he ever even tell you guys why I had to go away or was that another of his many secrets? I guess it was because he couldn't decide, I wasn't his perfect little solider so I was of no use to him; yet he just wanted to keep me safe and protect me like he couldn't protect your mother or mine."

The girl slouched further into the chair picking at the loose stitching of her jacket. "I shouldn't be complaining to you about all of this, hell Bobby's heard enough of it." The awkward laugh and frown that adorned her teary face was enough to make the heart of Dean's spirit drop to the pit of his stomach.

They weren't the closest of siblings, John had made sure that they wouldn't get to attached during their times together, didn't want Dean to be distracted during hunts with thoughts of his brother and sister. Riley was at one point John's pride and joy keeping her safe was always his number one priority.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I see why he did it but I just wish things could've been different, you know? But Dean you've gotta pull through I still love you, I still need you!" It was almost as if her words had flipped a switch when Dean's heart monitor starting going crazy and Riley doesn't think she has ever been as scared in her entire life.

The screaming from the broken girl and the beeping from the hospital machines alerted nurses and soon there was people surrounding Dean trying to resuscitate him. A sobbing Riley was quickly pulled into her brother, Sam's arms which proved pointless to try and escape from. The girl could barely hear the chorus of 'no's' and 'it's okays' that escaped his lips as she buried her head in his chest allowing her emotions to take over her body.

After what felt like years but would've only been seconds the monitor slows and the room goes quite. The room lets out a collective sigh of relief when the Nurse says "We have a pulse. We're back to sinus rhythm."

Still Riley doesn't let go of her lifeline.

----------

It was a while after Dean's near death incident when Riley finally found herself able to walk out of his room without having a panic attack. The young Winchester had found herself trying to wash away dried tears from her cheeks, unable to remove the redness or puffiness that seemed to be a permanent addition to her once bright eyes. A knock at the door startled her before calling out "I'll be done in a minute." The knocking came again this time more loud and insistent, "I said I'll be done in a minute!"

"Riley it's me Sam, come on I found something that might help." Riley was quick to rip open the door separating them looking to the man in front of her in eager suspense. Sam was clutching a brown paper bag tightly in his arms making the smaller girl look at him in confusion, before she could utter a word however Sam was quick to walk the short distance to Deans room murmuring a quick 'don't ask' before stepping in and urging her to hurry up and close the door. Riley does what he asked checking the hallways to see if anyone was following or watching them, a quick glance to the hospital bed proves the Dean was still in his unconscious state much to her dismay. A sigh left her lips seeing Sam take a seat on the floor pulling out a rectangular box labelled 'Mystical Talking Board' setting it up whilst muttering to himself.

"An Ouija board? Really Sam?"

"Cut the crap just sit down and trust me."

Throwing her hands up in slight frustration Riley sat down next to him, placing her hands on the triangular pointer in the middle of the board "You know this is a stupid hoax thing right? What is this even for? Dean is in a coma not the... other option."

"Riley just shush for a moment. Dean? Dean are you there?" The room goes quite and Riley slowly raises her eyebrows at her brother, however before she can let off another smart comment she feels her her hand, or more specifically the planchette move towards the word yes. A gasp left the Winchesters lips eyes staring at the blank space across from where Sam was sitting.

"It's good to hear from you man, hasn't been the same without you." He laughs shoulders slumping in relief, looking at Riley with the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his lips at her shocked expression.

"Did you move that to mess with me?" She asks voice wobbling her sunken eyes blown wide. Trembling hands made for unstable fingers and the planchette moved again, Riley was scared that she was unconsciously moving it but was quick to think different when it starting sliding over particular letters of the displayed alphabet.

"Dean what? H. U. Hunt? Hunting?" Riley shrugs her shoulders at Same who looked at her as though she held the answers "are you hunting?" The planchette moves to the 'yes'. "What are hunting? Do you know what it is? What is it?"

"One question at a time Sam, you know how this works,"

R. E. A. P.

"a reaper? Dean is it after you?"

'yes'

"Sam if it's here naturally you know there is no way to stop it."

"There has to be a way Riley, how do you even know about all this you haven't been hunting with Bobby have you?"

"You can't kill death Sam and no I haven't but that doesn't mean I can't keep reading lore and learning how to protect myself." Her tone was defensive, ready to defend herself and her Uncle for how she was raised.

"You're right. You should know how to protect yourself, but you should also know how to protect others and that's what I'm trying to do here. Protect Dean. There's gotta be a way... Dad'll know." Sam trials off towards the end before putting his plan action and running off down the hallway to where presumably John's room was located. Leaving Riley to clean up his mess she calls for Dean one more time.

"Are you still there Dean?"

'yes'

"I love you and I'm sorry about how I acted back at Bobby's house. Stay safe okay?"

'yes'

A smile graces her lips before she closes the board and packs it away hiding the box from sight just as a nurse enters to check up on the Winchester siblings.

----------

Riley leaves the room to give the brothers some time together she finds herself in front of a vending machine down the hall, after almost losing her food to the faulty snack machine Riley slumps into one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs feeling the weight of the last few hours catch up on her body.

Feeling a presence sit in the chair directly next to her, Riley lifts her head and opens her eyes to get a glance at the feet of the foreign body and the empty row of chairs they could've occupied instead of the one right next to her. A deep sigh both their lips at seemingly the same time as an awkward silence surrounded them, "Riley please look at me" the voice pleaded giving away their identity.

"Whats there to say?"

"Riley... look I'm, I'm just sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen or for us to get to this point." John was now facing his body towards that of the young girls ducking his head to try and look in her eyes.

"Yeah but it did, and you can't take it back," she replied more tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "and I wish I didn't still have to feel the hurt of that day but I do and I'm sorry that I couldn't just be the perfect daughter that you asked for. But I am not a soldier John and it was unfair that you put me through that, that you put those boys through it. I found a place that I can fit in with all of this mess but god it really sucked finding out that everything you were taught to believe is a lie. You can't just give me a family then rip it out from under me dad!"

The older man felt his heart shattering at her words, the first time she has called him that in years and it screams pain. It was no secret to the Winchester family that Riley was not biologically related, more so adopted by John after failing to protect the young ones mother from a horrible vampire attack. Her dad being turned then released home much to the nest amusement. John had spent a few days with the mother and daughter duo trying to track down her husbands whereabouts and in the mean time finding a little soft spot for then 3 year old. Riley always knew that something had taken her parents away and John had told her that they were military and had died in action, but one night not long before Sam ended up leaving for Stanford the youngest of the Winchesters was allowed on a small werewolf hunt with her family instead of being cooped up in a motel room. Everything was pretty cut and dry until Riley got hurt and John freaked out spilling what happened to her real parents on the way to Bobby's house were she was left to 'heal' as they dealt with the rest of the pack.

Although John never came back to get her and Riley was left to deal with the grief of losing two sets of family in one day. Although Riley forgives him for what happened to her mother and father, shes finding it hard to forgive him for just leaving her when he got scared.

"I'm so sorry Riley, I just got so so scared. I couldn't imagine reliving that pain again, I love you. No matter what you are my daughter and I will always love you, but Riley I need you to forgive me and understand that I just couldn't bare to see you hurt. I'm so sorry squirt." John's voice broke as he spoke and Riley couldn't find it in her to hold a grudge against him anymore. Launching herself into her fathers arms it was although the bond between the two broken hearts were finally repairing. Images of hope for the future swarmed Riley's brain as unbeknownst to her a father was holding his daughter for the last time. "I love you Riley Winchester."

"I love you too Dad, I love you too."

----------

Riley left with Sam to get to John a cup of coffee whilst he talked to Dean, Riley could hardly believed that he just healed in a blink of an eye. "So just like that then?"

"Yeah just like that, I mean any internal contusions are healed, the edema's vanished and his vitals are strong other then a few bumps and bruises its almost like nothing had ever happened in the first place. I got to say Ry whatever happened, whatever did this they're really looking out for Dean."

"Yeah I guess so. Hey I'm just going to go give Bobby a heads up, say hi to Dean then I'll meet you back in Dad's room okay?" After receiving a brief head nod and a pat on the back from her brother, Riley found herself standing by a window looking out at the clear skies and green grass a sense of comfort washing over her. Dishing her old phone out of her pocket she dialed the number she had remembered off by heart within the first month of living with the older man.

"Hey Bobby, yeah we're okay... Dean's better now... yes I'm fine to. Hey Bobby? I talked to him... yeah I think we're better now... no I didn't forget that he just up and left me, but I do understand why he did what he did... okay, thank you Bobby. If it's all the same to you I'd still like to live with you tho... Thank you Uncle... I'll be sure to tell him that." The smile that had plastered itself onto Riley's face was faltering when she saw a bunch of nurses run past her and down the hall, curiosity got the best of her as she slowly made her way in their direction, heart plummeting when she noticed it was John's room. She didn't even hang up on Bobby as she approached the doorway near her brothers.

"Still no pulse." A nurse said directing her sentence to the crowd of colleges surrounding her fathers body. "Okay that's it everybody." A doctor said stopping chest compression, "I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 a.m." Just like that Riley's world stopped for the second time that day.

"Dad?"

feedback is always appreciated xx

#supernaturalxsister!reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #sam winchester #deanwinchester #supernatural x reader #supernaturalfic #bobby #baby the impala #supernatural reader insert

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thatsouthernanthem · 5 years

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soooo i wrote a fic for staci & maddy and decided that everyone should see it. actually, @lacedwithlilacs demanded everyone see it sooooo yeah!!

title: the best of you, the rest of you, honey belongs to me rated: explicit fandom: far cry 5 pairing: staci pratt x deputy (madalynn forrester)

She allows herself a smirk as she watches Rook follow Joey up the stairs before knocking back another shot of whiskey. They deserve a moment of happiness and Joey looks ten times better than she did when Maddy and Rook had split up and headed for the other Heralds.

Maddy catches the falter in Rook’s step though, and the way Joey reaches out for him, her hand sliding around his arm to make sure he doesn’t fall. He looks about as well as you’d expect for someone who spent weeks at a time, for months, being tortured by Jacob Seed. She shudders and wiggles her empty shot glass at Mary May, sick at herself once again, for not getting there sooner.

A body crowds into her space, huddling against her arm in the dim light, and though she can’t hear the words his lips are whispering to himself over the noise of the bar, Maddy can tell that Staci Pratt is close to having a breakdown. She catches a quiet strong, no weak, and carefully wraps her fingers around his wrist to catch his attention.

“Hey,” she murmurs, pulling him down so his ear is by her lips. “Let’s go upstairs, just hang out where it’s quieter.” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning to Mary May and pointing at the bottle of whiskey behind the blonde. “Add it to my tab?”

“If I was keepin’ tabs right now, Forrester,” Mary May grins as she slides the bottle and two glasses down the bar, “you’d be owin’ me for a long time. But hell, I owe you so it’ll all be even.”

Maddy mouths her thanks before grabbing the bottle around the neck and pressing the glasses into Staci’s shaking hands. “Hold onto these for me, ‘kay? We gotta pretend to be classy, at least for the first few drinks.”

His shoulders relax, just a tiny bit, and he huffs a soft noise she thinks might be a laugh. All that matters is when he looks at her, under his too-long hair, his hazel eyes are clearer than they were a moment ago.

They wind their way through the crowd--the bar extra full of the friends they made in the Henbane River Valley and the Whitetails, full of the Resistance and Militia members who want to celebrate the end of Jacob Seed. She catches a glimpse of Nick and Kim in the corner, baby Carmina in her carseat on the table before them and she can’t blame them for bringing the four month old to the bar, not when you can’t let those you love out of your sight. She’s surprised when she skirts around Eli and Tammy--shocked that they’d leave the Wolf’s Den, even though the area is safer than it has been in years.

Eli grins at her and lifts his beer in her direction, sliding his arm around Tammy’s back as he tries to pull her toward the crowded dance floor--Maddy can hear her protests over the thumping beat of Dorothy’s Raise Hell.

Staci presses his hand into hers, pushing his clammy palm into hers, and she’s quick to grab his fingers, to squeeze reassuringly. Glancing over her shoulder as she starts up the stairs, she meets his eyes and smiles at him. “You okay? You can just go to bed if you want? Rook’s not usin’ his room tonight, I guarantee you that.”

“No,” Staci shakes his head, his jaw tightening for a moment as he lets go of her hand to graze his fingers against her hip and she swallows hard, his movements reminiscent of the moment they had in the Wolf’s Den. “No, I wanna...I need to spend time with you.”

She nods, biting her lip and continuing up the stairs until they reach the upper floor of personal rooms that Mary May had been kind enough to give the deputies while they worked on saving the county. Shoving the bottle of whiskey under her arm, Maddy opens her door and clicks on the light.

The room smells a little stale--in the months she’s been in the Henbane and then the Whitetails, it seems it’s gone untouched. The bed is made, the old quilt Mary May’s grandmother had made many years ago laid on top; clothes still hang in the closet, all loners from Mary May and Grace, and a few of Rook’s softer flannels.

Setting the whiskey on the side table, Maddy curls her fingers around one of the columns of the old, wooden four-poster bed, offering Staci a smile. He moves to the whiskey and pours them healthy portions, his fingers shaking when he offers her the glass. “To you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and deep and she hates how it sends a shiver down her spine, hates that the pain in his voice still makes her weak in the knees for him. “For...barging into the Whitetails like a fuckin’ banshee and settin’ fire to everything to save us.”

“I’d never leave y’all behind,” Maddy whispers, her lips ghosting against the rim of the glass. She takes a pull of the alcohol, wincing slightly as it goes down warm. Staci is still staring at her, his eyes sunken behind bruises and scars. Setting the whiskey down, she shakes her head at him. “Stace, you’re okay, okay? You’re going to be okay, I’m gonna make sure--”

He cuts her off, shoving his own glass to the side table, the amber liquid sloshing over the side, before grabbing her face, pulling her away from the bedpost and into him. His lips slide over hers, rough and chapped, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth, the taste of him tinged with whiskey flooding her senses. She grabs at his hair, his shoulders, standing on her tip-toes to collide into him.

Staci groans into her mouth, pressing her back, back, back, until she bumps into the wall beside the door. Her hand flies out to push the lock in before sliding her hand carefully under the hem of his shirt. He starts, then stills, then drags his mouth from hers to press his lips against her pulse, to scrape the wild beating with his teeth. “Is this, are you--”

“Yes,” Maddy whispers, cheeks burning red at the pure desperation in her voice. “God, yes, touch me, Staci--”

His hands barely shake when they reach up to cup her face, his thumb dragging over the wound across her cheek, barely healed, then along the one at the corner of her lip. His eyes darken as his fingers trace a cut across her throat, flexing gently as she swallows hard. She moves to slide his shirt up, to trace the muscle she can just barely feel under her fingertips but he squeezes, just enough to stop her, a whine falling from her lips.

“No,” he mutters, his voice gravelly as he ducks his head, scraping his teeth against her jaw. “Let me touch you first.”

Biting her bottom lip, Maddy lets her head fall back against the wall, her hands hovering at her sides until she places her palms against the wood, to keep them still. The command in Staci’s voice is implicit--don’t move, don’t do anything, just let him take control. There’s a change in him now; gone is the timid, broken man she’s come to know since his rescue. Now she sees a flash of the old Staci, a flash of the man that grabbed her in the Wolf’s Den and kissed her senseless before his terror kicked back in. She’ll do anything to keep that from happening again.

His mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, stopping to unbutton the flannel she’d stolen from Rook earlier in the day, licking at skin as it’s exposed, inhaling sharply at the wrath carved into her chest. It’s still red, tender from the infection that had set in while she traveled the Henbane--Tracey had given her some antibiotics the last time Maddy woke up at the jail, but the tissue surrounding the tattoo is still painful. Staci brushes soft fingertips across the word before ducking down and pressing his lips against it, murmuring things she can’t hear against the inflamed skin.

He pushes the flannel off of her shoulders, tossing it behind him before unbuttoning her shorts and shoving them down the swell of her hips and ass, kicking them out of the way before bending before her to tug her shoes and socks off. His fingers trail up her legs, his feather-light touch tickling her and she shivers, shifts above him, clenching her thighs together as he brushes against the front of her panties.

“Fuck,” she whispers, staring down at him as his eyes lock onto hers, as he presses himself closer to her center, as he hooks her knee over his shoulder and presses his mouth against her lace-covered cunt.

She trembles, her fingers winding into his hair as she whines, as she tries to increase the friction, but he stops her, his hands firm on her hips. “No,” he growls, his breath hot against her. “My way.”

Maddy nods frantically, pressing herself back against the wall in an effort to show she’s going to listen, that she’ll be good. His index finger hooks along the hem of her panties, tugging them to the side and his tongue darts out, lapping at her folds. She keens, her hand coming up to her mouth, as she tries her hardest not to rut against him. It’s been so long, months, since the last time anyone has touched her this way--Sharky was a reprieve until he realized fucking her wasn’t helping her in the slightest, and desperate to not ruin their friendship, he put an end to it. Her fingers against her clit in abandoned homes were nothing compared to the spear of Staci’s tongue, the stretch of his broader fingers as he slid them inside of her with little resistance.

He groans from between her legs, pulling his fingers out to lick them clean before tugging her panties off and letting them follow the path of her other clothes. Staci stands, his hands spanning her hips, dancing up her ribs until they come to rest just below the lacy bralette she’d thrown on earlier. His thumbs drag over her nipples, already hard under the fabric, as he cups her small breasts, and he smirks, he fucking smirks and she’s almost overjoyed at the expression, at the normality of it on him.

“Stace,” she whispers, her voice breaking as he pushes the bra up and over her head. He tugs her hair out of the sloppy ponytail it’s in, and cups her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She can count the broken blood vessels on his skin, can see the way the bruise has painted blue and black, purple and yellow across his nose. “I-” She’s afraid of what she’s going to say, emotion bubbling up in her that seems too much too quick. Maddy shivers, naked in his arms as he searches her face. Her hands grab at his elbows, holding him there, against her, fully clothed. “I need you, please--”

He groans and she rises her on her tiptoes to swallow it in a kiss, crushing her mouth against his. Staci grabs her around her waist, his large hands spanning the width of her body to swing her away from the wall, to press her against the quilt spread out on the bed. She wants to push his clothes off of him, to bare him to her like she is to him, but he pins her hands to the bed with one of his own wrapping around her thin wrists.

She wonders if she’s just that much smaller, thinner, than him, or if she really hasn’t taken care of herself as well as she thought. His free hand trails down her ribs and drag over the sharp jut of her hipbone and she can hear him hum, tsk, to himself as if cataloging the “problems” he finds. She wants to grab him up, to tell him she’s okay, that she’s going to be fine now that she has him and Rook back, but he drags his tongue over the tattoo at her rib cage and her mind goes blank.

His tongue traces the outline of the revolver on her skin; she can feel the spear of his tongue spell out the words on the scroll work, the capitalized BANG. Rook used to tease her about the silliness of ruining a perfectly good revolver tattoo, but right now as she squirms under his tongue, pinned to the bed with his hand, she’s terribly glad she opted for the dumb thing.

Sucking a bruise into her skin just under the tattoo, Staci finally sits back, fixing her with a look when he lets go of her hands. Maddy keeps them where he leaves him, stretched up over her head, arching her back just enough to make a pretty picture for him to take in before he begins kicking off his shoes. He shucks his pants down over his narrow hips before yanking the old shirt he wears off and behind him.

His shoulders and chest are covered in bruises, in scratches, in marks that make her ache to hold him, to trace them and press kisses against each one and for half a second she can see the scared Staci flicker back into his eyes, as he hesitates with the hem of his briefs, his cock a hard outline under the fabric.

Ignoring the worry of disappointing him, Maddy sits up and grabs his wrist, tugging him back onto the bed with her, sliding her hands up and into his hair, tilting his head to the side to kiss him as she presses her body against his. His hands fumble at her sides for a moment before dragging her thigh up and over his hip, rutting against her.

She moans into his mouth at the feel of his cock against her folds, relishing the hard pulse of him even through the material of his underwear. Maddy pulls back, just enough to press her lips against the bruise on his cheek, the bruise on his nose, gently before looking him in the eyes. “Staci...let me touch you now? Please?”

He hesitates again, his fingers spasming at her thigh and his jaw twitches with how tight he clenches it. Glancing down at the marks on his skin, worry painted clearly on his face, he grimaces. Maddy gently takes his chin and kisses him again, slowly, her hips pressing into his tightly. Staci nods, jerkily, allowing her to push him back against the mattress so she can hover over him.

Carefully, Maddy lowers herself against him, her knees tucking against his ribs as she settles in his lap, shivering as she rolls her hips against Staci’s. He bucks up, into her, his cock straining against his briefs, but she forces herself to slow down, to duck down and press her lips against the bruise at his collarbone.

She traces it with her tongue until she reaches the healing cut it stems from, at the dip of his sternum. He shudders under her, his hands ghosting over her bare skin before settling one on her hip, the other in her hair. Kissing the wound, she travels downward, branding each mark with her mouth, until she’s reached the waistband of his underwear. Glancing up at him, she swallows hard at the look in his eyes--how they’ve dilated with need, with want, of her--her fingers toying with the elastic as she mouths at the trail of hair that disappears under the fabric.

Dragging her mouth along the hard outline of him, through the cloth, she can’t contain the moan that falls from her lips at the feel of him. He shudders at the vibration, his hand tightening in her hair, her name a whine as he presses his hips up toward her. She gives in, dragging the waistband down, grinning to herself as his cock springs free, heavy, red and leaking from its tip as it falls heavily against his stomach.

He kicks the underwear down his legs as she settles between them, wrapping her hand at the base of his cock and tugging upward, twisting her wrist as she reaches the tip. Her thumb spreads the slick of his precum across the head, dragging her hand back down before leaning forward to lap at the salty taste of him. His hand is tight in her hair now, a constant pull that borders on painful, but the look on his face as she meets his eyes is worth any of the discomfort.

A sound leaves him, like he’s been gutted, when she slips his cock between her lips, when she takes him deep into her mouth, and deeper still. She holds herself there, her palms flat on his thighs, his hand flexing in her hair, curses and sighs leaving him in huffs as she swallows him down, her nose pressing against the soft hair at his stomach. Pulling back, she gasps for air, a string of spit connecting her lips to his cock in the most obscene way and she loves it. It makes her feel powerful, the way his thighs tremble, the way he can’t quite get words out. She goes forward, to take him in her mouth again but his hand tugs her hair sharply, pulling her away from his cock.

She whines, batting his hand away from her hair so she can take him in her mouth once more, bobbing her head as she moves up and down his length. There’s something she loves about this--the weight of him on her tongue, the taste of him, the knowledge that with a few more expert twirls of her tongue and maybe the barest scrape of her teeth, she can have him coming in seconds.

Growling, Staci tugs her away, rolling them over, lifting her leg to his shoulder and sliding inside of her in one swift movement. Maddy chokes out a sob as the air in her lungs leaves her, her hand flying to the side to grip at the sheet as he pushes her down, pressing her into the mattress, her knee nearly at her shoulder as he pounds into her. The stretch of his thick cock sends flutters through her belly; she was prepared for him, nearly dripping wet, and still the sudden intrusion burns in the best way.

Her other hand slides into his hair, holding it out of his face as she tries to keep focus on him, to watch as he fucks her, half checking to make sure he’s okay and half-desperate to see the snarl of his lip, to watch him growl out her name as he possesses her in a way she didn’t know she needed--in a way she’s not entirely sure he’d be able to do before all of this.

It makes her feel bad, knowing that his pain has resulted in her pleasure, but then he’s slipping out of her to roll her over onto her belly, his hands at her lower back to hold her to the mattress before pushing back inside of her from behind, and the white-hot coil inside of her tightens further, driving any coherent thought out of her mind.

Her moans are muffled by the sheets, her fingers sore from how they scrape for purchase in the blanket. He stutters in his fast rhythm, dipping his head to mouth along her spine, to bite at her shoulder, to whine in her ear at how fucking tight she is and all of it is too much--his voice, the scrape of his teeth, the press of his cock inside of her at an angle that hits every single perfect spot--and she comes harder than she thinks she’s ever come before.

Mouth open in a silent sob, Maddy presses back against him, her cunt rippling around his cock, urging him to follow suit, but he tugs her up so his arm is wrapped around chest, so she’s on her knees and her back against him, fucking up into her, his free hand snaking around to circle her clit, driving her over the precipice once more. This time she has to clap her hand over her mouth, bite at her fingers, to keep from screaming, to keep from drawing unwanted and unneeded attention from Rook’s nearby room.

Staci bites down on her shoulder again, bruising her as he comes, but he’s just as quick to lave his tongue over the indentations of his teeth, to soothe the sting as he empties himself into her. Carefully, he lowers her back to the bed, letting her rest on her stomach as he falls back onto his heels. “Shit,” he mutters, running a hand over his face and Maddy forces herself to roll over, as much as she’d love to just lay there and bask in the soreness between her legs. She grabs at his hand as he tries to stutter out apologies, “Mads, I’m so--”

Cupping his face between her hands, Maddy strokes the cut at his cheek carefully, fixing him with a glare that stops his half-formed words. “Staci Pratt, if you are trying to apologize for fucking me within an inch of my life while your dick is still half-hard--” and he makes a choked noise there, his eyes darting down to his cock, shifting until she tightens her hold on his face, “--then you better rethink your life right now. Because that’s nothin’ to apologize for. And I am about to pass the fuck out because I have nothing left in me but exhaustion, but you better fuckin’ believe that tomorrow morning I’m going to return the favor.”

She lets go of his face and points at the pillow next to hers and jerks her head toward it. “So you better lay down and cuddle me, and be here in the morning or I swear to God I’ll--”

He cuts her off, kissing her hard, all tongue and teeth and desperation and she swears it tastes like love. Her heart aches, her fingers thread through his hair, and she lets him tug her down to lay against the pillows. He pulls away first, pressing kisses against her cheeks and nose, her chin and throat, holding her body against his.

She can feel the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard, as he tucks her head under his chin. She can feel the beat of his heart and the shift in his jaw as he smirks softly above her. “Within an inch of your life, huh?”

“Shut up, Staci,” Maddy breathes, grinning against his chest. “Go to sleep.”

#far cry 5 #far cry 5 au #far cry 5 fic #deputy staci pratt #staci pratt #staci pratt x deputy #staci x maddy #deputy madalynn forrester (oc)#rest ye weary #writing #my stuff #i cannot write endings #to save my life so #smut queen #QUEEN OF THE SMUT #and there's nothin' you can do about it #nfwmb

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mysteriescomeinthrees · 3 years

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EPISODE 2: Hurricane Jordan Pines is coming - Jordan Pines

girl what the actual fuck was that like.... Eve was ROBBED ok. Absolutely positively robbed! *Sighs* ok here we go Episode 2: Not All Fear Is The Same https://voca.ro/13U2UMQI90Qm

So we lost the puzzle challenge, and I’m so fucking conflicted because we kinda lost due to Coulee’s mistake which gave us penalty points. So I’m caught in this mindset of not wanting Coulee to be punished for that because it was an honest mistake but I also don’t feel good about someone else going home when it was that mistake that made us lose in the first place if that makes sense it just wouldn’t be fair, also I’m working with Coulee because we wanted to avenge Eve and kick ass and this genuinely is just such a bummer. Also y’all I don’t think you understand how like complicated this is because of the trio twist. Because every decision you make and everything you say can reflect on your trio in some aspect. You say something that rubs someone the wrong way it could go back to your trio and fuck one of them over the next time anyone of them isn’t safe.

ok here’s plan: I will say I got a medallion if asked about the bay and THATS IT. I’m taking all advantages with me and I ain’t telling a soul, not even my trio. Cause these girls talk too much. Then Imma get the tea from Andrew and see what’s happening on green. And then I’m gonna size up the other two groups to see who’s ready for war on Ozarks. Streets say Jabari is still in the sunken place and is still being loyal to Henry but that’s ok. That just means there’s an opening and I’m looking for recruits- any takers 😏

So we of course didnt try our best but it didnt matter thanks to my advantage. On the offside that could mean that eve or another ally could be in dnager, I have made friends with jinx and henry right away and am trying to win my tribe over despite the whole amount of issues roxy brings. I love her to death but she made enemies way too early in the game especially in the way this game is formatted. only the the social survive 👑

Coulee is in danger for really messing up the challenge and even though normally that would be a plausible way to go I can't afford this like literally I worked to hard ve doing this all by myself and alone. Currently I'm doing everything in my power to make sure coulee stays and we get another day.

going back to my my montenegro roots and submitting one sentence confessionals as a bare minimum. anyways eve baby you will be avenged white women are wild

also if coulee goes home today truly y'all are gonna see a bitch on a war path.

if i decide to wake up.

