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lumosinlove · 3 years

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Vaincre

Part ii: August

For the hope of it all

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. “Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

Moony-Eyed

@bironfam i hope this is okay!

Tony didn’t think that their new astronaut was going to be anything special.

Well.

That’s a lie.

You kind of have to be special if you’re going to be an astronaut for NASA. You have to keep your cool, have good eyesight, and be okay with the possibility of dying. Maybe. Maybe you have to be cool with that.

Tony is rather good at his job. From revolutionizing how space suits are made to making the functions of the ship easier to manage, Tony is NASA’s secret weapon, the handyman of all handymen.

He’s usually squirreled away in his workshop, at his apartment that he honestly needs to clean far more than he does, or arguing with Potts about why he needs eight different coffee mugs.

They know him as a guy who doesn’t exactly give a rat’s ass about the chain of command, or dress code.

“You can’t fire me,” he had told Happy, after he had tried once again to stop Tony from entering areas containing sensitive information in sweatpants and a sweatshirt that proclaimed him the “MIT class of 1992.”

Tony is good at his job, nearly too good. He likes it that way.

But back to the astronaut.

Danvers had taken leave to take care of her family, and honestly? Space usually isn’t a lifetime event for astronauts. You see too much of it, you need time away. A lot of time away.

Pepper is giddy. She loved Carol, but Carol was happily married with a baby girl, and this one? This one wasn’t.

Not that Pepper was looking for anyone. No, she and her partner Nat had standing date nights every Saturday evening, and she loved them too much to even think about anything else.

But Tony? Tony needed someone. He never really dated anybody, at least not anybody that he genuinely liked.

Stark was a powerful name, and it got tossed around a little bit, but Tony mostly kept to himself and only responded to it when he was at a party or Happy was mad at him for forgetting his ID badge yet again.

James Rhodes was a nicely built man with a strong, confident aura, and single.

(Pepper had checked.)

She thought that he and Tony would get along quite well, if anything.

James is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d rather just get to work on what he needs to do. Getting into the air is one of the best feelings, and the sooner he can experience it, the sooner he’ll be fine.

He always pushed the limits, and space is just the last limit he gets to push. He’s excited. He’s always wanted to work for NASA, be on their roster of astronauts. He wants little kids who identify with him to know that they can do it too.

So he’s ready to work with the best and brightest of their era.

“Where the fuck are my nachos?!”

His head whips around to a man who is wearing an ill-fitting cardigan (that is most likely not his), old jeans that have what look to be equations written on one thigh, and glasses that are most definitely broken sitting at an angle.

“Your nachos were too close to the computers,” one woman says without looking up. “Stop bringing nachos here or I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“You can’t kill me,” the man retorts.

“Tony,” comes another voice. James turns and sees who must be Pepper Potts. “Go to your office. Now. Change your pants, you wrote on them again.”

“I did?”

He looks down and swears.

“Son of a bitch!” He then looks at Jim. “Wait, who are you? Are you the new astronaut?”

“Uh, yes? I’m James.”

He sticks out his hand.

Who seems to be Tony stares at his hand.

“Your name is seriously James?”

“Do you think I’m bad at jokes?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

Tony grins.

“No, I think you’re gonna be a riot. But I’m not calling you James.”

“Jim, then.”

“No,” Tony says. “You’re not an old man, you’re still attractive.”

His eyebrows raise.

Tony’s face pales.

“I’m going to. Go. I have math on my pants.”

Pepper snorts, readjusting her grip on her clipboard.

“Welcome to NASA, Colonel Rhodes. I can promise you that we don’t usually yell about our lunch location or write on articles of clothing.”

Surprisingly, James doesn’t see Tony for two weeks. Apparently, he’s been working outside with a couple of the interns to calculate some stuff, rework some of the older ships for experience, and stay out of the way of Pepper, who says that he’s attempting to murder her via headaches to deal with.

He seems interesting, however. There are sticky notes and papers all over the offices and breakrooms reminding people of what Tony had for breakfast/lunch/dinner, or where the extra coffee supplies are.

“You provide for him?” he asks Pepper one time.

“He gets too much into his own head sometimes,” Pepper says. “He focuses too much on a program or an improvement and forgets that he works around other people. You wouldn’t believe how many times we had miniature science experiments based off of lunches that he would leave in the fridge.”

Rhodes nods. “Well. I’ll look forward to working with him.”

Tony has been working outside of the office for two reasons:

1.) To legitimately help the interns. (Ned and Peter are making improvements!)

2.) James Rhodes is the hottest guy on earth. Maybe in the universe. For real. Seriously.

He hates Pepper for this. Didn’t even tell Tony what the new astronaut looked like, and then shows up with a god of a man. Rude and unfair.

And he had to be the dumbass with the equation on his pants.

He didn’t even have spare pants! He had to stay in his office for the whole day because the equation was actually really important and he needed it.

“Why didn’t you just transfer it over on paper?” Bruce asks over the phone. Bruce is his friend who works in a technically classified, off-the-books, not-exactly-government-issued building. He’s cool. He also points out the obvious.

“I’m the biggest idiot on the planet,” Tony groans. “There was just a new guy at work, and he threw me off balance, so-”

“What’s he look like?”

“Why, you not crushing on that hot Nordic space dude?”

“No, still am. But I still remember when Barton came to work for you guys and you didn’t know that his name wasn’t George until about six months into him working there.”

“In my defense, he works mostly with physical therapy and prep for no gravity,” Tony says. “I work with math and shit.”

“Still,” Bruce says. “You wouldn’t have pointed him out if you didn’t think he was cute. What’s he like?”

“I...don’t exactly know.”

“Oh my god, you’ve been avoiding him?”

“Oh what, like you didn’t jump out of a window when Thor almost saw you in a tank top?”

“I have a farmer’s tan! Totally different circumstance!”

“Is it?”

“I hate you.”

“Get to dating Thor and then we’ll talk again. Have fun re-revolutionizing green energy, Dr. Banner.”

“Look to the stars, Tony.”

James has to get fitted for his suit.

He faces Tony, who looks quite different from when he first saw him. His hair is somewhat less messy, he has one of those geeky NASA-logo shirts that they sell at Target, and is wearing khaki pants with about a million different pockets.

(Something in his mind is whispering that he definitely shouldn’t find him attractive. But he will anyways.)

“Alright space-cowboy, let’s get your measurements,” Tony says. “You feeling okay today?”

“Right as rain.”

“Rain is never good, sunshine,” Tony quips. “Now, about your nickname from me...hm. Rhodey.”

“How’d you figure that out?”

“Substituted the ‘s’ for a ‘y’, just simple stuff,” he says with a shrug. “You approve?”

“I...guess.”

“Good. Now Rhodey, how are you feeling?”

“Like sunshine and gumdrops,” he responds sarcastically.

Tony smiles, and damn if it makes his heart thump a bit.

“Better answer, soldier. Extend those arms, please.”

Tony smells really nice. Subtle cologne and clean laundry. Rhodey finds that he likes it.

“How’ve you been doing, Tony?”

“Like a gentle breeze on a day that’s seventy-two degrees,” Tony answers. “Work’s been good today. Helen made tacos.”

“I had some of those, they were pretty good.”

“Mm,” Tony answers. “Legs a bit more apart, thank you.”

Rhodey shifts his stance a little bit, carefully not watching Tony bend down just a tad to get the bottom of his foot.

(But oof, that was hard.)

Tony comes back up again, looking into Rhodey’s eyes. For a moment, for a brief moment, his breath is taken away.

“I need to wrap my measuring tape around your waist. You okay with that?”

“More than.”

“Don’t get saucy,” Tony winks. “No one likes more than one floozy at the office, and that’s what got me this job anyways.”

Rhodey lets out a laugh, and Tony grins.

He likes making him laugh. Likes it more than he should.

They spend more and more time together. Tony always makes adjustments, Rhodey realizes that Tony doesn’t exactly keep track of when he eats, so they have lunch together.

They like it a lot.

On good-weather days, they eat outside on a bench. Tony leans against one said, foot brushing Rhodey’s calf, and Rhodey doesn’t really mind because he’ll lean over occasionally and steal whatever Tony’s eating.

“This is theft, you know.”

“You eat like a bird, what do you know about food theft?”

Tony almost always stays later than anyone else except for nights with Rhodey.

Once a month, they have dinner together. Rhodey’s new to the area and Tony’s almost never social with anyone, so they’ve been working through a list of the three-star-rated restaurants and seeing which ones they like.

“It’s kind of like a date,” Pepper says, on her monthly hangout with Tony (and also kind of a clean-up party for his house).

“Not dates,” Tony says. “Just friends. I’m sure he has his eye on someone in or out of the office.”

“Like you?”

“His first impression of me was me writing an equation on my pair of jeans, and then I haven’t exactly upgraded my style since,” Tony deadpans. “He’s seen me in neon orange sweatpants, Pep. You don’t exactly come back from that.”

“Maybe he likes you for who you are!”

“God that’s such a bullshit answer,” Tony whines. “You sound like a straight-to-video movie that came out in 1997!”

“That’s too specific.”

“And? You still get the point!”

Pepper flings a pillow his way.

“Where is your wine?”

“In the same cabinet you always leave it.”

“Goody.”

While Pepper sways to bed, Tony thinks about what she said.

It could be possible. Tony had never exactly asked him about himself in that capacity, but Rhodey never had an odd reaction to a statement that involved talking about a partner of the same-sex or a one-liner about it.

Maybe?

...no.

Guys like Rhodey deserved someone better than someone who forgot to eat lunch four out of the seven days of the week. (And maybe four was being generous.)

On the flipside, Rhodey was currently telling his woes to Carol, who was laughing at him.

“You nerd!” she says. “You like Tony, and you’ve done nothing about it? Have you even told him that you also like guys? Cuffed your pants?”

“No,” Rhodey says. “I just...why would he like someone like me? I’m...boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Carol says.

“Yeah you are!” Maria calls from the kitchen. “You’re very boring, Mr. ‘Only-Drinks-Black-Coffee’!”

Carol giggles.

“Maybe Maria has a point. Maybe.”

Rhodey groans, leaning against the couch.

“I’m so fucked.”

“On the contrary-”

“Oh shut up.”

Pepper is tired of people’s problems. They’re getting closer and closer to launch, and Clint’s out sick and Helen is being weird again, and Jane is off somewhere to a secret government-but-not-government launch to discuss things with two potential boyfriends. (Maybe boyfriends. Maybe.)

Tony is getting stressed.

Usually, he’s the only one who’s fine during a launch. He’s still cracking jokes, making fun events, and calming down people who are a bit too nervous.

But usually, he’s not as close to the astronaut as this.

He’s been thinking about the accidents they’ve had over the years. He doesn’t want a repeat. He’s been pulling all-nighters, avoiding sleep, and checking in on Rhodey consistently, to the point where Rhodey has to drag him outside and tell him that things will be fine.

(In Pepper’s professional opinion, they’d be fine if they just did a goodbye kiss or whatever, but okay.)

Tony’s getting into his own head.

So is Rhodey.

He’s going to be gone for a long time. He’s going to miss the holidays. And Tony won’t be able to talk to him everyday.

“You should tell him,” Pepper murmurs. “I think you both would benefit from it.”

“I’m not going to play that unfair card,” Rhodey murmurs back. “I either confess my love and go to a dangerous mission knowing that he loves me back and I said it when I can’t return, or he doesn’t and I just played a guilt-trip card.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?”

Rhodey shakes his head.

“I...I can’t do that to him. Wouldn’t be right. After the mission.”

“After, then,” Pepper says. “When you come home.”

Rhodey grins.

The day of launch happens far quicker than anyone wants it to, most of all Tony.

Pepper actually kicked him out of his office, told him to shower, and wear something nice for once.

“Make sure he knows he has someone to come home to,” Pepper says. “Wear your turtleneck!”

“It’s only September,” Tony scowls. “And he’s his own person who’s about to launch himself into space.”

“He will be fine,” Pepper says. “With your research and work, we’ve cut down overlooked mistakes by about forty percent.”

“Still not half.”

“Because we’re NASA,” Pepper sniffs. “Our mistakes matter more, so we make less of them.”

Tony nods.

He ends up almost being late to the launch because of Pepper’s stupid wardrobe advice.

He’s wearing his nicest pair of pants, a button-up that’s been at the back of his closet for quite some time, and he’s feeling stupid because he had to play AC/DC in the car so he would actually focus on what was going on.

Now he’s waiting for Rhodey to exit wearing the space suit that he made and to tell everyone that it was an honor and a privilege to be going to space where things happen and Tony can’t be there to help.

Life sucks.

But it goes on, and there’s Rhodey in the brilliantly-designed suit, and Tony’s never been more proud and more sad, but he sucks up his tears and walks up anyways.

“Hey space-cowboy. Ready to explore the frontier?”

“As ever,” Rhodey says. “You ready to forget to eat your lunch all over again?”

Tony smiles.

“You’ll have to check in with me soon, then,” Tony says. “Cut the mission short?”

Rhodey laughs.

“Wish I could. But I’ll send you pictures,” he says. “I promise.”

Tony stops for a moment, smile dropping from his face.

“Promise me one more thing.”

“Anything,” Rhodey says. “Anything you want.”

“Come back safe. Swear to me that you will.”

Rhodey grins.

“Safe and sound, honey. Safe and sound.”

Tony watches him board the ship, wave to the cameras, and wink at him.

He rolls his eyes, but blows a kiss anyways.

Tony’s a nervous wreck.

Pepper has decided that Rhodey needs to not go on missions anymore, or at least take Tony with him because he’s annoying.

“Can you stop crying on the second floor bathroom? It’s getting annoying,” Pepper says. “Clint says he can hear you and feels bad.”

“Well how are we supposed to know that Rhodey’s okay?!” Tony says. “For all I know, he could be dead!”

“I really hope you don’t mean that,” comes a voice from behind.

Tony whips around, seeing Rhodey’s grainy face from the big screen.

“You bitch!”

He laughs, and it doesn’t sound real, but he can see him.

“Hey Tony. You been making sure no one is pissed at you for forgetting your dinner in the fridge?”

“Well, now I will,” he admits. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Rhodey smiles. “How’s everything been down there?”

“Boring,” Tony says. “When are you coming back?”

“I got about two more months,” Rhodey says. “And then I’ll be back.”

“Quit hogging all the screen time,” Natasha teases. “You lovebirds can have your moment on earth.”

Tony blinks.

“What.”

But by that time, Natasha and Sam have already been asking a million questions, and Pepper is filling Rhodey in on what he’s missed.

Tony is still stuck on the whole ‘lovebirds’ thing that Natasha suggested.

...that couldn’t be possible. And yet if other people saw it that way...

“Tony? Tony?”

He blinks again, looking back up at the screen.

Rhodey is smiling at him, that smile that means that he’s happy to see someone.

“I’ll see you soon, honey.”

“Right back at you, space-cowboy.”

The screen goes to black, and Tony smiles a bit.

“Aw, you nerd,” Clint teases. “So, you gonna ask him out on a date?”

“Clint, I will cut off your leg,” Tony says cheerily. “I have to go finish some paperwork!”

Tony’s done all of his paperwork, it’s one of the few times that Pepper’s had it done on time.

He has to keep doing things to stop thinking about Rhodey.

He writes him letters. He knows that he won’t ever read them, but writing letters helps and sometimes it makes his hands less jittery.

He’s not ever going to send them. Ever. Letters are cheesy and they feel...personal.

Pepper tells him that he’s being lame.

“I’m not being lame!” Tony cries. “I am just. Protecting myself!”

“You have the reasoning of a Jane Austen love interest,” she says flatly. “I swear if you don’t tell him, then I’ll meddle. And you know how bad I am when I meddle.”

“You literally have made things so much worse for so many people,” Tony responds.

“Not worse, per se.”

“Oh right, how could I forget?” Tony exclaims sarcastically. “You made things the worst.”

“If we weren’t such good friends, you’d be dead,” Pepper says.

“Then let’s be worst enemies,” Tony mutters. “You still ready for pizza night?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Pepper says. “Meet at your place at seven, right?”

“Right.”

Here is what Tony does not know: Rhodey’s coming back down earlier than expected, and Pepper knows this.

So she’s been busying Tony with work while she’s acclimating Rhodey to life on earth again.

“Has he really missed me?” Rhodey asks for about the twentieth time in about two hours.

“Yes,” Pepper says. “I hope these aren’t your talking points for your interviews. If people know you’re this much of a love-struck idiot in real life, they won’t take you seriously.”

“I just missed him!”

“Oh sure,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “And I’m sure you’ll tell the news reporters that you missed me with as many stars in your eyes as now. You like him, you absolute geek.”

“Well, maybe a little,” Rhodey mutters. “But you’re sure he’ll like the surprise?”

“One hundred percent.”

Tony is having, perhaps, the worst day in his life. Maybe in history, if he’s being quite honest.

His car, for one thing, won’t start for more than is done-away-with concern, so he has to call Pepper and say that he’s going to be late since he has to fix his own car.

“Will you get coffee on the way here?” Pepper asks.

“Your usual order?”

“Yeah, you know the drill.”

Then the line is long because some stupid person wanted to complain, and Tony was this close to just threatening to buy the entire store to make it stop, and he cried on his way to work because he saw a duck cross the road and it reminded him of how Rhodey crashed his first car avoiding a duck that was crossing the road.

Yeah. It’s rough.

Then he parks in the wrong parking spot because some asshole with a stupid rental car took his usual spot, and then he stepped in a puddle.

He hates today.

“Pepper!” he declares as he enters the building. “I wore jeans today, I got your coffee, and I’m already done with the day. I swear to god if one more unexpected thing happens, I’ll just say ‘fuck it’ and go work for the Soviets!”

“The Soviets aren’t a thing, Tones.”

He knows that voice.

He fucking knows that voice. He isn’t supposed to be back from that mission for another month.

Tony doesn’t turn around.

“I’m hallucinating. Oh my god, I’m hallucinating.”

Hands wrap around his neck, hugging him.

“This feel like a hallucination?”

(Okay so Tony drops the coffee.)

Rhodey’s smile is blinding, and he’s...he’s here. Right in front of him with those not-supposed-to-be-that-hot polo shirts, those eyes that he could get lost in, and just...

Well.

He hugs him and he hugs him tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back so soon?!”

“Pepper organized it,” Rhodey says, giddy. “Decided it would be a nice surprise for you.”

Tony looks over at Pepper, who’s trying to hide a grin behind her hands.

“Pepper if I wasn’t so over-the-moon right now, your heels would be snapped.”

She shrugs.

“Worth it. You requested today off, by the way.” She winks as she turns back to her office.

“Well, what do you say?” Rhodey asked. “Help me get used to having my feet back on the ground?”

Tony grins.

“Dinner sounds like a good start. Gotta get you some good earth food, none of that dehydrated crap.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I had a decent slice of pizza?”

Tony grins.

“I can fix that.”

#lovelyirony writes #YES THE TITLE IS FUCKING PUNNY I'M HILARIOUS WHAT ABOUT IT #rhodeytony #tonyrhodey #ironhusbands #rhfe #rhodey #tony stark #iron man #war machine #pepper potts

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

the shapes in the silence (10)

this fic requested by @fromsomewhereoverthere as a giveaway prize! thank you for your patience!

warnings: crying, repression, people misunderstanding/talking over each other, virgil’s awful no good dissociation, negative talk

Chapter 10

Virgil wasn’t surprised when he woke up on the edge of Patton’s bed distinctly not tiny-dragon-shaped, the moral side starfished out beside him.

Of course, not being surprised didn’t mean not being very, very panicked, especially when Patton began to sleepmumble indistinctly. It was as sure a sign as any that he was going to be waking up soon.

Luckily, Patton was much less clingy in sleep than Roman had been, with only a hand thrown over Virgil’s shoulder and an ankle twining under his leg. It was easy enough to sidle away, right up until the mattress disappeared from under him and his stomach lurched as he fell right off the side of the bed with a yelp.

“Humh?” Patton grunted, blankets shifting, and Virgil did the first thing that came to mind with his whole brain in a screaming panic. He rolled under the bed.

There was the creaking of bedsprings above him, and then a muffled yawn. “Mmgh. Puff? Where’re you, buddy?”

Two feet swung over the edge of the bed to plant themselves on the carpet, and Virgil felt blood rushing in his ears as though he was about to pass out. He’d tried to convince himself last night that maybe Patton wouldn’t be disgusted if he found out, but he knew what kind of luck he had, and it wasn’t the kind that was generous with maybes.

Feet away, Patton got on his hands and knees to peer under the bed. Virgil shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see his expression when he finally realized who “Puff” really was.

There was a pause that felt both too long and too short as Patton shifted again, and then gasped...

“There you are, little guy!”

Virgil opened his eyes, blinking in surprise at the sight of tiny talons instead of fingers in front of him. He’d changed back? He hadn’t been able to while he was on the bed with Patton, or even earlier, tangled up with Roman. What was different?

Patton wasn’t privy to his confusion, laying flat on his stomach and reaching out a coaxing hand. “Did you have a nightmare, Puff? It’s okay, it’s not real. I know sometimes things seem scary, but we’re together, okay?”