I feel like I’m gonna get first boot on my tribe after the stunt that Sarah pulled cause she voted out Eve whom is jabaris friend, whom is my tight tight ally on this tribe. But we won the challenge so it’s fine. I got a vote expose advantage last cycle I forgot to mention! Roxy has told me that Sarah and bodhi are her nemises and those are like my two closest allies and she knows that like wtf.

I 1000% tell Andrew too much and it's 100% because I'm just used to talking to him in my host chat This was way less of an issue with Asya and Isaac when I played with them because they only hosted me once and weren't super interactive If Andrew doesn't fuck me over then they've 100% joined the list of people that I will always work with in an org Sarah has already made that list because I am a dumby Pretty blonde girl said "Call me daddy spice" and I said "Yes pls" Wait if Andrew joins that list then literally half of that list is in this game That would be insane there's no way Andrew is gonna join the list then I'd be stuck with another atomic situation where bodhi and Ali didn't get along and I asked to be voted out partially so I didn't have to pick sides WHAT IF I HAVE TO CHOOSE BETWEEN SARAH AND BODHI I WILL SIMPLY DIE

I have 5 min to submit this hehe so here’s some random shit Literally eve was SO PUSHED sarah RESPOND to me pls omg you just got 5 votes last tribal and I wanna change that and be allies but you gotta respond PLS Andrew is an angel hello? Love him so much and they’re so sweet to talk to and we’re so far always on the same page? LOVE Autumn is literally a bestie but we already knew that didn’t we! Cindi also a bestie omg literally I hope we don’t go to tribal because I could see it being either Cindi or sarah that goes and Cindi going would NOT be it for me

Hello, this is a mandatory confessional. I am feeling decently on my tribe as I have been playing my social connections to try to start relationships. I have my eyes set on kai a bit at the moment as someone who I want out sooner rather than later, nothing against kai, like he seems like a very cool person who I definitly get along with, but his trio scares me in this game as a big agent of the unknown and I would rather not have to deal with their gameplay in the later parts of this. I feel pretty shitty tbh cause coulee is someone I like a lot and could definitly see a game relationship being strong but she fucked up hard in the challenge and no one is willing to budge on the issue. Let it be stated here first, i tried to get it to be kai but people said jordan pines no thank you. So im gonna hold my trigger finger on kai a little longer and buddy up to him some more so hes not sus of my actions. but mark it down if the joyita boat goes to council again I will drown his ass because hurricane jordan pines is coming and people best be putting on some life jackets or they are going down.

joyita wins immunity all six of us are final three ☺️😔☺️😔

youtube

Safe again!! I have been in limbo because I’ve been at school and training…hopefully it stays this way though?? I’m worried about Carson tonight and Sarah’s idol play really put 101 in the spotlight. But if Carson votes out Kai- they may just keep losing

youtube

Fuck working full time I’m at work rn LOL but uhm we won immunity i wanna kiss jinx on the mouth I will die for jinx and roxy said she wants to work w me bc I gave roxy permissions to spam me more to come at *checks watch* idk when I get off work ig

The game is progressing

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1125554073

#mysteriescomeinthrees #episodes

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movedto-dazaipositive · 6 years

Text

urban fantasy + jackparse

big thanks to @taggianto and @restfulinsomniac because they yelled at me when I asked them to I couldn’t have done it without you 💙 🌌brought to you by the parseposse 🌌

Bob was human before Alicia turned him

but she turned Bob only after Jack was conceived

so Jack is a halfie from the start

and in their real forms, vampires are unnerving. they have waxy, bloodless skin and sunken eyes but in artificial light they’re sparkling_heart

and Jack gets all his mom’s good looks and his dad’s love for hockey

but they know that putting him in hockey is unfair because humans just can’t compete

he never grows up with hockey as a burden on his shoulders. he’s allowed to be a geeky, chubby history nerd who loves taking photos of random stuff

Jack goes to samwell

the Samwell campus (since I can’t remember canon right now) is next to/in a lil town

right? and Kent is just this lonely sixteen y/o boy who has a little magic and he can talk to ghosts

and in Jack’s first year, this girl on campus and her boyfriend are found dead in the woods behind the Haus

and then weird shit starts going down near the Haus and their Captain, who is superstitious as fuck even by hockey player standards, is like. nope. we gotta do an exorcism

and he puts Shitty and Jack on the task because the frogs gotta be good for something, right? and so they ask around and someone gives them the game of someone who tells them about Kent

Kent lives alone. he got kicked out when he was 13 bc his dad was like, no fucking devils in my house. Kent finds this dilapidated cottage just a little bit into the woods on the other side and the ghosts there are friendly and kind and give him instructions on how to cook and which herbs to pick at what time for witchcraft and which herbs the florist will buy

and Kent survives and occasionally someone will ask him to do an exorcism and Kent will charge them to talk to some poor confused ghost who doesn’t know what’s going on

which is what Jack and shitty ask him to do, or so he thinks, so he shrugs and agrees. and I want it to keep in mind that this is Jack without hockey. he’s a slightly chubby, awkward history nerd who takes a camera everywhere and happens to be half-vampire by complete accident

he’s like, the last person you’d expect to have vampire parents

he’s adorable, okay? Kent can’t deal with this stupidly beautiful soft boy. he just can’t. he reacts in typical Kent fashion by being a jackass to Jack (ha!) who’s like ?? about it

(Kent is going to melt the first time Jack hugs him)

Kent is so going to melt, though. he’s been alone with nothing but ghosts for regular company since he was 13 and Jack is large and warm and he smells like maple syrup and almonds and he’s always wearing dorky sweaters and he’s got a slow, wonderfully calming heartbeat. Kent doesn’t stand a fucking chance

I think Jack doesn’t even need to be a vampire for this fic to work he just needs to not play hockey

anyway. Kent goes with Jack and Shitty to the woods behind the Haus and they a have a campout for 2 days where they toast marshmallows and wait for the ghosts to show up

Kent hears someone crying on the second night after Jack and shitty are asleep. he goes to investigate, like the entire dumbass that he is. who goes it turn out to be? the girl who was killed, ofc. and she’s all bloody and horrifying and shit and I won’t go into details bc I have to sleep in 15 minutes but she scary

but Kent is like, np. hey, can I help you out? what happened? starts talking to her in a normal person voice until she calms down somewhat. and she’s just getting somewhere when shitty pops up behind Kent with a really loud leaf cronch sound and the girl starts screaming again

Kent is like, good job, asshole. and they aren’t getting anywhere with the girl so they just go back to their tents, where Jack is taking photos of the fire and looking Hot As Fuck (ha!) and Kent is extremely flustered bc he is a smol teenagered boy. and they all go to bed.

Kent wakes up just before dawn, yelling. his nightmare is bad enough that he nearly strangles himself trying to get the fuck away from whatever it was and Jack and shitty don’t get what’s going on but Kent is terrified and won’t stop crying so they take him back to the Haus, where Drew, their manager, makes waffles for everyone but especially Kent

who is by this time wearing one of jack’s sweaters and also has their softest blanket draped over him like a cape

(interlude because I fell asleep)

so where I left off, Kent is sitting at the table, eating waffles courtesy of Drew, the SMH’s genderfluid manager and Lardo’s predecessor

Jack is hovering nervously bc Kent has been crying for half the night and vomiting for a quarter of it

but Kent insists he’s okay now, and Jack is hovering because he’s! worried! Kent is tiny and Jack doesn’t want anything to happen to him

Kent, between shoveling waffles into his mouth bc he’s only had them once before in his life, tells them briefly how the girl died

and the way she died is like, gruesome. it’s this horrible thing involving a high school cult and this girl was a witch with real power that got trapped in this thing and they tried to kill her but it didn’t work and it’s bad. let’s not go into too many details about it

and she told her boyfriend, who was a lax bro, and he was like, I’m gonna beat these people up, except there was a demon stuck somewhere that these stupid cultists set free and it killed her and her boyfriend

bad, long drawn out deaths

and once Kent is done eating waffles–which takes a while, because he eats a lot–he slams his fork down and says, grimly, “I’m going to kill them.” and Jack goes ummm? no? ur 16 u r a child?

they fight. loudly. there’s a lot of Jack yelling you are a child and Kent screaming, I’m the only one who can do this

Kent does not like Shouting he has a lot of bad memories of it.

shitty, walking in: we can,,,,,,all go,,,

Jack:

Kent:

and drew is like, the hell you guys are leaving me behind. I’m the only adult in this room and y'all all are kids

restful: (drew has adopted three children? somehow?? but they are all drew’s children and drew loves them)

restful: (one of them lives in the woods and needs more waffles in his life, another goes by the name ‘shitty’, and the third hangs around with the hockey team despite not playing hockey but they are all drew’s kids)

me: (the lax bro feud starts in jack’s sophomore year and it is 100% Drew’s fault. drew didn’t have to humiliate the entire team because zey were bored)

Drew uses zey/zer/zers

drew is a messy edgelord parent

so Kent and shitty and Jack and drew all go on an Investigation

(I feel like this fic should be written like an Enid Blyton novel)

so they around and ask people weird questions until Kent sees someone who has magic. people who have magic (and other supernaturals) show up in Kent’s vision with weird coloured auras.

and they go up to this dude, a Muslim guy in his third year who recognises drew, and this guy is like, yeah totally. I know about that cult of fucking weirdos that followed Allison around. I helped her get a restraining order on them

so they go track down the restraining order. the cop they meet first is this nasty cishet dude who refuses point blank to use Drew’s pronouns, casually calls Kent a slur, and won’t look at Ahmed and sideyes shitty suspiciously. this is where jack’s occasional vampire charm helps (or maybe it’s because Jack looks like a Fellow CisHet) and the cop agrees to dig up the file

Jack is not a Fellow CisHet and is very uncomfortable at being mistaken as such but he plays along because he Must

and everyone acknowledges the brave sacrifice that he’s making

restful: Jack, staring longingly at Kent’s every move. “Uh, yeah. Het. I can pretend to be that.”

me: [about Jack] me? heterosexual? yeah, uh, totally. I’m not. gay. or bisexual. *staring at Ahmed’s ass in those jeans * I’m Straight

Kent, also staring at Ahmed’s ass: I’m not

drew: you’re all dead to me except Ahmed, who can have my number whenever he wants

restful: Ahmed, wide-eyed and trying to decide which of them to stare at. “all of you can have my number, please use it.”

Ahmed: except you, Kenny. also, does anyone know to file for adoption?

the head of the (I had to google this) precinct is a butch Native American woman who shows up to ask them why they want records.

Captain: can someone explain?

Drew: please take me I’m gay

Kent explains the situation to her and she’s like, yeah totally. u can have the records. Allison’s restraining order was before i transferred here but totally

so they go thru the records and find the names of the people Allison restrained. and then they go track down those people

drew gets the captain’s number 'just in case we need some help’ but we all know zer True Motives

(Ahmed and Drew are gonna get together and work out a relationship where Drew gets to have as much sex as zey like and Ahmed gets to remain faithful to zer which is ideal for both of them, partly because Ahmed is just a lil grey ace? he’s uncomfortable calling himself that but he doesn’t like sex nearly as much as Drew does)

anyway, they have a showdown where Ahmed shows off his karate moves and Drew splits zer time between fighting (badly, needs to be rescued) and 😍@ahmed

drew is such a bad fighter because zer entire technique is to flail and screme

Ahmed loves his idiot person, okay? he’s made his peace with it

Kent meanwhile tries to exorcise a demon and he has no fucking clue what’s going on

or what he’s doing. but he cuts a deal with the demon that amounts to 'you can have the cultists but plz go from here, begone etc’. demon is okay with this, partly because Jack is being a threatening bloodsucker in the background and this demon isn’t that strong–demon boi might win. but he might not. boy ain’t chancing it

Jack and Kent become awkward friends who meet for dinner every week and they go trekking in the woods and pine horribly over each other. it’s gross. Kent is still living alone in a cottage in the woods and he still needs to be hugged about 6 times more than he is right now

but on the plus side, he has friends now! Jack and Drew and Ahmed (who’s teaching Kent magic !!) and *looks at smudged writing on hand * Skittles

and the entire hockey team.

and the Captain, who takes one look at this idiot boy and invites him home and feeds him and does it regularly enough that Kent is living there before he knows it

Kent goes back to school. he s t r u g g l e s to get grades good enough to get into samwell next year (he hasn’t been to school in 4 years ok) but he has Jack to help him study!

Jack kisses him at graduation

it’s just a quick little omg you made it kiss but Kent is! so happy! he feels like he’s bursting with it

he has everything he wants, he’s loved and hugged, he has a little kitten who’s his familiar, and even if he doesn’t get into Samwell he’ll still finds have magic and community college and he wants to become a teacher

the end

#pimms #jackparse #parseposse #parsepositive #omgcp #kent parson #jack zimmermann #carysfics #age gap /#there's a couple years between jack and kent but they don't do anything until kent is legal

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sweeetsky · 5 years

Text

It's three in the god damn afternoon and Harry can feel the light strike his eyes, even if he hasn't opened them yet. The staleness in his mouth and a hard head moving on the ridge of his stomach. His chest is bear and he's welcomed by Noel looking up at him, dizzy on sleep but he's up and "my neck hurts Harry." He says groggy and tired and he looks way too young to be hungover and he is and Harry feels slightly guilty for getting a seventeen year old drunk, but hey he's done it before. Harry tries opening his eyes a bit more, an effort that takes way too long then it needs to, like he's coming back into this dimension after being away for so long. He see's Adrien tucked against Liams back, there in a weird mesh that looks entirely too comfortable and not cozy at all, but Liams foot is in front of Harrys face. And how in the hell did they all fit in this bed?

Adrien groans lightly he's still out, Liam barely even moving, chest moving up and down subtly Harry has to blink back in focus to make sure Liam is actually breathing. His fingers find Noels hair and he cards threw it lightly. "Get up, you can sleep in my spot." He tells him and Noel looks at him with a tired nod as they switch places and Harry gets out of bed. His knees cracking slightly as he walks around picking up random items of clothing that belong to one or all of them, he's not sure these days. But he puts on what could be Liams shirt, putting the rest of the clothes on the corner chair till these assholes actually wake up by themselves, he doesn't have the heart, patience nor energy after all that drinking they did last night.

He runs to the bathroom praying he doesn't find a bewildered Kelly. He loves the girl, he really does but if she obnoxiously talks way too loud with alcohol kicking in his system and "Aftahnoon' to ya HARRY!" rings through his ears right now, he might actually cry. But Kelly isn't around, maybe out with her friends or Sophie, she'll probably come back and swoon Noel away, he'll make sure to make kissy faces and draw big elaborate hearts in the air as she flicks him off and Noel will blush or wink, probably both.

He steps into the bathroom and rinses his mouth and washes his face letting parts of his hair get wet and doesn't spend too much time in there. He's been in this place before, so many times its like a home. Walking down the hallway and into the kitchen he spots Zayn sitting on a stool, something in his cup maybe tea or coffee he's not sure, but it smells really good.

"You made breakfast? I have the best wife in the world!" He half shouts or yells, he's not sure but he thinks he's loosing his voice. Was he screaming all last night? Most likely.

"It's three in the afternoon, you bitch." Zayn sips his coffee or tea.Voice sounding cool, unbothered, quiet, yet fucking Zayn.

"I know" Harry opens the fridge twirls around and catches Zayns expression letting the cool air touch his chest. He's tired too, eyes sort of sunken in, dark long lashes low as he looks in his cup again, taking a drink, and his shoulders are slumped. "And you didn't make breakfast..." Harry says with a pout but he's not really pouting,he knows that it's way too late for breakfast but still.

"You're better at it." Zayn smirks,almost chipper and Harry already knows where this is going. "Eggs, pancakes, waffles, cereal, turkey bacon?" "Turkey bacon's too salty." "Do you have milk?" Harry is still turned, looking at Zayn like a short order cook. "You're right next to the fridge!" "I'm askin you though!" "Maybe." Zayn quirks a brow. "Such a tease." "You're one and only."

Harry takes out what he can, he finds the milk, flour, the eggs, Zayn stashed a box of Lucky Charms all the way in the back of the pantry, fucking asshole thought he wouldn't find this gem. But he places everything out on the counters five bowls and five plates, they can pick and choose later on, but they'll probably eat everything they always do.

"You need a hand?" He hears Adriens voice coming into the kitchen he's walking like he's a million fucking bucks and honestly Harry has no idea how the hell he does it.

"You actually asking or you pulling on my balls Addy?" Harry is flipping pancakes now, a dish towel on his shoulder and he already made a shit load of eggs and hash browns that they better eat or so help him god....

"Nah, seeing you work makes me want to admire.... from afar." He smiles and slaps Harry on the shoulder staying close as his arms wrap around his waist and squeezes and Harry fake chokes like he's being suffocated. "The bloody pancakes mate!" He laughs and yeah his throat is defiantly hurting.

Noel and Liam aren't far along. Noel completely shirtless and so pale, well not as pale as when he first met him, and is he getting muscles? For a split second it takes him to Kelly. But he shakes that thought, quickly because one, Kelly would kill him-telepathically or otherwise, and two, Noel is his brother now and even though he treasures those kids, it's a bit surreal that they are, well sort of grown but aren't, but they are in love, and he needs to leave it all alone. He'll leave it all to Zayn, because Kelly is his actual sister and they've already talked about this, once or twice before in low whispers in each others ears. When Noel looks at Kelly and she tilts her head smiling up at him and there having a conversation all on there own with no words just eyes,like destined lovers in epic love stories and movies that you see, the type you're kinda scared to see in two teenagers still in high school. And "...she's happier now." Zayn would whisper back into Harry's ear and Harry would look at him and nod,smile a little at the young couple, because Zayns right, they are all a bit happier now. He shouldn't be so worried. Maybe it's not really his place.

Liam walks next to Noel, hands stuffed into his basketball shorts, yawning as he hops on the counter next to Adrien who's drowning his Captain Crunch in milk that's holding on a wing and prayer. He'll probably have to munch on dry Fruit Loops but he doesn't mind.

"Our babies making us breakfast, Daddy's so proud." Harry peeks at him with the corner of his eye as he's finishing up the last batch of pancakes on the griddle and tosses a way too flamboyant hand in the air as Liam picks at the eggs. "Warm up the pita bread, to go with it." "Where's it at?" "Freezer." He puts the big plate of fluffy pancakes in front of all of them, some are choc-chip, he found a half bag hiding next to the curry mix. Liam puts the warmed up pita bread next to the eggs,everything and more is there but Zayn.

He's out in the balcony on the phone, maybe with Essie, and they got too loud. Harry watches as everyone settles in with there plate and bowls and finding there utensils, Liam bargains in to just eating the pancakes with his hands. Something he swears he might of picked up from Zayn from all the roti and dal they're so used to eating now. Zayn's smoking a cigarette, shirtless and laughing on the phone through the big balcony window, he catches Harry's eye and sticks his tongue out and Harry rolls his eyes and does an over-expressive grin and lifts up his plate of pancakes and Zayn nods, he'll be there soon.

Everyone is eating silently but not really, comments about last night and "fuck this food tastes really good, or i'm just still high." Liam comments and everyone laughs, Zayn is still on the phone. Adrien takes his plate and moves to the balcony window, immediately catching Zayns attention with all the hip thrusts and the loud moaning and screeching he does, as Noel follows with his bowl of cereal and blows kisses at Zayn shaking his bum. Liam laughs, his eyes joyous and squinting he flicks Zayn off as Zayn does the same. They're all idiots who have been dropped on there heads way too many times yet there still all here in one piece, enjoying each others company.

"Fuuuck..." Liam says looking at his phone, "I gotta close today." "What?" Harry talks with food still in his mouth, most of them are done with theres, and it's almost five thirty, he's always been a slow eater, especially when he's hung over. " hy an't o st lse morrow?" "What?" Liam shakes his head. Harry swallows, "why can't you just close tomorrow?" "I missed too many days fool," he taps Harry's nose, "not all of us are payed ballahs shot callers." He says with a smile and puts his dishes in the sink. "But i gotta go like right now." He pouts reaching up in the pantry getting a powdered donut from a box he leaves on the counter. "You gonna wear my shirt for the whole day?" Liam points to the one Harry is wearing. "It's actually mine!" Adrien calls from the couch he and Noel are well into a game of NBA 2K14. Liam dismisses it with a loud noise, and Harry laughs, "it's a bit dirty mate." stuffing his face with another pancake as syrup sits at the corner of his mouth wiping it with the hem of the shirt. "Well ... now", he laughs. Liam rolls his eyes bites into his donut and walks his way back down the hall, "keep it, fuck ass." Harry only laughs harder. Zayn finally comes in and shuts the balcony door behind him, looking at his friends with pleasant eyes. He smells like menthol and something else he can't pin point right now, but he takes a plate of the left over pancakes and eggs, a bowl of Lucky Charms and sits next to Harry, knees knocking and Harry feels even better all of a sudden, yet he doesn't remember feeling anything less. Maybe its the last wave of the hangover finally passing. They sort of eat in silence as Noel and Adrien chant about something in the living room. He can hear them laughing and he hates how they are all infectious sometimes, because it only leads him to smile about something he has no clue about.

"You out did your self." Zayn says fork in his hand. "I kinda burnt the eggs." "I like it though. You actually flavor the food, unlike most." He drizzles syrup all over the cakes, it sort of looks artistic, fucking show off. "I'm not like most." Harry smiles and he's still on his second pancake, the bowl of Fruit Loops switched out for Cocoa Puffs,he gave the last bit to Noel and the bit of milk he saved for Zayn. Harry doesn't really like milk with his cereal sometimes so he's fine with it. "That's true." He hums

Liam comes strutting down the hall, fully clothed in what looks like Zayns skinny jeans and Adriens Iron Maiden t-shirt and the jacket he bought him like four Christmases ago and Harry has to admit he filled it out well. "I'm off bitches! Papas gotta go get the cash. He finds his snap-back behind the couch and car keys jingle in his hands. "Hell ya going mate?" Adrien calls out. "Work! I just said this boo." "Are those my car keys?" Adrien gets off the couch "Might be." Liam widens his eyes obnoxiously, he knows Adrien doesn't really care, they borrow and use each others cars all the time, and Liam probably figured out that Adrien picked him up and he didn't actually drive here himself last night. "You both are idiots!" Harry yells at them from the kitchen. "Yeah, idiots!" Zayn echos and they both laugh

Adrien makes a face like he doesn't want to leave, but there are a million other things he knows he could be doing right now, like check up on his brother, make sure no one in his family burned themselves alive and all that, and he should probably go but he knows how they all feel. They barely see the fool, these days. "What time you get off work Li?" "Ten." "We meet here at eleven then?" "I'll have to see Ros, so.." "Okay midnight?" "You're not tired?" "Mate..." Adrien gives Liam a knowing look, like don't be fucking ridiculous. "Drop me off at my place then, then come and pick me up." "Aight lets go den!" Adrien makes it quick and puts on his shoes, zipping up a hoodie he has no shirt underneath and jumps on Liams back. "Don't leave me alone in this world Jack!" He yells dramatically. "Shut up Rose!" And everyone is laughing and waving as the two make it out the door with a playful shriek, and Harry wonders if the neighbors really hate them yet, but he knows they do. He can still hear them bickering in the hallway but there voices eventually fade.

When Zayn is finished, which was still faster than Harry-Harry had moved on to the cereal to munch loudly on. Zayn puts a hot steaming cup in front of him, it was what he was drinking earlier, even in the same cup. He probably didn't even finish it, just topped it off with a new batch, but Harry could care less. "Drink this, for your throat." Zayn smiles and takes the bowl of Coca Puffs to munch on. And he does, it's Sadaf, with ginger and mint leafs and it's super strong but he likes the flavor on his tongue, so he can't complain. His throat thanks him. Zayn is the only one, somehow and someway that knows how Harry likes his tea. It could just be a very pretentious asinine British thing to not let just anyone serve you tea, but Zayn gets it right every damn time no matter the flavor or time of day. "Are you my fairy god mother? Say yes, so I know it's real." "I'm more like a badass guardian angel with mad skills, ja feel?" "Ja definitely feel." Harry takes a big gulp, and maybe too soon cuz he might of burned his tongue right now, but he doesn't care or at least tries not to show it, but he feels his cheeks turn red. "Mashallah." They burst into laughter.

It seemed like Zayns place had people going in and out, and all around and Harry's laying on the couch. Adrien and Liam came back as loud and obnoxious as before. After six, Essie had come by and Zayn took her out. So it was only Harry and Noel in the apartment. After cleaning up dishes and playing four rounds of FIFA with Noel and Tariq making an impromptu and way too short visit, they knocked out again around eight thirty and didn't wake up till Harry felt Liam squeezing his nose, so he couldn't breathe through his nostrils. Harry swatted and Liam ducked, that fucking asshole.

"I got The Concurring, Oldboy, aaand Submarine." Liam takes out the dvd's from the bag. They're all in the living room huddled together. Adrien finding a spot behind Harry on the couch, his hand tucked under his arm, like they've been in this position before, and they have.

"We have Netflix bruv, you know half of all the shitty movies in one place."

Liam throws the dvd cover of Old Boy in Harry's face.

"Well 'bruv' it's movie night and it's my turn for the movie I want." Liam sits down on the floor, putting in the dvd.

"Noel..." Liam coos he has that slight grin, where he lifts up one brow and bits on his lower lip, it's a look of mischief and complete stupidity and Harry knows it so well he can't help but find it cute throughout the years and equally annoying.

"No." Noel says not even looking up from his phone that's lighting up his face, Harry can see all his freckles from across the room.

"Popcorn please??" Liam is pouting now, hands tucked behind his head on the plush floor. "Free Xbox games." Noel simply states, he's gotten so good with this, being around them makes you a fucking heathen(even thought they loved each other to bits) and if Noel hadn't learned by now... "Are you fucking serious?" "Yep." He chuckles and slides further into the cushions of the love seat, "I know when I'm being used, Lili." It's heart lighted and funny but everyone knows what he means if you look a bit deeper. "Two games. That's it." You would think it's just Liam giving in but Liam isn't fucking stupid, he cares about Noel too. Noel gets up like it's the easiest thing in the world and slides into the kitchen flickering all the lights. "All for fucking popcorn?" Adrien mumbles and Harry feels the light prickling of his scruff and his breathe on the back of his neck and it makes him laugh. "I'm not trynna get up, my body's on off mode and I had to inventory, make the young do all the work." Liam moans and takes one of the spare pillows from the couch the one underneath Harry's arm and lays back down. "Oh!" He yells back, "extra butter, hold the caramel, and oh! Chocolate!" "There's no chocolate!" everyone yells in unison and they all laugh.

Zayn comes in through the front door moments later, which seems like hours because when Harry looked at the clock it was only one in the morning. Adrien is knocked out on the couch that Harry abandoned. Sometimes Adrien kicks in his sleep so he's been lying next to Liam who's totally gone and totally hogged the pillow and he's been laying on a sore side but it's more comfortable than sitting on his bum.

The movie is somewhere done or just beginning he hasn't been paying much attention. Noel has his head buried underneath a pillow after one gruesome scene he didn't like very much, he doesn't blame him.

Harry can't really see Zayns face, just the light from the TV catches at what it can get and Harry sits up from the floor.

"You seen Es?" "Yeah." He's making his way to the living room,voices low. "What are you watching?" "Oldboy." "Is it any good?" "I can't really say." Harry yawns and stretches, rubs his eyes as Zayn sits next to him on the floor backs against the sofa, legs stretched out. They look at each other, Harry can still see how tired he is even in the dark and he's wondering why Zayn's so quiet, but he sort of always is, but this feels off. Or he could just be over analyzing with barely any sleep in his system. "Tariq came by." Harry automatically leans his head on Zayn, as he feels his arm swing over his shoulder, they stay like that for a minute. "I know, I went to go see him too." "He said he loved me then he left, is that what loves like Zay?" Zayn rests his chin on Harry's big head and he can feel him smile. "Don't take it so personally,Tariq's a heart breaker." The sarcasm in his voice bellows and Harry finds sleep really attractive right now. "The worst." He yawns.