Virgil shook himself, focusing back on the matter at hand. He could worry about his scaly ailment’s odd restrictions later. For now, he had to convince Patton to stop shoving all his bad feelings down.

He slunk out from under the bed, brushing against the back of Patton’s hand as he went, and sat right in front of the moral side’s face, inspecting him sharply. Don’t think I forgot about yesterday, he tried to convey with a glare.

Patton barely even blinked at a mythical creature full of sharp teeth and claws getting in his space, because that was just the kind of person he was. At the look, he did have the grace to at least appear sheepish.

“Hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry about me, I’m all better now, see?” He spread his arms out like he was attempting to make a snow angel face-first. “Back to normal size and everything, not a single problem here--!”

A sharp pop that made Virgil recoil with a squeak, and Patton laid before him once again at a diminutive five inches. He sat up with a frown. “Fiddlesticks.”

Virgil couldn’t make a sarcastic comment about language, so instead he churred at Patton, unimpressed.

“Okay,” Patton sighed, “I guess maybe we should go talk to the others, huh?”

---

One jaunt over to the commons later, Virgil stood a vigilant guard as Patton showed the others his new stature.

“And you’re certain no curse triggered it?” Roman asked again, looking troubled. “You weren’t poking at any of my gifts from the imagination or anything?”

“Nope,” Patton answered, stretching his shoulders absently. “I was just curled up on the floor with Puff, ‘cause he seemed like he could use a hug from a friend, and I…”

His voice trailed off weakly, a brittle smile beginning to form, and Virgil leaned down to bump his head against Patton’s shoulder in gentle remonstration. Patton stared at him for a long moment, smile still half-frozen on his face, and then let the expression crumple.

“... I think I needed a friend hug, too.”

Roman and Logan exchanged panicked glances for a moment, and Virgil huffed a small puff of smoke at them pointedly. Huh. He hadn’t known he could do that.

Before either of them could speak, however, Patton shifted back to normal with a pop and some flailing that knocked over most of the objects nearby. Virgil jumped nimbly to the couch to be out of range. In hindsight, they probably shouldn’t have people who were going to abruptly jump in size stand on a slightly-messy table.

Patton sniffled, adjusting his disheveled glasses, moving to roll off the table. He looked like he was on the brink of apologizing for his feelings again, so Virgil growled and scaled Roman’s arm to reach his shoulder, cuffing him over the head with a wing. Show him support, already!

Roman shot him an offended look, but moved forwards anyhow, offering Patton a hand up. The moral side took it and then was promptly tugged into a hug, Princey lifting him right off the ground for a moment. Still clinging to Roman’s shoulder, Virgil could see Patton’s surprised expression relax and descend into small sobs as he finally let go.

“Hey, hey,” Roman offered soothingly. “Don’t worry about it, Pat. We all have our bad days, nothing wrong with that.”

Patton shook his head slightly, but didn’t say anything to the contrary, and Virgil leaned forwards to gently butt foreheads with him before Roman finally released him.

“How about we help you with breakfast? I can fry up some excellent bacon, if I do say so myself, and Specs is excellent at waffle measurements.” Roman winked, leaning in to stage whisper to Patton. “I'm sure we can sneak in some chocolate chips by the time the batter is ready.”

Logan rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and exchanging his normal attire for an apron with the NASA logo on it. “With the advantage I have in attention span, I believe my waffles are at no real risk from the two of you.”

Roman gasped in outrage, and Patton managed a teary chuckle. “You’re going to eat those words! And some delicious chocolate chip waffles!”

Virgil balanced delicately on Roman’s shoulders as they all moved to the kitchen, and he chirped in warning before using the creative side as a springboard to clamber up the side of the fridge. Princey snorted at his scramble, but before long all three of the human-shaped sides were busy bustling around the kitchen and Virgil was free to curl up on top of his excellent vantage point and take a well-deserved nap.

“Anxiety?”

Virgil jerked awake automatically, half-ready to duck away from a blow and snarl a retort, but-- he glanced down at his talons. Still Puff. Then, what…?

“Padre, I know you try to see the best in everyone, but I don’t want that guy anywhere near Puff,” Roman was saying, piling the last pieces of crisp bacon onto a plate with a little more force than necessary. “You should’ve heard the way he talked about him, it just makes me— ugh!”

He threw his hands up emphatically, and stalked over to the dining table to set the plate down. Patton followed with a dish of waffles stacked high, looking conflicted. Virgil absently noted that Logan had let them get the chocolate chips in after all.

“I know, they don’t seem to get along, but maybe if we all just sat at a dinner together…” he tried, but his voice was weak.

“For once, I have to agree with Roman,” Logan chimed in, carrying a cup of freshly poured coffee to his seat. “Even without Puff to take into account, I suspect that strong negative emotion is the last thing Morality needs to deal with right now.”

“And we all know that’s what Anxiety will bring to the table,” Roman added, stabbing a fork viciously into his waffle. “That Negative Nancy never has anything nice to say to anyone.”

“I… I guess,” Patton said, moving to sit in his own chair with one last look cast over to the stairs.

Virgil felt a tightening in his throat that probably meant he was going to be all sorts of emotional about this moment later, when he was human. Sometimes the anxiety-dampening feature this form came with was handy, he reflected as he glided down to the floor with only a little wobbling. It wouldn’t do him any good to be acting sad when they weren’t even talking about him.

Something in his mind twinged. He slowed his trot across the carpet for a moment, reviewing his last thought.

… Puff. They weren’t talking about Puff. He was still Anxiety, like it or not.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, shooting him a smile before leaning over to offer him an arm up. He shook the errant thoughts away, deciding that he should eat first.

It was better that they didn’t go get Anxiety anyways. Then he’d have to sneak off to play his role or risk them getting suspicious of an empty room. Between being forced through another tense, glare-filled breakfast as Anxiety or sitting content as the tiny dragon people actually liked, the latter was clearly the better option. It just made sense. Who would want Anxiety over Puff, anyways?

“Speaking of Puff,” Logan started, nodding at him politely, “I was considering the shrinking occurrences again while cooking. Morality, you said Puff was there when you first reduced in size, correct?”

“Mmhm!” Patton hummed through a mouthful of waffle. Virgil paused in dragging another piece of bacon to himself to tilt his head at Logan curiously.

“Roman, you believed your reduced size was due to a curse, but Puff was also with you when you first transformed, was he not?”

“Well, yes, but I’m not entirely sure I like where you’re going with this,” Roman said, frowning. “Surely you can’t be implying that Puff is the cause?”

Logan didn’t falter, pushing his glasses up slightly as he peered at Virgil. “He is currently the only constant variable in the two cases, seeing as neither I nor Anxiety have been subject to this… shrinking phenomenon. We still don’t know where he came from, and—“

“Stop right there, Specs. First Anxiety, now you? There is nothing bad about Puff!” Roman insisted, and if Virgil wasn’t so busy watching the two of them glare, he would have laughed.

“That’s not what I was—“

“Roman’s right, kiddo,” Patton cut in this time, placing a hand on Virgil’s ridged back supportively. “I know you want to get to the bottom of this, but that’s no reason to start accusing friends.”

Logan took a deep breath. “I know that, I’m simply suggesting that we investigate all possible causes. Unless you want to be left doll-sized without warning at random periods?”

“I think we’re learning to handle it pretty well,” Patton offered optimistically. Roman nodded, looking a bit smug.

“Personally, I've had enough practice that I’m confident I can reverse the transformation at will! You’re falling behind, Snorelock Holmes.”

Virgil ducked back slightly, watching as Logan visibly grit his teeth. “I—“ he faltered for a moment, lips thinning, and then stood. “I am going to retire to my room. I will speak with you all at a later date.”

He immediately sunk out, ignoring Patton’s protests. Roman rolled his eyes, and then visibly remembered that he was supposed to be cheering Patton up and turned back to the moral side. “Look, we’ll let Calculator Watch cool his jets by doing sudoku puzzles or whatever it is he enjoys. In the meantime, I was thinking of having a movie marathon, which you are most certainly invited to. Maybe some classic Disney will lift your spirits?”

Patton nodded slowly, still looking slightly troubled. “It feels wrong to let him storm off like that, but I don’t want to make him upset by pushing…”

“Then it’s settled!” Roman decreed, rising to his feet and sweeping a few dishes off the table into his hands. “I’ll clean up here and prepare some snacks-- other than myself-- so you go pick a movie to start with.”

Virgil left the last piece of bacon on his plate untouched, appetite suddenly gone as a strange compulsion tugged at his chest. He jumped down to follow Patton over to the couch, and then slowly ambled over to the stairs as Patton began shifting through their movie cabinet. If he could just make his motions casual enough...

“Puff? Where’re you going, buddy?”

Virgil twisted to peer over his shoulder at Patton, who seemed curious but thankfully not upset. He glanced up at the hall that led to Logan’s room, and then back to Patton. Wasn’t it obvious?

“You’re gonna go check on Logan?” Patton asked, and Virgil hopped up another step in confirmation, waiting to see what the moral side thought. “I see… Maybe you’ll know what to do better than I do. Stay safe, okay?”

That was a relief. If it had been Roman, he probably would have had a much more difficult time scampering off. The prince was bizarrely attached to his dragon self.

He chirped once and continued to scale the stairs, claws finding easy purchase on the carpeted corners. It was only once he’d vanished from view that he began to slow, wondering what exactly his plan was. Logan was upset, that much he knew, but how could he fix it? He was Anxiety, and dark sides weren’t really known for ‘fixing’ things.

There was another tug in his chest, an urge to go-find-protect that only increased with his certainty that Logan was hurting. He took a deep breath, shaking his wings out. First things first, there was no way Logan wanted to see him like this, not after his theory about Puff was the reason he’d gotten agitated in the first place.

Not to mention, he didn’t particularly want to reveal anything more about Puff to the intelligent side when he barely knew what was going on himself. He focused for a moment, closing his eyes and pulling for the harsh cold edges of his real form. When he opened his eyes again, the world around him was visible from a human eye level once more, and his lungs felt as though they were being constricted.

He stuttered through a few shallow inhales, and then firmly stomped down the panic and racing thoughts down before they could reverse his transformation. He was Anxiety now, and that meant everything that came with it. He’d deal with the panic attack later.

Unfortunately, including his less-than-popular social status, he reflected as he knocked on Logan’s door for the third time. “Logic, it’s me-- shoot, I guess we all kind of sound the same, huh? It’s Anxiety. Are you going to let me in or not?”

Silence.

“What, did you drown in a lab sample or something? Come on, I know you can hear me.”

Not a peep from behind the door, but the certainty that Logan was feeling threatened and overwhelmed only increased. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides for a few moments, and then he growled in frustration. “Screw it, I’m going in.”

Surprisingly, Logan’s door wasn’t locked, the handle twisting easily under his grip. He entered with careful steps and stopped short. It wasn’t a particularly large room, professional-looking with not many places to hide. Logan wasn’t visible on the bed or at his desk, and he didn’t seem the type to dive into a closet to hide from someone.

Despite the evidence before his eyes, he knew that Logan had to be in the room, which meant that he was tiny. Everyone in this part of the mindscape had officially had a turn, it seemed. Virgil forced his thoughts away from that line of thinking, since he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack at the moment.

“Logan? I know you’re in here, dude.” After a moment of hesitation, he knelt on the floor, watching the ground carefully.

There. He doubted he’d have caught it if he wasn’t Anxiety, but there had been the slightest movement in the corner of his eye, under the desk. Without thinking, he turned his head to look closer, and was rewarded with the sight of a tiny form stumbling back a few panicked steps.

“Hey-- wait!” Virgil lunged forwards, chin meeting carpet as he just barely reached his goal. He heard Logan yelp as hands bracketed into a curved shape around him, the tiny side backing into his fingers for a moment before jerking away.

“Anx— Anxiety, what is the meaning of this?” Logan said, tilting his chin up and trying to conceal the way he was slightly shaky. Afraid of him.

Virgil kept his hands still, resisting the urge to scowl. “Relax. I’m not going to grab you. Here, just—” He glanced behind Logan, and nudged him forwards slightly, ignoring the glower sent his way with practiced ease. Once he deemed the nerd secure, he pulled his hands away, propping himself up on his elbows.

“If you’re finished assaulting my person, I’d appreciate an explanation. Now,” Logan demanded, looking increasingly exasperated.

Virgil rolled his eyes, pointing. “You were about to take a nosedive, Pocket Protector.”

Logan turned and blinked at the open heating duct on the floor under the desk. The one he’d been about to trip back onto, resulting in at best a sore backside and at worst a bone-breaking fall. “... I see. Well, you have my gratitude, though I doubt I would have encountered such a difficulty if you hadn’t decided to intrude upon my abode.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes, and Logan coughed tactfully before continuing. “It’s irrelevant now. What was it that you needed?”

“Me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s literally pint-sized at the moment.”

“I would estimate my current height is closer to a half-pint,” Logan corrected, “and regardless, it’s none of your concern.”

“It’s my concern when it means I could be next,” he countered, thinking fast. “You’re Thomas’s intellect, you’ve got to have some idea of what’s happening. Why it’s happening.”

“I do have a hypothesis, however, regarding--” Logan cut himself off, face falling into a frown. Virgil could see the wheels turning in his little head, and resisted the urge to wince. “You were eavesdropping.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Virgil answered anyways with an echo of his usual smirk. “Remember, I’m always listening.”

“You only listen to yourself,” Logan snapped back with surprising ferocity. Virgil opened his mouth, but the logical side wasn’t done. “You’re the same as the others, too emotional to actually use your brain for anything but your own feedback loop. You’re only listening to me because you think I'm on your side of this conflict.”

“That’s not true,” Virgil interjected, shifting to sit up with a frown. Logan took another step away, craning his neck up, but didn’t back down.

“Oh?” Logan said, sounding incredulous enough to make Virgil’s hackles rise. “What would you think, then, if I said that I believed Puff wasn't behaving maliciously?”

Virgil bit his tongue on his instinctive response, forcing himself to take a moment and think about the suggestion without letting any of his insider knowledge of the situation slip. If Patton had found a sentient monster that everyone seemed to love, and then everyone exposed to it had started shifting mass at around the same time? Yeah, he would absolutely have a healthy suspicion, and more than a few conspiracy theories on the topic.

The real question was, would he be restrained enough to trust Logan’s judgement? He hesitated.

“Look, I can’t not be suspicious, but…,” Virgil sighed at the slight slump of Logan’s shoulders. “Ugh, whatever. You’ve spent more time near that little monster than me. If you think it isn't trying to hurt anyone on purpose, then fine, I’ll follow your lead until-- I mean, unless-- unless things get dicey.”

“You… are being genuine.” The scrutinizing look that Logan gave him was almost insulting, but fair. He was still a dark side, after all, and even now he was hiding his actual motivations to keep himself safe.

Virgil shrugged. “You generally know what you’re talking about. It’d be stupid not to listen to you, and I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I leave that to Princey-- woah!”

With a loud thunk, Logan had returned to his normal size, half his body knocking against the underside of the desk. Virgil did wince this time. “Ouch.”

Of course, when he emerged from under the desk, necktie askew, he barely even seemed to notice the bump, eyes alight as he looked at his hands. “Did you see that?”

“A bit hard to miss,” Virgil muttered, and was promptly ignored as Logan scrambled through a pile of notebooks for the right one to jot his new findings down in, mumbling to himself about triggers and overlapping variables.

Virgil sighed in faux annoyance, careful to conceal the relieved smile he felt coming on at the sight of a return to status quo. “Alright, nerd, I’m leaving. Remember to sleep, or Thomas will stay up on wikipedia all night, and I’ll make him google creepypasta as payback.”

“Wait, Anxiety,” Logan looked up, his pen stilling on the page. “You do know that if you ever suffer from this affliction, you can reach out, correct? I’m aware we are not always on the best of terms, but such a shift can be… disorienting, to say the least. It would be illogical of me to leave you to face it alone.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “I know. Don’t worry, Teach, I’m aware that you want to know about every instance of this shrinking thing.”

Logan frowned as though he wanted to say something else that might embarrass them both, so Virgil spared him the effort by saluting shortly before sinking out.

As soon as he was in the hall again, he knocked a fist to his shoulder in a self-soothing motion, panic rising up like a wave. He’d promised himself he’d deal with these feelings, but with them bearing down on him like this…

He turned towards the faint sound of Lilo & Stitch in the commons, and released his grip on his human form, feeling the stress fade into the background as he became Puff again.

He could afford a little more time like this, couldn’t he?

#sanders sides #g/t #ts virgil #tiny dragon virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #tsits #the shapes in the silence #writing #my writing #ominous stockholm syndrome is ominous #i think this is the longest chapter ive written for tsits #i hope that helps make up for the like five month delay #T-T #ask to tag #yes i am posting this at the witching hour no you cannot stop me

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Note

(yes i'm sending two). the other one should be in the kitchen for no reason at all, with whatever ship you want! :D

I am a simple human. I see "whatever ship I want" and my mind immediately screams analogical XD I had too much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy tooth rotting fluff!

Just How Lovely He Is

Summary: Logan gets lost in thought as he thinks about his life with Virgil, deciding after that a kiss is definitely needed.

Warnings: very brief, non explicit sex mention.

Ships: Romantic Analogical, Logan x Virgil

WC: 1, 573

Logan smiled softly as he watched Virgil from over the edge of his book. He hadn't turned the page in a while but thankfully the younger man hadn't seemed to notice over the music playing on the counter beside him. Evanescence played a rolling beat to accompany the clanking of dishes Virgil had insisted on doing, bowls and pans from their late lunch of valiantly attempted vegetable stir fry stacked gleaming in the drip rack. He still wore his hoodie, albeit with the sleeves scrunched up tight above his elbows, tendons tensing and releasing in his thin wrists as he scrubbed at a patch of rice stuck burnt to a pan's bottom. Logan's smile grew wider as the other huffed at his long bangs that had fallen into his eyes to make them fluff away for a moment only to let them fall back again.

His hair was just as long as when Logan first met him, all bite and almost no show as his sarcastic quips kept people at a comfortable arm distance, preferably more if he could manage it. But he had needed help and Logan was right there. He remembered how the darkly dressed boy had turned to him angrily, false bravado flashing in his eyes but fingers twisting in stretched out sleeves telling an entirely different story. The math had been hard, calculus being new to both of them and Logan with only the tiniest step up in understanding to really add to Virgil's confusion. They had both stuck it out though, too stubborn to give up on what they had silently agreed would be a one time thing anyway and as long as they had worked together in class they may as well puzzle out their homework together at the library.

The library had turned to the common area, and the common area Logan's dorm room where Virgil had discovered his self edited poster of Ellie from Up pointing to a NASA logo exclaiming "Adventure is out there!". Virgil had laughed, calling him a nerd to which Logan had immediately bristled but quickly calmed when the emo began rambling about his old dorm mate that had been obsessed with all things Disney and Pixar, Up being a movie Roman would cry in the beginning for every single time it was put on. He went on to talk about debates the two would have and the arguments that would often break out about the true meaning behind the films which had then dissolved into conspiracy theories that Logan was quickly sucked into, homework forgotten as they chatted long into the evening, only shutting up once their stomachs growled and they had laughed at the hours that went by, mutually deciding pizza over calculus was the way to go.

The first time Logan remembers thinking Virgil was beautiful they were eating at a park bench trading class gossip back and forth when he had said something particularly relatable, making Logan's eyes light up as he dug out a flashcard he had just made without thinking, nodding to himself before quoting "same-sise". Virgil had looked so confused as Logan registered what he had done, quickly hiding the note card against his stomach and looking down in shame.

"What did you just say L?" He had said.

"I was...I had read the slang word a few times and looked it up since it seemed relevant. I'm not...the most proficient at new social terms."

"Hey it's alright, honestly. Can I see?"

Reluctantly he had handed over his cards and watched as Virgil read the word over. "It's pronounced same-seas. But you used it in the right context. Some of these are outdated though...I could teach you the new ones people use now if you want? So you can keep up with conversations and stuff."

Flabbergasted Logan could only nod, watching as a huge grin broke out on Virgil's face, one of the few genuine smiles he offered. No judgement, not even a hint of disdain were found in his gray green eyes, making Logan's stomach flip with an unfamiliar feeling at the thought of being listened to, wanted, and only one thought graced him with its presence as Virgil began talking again.

'Beautiful'

Later on Logan learned about Virgil's panic attacks, helping him through several and regularly guiding his breathing before tests and after classes. Virgil learned of his own pent up anxiety attacks and was always there to lay a careful hand on his shoulder or words of encouragement from a safe distance away. They learned it was okay to lean on each other, asking for help at two in the morning or a hug at three. Virgil found tight hugs and soothing backrubs grounding while Logan found he very much enjoyed the others pale fingers carding through his dark hair. They weren't always physically affectionate, sometimes they couldn't be as touch could be too overwhelming, so quiet 'heys' were exchanged with soft looks instead.

The first time 'I love you' was said it was whispered so quietly Logan had almost missed it, tucked under the blankets with his legs tangled with Virgil's and fingers threaded together. His heart had nearly stuttered to a stop, emotions overflowing as those three words hit him harder than anything anyone had ever said to him. It hurt, how much he loved Virgil, with his despicable music taste he had grown accustomed to and had downloaded to his phone. His dyed purple hair that he grumbled about staining the towels. The way he always had the AC cranked up because of the oversized hoodie he wore everywhere all year long since it was his favorite comfort item. His chipped fingernail polish and dark eyeshadow that did nothing to hide the bright smile that had slowly become more and more common. He had choked on his sobs, Virgil's breath hitching as he began to stutter out an apology before lips were being pressed to his own even as tears dripped down to splash against his cheeks. Logan had pulled back, embarrassed, just managing to gasp out his long belated confession.

"I love you too. Virgil, I love you so much-" Their lips had met again, softer and sweeter and nowhere near perfect with snot dripping from Logan's nose and Virgil's palms sweaty with anxiety but it was fine because Virgil loved him.

Virgil loved him.

And Logan loved Virgil. From chaste kisses shared (not so) discreetly in the halls to heavier ones shared between moans behind firmly shut doors. Logan held Virgil's hand or linked pinkies or pulled him down on his lap as he read. Virgil wrapped warm and safe arms around his shoulders or held his face between cold palms or brushed their shoulders gently in passing. They shared friendly banter and heated arguments alike, both too stubborn to admit to a wrongdoing in the moment and having cool off separately for however long it took for one to miss the other, which was never that long at all really.

Unfortunately life had gotten in the way. Different jobs across the town and neither of them owning a car meant Virgil stayed in an apartment building close to his work while Logan did likewise miles away. Still more often than not they enjoyed eachothers company in either apartment, Virgil's being smaller and cramped while Logan had yet to disclose he had rented a two bedroom much closer to a mid way point between their respective jobs. They had discussed it earlier but at the time neither of them had had the finances so it was put in the back burner. Until now.

Logan came back from his reverie to see Virgil finishing up drying the dishes, mouthing along to a new song as he bounced in place slightly to the tune, making Logan smile yet again. Everything Virgil did was infuriatingly adorable, from his hips swaying slightly as he bent to put a pan back to the way he tried to be subtle about pushing back the hair he knew had grown too long from his face. Mind made up, Logan stood and smoothly took away the towel to place it on the counter, reaching up to gently brush Virgil's bangs from his beautiful eyes staring at him in question. Instead of answering Logan brought both hands up to the others cheeks, brushing them over softly with his thumb as he leaned forward.

Their lips met as Virgil twisted Logan's shirt in his fists to pull him closer, closed mouth kiss long and lingering as they smiled into it. Logan brought his hand around the back of Virgil's neck and tipped his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a simple swipe of the tongue, teeth carefully avoided with practice and mouths moving in sync. Logan pulled away first only just enough to lean forward and press their foreheads together, still holding the other as gently as he would a treasure, eyes locking as Virgil's eyes crinkled with adoring amusement.

"What was that for you sap?" He asked softly, rubbing tiny circles against his stomach through his now wrinkled shirt.

The extra apartment key felt heavy in his pocket with the added stormcloud keychain he had had specially commissioned, weighing his pocket with a promise he couldn't wait to make. "No reason."

Smiling he kissed the other again and again, making him laugh and bat playfully at his face.

No reason at all.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kiss prompt #sanders sides fluff #fluffy fluff #analogical #virgil x logan #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides analogical #false writes

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datawyrms · 4 years

Text

A Passion

Dannymay 2020 Day 17: Childhood (Shoutout to @lordlyhour for pointing out to me that the Fentons have SATELLITES for their Fenton Finder lolwut. canon is wild sometimes)

Inventing was a long and difficult process, and the length of that process had nearly doubled after they had two pairs of little feet underfoot. Not that he’d have it any other way. Their energy and excitement for anything new was always a delight, which is why he preferred to work on blueprints upstairs. Jazz usually wanted to know what something was meant to do before wandering off to amuse herself, but Danny would lock on like a burr the second anything related to flight came up. The wide eyed seven year old would happily perch on the couch or clamber on the table to get a better look, tracing the drawn lines and struggling through any word that looked ‘important’ to him.

“It gonna go to space? Really?” His son looked about a second away from asking if he could go to space too, and Jack couldn’t help chuckling a little as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“You betcha Danny. This little guy is gonna get all the way up there and drop off a satellite for us!”

“Is it gonna look at the stars? Can I see?” Of course the only thing Danny found more exciting than flight was space and the constellations above. Something about how far away they were but still visible seemed to completely capture his attention.

“Ah kiddo, this one is going to be looking down at us! It’s going to support the Fenton Tracker, so we can keep an eye on all those pesky ghosts!”

Danny frowned a little, pressing into his father’s side as if a ghost was going to pop out right that moment. “Don’t like the spookies,” he mumbled.

Jack pulled his son into a hug “That’s why me and your mom are gonna protect ya from em Danno. No spook is laying a finger on you guys.”

“Mmmkay.” he didn’t seem too sure, blue eyes still glancing around the room.

“You want me to explain how that little rocket is going to get up there?”

Danny’s fear vanished, nodding so hard it almost looked like it could fall off. “Yeah! Does it need to know where the stars are? I can point out lots now!”

“Well the rocket won’t need to know where the stars are, but you can show me some after dinner, how about that?”

“Rocket first?”

Jack laughed again, there was that good ol Fenton tenacity. “Rocket first, comeere kiddo,” he helped the eager child up onto his lap before leaning over the plans to better show what he meant. Most of it was going to go right over Danny’s head, but it might help him learn it in the future.

“Mom?”

Maddie put her pencil down, looking down to see her son clutching some sort of envelope.”What do you have there sweetie?”

The boy gave a little hum as if unsure he wanted to answer that. “Jazz thought I’d like it. I thought grown ups couldn’t have paper with ships on em.” He pulled part of a sheet of paper out, thumbing the red and blue logo.

She’d thought Jack had that letter, but Jazz filching it to pass on to her little brother wasn’t too big of a surprise. “That’s a logo Danny, you know like ours?”

“The green F?” he tilted his head. “Can our logo have a spaceship? It’s cooler.”

“We don’t usually deal with space sweetie, so it wouldn’t make sense.”

“Oh,” he looked a little disappointed, but brightened quickly “So these guys do stuff with space all the time?”

“That’s right. We’ve been collaborating on a few projects, like the rocket you keep begging Dad to see,” she smiled, proud he’d managed to get to that conclusion so quickly.

Danny crossed his arms with a huff “Isnot begging! Is just cool and I wanna see it.”

“You’ll get to see it when it’s safe, okay?” The childish pout remained, and it was a struggle not to laugh at how eager her son was. “Jazz might be able to help you look up what NASA is, if you ask her nicely.”

He rocked on his heels for a little bit. “Space stuff is cooler than ghost stuff. They’re scary.”

“Well if you study hard, you might be able to work with NASA one day, and help make rockets yourself.” She did laugh this time, as the boy seemed blown away that ‘making space stuff’ could be a job at all, sprinting off and calling for his sister to tell her this very important knowledge. It was a bit of a shame he had no interest in ghosts, but it was good to see he already had a passion he wanted to follow.

She did need to get that letter back once he was distracted though. She was pretty sure that was the strongly worded letter asking them to kindly stop throwing things into orbit without telling anyone. The kids could learn about the perils of being the forerunners of a field of science later.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Jazz Fenton #my stuff #pretty sure the fentons would be pretty hype for any interest of their kids #since theirs gets blown off so much #so i guess you get cute funtimes #until you realize danny is not going to work for nasa #rip yur dreams dead boy

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softboywriting · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets | Werewolf AU

Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [werewolf au] [fluff] [light angst] [choose your ending] [full fic]

Word Count: 23.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you accepted the offer of a room at a house with three male werewolves you knew life wasn't going to be easy. Your parents weren't thrilled with the idea but you're twenty one now and you had to live somewhere off campus. The rent was what got you attention. Only three hundred a month and you got a huge room to yourself on the first floor. When you went to check the place out it seemed nice, clean, like a normal house. That's when you found out that the other tenants were werewolves. The low rent made sense then. They were probably having trouble finding someone to live with them. You don't mind werewolves, you've known a few, it's no big deal.

There was only one of the guys there the day you went to view the house, his name was Peter and he was super kind and had answers to all of your questions.

Peter called you back the day after you were given a tour of the house and he said they agreed they'd like to have you as their housemate if you were up to it. You couldn't say no. Everywhere else was way too high priced and this place was close to campus. It's perfect...until you move in.

You're hauling a tote full of books through the front door and Peter walks up to you to help. He's got on pajama pants and a hoodie with the school logo on it, glasses on the end of his nose and his hair a mess. He's cute.

"I got this, go grab some more stuff."

You leave the tote to Peter and go out to grab some bags of clothes. When you get to the back of your car there is a guy standing there who looks exactly like Peter. Only he has longer hair that's just as curly and no glasses.

"What..."

"I'm Shawn." He says, holding his hand out. "You must be the new housemate?"

"Wait what? Are you and Peter twins?"

"Sort of, we're triplets. Our other brother Raul should be here somewhere." Shawn looks over at the motorcycle by the garage. "That's his bike so he must be here."

"I'm sorry...Peter didn't mention that the other two guys were his identical brothers. He just said two other guys lived here!"

Shawn laughs. "Yeah, he's smart as hell but he can be pretty damn stupid sometimes. If you want to back out, I guess that's okay. We'll find someone else."

"No! No, it's fine. I'll figure it out. It's no big deal right?" You grab a bag of clothes from your trunk. "You're just three guys. Three guys that happen to look alike."

"Right. We're cool. Can I help?"

You give Shawn a once over, deciding if he's going to break any of your stuff. "Yeah, just grab some bags. Don't open anything, and be careful."

"No problem."

_____________________

It's three days into living with the Mendes boys when you meet Raul. Early on Sunday morning you grabbed your shower bag and made for the bathroom. The door opens as you approach and out walks Raul, towel around his waist, hair pushed back, skin flushed. He's by far the fittest of the three, Shawn being a close second.

"Hey," he grins and he has fangs that are far from a normal human. "You must be the new girl."

"Yeah...you must be Raul."

"Mmhmm." He walks closer and gives you a once over. "You aren't a werewolf?"

"No. Just an average human."

He chuckles. "What's an average human like you doing living with a pack of wolves?"

"Cheap rent?"

Raul adjusts his towel as it begins to slip lower. "Ever lived with wolves before?"

"No."

"Interesting."

You give him a look and start to move past him, really wanting to end this interrogation and shower. He stops you with a hand on your chest and you look up at him. "Yeah?"

"You smell like Shawn."

"I borrowed a pillow from him? I needed an extra one because my neck was killing me. Any more questions? I'd really like to shower some time this morning."

Raul drops his hand from your chest. "Enjoy."

"Thanks." You walk into the bathroom and close the door with a soft click. The whole bathroom smells like whatever body wash Raul used. It's good, fresh. What was his deal anyway? Why the impromptu interrogation?

_____________________

"Can I help?"

You look up from your notes and see Peter at your bedroom door. He's in pajamas again, it seemed like he was always dressed in sleepwear. He's such a soft boy though, the comfy clothes makes sense. "I don't think so. I'm just taking notes for my history presentation on Wednesday."

"Oh. Well, can I come in?"

"Uh, sure?"

Peter sits down beside you on the bed and crosses his legs under him. He grabs some of your loose pages of notes and makes a humming noise. You glance over and he's reading them quietly, shaking his head. "You should take your notes differently."

You stop writing and stare at him. "What? Why?"

"Because, your brain isn't going to absorb as much if you're just writing everything down just like a shopping list." Peter grabs your notebook and scoots closer so he's pressed against your side. "Let me show you."

You watch as he makes groups on the page and starts copying your notes. He divides them by subject, putting your notes about people under one column, places in another and events in another. "That's a good idea."

"Mmhmm." He passes the notebook back to you so you can finish. "It helps me remember for sure."

"What're you going to school for?"

"Astrophysics."

You raise your eyebrows. "Damn."

Peter smiles bashfully. "What? It's just science."

"Space science."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Just science."

You reach out and pick a piece of pink fuzz from your blanket off of his sweatshirt. "I think it's cool."

"Really? I know werewolves usually just like are thought of as fighters and labourers or like athletes, but I want to change that. Even just a little. I want to be the first werewolf to work at NASA."

"You'll do it." You grin and he flushes as he pushes up his glasses. "Dr. Peter Mendes, head astrophysicist for NASA."

"That's the dream." He sighs softly. "One day. How about you?"

"I'm going to be a teacher."

"That's awesome. Little kids or like a professor?"

"Grade school kids. I'm aiming for kindergarten or first graders."

Peter smiles big. "You're gonna be such a good teacher."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if you're patient enough to deal with me and my brothers, kids will probably be a cake walk."

You chuckle. "I suppose so. You guys are good training."

"Glad to be at your service." He says with a salute and you shove him playfully. What a goof.

_____________________

A month into living with the Mendes boys and you almost start to regret it. Individually they're pretty chill. Peter loves to tell you about space and hangout while you do homework. Raul always seems to have a different question for you every few days, infinitely curious about why you want to live with them and borderline suspicious of you, you think. And Shawn, well, Shawn is a sweetheart. He's always making sure you're comfortable and happy and healthy. But when the boys get together, it's madness. Already you've overheard four flights in the last two weeks.

"Raul, clean up your shit your animal!" Shawn yells from the bathroom. This will be the start of a fifth fight. Always over the stupidest thing too.

"What? What'd I do now?" Raul asks, walking toward the bathroom. "What's pissed off Shawnie boy now?"

Shawn glares at him.

"What?" Raul asks angrily.

You walk out of your room and step past the two of them just outside the bathroom. You really need to wash your face before you go to bed. With a history of acne, it's not something you want to skip doing.

"There's a wad of hair in the tub drain, clothes behind the door, shaving remnants in the sink. Come on dude, you're gross."

"Oh big deal." Raul rolls his eyes. "Stop being such a little bitch."

Shawn growls and you look over from the sink. You may have never lived with werewolves, but you have known a few in your lifetime. Growling like that meant a challenge.

Raul growls in return. Just past Shawn's shoulder you can see his face curled up in a snarl, teeth showing and eyes golden. It's pretty terrifying and you don't particularly want to be in the middle of this argument. Hearing them was bad enough and if this was anything like the last one, it is bound to get rough.

"Can you guys take this outside?" You ask quietly, towel drying your face. Maybe there's a chance they will listen to you.

Shawn turns to look at you and you swallow hard. He's just as terrifying as Raul, possibly more so. The tension between the two of them is palpable. Suddenly you're very aware how defenseless you are compared to the likes of them and how you would stand no chance if they started fighting.

"Shawn, stop, she's scared." Raul says, shoving his brothers shoulder, face returning to it's normal features.

"Sorry." Shawn mumbles, face relaxing a well, eyes and teeth going back to normal. "I didn't think about scaring you...I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You mutter, stepping past Shawn to go down the hall. You don't want to stick around in case they start arguing again.

"Look what you did," Raul says angrily.

Shawn growls. "You aren't any better."

A while later Peter comes to your room, slipping in the cracked open door. You aren't asleep. He sits on the end of the bed and shakes your foot.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah?"

"You should be sleeping. Are you awake because of Shawn and Raul?" Peter sighs. "They can be obnoxious, but I promise they won't hurt you."

You sit up. "It's just something I have to get used to. It's alright, I'm not scared now."

Peter leans in and puts his arm around you in a small hug. "I promise I'll try to make them fight less."

"Thank you Peter."

"You're welcome."

_____________________

Walking home from class on a Monday, you see a group of guys standing outside the engineering building. They're four big guys, all probably students, and if you were to guys, they're werewolves. Usually you would pay no mind to anyone but this group seems to be leering at you. Twice a guy with dark hair has made eye contact when you looked up. It makes you uncomfortable.

"Hey! You!"

You don't look over at them, eyes glued to the ground. You won't entertain their calls. They were probably cat calling any girl who went past. You grip your backpack straps tighter and pick up the pace a little.

"Hey!" There are footsteps behind you and your stomach churns. Great. One has followed you. "You're that girl that lives with the Mendes boys."

"Yeah, so?" You keep walking, wishing your keys with your pepper spray were not inside your backpack right now. How could you be so stupid? Just because it's the middle of the day doesn't mean you won't get harassed.

"So do they share you or something?"

You turn around and there is the dark haired guy, about Shawn's height, standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "Fuck you."

"We just wanted to see if we could get in on that." He looks you over and licks his lower lip. "You must be pretty good to please three alphas."

"It's not like that!" You clench your fists. "I just live there, not that it's any of your business."

The guy steps forward and you step back, readying to run. His face falls suddenly and you feel someone's arm around your shoulders. Heat pour out of the body behind you and your heart stops, thinking it's one of this guy's friends.

"Get away from here." It's Raul, and you've never been more relieved. "I said, get away," he growls to the guy in front of you.

The guy steps back and turns away without another word. You turn and Raul wraps his arms around you. You don't need to tell him anything, he knows how scared you are.

"Let's go home." Raul says softly, rubbing your upper back above your backpack. "I'll keep you safe the rest of the way."

_____________________

Just after midnight you hear Raul and Shawn talking loudly in the kitchen, just on the other side of your room. You've been awake for a while, thinking about the group of guys from campus, scared that something may have happened to you if Raul hadn't shown up.

"We've made her a target!" Shawn says angrily.

"Because she smells like us? What does another pack care about her for? She's just a human living with wolves."

"You said there were guys that were trying to take her. If she had been taken..."

"You don't have to say it. We all care about her. I'd kill anyone who lays a hand on her."

Peter speaks up this time. "Me too. We need to keep her safe. Other packs know she's our weakness, they may target her for that."

"Wanna take turns shadowing her?"

"We're going to have to."

_____________________

Shawn stands at the door, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to leave. He offered to drive you to school even though his class doesn't start until noon. You know exactly why after the conversation you overheard.

"What time are you out of classes today?"

"Not until five. Are you going to pick me up?"

Shawn groans and rubs his neck. "No, I'll be at hockey practice. I can see if Raul or Peter can get you?"

"I can walk ho-"

"No, I got it." Peter says softly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I've got a study group until five. Meet me at the library?"

"Sure."

Shawn puts his arm around your shoulders and walks out with you. His warm body heat radiating through his thin hoodie.

"I could drive myself?" You look over at your car. "It's no problem."

"We want to make sure you're safe. Raul told us what happened with those guys and we want to make our presence known around you," Shawn says matter of factly. "You're part of our pack now. We'll take care of you okay? We will just have to stick together until we're sure there is no threat to you."

"O-okay." You take a seat in his Jeep and put your hands between your legs to keep them warm. You haven't been part of a pack before, or even a family really. Your parents didn't do much with you and your brother as kids, and they split when you were in your teens. It feels good, having people care about you.

_____________________

"Hey sweetheart," Raul says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You're on your way out of your math class that you absolutely hate but are required to take at least one semester of a year for your degree. "Hungry?"

"I had a granola bar in class. So, not really?"

"When's your next class start?"

"An hour. I was going to go to the library."

Raul scoffs. "Nope, you're coming with me to get lunch."

"But I don't have any money."

He stares at you blankly. "I'll pay. I'm not going to make you pay for lunch when it's my idea. What am I? An animal?"

"Well..."

"Ah! Don't even go there." He grins and you can't help but crack a smile that turns into a little laugh. He's literally showing off his prominent fangs as he smiles. The irony. "What? Stop laughing."

"No." You push his lip up and he playfully bites your finger in retaliation. "Wolf boy."

Raul bares his teeth and you giggle. He's obviously not serious like he had been while fighting with Shawn the other day. While he looks terrifying, you aren't scared at the moment. Raul drops his facade and stares at you blankly. "You're weird."

"Nuh uh, you're weird. I'm just standing here, you're showing off your fangs to the world."

"And you're giggling at it!"

You raise your eyebrows and tilt your head a bit. "Would you rather I cry? Or run away?"

"N-no." He stammers. It's strange seeing him a little caught off guard like this. "You're like whiplash. One moment you're scared of us, the next you're giggling. I don't understand you."

You grab his hand and he slides his fingers between yours as if it were completely natural. Your heartbeat picks up a bit, not expecting him to do that. "Maybe you should try harder? I am your newest pack mate after all."

Raul narrows his eyes as if he were going to deny that statement, but he doesn't. He won’t. "Whatever, let's go to lunch."

"My choice?"

"No, mine."

"Well that's not fair."

He tugs you along gently, hand still in yours. "Life's not fair. I'm paying, I pick."

"Fine. Jerk."

"You know it, sweetheart.”

_____________________

Shawn's first hockey game of the season is on Saturday and you're all bundled up, ready to sit in the cold arena for a few hours. Shawn had invited you to go on Monday and you couldn't say no. He was so cute about it, giving you his jersey from last year to wear over your hoodie and everything. He even made you some cookies in sort of hockey stick shape. Honestly the world doesn't deserve him.

"You made it!" Shawn says excitedly as he wraps his arms around you. You’re in the hall outside the locker and storage rooms for the ice rink on campus. Hockey is sort of a big deal at your school. "We're just getting ready, do you wanna see the locker rooms?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Okay, okay, yeah locker rooms are kind of gross." Shawn laughs, he almost sounds nervous though you can’t imagine why he would be. First game jitters most likely. "You wore my jersey I see."

"Mmhmm. It's huge even over my sweatshirt." You pull out the silky jersey material from your chest. "I guess that's good though, wouldn’t want it to squeeze me to death or something."