Harry's in a weird state where he's pretty sure he's asleep or right about to fall asleep but something pulls on his mind. He feels the soft breathing of Zayn and how warm his hand feels,his arm is still around his shoulder and they're still sort of sitting up, and Zayn is probably fast asleep, but they'll get uncomfortable in his position soon if they don't find an alternative. "Zayn?" "Hm." "Lay down." "Right." They do, on there backs and Harry is surprised Zayns eyes are wide open, blinking into grey darkness, he's not sure what time it is, but he can see him better now. They're still sleepy though, they have to be. "What are you thinking about?" Zayn wasn't looking at him before and now he is. Dark eyes finding his, and he's wearing his favorite jean jacket, the one with all the patches, he can see it now. "How I have a bed, you know one I can sleep in." "Yeah, so? But this is better innit? Five musketeers, fanning out in your living room, brotherly bonding and all that." Zayn quietly chuckles or hums it's a mixture of both and Harry can feel it hit his chest like it's his. "So what's on your mind?" Harry asks again, a bit more firmly, his eyelids seem closed but he isn't going to fall asleep till Zayn really answers him this time, or at least tries. "Time's just a concept right?" "Yeah...most things are Zay, it's what you make of it, ya know, being around people you love, doing things you've always wanted." He yawns, "makindabest of every chance you get allofdatbull..." "What if we run out?" Harry opens his eyes, he wants to say something, ask the forty one and a half questions that just accumulated in his mind in the first ten seconds of silence. But that's where they sit in, silence, because Harry doesn't want to assume anything,he has before. And Zayn could just be having one of those 'I'm questioning everything at four a.m.' type ordeal and it's fine. He's had those countless of times and if anything, he should be the one asking weird questions at four a.m. But it's Zayn and he swears he knows him so well, yet he's always surprised.

"Absolutely not." He whispers, touching Zayns cheek with two soft fingers.Harry almost furrows his brow as to say 'time never runs out on us, are you mad? When has time stopped us from doing anything? when has anything stopped us?' But he doesn't and he's not sure where those his own thoughts came from or what's hanging in the corners of Zayns mind right now, but he prays maybe some rest will mend it.

"Go to sleep." Harry says with a small turn of his lip, "you're creeping me out." Harry turns the other way facing the popcorn bowl and Liam starts to lightly snore. He feels fingers rest on his back and squeezes his eyes shut to shake all the things he wants to say cutting at his tongue.

The clicking at the door is distracting because it wasn't the first time Harry feels like he's heard it in his head. It's like keys jingling and muffled giggles, and it takes a while but he hears the front door open.

"I told you I had the key!" It's Kelly and she's beaming, Harry doesn't have to open his eyes to know she's walking in with a smile on her face. "Took you long enough babe." He hear's Sophies voice right after. They both giggle and shh' each other finding the first thing they see are the boys huddled in the living room asleep, or trying to.

Harry opens his eyes and turns, expression as tired as he was to begin with lifting his head and staring at the two girls.

"Ew." Sophie laughs and Kelly snorts. "A bit of peace, wouldn't kill anyone." He grumbles, laying back flat on the floor. His shoulder bumps into Zayns who's still out like a light.

"Oh shut up hillbilly, all of you've been sleeping way too much anyway." Kelly has bags in her hands, fancy ones with long French names.

Harry tries finding his phone next to him, "It's only eight, shops open up early this morning?"

"Took Kelly shopping yesterday, when you all seemed to have some frick frat party in here causing grief." Sophie disappears in the hallway going into Kelly's room putting the bags on the side of the bed.

Harry doesn't realize Noel is already awake on the other couch, and Kelly walks towards his direction after looking at her brother, that she knows he can hear her, he'd just rather sleep.

"We were having an annual gathering of Gods, you know, mortals like you can't really understand." Harry is smug looking at his messages and missed calls.

"Don't be a twat." He hears Sophie in the back, she sounds like she's in the kitchen, 'good luck finding anything in there,' he thinks.

"Istufurallah" Zayn breathes in his sleep, turning to his side, Harry chuckles and presses his back against him, so there backs touch. Zayn used to say something about not really into feeling trapped, closed spaces included, but somehow he didn't mind with Harry.

Noel reaches out his hand and pulls Kelly down to him against the couch when she's near, pressing a small kiss at the crook of her neck and she smiles with her eyes closed laughing. "Morning" he mumbles and she hums, "morning."

Everyone eventually wakes up Zayn being the last, after an hour or so doting around not really talking about anything, and Sophie being silent all of a sudden when Liam starts talking to Harry about just going out for breakfast, and no he can pitch in this time, Harry only laughs with skepticism because he'll end up paying, not like he minds.

Noel, Liam and Adrien brought a bag of clothes to change. Harry wasn't so bright but Zayn lets him raid his closet as they both got ready. Chests bare in Zayns room, not shy or sheepish they've seen so much anyway. Harry slides into a red sweater and black skinnies, the one with the most rips and random holes, he feels like it could have belonged to him one day, but that days' long gone. He sits on top of Zayns bed, elbows bent, playing with a silver skull ring on his index finger. He looks up and he can see Zayns spine bending on tattooed skin, the swallow moving as his shoulder blades move as he puts on a black shirt with a cool design.

"You make a young girl, blush. Got me all scruffy Zayn." Harry teases with a voice too high of an octave, it sort of sound southern-but he British accent just suffocates it. Zayn shakes his head laughing, "Fuck off." "Show me your guns first, handsome." Harry sticks his tongue out and grins.

In particular, Harry has always been, not jealous, but just... on days he's being ridiculously insecure and brass, wanted to look more like him. Zayn with his dark hair and really long eyelashes, eyes like honey, and a great facial structure. The one you see in expensive magazines, lapped up in Milan or Tokyo (how the world decided that Zayn and Harry to meet is still some what of a mystery to him). A face that could cut you or mend your broken heart, one you wanted to do good by. He's wanted to be quiet like Zayn, keep his reassurance tucked away, somewhere Harry can't even find. He wishes he could do that sometimes.

They chose Duke's Canoe Club where they can eat together and in front of the ocean view of Honolulu. When they get there, Harry and Zayn in the Audi, Liam and Adrien in there Land Rover, and Sophie stuck to Kelly's hip and Noel stayed along, driving them in his own car. Harry thinks about it for a second, wondering if he's been thankful today. He does this now, with all the things that have went to shit for the past five years of his life, maybe even further. If he's been thankful, and his hands round tighter on the steering wheel. Be thankful Harry, don't ruin it Harry.

"I heard it doesn't really matter you know?" Zayn says as he's looking out the window. "What?" Harry says looking at Zayn for a second then looking at the road. "That if Pluto's not a planet." He sucks his teeth, because that's not the point. "You zoned out Haz." "I do that sometimes," Harry says with a light smile and turns into an intersection that should get them to the place faster "... its just thinking 'thas all."

Zayn nods, lets it sit in the air, and turns the music up, it's an old song they used to listen to most of freshman year. Dance Gavin Dance he thinks.

"What station is this?" Zayn asks "It's not, its the mixed CD you made me, sophomore year." "Really?" "Yeah." Harry runs a hand through his hair and takes the next exit. "You kept it this long?" "Why wouldn't I? I love this song," He grins and starts shaking his head in the rhythm putting up the volume higher than needed "I LOVE ALL THE SONGS!"

"YOU'LL GO FAR ON THE BACK OF A POTATO. MAKIN FRENCH FRIES IN THE SNOW. THEN YOU'LL STEAL THAN YOU'LL BORROW. YOU'LL BE RED YOU'LL BE GOLD!" They sang as loudly and obnoxiously till Harry was in the drive way, everyone was already there.

They got a good view in the corner of the restaurant. Essie and Jade are already sitting down next to Sophie and Kelly tucked away as the boys sit around, everyone's talking and Zayn and Harry come in like they're missing out on a joke.

Harry smiles at Jade, she rolls her eyes playfully and he gives her a hug, and he daps Essie. They don't hug, they've never had. Essie gives Zayn a kiss, he isn't sure but he thought he saw Jade rolling her eyes, he doesn't blame her.

They order so much food. The table is long and cluttered with too many plates. He's on his second mango smoothie, the one that's real fruity and the cut strawberries on the side of the straw, fancy stuff, "you're missing out" he tells Liam and he makes a face at Harry.

A waiter comes by and asks if they're 'finally' finished and if the check was needed, Harry looks around to make sure and nods. Everyone claps, he doesn't know why but Adrien started it. Essie and Jade and Sophie boo but he just shakes his head.

"Hater just gonna hate!" He exclaims in a snobbish pitch and it makes Noel laugh.

"Boy, I can buy my own breakfast." "Then where is it?" Harry laughs, and he knows that look Essie gives, like if he moves just a little bit to the left she can....

"Be nice." Zayn glares his eyes at the both of them, and he's right, he'll shut his mouth, this time.

After the check and more blabbing about something they won't really remember. From Liam should stay way from the gossip (Sophie cosigned silently with death glares at Liam, as she sips on her strawberry lemonade.) to Adrien actually hanging out with them, you know be the star leader and all, and maybe Harry should cut his hair a bit more, Jade thinks it looks like a heap of dirty laundry, but he's heard worse. They talk about other things too, current events, simple things, and things that has all of them sitting in comfortable silence.

"I'm not cutting my bloody hair." Harry says as they walk out of Dukes, Zayn is right beside him and Jade over hears. "Ye should mate! A New Year look and all that!" She jumps on his back, he doesn't mind, just locks his arms,and hikes her up. "No!" He yells and he hears her laughing behind him, Harry runs through the parking lot with Jade on his back. He'll never tell her how much he doesn't mind the randomness she causes.

It takes a minute to figure out who's going with who. They decided to go out later to the one of the nightclubs. Sophie insisted on a new club one in Waikiki, Essie felt the same way. Harry didn't want to know how Sophie knew about all the posh clubs, she's barely even been on the island for a year, and it's overwhelming all of it sometimes, because when she came back to him, she was a whole different person, and he's still getting used to it.

Noel and Kelly kind of stay back, shroud themselves in each other, not really interested in the plan, which is. Fine because what nightclub, would let a bunch of seventeen year olds in? And Harry could slide them under the table and management could turn an eye for a good word. And Sophie, well Sophie usually got what she wanted and getting into nightclubs wasn't that hard for her at all. But they decided to sit it out, maybe they had there own plans with there own friends.

Harry decided he would take Sophie home, and the rest split, Essie would drive Jade and Zayn and Liam was with Adrien, and they would all meet up later at Kiss&Fly.

The car ride back is quiet, sort of, Sophie skips a lot of songs till she gets to one of the last one on the CD, gets bored and switches on the radio till she found something she liked.

Harry doesn't really mind, he could bicker but what would be the use.

"Your place..." He starts off and Sophie isn't really paying any attention to him, "you like it?"

She's quiet for a moment till she looks at her older brother, it's a bit surreal to her but he'll never know that.

"Yeah, I do. Has everything I want." "And the guy..." "Which one?" She says it amusingly, like it's something that makes her chuckle at night. Having all these men at her feet whenever she likes, to bend and take care of her, when he couldn't-when he didn't. Who taught her this? But Harry has no room to judge anymore, not when he left when she needed him the most. "Iono, does, he treat you right? He doesn't force nothing." Sophie chuckles and looks out of he window for a moment, quiet. "It's fine, I'm not having sex with them if that's what you're trying to ask." Well not all of them anyway-another thing he doesn't need to know about. "Well it ain't." He says it defensively but dammit he has a right to know about these things. She's still so young even if she doesn't really act like it, and he's still her brother. "I just wanna know if he treating you right 'thas all." "Yep." She says it as to end this dreaded conversation and opens the glove department, finding the cigs, and the lighter she doesn't bother rolling down the window when smokes rolls out of her mouth. And Harry hates it when people smoke in his car, well without asking.

He rolls down the windows from he button on his side, and it's still a long way off to her apartment, she lives further out in the city and he's only seen the outside of her building just a few times but it's posh as hell, if he remembers probably better than his own. But he's not that elaborate on taste and interior designing, just someplace clean and keeps a good roof over his head, and he'd be fine.

Harry can't really take the radio anymore so he turns it off and he drives in silence. When Sophie speaks it sort of frightens him only because he doesn't expect it. "Nan." She says simply, and blows smoke out of her nose "I had a dream about nan." Harry isn't sure whether to smile because she's remembering or tear up but he does neither just nods as he's driving like 'that's good that's so good.'. "You knew it was nan? I..I mean..." "I knew," she says and sits up a bit "I felt it, and like... I dunno, felt like I was going through a memory, fucking weird she had really long hair, in a-" "In a braid, yeah?" Harry finishes and he's trying to keep his eye on the road and Sophies eyes gleam in the tiniest hints but it's there. "Yeah, I dunno it was trippy ye? She said... in the dream, I had my mothers eyes... so much fire. Twilight zone type shit right?" Harry only chuckles, Sophie does have there mothers eyes, the blue blue that seems to go on in it's own way. Crystal like the water up far in Kauai, he's seen that type of blue after thunder storms too. Harry makes a right turn into the main street he has to take, "you... you get anything else? Any other dreams or memories?"

If he had to say this was easy it wasn't. Harry is choking on a million questions and apologizes he feels his mouth would be too sore to ever speak again, if he started with them, but increments.

Patience. He had o learn patience if he wanted o get anywhere with his little sister.

"hm... I'm not really sure it's not really a memory.Someone I see in my head, like when I'm falling asleep I always see her in my head." This is the first time he thinks he's heard Sophie sound serene,-he can't remember the last time he has. Harry thinks she's talking about there mother, and... "She has curly hair... and... she kinda smiles like you, dimples and stuff. She looks mixed though, really dashing like the kids you see in the telly, Disney or some shit." Sophie is looking at him to answer or nod but he doesn't, he drives into her building passing he security and the big iron gates that push open.

When he parks he kills the engine and takes a moment before he turns to her. Increments, remember? He doesn't know what it'll do to her if he just starts telling her things right off the bat. He's slightly read up on this type of stuff. He wanted to take her to specialist but he still remember the bloody chew out she served him, just for mentioning it, and he doesn't want to be back at square one with her.

And sometimes, he wants to take out photo albums, the ones he kept from his trip back to England (the funeral for a girl who wasn't even Sophie.Who ever she was he was glad to just lay her to rest.), and show her old photos. The one of there father kissing there mother and he had a bowl cut with a really ugly vest and Sophie in her mothers arms barely a week old, it was all smiles, and the photo still smells like vanilla because when it was developed, it was on the kitchen table and he was supposed to help make his birthday cake and the vanilla extract spilled all over the photo instead.

He wants to show her photos and albums, point out and this is nan, this is our cousin Gemma she lives in Wales and Brody her brother who divorced his wife of seventeen years with three kids, finally left her to be with the man he really did love, and now they live in East London, and they have a house in France they went to once, and he can barely remember. And so many more, but he can't do all of that now, it's not the time that he can call on, no matter how eager and impatient he can get, this isn't his call.

"That's our little sister, Hayden." He says calmly, as he watches her. Sophie only nods, "Okay." "Do... you want to know more about her?" And that question sounds extremely weird in his mouth, mostly because it's a stupid one, of course she would, right? She only nods again, "you should come up",she says. Sophie doesn't really give him the time to asses it all, she just gets out of the car and butts her cig on the pavement, walking to the big glass doors that someone already has open for her, he follows suit, and walks down the lobby to the elevators where she waits. She holds up a finger in he air,"just only tell me about her, okay?" Harry smiles, "sure."

Most of the afternoon he's thankful to say, is spent with Sophie. Her apartment is lush, cut, sophisticated, with white walls and pretty high ceilings for just an apartment. His stomach sinks of course, because "how?" and "why?" and "oh gosh, Soph..." but he keeps most of his concerns in he back of his mind, for next time, not all but most. They sit next to a big window in what seems to be her hallway on a small decorative bench, it's big view mainly over the city and the water, he could see the other end of he boardwalk if he squinted hard enough. They talk about Hayden, for hours. He tells her she's fifteen now. Haydens father was there mothers lover and it feels sort of awkward at first like he's opening up old things he's hidden so well underneath the bed, but her face isn't too distraught she just takes it in, mechanically, like this is it, this is a person that's part of your life. "Does she know I'm.." "She knows you... you're alive." Everyone that needs to does, after all the craziness, and the mystery girl with Sophie's name on her headstone(he's always wanted to ask if Sophie knew this girl that looked so much like her but he doesn't dare, doesn't even let himself think about it too much right now.) He pleaded with everyone to just let Sophie be, and no he's not gonna send her up to England, he wants her to decide all of that on her own. One day on her own time and terms.

Harry offers that they can talk to her if she wants, but she shakes her head no, and doesn't push it further on.

Sophie gives him a small tour of he place and it's a big apartment for someone to live in alone, sort of. He asks in his own way if she's alright about ten times as he walks the halls and into a guest room, and through the massive kitchen, like "nobody bothers you?" and "are you sure you don't want to move closer in the city?"

When he leaves, she pushes his head at the jokes he makes on living so high in a building like she's on Home Alone or something and she laughs. Harry knows she's not a hugger-least not with him, but he pulls her into one when she's not expecting it. Sophie is frigid, there height is almost the same she's only two or three inches shorter than him and she squirms but eventually settles, and pats his back, not serious or affectionate. Harry holds on to her, she could say all she wanted but he was a good hugger.

When Harry gets home he actually checks his text messages when he found his phone in his left pocket of his jeans, he'd been searching everywhere in his car at first. Two from Zayn about tonight and he address of the damn club, and 'you think jade has a thing for es?' Harry sighs, 'we're on this topic again?' It takes a couple of hours before he gets anything back but his phone bleeps when he's laying down on his bed after a shower. 'yeah' 'wut happened?' 'it's like i'm the third wheel.' 'i mean its cool they hang and r close, like me and u but...' 'they arent me and u... but, but what?' 'spill tea, malik.' 'jade says some sus ass things, like in front of me and i wonder if es, just not picking up on it, or she's cool wit it.' 'talmbout "you're the one for me, nobody else Essie!" and they whisper a lot of shit behind my back, maybe not trash talk, but it dont sound simple either.' 'you tell jade to quit it?' 'no, i already talked about it with es, like she told me they kissed like way back but said it wasn't a big deal.' '& then she gonna ask about me and u.' 'lol what about me n u?' 'this the stuff es, sort of makes me side eye about bruv.' 'too much madness to send in one text! lmaooo!!' 'ya better get dem tings man!' 'lmaoo i hate you.' ':)' 'you getting ready?' Harry was about to reply when he gets a pic of Liam in his shirt and some boxers with a kissy face and all he possible emoji's and he can't help but laugh, he saves it for his background for September. Right now it's still the pic of Noel hitting himself with a tennis racket-really classic.

He sends Liam a 'i'll sell my soul for you.' And promptly gets a 'just callin me daddy is enuf ;)'

He goes back to texting Zayn. 'i just showered so yeah.. guess i am.' 'without me?' 'we talked about this...' 'lmfaooo better delete these txts before es, goes thru ur phone!' '!!!!!! SHUT UP!' 'HAHAHAA!!!!'

Everyone is there by around eleven forty, people are bustling in line, and Harry, Adrien and his "date",some Aussie model, who hates Real Madrid, and Harry just gives Adrien a very questionable look who also gives him a very questionable look, he sort of misses the days when Adrien used to date Flori. They are the one of the firsts of the group.They could go inside but he'd rather wait to see all of them first before they're thrashed in neon lights, heavy music beating against there heads. He see's Liam and Zayn walking towards them in the distance. At first he wonders where the girls are, but there right behind them. Sophie, Essie, Jade, and even Ros, have there arms linked like a chain, close knit and tight.The boys greet and chatter for a few minutes, so do the girls.

Sophie takes lead and the bouncer seems to recognize her and they're immediately let in. Harry gravitates to Zayn naturally, he looks a bit better, maybe not full on ecstatic about being here, but when was the last time they all clubbed together, right?

Kiss&Fly isn't actually that bad. Harry takes a look around and it's really actually not that bad. The dance floor seems to fill in a sea of people, dancing there hearts out and a bar that looks fancy with all it's bubbly drinks, the place is huge. There are acrobats hanging from the ceiling all around, and what seems like dubiously nude strippers high up on there poles. And Harry feels Liam hit his shoulder, "Bruh." he says. "I know." Harry only blinks at the sights he's seeing, it's sort of everything in one place but it wasn't trashy, or too uptight, and he still felt welcomed here.

Sophie guides them along and they get tucked into an open booth where she asks the waitress who's in something that looks ethereal and completely vulgar all at the same time,for a two bottles of something expensive and drinks all around. They chatter and get comfy around each other till drinks are handed and after that, Harry really can't question anything anymore. With a drink in his hand he see's Adrien and "Katie" humming something about dancing and after a few minutes, he doesn't see them for while, Essie and Zayn are tucked into each others company, Jade looks like she's in conversation with Sophie, in turn aren't really paying attention to him, Ros and Liam are long gone they probably went to join Katie and Adrien, he's not sure.

Harry calls over the waitress for a patron, he slides her five hundreds for exchange. She nods and comes back immediately with all of them in ones. Zayn catches his attention, spins his index finger up in the air, and Harry grins. Zayn doesn't know whether to be proud or mortified.

The next couple of minutes are somewhat retrospective to a blur. He's crowded by people, by dancers, and glitter and lights that wave across him like he's nothing. The strippers well they were just that, and he tosses money at there feet and he's having one hell of a time, because someone pulls him back into the dance floor. He spots familiar faces, Sophie here, Jade and Es there but they vanish and reappear ever so often. Girls approach him and he's not sure which one, but he pulls her close and looks her in the eye just to confirm she wants to be close-those types of things, he thinks he's pretty good at. He doesn't touch girls that don' want to be touched, anyone matter of fact. And he likes to use that sense a lot, you know grasp, pull, push, smooth, crush with his hands. He needs to feel it as much as he's allowed to.

The girl is really pretty as much as he can make out, she's blonde but her skin is tanned dark and her curls fall to her face. First her back is against his chest and she grinds on him, moving with the music, hands on her waist, to her hips. Then there face to face or face to chest, and Harry feels more people are gathering around, which is impossible and possible all at the same time, he really doesn't know. He's pulled into kiss, it's sweet, they taste like candy lipgloss and he pulls back. "Hu.." he only manages to pull out, but he keeps dancing as the girl smiles back at him, he'd ask her for her name but... "Harry." He hears it in the shell of his ear, he's not sure who said it, but when he turns slightly it's Adrien and Liam and they're all dancing all moving. Adrien isn't dancing with Katie, no it's two other girls or three and Liam is right behind Ros's frame and another girl is with them, making them all collide and look like one piece apart and not part of anything at all.

There's so many people here, it's exhausting really, how everyone is touching, smearing into each other like a mishap that was waiting to happen, and Harry feels his heart beating ridiculously fast.

He's still dancing and honestly he doesn't know how many times he's kissed someone in these sort of things, it doesn't bother him. He's single, and always has been after Taylor which feels like lifetimes ago. And no, he's always since then had sort of a heartbreak fever, acting like he can't see the signs of when a girl is attached. When they call and he doesn't, it's like he's in a void, just to get in and to get out, don't attach. He's always been good with the lovers to friends, friends to lovers then back to friends again thing because that's just what he does now, even if some people refuse to speak to him again, he isn't heartbroken about it.

A really fast beat song comes one, one with base you can feel all the way to your toes, the really good kind, that takes you to a place. He see's his friends here and there and even dances with them. Jade shy as always but he keeps it light and fun with her, He see's how Essie is attached to Zayn once when he turned around next to the mixing table, they're so fucking close, like she's about to melt into him, and how his hand curves to her ass, his eyelids low, staring at her.Essie is fit always has been and Zayn always had great taste, and they look like something completely out of a dream where you wake up hot to the touch, and you're not sure why your hips want to move so much, ache to press into something, but Harry see's Zayn sliding his tongue in her mouth and now he knows.

At his right, he spots Liam walking off, from the crowd of people with another group, and if Harry wasn't paying attention he would have missed Ros, looking back. There eyes meet and he instantly gravitates towards her, he tries to speak but the music is way too loud for regular distance.

"Where's Liam goin?" He speaks close to her ear. She bends forward, " I don't know. Old friends. I don't know... 'll be back." 'Ok' he mouths and he bends towards her again, "dance." She looks tired for a second, but it eases right off when he raises a brow at her-his stupid smile. Leading her to the dance floor started off light and energetic, he watched as she moved around with the beat, her long hair bouncing and strands sticking to her cheek, he was tempted to move. He doesn't remember how they got close, they haven't danced like this since there old high school parties forever ago. But this was different and maybe because the crowd was getting full and it was inevitable to not feel skin. But his hand is around her waist, easily feeling the skin there, fingers feeling the curve of her ribs, and her arms around his neck, that slide to his open chest and there foreheads are touching.

He doesn't think about letting go, and if she does and walks off, it's fine, he won't be hurt. She's not his, and never was. But he remembers so much with her as well as the way she used to look at Liam in high school, in the hallway back pressed against the locker room, as he'd saunter away in gym shorts and that laugh where he'd smile with his eyes barely visible. He never blamed her for falling in love with that. But he never got why Liam acted like he didn't notice her, or maybe he did;get as much as you can in high school, you only live once, and girls are beautiful and bountiful no need to just stick to just one-some stuff Liam would say in his own words.

But Roslin was Roslin, and he remembers when they became friends so quickly. He was inviting her to places (showing her off to Liam. Liam look she's here, Liam see, look how wonderful she is, look look look.), and copying off of her biology homework, and she laughed at his stupid puns, and they talked about a lot of things, what was going to happen after high school,and where the world is going and where they wanted to be, and when she'd cry on his shoulder. So she wasn't unfamiliar with him and he wasn't with her because it all felt so natural, even the fighting. A lot of things do. But she was never his.

Ros is turned around, her grip on him releasing, and swings with her heel and she's giggling "Sophie." She says, with a smile that's all warm and inviting. They keep, dancing till Harry melts off from the dance floor. He feels so exhilarated, fast tempered and just needs another drink. "1800, two." He says to the bartender who just smiles and nods. Looking around, he feels like he's in some heavenly fucked up fairy heaven with all the purple and blue lights, heavy heat of the people, and no one seems to give a care about the world outside. The bartender slides him his drink and he gulps it down one, right after the other. He's been drinking all night, from the various bottles, and Pierres' something to keep him up and high, and he'll regret this in the morning.

Harry see's Zayn at here table, he's standing up drinking something in his hand, and Harry walks over. "Haz!" They both laugh because well, shit they're both mildly drunk and why does it feel he hasn't seen him in years?He doesn't want to feel that, so he stands close to him, like it'll ebb the feeling away, putting his arm around his shoulder, he turns and talks in his ear. "...good. feeling good?" "Yeah," Harry feels Zayns breathe in his ear, "you?...I think I like this place." "Me too, i'm good, i'm good." And its psycho blabber, they talk about everything and nothing just standing there cheek to cheek in fast rhythm. Harry looks at him when Zayn turns his attention to the crowd, there's glitter all over his hair,and the way the pink and purple lights hit his face makes everything else background noise. He see's him frown and lick his lips, and he could easily turn to see what he's looking at, but Harry moves closer, puts his hand around his waist, and lops his fingers on the top hem of his jeans. Zayn doesn't flinch, would he need to? Harry's back hits a wall that he doesn't remember being there, and he's staring at Zayn who's grinning at him, and Harry smiles back like he wants to say something but doesn't, instead he's moving his shoulders, bobbing his head at the music and Zayn is doing the same. It feels familiar, like they've danced to this song before. This isn't really out of the ordinary, but if someone came up to them, in a very acute angle, it could look like something else, entirely on it's own, and Harry still has his hand on Zayn's waist, and Zayns face is so close to his. Harry's danced with each of the boys before, it's not something he's really ashamed of, they all have fun. Mostly with Adrien sometimes, and even Liam didn't mind as long as no one stepped on his toes. They usually kept it as it was, how they felt with the music. With Zayn at first he was a little stiff, but eventually get into it, with Harry he noticed he was calculating, they usually danced in sync, no one was able to tell who from who sometimes.

The music ends though, fades away into another song, and they both just smile at each other like a job well done, and Zayn presses a smile on Harry's shoulder, but eventually it passes. He won't talk about how his abs tighten a little, how he's already half-way hard, but it's expected and it's not urgent that it needs to be dealt with. He likes it, it's like a tease,a small pressure, a build up somewhere in his stomach and it makes everything else that more tantalizing.

Harry has no idea how, but he ends up on the roof, guessing that this is also another gift from Kiss&Fly, he remembers being pulled up the narrow stairs. There are already lights when he gets up to the roof, a complementary bar and contortionists all around. The music is a bit different here, it's slower a bit more threatening, and the dance crowd is as big as it is downstairs but they're sexier. Harry's eyes feel closed and open all at the same time but he feels a small hand in his, he see's Roslin. And he doesn't remember meeting up with her again, or how Adrien is dancing with Sophie and he's moving her hair to the side, but... Roslin calls his attention, she's so close to him, he doesn't realize that he has a grip on her and his hand is no where near appropriate, because he's gripping on her ass, and he can feel the light fabric of her dress, and it's not helping the roll of slight lust, and closeness of it all, it's heavy and she smells so sweet. But they just keep dancing,keep moving.