Shawn smiles. "I love it. Did Raul and Peter come with you?"

"Yeah, they're getting snacks at the concessions. You guys eat too much."

"Fast metabolisms." Shawn pats his padded stomach. "Wolves gotta eat baby."

"Yeah, and they eat everything in sight. Speaking of food, I'm making dinner tonight, so you better be home after the game."

Shawn groans in delight. "I get to have you watch me play and I get dinner? Is it my birthday?"

"It's Saturday." You chuckle, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. "I always make dinner on Saturday, the game is just a bonus."

From the locker rooms a few doors down the hallway you can hear the coach yelling for Shawn.

"I gotta go. I promise I'll be home for dinner. I’m riding back with you guys anyway."

"Good."

Shawn turns to go and you grab his hand. He turns back and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "What was that?" He asks, touching the place where your lips had been.

"For good luck.” Your heart races and he squeezes your hand, telling you that he can feel it too. “Go, before the coach hunts you down."

Shawn flushes and clears his throat. "Thanks. I'll meet up with you after?”

"Mmmhmm. Good luck!"

____________________

Your team wins the game, even though Shawn kept gawking at you every couple of minutes. As team captain he really should be paying more attention. There were several shots he should have made with ease had he not been totally distracted. You can’t blame him though, he must be thinking about the cheek kiss. You know you were.

Post game you wait with Peter in the entryway to the ice complex. Peter gave you his jean jacket to keep warm even though you have on a hoodie and shawn’s jersey. Raul went to get Shawn's jeep to pick everyone up out front. Shawn had carpooled with one of the other guys on the team so you and the guys could bring his jeep and everyone could ride comfortably.

Shawn walks out of the doors to the rink and he’s got on his sunglasses and a long sleeve shirt, bag of gear slung over his shoulder. He looks so good, like a professional hockey player coming out to meet fans. He pushes up his sunglasses and smiles, picking up the pace when he sees you and Peter at the doors.

"Did you see that shot I landed from halfway across the ice? It went sailing past their goalie so fast he didn’t stand a chance. I've never done that before." Shawn says excitedly. "I played so well.” He puts his free arm around your shoulders. “I think you're my good luck charm."

"Oh please, I think you were too distracted personally." You say and he raises his eyebrows, leaning back to look down at you. "What? Like I couldn't tell you kept searching for me in the seats? I know you missed that shot that was passed to you because you were looking for me when I moved to get a better view.”

"I just-"

"Shawn! Shawn!" A group of three girls comes running over, giggling and making a lot of noise between them. "You were amazing out there!" “So good!” “I loved the game!”

"Oh, thanks." Shawn says softly, breaking away from you for a moment. "Can I help you ladies?"

"We wanted to see if you were available tonight." One of the girls, a tall blonde, says playfully. "We're hosting a party at our place. Our frat actually."

Shawn looks at the three girls and then over to you and Peter. "I..."

You catch his eye and just sigh, assuming he's not going to be home for dinner now. You were even going to make his favorite, spaghetti and meatballs.

"I have dinner plans."

Your stomach flip flops. He’s going to go home with you and not these girls? Wild.

"Oh...that's lame. You could stop by after. We really want you to come over. You are the captain after all." One girl says with a little pout.

Shawn shakes his head. "I need to rest up." He steps away from the girls and puts his arm around your shoulders. "Thanks for the offer ladies, maybe another time."

Peter looks up from his phone and points to the glass doors. "Raul's here with the car."

"Gotta go," Shawn says, waving and walking you toward the doors.

"You don't have to stay home if you want to go," You say and glance back at the girls who are now talking among themselves. "I can save you some dinner or something."

Shawn presses his nose into your hair as he walks behind you now, arm around your chest. "I promised I'd be home for dinner. I can go to a party whenever. I don't get your spaghetti and meatballs all the time."

"How'd you know I was going to make that?"

"I saw the ingredients on the counter this morning. I realized when you said you were making dinner that was what it was going to be." Shawn opens the back door for you and hot air pours out. Raul's got the heater on high just for you. "I'm staying home."

"Alright, alright." You climb in the back seat and Peter gets in opposite you. He pockets his phone and scoots closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder. You put your hand in his hair and he sighs contently. "Are you guys ready for dinner?"

Shawn throws his gear in the back before getting settled in the passenger seat and they all answer in a chorus of yes as Raul pulls out onto the street. You smile, feeling so at home with them. Being a part of a pack is pretty damn good.

_____________________

It's early on a Sunday morning when Shawn invites you to go out with them. He says they go on a hike once a week, and you know they go out, but you're pretty sure their idea of a hike and yours is quite different. The four of you head out into the woods down the street from your house, they’re pretty thick and have a creek that runs through the trees. Its nice, even though it’s cold.

Once you get just inside the trees Shawn gives you his zip up jacket and they run off into the woods. You barely get a word out in protest before you’re surrounded by three huge wolves. It’s obviously the boys, but you have no idea which one is which, they all look incredibly similar.

The biggest one of the three bumps against you, pressing his side into your back. He noses under your hand and you pet his head. You would guess it's Shawn since he's the biggest of three as a human.

The one with slightly darker fur circles you, head down as he growls lowly. You watch him, eyes narrowed as he jumps away from your outstretched hand. It's Raul. The slight distrust and standoffishness is apparent.

Then there is the second biggest wolf, nearly identical to the biggest wolf, who is sitting patiently, waiting for you to approach. You think it must be Peter, since he is the only one left, but something about him isn't quite right. He nudges into your hand and you rub his ears. "I'm not sure which one is which."

Raul lets out a sharp bark and you turn to look at him.

"I am well aware which one you are, Raul." You say impatiently and he sits down, looking proud of himself. What a show off, even as a wolf.

The biggest wolf joins the other in front of you. They're so similar, right down to the fur color and markings, but one is clearly larger It must be Shawn, has to be. "Shawn?" You ask, pointing to the biggest one.

The big one lowers his head and whimpers. Obviously not.

"Peter? You're so big though. I thought for sure Shawn would be the biggest." The big one rolls over and you drop to your knees, rubbing his side. "You're such a big boy, how’d you get so big?"

Shawn nudges your back and you hold his head.

"Jealous baby." You laugh and Raul jumps on you, pushing you into Peter and Shawn. "Hey! Jerk, you're squishing me!"

Shawn tackles Raul and you lay down in the leaves watching the two wolves tangle a few feet away. Peter lays his head on your lap and you scratch it. They're just the same as wolves as they are as humans. Go figure.

____________________

Raul walks into your room late one night and looks around. You look up from your laptop. You've been slogging away on an English paper that you don't want to write. It’s the most boring thing on the planet and you would rather pull out your own hair one by one. "Can I help you?"

"I need you."

"Okay? For what?"

Raul crosses his arms. "School work."

"Like...tutoring or?"

"No. Just come with me."

You get up and set aside your laptop. Your English paper can wait until later, it's almost done anyway and you need a break. Raul leads you upstairs to his bedroom and you peek around the doorway into the forbidden territory. You’ve never dared set foot in any of the guys’ rooms without being invited. Though they always seem to invite themselves into your room. You suppose your sense of personal space and theirs is probably pretty different considering your upbringings and cultures. "Should I come in?"

"Yeah, door is open isn’t it?"

You walk in and his room smells like vanilla and sandalwood, soft but rich and heady. It’s so very much like Raul. Honestly you didn't know what to expect. A mess? Stinky boy smell? Everything painted black? What you get is none of those things. In fact, Raul's room is more like a mini art studio with a bed and a dresser in the corner. There is a huge canvas drop cloth on the floor and covering two walls. Somehow in the time you have lived with these guys, you never found out Raul painted.

"What are you doing?" You ask, walking around paint spots on the covered floor. "Why do you need me?"

"I need your picture."

"For what?"

"To paint." He says matter of factly as he grabs a camera off his bed. "I want to use the color of your eyes for something because it’s the perfect color and unless you want to stand here while I color match for who knows how long, I just want a photo."

You shake your head. "I think you're missing something here."

"What?"

"The fact that I had no idea you were an artist?" You laugh, gesturing to his work station. "How come you never said anything?"

Raul shrugs. "It wasn't important? Besides...it's not like my major or something. I just take a few classes to help with my art skills for architecture."

“You’re majoring as an architect?”

“Yeah.” He lifts his camera and then lowers it, changing some sort of setting on it you assume.

You walk around and look at the canvases, some half finished, propped against the wall. “Art could be your major.”

“No.”

"Why not? These are good." You grab a canvas with pink roses on it, they’re very detailed and vibrant, almost like looking at a photograph. "I love this."

"Take it."

"But...you don't want it?"

Raul shrugs again. "It's just stupid flowers. Can I take your photo now?"

You tuck the painting up under your arm. "Fine. But only if you show me the finished product you need my eye color for."

"Okay, but only if you don't keep telling me how good my shit is."

"Fine."

Raul lifts the camera and moves in close for a good picture. He changes angles a few times and then pulls back. He looks at the screen and smiles a little bit. "Wow." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Thanks, you can go now I guess."

You roll your eyes. "Good talk," you say sarcastically and leave his room with your new painting in hand. You don't understand Raul. One minute he's a sweetheart, taking you to lunch, holding hands, and the next he acts tough and indifferent. He's hard to read, and even harder to unpack.

_____________________

Something has been bothering you since the night of Shawn’s hockey game. It’s not anything anyone has done per say but more of something that they haven’t done. Since you moved in, now almost three months ago, you’ve never seen any of the guys with a significant other. To your knowledge all three boys are in to girls, but you can’t be sure since you’ve never actually asked. Either way, you’ve never heard them talk about going on a date or talk about being with anyone. What really got you thinking about it was how Shawn turned down the three girls after his game in favor of going home for dinner. Why not go to a party, meet someone, get some action? It’s not a big deal, and it’s really none of your business, but you can’t help but think about it.

Peter stands at the stove, stirring some rice in a pot for dinner. It’s his turn to make it and he’s making baked chicken with rice and broccoli. Sounds pretty plain, but Peter makes it taste really good.

“Can I ask you something?” You say, taking a seat at the dining table at the edge of the kitchen.

“Sure?”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend, or boyfriend, whatever.”

Peter lets out a little laugh. “No lead up, just bam, why are you single? Damn.” He turns off the stove and moves the pot of rice to a cool burner. “If you must know, I’m single because it’s hard for me to connect with someone.”

“But you’re so sweet and smart.”

“Thank you, but it’s not just that.” He takes a seat opposite you and leans his head on his chin. “We wolves tend to try to find people who are committed. We don’t like to play games when it comes to relationships. I also have to find someone who understands and accepts me as a werewolf, and that’s not always as easy as it may seem.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so...”

“You like me though right? We connect?”

Peter flushes, cheeks turning scarlet as he clears his throat. “Of course I like you. As a pack member and my friend. It’s not like...I don’t...not like...y’know. Unless you want that then-”

“Peter.” You start and he freezes, eyes panicked behind his glasses. “I meant as a friend and a pack mate.”

“Y-yes. I like you.”

“Okay, good.” You smile, warmth on your own cheeks. “You should probably check the chicken. The timer has been going off for a minute or so.”

“Shit!” Peter jumps up and you laugh as he scrambles to the oven with a pair of mitts over his hands. He saves the chicken and as soon as its out of the oven, Shawn and Raul appear to get dinner. You laugh to yourself as you watch the three guys argue over whether or not they can start dishing up food. It’s always something in this house.

_____________________

Shawn knocks on your open bedroom door and you look up from your phone. It’s after nine in the evening and you’re about to go to bed. It’s not like Shawn to be up much later than this either. He gets so exhausted from going to class and then hockey practice nearly every day, he just passes out when he gets home.

“What's up?” you ask, muting the tv.

“My tv is broken. Well, my remote is broken. I sort of stepped on it this morning in a hurry to leave.”

“Okay?”

Shawn looks over to your muted TV and then back to you. “Could I...watch my show in here?”

“Why not ask Raul or Peter? Or did they already turn you away?”

“Raul told me to shove it and Peter’s door is locked.” He sighs and hangs his head. “I can just catch it next week. I’ll pick up a remote tomorrow.”

“No, come in.” You pull back the corner of your bedspread and he wastes no time crawling into the bed next to you. You decide to take pity on him. You know what it’s like to miss your favorite show for a week and then not know what anyone is talking about on your social media. “What channel?”

“Thirty six. It’s grey’s anatomy. “

“Ah, gotcha.” You change the channel and Shawn scoots closer, propped against your bed head. “If I fall asleep don’t worry about waking me up okay?

“Mmmhmm.” Shawn grabs the remote and turns up the volume as the opening credits for the show starts to play. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and you owe me.”

He leans over and kisses your temple. “You have my undying love and gratitude.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that get me? What’s the exchange rate on undying love and gratitude?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That seems like a loaded offer for something as simple as letting you watch a TV show.”

Shawn looks away from the tv and you raise your eyebrows. He lowers his voice, talking soft and sincerely. “I’d give you anything. You should know that.”

“Y-yeah. I’ll have to raincheck you on that.” You feel your stomach clench. That was way more loaded then the offer was. The way he’s looking at you...it’s insane. No. You cannot be feeling some kind of way for Shawn. You live together. Its...no. But what if? You bite your lip thinking about a scenario where you do become more than friends with Shawn. You’d let him do just about anything, and he- no. stop. You have to stop. No more.

_____________________

The group of guys from campus appear again. It's been weeks since the run in where Raul saved you. You and the guys all figured it was a one off thing, just some guys being dicks. As soon as you see them, you know something is going on.

You're outside raking leaves in the front yard when the sound of crunching leaves gets your attention and you look up from your pile to see the guys walking into the yard. They just stare at you, saying nothing. Honestly it's creepy and you feel panicked.

"Sh-shawn!" You yell, dropping the rake and running up the porch and into the house. "Shawn!"

Shawn comes running down the stairs, taking two at a time and grabs you, arms around you in a split second. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"There's wolves out there. The group from campus, they're in our yard."

Shawn growls and looks to the open doorway to the front porch. "I didn't smell anything, are you sure?"

You pull Shawn toward the door. "Yes! They're out there right...now." There is no one in the yard. Just your pile of leaves and the rake you dropped. "They were just here."

Shawn looks around, stepping down off the porch and walking around the yard. "I don't smell anything. Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You cross your arms and look around. "They were here. Three of them. It...it was the same guys. They were just here I swear."

Shawn climbs the porch steps and puts his hand on your forehead. He presses his other palm to your cheek. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine Shawn. Those guys were here."

"I just...I'm not catching a scent. They were in the yard right? Did they say anything?"

"N-no they just stood there. I'm not crazy Shawn. I know what I saw."

"Okay, okay." He holds your shoulders. "I'll finish raking, just in case they come back. Just relax alright?"

You lean your head against his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you. "I promise I'm not lying."

"I didn't say you were. Go relax, please. You're very tense."

"Okay. I'll go look at what I want to make for dinner tomorrow and just chill."

"Good girl. I'll be back in shortly."

"Okay...sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for anything."

_____________________

By the end of the day you feel awful. Strange how you started the morning feeling fine doing housework and raking but after you saw the group of guys, you started to feel bad. Shawn insisted he couldn't catch a single scent of anyone outside, and he even took a walk to see if he could pick up a trail of any sort. He came up with nothing.

Things got stranger when Shawn started to feel sick. His head began hurting, body aching and a cough that wouldn't go away. You were having the exact same symptoms, but you're a human and he is a werewolf who shouldn't be getting sick.

"Hey, are you okay?" Peter asks, poking his head into the living room where you're curled up under some blankets beside Shawn. The two of you decided to nap together when you began to get cold and shaky, the room spinning for both of you.

"We're sick."

"We?" Peter asks, walking in and taking in Shawn's sleeping form slumped over beside you. "Shawn's sick too?"

"Yeah. I...I think he is?" You shake your head, brain foggy. "It happened suddenly."

Peter furrows his brow and takes a step toward his brother, laying his hand on his head. "Werewolves don't get common colds or allergies. Did you guys get into something?"

"No?"

"Something isn't right. Did you eat or drink anything weird?"

You shake your head.

Peter takes a seat on the coffee table and you stare at him. He looks puzzled. "Walk me through your day."

"I woke up, had breakfast. I did laundry and cleaned the kitchen. Then I went outside to rake leaves, and after a while I saw a group of guys from campus, the ones who bugged me that day Raul stepped in."

"Wait, they were near the house?"

"In the yard but when I got Shawn he said there was no one there. The guys left or something. Then I went inside and Shawn finished raking and-"

Peter stops you. "Hold on. You say the guys were there, but Shawn didn't see them? Did he smell them?"

"No, no he couldn't find anything. I know I saw them, I swear."

"When did you start feeling bad?"

"After I came inside and calmed down a bit."

"And Shawn?"

"A little while later." You roll your head against the back of the couch. "Why are you asking so many questions Peter?"

"I'm curious." He stands and tugs your blanket off, making Shawn stir awake. "Did you shower or change clothes after you raked? Have you taken any medicine?"

"No?"

"Did Shawn?"

"Probably not?"

Peter sighs. "Where is the leaves you raked? Did Shawn bag them up?"

"Yeah? They're at the curb. Why?"

"I have a feeling something is in the leaves." Peter pulls you up and covers his face with the front of his sweatshirt. "You need to change clothes, shower, and take some allergy medicine. I think you have something on you that's making you sick. Shawn too."

"Something? Leaf dust?"

"No, something like nightshade pollen or leaves. It can make humans have an allergic, or even deadly reaction and hallucinations. It's less worse for werewolves but will numb their senses, even make them ill to an extent." Peter shakes Shawn's shoulder. "Get up Shawn, you need to go shower and take medicine."

"Fuck off." Shawn mumbles.

Peter smacks him upside the head. "Shawn, get up!"

Shawn sits up snarling and shoves Peter over the coffee table. You sink back down into the cushions. You feel horrible, not up to dealing with fighting. Your energy is drained.

Peter growls and tackles Shawn over the back of the couch, both boys go careening over the sofa and onto the hardwood floor. "What are you fighting me for?!"

"You tackled me!"

"I tackled you because you hit me!" Peter hauls Shawn up and you watch in awe as he does so. Peter is big, but not near as muscled as Shawn and Raul, at least you don't think he is. The ease with which he is moving his much larger brother is astounding. "You're poisoned. Go shower and clean yourself up."

"What?" Shawn shoves Peter off of him. "I am not."

"Then tell me how you're sick?" Peter quips. "Hmm? How's a werewolf sick with a fever and cold like symptoms?"

Shawn shrugs.

You peer over the couch at them and they both look at you as you groan, head hurting. "Can you stop arguing for a minute?"

Peter sighs heavily. "I think it’s nightshade, I think you've both inhaled some pollen from the leaves or dried flowers from it."

"Fuck." Shawn says softly. "It made her sick? Is she okay? I should have realized. I'm so stupid."

"Don't worry. She'll be okay, she didn't eat any of the plant. Just get her some medicine and out of those clothes. And take care of yourself too." Peter sighs. "Someone probably planted the dried flowers in the yard as an attack. I'm willing to bet it's that pack that she saw, unless that was a hallucination. I'm not sure."

"But-"

"No one was there right? Your senses would have become dull when you went out if the nightshade was out there. All of us would be vulnerable for who knows how long if she hadn't been the one to clean up most of the leaves. I'm going to go make sure there isn't anything left. Take care of her."

Shawn gets you into the bathroom and you take a quick shower, using just some bar soap to get clean. By the time you're done you feel a lot better. You're still a little stuffed up but the headache has mostly receded and you aren't as tired or dizzy.

You take an allergy pill and get dressed in some pajamas while Shawn showers and you head to the living room. Raul walks in the front door and stops, looking around for something before spotting you.

"What happened? Are you sick?"

"I'm alright. Peter thinks someone put nightshade in the yard."

Raul makes a face. "Did you get hurt? Where's Shawn and Peter now?"

"Showering and upstairs." You pull a blanket around your shoulders.

"They just left you alone?" Raul sinks onto the couch beside you and kicks his boots off. "Are you alright? Can you breathe okay?"

"Mmhmm. Showering helped a lot. I took an allergy pill and some decongestant. I feel better than when Peter found me and Shawn."

Shawn walks into the living room in his pajama pants, hair wet and a mess. He looks so good, like a model from some loungewear magazine. Unreal. "Good you're home Raul. Peter found nightshade in the yard."

"I heard." Raul moves to stand and you grab his hand, feeling the tension radiating off of him. "Why didn't you notice? How come you let her get sick?"

"Whoa what? I was busy feeling sick too, I didn't know what was going on. What am I, a fucking botanist?"

You squeeze Raul's hand and he tries to tug away but you won't let him. If he's holding on to you, he can't start fighting with Shawn. "Rau, sit down. It's not Shawn's fault."

Raul turns sharply and looks at you. "You...don't call me that."

"What? Rau?"

"My mom called me that." He sits down, hand in yours relaxing. "Sorry, I just...it's fine."

Shawn says he's going to get Peter so they can discuss what happened and how to move forward.

You lay your hand on Raul's shoulder and he leans back on the cushions. "I won't call you that if you don't like it. It was just a slip of the tongue."