Hell, it takes a few moments, but they finally sort of unlatch from each other, and he leads her out of he dance crowd. He's smiling down at her, like he just came home from a long trip. Harry does wonder where Liam is, for a moment he misses his mate, but Ros starts up a conversation as they hang back from the crowd, leaning on a railing.

"I'm not really that mad at you anymore." She says and Harry just laughs. "Don't ever be, okay?" "I can't promise that." He laughs again, "that's true." So does she, and he's looking at her, this time from gleam lights that dance on her skin, and glitter is all over her too, he wonders if he looks like a sweaty idiot a he moment,so he shakes his hair in place. Her lips are a warm pink and her eyes light up, maybe as a warning or to be cautious. But Harry catches himself, checking her out, it's so hard not to. "I'm gonna go now." She says, but she's still standing there, "To find... I dunno... yeah." And she's not making any sense to Harry, she's probably drunk too. "Don't go." He honestly doesn't mean to say it, it was just stuck on his tongue, a thought that was not thought out correctly, but here it was, up in the air. "Did you really like my sister... like that?" She asks and she's turning her body towards him, they're close again. "No." He simply states, and its the god honest truth. "Then..." She keeps it as a question, maybe not sure how o fully ask it, but Harry gets it. "Idunno.... " he says in her ear, he doesn't need to be that close but still, "I liked you better, I've always have." She nods, like it's that simple, when he looks at her, like she's agreeing or understanding, and her lips pout a little, quive like she wants to say something. He feels it, the press of her lips, on his own, and he's kissing her. Not like that first time no, this is so different. He doesn't taste the salt of her tears or the helplessness of it all, and maybe she was imagining Liam in his place, maybe she is now.

But this feels soft and warm, and the small breathe on his cheek, and he keeps kissing her, pulling her close as her mouth opens up for him, his hand on her cheek, trailing fingers down he side of her neck. It's sort of an apology, but it's quaint, it's friendly, yet it's not; because Harry has kissed so many people before, to make them feel better, because they wanted it, or just cause. No deep perpetual life altering meaning. It's just for the time being, because Harry doesn't really want to believe in love. But he'll be a filler for anybody that needs it, for a moment, then it's gone.

When Harry wakes up, the sun is right in his eyes. Like he'd been resurrected. His ears feels like they've been exasperated by water. When he looks around, as slow and as weary as he is. He could be in a strangers house, it's happened. He'll have to think of an excuse, or show his way out. Or talk, he doesn't really like talking after one night stands. But if he wakes up in random places like his doormat, or just laying on someones couch he's fine, he'll even make them coffee, maybe, depends.

But he looks down and he's shirtless yet he still has on his pants on. The covers are familiar, he looks over and see's Zayn, sleeping quietly on his pillow, the covers up to his neck. He wants to ruin it so bad,the peacefulness of it all, but he lets his mate sleep, he'll make fun of him for drooling later.

Harry moves under the covers, and Zayn shoots up awake. He's always sucked at being subtle, quiet soft, it never works.

"Fuck." Harry laughs, "topofdamornin'" Zayn looks miserable like he wants to fall asleep again, but he puts his head back against the pillow and blinks several times. "What the hell happened?" "Beats me," Harry straightens up. They're in Zayns bedroom, and he has no clue how they got there, but they're there, in one piece... hopefully. "I think Soph, took us to an alternate universe and hoped we get trapped there." "True," Zayn looks like he's trying to get comfortable again, beating the pillow and all, but it's no use, they're up. Plus Harry won't let him go back to sleep now. "I think I can feel my brain, vibrating like to a Chingy song." "Mine too." Harry slinks back into the bed, rolls and lands on Zayn who is in no type of mood, but oh well.He puts his weight on him and Zayn protests, pinching Harry on his side,they play fight for almost twenty seconds, but it gets ridiculously tiring. Hangovers twice in a row is not a good look.

They move from the bedroom, and Kelly and Sophie are in the kitchen. They find, Adrien and a girl who sorta looks like Katie on the sofa sitting up, eating biscuits with jam and honey. Harry wants to barf.

"Look who's finally up." Sophie smiles, she has a hot cup of coffee, and Harry wants to steal it from her. Kelly looks at her brother, shaking her head "you guys look disgusting." Sophie laughs.

Zayn mimicks her voice, "shut up Ramziya." He has a full smile despite the headache approaching fast, and puts Kelly under his arm, fluffing up her big curls.

"STOP! Let go iblis! Shaytan!" Kelly squeals.

Harry decides to make him and Zayn tea instead. He rubs his eyes and Adrien is already walking Katie to the door, who waves and smiles and thanks them for a great night.

Kelly and Sophie take there conversation into Kellys room. He sighs and waits for the kettle, but see's Adrien look at Sophie, who's only wearing an oversized HPU sweater she probably borrowed and he see's his eyes linger, which... in any case irritates him.

It's not too far when it gets quiet and Zayn's looking at him, at Adrien and Sophie then back a Harry. "Haz," He feels Zayns hand on his shoulder, waiting. "It ain't a thing." He wants to let it go, 'not right now'.

Moments later Adrien, says he has to leave, he has castings in an hour. Harry hugs him though, he isn't outraged by his friend, and maybe it's another conversation for another day, but he really just wants to lay down. They bid goodbye and Zayn closes the door.

Harry and Zayn go back to Zayns room. It's half past noon and they've already finished there cups of tea, they're just laying down now. Wholesome as it feels the sun is still shining but they don't mind, the rays splay on Harry and he looks almost younger, innocent.

"I'm so tired." Zayn yawns and Harry can only nods. "I barely remember what happened last night, it feels like a really weird dream." "You'd think I fucked a stripper by the end of the night or a contortionist but just my luck..." Harry says sleepy as hell. "Mmh.No complaining" Zayn nods off to sleep and Harry follows suit.

Four hours later they get up, Harry showers in the guest bathroom and comes back into Zayns room. He's in one of Zayns really comfy sweat pants and he puts his hair in a neat bun. Zayn is already cleaned off, he looks new, and his hair is still wet.

It's only a minute but Sophie knocks on the door, she's fully dressed and cleaned up, Kelly peeks her little head in too. "Harry I need my keys." "I have em?" Harry asks. "Sh'yeah, I put them in your pocket when I had to drag you and Congo No.2 out of the club." Harry tips over, finds his pants on the floor and digs in its pocket, he stumbles on his phone at the bottom of Zayns bed to.

Sophie looks around the room, her first time ever really being in here. Her eyes land on some easels at the corner of the room, and she looks at them. The colors are pretty vibrant and there's more behind one than another.The stokes and blending, the interacite style they all have, one drawing after the other. "You did these?" She's looking at Zayn now and he nods. Kelly laughs, "I told you he was pretty good." "You got a lot of talent." And she means it and Zayn sort of looks shocked and Sophie laughs. "Thanks." Zayn smiles and Harry looks up mid conversation, and this is really nice picture, he thinks. Sophie puts them down and Harry hands her, her keys. "Hell you going." "Out." Sophie smiles like it's a challenge "I'm taking Kelly." "Kelly's being taken" Kelly laughs, and Sophie can't help but join her. Harry and Zayn both shake there heads as they leave the room.

Harry lays down on the bed again, and Zayn is looking at him with dark eyes. Harry can't read them, like they're still stuck on yesterday and what not, maybe somewhere even further.

"What?" Harry asks. It takes a minute for Zayn to settle, but he slides down from the head board, puts his head on a pillow that Harry already has his head on. "I think I want to take a break... from Essie." Harry is surprised, and worried, mostly worried because he's not sure where this is coming from. "You sure mate? I mean... like why?" Zayn shrugs and shakes his head and he can feel it, even if Zayn doesn't want to say anything, the pain of it all, like it's eating him up, but he can't speak right now. Harry kind of just stays there, staring till he can see Zayn lower his eyes. He doesn't have to talk now if he doesn't want to. "...I kissed Ros last night." Harry says to fill the silence. Zayn stares, like he's not sure if he's heard him right. Harry swallows, and it feels like a new weight along with the hangover, "and if I was a good person, I'd say I feel shitty about it, but I don't." "But Liam...he's gonna..." "Kill me, I know." "For fucks sakes.... you really?" Zayn is just stunned in silence. Harry turns on his side, they face each other more. "I'm a bad person." He breathes and it's a bit shaky and he never in a million years thought he'd do something like this, even if he didn't mean it's already done. "I kiss one of my bests' mates girlfriend, and I don't even feel bad about it. And Ros probably hates me, more than me, and I always do stupid ass shit like this, and this isn't even the first time, like.." "Shut up." Zayn pulls at his ear. "You're no a bad person, impulsive, and you think you thought shit through even when you haven't, but.." "I'm a bad person." "I said shut up." Harry does this time. "You just be honest, you're good at that... mostly." Zayn looks at Harry, and in a way it's sort of expected, he's seen Ros and Harry and how they act together but he never thought,it would lead into anything... like this... now. "I don't know why we did, she doesn't even love me, she loves Liam and..." "And Liam loves you." Harry scoffs. They sit in silence, just staring at each other like there solutions are in each other somewhere deep if they look hard enough. "You'll always be there for me? Like this, when I fuck up?" Harry asks, and Zayn almost looks offended, but he sighs. "Haven't I always?" "Yeah, of course." And Harry gets worried for a second, because inevitably time will tick and he'll end up tainting something so special to him he always has. "But sooner or later..." he continues,"you know I'm not good at... I always do something stupid, I don't wanna hurt Liam, this just really sucks.And Ros just came back from not hating me..." Zayn lets him babble out the words, even if some don't make any sense, he listens. After Harry is done rambling they lay there again, in even more silence that feels warm and he doesn't want to move. "Maybe in another time, it'll all work out." Zayn says out loud. The strays of sun are leaving his room. Harry moves his head to look at him, he scoots even closer, rests his head on Zayns shoulder, clasping there hands together, lightly. He speaks into Zayns shoulder, and it vibrates lightly, tickles Zayns collarbone. "I told you..."he sighs, "times just a concept."

He tells him. Harry tells Liam what happened. And it's ugly to say the least. It hurts, not when Liam punched Harry in the face, or swore he wanted nothing to do with him ever again. Because Liam started shutting people out. Slamming windows and closing doors, already trying to erase that Harry ever existed in his life, because two weeks later Harry finds a box of his old things laid by his feet when he opens the door. A sweater, some jeans and a snap back he ordered for Liam on his birthday, a bracelet he made him in arts class freshman year thanking him for letting him stay at his house for six months, and letters. They used to write each other stupid letters in high school. No one really knew about it, but they'd pass them to each other third period, or first lunch, each week something different something new.They'd write what they were thinking about mostly, who they thought they were at that time, and even today they don't really know. And this, this was like cutting off an arm or misplacing your fucking heart and Harry didn't want to think about it like that, so he picks up the box and puts it in the corner of the living room, not touching or looking at it.

It's two months and it's not the same at all. They don't hang out as much anymore well Liam just texts Zayn saying he can't make it if Harry is there and Harry is always there at first so Zayn just texts him back with an 'alright, i understand.'

Kelly, Zayn, Adrien and Noel eventually get sick of it though and Zayn makes Liam meet them at a corner bistro and Harry is still being indecisive about what to get and immediately gets quiet when Liam sits down across the table. He doesn't say anything, Harry just looks at Zayn and keeps his mouth shut. They order and it's slow but everyone starts chatting again. Adrien makes sly jokes here and there,Noel talks about his family for a little bit, and Liam mostly directs his conversation to Zayn. Harry is there but isn't, he just ques himself when he needs to, a nod here a chuckle there,he doesn't give much of a word just looks at his empty plate or gives a small smile to Kelly when she nudges him with her elbow and raises her brows. He doesn't get it though he's alright, he's not the one wounded here.

Harry is desperate to leave,just because he can. And he'd very much like to brood over his guilt for kissing his best mates girl and the sharp looks Liam is giving him under rounded corners when no one is really paying attention and Harry would love to say he wasn't but he can feel Liams eyes on him from time to time, and he just wants to go home.

"I think I'm just gonna call it a night." Harry smiles half way drifting himself from the group as they're walking into the parking lot. Kelly looks like she's about to protest but Noel beats her to it. "Why!? I thought we'd all stay over Zayns." "Nah, I gotta make it an early night." He smiles and hugs Noel, the one where he picks him off the ground a bit. It's fast but he says his goodbyes and walks to his car.

When Harry gets to his car he's pulled back by a hand on his bicep and he sort of spins on his heels, his arm recoils and snatches away from the grip but he's facing Zayn all of a sudden and he's somehow annoyed.

"So, you're just gonna be like that?" "For fucks sake Zayn." "You could try a little harder you know?" Harry looks over Zayn, seeing everyone across the lot still huddling over there cars, Liam turns his head at them once but turns to Noel as they get into their car.

He sighs moves a bit closer to Zayn so he doesn't talk so loud, "not like I haven't, you know communication works both ways? And Liam isn't fucking talking to me, hell you expect us to chat about? How me and his girlfriend tongue kissed? Real table etiquette and shit Zay."

Zayn shakes his head, takes out a cig and lights one up drawing out smoke. It's barely nine but the sky looks oddly dark, and the dim lights hitting Zayns face makes it unbearable for Harry to just stand there with Zayn disappointed, or whatever it is, Harry just wants to leave.

"No, but I don't even remember you really apologizing to Liam. Do you know how hard it was for me to get him here just to be in the same place with you?"

"Then why did you invite him in the first place?"

Zayn bites his bottom lip, takes another drag, "Haz, he's our best friend, and you were a fucking dick to kiss Ros, and you were moping around because you fucking missed him and I know you didn't mean to do all of that."

Harry blinks, leans back into his car, "maybe I should of fucked Ros, then you'd know what the fuck I mean and didn't mean to do."

He can see Zayn tense, the way he shuts off, and if it were anybody else they wouldn't have noticed but Harry always has to notice.

"If you like being a cocky ass bastard so much, then I guess you should just get in your car and leave like you always do."

"Zayn."

"Fuck it, you don't give a shit,I get it."

Zayn turns around, doesn't bother looking back, even if he wants to knock some sense into Harry, bring him back from whatever hole he's living in,this was never his problem. He throws the cig into the ground and crushes it with his shoe and starts walking back to his car.

"Zayn."

Harry gets into this place with heavy feet and a shirt that's mostly soaked because it started raining half way before he actually got home. He called Zayn twice while driving and texted him too but got nothing. He doesn't try again till he's out of a hot shower and his inbox is still empty. He falls asleep on the couch watching something usless on Discovery and wakes up at around eleven and still nothing.

Zayn doesn't bother with the texts and lets all of Harry's calls go to voicemail after a while. He hated it when Harry acted like this. And it isn't his fault that Harry can get out of control and take out his passive frustrations on everyone else. Liam barely talks about it, and if he knew Liam he wouldn't of went to dinner with them, if he didn't want to. But he was there and it's been months already since they even seen each other. They were both fucking idiots he thought, Harry being the biggest one at the moment.

Zayn is in his bed when his phone rings, at first he expects Harry but Essies name lights up instead. He could answer the phone or maybe just let it go to voicemail,maybe she needs something or, she has something to say, what the hell could she say after everything? But he loves her, he always has.

"Hey." He answers. "Hey." It's quiet on her end and he can hear her breathing softly and he has no clue what to say right now if he's being honest. "It's been a while huh?" "Yeah," He breathes, "how.. how are you?" "...I'm okay,and you?" "It's all good." "Yeah?" "... no." He's not sure whether to laugh at that or not. "Me too." She confesses, and he can hear the slight break in her voice, and something in him refuses to respond to it,doesn't want to believe he's breaking just a little bit. He could of avoided all of this if he didn't pick up the fucking phone.

Harry was about to go to sleep in his room when he hears someone knocking on his front door. He clumsily turns on the hallway lights and rubs his tired eyes before he swings open the door. Zayn's standing out side his door shirt soaked, he puts up a bottle in front of Harry's face. "Invite me in." Zayn mutters but ends up laughing a little bit at how he sounds, like someone off of True Blood or one of those horrible TV shows he barely pays attention to. Harry feels relieved in a way to see his fucking face he wants to ask if Zayn's alright, but he leans against the door frame reaches out and touches Zayns wrist that's holding the bottle, pulls on him slightly till he's in the doorway and they're face to face. "This is your place too, where's your key?" "Oh." Zayn looks at the floor for a second, his feet trying to balance himself and he's not sure if he's succeeding,"I'm not sure." Harry sighs and pulls the bottle from Zayns grasp, pulls him further into the apartment and shuts the door.

They're in the kitchen and Harry is quiet for a change, just lets Zayn say the words that come out, lets him speak or not. He sat him on one of the kitchen stools and put away the bottle and hands him a bottle of water instead and makes him drink the whole thing even when Zayn tried protesting. "I'll bloody, pour this water through your ears if you don't quite mate." "Fine. Fine, give it."

Zayn talks about Essie, about how she called, what they talked about and how he doesn't really wanna talk about it again. "We're... just over." He says finally, his eyes looking at the floor and it's so fucking quiet. "Love, I'm sorry." Harry slides his hands on either side of Zayns face his thumb rubbing slightly at his scruff. They're so close now and Harry's eyes are soft. Zayn looks up at him, he's not sure if Harry ever called him that before, or maybe he just wasn't paying that much attention, but he's tired, so fucking tired,but it sounded soothing coming out of Harry's lips. "Love..." Zayn chuckles and places his hand gently over Harry's, "That's the problem with me isn't it?" "Hardly."

It's somewhere between two and three in the morning, but they finally move out of the kitchen, Zayn was going to try to knock out on the couch but Harry led him maybe a bit forcefully into his room instead and threw a pair of sweats at Zayn. There was a bathroom in Harry's room he could change in.

Zayn turns the bathroom lights on,doesn't bother really closing the door behind him and slides out of his wet shirt and pants and stands only in his underwear. Harry lays back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling and then the window, it's still storming outside. The only light is the one coming from the bathroom. Harry is always so guilty of watching Zayn and it's sort of dark anyway, maybe Zayn just doesn't notice when he does.

Zayn sighs when he splashes his face with cold water, it sort of sobers him up a bit, his vision isn't as off as before. He dries his face, and puts on the sweats, when Harry walks into the bathroom.

"You feel a bit better?" He asks. "Yeah... a little, I didn't freak you out did I?" Harry smiles, "not as much as you always do" he teases. It gets quiet but the sound of the storm outside and Zayn rubs the back of his neck, and Harry crosses his arms and leans against the counter. Zayn feels Harry's hand on his shoulder a few moments later and he looks at him again through the bathroom mirror, not sure when he got so close but he suddenly wants him closer just an inch closer to feel something... and as if he read his mind, Harry is in front of him, he rests his head on Zayns shoulder feeling him breathing,and Harry's hand ghost down his back and Zayn is so still. He's never really bothered by this, and Zayn isn't really sure why or how since he met this kid, they seem to cling to each other like one is going to lift away any moment now so they hold on, the grip isn't as obviously urgent as before but it's there. They were supposed to be a little happier now, maybe this is just a force of habit.

"I'm sorry... about last night." Harry says finally,"I didn't..." "I know" Zayn turns to Harry a bit, he licks his lips and sighs. "I want to go to bed." Harry only nods, he drops his hand from his back, his knuckles lightly brush over Zayns and he walks out of the bathroom.

They slide into the sheets one after the other with space between them and Harry yawns a bit, he still can't really sleep now,just looks up at the ceiling.

"Remember that place we found, over that hill behind our high school?"Zayn asks. Harry rubs his eyes,"Huh?... what place?" "That place... well it wasn't really a place just someone kinda built a fort in that ditch remember, the one, and it had like a table... and it had all those really weird things and we'd go there after school during freshman year, you fucking fell face first into it Harry." "Oh, you would remember that." He closes his eyes. "What about it?" "You think it's still there?" Zayn turns to his side, brings his pillow closer underneath him. "Might be, but they'd close that place off if they found out about it." "We should go there again, if it's still there." Harry smiles with his eyes closed, he only moves on his side and looks at Zayn who's looking right back. Harry can still smell the slight tint of alcohol, he doesn't care about it he just breathes it in. "Yeah, we should." Harry smiles,"I'd like that."

Harry can barely remember now, it's not freshman year, hasn't been for a while. But those simpler moments he has a harder time remembering. It could have been June or August, he isn't sure, but he remembers mud underneath his shoes, and Zayn scuffing the hem of his shirt going down there, and bringing their own little things like Zayn with his comics, mostly Marvel and other bibs like The Walking Dead, Ghost World, Sin City and comics from Vertigo. Harry had most of his books that he promised himself he'd read all of them when the summer ended but only finished Catch 22 and barely made it to the fifth chapter in some biography on Frida Kahlo, Twilight was one of his selections and he never really finished anything.

He doesn't remember talking about that place with Liam or Adrien at that time, and he's not sure why, there wasn't anything that was 'secretive' about it. Maybe that it was just calling on him and Zayn, but it was nice and quiet mostly. And he remembers it better now as he's looking at Zayn in his bed and they're both half asleep sort of, just drifting and staring at each other. He remembers now, maybe Zayn brought it up for a whole different reason, but he remembers when he went to the ditch somewhere in June or August, and his eyes were red and their was dirt under his fingernails, and Zayn was on a makeshift couch reading Essex County, a comic Harry recommended a while ago that Zayn finally got to reading. And how Harry kneeled in front of him his hand on Zayns knee and "I don't wanna go back." And Zayn didn't really understand what was going on, but Harry's eyes were so red and his cheeks puffy. "If I go back, I'll never see any of you guys again, I'll never see you again." "Harry..." He moved closer and sat on the couch and took Zayn's hand in his. Zayn was so confused at first, his throat felt dry and Harry didn't have tears running down his cheeks, but you could tell they were there before. He'd never seen any one look so serious, which was a contrast to how Harry always was. It felt sad, it felt terribly sad at that moment and Zayn didn't have a clue on how to fix it. But Harry sniffed and said the words out fast, his hands in Zayns, his grip tightening on each word. "Swear you'll never forget me. Swear. Swear you won't leave me, cos I'll never leave you Zayn... I'll never fucking leave you. I don't wanna go back there, it's hell, and I don't ever want to forget you cos I have a shit memory you know that, so I just wanna stay with you and Liam, and Adrien. I don't belong anywhere else." He's breathing but it feels like he's choking on the words and he holds back his tears so well, "my life is here, my life is here with you, so just swear, just swear to me you'll never leave."

"I swear, Harry I swear." Zayns voice came out shaky unintentionally.He says it and he's not sure if he's right to promise this, but he does even if he was scared all of a sudden. The words had rushed out but he meant them none the less.

He remembers that day so well, how Harry looked scared out of his mind, even when he tried to hide it. He remembers his scruffy hair and the way he leaned on him and never let go of his hand, Zayn never let go. Even when embracing him to calm down and they stared at each other for the longest time, so close as they are now on this bed. He remembers it happening quickly like when someone tells you to look at the sky but you miss whatever it was they were pointing out. He remembers Harry kissing him, fast and bit rough at first, shaky and lost. His lips were a bit dry and Zayn didn't really kiss him back, and when Harry got the hint he moved away but Zayn somehow in him couldn't have that so he moved closer and leaned in again. They were inexperienced and so young, but he remembers it, how their noses touched and the way Harry looked at him with each little kiss, as if asking to do it again and again. Zayn let him, till they were leaning back against the couch, kissing each other idly and there skinny bodies had fit together.

They both remember that day so well. Harry reaches out in the dark and feels the scruff on Zayns cheek on the palm of his hand, he can see and feel him smiling, Harry leans and kisses Zayns cheek. "We can go tomorrow, good night." Zayn feels warm all of a sudden like he did back then in June or August on that hot day in the middle of the summer, when they were holding on to each other, laying on that couch. Zayn thinks for a moment how they've never really talked about that kiss, not that he wanted to, or didn't want to or were either of them embarrassed about it he doesn't really know. "Night."

They wake up earlier than expected. And by the afternoon they're driving down to their old high school and stop right at the back of the parking lot. They walk the path that leads into the hill of the park and walk off it for about ten minutes heading east.

"You sure you know where it's at?" Harry asks, walking right behind Zayn. "Yeah, we walked here like a million times, I know where we're going. " Zayn says and moves further down the hill. Harry only laughs, but just then they come across the old ditch, and to their disappointment it's fenced in now.

"Too many looters... they boxed the place in." Harry curls his fingers against the metal fence, trying to peak into whatever is left of it. They still see the old table and the couch that was there isn't anymore, new and old chairs are sitting in the dirt, the old graffiti covered up by new ones. "You think there's anything to save? We could hop the fence." "Why would we do that? Theirs a big sign that says no trespassing." "Never stopped you before." Harry laughs, "besides I think I lost that key chain you gave me in here." "I gave you a key chain?" "Yeah the one where it had my name and the meaning and all that rubbish, said it was the last one at the shop." Harry starts bracing himself up and climbs the fence, keying his foot in the hole to steady himself and he's already high enough when Zayn yells at him to get down. "Harry seriously, we don't need to actually go inside, do you know how many bad horror movies start out with a white boy climbing over a fence that says not to?" Harry only climbs further till he pulls himself to the other side of the fence, climbing down and jumps into the dirt and faces Zayn on the other side of the fence, like it didn't take much effort. "Pussy." Harry teases through the wire. "I'm not saving your ass if theirs an ax murderer in there waiting." "You would, you're just being chicken shit." "I'll beat your ass." Harry laughs mockingly as he turns around and kicks through the a pile of old wood and debris. "Don't think I won't..." Harry turns to him, grinning "might as well..." Zayn feels his lips curving into a stupid smile despite himself, he shakes his head and puts his phone in his back pocket and jumps the fucking fence.

"We gotta make it quick" Zayn says as he's rummaging through some things he has no idea if it's garbage or just things people left behind not really sure if he's looking for anything either, place is a pile of nothing now. Solely what makes the 'floor' is breaking and mostly dirt clings to there shoes the trees have over grown they cover most of everything there. He walks over to what used to be a wall, nailed were ply boards against the earth. People left messages, names, numbers, stupid sayings and sometimes drawings. At the corner of it he finds the dragon. Something he drew with a silver sharpie when he was bored. He chuckles at the old technique cuz he's much better at drawing now,then he was back then but it's till good, it's scales, it's claws had the right shading and angle. The coloring of it faded a little but next to it was his handwriting in Arabic, small but still visible, ياسر (Yasir). His fingers move over the words, right to left, tracing over the alif and lastly the ra at the end. Harry is right behind him at first he was going to show him something he had found, but he stuffs it in his back pocket instead and looks at Zayn with his back turned still looking over the wall. He doesn't ruin the moment just stands there quietly till Zayn comes back.

Zayn turns to Harry and right when he's about to say something... "HEY!" They hear up above from the other side of the hill, Harry spots one of the park officers walking down fast. "Fuck," He breathes, Harry grabs Zayn by the wrist and they start climbing the fence. Zayn makes it down faster than him, but waits a beat till Harry is down too. "Run! Run!" Harry chuckles, out of habit, and they dash off the opposite way as the officer tries to catch up. They run through the woods of the park, blurs of green passing by them till they find there original path, they don't slow down, they move as fast as their feet can carry them, and even if they out run the officer the adrenaline is high. When they spot the car still parked near the school Zayn runs to the driver side of it and Harry immediately tosses his car keys at him, Zayn unlocks the car, they both get in and speed away as fast as they can.

Zayn is about two miles out of North Shore, they've been laughing and talking exceedingly fast but he had to admit it was fun. "I'm not doing that shit again." "Yeah we fucking are." Harry laughs, "Did you even find that stupid key chain?" Zayn muses, "you get me into the most stupidest shit West." "You love it." Harry grins, like he's proud of himself for todays little adventure. Zayn looks over at him and shakes his head as they stop at a red light. "And..." Harry begins, "I lied about the key chain, I just wanted you to go with me." He chuckles. Zayn drives at the green light but manages to hit Harry right in the chest for that one. "Ow!" "You deserve it asshole." Harry only laughs harder and Zayn pinches his side.

They get at Harry's apartment and before Zayn gets out of the car Harry stops him. "Hey I found something back over there at the ditch," He reaches into his back pocket, "well two things actually." He has what seems like two papers in his hand, one small and black the other bigger and off white from the aging of the paper.

He unfolds the smaller one first, and Zayn see's it's actually isn't just paper but what looks like a beaten up comic book. "Marvels X-Men, I think this is one of those exclusive versions you love so much I don't know." Zayn takes the comic from his hands,it's not too bad, the pages are worn but still legible. He smiles a bit, "You knew you'd find this there didn't you?" Harry was about to speak on the other paper in his hand, but he looks up and smiles off guarded, "you said you lost it, last time I saw you reading it was there."

Harry looks at Zayn, "I was just gonna get you a new one," he continues, "but I saw it, thought it do some good if it actually went back to its owner." Zayn holds on to the comic tight, not sure what to say.

"But hey, I saw this..." Harry unfolds the second paper it feels rough against his hands, but when he splays it out on the dashboard, "it's a map." Harry smiles, "Well half of a map."

It looked like it was ripped out of a geography book or atlas but it had all the continents, but half of the West side North America was gone. It had pen marks and high lighting on most world known cities, New York, Tokyo, London, Paris, Athens it went on. Others were circled in red like Alexandria, Tel Aviv, Ibiza, Shang hai, Brussels, Melbourne, El Augustino and others. "It belonged to someone else, here," Harry points to the corner of the map and it read 'Property of R.M.' Zayn slides out of his seat belt and looks at the map. He see's the small print of cities over there countries, places he hasn't even really heard of before, his fingers ghost to east of Asia, mostly India over Pakistan and Kirghistan, down to east of Africa, Eritrea Sudan, Tanzania, Zambia. He started again more to the west of it, Ghana, Liberia, he wondered how Côte d’Ivoire looked like in person for a second. His fingers touch the small dots on the map, some places he could have missed if they weren't circled. It must be nice he thought, seeing different people, looking at different lands, how it would feel to be lost for a moment in a place he hadn't a clue about. It's scary, but thrilling at the same time being somewhere that wasn't here.

"You found this down there?" He asks "Yeah, I dunno, it's kinda interesting ye? Think maybe this person went to all these places?" "Maybe... probably," Zayn looks at Harry for a moment, "you've been to some of these places right?" Harry shakes his head, "Hell no mate, not like this. Maybe here and there but, my passport isn't that full yet."

For a second it's quiet and Zayn is still looking over the map, reading the side notes and arrows across the map, this person made.

"We could go." Harry says when Zayn isn't looking. "What?" Zayn looks at him "All these places? That take years." "We could pick and choose." Harry slides his hands underneath his thighs, a nervous habit when he isn't sure how things will go. "Besides, we can use a little vacation." "So just leave like that?" Zayn shakes his head "I'm not... I don't know. You would do that? Go to all these places?" "With you, of course." Harry looks like he's trying to debate whether or not this could be a good idea. He knows he'll worry about Kelly and everyone else but, this could be fun maybe just something that won't have them sulking and drift because of everything thats happened. They forget about it all for a second, replace it all with mountains, and landmarks and people speaking something he won't really understand. "When would you wanna go?" Zayn asks. "Now. Tomorrow,if you want... whenever " Harry smiles, he's always so quick to have everything happening here and now.

Zayn laughs, nervously kind of because honestly going on a trip does sound alluring, it does sound like something he's always wanted to do and it's fucking terrifying and Harry is so willing he can see it in his green eyes and the way he purses his lips. An adventure, an escape, he won't have to keep wondering how all these places he's wondered about, he could be with his best friend as they figure out whatever it is they're seeking after.

After a moment, Zayn smiles warmly, "Yeah, we can go. But... how far do you wanna go?"

Harry stares, trying to contain something in him, he smiles right back and shrugs, "As far as you wanna go."

They tell Kelly and Sophie mainly how they'll just be gone for however long, they make up a date and everything mostly so they don't find it too odd. Both swear to check in every now and then on the both of them. Sophie is just happy Kelly and her have more time to hang out without those trolls bothering them.

"Stay safe." Kelly hugs Zayn tight. "You stay safe, Ramziya, really I mean it." He looks down at her and she's smiling. "I will, chill man." She chimes "I'll stay good, it's you i'm worried about concurring the world and all." She pulls on the end his jacket a little bit. The taxi outside honks, waiting for Zayn. "I won't concur all of it, I'll be back before you know it." They're quiet for a moment. "Habiti." Zayn smiles. "Habibi." Kelly smiles back. He steps back for a minute and picks up his duffle bag, but Kelly hugs him again, rushing the air out of his lungs and he hugs her just as tight. "Just have the time of your life okay?" Kelly says in his ear, she kisses his cheek, "you deserve it."

Zayn gets into the taxi, Kelly waves when it starts driving away, Zayn watches as the wind picks up her curls and he waves back from the back of the cab.

He walks into the airport, Harry had texted him the night before telling him they'd have a separate terminal all he needed was to show his ID and TA would lead him to a gate.

He finds Harry with his glasses on and a light jacket he has books out all highlighted and sprayed out in the waiting area, the map in his hands.

"Hey" He smiles. "Hey." "You ready?" Harry asks, closes the books and Zayn takes the seat next to him. "I think so, what were you reading?" "Just some things, to pass the time. I was looking at the map again, and I think it's a puzzle." "Seriously?" "Yeah R.M. who ever the fuck they are, I'm just hoping they aren't a fucking psycho path" he chuckles "but... they write these little things, kinda have to pay attention to it, kinda like clues." Zayn looks over the map and he's right, but the words are bits and pieces 'find esmerelda', 'wish away something special.' It's all gibberish really but it's still interesting to find out what it all means. "It's cool and all, but where do we even start Haz?" Harry just shrugs and moves back his glasses. The only thing I saw significant kinda is this, he points to the Mediterian Sea, "it's the only sea circled. But, I found something else." Harry takes the map into his hands and turns it over on its back, he points to the very middle, "they left us as a bloody quote." Zayns amused he looks over and it read,

<i>'For what it’s worth,it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again' </i>

below it was something writing in red ink it said, <i>'the person(s) who are looking into this map, know you're looking into a glimpse of what was my world, but it isn't anymore. This map is yours now, what you do with it is up to you. Wherever you go leave nothing but memories, honestly that'll be only thing left when it's all done. Anyhow good luck, good love! R.M. </i>

Zayn and Harry finally face each other huddled close with warm eyes, and something that tastes like solace in there mouths.

"You want to go to Malta?" Zayn asks.

It's eight thousand and forty-four miles from Hawaii to Malta, the hours are despicable even if you are on a private jet, and airplane food is airplane food, with everything you need in a jet plane a thousand or so latitudes up into the air.They both zone in and out after a few hours of talking and laughing and Zayn knocks out most of the flight anyway so Harry just takes pictures outside there window and tries something to occupy his time before he's asleep.

When they finally land, the flight attendant announces there arrival. "Hey" Harry nudges Zayn a bit, and Zayn doesn't stir "I'm leaving this fucking plane and jumping into the first beach I find", Harry places his forehead on Zayns shoulder and he groans, "with or without you, wake up, we're here." "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Zayn pushes him away, his limbs tired and he's groggy. "Stop, okay okay Harry." He stretches and his arms out and Harry is already up smiling he peaks through one of the windows, its bright and sunny as much as he can tell. Zayns barely opening his eyes, just sits in his seat for a minute and looks around. It takes a while but he can feel it, the slight change, even if he hasn't left the plane yet. It settles in him just a little bit. "We're here mate." Harry says suddenly, he has his duffle bag in one hand and Zayns in the other but he puts them down on the seat. Zayn smiles, "kinda feels weird." He says without really thinking it. "Of course it does, I bet it'd feel better if we get off this plane and see what's out there," he pauses, "something wrong?" "No, no, just I don't know... it feels different but cool different." Zayn smiles, Harry can't help but to do the same either as relief passes him just a little bit. He wasn't concerned that Zayn would want to back now, even if he did, he just wanted to know what was on his mind, with what they were doing, with this map, this adventure of sorts, it would be really hard to know what to expect since everything had been so sudden.

"Mr. West." one of the flight attendants comes up, with a small smile on her face she looks at Zayn then at Harry, "sorry to interrupt but,there's a car outside waiting for you, out of the terminal, it'll take you to wherever you'll need to go." She hands something to him that Zayn doesn't see and smiles at the both of them, "I hope you two enjoy your stay and welcome to Malta." She turns around and goes back into the back of the plane.

Harry thanks her, and slides his hand in his pocket and looks at Zayn again. "Lets go." Zayn smiles warmly "Alright."

When they get to the car Zayn is a bit confused, and Harry well... "What the bloody fuck." "Harry." "No. What. The. Fuck." "It's not that bad." Zayn scratches his head, kicks the wheel of the 'car' and it's a bit soft. "Not that bad? Are you mental? This is a fucking station wagon, one from the bloody 1800's mate!" "They didn't have- nevermind, Harry just go inside and ask them about it." As they turn an airport attendee approaches them, and the look on Harry's face isn't very polite or approachable, and he's speaking Maltese at Zayn with an apologetic look on his face and they end up just both looking confused cuz it sounds a bit like Arabic but it isn't. "I don't...no, do you speak English?" Zayn gives him a small smile. "Oh, I am sorry. But. Mr. West... eh the car company apologizes for there mistake on your reservation, there must have been a mix up, but since we are so busy and other cars cannot be switched since we do not have any more cars in the lot, we cannot fix this dilemma till tomorrow morning. We apologize for any inconveniences. If you want eh... we can call another company, free of charge." Harry unfolds his arm, and stays quite, Zayn looks back at him a bit confused. A small nod from Harry to tell him to go on and Zayn's lost as to why he isn't correcting the poor guy. "Mr. West?" He says. "Uh yeah...." Zayn turns back at him, his hands sliding into his pockets and he's wondering why he just spoke. "It's fine actually, but it isn't a big deal, thanks for letting us know." He turns to Harry and motions his eyes towards the guy, for Harry to do something. Harry only walks to the attendee and hands him a couple euros, he kept in his wallet "Grazzi, grazzi." He smiles, nods at Zayn and Harry once, hands Zayn the keys and walks away.

Harry is laughing, the one where his dimples show and his cheeks are so tight, it's a bit unnecessary but he found it too amusing not to. "Thanks for letting us know..." Harry mimics Zayns voice. "What the hell was I supposed to say?" Zayn tosses the keys to Harry, "you weren't saying shit, and he looked terrified." Harry only sighs looking at the thing. It was a Volvo, one with a rusted red color, like they kept recoloring it over and over, but the paint chipped away through each agonizing year or ten. "I reserved an Audi, even a fucking Hyundai would have sufficed." "It's a car, it'll get us there right?" "Yeah.. I guess" they both put there bags in the trunk and get into the car. "Where exactly is 'there'?" Zayn asks, he has to adjust that the passenger sits on the left side of the car on this side of the pond. Harry shrugs, "We're in the capital",he takes out the map from his inner pocket of his jacket, "R.M circled Valletta, so we can find a hotel or something there." It takes more than an actual minute for the thing to start, Harry had to hit the ignition and bang on the steering wheel till it started up. "And here we go..."

The thing about Valletta is that it looks like a myth. Something out of dungeons and dragons or some untold land, and Zayn practically has his face out of the car window feeling the cool breeze. It smells heavy of saffron and something he can't place, but the bustling people and the crowded small roads, make him feel both claustrophobic and freed. Every building seems old and rustic, the city is tanned and it's still pretty early in the day and his lips can't help but smile how different this all is. It's nothing like Hawaii it's smaller and the architecture is hundreds of years old, and he's not sure if he can seep this all in so he takes out his phone and snaps pictures whenever they get to a fork. He glances at Harry after a while, and his eyes are both on the road and on his phone looking something up. Harry has always been a hell of a driver, even back home he constantly drove faster than he should have, and after countless pleading to not have him kill everyone in his backseat, he got a bit better, but his knuckles would whiten slightly each time he had to actually slow down at a yellow light, Zayn would notice and rub Harry's shoulder. Here,he drove a bit more freely like he was already familiar with the streets. "No texting and driving." Zayn chimes, he snaps a picture of a barque style building, it arches, and the ocean is it's background, the lighting is perfect.He takes one of Harry when he n't looking. "I'm trying to find us a hotel, but everything says it's fucking booked." Someone honks behind them. So much for an impromptu adventure. Harry drives again, Zayn casually takes the phone from his hand and goes through all the trip and hotel apps, goes on google and bing finding nothing. After a moment Harry seem's to be driving aimlessly really. "Where we going?" "I dunno." He mumbles a bit aggravated, he makes a sharp turn in a corner alleyway when someone on a bike passes them fast and they find themselves jammed in traffic. "Great." They're stuck in a bend, Harry sighs loudly and Zayn looks at him once then out the car window again. Zayn doesn't say anything at first just watches the scenery, a black BMW in front of them, the cobble walls of the old buildings around them, someone selling produce in big carts and thick woven bags full of spices. There were people walking and biking around them, talking loudly, honking from a distance. Everything was so close, if he reached his hand far enough from the car window he could swipe an apple from the stand or touch someones wrist, but he doesn't. He looks at Harry, who's frustrated because he keeps lightly tugging at the end of his hair, one hand on the steering wheel and looking straight ahead, like as if he concentrated enough he could move everything out of his way. "We can park and look around." Zayn says, "It's the middle of April we can find something,isn't this place like a tourist destination or something? I'm doubting every fucking hotel here is booked." "Yeah,we can.... I don't have a better idea so..." Harry breathed, the cars start moving again. "We can start by the water front there should be something there."

It took an hour to get to the water front or anywhere near it, each block they passed there seemed to be more and more people coming around, walking up and down the sidewalks, bikes and buses and trolley's. Harry parked the old car in the only space he could find on top of a hill, jammed into other cars.It was staring to get hot, so he cut off the engine and looked at Zayn, who was too busy looking around, in his duffle. "Im sorry." He says and Zayn looks up at him a bit confused. "For what?" Zayn smiles a bit, he finds his wallet he was looking for and puts it in the pocket of his jeans. "I didn't want to fuckin drag you around, we're supposed to be relaxing.I shoulda planned this better at least." "We have no plan remember? We're just going along with what we want and that map. We'll find something, stop worrying." "You not tired?" "I will be once we find a room, and a bed i can knock the fuck out in."

Harry smiles, and they both get out of the car,he walks to the other side where Zayn is standing, Zayn puts an arm over Harry's shoulder and they start walking down the hill.

The walk down was brisk, and the sun felt nice on Zayns skin, they were surrounded by people walking in the same direction as they were. The real tourists, with the Canon cameras and the sun hats, the shorts the sandals, snapping pictures here and there emerged and flooded the place. It was nothing like the boardwalk back home in Hawaii, not really sure he could compare the waterfront to anything really. Looking up he see's what this place was really made of. The wind wasn't particularly strong but a gust of pink and lavender petals flew past them in the air, they couldn't help but look up. They noticed everything was practically stacked together, the buildings the hills upon hills the buzzing of the cars, he looked ahead before heading down a corner, people were hanging flags and flowers up on the lines. Orchids flung from one building to the other connecting and hanging down, the strand of petals floating in the air-right above them, some not picking much wind at all and others falling to the ground. Zayn felt the light press of Harry's hand on his wrist and he turned to him "This way, we have way more to see." He smiles.

They find the walkway easy, most of the signs are translated in English anyway. At first Harry stops, the ocean against them, and Zayn leans on the stone hedge. "Stand there, I gotta take a picture of you." Harry says, as he picks at his phone from his pocket. Zayn isn't really coy, he just laughs, "you want me to model for you? make it a postcard we can send." He smiles. "That'd be great, oh yeah just give me Hasselhoff. Put your arms behind your head and flex." "Im not fucking doing that! "Then pose, Tyrese Beckford!"

It didn't take them long at all to find a bistro down the walkway it was full of stores and places to eat near the water. Harry ordered breakfast since it was still barely ten in the morning. "You want to call?" "Huh?" Zayn puts down his mug of coffee "Yeah.. yeah I do." Harry takes out his phone and calls Kelly, he hears her moments later with a patchy "hello" and hands the phone to Zayn. "Ziya..." He smiles wide to hearing her voice, they talk for a while, she asks how they're both doing, where the hell they are, what it looks like there, if he's going to send postcards, she misses him and it's only been technically a day that they've been apart and Zayn smiles brightly with an, "I miss you already." Harry talks to Kelly too, she makes him laugh about how they better not get kidnapped, or she'd have to use her certain set of skills, and her imitation of Liam Nelson in Taken is priceless. "...and how is..." "Sophie's good, she came by earlier in the morning, we're thinking about going in our own adventure." "You barely know how to get to Waikiki Beach." Harry teases, he smiles at Zayn who's listening to the whole thing as he finishes his breakfast. "You ass! You'll see we're gonna go to Thailand or something, I'mma take Noel too." Harry laughs, "good luck on that, want me to have Zayn worried now or later?" Zayn quirks a brow. They both laugh through the phone. "Hey Harry.." "Yeah, Kellz?" "Bring me something good and....I miss you." "I miss you too, tell Sophie I'll call soon. I'll call everyone soon too, I know it's late over there so we'll try tomorrow." "Okay I will. And one more thing..." "Hmm?" Harry turns a bit to look at the people walking along, a group of girls pass by and giggle, he just turns to look at an amused Zayn. "Take care of him." "Always."

They end up walking around for another hour, they went into Hampton, Osborne, Castille, all the other four/five star hotels because Harry refuses to stay somewhere with no functional internal heating and an ice machine, wifi was already aparent. All of them are booked and reserved and Harry is too tired to argue. Zayn only sorta rolls his eyes but he can't complain even if he is tired but the walk through the city is heavenly.

The place was filled with music too, performers with there violins and guitars, a hang drum and a straw hat that people leave money in. Zayn stops in front of an old building one with tattered blue curtains, like sapphire; flapping in the air of the doorway. Harry is only steps away before he steps back joining Zayn. They look at the old man playing his guitar. He's singing in Maltese and his fingers strum the steel strings and move up and down the frets flawlessly. Zayn is pulled by the music the old man singing softly as he sits in the doorway his grey curly hair in a messy bun. there's something about it, the mellowness of it, gentle,but how he sounds... strong. Harry stands right next to Zayn awed by the music only one man is producing. When he turns to see Zayn face he see's the captivation, something he's seen in him so many times before. Zayn looks at Harry who gives him a warm smile. When the song ends, Harry takes some euros out of his pocket and reaches down and tries putting it in the straw hat. "That was beautiful," Harry smiles. The man stops him. "No," he looks up at Harry with a toothy grin, "no no, just memories." Harry is a bit confused, the skin between his brows pinching. "I'm sorry, memories?" Harry crouches down to the mans level, there eyes meeting,wanting to understand. The man looks a bit behind them as Zayn walks over, and smiles again. "Memories," he says again. "You write memories and put it in the straw hat, that's all I want." He moves a notepad and pens behind him he tears out a piece of paper and hands them to Harry. "Write your favorite memory anything you want really, then pick a piece of paper in the hat before you drop yours in, read it out loud and that's it." Harry looks back at Zayn who bends on one knee next to him. "Okay," Harry hands him a pen and tears the paper straight in half giving him the other. "But what's it for?" Zayn asks. The man smiles again, stringing quietly on his guitar, "my boy, memories mean so much more than money, you write it down, you let it go, you make new ones, you do your best, whether big or small." He looks at the both of them now, "write it down, whatever is in your heart." They both smile a bit, slightly in confusion because no ones really asked them before.

Harry scratches his head with the tip of the pen, Zayn bites his bottom lip and scribbles something down. Harry turns his head to look at what Zayn's writing, maybe something about freshman year or a memory about his parents. "Nah, don't." Zayn teases and moves his body a bit so Harry won't see, "I'm not letting you see this one." "And why not?" "Cuz" "That's not an answer." Harry smiles Zayn only gestures his hand, to shoo him away. When they're both done writing, they both reach into the hat and pick up a random piece of paper before replacing it with there folded ones. "What do you do with them?" Harry asks, and the man starts strumming again on his guitar, he smiles, "Read the ones in your hands first." Harry and Zayn unfold the small pieces of paper. Zayn reads his aloud, "I remember Emma on her wedding day, she loved Mark and there was nothing I could do," he raises his eyebrows a bit when he pauses, "I was just her maid of honor after all." "Huh." Harry licks his lips and looks down at the small piece of pink paper, he chuckles low, only because it's written in German and he can barely remember his ninth year in school where he passed by the skin of his teeth. So he squints his eyes and tries to remember. "It's in fucking German..." "You don't speak German." Zayn laughs. Harry sighs, "not well at all." He clears his throat anyhow. "Uh, 'iche kussete ein fremder', I kissed a friend? No.... I kissed a stranger." Done that more than once, Harry thinks and looks at Zayn half amused.

Harry thanks the man, which he finds it could have been for no reason at all, but he's polite and they both enjoyed his singing and the music, it was beautiful. The old man just smiles, his callused fingers moving along his grey beard, "people leave me something invaluable, I don't need to be thanked." He sighs, "but thank you, may you both enjoy it here." He waves them good bye, Zayn and Harry turn around and walk back to the pathway, before he stops, Zayn walks over to him again.

"You never said what you did with them.... the pieces of paper, do you read them?" "Sometimes, other times I throw them in the ocean." "Why?" "I forget too easily" Zayns eyes are confused, Harry takes a step back into their direction again, they really do need to get going. Zayn was about to ask him something again in the mere silence besides the people walking by and the cool breeze in the air, but the man looks up at him, his toothy smile bright.

"You write memories and put it in the straw hat, that's all I want." He strums his guitar again." Write your favorite memory anything you want really, then pick a piece of paper in the hat before you drop yours in, read it out loud and that's it."

Zayn feels Harry's hand on his shoulder, he turns to look at the man, then back at Harry. "Lets go mate."

They walk back down the waterfront, passing other entertainers, a group of cyclists pass them by, old women carrying flowers and groceries, children singing songs they don't know. Everything is mere inches away from each other but seems so far apart

"That was sort of creepy." Harry looks at Zayn who gives him a small smile. Zayn isn't really sure what to think of it, he nods though, because Harry's right it was a bit dismaying, but he couldn't help but feel a bit sad for the man. "I think he was trying to look for something." Harry smiles, "what? What's he looking for?" He puts an arm around Zayns shoulder, smiling as he does. Harry mimics the mans voice "other peoples memories?" His eyes grow and he wiggles his fingers in the air, as they walk. Zayn chuckles slightly, putting a hand against Harry's back. "No, I think... his own." And there it is, Harry thinks for a second because he probably wouldn't have thought of that himself. Zayn always says things that make him think,things like that, and he could be right. To him, the mans lost it a bit, no downplay there, but he could be right. He reads other peoples memories to find his own. But he's always thought, what's lost is lost no use in trying to find it again, you might not like what you find again at all. He looks at Zayn straight in his beautiful brown eyes. "Perhaps." He says.

It's about noon and they've still been walking, they sort of made a silent agreement to just explore a bit, even if their feet are getting tired, and Harry's called every god damn decent hotel in Valletta, and nothing. They walk past the harbor and the rows and rows of people.

Harry's looking down at his phone walking next to Zayn, trying to figure out if they can even stay in Valletta, maybe Mdina or Zabbar, Birkikirkara since it was the closest town around. Zayn has his phone out, taking pictures of the 16th century architecture since they got here but he sort of stops him in his tracks, he smiles, seeing the amount of people crowded in one place, hearing bells ringing and smelling something faintly sweet in the air.

Harry looks up because Zayns' stopped walking, he looks at him. "We can if you want." Zayn smiles, "it wouldn't be a cliche would it? Or something..." Harry laughs, "not at all. Maybe you'll start to levitate." Zayn laughs, "bismillahi..... actually you know what that would be pretty sick."

St. Johns Co-Cathedral they see the small brochures in peoples hand, orange and green. People are swarmed up in the entrance.A rustic building that's probably one of the biggest Zayns ever seen. The big doors are wide and everyone seems to be trying to push through. The guiders are taking people in groups of ten or fifteen, and Harry and Zayn still haven't even stepped in yet. The sun is still shining bright on them. Harry kicks his feet on the stairway, patience was never really his virtue. Zayn leans on the railing, doing nothing in particular. Up ahead other people are waiting too, when they hear a loud chatter of noise, not yelling but something seems to be up. Zayn moves closer to Harry, as they both look up and see someone move down the stairs opposite of everyone else. "If Jesus fuckin died for this, I'd rather he kept his mouth shut and moon walked his ass somewhere else then!" A short semi balding man in a thick suit was following her, his hands on top of his head, speaking in Maltese to the girl in front of him, that's making everyone get out of her way.

For a second Zayn thinks this could be some type of warning.

They keep bickering for a bit till she turns around, to the people in front of her, yelling something in Maltese then in English. "If you Americans, and what nots love traveling so damn much, since you've conquered most of the fucking planet, maybe you shouldn't give your money to this place just so it can be destroyed!"

"Please! Stop!" The short guy seems like he's ten seconds away from a heart attack. "You are causing an outburst! Please!" They continue to rant and bicker in Maltese everyone staring at the spectacle till security comes out, she takes her sweet time moving down the stairs past Harry and Zayn and out of sight.

Everything seems to go back to normal, the front line of people move into the church but Zayn and Harry are still stuck outside. "We could go to Mdina or the other cities, we don't have to stick around here today, I know you're tired." Harry looks at Zayn, and he feels awful, jet lagged and tired, he thought it wasn't fair. "Haz, it's cool, I actually want to go in there," he looks at the brochure he picked up on one of the stands, "they have artwork by Caravaggio, and all this other interesting stuff."

If Zayn could be honest, he was too excited to be really that tired, sure his feet hurt and his back was beginning to ache with all the standing in the hot sun, but this was a bit bigger than that.

"We can come back tomorrow?" Harry offers one last time "Nah, seriously we're already here." Zayn stands a bit straighter and cocks a smile to Harry, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Zayn turns around, surprised a bit and it's the girl from earlier before.

She stares at him, eyes blank with a solemn expression on her face. "Can we help you?" Harry asks with a small smile. She doesn't even bother looking at Harry, Zayn only waits a beat before he talks, "You're the one that made quite a scene." "And what were you going to do about it?" Harry takes a step forward, looking at the two, his head tilted to the side he opens his mouth but she cuts him off.

"If you guys want to get in, I can help." She says, she stands there her arms still folded, riddled with tattoos, Zayn spots half of a portrait of Mary of Nazareth on her forearm. "We're almost there, thanks for your help anyway." Harry sighs, like he's far away, somehow already bored with this mysterious girl. Zayn doesn't say anything just leans against the railing. She shrugs, "you won't see any Caravaggio with the tourists, all the real art work is in the basement, but suit yourself with all the boring knight stories." She turns her back to them going down the stairs. "Wait what's your name?" Harry calls to her. "Myriam" she says turning around, already eight steps below. More people move past her, crowding the bustling line. Harry looks at Zayn who only looks up at him, with a perplexed expression. "If she can get us to the basement, we could probably see all those paintings, maybe even more?" Harry says quickly. Zayn moves up to Harry's ear, "it's okay we don't have to , I...I don't mind waiting besides, we don't know her." Harry tilts his head, a small smile on his lips as Zayns breath touches his cheek, "we don't know anyone." It's only a second but Zayn feels the familiar press of Harry's hand wrapped around his wrist, as he leads him down the stairs, stead fast moving past strangers and tourists. Zayn only looks at Myriam at the end of the stairs, holding a hand to shield herself from the sun. "Good choice." Myriam smiles, looking them up and down. "First off why are you doing this?" Harry tilts his head up a bit, folding his arms against his chest, Zayn is too tired to chuckle at how slightly ridiculous he looks when he does that. "I own this place, I can do what I want." She says it simply and smiles again, like it's almost painful, "my family does anyway, that guy you saw me arguing with, head bishop and all that stuff, it's annoying how the government wants to acknowledge the people who funnel dirty money into this place of 'God' instead of the family who conserved it since the day it was built, and through all the wars." "You could be just lying, I tell you- we don't have our wallets on us, if we turn that corner with you and you have two hooligans that want to mug us. Not very godly of you and all is it?" Harry squares his eyes on her. Myriam pulls something out of her back pocket, "I also have the keys, you British idiot." She starts walking towards the opposite direction of people, Zayn looks up hearing the church bells ring again. Harry murmurs something low, looks at Zayn who only shrugs, "nothing to lose right?" And starts walking to catch up with Myriam.

They walk and walk and walk, all the way down to the back of the cathedral, guards at each gate post, but it seems they haven't even gotten to where they need to be, they pass more people, a canopy and green vines growing on the side of the cobble stone walls. Myriam opens a big wooden door with brass handles, which leads them to a small set of stairs and up to a more modern looking one, she slides a card on the small keypad and punches in a code, the door beeps and slides open. "After you boys."

Harry steps in first almost trips on the threshold, Zayn moves closer, but Harry is already straightening himself up, he's clumsy and uncoordinated as always,Zayn puts down his hand, that he had left in the air.