"It's fine. I just haven't heard it in a long time."

"I don't want to remind you of your mom if you miss her or something. I won't-"

"No, I said it's fine. Mom would have liked you, and...I like you. So I don't mind it."

You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his head on yours. "You like me?"

"Of course I do. A lot. You're my pack."

"Mmmhmm."

"Just...pack." Raul mumbles under his breath softly as he looks up at Shawn and Peter entering the room. There is a lot to decipher about events unfolding around the house, and you know there will probably be some arguments. You pull your blanket around yourself and settle in.

_____________________

Peter walks around the house gathering laundry. You and the boys have a set schedule for who does what chores and makes dinner throughout the week. Wednesday is laundry day for Peter. If he doesn't have enough to preoccupy the washer for the day he will collect everyone else's and do it too.

"Hey, got anything you need washed?" Peter asks from your bedroom doorway, basket propped out on his hip. There's a small tattoo on his inner bicep that you can't recall ever noticing before.

"No, I don't. I tossed all my bath towels and stuff down the chute yesterday." You get up and cross the room to grab one of Shawn's hoodies that is laying on your chair. "I have this, but I don't know if it needs washed. Shawn left it in here the other night."

Peter holds the basket out and you drop it in. "What was he in here for?"

"Watching TV. His remote broke and he needs another one." You shake your head. "I think he stepped on it or something."

"Sounds like Shawn."

"Yeah," you chuckle and touch his arm. "When did you get that?"

"The swallow?" He asks, looking down to the small bird on his arm. "About a year ago."

"I never noticed it. It's nice."

"It's our thing." He smiles. "Shawn's got the one on his hand y'know?"

"Yeah! It is the same huh?"

"Exact same. Raul is getting his this week. He has been trying to decide where to get it forever."

"Oh, that'll be fun. Where did he decide on?"

"Ribcage just under his heart. They're a reminder that we're always going to be each other's home even when we fight and want to wring each other's necks. Because the swallow represents love, family and loyalty."

You smile and nod. "That's sweet. I wish I had something that special."

"You do." Peter runs a hand over his hair. "You're part of this pack."

"While I'm here. One day I'll move out though. Besides, I'm not a wolf, and I'm definitely not blood related."

"You're pack forever. You belong here, with us. We don't just call anyone our packmate. You've left your mark on us as much as we have on you." Peter shift the basket on his hip and pushes his glasses up. "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not. Not anytime soon." You put your hand on his shoulder. "I promise I won't leave you Peter."

"Good." He grins. "Now follow me, I've got a dryer warm sweatshirt for you if you like."

"A man after my heart."

He shows his fangs, nose scrunching up and lip curling as he lets out a growl. "Definitely. I'm gonna eat it up. Don't you know I'm a wolf?"

"It's all yours." You laugh and he laughs too. It was a joke but...it almost felt like it wasn't. You do truly care for Peter. _____________________

"What are you doing after class?" Raul asks as he steals your french fries at lunch. He's taken you to the diner down the street from the campus for a quick bite. The boys won't let you go anywhere alone after the nightshade incident. Peter is working on getting cameras for the house to detect any further attacks.

"Homework."

"Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

"I'm somewhere now?" You swat his hand away from your fries so you can actually eat some.

Raul disregards your swatting and grabs a handful quickly. "I mean somewhere else dipshit."

"Dipshit? How kind of you. Makes me definitely want to go somewhere else with you."

Raul pinches the bridge of his nose and growls. "Sorry, sorry. I...I'm nervous?"

You raise your eyebrows. Raul, admitting he has emotions other than indifference? Shocker. "About what?"

"My tattoo. I'm getting-"

"The swallow right? Peter told me."

"Yeah."

"You're nervous about getting a tattoo? But don't you have others?"

Raul nods and lifts his jacket sleeve up, revealing the sleeve tattoo you knew was there from the first time you met him. It's a silhouetted forest with the moon shining through the trees and it wraps around his whole arm, the sky decorated with swirls of stars and hues of blue and purple. It's beautiful. You wish you saw it more often, or you could just take the time to really study it. It’s like a painting on his body. Beautiful.

"Isn't that way more painful than a simple swallow?"

"Yeah...but...I sort of got really wasted while I had this one done. I wasn't going to survive hours on end of needle work on my arm sober." Raul tugs his sleeve back down and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't want to do that again either. I don't like myself when I'm drunk."

"So you want me to go with you?"

"Mmhmm. Peter and Shawn are gonna go too, but I thought I'd invite you along. They say the rib cage is painful to get tattooed but it's the only place I want the swallow.”

"Aren't werewolves supposed to be really tough?"

Raul gives you a look. "I have feelings. Things do hurt me still. I'm not superhuman."

"Maybe if you showed those feelings more often I wouldn't think you're different."

"Maybe if people didn't turn on me I would."

You frown, eyes meeting his. "I don't know who's hurt you or what they did but I swear not everyone is like that. I like you Raul, somehow, I do. But you gotta open up."

He growls, holding his head in his hands. "It's hard. Just...can we stop talking about this? I don't want therapy. Are you coming with me to get the tattoo or not?"

"Yes."

"Good. Thank you."

_____________________

Going to the tattoo and piercings place turns into a fiasco. Of course Raul has his appointment scheduled to do the swallow, but his brothers seem to have other plans while you're all there. Shawn doesn't surprise you when he starts looking at the tattoo wall, oohing and awing over several very complicated designs. But Peter looking at the piercings does surprise you.

Raul gets set up in his chair, opting for one that's in the main room instead of a private area. The show off. You walk around and look at all the different stuff the shop does. Everything from first time ear piercings for little kids to photos of detailed tattoos the artists on staff have done. There is one photo on the wall you find familiar. It's Raul's arm, his sleeve tattoo. It's beautiful even in the photo.

Peter chats with a staff member nearby and you walk over to see what he's up to. He is standing at a glass case with several piercings demonstrated on foam models in it. "So it's just in and out then?"

"Yes, nose piercing is very quick." The staff member says smiling softly. She's a tiny little woman, but her blue mohawk makes her look bigger. "I don't have any appointments right now, if you wanna get one I'd be happy to help."

Peter looks to you sheepishly. "Should I get one?"

"Why not? But also, why?" You laugh, looking down at the selection of studs in the case.

"I don't know. Raul and Shawn have so many tattoos and piercings...maybe I could too?"

You lay your hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to be like your brothers. Don't feel like you have to do it just to fit in."

"I know." Peter closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Maybe just my ears? Or one ear? I want to be different. I'm just Peter y'know?"

"Yes, you're Peter." You chuckle. "And for what it's worth I like you just how you are. But if you want to get a piercing because you actually would like it, then go for it. Don't do it just because your brothers have."

"I'll think about it." Peter looks over to where Raul is pulling his shirt off. "Raul looks like he's about to get started. He'll want you there."

"He will?"

"Yeah. Trust me, he's going to cry and he's going to want someone who isn't his brother to hold his hand."

You raise your eyebrows. "Raul?That Raul?"

"Yep. Go on. I'll talk to Shawn about the piercing thing."

You wander over toward Raul and take a seat on a rolling stool on his right side. The artists gets his tools ready and preps Raul's rib cage. Hopefully this won't take long.

The moment the needle gun hits Raul's skin he's baring his fangs, eyes changing to a deep gold color. He has one arm up around the head of the slightly reclined chair for a better angle for the artist. With his other arm he grips the soft cushion of the armrest and you worry about the artists safety as time ticks by..

"Raul, hey," you lay your hand on his arm after a few minutes and he tears his eyes away from the ceiling to look at you. "Relax, take a deep breath."

"I can't," he groans. "I can't or he'll mess up."

The artist pulls back and gives Raul a moment to breath. "Take your time," he says cooly.

Raul has tears in his eyes as he says, "Alright I'm ready, go again." He's most definitely not ready because he rips the arm of the chair up and the artist has to stop to assess the damage.

"We'll cover the repair cost." You say quickly and you take Raul's hand in yours.

"Keep going," Raul growls, breathing heavily before the artist goes back in.

"Please don't rip my arm off," you say half jokingly and Raul shakes his head.

Ten minutes of agonizing silence passes. You just keep holding Raul’s hand and he grinds his teeth. "Maybe if we talked it'd go faster?"

"Can't talk much though. Breathing is hard."

"Okay, okay." You wiggle your fingers against his hand, his death grip absolutely killing you. "I'll talk?"

"Sure, or you can...fuck...can you put your hand in my hair?" He lets out a groan as the artist takes a break to let him breath. "I like my hair played with, it's calming. Please?"

You tentatively reach for his hair with your free hand, fingers carding gently through it. His hair is so dark, at least a few shades darker than Peter and Shawn's. It's thick and soft, no product in it today for sure.

Raul barely flinches when the artist starts to work again. He has his eyes closed, hand gripped tight in yours. "Don't stop," he mutters when you pull your fingers out of his hair. He opens his eyes and they're pure golden brown, like rich honey, and he stares at you, eyes half lidded.

"I wasn't going to," you mutter, eyes going to his lips. They're so soft looking, a little pink and puffy from him chewing on them due to nerves. Your heart skips, the thought of kissing him is suddenly so tempting.

"Keep talking."

"Okay. Your eyes are very pretty like this." He smiles, full on smiles like a bashfully shy boy talking to his crush. "You're doing really well."

"Mmm."

"I think you're almost done." You look down at the artist and he's working on the tail of the bird.

"Your eyes are pretty too."

"Oh yeah? You never showed me what you painted with the color of them."

"Not done."

"Ohh. I see, it's a big project then?" You flex your fingers in his hair. "I bet it'll be incredible. I know you said you don't like when I tell you how good your art is, but it is so good. I love the roses, I hung it in my room."

"Thank you." He groans as the artist finishes and pulls away.

You wipe his cheek and he relaxes, lowering his arm from over his head. "I'm glad I could help."

"I thought you two were going to start making out at one point." Shawn says from a seat behind you.

You turn and he's got his head to the side, laying against a reclined chair while the girl with the blue mohawk from earlier is setting up a tray with implements beside him. "You jealous?" You ask jokingly.

"If I was?" Shawn quips.

"Then I guess you'd have to suffer."

Shawn puts his hand over his heart. "You wound me."

"Oh psh."

Peter walks out of a back area and you see him holding a cloth to his face.

"What'd you do Peter?" Raul asks, standing up and gently putting his sweater on.

"Oh shit he did it." Shawn says with a laugh.

Peter gets closer and pulls the cloth away to reveal a black stud in the lower left part of his lip. "What do you think?"

You cover your mouth and let out a giggle. "Its so-"

"Damn Peter." Raul laughs, hand coming down on his brothers shoulder. "Didn't think you had the balls."

Peter shrugs. "I gotta do something crazy some time right?"

"It's nice." You smile, stepping closer and looking at the tiny stud. "I definitely wouldn't have the guts to do it."

"Maybe someday we could get you to get something though," he smiles.

Shawn reaches out for you, flexing his hand. "Hold my hand?"

You take it and he squeezes it while he gets cartilage pierced. You laugh as he groans, grinning into the pain while the employee works quickly to get a stud in. Shawn is such a weirdo. A simple outing turned into such an event. These boys will be the death of you.

_____________________

Leaving the tattoo shop you run into the last people you want to see. It's the group of guys from campus. There are four now instead of three and Raul immediately goes on the defense.

"Hey! You fucks!" Raul snarls and Shawn wraps his arms around you, holding you to the side for safety.

"Can we help you?" The fourth unfamiliar and clearly older member of the group asks.

"Oh don't play coy with me." Raul says as Peter walks out of the shop to your right. "I know you're the ones who have been harassing our girl."

"Excuse me?" The man asks, seemingly genuinely confused.

Peter joins Raul, looking over the guys. He's tense, you can tell by the way he's got his shoulders back and head up. "You're the ones who put nightshade in the yard."

"What?!" The guy asks, looking to his very guilty looking pack mates. "I have no idea what's going on here. Harassment? Nightshade? What are you guys talking about?"

"Why don't you ask those three." Raul points at the younger men of the group, the ones who bothered you. "I'm sure they'll explain."

"Scott...we were just fucking around," one mumbles and the older man turns to look at the three. "We thought...like y'know...she was their toy and we could get in on that."

"The fuck did you just say?" Peter snarls, stepping forward and Raul reaches for him. He shrugs him off and gets in the guy's face.

"Whoa, calm down," Scott says, holding a hand up to Peter. "He's-"

"I said she's your toy. A human like that living with three alphas? Ain't no way she-"

"Peter no!" You yell and he looks back at you, teeth showing, eyes wild. He looks ready to turn on you and your heart sinks. The last thing you see is Peter shifting, his face looks murderous. Raul desperately tries to get between him and the smart mouth with the guy named Scott helping. Shawn turns you away and holds his hands over your ears.

It's over as soon as it started. Raul drags Peter away, quite literally, as Shawn takes you to the jeep. You don’t look back, you don’t even know where Peter and Raul went but Shawn is starting the jeep and leaving the situation. You don’t know what to say. Everything escalated so quickly...and Peter just snapped. You wrap your arms around yourself. Peter was supposed to be your anchor in this crazy pack, the sane one, the one who had a level head. Seeing him go crazy like that so quickly, and feeling like you were his target for a moment...it scares you.

_____________________

Peter and Raul don't come home for hours after the fight. You don't know where they are and you don't ask Shawn. He seems just as tense as you are.

After midnight you hear talking in the hall. You aren't asleep, not even tired. You've been watching movies on your laptop just trying to calm down. The voices are muffled at first but eventually get louder, as if they are approaching your bedroom.

"Leave her alone," Shawn says. "She hasn't come out of her room since we got home. I'm sure she doesn't want to be woken up."

"I need to apologize to her." It's Peter. "She didn't need to see that."

"Maybe you can talk in the morning. Right now is not the best time."

The handle on your door jiggles and your heart races. There's a thump and loud growling. You grip your comforter, not ready to deal with another fight, not ready to see Peter.

"Shawn, I can't wait. She needs to know that I didn't mean to scare her. I just...I wanted to protect her."

"She wasn't in danger. We were all there with her. You let your feelings get in the way and it backfired!"

More growling, this time from Peter you assume. "Like you haven't been dealing with that too."

"This isn't about me. You have to let her do this on her terms. You fucked up. I understand that you need to say you're sorry but just...give her space."

Silence follows Shawn's words. There was so much to unpack in that short conversation. Feelings? Peter has feelings for you? And Shawn too? You close your laptop and scoot down into your blankets, turning and curling into your pillow. You don't know what to make of anything right now.

_____________________

Two days you avoid Peter, you avoid all the boys honestly. You get up, shower, go to class and come home. You don't stop and talk to Shawn while he makes breakfast. You don't yell at Raul for leaving his crap all over the bathroom. Nothing.

You're contemplating moving. The idea came to you the second night. Maybe if you weren't around things would be better. Maybe you don't belong with three wolves.

On the third day you get home from school and shortly after closing and locking your door, something you've never really done before now, there is a knock. You're not even changed out of your sweater and jeans when the familiar soft knock knock knock gets your attention. There is no doubt that it's Peter.

"I know you're home." It's definitely Peter.

You don't answer.

"I heard you come in. I know you're still...unhappy with me. I just- I wanted to talk to you."

You go about changing, not ready to see him. You know he's going to look rough. You had seen Raul before class yesterday and he looked like he'd got the shit beaten out of him. You have no idea if it was from trying to get Peter off the guy in the fight or if it was from pulling Peter away. Either way you know Peter can't be unscathed.

"Please..." You hear his head hit the door with a soft thump. "I need to see you. I don't want you to leave."

Your stomach hurts. How did he know you were thinking of leaving.

"I fucked up." You hear him moving, and suddenly his voice comes from lower, as if he's sitting against the door. "I looked at you like you were the problem, and you're not. I lost myself and I don't know how to explain it. I think, everything was just building and building. That guy set me over the edge when he said...when he marginalized you as a toy. It made me sick."

You cross the room and stand in front of the door.

"I care for you so much, you're my best friend in this world right now and I know that's saying a lot, and I'm probably too emotional, but you are. You've changed my life, our lives, since you moved in. I don't want to be the reason you leave. I don't want this fuck up to be the reason we lose you."

You wipe your eyes, tears streaming out upon their own accord. It's time. You can't let him go on without seeing him. It'd just be cruel. You turn the door handle and the lock clicks open.

Peter looks up at you, eyes wet as well. He's got bruising across his eyebrow and his lip piercing looks swollen. "Do you hate me?" He asks, voice cracking as he fights back more tears. "I understand if you do."

"No." You whisper, stepping closer. "Peter I don't hate you. I'm not sure I could ever do that."

He stands, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for attacking that guy and I'm sorry I scared you." He quickly wipes his eyes before resuming crossed arms. "I don't know what came over me. I-I freaked out and I shouldn't have."

"It was terrifying. I thought you were going to come after me."

"I know. I know I'm so sorry." He is visibly shaking. "Like I said, I had a lot of pent up emotions and it was the last straw. I shouldn't have let things get so bad. I don't...I don't like not being close with you."

You lay your hand on his chest and his heart is going wild. "I miss you too." You unfold his arms and slide yours around him. "Come on. I think it's been long enough. I can't not talk to you any longer."

Peter wraps his arms around you in a bear hug, squeezing you flush against him. "Thank you." He breaks down, gripping you tight and you just let him get it all out. It's what he needs. It's what you need.

_____________________

The alpha, Scott, from the group of guys who harassed you showed up with an apology on behalf of his pack mates. He said he had no idea what was going on, and that he won't stand for what they did. He even brought a gift card for you as if that would make things better. It doesn't change the fact that his pack did what they did. But it's a good attempt at making amends.

You and Shawn went out and got snacks for a movie night with the card. All of you decided that you just needed some quality time together as a pack. Things had been so hectic lately you all need to relax.

So now you're together on the sofa, watching a movie called Love Rosie. The guys let you pick the movie, much to their dismay and audible groaning. They all seem to be actually enjoying it though, they haven't fallen asleep...yet.

Raul puts his feet up on your legs on the ottoman and you glare at him. But he smiles, so cute and innocently, you can't help but let it slide. He snuggles down into the cushions, one of your blankets wrapped around him. He looks so soft compared to his usual indifferent demeanor. It's a small show of affection but one you will gladly take.

Shawn sits beside you, cuddled up against you, hand in yours. He's sharing his blanket, keeping you nice and warm. He claimed the spot before anyone else even sat down. You know he wanted you to sit on his other side so he could have you all to himself but Peter wasn't having that.

Peter. He is on your left side, slumped down, nearly asleep from a long day of taking tests. He's trying his best to stay awake for you, to watch the movie you picked. His head slips off your shoulder, and he ends up situating himself with his head on your lap and his legs over Raul's lap.

You put your free hand in Peter's hair and he lets out a soft growl of content. You smile to yourself, happy to be loved. These boys have stolen your heart and they know it.

-Choose Your Ending: In order, Shawn, Raul, Peter.-

__________Shawn’s Ending____________

Shawn has a game against the college's long time rivals, the Cavaliers. He's nervous, been pacing the house all day. It's easily the biggest game of the season. You've been trying to get him out of his head all day, telling him it's just a game, that his team is incredible. You know he's stressed because he's the captain. It's on his shoulders to lead his team to victory.

"Do you wanna go somewhere with me?" Shawn asks around noon after hours upon hours of fretting.

"Like where?" You ask, curious to see what he has in mind. Anything would be better than his pacing.

"The diner. I uh...I used to have this tradition of going for milkshakes before games when I was in the local league as a kid." Shawn rubs his neck. "I stopped a few years back because I started getting into working out and it didn't fit in with my diet and...it's a stupid reason really. Anyway. Will you go with me?"

"Sure." You push your laptop off your legs and get up to grab your shoes. "Are you paying? I don't have a ton extra this month and-"

"I got it." He offers his hand and you take it to balance yourself as you pull your boots on. "It'd be rude to make you pay when I invited you out."

"Well, you'd be surprised. Some guys are real jerks about that."

Shawn wraps his arm around your shoulders. "Some guys are dicks. Well, most guys, but you probably know that. I try no to be a dick."

"You aren't Shawn, no worries. Let's go, I could use a chocolate shake and some fries."

___________________

At the diner you and Shawn sit in the far corner booth away from everyone else. It's a little drafty due to the old windows but it's fine. Shawn notices you shivering despite your sweatshirt and peels off his hoodie for you, passing it over the table.

"Thanks." You put it on and it smells like fresh laundry and his cologne. It's the best combination of floral linen scented detergent and heady rich sandalwood. You aren't sure if he's gonna get this thing back later.

"Oh man, they have a cinnamon roll shake for the holidays." Shawn points to the menu where it's listed. "I have to get it. Are you getting chocolate? Because we could share?"

"Yeah, and fries. I like to dip the fries into the shake."

"You're a freak."

"Me? Take a look in the mirror Captain Canine."

Shawn's jaw drops and you smirk. "You’re ice cold. That is such a low blow."

"I'm teasing, I figured you could handle it." You reach across the table and poke his chest. "A big wolf like you, you could take a few jabs to the ego."

He chuckles and pushes you hand away. "Mmm and I can serve them just as good."

"Oh? Dish it up then."