This wasn't a basement this was a shrine. "Wow." Zayn muttered, or it sounded like a 'wow' under his breathe, soft and subtle. He looked around the 'basement' as Myriam had put it. It was huge and it had a fancy ceiling, with beautiful LED lights that were off, so natural sunlight was beaming down on the artwork. The sunlight came from slits in the ceiling like pillars that hit the ground. All of the artwork were mostly framed and mounted against a wall, or glass, the place was articulate. Modernly designed holding ancient paintings,tapestries, ones people never seen before-ones both Zayna and Harry knew people would never see.

"Obviously no taking pictures." Myriam stepped in, she walked across the room, passing Zayn and Harry who had there feet stuck on the first painting they saw, not sure of who it was by, but it was beautiful.

"Obviously..." Harry says, his eyes stuck on a rare painting by Meresi, "I'm pretty sure this is a federal crime in this country innit? I mean.. " He's taken a back a little, he only feels the slight brush of Zayn's shoulder against his, and Harry's attention zero's in on Zayn, taken in by his surroundings as usual today. Harry notices Zayns eyes fixed on something he probably can't even see on the painting. Zayns hands folded neatly against his back observing as he always does.

"Not a crime if you have the keys." Myriam is standing next to Harry now, he almost jumps only because he didn't notice her walking towards them again. She's small in height and he can see the black roots coming from her auburn hair, her black shirt intricately having placed holes in them against her collar. 'IT SUCKS TO SUCK.' is written on her wrist, in a shaky small penmanship, and if he's gathered anything about anything about this girl in the past fifteen minutes, it was probably meant to be that way.

"So... what? you just pick and choose people to come see this down here with you?" Zayn says with the corner of his lips, his eyes aren't placed on anything that isn't centuries old. "Not that I'm complaining or anything." He looks back to Myriam and back to the other pictures, he moves his feet, careful not to stand too close, yet he is, a good ten inches apart. He doesn't even think the most powerful people in the worlds' been this close or even twenty-five feet away to anything like this.

"No" Myriam smiles she walks further back, her frame stopping under one of the slits in the ceiling, the light beaming down on her, "I was sort of pissed earlier and got bored, and you two don't seem like the church going types, so... I said why not." She shrugs "that's sixteenth century by the way" she nods at Zayn. "There's more over here." She motions, and Harry and Zayn follow, Zayns eyes still glued to the glass walls, and the paintings and half paintings destroyed by salt and time. He'll probably never see anything like this again.

"This corridor leads up to the opposite side of the main entrance, but If we b-line around it'll take us upstairs. It's forbidden but no ones around there anyway." Harry looks at the back of her head, and taps her shoulder while they walk.

"Hey, yeah, uhm it's cool and all that you're showing us all of this but, we just landed on this island literally foour hours ago, it'd be nice not to get arrested."

She laughs, "relax, they can't do anything about it, you haven't stolen anything, neither has your friend, right? Than you're good." Myriam leads them to another sliding door, she pushes in a code and they're out on a small hallway. It's littered with a more suave interior design, when they get to the end of it, they see the front of the entrance this time, and a soft marble railing rimmed with gold is holding them high up above everyone else.

Zayn see's the people pouring in, it could have been them down there, but some how the view from up here was way better. Here he saw almost everything, the hundreds of seats rowed neatly against each other, towards the sanctuary, where the priest would hold mass.

He wasn't naive about this. Christianity and Islam such different brothers with different bones. He wasn't brought up into it, but he was brought up into respect, and respecting other views, something his parents made sure he knew before anything else, and he's thankful to appreciate the beauty in it all.

Allah is always watching, he remembers it in his fathers low tone, strong and deep.

He see's Harry leaning on the railing, looking down, eyes scattering the place. "What's all of that? The floor, it's so intricate." "It's the Order of the Knights, well one faction of the Langues, they were all over Europe and the Ottoman Empire. Basically all the important knights are buried right under that floor." Harry looks at her with wide eyes, than at Zayn. "There's people walking on there tombs." Myriam laughs again, "they're buried way deeper than you think. C'mon I have more to show."

St. Johns Co-Cathedral is a beautiful place, honestly one Zayn won't ever forget, or Harry. Myriam shows them the hallways, the special rooms where the priests and the cardinals and bishops do there business,most of them praying or as Myriam liked to say "rolling in money." They stepped down into where most of the tourist were at and Myriam gave them a quick over view. She took them to the east wing, less people were around there, she turned to Zayn. "You have a keen eye for art." "Yeah? Thanks... I guess, this place is sorta magical, really thanks for showing us Myriam." "Magical?" She faintly gasps, "such choice of words, I'm glad you think so, islami." Zayn looks down at her not necessarily frowning but cautious, she only smiles, "we are like brother and sister, I appreciate you saying this. Muslims help build the place and most of Malta anyway." She walks a bit further down, "come... see?" Myriam says, "this is the Oratory," she points to the biggest painting up above her. "The Beheading of St. John the Baptist, by Michaelangelo Mersi de Caravaggio. This is his most well known artwork, he made it in 1608."

"This is ridiculously huge." Harry has his eyes glued to the frame, he's observant as the executioner, with the knife held behind his back, and his other hand, holding down John the Baptist, it's a simple painting, blood flows from St. Johns neck, there's a platter for his head.

"It depicted his life really." "So you're saying he's the executioner in the picture? Caravaggio." Zayn asks, "Exactly, he killed the wrong guy when he joined the Order of the Knights, Ranuccio Tomassoni then he went crazy."

"Don't they all?" Harry says somewhere out of view. When Zayn turns to see where he is, he's kneeling over the marble, the floor where a hundred knights were buried.Each like golden Polaroids, set with angels, skulls, lions, and stars.

Harry tries to read one, yet it's in Latin. "What's this say?" Myriam walks over to him, kneeling down, she looks at what he's pointed at, and softly laughs. "It's an old saying among the knights, 'hic expectans in novissima tuba resurgere incorruptus ut induat incorruptionem et vivat cum deo in aeternum'. Roughly translate to; he who believes in morality will rise again, on the last trumpet and live with God for eternity."

Harry smiles at her, "exactly how do you know all this stuff Myriam?" "Told you my family help built this cathedral." "No, not that, you just know a lot." Zayn says his arms are crossed, standing right behind them. "Hmm," Myriam stands up, "Well it doesn't hurt to know your surroundings. Anyway you guys hungry?" She doesn't wait for them as she walks out of the Oratory and back to the main hallway.

Zayn looked at Harry as they walked towards Myariams direction. "She's a mystery." "I know, I'm not sure I like this one." "You love mysteries, she reminds me of Talia." "The Wiccan? After junior year? With the faulty hex?" Harry chuckles, " I doubt that." Zayn laughs, "you've called me a mystery before." Harry moves past the people coming in, Myriam isn't too far ahead he looks at Zayn about to answer him, but Myriam shouts to them. "Hurry up guys!" She waves them over, disappearing through the giant iron doors. When they walk down the steps, Harry turns to Zayn, making him stop on the third step. Harry shields his eyes from the roaring sun up above. "But you're just... different." He says and turns his back to Zayn without another word.

Myriam stands a few yards from the cathedral, there are vendors and food trucks a few yards away where people can get small souvenirs and something to fill there bellies. "Took you guys long enough." She smiles at them, her arms are crossed, Zayn see's she has more tattoos than he thought.

"We're still jet lagged." Harry says Zayns not sure but he thinks he hears annoyance, "but I am hungry I guess, you?" He looks at Zayn. "Yeah, I'm down." Zayn looks down at Myriam, "hey we didn't even give you our names" He awkwardly chuckles, "I'm Zayn by the way," he pats Harry's shoulder, "this ones Harry." Myriam chuckles, "ah, well Zayn and Harry, I'll buy you lunch yes? My treat." Myriam buys them gyros from a food truck near by. A few cold beers in there hands and there sitting at a table, talking idly, Harry mentions how they still haven't found a place to stay at yet but they'll probably drive to another town soon. Myriam isn't all too bad, her sense of humor is different and morose but Zayn can tell there's a softness to her.

"Do you believe?" Myriam looks at Harry who's downing the last of his beer. With a weary smile, "in?" "You know..." Harry sighs almost chuckles, "all I know is that somethings up there, something might be below, could just be the same damn thing with mood swings. Or nothing at all" He shrugs. "And with all you seen, you didn't feel anything?" "Feel anything?" He chuckles, "love, I only saw some pretty impressive paintings, nice architecture, am I supposed to be 'divine' after all that?" "No but... you're not a believer." "You're getting personal." "Alright, I'm sorry.. was just curious." She looks at Zayn who to her seems null, which isn't really true. "Haram, he's an infidel and you two seem so close."

"Well..." Harry says after a moment, "thanks for being our tour guide and all Myriam, do appreciate it. Honestly." She nods,"My pleasure Mr. West." Zayn looks at Harry when he doesn't answer properly, his brows furrow, because he recognizes that look on Harry's face, well... sort of. Because Harry only shows it when he's trying not to show his agitation. The thin line on his neck peers through his skin, the way his shoulders broaden. Zayn can see it, he always has.

Harry gets up casually taking their empty beer bottles to throw them away. Myriam gives Zayn a small smile and follows Harry. But Zayns confused as hell and calls after him. Myriam only turns back to Zayn gesturing that she only needs a moment.

Harry for most of his life, hated liars, loathed them. "Mr. West... Mr. West." Myriam puts a hand on his arm, but he pulls away. "You can tell him to fuck off. And stop calling me that." "Not that simple, your fathers a scary man, honestly." Myriam half way smiles, almost apologetic.

"What do you want from me?" Does your stupid family even own this church, or were you just lying the whole time?" He click his tongue. "You work for him don't you?" "No.. no, no, listen my only job was to show you and your friend around that's all. Your fathers been adamant about your stay, all I know is that I make sure your stay here is comfortable and.." "And he pays you for it." Myriams silent, "that's not.." "Honestly I don't give a damn, and you chatted us up, about how that damn church was funneling dirty money, and look what your doing, wow what a worker of God you are." He shakes his head, annoyed. Maybe they should just go back to Hawaii, instead of being monitored. "And then you give me this shit for not "believing", go screw yourself." Harry moves past her, but Myriam grabs his hand, making him turn towards her again. She holds his hand tightly bringing it up,no fear in her eyes, her thumb on his skin, pressing against the small cross tattooed between his thumb and index finger. "I wasn't giving you shit for not believing, but their has to be something right?" Myriam looks at the tiny cross, and then at Harry. She lets go of his hand, "at least you believe in that."

Harry turns back around not saying anything, Zayn gets up from his chair walking towards him, slowly. "Wait, Harry, wait." Myriam stops him again. Harry sighs. She catches up to him, her voice low, "you and Zayn probably need a place to stay, your father, wanted you to be in Mdina, but...." She takes a set of keys out of her pocket, pulling one from it's ring. "Go to Bahrija.... don't look at me like that, take it." Myriam takes the key and forces it into his hand.Harry slips the key into his pocket. "I have a vacation home there, haven't been there in years. It's clean and secluded a maid comes in every other week..... being in the city is easier for him to have an eye on you." Myriam sighs. "Why are you doing this?" She shrugs, "maybe I believe in something." Harry doesn't smile, just nods and walks away.

"What the fuck was that?" Zayn is in front of Harry so quick. "Harry how the hell does she know you? Do you know her?" Harry bites his bottom lip, "I'll tell you on the way yeah? We should go." "Are you okay?" He nods "of course, c'mon lets go." "Where?" Zayn looks over to Myriam, but she's already walking away. "Harry..." "Zay," He puts his hand on his shoulder squeezing gently, sounding tired all of a sudden. "Please lets go." Zayn narrows his eyes, he hates it when Harry beats around the bush, but he doesn't push it any further. He gives him an okay and they make there way out of the plaza.

They walk back up the waterfront, passing all the performers and colorful rustic buildings. Harry walks in brisk steps, trying to remember where they parked that stupid looking Volvo.

They didn't realize how long of a walk it is, or the hills they need to pass. But they pass the stores and and bistros the loud tourists scrambling taking pictures.

"You can tell me you know.." Zayn says, Harry's only a couple of paces ahead of them. They're on the last hill, passing all the parked cars smooched together.

Harry doesn't say anything at first,just shrugs,"I know." "So you will?" A man in a bike passes by them going downhill . "I will." Zayn tries to walk a bit faster, but the hill is too damn steep. "What did she say to you?" Zayn finds it irritating talking to Harry's back, instead of Harry. So he runs up, kicks the back of Harry's shin, and despite himself he laughs when Harry sorta loses his balance. "Honestly, Zayn!" Harry tries not to crack a smile but the tiniest one curls on his lips. "I'm not here for your mess," he pulls himself straight up with a hand on Zayns shoulder. They walk side by side quietly.

"You trust me?" Zayn looks over at Harry who doesn't look at him, just walks and walks. "Yes, what ever it is you can-" "I don't want to mess this up for you..." Harry states. "It's just here... well everywhere besides home. People.. "know me", like my family and stuff, I know I don't really talk about it because honestly it's draining. And I don't want to ruin it with people thinking they can insert themselves in things I do.... things we do. I don't wanna be cryptic. But this is supposed to be fun for you... a break with no bullshit." "No I get it Haz." Do you? Harry thinks but,he only puts his hands in his pockets. "Besides, I know the real you." Harry looks at Zayn and smiles, bumps his head on Zayns shoulder, a silent thank you. No words. Zayn wraps his arm around Harry's shoulder his chin on top of Harry's head. "Don't worry about it." Zayn sighs, they walk the rest of the way in silence till they finally find the Volvo. It starts quickly with the first turn of the ignition.

When Harry starts driving, it's fast, with quick and swift turns. Zayn looks over to him, presses his hand on his shoulder. Harry looks at Zayn for a moment as he slows down turning his attention back to the road.

"We're going to Bahrija. You don't mind?" "I don't even know where that is." Zayn slips back in his seat, his eyelids low, a loose smile on his face. "It's a bit past Mdina, I googled it, you can go to sleep? I'll wake you when we're close." Zayn shakes his head at first, "I don't think I'll sleep till I see a bed." Harry chuckles quietly, "right, not like you'll be out in ten minutes." Harry turns into another busy road, it's past the market place they drove past earlier. Zayn looks out his window, he see's the familiar flowers hung up between the buildings, on telephone poles and riddled on the trees. "It's beautiful here..." Zayns voice is low and sleepy. "I know... I like the flowers they hang up, think they're jasmines. Saw different ones, at the waterfront too." Zayn hums, trying to keep his eyes open, they drive past a couple of boats by the harbor, most of them the same turquoise and bright yellow. He says it quietly at first almost to himself,"Zayn I think I should tell you-" Harry looks over at Zayn, he sighs and relaxes a bit. Zayns already asleep.

It's a small tug somewhere inside him he can' place, but when Zayn wakes up slowly and tired, he already knows Harry isn't in the seat next to him, he's just welcomed to the sun in his eyes. He looks around again, moving in his seat, it would be just his luck if he was left stranded in a foreign country he barely knew anything about. So he bites on his nails. Waiting. Harry had to be around anyway, maybe asking for directions and he didn't bother waking him up. Idiot. Zayn sighs, checks his phone, its on low battery but he makes a call to Harry anyway yet it goes straight to voice mail. "Really?" He says to himself, and shoots Harry a text 'hell are you?' People on bikes zoom past the car, a group of teenagers with glass bottle of Coke and Fanta yell and scream, and laugh. One of them even waves at him, then saying something in Maltese to one of their friends and laughs before walking away. When they pass,Zayn rolls down his window. Waiting. It's a busy street corner where he's parked and almost like the one in Valletta but more raw. There are more buildings and wider alleyways flags swung in the air. Zayn checks his phone again the feeling of sleep trying to creep up on him and he tries to wade it away. Its' been a good twenty minutes but if feels way longer than that. He'll just close his eyes for a moment.

"Still asleep? Geez Zayn, someone could put a fork on this bitch and you'd still be drooling hmm?" Harry taps on the car window on the drivers side. Zayn sits up immediately, rolling his eyes unlocking the drivers door.

"I was just resting my eyes. Harry I called you..." "My phones dead, sorry." He says climbing into the Volvo, two bags that carried the aroma of food hit Zayn right in his stomach. "I got a lot of take out, I'm not sure if the house we're going to is stocked but I thought it'd be best to be safe than sorry." Harry opened one of the plastic bags in his lap, taking out one of those old fashioned soda glasses, like the ones in the hands of the dusty teenagers that passed by. "Coke or Sprite? I didn't know which one you were in the mood for." Zayn smiled. "Choose quickly I'm taking the one you don't want." "Fine. Sprite." Zayn takes the cold glass bottle in his hands. "Here." Harry put down his coke in one of the cup holders, takes out something wrapped in foil, and gives it to Zayn. "Chicken shawarma, extra sauce, extra spice." "I'm so fucking hungry." Zayn takes it in his hands still very warm, not leaving a minute to stray and opens the foil biting down immediately, giving Harry an appreciative smile with his mouth closed. They both eat in the car, downing there food in haste looking out the car window silently, watching as people flew by. "So where exactly are we going again? Bahjrah?"Zayn asks. "Yeah, it's like fifteen minutes from here." "So it's... Myriams place?" "Sort of." "So you do trust her?" "No," Harry pauses, taking the last bite of his shawarma compressing the foil in his hands in a tight ball. "She's just helping I guess,she feels sorry she's profiting off of having to do what my dad tells her, or the people that work for him I guess." He shrugs, "it's just easier to not be in the cities, we won't get noticed." You mean 'you' Zayn thinks, he leans back in his seat his eyes on Harry, mocking suspicion. "Exactly who are you?" The question laced with a tease, but seriousness if Harry was ever willing to look at it. Zayn knew better. Harry laughs, lets the tension in his back go, "I don't fucking know. We should get going though, it gets dark rather quickly around here." Harry starts the car, Zayn clicks in his seat belt, his eyes peer back to Harry as he turns the car into the busy intersection. Zayn turns on the radio, or at least tries to, each channel had a horrible connection and it was mostly filled with white noise rather than Maltese Top 40. They don't have a phone charger for the car, so Zayn opts out of using his phone.

It's silent in the car, and the sun is already sinking down the horizon of barque buildings, and cobble stone. In the distance, Zayn can hear the daily prayer, he looks onward and see's they're about to drive near a mosque. The street is riddled with cars and Harry slows down, driving steady through the streets, letting pedestrians cross, bikers cut ahead of him. Zayn looks out of the passenger window, the mosque was behind another building but he could spot the turquoise dome head and the nagwa up above. The muezzin is loud and bellows through the air, it rings in there ears and Zayn closes his eyes, muttering shahada under his breathe, his head pressing against the window.

"Do you wanna go inside for prayer? I can park the car and wait." "Hmm?" Zayn opens his eyes, doesn't realize they stopped at a red light. "No it's okay, they're about done anyway. We're almost there right?" "Yeah, but I can stop for the evening prayer if you want? I don't mind." Zayn yawns a bit, his lips curling upwards, "It's fine Haz, and that doesn't start until another four hours anyway. Best if I do salat at the house, I can take a shower there too." Harry nods, someone honks behind him. He drives slow, slow so the words that echo out of the mosque don't slip his ears easily, that he hears Zayn whisper softly to himself. The last of the prayer drums so loud against the air, it's always been Zayns favorite part. The part you can feel wrap around your bones, and soothes the hollows of your ears. La ilaha illla Allah. Harry drives slow until he reaches out of Mdina.

Bahrija is nothing but rural country. rubble and long slates of grass, small cottages and apartments lined along its shore. The road is old, so the Volvo tilts and sways with each give in it's own rhythm. They turn into a small roadway, as Harry pulls up, he see's the vacation house Myriam had texted him about. He deleted her number right after she gave him directions and the code to the alarm system.

Zayn was still fighting sleep, but the sun was finally setting in small golden wisps in the sky. But once he saw the house, he sat up. It wasn't extremely big nor was it small sitting on top of a small hill. It was white brick on what he could see from the outside. It's yard mowed, palm trees surrounding the home.Three post lights were lined up and spaced evenly giving them a path to drive on. "Whoa, this is really nice." Zayn smirked looking at Harry who stayed quiet.

Harry parked the Volvo in the drive way, let the engine cool a bit before moving, he could hear the wind pick up outside. "We going in or what?" Zayn pushed his shoulder playfully. Harry smiled a bit, "Yeah mate, 'course."

They took there duffle bags from the trunk of the car, the bags of take out Harry bought and walked to the silver door. Harry slid in the key and turned the handle.

When Harry turned on the light, he couldn't help but whistle a bit. The house was modern on the inside, Zayn appreciated the lighting, high on the ceilings it brought a golden glow in the house. The alarm started beeping and Harry turned to punch in the code.

"This is way nice", Zayn looked up, putting his bag on the floor, walking into the kitchen. It was one of those open kitchens you see in magazines and displayed in IKEA. Silver appliances, clear glass cabinets. Everything was perfectly put in place, yet there was something comfortable about it.Zayn hadn't noticed before but the dining area's wall was complete glass,where you're able to see outside. He moved to it, seeing his reflection on the glass, and out to the yard. "Harry come see this." "Yeah in a minute." Harry took there bags in his hands, walking down the hallway, apparently there was only one room, but when he opened it and flickered on the lights, it seemed he walked into one those presidential suites he used to be so accommodated to when he was younger. It was massive, a bed with what seemed like an ivory bedpost it's frame was beautiful curved in designs, and trimmed with a rustic gold. Harry put their bags on top of the bed, looked around a bit more before going back outside to find Zayn staring out the glass window wall.

"You think people can see us inside here? Or like is it one of those where we can see outside but they can't see us?" "Im not sure but..."Harry looked around, walked to the kitchen and opened a few drawers before finding what he was looking for. A small remote in his hand and stood next to Zayn. "Just to be safe." He pressed a button on the remote and thin shades slid down the wide window wall. Harry stopped them in the middle. "You want em up or leave it how it was?" He smiled. "Leave it how it was? I think this is pretty cool." "Me too." Harry pressed another button and the shades drew back into the ceiling.

The palm trees swung as more wind picked up, most of the sun was gone now. They explored the house a bit more. There were couches in the main living room, a TV and electronics hid inside behind an automatic foyer that you could open and close as you please. Zayn stepped into what seemed to be the backyard but another living room too. This one was both outside and wasn't all at the same time, encased in glass walls and soft carpet, it was open where their was a heated pool and patio furniture. Zayn didn't realize the view was this beautiful. Even though it was dark outside, it was kinda scary and quaint all at the same time. He could dimly see the ocean in the distance, yet he could hear the waves crashing into the rocks.

When he walked into the room, Harry was already sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. Zayn turned to see there was only one bed, and a breeze coming in. Harry had opened the sliding door of the balcony. "You tired?" Harry asks, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his duffle bag. "Sort of, Imma shower though, but I'm still hungry." Zayn laughed. "Alright wash up, I'll be out in the balcony." He stands up and walks towards it, "Hey we're gonna have fun tomorrow ye?" Zayn nods, "yeah, you got something planned?" Harry laughs, "I'm a horrible planner. But there's a cool beach down here, so swimming?" "Yeah maybe, if the weather is good, are we even around civilization?" "Nah," Harry laughs, putting a cigarette between his lips, "just you and me." He disappears into the balcony, sliding the door behind him.

Zayn takes a few things out of his bag, and slips into the impressive bathroom. It's equipped with a bathtub that looks more like a jaqouzie and a tall glass plated shower. He slips into the shower and turns it on, letting it build steam before taking off his clothes. His shoulders tense a bit, his body tired as he slips out of his clothes. So when he slips into the shower it's a relief. The water pressure helps with the knots on his back, Zayn washes his hair and takes his time a bit humming to himself. The petering of the water makes him feel like he's in the middle of a rain shower. It hits perfectly on his skin, cleaning himself off.

When he's finished, Zayn brushes his teeth, and slips into some sweats and a loose tank top, his feet bare against the warm laminate floor. For a second he can't help but think about today, how much art he's seen, the people he's seen, Myriam, the whole enigma that's following Harry around. He misses Kelly, he'll call her before going to sleep he decides, it would do him good to hear her voice.

Harry is sitting on a lounge chair when Zayn opens the sliding door. "I gotta go." Harry says into the phone and slides it into the pocket of his jeans. "You got the phone charger out here?" "Yeah," Harry hands it to him, "It's getting cold wanna go inside?" Zayn nods.

A moment later and Zayn is sitting on top of the bed, looking through his phone, as it charges. Harry looks trough his bag.

"Who was that you were talking to Haz?" Zayn doesn't look up from his phone. "No one, just stupid business." "Was it your dad?" Zayn feels the cold tip in the air when he's met with silence. "Yeah it was him." "Oh." "Imma shower ok?" "Ok."

Zayn hears the thudding of the shower starting in the bathroom after a few minutes. He tries calling Kelly and she answers quickly. "Zayn!Hey!" "Habibti." He smiles. They talk for a good while, she tells him Noel asked about him, then ran into Liam and Adrien in town, looking for fresh lilies with Noel at the farmers market. "You're gonna have to do some explaining," she laughs, "you and Harry. They're worried. "What did they say?" "They just wanted to know when you were coming back, the both of you, why you didn't tell them, all that. I don't know I was hit with a million questions all at once, and a lot of screaming." She laughs," Liam mostly asked about you. But I told them all you guys were okay after you called me last night. That you'll be back soon." She pauses for a second, "you'll be back soon right?" Zayn laughs, and sits up on the bedpost a bit, "'course, sooner than you'll know it." He can hear one of the dogs in the background barking, Kelly coo's him and it's quiet again. "So, you got me my souvenir?" Kelly sits on the couch, it's only ten in the morning and it's bright outside, the sun right in the living room. "Working on it." Zayn smiles, he can still hear the shower in the bathroom running. "Mmhm. What time is it over there?" "Ten at night, over there?" "Ten in the morning." Kelly laughs, "Anyway you must be tired, you'll call again tomorrow?" "Yep." "I can't believe you went inside a church, Zay." "I was curious, kinda nice in there, not like jahmaye though." "Alright well post some pics on instagram so I can be even more jealous. Get some sleep, tell Harry I said hi, good night, and to get me a souvenir too." "I thought I was getting you something." "Oh you are, both of you are." Kelly giggles through the phone. "Aight, good night big bro." "Morning sis."

Zayn puts his phone down on the dresser next to the bed. He sighs at the time, and looks into one of the closets, it's no mahsala-prayer rug, but it'll do. Getting the rosary beads from his bag, Zayn lays a folded bed sheet to the west, closes his eyes, and says an iyada, bending his hips downward, kneeling, and starts his prayer. When he's finished he folds the blanket back into the closet, he hears the wind pick up outside. ---

When Harry comes out of the bathroom he finds Zayn sitting on the floor, the takeout they had heated and splayed out. "Fridge is filled with food." Zayn laughs a bit, biting into a qassata, a bottle of wine next to him, "but I thought we might as well finish what you bought" "Smells really good, you must of worked away in the kitchen." Harry laughs, sitting down on the floor next to Zayn. He pokes at the grilled chicken and veggies before taking a bit. "Microwave does wonders these days," Zayn smiles.

He has the map next to him, "So we're next to Fomm ir-Rhi Bay? Think we can go down there tomorrow? I goggled it, and it's not far from here at all." "Hell yeah, what else you wanna do?" Harry thinks for a second, "we should probably stay here till Sunday?" "And then after that?" Zayn asks, handing the bottle of wine to Harry to open, giving him the opener. "I don't know.. you've been looking at the map?" "Yeah." "And? Where do you wanna go after? He pops the cork and pours the wine into mugs. Looking at the bottle it's Chateau Vincens and places it down, and takes a long sip from his cup.

Zayn shrugs, "remember when you first mentioned Malta? How you said you just wanted to sit on top of one of there cliffs, or like go mountain climbing? We can do that in Gozo it's the part of Malta I figured we could head there and then see when."

Harry smiles, he bites on his bottom lip, surprised a bit, that Zayn remembers that conversation. "Why not, so... you'll really go mountain climbing with me?"

"Heights aren't my thing." Zayn sighs. "I know.. but we'll be going with instructors, ye? Say you're down." "No." Zayn teases, "I just wanna get Kelly a souvenir, or something from there, some sea shells, a bottle of sand." "Lame. How are you gonna get her a bottle of sand, you're the worst gift giver." Harry plops on his stomach, his elbows propped up and eats more of his food.