He shakes his head. "I won't do that to you. I care about you too much to insult you mindlessly. I will draw the line at fries in a shake though. Inexcusably freakish."

"Don't knock it until you try it."

The waitress comes over and takes your orders, giving Shawn a few looks that make you feel a little uncomfortable, like she’s sizing him up to prey upon later. She walks away with a hairflip, a giggle and a very unnecessary squeeze of Shawn's shoulder. You watch her like a hawk as she disappears into the kitchen.

"You alright?" Shawn asks, hand waving in front of you.

"Yeah. Just...thinking." You turn your gaze to him and he leans his head on his chin, a single floppy curl hanging down between his eyes. He's due for a trim, he's starting to look more like Peter with that mop of hair. "You need a haircut."

"Uh uh. I wanna grow it out." He runs a hand through it and pulls it all the way up between his fingertips. "I want a sweet man bun."

"Oh no, Shawn no."

"Yes! Come on. I'd look so hot." He gathers his hair and twists it up into a tiny pouf between his fingers. "You love it."

"I do not. You look like a doofus. The headband for working out is ridiculous enough."

"Awww you're not nice. I love my headband."

You roll your eyes and he laughs. "Whatever you wanna do I guess."

"I'll cut it. I promise. It's getting in my eyes. I can't wear the headband under my helmet anyway, it's not comfortable. Maybe tomorrow I'll make an appointment. Anyway, what were you staring at the waitress for?"

"Nothing."

"It was not nothing. Are you jealous she was flirting with me?"

You roll your eyes but you don't deny it. You are definitely jealous.

"You are." Shawn coos teasingly. "It's alright, I get jealous too sometimes."

"Of what?"

"You." He chews his lip and before you can ask him why the waitress returns with your orders.

You smile at her and ask for two extra straws, clearly stating you'll be sharing both milkshakes together. Shawn reaches across the table and threads his fingers between yours. He smiles at the waitress and then you. The waitress looks down and she seems to take the hint that her flirting is not welcome.

You don't want to jump back into the jealousy conversation afraid that you might be wrong about Shawn's intentions. He doesn't seem to be playing games and he obviously had no problem showing the waitress he wasn't interested. But still...the lingering fear of rejection remains.

"So, are you still worried about the game?"

Shawn sips his shake and nods. "Always. Nerves means you care. If I wasn't fretting about it I'd be too cocky and that's not how you win games. I've got nerves, but they're good nerves."

"Well, I'm glad we could do something to help." You dip your fries into your chocolate. "Wanna try?"

"Gross. Sure." Shawn says as he opens his mouth and closes his eyes. "Do I have to finish it?"

"Yes." You giggle and pop the two fries in his mouth. "Enjoy it."

"It's weird."

"Says the guy who must drink milk when we have spaghetti."

"Okay, that's a real thing though!" He covers his mouth and swallows. "I am not the only one."

"Fries in shakes is a thing too. Ever heard of Wendy's frosties and fries? It's a thing there."

Shawn rolls his eyes and you steal his shake in retaliation. He tries to get it back but you start sucking it down. "Hey! That's- alright then!" He steals your fry basket and starts eating them quickly like a crazed man.

You end up snorting while laughing causing milkshake comes out of your nose, in turn making him laugh as well and gag on the fries. The two of you break out laughing so hard you're crying. You don't care if people stare at you for making noise. Shawn's smile, his eyes, his laugh, everything in that moment radiates pure love. Maybe you're not wrong about how he feels. Maybe...maybe you should let him know how you feel.

____________________

You've done all you can to get Shawn to shake the nerves and before you part ways at the entrance to the ice rink, you give him a hug. He's got all his gear in a bag over his shoulder and he drops it in favor of holding you tight.

"You're gonna do great." You say, face smushed into his chest. "I promise you're gonna beat them. I'm your good luck charm remember?"

"Yeah," he laughs, pressing his nose into your hair. "I've won every game you have come to."

"Mmmhmm. And you'll win this one."

"I hope so." Shawn pulls back and smiles down at you. "I'll try not to look for you so much."

"You better not. I'll stay in the same spot."

"Actually," Shawn drops down on one knee and digs in his gear bag. "Here." He pulls out a jersey and hands it to you. "I can find you with this on."

"Don't you have to wear this?" You ask, taking the lump of fabric. You hold it up, turning it over to see MENDES printed on the back.

"It's my practice jersey. I know I gave you one for my first game but that one didn't have my name on it."

You grin, pulling it on over your sweater. "How's it fit?"

Shawn steps forward and bites his lip. "Looks good. Turn?" You do as he asks and he runs his hand over the name on the back. "Looks real good on you."

"Yeah? Feels kinda big."

"I meant the name."

"Oh." Your heart skips before going into overdrive, realizing he is flirting.

Shawn moves back around to face you and he's pink cheeked. "I have to go."

"Good luck." You lean forward to kiss his cheek and he cups your jaw as you pull away. For a moment your eyes meet and he looks like he's about to return the kiss. "Shawn?"

"Yeah?"

"You gotta go."

He guides your head up as he leans down to kiss your forehead. "I know." He pulls back and grabs his bag. "Oh, one more thing, earlier at the diner I wanted to ask you because I wasn't sure but...was that a date?"

"Do you want it to be a date?"

A little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he looks just a bit more pink in the cheeks. "Would it be okay if I did?"

"Yes." You smile, looking down at his jersey on your chest. "Go, we can discuss this later."

Shawn groans and looks to the locker room doors and back at you, as if torn between playing the game or spilling his heart out more. "But-"

"Go!" You laugh and shoo him away. "We have forever to talk, but the game is now."

"Alright alright." He turns and heads for the locker rooms, glancing back only once and you give him a stern look that makes him chuckle.

Your stomach is doing backflips and the second he's out of sight you let out a little jump of excitement. He is interested. He is. You aren't wrong. You grip the front of his jersey and take a deep breath before heading into the seating area.

______________________

The game is incredible. It's a hard back and forth between the two teams. It comes down to the wire, the last shot being scored by Shawn with only six seconds left on the clock. The arena's cheers were deafening, everyone screaming and shouting for the team and Shawn. You're so proud of him, and when he looks for you in the crowd, you can only smile at him until your face hurts.

In the hall post game you wait, back against the cold bricks while Shawn and the team get undressed and ready to face the fans milling around in the hall surrounding you. Tonight is going to be a massive party, you already know of several going on. No doubt Shawn will want to go to some. You're just waiting to see him off, talk to him a little about earlier and tell him how amazing he played.

Two girls approach you, it's two of the ones from his first game that he declined invites from. They don't look too friendly.

"So, are you like Shawn's sister or something?" The taller one, a blonde, asks rudely.

"No. I live with him. We're housemates."

"Right...so did he give you that jersey?"

You look down at his huge jersey over your sweater. "Yes? I'm wearing it to support him and the team? What about it?"

The blonde rolls her eyes. "We figured you were dating him because usually the guys give their jerseys to their girlfriends. No idea why a girl like you would catch his eye though."

"It's none of your business if Shawn and I are dating, but thanks for that unwanted input."

"You-"

"Hey," Shawn's voice comes from behind the girls and they turn around, giggling over him. He's got on a fresh pair of clothes and his hair is damp from the showers. "You ready?"

"Y-yeah." You clear your throat and push down the angry tears that are threatening to bubble out from the rude girl. It's not that you want to cry, it's just that when you get angry it happens.

Shawn wraps his arm around you and walks you away while ignoring the other girls as they begin to attempt to talk to him. "Are you sure? You seem upset."

"I'm fine." You touch his jaw that's got a bruise starting on it, inspecting his soft skin. "You played amazing. I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Shawn stops just outside the exit doors. He smiles and presses his cheek into your hand a bit. He leans down close and suddenly it feels very intimate. "I couldn't have done it without you." His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up. "You're my good luck charm after all."

"Yeah."

"Earlier today...were you flirting with me?" He whispers softly, head ducked close to you.

"Yeah, a little."

"If you're up for it...I'd like to see where this goes."

Your heart races and he grins big. "I'd like that."

"Good." He leans in, nose touching yours. "Can I?"

Your voice is barely a whisper but you manage a clear, "Yes."

"You're sure?"

You ball your fists in his shirt and nod just a little bit. With that he presses his lips to yours. He's soft, lips warm and plush. Your eyes fall closed and you can hear people shuffling out the door nearby. Shawn smiles, teeth pressing against your lips.

"I've been wanting to do that forever."

You open your eyes and they meet his, pure golden brown. "Me too."

Raul and Peter pull up in Shawn's Jeep and honk at the two of you. Shawn let's out a snarl, baring his teeth at his brothers for rushing him.

"Let's go! Parties are waiting!" Raul yells from the passenger side window.

Shawn lets out a soft growl, focusing on you instead of his brother. "Can I do it again?"

"Please?" You giggle and he leans in, kissing you and smiling against your lips. "Let's go."

"Mmm, I can’t wait to show off my girl who helped me win the game tonight." Shawn says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and heading to the Jeep.

"’Bout time," Peter laughs as you crawl in the back seat with Shawn in tow.

Raul looks back and smiles, shaking his head. "Hey gave you his actual jersey? Shit, he's serious."

"Damn right." Shawn growls, tugging you in and pressing his nose to your hair. You wrap your arm around his and he grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles. You smile, not able to hold it back. You couldn't be happier.

End

__________Raul’s Ending___________

Finding yourself three drinks down at a party is unlike you. You rarely drink and when you do it's usually in a much more controlled environment, aka, your own bedroom at home. You aren't sure why you took the first drink from the host, a girl named Amy who invited you and the boys after Shawn's game. Maybe you wanted to relax. Maybe you wanted to escape the stress of school and finals. Maybe, just maybe you want to escape the feelings you're having towards the guys. It's been a wild ride the last few weeks and so many mixed signals have been thrown around you aren't sure what's what.

By the second drink you were feeling loose. Warm in your tummy and throughout your veins. You started dancing, moving with the crowd in the living room. It felt good, free.

After your third drink, something super sweet and heavily liquored, you find yourself crashing. Probably the sugar, or alcohol, or maybe you're just exhausted from dancing. You find yourself now, collapsed on a couch watching people around you get increasingly more rowdy. You haven't seen Shawn or Raul in ages it seems. Peter came by you not too long ago to get some water in the kitchen but you didn’t say anything to him. Suddenly you feel panicked, alone, scared and drunk around a bunch of strangers.

You catch a glimpse of Raul near the stairs. You're not sure how you know it's him, you just do. "Raul." Your voice sounds horrible and you've got some burning in your throat. "Raul!"

Raul turns and spots you on the couch. He walks over and sinks down beside you. "You called?"

"I need you."

"Oh?"

You stare at him with half lidded eyes, everything a little blurry. He looks flushed, hair a mess from running his hands through it too much. A bad habit of his. "I was scared. I realized I don't know anybody."

Raul takes your hand. "I'm here."

You smile weakly. "Can we go somewhere quiet?"

"It is too loud, huh?" He pushes himself up and grabs your hands, pulling you up into his chest. He wraps his arms around you. "Wanna go outside?"

"But it's cold?"

"Not on the porch, there are heaters. Come on." Raul walks you to the screen door to the porch. Sure enough it's warms like he said. There is a heat lamp in the corner emitting waves of warmth across the screened in porch. There is no one out there surprisingly. "Take a seat," he says, plopping down on a cushioned bench.

As you move to sit down he stops you, hand on your back. "What? Something wrong?"

"Sit here." He pats his lap and you give him a wary look, unsure of the implications it may bring. "I said sit."

You waste no time and plop down across his legs. He runs a hand up your back, his other finding your jaw and gently turning your face towards him. "Your fangs are out," you giggle, touching his lower lip.

He grins lazily, showing off the prominent teeth in question. "Drinking makes it hard to control my features." He twists a bit of your hair around his fingers and tugs a little. "I don't usually drink, I don't like how I get."

"Me neither." You cup his jaw, thumb sliding over the dark dusting of stubble there and he leans into your hand, playfully biting at your palm. "You're so gorgeous."

His eyes slowly turn a rich dark honey color. You know egging him on like this is risky in his loose state, but you can't help yourself. He looks so good and so...wild. "Is this why you wanted to go somewhere quiet?" He asks, pulling his cheek away from your hand.

"Hmm?" You slide your hand into his hair instead. "Is what why?"

"This," he presses his head against your hand. "The petting."

"Petting?" You giggle, now toying with him. You run your fingers through his short messy loose curls. "I didn't know I was petting you."

He growls, eyes rolling back as you scratch along his scalp. "Stop."

"Make me." You grip his hair and tug as he grabs your leg harshly.

"You wanna play games?" He asks roughly, voice wrecked with lust as he opens his eyes and meets yours. "You shouldn't do this with me."

"I can't resist." You tug his hair again, eliciting a loud groan before you slide off his lap. You step back and he stands, body language tense. "Will you play a game with me then?"

"No."

You bite your lip and he gives you a look. "So if I run and hide, you won't chase me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Oh?" You step back toward the open screen door. "Well I guess I'll just..." You take off into the house and you can hear Raul behind you. Your heart races, pounding hard in your chest as you push through groups of people. You get to the stairs and take them two at a time as you run up them to escape him. It's no good, you’re too slow and stumbly in your tipsy state, he's right behind you. You dodge into a bedroom and that's the end. You feel him before you see him, his warmth along your back as he corners you, hands on your waist.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" He asks, mouth on your neck. "You're gonna make me hunt you down if I want you?"

"You like it."

Raul growls and sinks his teeth into the back of your neck. It sends a thrill followed by an ache through your body. Something about the way bites like you're his, it makes you weak. "Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to bite you, to chase you down and punish you for pulling my hair?"

"I'm not going to say no to that."

Raul pulls back and you turn around. He looks absolutely out of his mind. His teeth are showing, eyes fully changed. He looks borderline terrifying but you like it. You never thought you would but seeing him like this is doing something for you. You want that wild side of him. It’s so much different than anyone else you’ve ever been with.

"You should go." Raul says, looking down.

"Why? We were just messing around. It’s just for fun and-"

"I can't hurt you. I can't get involved right now. Not like this." He steps away toward the door. "I'm sorry."

Just like that you're alone. It hurts. You thought things were going well, that you were playing with him and he was playing back. You thought maybe for once you had fully broken down that wall he keeps building around himself. You wish you could fight it, you wish you could stop feeling something for him everytime you see him. It's like two steps forward and three steps back. Just when you think you have a good chance, he pulls away. You need to talk to him, sober and in a good mood, you have to lay it all out and serve your heart up on a silver platter. Either he'll reject you or he'll feel the same and you'll have made the best decision of your entire life. You know deep down that he's a good guy, that he has a heart of gold and he cares about you. It's just a matter of getting to it.

___________________

The day after the party you wake up and you’re hungover. You feel like shit and everything just feels off. You suspect it’s probably the four shots you had after Raul ghosted you. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep you got. Either way, something feels heavier about the world today and it’s not just because you’re hungover. You make your way downstairs for some food around ten, having laid in bed and watched some videos about how crayons and cookie cutters are made just because it caught your attention and numbed your mind for a while.

The house is oddly quiet for a Saturday morning. Usually Shawn is awake and running around like a mad man getting ready to go to practice, but since the game was on a Friday that isn’t happening. Shawn doesn’t even seem to be home judging by the lack of his Jeep in the driveway. You pass Peter’s room on the way downstairs and it’s open. He is nowhere in sight for either.

When you enter the kitchen you find Raul sitting at the table sketching something. He stops when you walk in and then resumes momentarily as if to finish something. He’s not the first person you want to talk to after last night.

"You feeling okay?" He asks, looking up once more, eyes sweeping over your no doubt disheveled pajamas.

"Kinda hungover."

"Oh."

"I'm just not feeling right.”

Raul stands and grabs you a mug for coffee while you dig through the fridge for whatever you can find to snack on. He’s quiet for a moment while he sets up the single cup brewer and you’re afraid that the awkwardness of last night is getting to him.

Finally he says something. "I know painting always helps me when I'm in a mood. I just grab some colors and do whatever I feel. Sometimes it's something like roses and other still life, but other times it's just a hand full of paint and I go apeshit on a canvas."

"That actually sounds kind of fun."

"Here." He hands you a cup of freshly brewed coffee and two sugar packets, the way you like it. "Wanna try it out?"

“Sure.” You cradle the mug in your hands and take a sip. A perfect dark roast. That single cup brewer was the best thing Raul ever bought for the house. “Why not?

Raul leads you upstairs and hands you an old shirt of his that is covered in paint spots. He goes to grab his paint, a huge caddy of different tubes in varying shades. He sets the paint down and grabs the tin cup of brushes for you too. “Okay, so just do whatever you want.”

“Hmm.” You set your mug down on his dresser and look at the two blank canvases he has against the wall. One is quite large, probably kind of expensive. You don’t want to go for that one in case he’s planning on using it for something. The other canvas is good sized, probably half your height. “You’re sure?” you ask, turning and facing Raul. “I can use one of these?”

“Yeah, go for it. I’d love to have an original by you.”

“What if it’s ugly?”

“It’s never ugly if you truly love it.” Raul smiles and you turn back to the canvases. “Go on, don’t be scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You grab a tube of blue paint and a brush. There is a small pallet that looks like one Raul used recently, it’s not been cleaned off yet and the paint is dried on. You grab it and squeeze some paint onto it. “I don’t know what to do.”

Raul walks up behind you and brackets your body with his own, hands coming around your wrists. He guides your hand with the brush into the paint and then to the canvas. “Just...like this.” He guides your brush down and then up and to the side. He pauses, mid stroke and you before you can ask what is wrong he mumbles a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You look back at him and he tugs down the back of the neck of your shirt.

“Your skin is bruised from when I bit you.”

“Oh.” You reach back and try to feel for anything out of the ordinary. “It doesn’t hurt. I think it must just be broken blood vessels.”

Raul holds your shoulders and leans into kiss your neck. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt. It’s just a mark.”

He makes a noise of protest but doesn’t say anything.

You dip your brush back into the paint and touch it to the canvas. “I’m not making anything. Shouldn’t I painting be like...purposefully?” You ask, attempting to change the subject back to painting.

“It is purposeful.” He steps back and you paint on a few more nonsensical blue lines. “What do you feel?”

“Confused.”

“No, like deep down. You said you weren’t feeling the best today. Show me.” Raul places the paint caddy closer. “Show me, and don’t tell me.”

You look to him and he has his arms crossed, watching you intently. It’s a little intimidating. You grab black from the bucket and squeeze a dollop on to the pallet. The brush streaks the black along as you paint a little curl. Everything feels too formal. It feels like you’re trying too hard to make something good. That isn’t the point. You drop the brush and stick your hand in the paint on the pallet, palm half blue and half black. You smear it down the center of the spots you painted with the brush. It feels good.

“There you go.”

You grab red, purple and the black again. You squeeze the paint directly on your hand and press it to the white bits of canvas over and over until the paint is mostly off your hand. The whole thing is a mess. A smile spreads across your face and you can’t stop it. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation is too fun and it’s really helping you ease the tension from last night. “Raul, I need your hand.”

“Mine?” He steps closer and holds his hand out palm up for you. “What for?”

“Art.” You put some purple on his palm and spread it around with your fingertips until it’s covered. “Put yours on there.”

Raul presses his purple hand to the canvas and pulls away, leaving a big print. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yeah.” You mix some purple and blue in your hand for a darker blue and you make a bunch of hand prints around Raul’s. Minutes pass and you just keep adding more and more paint, destroying some hand prints and making others. You always leave Raul’s perfectly intact. It’s the centerpiece, the reason for your painting. “I think I’m done.” You say after there is no white canvas left. “I feel better.”

“Good. It looks great.” Raul pulls you back by your shoulders and you take a few steps back with him. “I love it."

"It's like a kindergarten project."

"No. It's art. It's your expressive piece, don't be negative because it's not some big complicated detailed painting." Raul moves around you and grabs a brush. "You have to sign it."

You push the brush away and grab the white paint. You look to Raul as you cover your hand. He's smiling, a look of pure joy on his face. Your heart skips as he moves closer, hand outstretched.

"You've got some hair in your face. Can I?"

"Please."

Raul brushes your hair back and cups your cheek. His other hand, the one with the purple paint rests on your neck, thumb over your pulse point. There is no doubt he can feel your heart pounding. "Your eyes are beautiful."

"They are?"

"Mmhmm." He stares, eyes heavy lidded and you can't help but try to look away. "They're my favorite color.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Hey, look at me." He says softly and you do. "Don't be embarrassed."

"I-I'm not....and if you love my eye color so much why have you never showed me what you painted with it?"

"I'll show you. I promise." Raul slides his hand from your cheek into your hair. His eyes leave yours for just a moment to look to your lips. They feel dry and you're suddenly very aware of that so you lick them just as he looks. You're sure it is sending a very suggestive message, one you aren’t going to revoke. "Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes."

He leans in and you bring your hand up to lay on his chest. His heart is beating just a wildly as yours is. You're sure he's a nervous wreck under his cool exterior. You smile, chuckling a little and making him pull back just enough to keep his lips against yours.

"What?" He whispers, eyes meeting yours. "What's so funny?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Mmhmm. I knew you were a softie underneath it all." You bump his nose with yours and he pretends to curl his lip up at you. "I guess you're not as wild as you appear."

Raul adjusts the hand on your throat, pressing a bit and your mouth falls open just a little. "I'm as wild as I need to be, and you love it."

"I do." You murmur and he kisses you again, teeth sinking into your lip carefully as he tilts your head up for a deeper kiss. You lean into him, moaning a little as he licks into your mouth. He kisses like no one else you've been with before and you love it.

Raul pulls away. He smirks, eyes now on your neck. "Oops."

"What?" You reach up and touch your skin where his hand had been. There are remnants of purple on your fingertips. "Is there a handprint on my neck?"

He nods, biting his lip. "Sure is."

You point to his shirt where you laid your hand. There's a white hand print right over his heart. "You got a little something there too."

Raul looks down and pulls his shirt out. "Oh, looks like you left your mark on me."

"I guess we're even now for my neck."

"Mmm, but I plan on leaving a lot more marks on you." He steps forward and you stop him with your hand. “If you’ll let me.”

"Easy. I have to finish my painting." You look over and he does too. "And you have a painting to show me."

“I’ll go grab it.” Rauls says and turns to go out of his room.

You cover your hand in white paint again and press it to his purple hand print on the canvas. It’s smaller and you smile as you pull away. It’s a mess, a huge mess of colors and chaos but in the center of it all is those hand prints. It’s kind of a perfect metaphor for you and Raul.

“Hey, have you seen-”

You turn and see Peter standing in the doorway to Raul’s room with Shawn behind him. “Have I seen what?”

Shawn pulls Peter back by his shoulder and laughs. “Nothing, we were just looking for you. Wanted to make sure you got home okay last night.”

“Looks like you did,” Peter says and points to his neck. “You got a little...uh...paint on your neck right here.”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yeah, it’s Raul’s fault.”

“Oh. Because it looks like a hand...print.” Peter says softly as he realizes that it wasn’t an accident and a handprint like that means...well....could mean a more intimate situation. “We’ll be going.”

Raul pushes in to the room past the other two and he’s holding a canvas. “What do you guys want?”

“Nothing.” Shawn says, grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed. “We were just checking up on you guys.”

“We’re good, thanks guys.” Raul says with a chuckle, looking to you and holding up the painting. “Here...it is.” He walks toward you and stops, looking at your little white hand in his on the canvas. “You signed it.”

“I did.”

Raul hands you a small canvas and you take it with your clean hand. It’s a painting of you and all three boys, like a family portrait. It’s like staring at a photograph it’s so perfect. “I was going to give it to you for the holidays.” He says and you turn it over to see he’s signed the back. Below his name is the words, Welcome To The Pack. “But I promised I’d show it to you when it was done.”

“I love it.” You set it down and pull him close. “Thank you.”

He cups your face and kisses you gently. “No, thank you. I don’t know where I'd be if you hadn’t moved in. I can't imagine not falling for you and finding the softer side of myself again. I...I adore you.”

“I adore you too Raul.” You press your forehead to his and he closes his eyes. “I adore you too.”

End

__________Peter’s Ending____________

To say you fell in love with Peter when you met him would be an understatement. You think that in all that has happened in your time since moving in, you've always known. Peter is easy to love. He's gentle, soft, always up for talking or sleeping together. You and him have had an unexplainable closeness since day one.

So the day that Peter comes to your room and asks you what you're doing on Saturday night, you aren't surprised. You've been waiting for him to ask you out. You know he's discussed it with Shawn and Raul, and they both know that he has it as bad for you as you do for him. Each boy has a place in your heart, but Peter's is just a bit bigger.

"Saturday is Shawn's game isn't it?" You ask, putting away the laundry you've folded on your bed.

Peter walks in, grabbing some pants from the basket and helping. He always does this. He just falls into a natural rhythm with whatever you're doing. "Yeah, but that's at like six. I was wondering if you want to go out after the game?"

"Go out?"

"Mmhmm. Just us." He passes you a pair of underwear and socks. "I'll let you get those," he mumbles softly.

You hold the underwear up and shake them out deliberately to get his attention. He never wants to help fold your underwear. Of course you can understand that they're obviously much more intimate than a pair of jeans or a sweater. But if he doesn't want to see them, or think about seeing you in them, he shouldn't help you fold your laundry.

"Just us?" You smirk, eyeing him for a reaction. "Why not invite Raul and Shawn?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Because...."

Peter looks over at you and pushes up his glasses. His cheeks are pink with a blush and you know your teasing is getting to him. "Because it's a date."

"A date?" You giggle. "Peter Alexander Mendes, are you asking me on a date?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You don't sound sure."

Peter huffs softly.

"Do you not want to?"

"I do."

"Then say it confidently."

He eyes you. "You're teasing me about it aren't you?"

"I am."

"Stop it."

"No way." You sing song and catch his eye. Something changes in him at that moment and he tackles you, pushing you down on to your stomach so you're face down on the bed full of folded clothes. "Peter!"

"I'll show you not to tease me." Peter climbs over you and tickles your sides and you squirm, squealing under the weight of his body. He stops and pins your wrists down as you start to thrash about, kicking him and flailing your arms wildly. "Be still."

You go limp, body reacting to him naturally. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar warmth of arousal in your stomach. "Peter?"

"Yes?" He growls and you are sure you're going to melt.

"Why are you pinning me down?"

"I-" He releases your wrists and sits up, moving over so you can get up. "I just got a little out of control for a second." He runs a hand over his hair. "I'm sorry. You didn't say that was okay. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay. I liked it." You chew on your lip and look down, afraid to meet his gaze, sure he knows what he's done to you. "And I want to go out with you Saturday."

"You do?"

"Yes, now, can I finish my laundry?"

"Yeah." He scoops an arm full up into the basket. "Sorry I destroyed all the folded stuff."

You crawl off the bed and toss your underwear toward the basket, making them land on Peter's lap accidentally. "Maybe if you weren't so...rough...it wouldn't have happened."

Peter flicks the underwear back at you. "You liked it. Don't act like you didn't."

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

Peter crawls forward and kneels before you, baring his teeth playfully. "Maybe next time I oughta bite you and teach you a real lesson about teasing wolves."

You giggle and boop his nose. "Maybe I'll have to tease you again, just to find out what those teeth of yours are for."

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down on top of him. "I'll show you right now!" He bites your shoulder gently and you go still in his arms. He releases you and bites again, a slow drag of his teeth over your bare skin where your shoulder and neck meet. "Tell me to stop," he says lowly, needing your consent to continue.

"I won't," you whisper. You never want him to stop. You're so turned on by him it's insane. All he's doing is biting your shoulder. You've got it so bad and it's more than okay with you. It's been a very long time since you felt this good.

Peter bites again, this time it's more like little nibbles than bites on your neck. He quickly soothes them with his tongue. It's too much too quick. You can feel him grow warmer, a growl rising in his chest as he bites and soothes, bites and soothes. You've opened a whole new world to him and he's diving in head first.

"Peter." You say softly, hand going to his hair. He growls and you tug his head back. "Peter, hey."

"Mmmm?"

"You do have to stop. I don't want to either but...we should really have a first date before this."

Peter groans and drops his head back onto the pillows. "You're right. I got too into it, you just make me go crazy and I can't get enough."

You roll off onto your back and he situates himself so he's on his side, hand on your stomach, looking down at you. "I need to go to sleep. I have my last final tomorrow."

"Should I stay?" He asks, fingers lacing with yours as you cover his hand on your stomach. It's not uncommon that you nap together. Peter loves to sleep with you, and you think you know why.

"I'm not sure. Can you keep your hands to yourself?"

Peter chuckles softly. "My hands, maybe. But my teeth? I dunno. I might have some dreams after this evening. I could get bitey and handsy."

"You should go then." You cup his cheek with your free hand and he leans into it. "I have to sleep."

"Alright." Peter closes his eyes. "One last bite?"

"Should I let you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Just one."

Peter crawls over you, arms braced on either side of your head. He ducks down, nosing against your jaw. You tilt your head up and he licks a little along your throat. He's already taking advantage of your agreement. He's taking his sweet time and you are going to stop him.

"Peter." You warn, grabbing his hair and he moans softly into your skin. "You're taking a long time."

"You didn't say I couldn't."

"Don't you start with me."

Peter giggles, full on giggles as he kisses your neck over your pulse point. "But I can't help myself. You've let me in and now you're stuck with me."

"Peter!"

"Omnomnom," he mouths at your neck playfully and pulls back, crawling off the side of the bed. "Alright. I'll let you sleep." He leans over and kisses your nose. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Peter."

______________________

After your math final you head out into the courtyard to make your way to the north parking lot. You're finally done. Classes are over for the next few months. It feels great to be free for a while, to not have to worry about anything. You spot Peter sitting on the fountain waiting for you, he's got an extra hoodie on his lap and you wonder if it's for you.

"Hey," you say and he looks up from his phone with the biggest smile. "Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes." He stands, towering over you and passes you the black hoodie in his hands. "I brought this for you."

"What for?" You hold it up and it says Aerospace Program. It's the hoodie they give students who have been accepted into the program that places them in study at the aerospace center. It's the program that essentially fast tracks you to a job with NASA. "Peter! You got in!"

"I did!" He says, shaking and turning the hoodie over for you to show you his name on the back. P. Mendes in bold white font. "I'm going to be the first werewolf on the astrophysics team. No. I AM the first one because I'm already in."

You wrap your arms around him and he holds your head to his chest. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you." He presses his nose into your hair. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"I haven't been told where I've been placed yet."

You pull back and look up at him. He looks sad and he shouldn't. He should be the happiest he's ever been. This is his dream come true. "Why's that a problem?"

"Because if I'm not placed here then I'll be placed at the Florida program in our sister school. I'll have to move."

"Oh." Your heart sinks. He might have to leave. Just when things were starting to become more familiar with the two of you, he may have to completely relocate. "Then you go."

"But what about us?"

"We aren't in too deep yet."

"I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving home."

You cup his face and he scowls at you. "Don't throw away everything because of me. I won't let you do that. Why are you worrying about this now? Placement letters don't come out for another month right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to lose you." Peter gathers you close again. "I just got you."

"Then make the most of it now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." You pull away and put on his aerospace hoodie. It's a little big but it's comfy. "We have a date tomorrow night, and Shawn's rivalry game. There's so much to look forward to." You hold his face and squash his cheeks so he makes a fish face. "Stop worrying you big baby."

"How can you be so worry free?"

"Because I know things will work out."

"But how?"

You scowl at him and he scowls right back. "Because I said so. I know you're mister logical everything needs a solution, but this time, just let it be. Just relax. Classes are over, we're free for the next three months."

"Yeah." Peter wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His strength is always surprising. He doesn't look nearly as big and toned as Shawn or Raul but he can easily make you seem like nothing more than a ragdoll. "Three months of you all to myself. I guess I can relax."

"Mhmm. Let's go tell your brothers the good news?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

____________________

Saturday you leave Shawn's game with Peter. You're both in a great mood. The game was outstanding, a hard fight between both teams and Shawn's came out on top. You and Peter drive out of the lot and as you head down a dark street toward the edge of town you realize you don't actually know where you're going. You were so caught up with Peter the last few days you never asked where this date was going to be at.

"Where are we going?"

"The observatory. There's a meteor shower tonight."

"Whoa, did you know there was going to be one? Or is that a coincidence?"

Peter looks over and chuckles. "Yeah I knew. It's going to be incredible. And if we're lucky, we might see something else."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

An hour later and you and Peter are in the observatory, walking around the informational exhibits while waiting for a turn to use the telescope. There aren't many people there, just a few families and some other couples on dates it seems.

Peter takes your hand and leads you into the atrium. It's a huge room with glass walls and a glass ceiling. You can see the stars as they begin to appear one by one in the sky. Being so far out of the city makes the sky so clear, so crisp and dark. There are no lights in the atrium and you sit down on some cushions with Peter, eyes glued to the sky overhead. It's breathtaking.

"Unbelievable isn't it?"

You look over and Peter is smiling ear to ear. "It's like we're in space."

"Yeah. Here, lay back," Peter says and guides you back so you're laying with your head on the floor cushion. He lays beside you and points to a cluster of stars. "See those?"

"Yeah?"

"That's Orion's belt." He points to the left. "There's the Little Dipper."

You follow his finger as he traces out the brightest stars for you. "When is the meteor shower supposed to start?"

"Soon. But I think we might get to see something else first." Peter points to the skyline where there is a hint of light dwindling away. "Look there."

"The sun set?"

"No, it's not the sun." Peter points along the skyline to the left and the lights there look green. "It's the aurora borealis."

"What?" You squint and the light is so far and so faint you can't be sure. "No way."

Peter laughs. "Yes way. If we drive another hour that way we'll be able to see them better. I haven't seen them up close since I was a kid. I hoped tonight was clear enough to see them from here."

"I want to see them."

"But we'd have to drive so far and then back home."

You grab Peter's hand. "Show me the lights. Let's do it, I don't care if we have to sleep in the car."

"You're serious?" He laughs as you nod. "It's early enough, we can probably catch the end of them pretty clearly."

"Let's go." You gather up your purse and Peter leads you to the exit, the two of you giggling like children.

____________________

Forty minutes. Peter drives fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit for forty minutes on the dark highway to take you to the lights. When he pulls over at a rest stop atop a hill, the view is breathtaking. Blue and green lights swirl across the sky, fading in and out of each other. They move slowly like they're floating across the night sky. Ribbons of ethereal light.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this." You mutter, walking around the open field behind the rest stop.

Peter turns your head to the left and there you see something streak across the sky. "The meteor shower is starting."

"That's not a shooting star?"

"No. Well, it could be but I'm pretty sure that was a meteor." Peter wraps his arms around you from behind. "There's the moon."

"Oh! Its full?"

"Not quite. Two more nights and it will be."

You sit down and Peter adjusts so he can hold you between his legs. "Thank you for driving this whole way."

"Do you know what's special about tonight?"

"It's our first date? The lights?"

He chuckles. "Well yes, but the moon is in the same phase it was the night we met." He leans back and then holds a little box up in front of you. "I got this for you."

You take the box and look back at him. "What's this? You didn't have to get me something."

"I know." He presses his face into your neck. "Open it."

You lift the box lid and inside is a necklace with a nearly full moon charm and a small constellation of stars connected to each other. "Peter...this is beautiful. What- why?"

"It's the moon, from the night we met, and your star sign's constellation." He lifts up the moon charm and rubs over it with his thumb. "I thought it'd be perfect for you and as you know I'm a space nerd so..."

"I love it Peter." You turn and set the box down in favor of grabbing his face to kiss him. You kneel between his legs and press your lips gently to his. "Thank you."

Peter's hands find your face and he guides you back so you're laying on him. He kisses you slowly, lovingly. He bites at your lip, nibbling for permission to take things further and you giggle, biting back in response. He growls and rolls you over so you're under him.

For a moment you open your eyes. It's like a dream. The sky above is alight with green and blue waves of light. Peter is so close you could count the freckles on his nose if it were brighter. Truly this doesn't feel real, and you don't want it to end.

_____________________

Three in the morning you wake up to use the bathroom. The bed is empty, though you know Peter went to bed with you last night. The two of you got in at almost midnight and went straight to your room to fall asleep, exhausted from the driving and all the kissing you were doing under the lights.

You make your way to the bathroom and take a seat on the toilet when suddenly you hear voices, the guys. Weird they'd be up so late, but it is the end of the semester. None of them have classes tomorrow. You tune them out, focusing on your businesses.

Until you hear your name. You press your ear to the wall beside the toilet and listen. They're in the living room and they must be close to the wall because you can hear them plain as day.

"So you guys are officially an item?" Raul asks.

"I don't know about officially." Peter replies.

A scoff from one them followed by, "The bite marks on her neck seem pretty official. I can't believe she let you mark her up like that." It's Shawn. "At least take her on a second date you animal."

"I will!" Peter protests. "I got carried away, she is so...she's so good. I couldn't help myself. She gave me the green light and I wasn't going to stop. Come on, you guys know what it's like right?"

"No."

"Not really."

"W-what? I know you guys have been with girls."

Shawn let's out a laugh. "Dude, of course but not like her. You do realize you guys are different."

"Yeah. Don't tell me you don't know," Raul says, voice trailing off.

"I know. It just hasn't come up."

There's a long silence that follows. You lean away from the wall and stare at the hand towel in front of you. What hasn't come up? Is there something wrong? Did you do something? You finish up, wash your hands and pull open the door to go back to your room.

Peter is there at the end of the hall at your bedroom door as if he were going to go back to bed. You stop short of him, standing and staring at his back. What do you say? What do you do?

"Up late?" You ask softly.

Peter turns around and he walks up to you, hands warm as he lays them on your shoulders. He doesn't have his glasses on and he's got his hair clipped back in one of your barrettes. Any other time you would have made fun of him, teased him for taking after Shawn's ridiculous hair trend. But right now it doesn't feel right. Right now you don't know what to think.

"Yeah, just woke up. You okay?" He asks, sliding his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yeah."

An hour passes with you and Peter laying in bed. You can't sleep. How could you? There are many things you've overheard in this house, many things you've just decided to let be. Usually fights, sometimes conversations about girls. But this time, you can't let it go. This time it's about you and Peter, and it's something that you've done and he knows. Your stomach churns. You can't think of anything you've done. Things have been going well, you and Peter fit together perfectly. What-

"Darling," Peter mumbles sleepily, rolling over and putting his arm across your chest. "You're still awake?"

"Can't sleep."

"Talk to me."

You sigh softly. "It's nothing. I'm just overthinking."

Peter slides his hand up your chest and rests it against the base of your throat, thumb stroking gently over your trachea. "Talk to me about your thoughts. I want to be completely honest with you."

"I'm just...worried about classes." You close your eyes and clench your jaw a bit. You feel bad lying about this. You just don't know how to ask for what you want to know. "I think I failed my math final."

"Oh. Well, you can always repeat the course?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to get it out of the way."

He hums softly. "Is that all that's on your mind?"

"Mmmhmm."

His thumb strokes over your throat gently and you shiver. He knows full well how he's affecting you and he knows that you're lying. You don't know how, but you can feel he knows. "Would you sleep better if I went to my room?"

"No." You pulls his hand away from your neck gently, threading your fingers between his. "Please stay."

"Alright."

You close your eyes again and try to settle down. It's not easy when you know he wants you to tell him the truth. You feel so bad. So guilty. "If I did something wrong, you would tell me, right?"

"Mmmhmm." Peter yawns.

"Okay." You turn and curl into his chest. He puts his arm around your back, gathering you as close as possible. "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Darling."

_____________________

Three weeks later.

"I haven't gotten my placement letter yet." Peter groans, sinking into the dining chair at the kitchen table. "Everyone is getting theirs and I'm not."

"You'll get it. Stop freaking out."

"Everyone is being placed here in town. Spots are filling up, if they fill up here then I'll be placed in Florida."

You lean over the table and cup his jaw. "Peter."

"Darling."

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

"I won't leave you." Peter says, taking your hand in his. "I won't."

"Peter. You have to. You cannot stay here because of me if you get placed in Florida. We've been over this."

He stands and holds your face. "I am not going to leave you," he says firmly, leaving you no room for further discussion.

"When is your appointment?" You ask, changing the subject. "For your new tattoo."

"In an hour."

"We should get going then."

At the parlor your take a seat beside Peter. He picks out a moon tattoo, nearly full, the same moon he gifted you on your first date. It's small, just big enough to go right above his swallow on his bicep. He also has two other small drawings. The constellation for your star sign and his.

"You're sure you want mine?" You ask, touching the drawing of the cluster of stars in his hand. "What if something happens?"

"What if we break up you mean?" He chuckles and you give him a look. "I'd never regret it."

"You're sure?" You take his hand and he threads his fingers between yours.

Peter smiles and kisses you quick. "Yes I'm sure. Do you wanna stay for my tattoo or do you want to shop around a bit?"

"I could pick out a new stud for your lip?"

"You could. But I'm not sure how long I'll keep it."

"Why?"

"Because it's a pain to keep in my lip with my fangs."

You nod. "Alright, I'll stay then."

"Promise? Even if I'm a wuss?"

"Yes." You giggle and he leans back to relax, taking a deep breath before the artist gets seated. You hold his hand, thumb rubbing the back his fingers. Maybe he could hold your hand one day while you get a tattoo. Maybe...maybe you'd get something for him.

_____________________

Peter's placement letter arrives on a Saturday. You grab the mail as soon as you hear the box close from where you're watching TV in the living room. No one is home but you. The guys all went out for a run some time ago. You sort through the mail and there is it, addressed to Peter A. Mendes. It's from the school, there is no way it isn't his placement letter. Your hands tremble and you look around as if you have been caught with some sort of forbidden paraphernalia.

"We're back!" Shawn calls from the kitchen and your heart leaps into your throat.

You stuff the letter into your shirt, tucking it into your bra. If he doesn't know it's there, he can't panic about it for a little longer. It's wrong. It's so so wrong. But things are going so well, you and Peter are just about to make the next move in your relationship.

"Darling?" Peter's voice floats into the room and you turn around, hand full of mail. "There you are."

"Mmm? I was just grabbing the mail. I didn't hear you come in."