"Alright then you get her something for me, and then she wants you get her something too." . "You're just pinning this on me huh?" "Yep." Zayn smiles, he starts on the platter of ricotta and veggies on chabata bread, served with savory chicken and a spicy sauce. They both eat there food, and drink there wine, talking idly, bringing up a few ideas here and there. Zayn doesn't bring up Myriam again, even though he wants to, but he doesn't, just watches Harry talk about what they could do in Gozo, how they'll probably have to take a boat ride there, depart ways with the ancient Volvo.

Zayn shakes his head no at the idea of scuba diving, he grins when Harry whines. But he knows he doesn't mind all too much. "Alright I think I'll know what we'll do tomorrow at the beach." "And what is that?" Zayn says slowly. "You'll see." Harry's eyelashes bat as he downs the rest of his wine, his cheeks are a bit flushed, but he looks warm from where Zayns sitting. The only light is the one coming from the bathroom and it hits him perfectly.

Harry takes the empty takeout containers, and the empty mugs and puts them in the kitchen, throwing away anything that isn't needed. When he walks back into the room, Zayn is already sitting on the bed, the light from the bathroom closed. "So you're down?" Harry asks, lips curling into a smile. "For?" "Mountain climbing Zed." "I don't know Harriet, we'll see." "Excuses." Harry pinches his nose, and gets his pinched back. He lays on top of the bed, next to Zayn. The bed is huge, so he rolls over once, and finds the folding of the heavy covers. "C'mon lets go to bed, big day ahead of us, adventure awaits!" Zayn smiles, crawls his way into the pillows, and slides underneath the covers, fluffing the pillows once and finding his comfort place before settling.

"Goodnight." Harry says in the dark. "Good- Harry where are you?" He hears him laughing, "I'm right here. Where are you?" "You sound far away." Zayn has his back flat against the bed. He looks to this right where he thinks Harry is lying but it's too dark to tell. "I can't see you." Zayn puts out a hand against the sheets, his palm facing downward, as far as he could reach but he didn't feel anyone there. "I'm right here silly rabbit." Harry moves towards his left. Zayn feels something on the hand he has stretched out. Fingers. They grip they pull,and he lets it happen til Zayn is face to face with Harry on the bed. Harry has his phone in his hand, it lights shine down on the two of them. "Better?" Harry's voice is low, Zayn can tell he's getting really sleepy.

"Yeah," Zayn brings a pillow underneath him. "Thanks for today...since we landed I didn't think it would be like this." "Me neither," Harry turns the light off from his phone, it's hurting his eyes. "thought it'd be much... smoother. And you don't have to thank me Zay." "It's okay... yeah I do." "No you don't." "Stop arguing with me." "No." "Harold." "What?" "...you didn't do anything wrong." "Hmph." Its silent again, for a long time and Zayn thinks Harry's fast asleep till he speaks again. "Are you gonna tell me?" "About what Harry?" Zayn yawns. "You're memory that you wrote down when we were in Valletta?" "I'm not supposed to." "Who says?" Zayn can feel him move on the bed. "I'm not telling you."Zayn chuckles into his pillow, stretching out his legs underneath the bed covers. Silence again. "Memory I wrote down was... freshman year.. maybe sophmore." Zayn feels his veins jump a bit, he thinks.... "That stupid field trip to HPU, we got lost on campus cuz I wanted to see if they hand that lucky turtle with the blue spot on its shell."

Zayn feels himself smiling in the dark. "You stole that damn thing, and we almost got caught. Then you gave him to Liam a week later and it died that month" "Was worth it though, it was a lucky turtle. Passed that US history exam" "With a D-" "Passing grade is a passing grade. Remember how we took it?" Zayn hums, "you put em underneath your shirt, and zipped up your jacket, thinking no one was gonna notice." "No one did." "Till you started bleeding, cuz it bit you... repeatedly" Harry chuckles, "you lied for me." "Huh?"

"When we got on the bus, and that campus security got on the bus, saying who ever took the turtle would get in big trouble and I think he knew I did it, so he kept picking on me. You just stood up for me and lied, you didn't have to, but you did." Harry sighs, "I dunno... but when that guy said to write a memory I dunno that just came up."

It was silent again.

"I'll tell you then..." Zayn whispered.

Zayn rolled to his side, not realizing how close Harry's body was next to his, but with his back turned to Zayn. He found his nose in Harry's hair, he smelled faintly of vanilla and shea butter, it was nice. But Harry didn't stir he was already a sleep.

Zayn woke up cold, utterly cold, he sat up a bit, looking around, it was a dark grey shrowd in the room, he could tell it was somewhere between two or three in the morning, he rubbed his eyes. Harry was sleeping on his side, past out. He didn't want to wake him but the temperature was ridiculous, and the heavy cotton covers were barely helping.

"Haz." Zayn shook his shoulder a bit. Harry sprang up, his eyes clear and awake. "What is it? You alright?" "Sorry," Zayn scooted back a bit, "it's cold. Think you can turn on the A/C?" Harry moved his hair from his face, it was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he nodded and yawned, "yeah, yeah love."

Zayn sat up against the head board, bringing the heavy covers around his shoulders, watching Harry get up to find the A/C. Sleep was still heavy on his eyes but he couldn't deal with how cold it got. The tips of his ears felt numb.

Harry scurries into the hallway, he rubs his shoulders feeling the bite of how cold it really was. Mostly because they were so close with the ocean. It was still dark but he could see around fair enough. He scanned the walls and didn't see the A/C switch, he looked again, and into the kitchen, his bare feet trotting on the cold floor. Nothing.

Zayn watches as Harry comes back, shaking his head. "Don't know where the A/C is." "It's okay, it'll get warm again." "I can start the fireplace?" Harry pointed to it in the far corner of the room, "just gotta put it out later." Zayn nods, rubbing his palms together, underneath the covers.

Harry flicks the wick on the stand of the fire place, he lights the wood and gets it going. The fire cackles a bit, Harry smiles to himself faintly, rubbing his hands towards the flames, making sure not to get burned. He motions to Zayn, "you can come closer to get warm." Zayn moves from the bed, takes the big bed spray with him and a couple of pillows. He spreads it down on the floor, the bed spray first then the pillows, walks over to the small closet where he found the blanket and takes the one made out of soft cashmere.

"Do you wanna sleep down here?" Zayn asks, already laying down on the makeshift of pillows and blankets. "Yeah, that'd be cool." Harry smiles all sleepy, he doesn't realize it but his head is already hitting down on a pillow.

"Warm?" "Yeah.. getting there." Zayn sighs. Harry's eyes are hooded, sleep is calling him again, yet he see's the glint of the fire in Zayns brown eyes, they look like honey and gold.

Harry falls alseep rather quickly. Zayn can tell, his cheeks puff out when he's tired, his lips barely parted. Zayn stares at the fire for a bit, letting his body relax from its warmth. He can feel his too; Harry's. Even though he's not all to close, it's hard not to say that Harry isn't magnetizing. A curl sticks against Harry's cheek, Zayn moves it carefully, making sure he doesn't stir. "Thank you." Zayn presses the words against his pillow, his eyes still lingering on Harry before he drifts to sleep.

#for jeli

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ezra-blue · 7 years

Text

You’ve Got Something - 47

For @baronvonriktenstein‘s Messy!AU

47: One Big, Beautiful Mess

Once they clear up the aftermath…

47: One Big, Beautiful Mess

“It wasn’t that bad, really!” Hakkai couldn’t keep from laughing as Gojyo, pouting, scraped the last of the mushroom casserole into the trash can. “It was a bit salty for my liking, but it was a very nice meal.”

“I saw the faces you were making.” Gojyo stuck his tongue out at Hakkai from behind the kitchen counter, then turned to the sink. “Seriously, you think I can’t read you by now? I’m getting better all the time.”

“It was salty, yes, but I’m proud of you for making it all by yourself. Perhaps we can adjust the recipe.” Hakkai fidgeted with the blanket in his lap, gazing at Gojyo with open adoration in his eyes. “You took initiative, and even if it was salty, it was perfectly serviceable.”

“Serviceable.” Gojyo snorted. “You know, it’s nice that you sound like yourself again. I missed that smart mouth.”

Hakkai laughed softly into his palm. “I think I’m beginning to enjoy being myself again, too.” Then, he stood, still wearing the blanket like a cloak, and approached Gojyo from behind as he scrubbed at the dishes. “I can finish those later; it’s only fair, you cooked, you know.” He slipped a hand around to Gojyo’s front and slid his palm up his chest. “Come sit with me.”

Gojyo couldn’t resist, and let Hakkai lead him back to the futon, fine with leaving the dishes for a little longer if it meant a few extra seconds with Hakkai. The sky was still a little dim, though the clouds were clearing, so Gojyo turned the lamp on, then let Hakkai drag him to the sunken-in spot they’d been in before. Hakkai wrapped his arms around Gojyo’s waist, sighing contently.

“I think I’d be fine just keeping you right here, forever.”

“Eh, not forever.” Gojyo grinned sheepishly, then carded his fingers into Hakkai’s hair and stroked his head. “Gonna have to take a piss eventually.” Hakkai made an unhappy noise, though Gojyo could still feel his mouth curved into a smirk against his chest. “Plus, I’m gonna go in tomorrow and fix your car, and you know they’ll fall apart in the kitchen without you.”

“Ah, I suppose.” He huffed, but squeezed Gojyo tighter for a moment. “I wasn’t doing all that well in the kitchen of late. They essentially gave me the boot until I could get myself together.”

“Really?” Gojyo teased Hakkai’s hair a little, pursing his lips as the light shifted on his face. “It’s pretty tough to think about you havin’ it rough in the kitchen.”

“When I can’t focus… when all I can think about is…” He shut his eyes tight, and Gojyo toyed with his hair a little more, until Hakkai murmured, “I simply can’t think about my work. I tried, but I kept thinking of you.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo lifted his head a little, then kissed his forehead. “Well, maybe you could think of me and use it to bake. Like with the brownies.” He chuckled under his breath, then kissed his cheek a few times. “Think you could come up with a new recipe for me?”

Gojyo could nearly feel the spark run through Hakkai. “A new recipe?” He sat up, the futon creaking from the sudden shift in weight, and searched over Gojyo’s face with wonder running through his eyes. “I’ll make something for you. Anything. What would you like it to be? A muffin? Cupcakes? I could make cookies the very color of your eyes, that spiced chocolate brown with just a touch of crimson in the middle–”

“Surprise me. I want you to get back in that kitchen tomorrow, I want you to put it together whenever you have time, and I want you to show me when it’s done.” Gojyo fluffed his hair, and Hakkai smoothed it down, pretending to be annoyed for only a moment. “We got a deal?”

“We do, but a deal implies that you’ll do something in return.” Hakkai brushed a palm over Gojyo’s head. “I’d like you to grow your hair out again.”

“Is that all?” Gojyo snorted, even as Hakkai played with his hair.

“I can’t fathom why you cut it. It looks fine this way, but I very much liked it long.” His gaze roved Gojyo’s face again. “Why did you?”

Gojyo tossed his head, the way he might when it was long and in his eyes. “Eh.” He rubbed his brow. “I guess, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see me, and it pissed me off.” He paused. “Guess that’s comin’ out of my security deposit.” Hakkai laughed a little through his nose and kissed Gojyo’s bandaged hand. Gojyo smirked, and caught Hakkai’s chin. “We’re two sides of a coin, I guess. I ain’t me without you.”

“If I didn’t love you so, I’d call you corny.” Hakkai giggled, then rubbed the blunt ends of Gojyo’s hair. “But will you grow it out again? For me?”

“Sure. It grows fast.” Gojyo wiggled an eyebrow. “You think you can finish your new Gojyo special before I finish growing it out?”

“We have a deal.” Hakkai sealed it with a kiss to the mouth, and the two of them rubbed noses, scooting ever closer to one another on the futon. Just as Gojyo tilted his head to capture Hakkai’s lips, there was an excessively cheery tune from the table, and Hakkai jumped, then reached for his cell phone.

“It’s Sanzo. I’m sorry, I really must take this.” Hakkai moved the blanket to his lap, and Gojyo folded his arms and pouted as Hakkai answered. “Good afternoon, Sanzo–”

“He answered!” Gojyo could clearly hear Goku’s voice through the earpiece, and grinned. “Hey, Hakkai! How’re you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better than earlier, thank you.” Hakkai rubbed Gojyo’s knee, smiling into the receiver. “One moment.” He covered the phone, stifling a giggle as he told Gojyo: “Goku’s calling on Sanzo’s line.”

“That’s a hell of a relief,” Gojyo chuckled, and Hakkai beamed, then returned to the call.

“What can I do for you, Goku?”

There was a pause, and Gojyo faintly heard Goku saying in an eager squeak, “I heard him talkin’ to Gojyo! They must be together!” There was an indistinct answer from a lower voice on the line, and Goku spoke up, “Um, Sanzo says we all gotta talk. Can you come in?”

“Right now?” Hakkai raised an eyebrow, then frowned.

“I mean, um, right now is good, but, um… Are you busy?”

“I don’t have a car. Er, Gojyo does, but… Goku, really, you’ve called at a bad time.” Hakkai let out a nervous little laugh, and Gojyo claimed his other hand and kissed his knuckles. Goku giggled on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I get it– ow! Sanzo, do I have to sic Nat–”

“Hakkai, this is serious.” Sanzo was on the line now. “You and Gojyo both. You can fuck like mad rabbits and celebrate getting over your own stupid asses later, we need to talk–”

“Aw, hell, Mister Sanzo!” Gojyo faintly recognized that voice, and from Hakkai’s sudden frown, so did he. “Let them have their night! I can come back and talk to the two o’ them in the morning, I promise I ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

“I’ll hold him to it.” Gojyo jumped, nearly dislodging Hakkai, because he did know that voice, what the hell did Gat have to do with any of this?! Sanzo sighed heavily, then spoke low and rough into the receiver.

“I need to see both of you tomorrow. Here. Six AM.”

And then, Goku reclaimed the phone: “And I'ma get mad if I don’t see any hickeys on either of you, get back to makin’ up already!”

“That is the plan, Goku.” Hakkai spoke with query in his tones, but he only had smiles when he glanced back to Gojyo. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, kid.” With that, Gojyo plucked the phone from Hakkai and hung up, then slung both of his arms around him into a squeeze. “So, what was that all about? Why would my mechanic be with them?”

Hakkai hummed dismayed agreement. “And that regular of ours, Hazel–”

“Hazel!” Gojyo snapped his fingers as he remembered the drawling kid who’d stared at him while he played pick-up hoops with Goku and his roommate at the Y. “Yeah, I thought I knew that voice, he goes to Goku’s school! I met him when you were away, that time Goku took me out to play basketball.”

“Ah!” Hakkai pursed his lips. “Oh, what a curious coincidence…”

“Dunno if that’s a coincidence.”

“Nor I,” Hakkai admitted, but he leaned deeper against Gojyo. “But it can wait, can’t it? I want to enjoy you just a little longer.”

“Mhm.” Gojyo shut his eyes and accepted Hakkai’s weight and warmth against him. “As long as you want. We’ve got forever.”

“Forever?” Hakkai sounded hopeful, his hand sliding up Gojyo’s chest.

“You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.” Gojyo took his hand and kissed his fingers, then tangled his legs with Hakkai. “You wanna watch a movie? Goku gave me his Netflix log-in.”

“Mm. I’d love a movie. Is Chocolat on Netflix?”

“Chocolat?” Gojyo said the word with a little more relish than necessary, already grinning as he pulled Netflix up on the laptop. “Is it a documentary?”

“No, no, it’s a lovely romantic drama set in the rural French countryside, about a widow and single mother who opens a chocolate shop.” Hakkai snuggled down into Gojyo’s chest. “You won’t like it, but we can make out if you get bored.”

Gojyo chuckled, stroking Hakkai’s hair as he started the movie. “I’ll try to like it, but I get to choose next time. How much of the Fast and the Furious series have you seen?”

“Oh, my, those would be a new experience.” Hakkai shifted into a sideways lean against him, and Gojyo accepted him with an arm around the shoulder. “Next time. We have all the time in the world.”

“Every second,” Gojyo agreed, smiling helplessly at the thought of having Hakkai here, with him, just like this, every night for the rest of their lives.

Damn, who would have thought he, of all people, would go from being broken up with a guy to considering how to propose to him in less than a day?

But then again, what they had was something really special, Gojyo was sure. Something unbreakable. Nothing could change that.

When morning came, Hakkai was in the same place he had been after falling asleep halfway through the movie, curled against Gojyo’s shoulder. Gojyo had woken when Hakkai had started talking in his sleep, and gently played with his hair as he waited for him to wake.

Hakkai did talk in his sleep and had, for as long as Gojyo had shared a bed with him, rarely anything sensible but sometimes snippets of recipes or murmurs of denial. Sometimes, when Gojyo woke up for a midnight piss, Hakkai’s eyes would be wide open and Gojyo would jump a foot, surprised that he’d woken up except he hadn’t. He just slept with his eyes open. Weird. It was weirder when he talked in his sleep with his eyes open. When he was sleeping soundly, he tossed and turned and shifted, sometimes enough to wake Gojyo. Gojyo had learned not to care. He loved sleeping next to Hakkai.

Nearly as much as waking up with Hakkai.

Hakkai blinked his eyes open after a few minutes, and smiled. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” Gojyo chuckled and pushed a few sleep-tousled strands of hair from his face. Hakkai made a happy noise, leaning into the touch.

“I suppose I thought I might open my eyes and find myself at home or in my car, that yesterday was a dream, or that the past two weeks were nothing but a nightmare.”

“Nah.” Gojyo backed off and helped Hakkai sit up. “This is real life, see? I’m here, you’re here, and apparently, we gotta go talk to Sanzo in about an hour.”

“Ah.” Hakkai made a face as if he’d tasted something unpleasant, but rose. “Do you have clothing I can borrow?”

“It’ll be mine, but you’re not that much smaller than me, we can probably figure something out.” Gojyo went to his laundry basket to fish for clean things, then motioned. “Go on and shower. I ain’t got a mirror no more, but I promise you’ll still be handsome once you’re clean.”

Hakkai chuckled, and the pair of them went about the tasks of the morning, showering, dressing (Hakkai in a pair of Gojyo’s pants, a belt drawn tight, and a plain sweatshirt), and each helping to wrap one another’s bandages. Hakkai checked over all the cuts on Gojyo’s hand and put fresh gauze on, and Gojyo re-wrapped Hakkai’s wrists, and kissed them as he released him. Hakkai didn’t have to tell him how much he appreciated that gesture; he ran his hand over Gojyo’s cheeks, letting his palm linger at the crook of his jaw.

“I’ll take you home and make you breakfast after whatever it is Sanzo wants has been accomplished.” Hakkai kissed his nose. “How would you like your eggs?”

“Ah, hell, you sweet-talker, you know I like anything and everything you feed me.” He tilted his head to rub his nose to Hakkai’s, and muttered, “But if we’re talkin’ favorites, that omelet with the basil all rolled up in it is real nice, or the poached with the runny yolks.”

Hakkai, still smiling, and stood, leading Gojyo with him by the hand. “Anything for you. Remind me to make you a Florentine Benedict next Sunday. I’ll add basil to my Hollandaise sauce to make it greener.” He squeezed Gojyo’s hand, and Gojyo grinned.

“I’ll remind you, ‘cause I’m gonna remember. I’m already excited thinking about it.”

“Is that to say, your appetite’s back?” Hakkai studied him, looking just a little sly, and Gojyo chuckled and twined his fingers with Hakkai’s.

“If that’s how you’re trying to tell if I’m feelin’ alright, let me just say it right out: I’m the best I’ve been in forever.” He slid up to lock his elbow with Hakkai’s. “Not even Sanzo’s gonna get me down. Let’s go get his bullshit over with.”

Hakkai chuckled into his hand. “I’d disagree with your language choice, but I absolutely agree with your sentiment.”

The morning was misty after the previous day’s rains, but the sky was pink and clearing as they drove from Gojyo’s apartment towards the block their workplaces shared, and they cleared other things up as Gojyo’s rattly little Nissan crossed the train tracks:

“How soon can you end your lease?”

“I’m month to month, so if you’re serious about moving me in, I can give notice that I’m moving out later today.”

“Month to month, my, my.” Hakkai sounded unimpressed, and Gojyo chuckled.

“Well, the landlady never knows when some idiot’s gonna get himself hauled off to the slammer for selling or holding or whatever, so she doesn’t bother with annual leases. She liked me 'cause I pay on time and my check only bounced once, and she’ll be happy I’m moving out 'cause I’m going somewhere better.”

“I suppose we’ll take it as serendipity, then. If only all complications were so easy to clear up.” Hakkai sat back and sighed contently. “We can go through your things and sort what you wish to keep from what we can discard or donate to charity when we’re both off, too.”

“Not gonna lie, I love my old futon, but most of what I got is just whatever I could afford so I had a place to sleep and a spot to eat. I could fit my whole life, everything I need, into one box.” Gojyo smirked wearily over the wheel. “I guess it makes it easier to just sort of meld my stuff into yours, since you’re already all set up.”

Hakkai hummed, but it was a little unhappy. “When we redecorate the main room, we can do it together, so it reflects both of our tastes rather than just mine. I can’t be happy living in the scene of my crime.”

Gojyo groaned, and slid one hand from the wheel to take Hakkai’s just as he parked behind the garage. “Babe. Darlin’. Love of my life. I’ve forgiven you. We gotta get you to forgive yourself.”

Hakkai shuddered a little when Gojyo squeezed his hand. “I will. I am trying. I think that destroying any evidence that it happened will help me.”

“That’s fine.” Gojyo smiled and kissed his hand, then unbuckled his seat belt and opened his car door. “Let’s get on with dealing with what we’ve got in front of us, and go from there, yeah?”

The two of them walked to the main road, but as they moved through the mist, it became suddenly apparent that not all was well on their block. It looked like a tornado had blown through, leaving thick papers strewn all over the road, stuck to the garage’s doors and windows, and on the buildings all the way up the street. Gojyo scowled, and picked up one of the papers.

And blanched.

“Fuck.” He crumpled the page, then hurried to grab a few more. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He turned them all over, then spun around to where Hakkai stood, bewildered. “It’s pictures of me. The not-so-good ones.”

“What?” Hakkai’s eyes went wide, and he ran over to pick up one of the papers on the ground. Sure enough, an image of Gojyo spread-eagle and playing with himself greeted him, and he paled. “Are – are all these –?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo had an armful of them now, but despite himself, he started to laugh. “I figured it out.”

“How can you–”

“Banri. Fucking Banri.” Gojyo kept picking up, crumpling, and gathering more of the pages. “He doesn’t know where you live, and since you’re always in the bakeshop, he couldn’t pass off his little flash drive to you to ruin my life, so he basically had the weirdest fucking Kinko’s trip I can imagine and plastered my dirty laundry all over our block so both of us would know what he’d done. He knew you’d see it this way.”

Hakkai took it in, then shook his head and joined Gojyo in picking up the trash. “I’d laugh, but I rather feel like finding him and ensuring he knows my precise opinion of these images.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo smirked. “If I knew where he was, I’d make sure to litter the floor with his teeth, but since I don’t, the best I can do is clean up the mess in front of me.”

“I’ll help.”

The two of them had barely made a dent in the mess when Sanzo pulled up in his car with Goku in tow, screeched to a halt in the no-park zone in front of the bakery, and bolted over to join them with Goku a step behind. “What the fuck is all this?!”

“Holy crow,” Goku breathed, and Gojyo and Hakkai both saw him gaping at one of the overturned pictures. He pointed right at it. “Gojyo, this guy looks like you but he’s doin’ creepy sex stuff!”

Gojyo and Hakkai traded glances, and Gojyo sighed and answered, “Yeah, he sure looks like I did six years ago.”

“No way.” Goku’s breath escaped him in a weak rattle, and Gojyo rolled his eyes and continued picking up the litter.

“Yeah, my old business partner tried to blackmail me out of my garage. Looks like he made good on his threat.”

“Fortunately,” Hakkai added, “it is early yet, so hopefully few have seen all this. Would you kindly help us in cleaning up this mess?”

Sanzo, who had picked up one of the photographs, taken a long hard look at the picture, swallowed hard, then tore it up and stuffed it in his pocket, merely nodded. “Let’s just never speak of this again. We can talk business when our businesses are presentable again.”

Goku was already clearing the front yard of the garage, and Sanzo joined Hakkai and Gojyo on the street. Without a word, they united to pick the mess up, Sanzo trying not to look at any of the images as he and Hakkai moved up the street and Hakkai explained to Sanzo what had happened that brought him and Gojyo back together (leaving out a few choice details). Goku and Gojyo worked at clearing the garage proper, and Goku explained what had happened to them:

“My roommate found out Sanzo broke up with me and went to beat him up, and I chased him to tell him to cut that out.” Goku had to jump to reach one of the pictures that had somehow gotten pasted higher on the wall, but Gojyo easily reached over him to grab it.

“So, Sanzo got on his knees for his savior, huh?” Gojyo smirked and gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Hope you kept him there a few minutes, if ya know what I mean.”

Goku snorted. “Don’t be gross. Nah, he told me he was wrong, and that he’d gotten scared 'cause he didn’t want to love me and lose me.”

“Is that what it was?” Gojyo shifted his mouth left and right, thinking. “Yeah, I get it. I’m glad he got over that. You seem like you again.” He grinned and fluffed Goku’s hair. “Now ain’t you glad you didn’t hook up with me!”

Goku laughed hard, then held one of the pictures out at arm’s length, pretending to study it like a fine piece of art. “I dunno. You’re pretty hot.”

“Don’t make this weird!” Gojyo snatched the picture out of his hands. “Shit, it’s bad enough my brother and his husband and wife saw this crap.”

“Oh, crap, they did?” Goku gaped at Gojyo’s back as he sauntered past him to dump a wad of crumpled papers into the garbage.

“Like I said, Banri wanted to ruin my life. He knew where my brother lived, so he probably mailed it to him or put it in their mailbox, something like that, and Jien took a good hard look then called and told me what he thought of me. And that’s why I smashed my phone.” Gojyo shrugged and kept on picking the photographs up. “Damn, for a dude who said he was hard up, ol’ Banri sure ran up a fortune on the damn color copies.”

Goku had gaped at Gojyo’s back for a solid few minutes. Then, he shook it off. “I gotta make a quick phone call, I’ll be back.” He hurried into the garage office, and as the door shut behind him, Gojyo noticed a large piece of paper taped to the door that Goku had missed.

“Seriously, that asshole got an eight-by-ten?” He rolled his eyes and went towards it, just as more footsteps hurried towards them.

“Kouryuu! Hakkai!” Sharak was dashing towards them with Hassan close behind. “I just came outside for the first time in a few hours, I just saw, but I don’t know who–”

“We already know,” Sanzo muttered, shaking his head. Gojyo halted, as Sharak, grinding her teeth together, threw a few crumpled pages down (which Hakkai quickly scooped up).

“This is sickening! Why the hell would –”

“My ex-business partner is an asshole who knew too many of my secrets,” Gojyo answered, rolling his eyes. “Guess it’s fair game now. I was a dumb kid, alright?”

Sharak stared at him, then pursed her lips. “Point the prick out to me. Exploiting your old mistakes is plain low.” She then turned back to Sanzo and thrust her hand – and a thin envelope – towards him. “This envelope was taped to the door as well, with your name on it.”

Sanzo grunted and accepted it, and Gojyo turned back to the big paper taped to the door and yanked it off. It didn’t rip – nicer paper, Gojyo surmised – but the picture came off and fluttered to the ground, and Gojyo realized that this photograph was not of him. A strangled noise escaped him, as he got a clear view of Hakkai post-coitus, his wrists still bound by a belt with blood running over his hands, bruises on his backside and thighs, and another man’s spend on his lower back. Gojyo inhaled, his lungs trembling in his breast, and whipped around to see that Sharak was holding a similar sheet of paper folded over twice in one white-knuckled hand.

“Hey, Sharak, if that what you’ve got there is the same thing I got here, you need to give it over!” Gojyo marched over to her, already crumpling the one he held. Sharak turned to him, then glared down her nose.

“Don’t be rash. I was getting to that!” She faced Hakkai, but Gojyo could already see a hint of regret in her hawkish stare. “Listen to me. I need to know if you have ever given anyone permission to take or distribute photographs of you in the nude.”

“What?” Hakkai started, tensing up and drawing his shoulders in tight, as Sharak unfolded part of the photograph in her hand and she whispered something to him. His jaw fell slack. “I’d… never…”

“Your fucking ex. I’ll kill him,” Gojyo growled. “Say the word, babe, and I’ll feed him his own heart.”

“And deprive myself the opportunity to rend him limb from limb? I think not.” Hakkai took the printout from Gojyo, sorrow and rage warring on his face. “I wonder who’s seen this.”

“I have.” Sanzo was making a face as he read what appeared to be a handwritten note, and Hakkai winced. “He texted it to me. Bastard.” Sanzo shook the pages in his hand. “Nii’s left me some screed about honesty and some crap about living the way you want without being tied to societal expectations and – fucking bullshit.” He turned over a page to something that looked printed rather than handwritten, and turned purple. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Guys?” Goku was outside at the garage door, frowning at an envelope pinned to it, one with Gojyo’s name written on the front. “Um, someone left a note here for Gojyo.”

Gojyo turned, and realized that it had been under the large picture Nii had left. Gojyo crossed the street again in three strides and snatched it from where it was taped. “That fucking…”

“Gojyo, no!” Sanzo chased him, but Gojyo had it open before he could grab it.

“No, fuck you, I wanna see what the sorry sonofabitch had to fucking say!” He unfurled the note, reading the handwritten part aloud:

“Though we have never met, I owe you a duty of care for the sake of your business. It has come to my attention that one of your employees has deceived you regarding their identity.”

Goku went ashen, and Sanzo hurriedly drew him close.

“It doesn’t matter, alright? It doesn’t fucking matter. The person he’s talking about is dead, like you told me, and you’re here now.”

Gojyo turned the page, to see what looked like a birth certificate, with the handwritten note: “Original, unedited.” He scanned the page, only to find no name he knew, albeit a surname: “Son.” “Goku, is this–” Then, he saw the first name and the gender marker. He flipped his head up and stared at Goku hard for a very long second. Hakkai had come and rested his arm around Goku’s shoulder as well, as Sanzo braced him and Goku hung his head. Gojyo returned his focus to the page, mute. He turned his gaze back to Goku for a moment, then cocked his head. “Huh.” He looked at the page again. “Funny. I just completely forgot how to read.” Then, he shredded Nii’s note and the certificate to pieces, adding a deadpan, “Oops. Clumsy me.” He put the pieces in the ashtray beside the garage door and dropped his lighter into it. “Guess the old man’s right. Whatever that stupid piece of paper says doesn’t fucking matter.” Then, he strode over and put his hands on Goku’s shoulders, crouching to look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t, kiddo.”

Goku, his expression wrought, whispered a soft, “Thank you,” then bowed his head. “I… I would'a told you, but…”

“You don’t gotta make excuses. I get not wanting people to know where you’ve come from, not when you’ve changed so much.” He tossed a roguish grin to Hakkai, then patted Goku’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s all keep cleaning this up.”

Gojyo didn’t let Goku go before ruffling his hair so vigorously he actually stumbled a few steps, and they broke into teams again, Sanzo and Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku, and Sharak and Hassan joined the cleanup effort too, talking and laughing between themselves as if today were any other day. Each caught snippets of the others’ conversations across the way:

Gojyo heard Sanzo telling Hakkai, “I’m going to need that credit referral. I’m getting my own place. I’m putting Goku somewhere quiet and clean to recover after his surgery.”

“Ah, you’re on a narrow timeframe, are you?”

Sanzo shrugged without breaking his stride. “If it means taking him home to my parents, so be it. I think they like him better than me anyway.”

Hakkai heard Gojyo and Goku talking from his side of the street: “So, why’d you cut your hair?”

“I felt like a change, I guess.” He smiled through the little lie. Goku snorted.

“Well, it looks good, anyway. Like, a whole different kind of sexy.” Goku grinned. Gojyo snorted, and dusted his cropped hair back with a swipe of his hand.

“Yeah, that seals it, I’m growing it back out.” He winked at Goku, as Goku pretended to groan in disappointment, then continued cleaning with a nonchalant, “Oh, and expect Hakkai to invite you to a shitload of taste tests.”

The next to arrive were Koumyou and Toudai. Koumyou marched straight up to Gojyo and threw his arms tight around him without asking. Gojyo dropped the armful of posters with surprise, but pulled away and scooped all of them up, as Koumyou, smiling through obvious sadness, stood back, hands folded at his waist as Gojyo cleaned the litter up.

“I thought you may have needed that.”

“Uh.” Gojyo cocked his head, just as Hakkai came to his side with a trash bag and swept the pages into it, before looking to Koumyou with an apologetic smile.

“I’m terribly sorry I haven’t answered your calls. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself lately.” He bowed his head. “But I’m glad you came.”

“Of course, dear, Kouryuu said someone vandalized your business, what else would I do?” Koumyou took and squeezed Hakkai’s hands. “I’m merely glad to see you hale and hearty.” Gojyo noticed Koumyou’s fingers finding the bandages under Hakkai’s sleeves, and barely caught the grimace he flinched back at the discovery. “Have you taken care of yourself, dear?”

“It’s been difficult, but Gojyo has helped me get back on track.” Hakkai slid his hands from Koumyou’s grip and rested one faintly quaking palm on Gojyo’s shoulder. “I’d like to say we’ve worked out all of our issues, but I’d be lying.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo agreed, remembering something and letting his chin fall. “Uh, we’ve both got stuff to work out. Uh, Mister Koumyou, you were asking me questions I didn’t wanna answer before, or didn’t know how to. If you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to try to think it out with you again.”

Koumyou’s expression lightened. “Gojyo, I’m touched! And yes, certainly! All you need is the will to change and learn.” He gave his arm a hearty pat. “Your usual appointment time is still open.”

“Ah,” Hakkai interjected. “And do you have any other appointment slots available? I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you on occasion as well, and perhaps both Gojyo and I could speak with you together…”

“As a couple?” Gojyo frowned, and Hakkai quickly turned to him.

“If you object, of course, we don’t have to, but–”

“No, no.” Gojyo shook his head and slid a hand up to his shoulder. “No, it sounds like a great idea. I know the two of us got work to do, and maybe having someone who knows what they’re doing will help us with that.”

“That’s the spirit!” Koumyou pumped a fist with cheer. “Yes, of course, yes.” He rested his hands on each of their shoulders, contently ignoring the way Toudai chuckled and shook his head behind him. “I want you two to succeed. I’ll do everything I can to help you – though, er, Gojyo, do brace yourself.”

Koumyou suddenly stepped back, and before Gojyo could ask why, someone grabbed him from behind, tackling him out of Hakkai’s grip. Before Gojyo could even shout a protest, someone was crushing him in a bear hug.

“You idiot,” Jien was half-growling, half-crying into his ear. “You stupid idiot. Why do you listen to me? I’m sorry, dammit!”

Gojyo twisted enough to see that it was Jien hugging him as if he were a balloon about to float away if released, with Kougaiji escorting Yaone behind him, both obviously waiting their turn. Gojyo groaned and tried to swing at Jien’s head. “Let go, asshole!”

Jien caught his arm and pushed it into the hug. “Not until I’m done!” He forced Gojyo to turn and look at him – at the tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it, okay? I hate that we argue like this, and I know it’s 'cause – 'cause I did wrong, but… I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m not looking down on you 'cause of that.” Jien stomped on one of the fliers still on the ground. “I hate that you felt like you had to do that, and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry!”

Gojyo wasn’t sure what to say, and from Jien’s frantic expression, nor was he. “What are you actually tryin’ to say?”

“I’m sorry I gave you grief 'cause I found out about you doin’ that.” Jien gripped him tight. “I just, I reacted without thinking, 'cause I got so mad that you treated yourself that low, did that, but then I thought and realized…” He trailed off, then swallowed thickly. “I wasn’t doin’ a good job raising you. I’m wasn’t ready to raise you when I did get you back, and I made a lot of mistakes and I know that’s why we kept falling out. You were a kid.”

Gojyo frowned. “I should'a known better, too, y'know.” He broke eye contact. “I’m sorry I’m an embarrassment.”

Jien pinched his ear. “You ain’t. I don’t want you to think that. I love you no matter what.” He finally let go of Gojyo, but crossed his arms tight, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I guess I still don’t know how to be your brother, after everything kinda got skewed.”

Gojyo glanced to Koumyou, then smiled back at Jien. “We can work on it. I know I gotta work on me, anyway.”

“I can only promise to try.” With that, Jien laid a heavy arm around Gojyo’s shoulder and bumped his forehead against his. Gojyo broke away after a second to turn around to Kougaiji and Yaone (receiving sympathy from Kougaiji about the vandalism, but quickly turning to inquire to Yaone about 'the little olive’), and Jien turned to Hakkai. “I’m glad you came around, too. He’s a good kid. He deserves a good guy.”

“He does, but unfortunately, he chose me.” Hakkai smiled wryly, lacing his fingers in front of him. “I promise, if nothing else, to take good care of him.”

“Now, now,” Koumyou laughed, and Hakkai spun about as if he’d forgotten he was there in the first place. “I think we can all set the self-flagellation aside for a bit; we’re not monks over here! Nobody’s perfect!” He beamed, and held up a box of garbage bags. “I think if we all pitch in, we can get things cleaned up straightaway!”

“Great,” a barely familiar, flat voice added, just as Nataku popped up from behind Koumyou and seemingly out of nowhere. Gojyo jumped a foot as the kid, already holding an armful of the pictures, stared flatly at him, before turning his eyes around between Sanzo, Goku, and Hakkai. “Let’s just clean the mess up before anyone else has to see this.”

For Gojyo, Sanzo, Hakkai, and Goku, it was too strange to see every friend and family member they had unite in the same place, Toudai sitting with Yaone outside of the bakery and tying off garbage bags, Goku chattering with Nataku and Dokugakuji as they scraped pages out of the gutters (as Sanzo gave Nataku wide berth), Sanzo and Koumyou working in tandem to check over all of the lawns between the bakery and garage and diplomatically (or bluntly, depending on which was speaking) explaining to the owners and workers at neighboring businesses that were arriving now, Sharak, with Hassan at her side, being surprisingly friendly with Kougaiji, and Gojyo and Hakkai together taking up the last of the pages that had been left in hopes of humiliating them one last time. It was a tangled web they’d woven, but altogether, it felt complete.

“If nothing else,” Hakkai said as he crumpled a few pictures in his hands, and from the shift on his smile, Gojyo already knew he was teasing him, “I don’t think anything else can surprise me.”

“I dunno, I was surprised.” Gojyo crossed his arms as he waited for Hakkai to stuff the pages into the trashbag. He motioned across the street, where all their friends worked at the cleanup. “We got good folks behind us. We got some rotten stuff behind us too, but we got plenty of good people.” Hakkai nodded with agreement.

“Behind us, before us, beside us.” He nudged Gojyo’s ribs with his elbow, and Gojyo grinned and grabbed him by the waist.

“Always, babe.” He pushed the trash bag from Hakkai’s hand and was about to tip him over into a dip, when there was an uncomfortable cough from nearby.

“Golly,” someone said, and both Hakkai and Gojyo looked to see Hazel with Gat at his side, observing with a bit of a sparkle in his eye. “I do hope I’m not interruptin’ anythin’ important, though I do regret missin’ the volunteer cleanup.”

“You, is it?” Gojyo released Hakkai carefully, cast a curious frown at Gat, then focused on Hazel and crossed his arms. “I know you. You’re that kid from Goku’s college, the one crushing on me at the Y.”

“Oh, dear, is that what'cha thought of me?” Hazel cocked his head. “I admit, you were attractive, but that wasn’t why I was watchin’ you.”

Gojyo noticed Goku and Sanzo joining them out of the corner of his eye, and Koumyou close behind. Gojyo knew this was why they’d been called out this early in the first place, and furrowed his brow. “Well, if you weren’t checkin’ out my ass, why were you staring?”

“I was asked to observe you by my philosophy professor, Professor Nii Jianyi.” Hakkai gasped into his palm, and Gojyo felt his anger wake up again as Hazel broke eye contact. “Though, really, 'asked’ wasn’t the right word. I was kind of, er–”

“Blackmailed,” Gat muttered. Gojyo had been working up a fiery retort, but it got snuffed at that. Gat nudged Hazel’s back. “Tell him.”

“I suppose I have to.” Hazel put on his usual smile, but it was strained. “I was raised by a priest, and he set up a trust fund to put me through college. It was under the supervision of the sisters from his order until I graduated college, but I had free access. Trouble was, the sisters didn’t know I was gay, and if they did, well, gosh, they’d just cut me off cold 'til I wasn’t gay anymore. The Prof found out my situation, and that I was livin’ with Gat here.”

Gat squinted at Hazel a little. “You were covering your friends at Starbucks and bragging.”

Hazel whipped around on him. “When y'say it like that, I sound like a right jackass.” Gat raised an eyebrow and said nothing, and Hazel huffed in disgust and turned back to Gojyo, Hakkai, Sanzo, and Goku. “Well, no matter how he found out, he found out. He pretended to be all concerned, sayin’ it wasn’t right for me to be livin’ with an older man. He wanted to tell the sisters. I asked if there was anythin’ I could do to keep him from doin’ that, and, well…” Hazel actually evinced guilt when he looked at Hakkai. “He tol’ me he was worried about you.” Then, he subtly shifted to anger. “And he said he didn’t know what else to do. He actually pretended to care, and stupid me, I believed him.”

“He asked me to keep an eye on you and your new beau. I hung around, saw what I could, and reported everything back to him.” Hazel clearly couldn’t bring himself to look at them, head hung. He couldn’t see Hakkai, clearly violated and caught between anger and upset, or Gojyo, taking and squeezing his hand tight. “I was the one who caught Gojyo charging at that blond fella, and gave him the pictures.”

“You…” Hakkai spoke first, his expression suddenly snapping to a vicious, sharp version of his usual smile. “I certainly hope you at least got your money’s worth for violating our privacy and giving an abusive former lover of mine material he could use to manipulate me.”

“I did,” Hazel muttered. “The moment he was done with me, he told me that he was still 'concerned’ about my living situation and contacted the sisters. I’m cut off on funds. The only thing I got goin’ for me anymore is Gat here." He held his hands out. "Mea culpa. I messed up, and I know it hurt all of y'all, and for that, I’m more sorry than you can imagine.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it, kid.” Gojyo was about to step forward, when Hazel whipped his head up.

“That’s 'cause I ain’t done.” He held up his phone. “Misters Sanzo and Goku there have heard, but I want y'all to listen to this.”

He played a recorded message from Nii, one wherein Nii declared that the “arrangement was over” and that he’d told Hazel’s “sisters” about his living arrangement. Gojyo pursed his lips as the message ended. “Yeah, you told us that.”

“And you have a recording of it.” Hakkai had already done the math. “That’s clear-cut evidence of blackmail.”

Gojyo gaped. “Oh. That’s a crime, ain’t it?”

“A pretty nasty one.” Hazel nodded. “And if I understand right, he wronged you too by tryin’ to get back together with ya on false pretenses.” Hakkai shivered and took Gojyo’s hand again.

“I never even considered charging him…”

“You don’t have to, babe.” Gojyo kept his hand squeezed tight in one of his, but rubbed the other up and down Hakkai’s spine. “If you don’t wanna go to the cops about what he did, nobody’s gonna make ya.”

“I’ll have no evidence that the two of us were even intimate, or why. It’ll be my word against his.”

“No, no,” Hazel interjected. “I can testify to giving him the photos.”

Sanzo cleared his throat. “And I have the photograph he took of you, and will testify that he sent it to me. Oh, and maybe we should get him on distribution of revenge porn, since both Sharak and Gojyo can also testify that he did that – or is that not a crime in California yet?”

“I can Google it,” Goku offered, already getting his phone out.

“If ain’t goin’ away long enough for blackmail, we could really nail him with that.” Hazel looked smug and confident again. Gojyo hated that, and with a touch of his hand, he urged Hakkai to focus on him and look him in the face.

“It’s your choice, babe, and I’ll stand by you no matter what you do.”

Hakkai furrowed his brow, but he squeezed Gojyo’s hands. “I… I’ll do it. Just know that if I do, there will be no going back. I won’t recant. I’ll take it all the way.”

“And I’ll be with you the whole way.” Gojyo kept his hand laced in Hakkai’s, then glanced back to Sanzo. “You cool with us sending your brother to jail?”

Sanzo cocked an eyebrow. “No, I’d rather help you bury the body.” He let himself smirk lazily. “But sending him to jail could be interesting, if nothing else.”

“Oh man,” Goku squealed into his palm from behind Sanzo, gazing eagerly at his phone screen. “He’s gonna be in jail 'til he’s old and gray! And he’s already old! So he’s gonna be really old and gray!”

“That’s the spirit!” Hazel grinned, then grabbed Hakkai’s wrist. “Come on, you an’ me. We can call the non-emergency line, to start, and probably go down to the station from there.”

Hakkai gingerly tugged his arm from Hazel’s grip, but stepped forward. “Yes, I’m ready. Nii has tangled my life long enough. I’m eager to make a mess of his.”

“Want me to come with, babe?” Gojyo offered an arm, but Hakkai shook his head.

“They’ll be talking to me for ages and ages. I’ll text you if I need your support, but can you leave this to me?” The smile he wore for Gojyo was exceptionally hopeful. “I feel strong enough and want to prove that I can.”

“Hey, no problem.” Gojyo kissed his cheek, making sure to brush Hakkai’s jaw with his stubble as he pulled away so he could feel him there that little bit longer. “I’ll have an ear open for you, and I’m here if you need me, but I trust you.”

“And I, you.” Hakkai kissed his nose, then pivoted back to Hazel. “Mr. Grouse, let’s find somewhere private to handle this.”

“Anythin’ ya say.” Hazel patted Gat’s arm and tilted a quick smile up towards him, before departing with Hakkai a step behind. Gojyo turned around to the others.

“We still got clean-up to do, don’t we? What the hell are we standing around for? We gotta get ourselves back in business!”

And with that, they fanned out again to set everything right and get back to life the way it was supposed to be.

Toudai and Koumyou had invited everyone over for dinner and game night, but Nataku had to go to class, Gat had his other job, and Kougaiji and Jien had to accommodate Yaone, who’d been tired and worried that her stomach wouldn’t be able to handle anything too fancy. “Jien was telling me,” Gojyo told Goku, as he showed him how to peel and chop onions the way Hakkai had taught him, “that even though she’s not sick all the time, she still gets a funny tummy with heavy foods or stuff that’s really flavorful. She’s basically stuck on PBJs, mashed potatoes and white rice, steamed veggies, and chicken with, like, no seasoning.”

Goku scrunched his nose. “That’s the worst.”

“Yeah, be glad you ain’t havin’ kids, monkeybrains.” Gojyo rolled his eyes. “For her, it’s worth it, 'cause they want that little family deal. They want their kid chasin’ 'em around and growing up and stuff.” He grinned and scraped his chunks of onion, not exactly even but still pretty well chopped, into a bowl, then corrected Goku’s grip on the knife. “Watch the tip.”

Goku muttered a, “that’s what Hakkai said,” dodged the play-slap Gojyo launched in retort, then said, “I get it, though.”

“Yeah, plus Kou and Jien are spoiling her.” Gojyo grinned with glee. “He told me we might need to replace Lirin soon, 'cause they’re thinkin’ of insisting Yaone take leave early and rest, 'cause it’s hard on her, y'know? And Lirin’s already said she’ll fill in for Yaone as receptionist, and they’ll hire someone else to do the books. Plus, Jien tells me Kou’s goin’ nuts getting the house ready. I mean, knocking down walls, breathin’ fire at the renovators kinda nuts. They decided to make the baby’s room into an en-suite to the master, and…”

“Boys,” Toudai interrupted curtly from the stove. “Less talking, more chopping if you want to eat tonight.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Sorry!” Gojyo and Goku gritted back down on their task, but not before Gojyo chanced to look back at the kitchen table. Sanzo and Koumyou were together at Sanzo’s laptop computer, Sanzo begrudgingly scooted aside to let Koumyou see, as he browsed the names of local realtors so Koumyou could tell him about each of them (since he apparently knew all of them), and Hakkai had his glasses off, his eyes shut, and his head pillowed on his arms with his phone on the table in front of him.

He’d come back from the police station exhausted, likely wrung out after a few hours of questioning and likely being prodded at (Gojyo hoped they kept it to his injuries and not trying to find evidence of the act itself ten days later), and probably still tired from the accumulated effects of depression and anxiety that had ground him down to the state Gojyo had found him in the day before. Gojyo was happy to fill in for him on helping with the prep work, even though he was slow by comparison… or any standards, really. (At least he wasn’t as bad as Goku.) What he was good at was keeping the conversation miles away from the events of the day, or anything that might rouse Hakkai from his rest.

“Oh, um. That reminds me.” Goku nudged Gojyo’s side with his elbow. “I was gonna tell ya – promise – but, um, I might need to be at the desk a little while. Soon.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Goku quickly looked away.

“Um, ’m having surgery.”

“No shit?” Gojyo raised both eyebrows. “Uh, what kind?” Goku glanced up to Gojyo’s face, then back down, then patted his chest.

“These are coming off.”

“Oh – oh, fuck, you mean – oh.” Gojyo gripped the knife tight, then grinned. “Well, shit, kid, why didn’t you just say so?” He was still having a little trouble recalculating Goku’s status, because he could still only see Goku as a guy. That was probably for the best in the long run, but he loved the kid like a brother and that meant he was going to need to do some serious Googling to figure out how to treat him right. Hakkai probably knew, and they could have a good long talk about it later. Goku, for his part, just pinked when Gojyo nudged him.

“Well, um, I’ve been saving a while, and I finally got the money together. With a little help, and all.” He grinned to himself, still looking down at the potatoes on the board. “Mr. Koumyou was all, 'do it for your birthday!’ but I thought about it and realized I’m gonna have like three weeks of classes left after that and recovery’s gonna be a thing, so I think I’ll get the consult soon but schedule it for after graduation.”

“Smart kid, good on ya.” Gojyo scraped the last chunks of onion off of his knife and turned to Toudai. “Okay, boss, four onions, like you said!”

“Give them here,” Toudai said without turning from the meat on his board. Gojyo set the bowl down at his side.

“On your left.”

Toudai looked into the bowl, and did a double-take. “Good grief, boys, who taught you to chop?”

“Uh.” Gojyo glanced surreptitiously to Hakkai, Goku just shrugged, and Toudai clicked his tongue.

“Hakkai’s a great cook, but he’s obviously lenient on you as a teacher. Goku, all you have to do is ask and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

“Aw, I get by alright!”

Toudai wagged a finger at him. “Alright isn’t 'good.’ You young men need some real life skills!” Toudai flipped his focus to Gojyo again. “Wouldn’t it be nice to give Hakkai nights off?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo scratched the back of his head, as Toudai returned his attention to the pan. “Actually,” he stood close and turned their conversation to a whisper, “I’d like to do something else for him, too. Goku, shoo, me an’ Mr. Toudai gotta talk.”

Goku shrugged, but trotted away to the table as Gojyo started a conversation with Toudai in an excited whisper. He tapped Hakkai on the arm, very gently. “Hey, 'Kai, you feelin’ okay?”

Hakkai grimaced into his sleeves. “Mm. Five more minutes.”

“Leave him be.” Sanzo tugged the hem of Goku’s shirt, and Goku patted Hakkai’s arm with a little affection before joining Sanzo and Koumyou. They had moved on to looking at housing listings, and Goku grinned at the pictures of little houses that populated the screen.

“You don’t want more than this?” Koumyou pursed his lips, and Sanzo scoffed.

“Do I need more? Bedroom, kitchen, den, bath and a half.”

“So Spartan, but then, you’ve never been extravagant. What about an office?”

Sanzo shrugged and pointed at one of the listings. “Second bedroom. I can make that into an office or library.”

Goku cocked his head, but leaned over Sanzo and Koumyou’s shoulders. “Hey, what about Nataku? Can he live with us, at least 'til he’s got a job and all?” Sanzo tensed, and Goku twisted around to look at him. “I know you’re still mad 'cause he tried to beat you up, but he’s my best friend, we’re like brothers. I don’t wanna leave him in the lurch.”

Sanzo pursed his lips, then sighed and clicked the bedroom option and changed it from “1” to “3.” “His room has to be as far away from ours as possible. Preferably in a basement.”

“He likes cool places.” Goku cozied himself between Sanzo and Koumyou, one elbow on each of their shoulders, and settled in to browse, as Koumyou chuckled.

“It can be an in-law suite someday after he’s moved out.”

“Dad.” Sanzo put warning in his tones, but Koumyou shrugged.

“I may not want to live alone, dear; be kind to an old man, won’t you?” Sanzo groused something about how Koumyou wasn’t that old, but Koumyou ignored him and pointed at one of the images. “I know this area. The street is secluded, quiet, and because it’s a little out of the way, it’s a little more affordable.”

Sanzo remained impassive. “Mm.”

Goku giggled, because he knew that meant Sanzo liked it. “It’s a cute house.”

Sanzo clicked on it, then scrolled through a few pictures of the interior. “We can visit it.”

“Yes, you should!” Koumyou patted Sanzo on the back. “You should visit a few! After all, this is going to be your nest, Kouryuu. It doesn’t matter what it is, only that you like it and that it’s your decision. Just like the person you choose to nest with.”

“Mm.” Sanzo didn’t look at him, and Goku couldn’t help but giggle a little.

“It’s true. You really are super easy to read.”

Sanzo reached back and tweaked Goku’s ear, then whispered into it: “Don’t go saying that where Gojyo can hear you.”

Goku laughed aloud that time, but just then, through a lull in Toudai and Gojyo’s conversation and the pause between breaths, Hakkai’s phone rang. Everyone turned as Hakkai heaved a sigh and lifted his head from his arms to pick his phone up. He put his glasses back on, read the screen, and rose. “Pardon me, I really should take this.”

Every eye in the room turned to Hakkai as he strode from the kitchen and into the dark shop. Hakkai faced the front door, past all of the antique mirrors and art pieces, took a breath, and answered. “I thought you had finally deigned to leave me alone. Tell me why I shouldn’t hang up on you.”

“Hakkai,” Nii murmured back, all musk and honey down the line, “after all we’ve been through together.”

Hakkai said nothing. It wasn’t a question, he didn’t have to answer. He didn’t owe Nii that, nor anything.

“All these charges, Hakkai – you can’t possibly mean all this.”

“Is this really how you’re choosing to use your phone call, Nii?” Hakkai crossed his arms and held the phone in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “I’d suggest hiring a lawyer.”

“Hakkai.” He put a wealth of emotion into the word, saying his name as if Hakkai might believe he meant something to Nii. “It was just a game, you know it, this was how we played. We took a little pride in getting our teeth into one another.”

“You did, Nii. I only ever bit back. Our game ended when we ended our relationship, and don’t bother denying to me that we weren’t apart, or that we had rekindled our relationship. You detest liars.”

Nii was quiet. Hakkai inhaled slowly, looking down the street, down the road, towards the distant stars. “Review the paperwork that has been provided to you. You will find a temporary restraining order, which you have violated and which I intend to make permanent. Do not contact me again. I am leaving you in my past. I am leaving you exactly where you belong.” He caught his own reflection in one of the antique mirrors, and the image of Gojyo’s silhouette behind him, waiting for him. “Call it muichimotsu. I’ve got a bright future, one without you in it.” Hakkai hung up before Nii could respond, uninterested in anything he might say. He turned back towards Gojyo, where he waited propped against the doorframe, pretending poorly that he hadn’t been listening with utter feigned nonchalance.

“Y'know,” he said in a voice meant only for the two of them, “you probably shouldn’t’ve taken that.”

“No, perhaps not,” Hakkai agreed, smiling blithely nonetheless. “But in a way, I wanted to. Perhaps there’s still a little of that vindictiveness that he so enjoyed in me that wanted the last laugh. However, outside of prosecuting him to the fullest extent of the law, that was the last laugh.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo quirked an eyebrow, and Hakkai did laugh.

“Goodness, don’t pull roguish faces at me. You’re just too sexy like that.”

Hakkai and Gojyo ignored Sanzo’s retort of “gross,” as Gojyo instead chuckled and rubbed his nose to Hakkai’s. “All I’m saying is, send him to jail, but leave him behind. Let go. You got so much better stuff ahead of you.”

“I know.” Hakkai kissed Gojyo on the nose, just the way Gojyo liked to do to him. “I think I see a lovely dinner with many of the people I care about in my immediate future, followed by several rounds of getting our hindquarters handed to us in mah jongg. Shall we?”

“Sounds fantastic, babe. I think we shall.”

Gojyo took his hand and squeezed it as they joined the others. While none of them had forgotten what was behind them, or the rocky path that lay ahead, as Gojyo, Hakkai, Goku, and Sanzo joined one another for a shared meal and a shared night, each of them stood with trust in themselves and each other that they could make it through together.

No matter what that future was, they were going to make it through the wonderful mess that was life, family, work, friends, and love together.

#you've got something #my writing #fanfiction

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