Peter takes the pile from you and sorts through it, the same expression on his face as he always has. Troubled, scowling, waiting to see that off white school envelope. Relief washes over him, his features softening as he gets to the bottom of the pile. "Nothing yet," he says softly, looking to you and giving a weak smile.

"Nope. Soon though."

"Yeah."

You cross your arms and the letter stabs into your chest uncomfortably. What a perfect metaphor for what you've done. "How was the run?" You ask, attempting to change the subject and not think of the paper in your shirt.

Peter runs a hand over his hair and before he can begin to answer, Raul is putting his arm around his neck. "You should have come!" Raul says excitedly. "Your man went crazy today."

"Oh yeah?"

"I did not." Peter says in his defense. "I just let off some steam."

"Crazy, loco." Raul raises his eyebrows. "He was tearing things apart. Absolute madman."

Peter shoves Raul off of him and covers your ears. "Don't listen to him. He's the crazy one."

You just smile and lean your head against Peter's chest. "Its okay, I know you're crazy. I don't need Raul to tell me that."

"H-hey!"

Raul cackles triumphantly and goes back into the living room.

"I am not." Peter looks down at you, shifting his hands so he's cupping your face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"A little."

"You want me to put you in your place?" He smirks and you press against him. "Yes? You do don't you?"

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe. My last bite marks have all healed over so..." The letter crunches against your skin and you freeze. Fuck. You can't get into it with Peter now. You have to hide the letter. "So...I'm going to check my email and see if my grades for world studies has been posted yet."

Peter eyes you suspiciously but says nothing as you move away from him and head toward your room. Smooth. Real smooth. Not sketchy at all.

_____________________

"Can we talk?" Peter asks while laying across your bed later on that evening. You knew this was coming. There was no way he'd let your suspicious behavior fly earlier.

"Sure."

"I know you want me to drop the subject of the program placement, but I have a question," Peter says softly, his hand finding yours on the bed.

"What is it?"

"Would you go with me?"

You turn your head to look at him, silhouetted in the dim light of your mood lamp on the nightstand. "To Florida?"

"Yeah. If I get placed there."

"In a perfect world, yes." You smile and he looks over at you. "I can be a teacher anywhere. I've got a few more years than you, but I don't mind transferring."

"You'd leave everything behind here?"

"What's here to leave?"

"School? Family? Friends? Shawn and Raul?"

You bite your lip and roll over to lay against his chest. "Moving is only temporary. We'd come back in two or three years?"

"Yeah. Or I'd get a job with the center down there."

"Ohh, well yeah then I think I would go. It'd be fun."

"Yeah."

You take a shaky breath and let it out. "If I did something, will you promise not to be mad?"

"Depends on what you've done." Peter says softly, hand going to your hair. "Some things warrant more emotion than others."

"I took something."

"From me?"

"Kind of." You bite your lip and look to your dresser where his letter is tucked away in the top drawer.

"Kind of? How's that?"

"Well it wasn't yours yet, not technically."

Peter chuckles. "You're speaking in riddles. What'd you do?"

"I took your letter."

"You what?"

You push away from him and climb off the bed. He sits up and looks at you with a confused expression. "You're mad huh?"

"Confused, a little hurt, but I'm not mad." He shakes his head. "How long have you had it?"

"Today. It came right before you got back from your run." You dig in your top drawer and get his sealed envelope out. "I just wanted to delay the news a little while. I wanted you to myself for a little longer. I knew if you got this you'd only focus on it and-"

"Stop." Peter stands and takes the envelope from your hands. "No matter what is in this, no matter what it says, I will be here for you. I won't fret over it. I won't ignore you."

"But-"

He presses his fingers to your lips. "Shh. No buts. It's time for me to open it."

You watch, eyes wide as he tears open the top carefully. He unfolds the letter, eyes scanning the page, face completely relaxed and emotionless. It's so tense you can feel your heart beating in your throat. This letter is going to change everything to come in the next few months.

"I'm moving..." He says softly, eyes flicking away from the paper to yours and then back.

Your heart stops, stomach going cold and sick. "You-"

"...moving my stuff into your bedroom, because I'm staying!" He grins and turn the letter around. You snatch it from his hands and scan the top of it. His placement is at the program on campus.

"Peter!" You shove him and he scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. "You scared me! I was gonna stress puke!"

Peter stop spinning and pins you to the bed and smiles down at you. "I couldn't resist. I'm sorry." He kisses your nose. "But I'm staying, I'm going to be here with you. I couldn't be happier."

"I'm happy too. I don't think I would make it if you had to leave." You brush back some curls that are hanging down in your face. "It was hard enough when I didn't speak to you for a week."

"That almost killed me."

"Yeah." You giggle and then suddenly you remember the other day. The conversation you overheard. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." He noses at your neck and you pull his head back so he knows you're serious. "What's wrong?"

"I heard you and the guys talking the other night. You said you knew something but didn't want to tell me. Did I do something?"

"Oh. Oh no, no you didn't do anything." He chuckles and shakes his head. "We were talking about like...well...werewolves get this connection when we meet someone who is very compatible with us. It's like we form this bond that ties us to this person."

"A mate."

Peter flushes and clears his throat a bit. "Y-yeah. How'd you know?"

"Some of my friends back home were werewolves. It came up a few times."

"Oh thank goodness." He says, so relieved. "I was worried you'd not understand or freak out or something. That's why I didn't say anything before. I've known for a while that-"

"I'm your mate."

"Yes."

"And you're going to stay here for school."

"Mmhmm."

You grin big and grab his face in excitement. The feeling of knowing you're his mate, that you're going to be happy and have him by your side until the end of time is so overwhelming but exciting. "And I get to sleep with you every night and wake up to your mess of hair and your stupid sleepy smile every morning. I-I love you. Oh my God I love you."

Peter laughs a little and leans in to kiss you quickly. "I love you too."

"My Peter." You press your forehead to his. "My mate."

"And you're mine." He bumps his nose to yours. "Forever and always."

You close your eyes and smile. "Forever and always."

End

____________________

Thank you for reading this series! It’s been an incredible journey from start to finish. Thank you everyone who sent kind messages and asked questions and just was excited in general. Shout out to @shawnm521 @delicateshawn @planstonightbaby for your help and input through out this fic. I couldn’t do it with out you guys always listening to me ramble on about concepts.

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

Custom header per part/overall made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #raul mendes #peter mendes #shawn mendes triplets au #mendes triplets #mendes triplets au #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes words

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srsly-messed-up-fruitloop · 4 years

Text

Tug of War (Ch 5)

ch 1 - prev

Word Count: 1,574

“Hey Tuck, you busy tomorrow?” Danny asked as the trio walked through the halls after school.

“Um, yea, I’ve got plans,” Tucker replied reluctantly.

His friends both turned to him in surprise.

“No way, you actually landed a date on Valentine’s Day?” Sam exclaimed incredulously.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

“Wait n—of course I have a date!”

“Who is it?” Danny and Sam simultaneously demanded.

Tucker began to nervously play with his beret. “Heh heh, um...you don’t know them.”

Danny seemed to easily accept his response. “Oh, okay then. Have fun Tuck.”

However, Sam was scrutinizing him. He definitely was hiding something. “Tucker, you know you could tell us anything, right?”

“What? Sam, I do!”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

Sam didn’t reply. Instead, her gaze bore right into Tucker. Within a few seconds, his resolve crumbled away.

“Alright, fine! But you guys gotta promise to not tell anyone this, okay?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam. Honestly, he’ll never get how she does it.

Meanwhile Sam smirked. “We promise. What’s going on?”

“Okay, so you know how I’m trying to get into cybersecurity after college?”

His friends nodded, having a slight idea what it was after hearing him talk about it so much.

“Well, I’m working with this group, and...errr...we’re trying to...help? Some companies?”

“What do you mean by help?” Danny questioned.

Sam added on, “And which companies are you ‘helping’?”

“Just, um...companies like Chase and Capital One. We’re just...I guess you could say we’re testing their security?” Tucker hesitantly answered.

“Aren’t those credit card companies?” asked Sam suspiciously.

“That’s so cool man. I don’t get why you had to hide it from us though,” Danny told him right as he opened his locker.

Sam knew there was more to it, but dropped it when all three of them spotted an expensive camera simply hanging by the strap off one of the locker hooks.

“No way, is a Nikon D80?” Tucker exclaimed gleefully before carefully grabbing the camera to admire it.

Meanwhile, Danny was confused. Wes hardly keeps anything in their locker.

“Hold up. Tucker, turn it on,” Sam said.

He eagerly pressed the power button. “Dude, you didn’t have to ask me first.”

Danny pushed aside a nagging feeling when he saw the menu appear on the screen.

“Whoa, there’s over a thousand photos in here!” Tucker blurted out. “And...they’re all of you, Danny.”

Sam scoffed, “This must be what the creep uses to take those pictures he sells.”

As the trio flipped through the undoubtedly high quality pictures, Danny was suddenly struck by a genius idea. His friends grinned mischievously after he shared what he had in mind.

Wes was exhausted. The last game of the season was coming up and Ms. Tetslaff was really pushing them to their limits.

He lumbered to his locker, already feeling an ache from the intense practice he just had. Opening his locker, he gasped when he saw his camera hanging in plain sight. Crap!

He quickly retrieved the protective pouch from his backpack and delicately placed the camera inside. How could he be so careless? Practice must be really getting to him. He’s so damn lucky that Fenton didn’t take it.

He’s actually not that lucky at all.

Later that night as he was going to back up his recent pictures, his stomach dropped when he discovered they were all gone. Instead, there was one new video.

Wes hesitantly double-clicked to open the video on his computer.

“Hey everybody! Danny Phantom here,” Danny greeted in the video as he was floating against the backdrop of Casper High’s distinguishable brick wall. Listening real closely, you could hear two other people sniggering in the background. “I’m here to finally come clean about the truth.”

Wes’ heartbeat picked up. Was he finally going to...?

Danny continued in the video, “If you go to Casper High, I’m sure you all have heard about the rumours. How Danny Fenton is actually me in disguise. That’s...that’s actually not that far from the truth; my true identity is none other than a Casper High student. I’m tired of hiding it. People of Amity Park, I am actually Wes Weston.” The video abruptly cut out.

When Wes’ dad heard a loud crash from his son’s room and came up to check on him, the boy could only growl in response.

To say that Wes was pissed the next day was an understatement. It turns out, that video was also posted online. All of his hard work over the years, just gone, right down the toilet.

People wouldn’t stop interrupting him in the halls, bugging him to turn invisible or shoot an ectoblast. No matter how much he tried to debunk that video, they continued to wholeheartedly believe that he’s Phantom.

In history class, Paulina slapped him for charging her for pictures of “himself”. After that, he honestly didn’t want to find out how much worse Dash’s reaction would be. He should probably ditch class until this whole thing blew over.

As he pried open his locker to get his stuff, he glowered at the sight of Fenton’s first aid kit. Last week, when he showed off the expensive kit as evidence, no one even batted an eye. Are the kids at this school that stupid, that they’d believe a single video of Phantom speaking than years of proof?

He was about to leave until he noticed a pamphlet sticking out of Fenton’s bag.

Instantly recognizing the logo on it, his frustration melted away and he couldn’t keep himself from chuckling as he flipped through its pages.

As he made his way to exit the school, he spotted Fenton walking by himself in the halls. He smirked to himself. Maybe he’ll be able to rile him up enough this time to expose him and get everyone to forget that video. That’ll be the perfect payback.

“NASA? You want to work for them?”

Danny jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Wes’ voice. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound mad at all. Regarding him suspiciously, Danny replied, “Um...yeah?”

“Wow. I should’ve pegged you as the type to enjoy fabricating hoaxes for a living. We know you already love doing that in your everyday life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh Fenton, you know exactly what I’m talking about—NASA, the corporation whose whole aim is generating lies about outer space to deceive the public?”

“Right, I forgot you were a total conspiracy nut. Listen, I don’t have time for this, I—”

“I’m betting you’re more than eager to join in on the next fake moon landing. You’d just love the extra attention, wouldn’t you?”

“We—”

“Even if it’s for your measly human disguise. But why go through all this work when you could just possess the next ‘astronaut’?”

“Dude, that is so wrong!”

“Really? I wouldn’t put it past you.”

A moment of silence passed, while Danny’s defiant look faltered.

“Honestly, screw you Wes,” he muttered before walking off.

Wes could only stare after the now despondent boy, wondering what the heck was wrong with him. It wasn’t like him to just leave, this was supposed to rile him up even more!

Dammit.

Weeks later, the buzz around the whole “Wes being Phantom” thing finally died down. Eventually, the inevitable situation came where Phantom and Wes were spotted both being in the same place at the same time. Some people still had their doubts, considering Phantom’s duplication ability was well-known by now. But for the most part, Wes’ life eventually turned back to normal.

He sighed in relief as the buzzer rang, signaling the end of the final game for Casper’s basketball team. The Elmerton Owls beat them brutally with a score of 78-36. Ms. Tetslaff was shaking her head in anguish.

He actually wasn’t bothered at all. After all, it was a losing game from the start. Anderson, the best player of the team, broke his leg last weekend in a skiing accident. Wes was just happy that the embarrassing game was over.

As he fist bumped his team members after finishing up in the change room, he left for his locker. Since the game occurred after school, the halls were completely empty.

When he turned the corner, what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

There, sitting and leaning back beside his locker was none other than Danny Phantom, covered in glowing green ectoplasm and clutching a large gash in his stomach as it threatened to spill more onto the floor.

Wes could only stand there frozen, taking in Danny’s unmoving form as the pool of ectoplasm inched closer to his white sneakers.

Suddenly, Danny registered that someone was watching him. Sam? Tucker? Didn’t they already head home? He weakly raised his head to see who it was, only to grimace when he recognized the red-haired creep.

“What do you want Wes?” he barely managed to croak out.

Never in Wes’ life had he imagined seeing him in this position. The worse he thought was watching Phantom’s bravado crumble when the world discovered who he truly was. But this...all of it was already gone in this moment. And as the ectoplasm stained his shoes, he began to question himself.

Wes gulped. He didn’t consider himself to be a caring person. But as Danny sat there, bleeding out before him, he couldn’t…

After sending him one last look, Wes opened their locker, grabbed the first aid kit at the bottom, and got to work.

~end~

#I DID IT #MY FIRST MULTI-CHAPTERED FIC #EVER #COMPLETED #AT 10.5K WORDS #:)))))#fic #tug of war #grooveactuallywrites #wes #blood tw #injury tw #the trio #the STDs

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timetogoslumming · 4 years

Note

Unfortunately I am legally obligated to say this: Racetrack Higgins

unfortunately, i am legally obligated to answer.

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

so, yall are probably going to hate me for this. race isn’t a huge fan of music. he’s always sort of on edge and jittery and music tends to exacerbate that for him. he doesn’t own an ipod. that said, he is most okay with quieter, slower, technically boring music. the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

at his friends’ houses. like, jack will get up to go to the bathroom and come back to find race passed out in his bed. the game they’d destroy everyone else at

boy’s a pinball wizard. the emoticon they’d use most often

😈and 😘 what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

he rambles about space and movies and literally whatever else he can think of. their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

coffee coffee coffee (although he prefers it iced) how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

self care? who’s that? race does love a long bath, though. also, alone time. what they wanted to be when they grew up

an astronaut. their favorite kind of weather

sunny but cool. like a spring day, ja feel? thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

grating. how/what they like to draw or doodle

mostly logos? he’ll draw the nasa logo, nike, starbucks, whatever. basically, he just copies the first logo he sees when he starts doodling.

#newsies #racetrack higgins #Anonymous

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mister-lady · 3 years

Text

Another fic!! Yayy!! Aksndjvkfk. But this one was suggested a while ago by my lovely friend Crypt (@hold-me-and-never-let-go)!! They helped give me the idea when I wanted to write and was looking for some! It's probably weirdly spaced as usual mvmfjffj.

Ship: *I dont have a ship tag yet sue me* (Emile)

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

Matt woke up to the feeling of someone rubbing his back and groaned as he sat up.

"Huh?.." he groggily mumbled.

"Its time to wake up!" Emile softly spoke.

"But I dont waaannaaaaa" Matt whined.

"Come on, I'll make breakfast if you ddoooo"

"Hmph", that was enough to make Matt reluctantly agree to getting out of bed.

Emile planted a soft kiss on his forehead before wandering off to the kitchen. Matt slowly stood up and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and stood in place for a moment to let his brain collect itself.

Once Matt woke up a little bit he wandered into the bathroom and combed his hair to get all the knots out and tried to straighten it and get it into place, but his hair seemed to have other ideas. His mind quickly got distracted at the smell of oatmeal being made and he sped walk to the kitchen and peered over Emile's shoulder.

"Oatmeal?" Matt asked.

"Mhm!"

"What made you pick it?"

"I'm just doing whatever oats my boat"

Matt giggled at the pun, "okay"

Matt did a dramatic gasp as his cat rubbed against his leg, "hello sir!! Who let you be here?", He jokingly asked his cat.

His cat mewed a responce, causing Matt to have another fit of giggles.

"Emmilleeeeeee"

"Yes, dear?"

"Kitty", Matt pointed at the cat.

Emile smiled, "it is a kitty!! Good eye"

Matt flapped his hands as he smiled, "thank you"

There was a small pause of silence, a comfortable silence, before Emile spoke up.

"Luna?" He asked.

"Luna?" Matt echoed.

"Yea that cat from uuuhhmmm" he snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the bame," oh! The uhh sailor moon thingy?"

"Oh!!" Matt chimed. "Isn't Luna a black cat though?" He had a playful smile.

"I dunno, I dont really watch animes"

Matt hugged his husband from behind and gave him a small squeeze, "nice try though" he gently spoke.

"Thank you sweetiepie"

It wasn't until Matt hugged his husband until he realized the therapist wasnt wearing his normal attire.

"There is no way in hell you have a black shirt" Matt spoke, slightly shocked.

"Well theres a few stars on it!" Emile defended himself.

The two boys playfully joked back and forth for a while, both grinning from ear to ear.

"Okay even if it has a space theme it's still mostly black!! And I refuse to believe you would get a mostly black shirt" Matt exclaimed!

"Well then just make space white then!" Emile responded.

Matt laughed and had to pause from responding to have a laughing fit.

"Okay okay" Matt spoke, still giggling between his lines, "still. Black? Since when?? How come I was never told?"

"Guess it just never crossed my mind. I was too spaced out"

"You need to hush"

"Look it even has a cool little NASA logo on the front!!" Emile turned around and pointed at the logo.

That's when Matt started to realize what was happening the whole time. Why Emile looked so smug the whole time.

"..."

"........"

"...."

"Emile"

Matt was a bright shade of red at this point.

"Yes, baby?"

"Where did you happen to get that shirt from?"

"Well I mean I dont know the exact sto-"

Matt cut him off, "no,no I mean when you went to put it on where did you get it from?"

"........"

"..."

"Our closet"

"Who's side of the closet exactly?"

"Cant remember"

Matt snickered at the silly responce, "okay, right or left side?"

"Top"

"Okay top right or left?"

Emile hesitated a responce, "hey uh dont you think I sold get back to cooking now-", he made a shy attempt to change the subject.

"Emile!!!"

Both of them were a fair shade of red now that they both new what was probably gonna happen.

"What? I'm just saying!!"

"You're trying to change the subject!!"

"No I'm not!!"

"That's my shirt isnt it?"

"Wow you have a bright mind!"

"...thaaankkss???..."

"Its even brighter than a star"

Matt burst of laughing, "quit making me laugh!!!"

"Never! It's your fault for having such a cute laugh"

"Hush!"

Emile ruffled Matt's hair as he went to grab two bowls, "I'm surprised you pointed out!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well it's not like you were gonna tell me to take it off or anything"

Matt blushed deeply at the statement, "y-yea well what if I do!!!!"

"Oh really?"

Matt stared at the ground too flustered to really respond.

Emile kissed him on the forehead, "I love you sweetiepie"

"I love you too" he murrmurred.

"Come on, let's eat. Breakfast is ready"

#:||D!!#i loved writting this one a lot!!#the original plan i had for it changed because i got too simpy at the idea of himb wearing my clothes 👉👈#this is a scheduled post so your probably seeing/reading this while im not online akkamxmfjf

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ladyhistorypod · 3 years

Text

Episode 19: She Blinded Me with Science

Sources

Jocelyn Bell-Burnell

PhysCon

Star Child – NASA

NPR

Reflections on women in science -- diversity and discomfort Ted Talk (YouTube)

We are made of star stuff Ted Talk (YouTube)

Dame Jocelyn Bell Burnell describes the discovery of pulsars (YouTube)

Concepción Mendizábal Mendoza

People Pill

México Desconocido (Mexico Discovered)

She Builds Podcast

Instituto de Investigaciones (Investigations Institute)

CAPSULA DEDICADA A LA ING. CONCEPCIÓN MENDIZABAL (Capsule dedicated to Concepción Mendizabal, YouTube)

Seattle Times

Further Learning: Nuestras Voces (Our Voices)

Rosalind Franklin

US National Library of Medicine

SDSC

National Geographic

Further Learning: PBS NOVA

Click below for a transcript of this episode!

Archival Audio: “There’s something else. When you and Jack were little and wanted to know what made it rain, what made the telephone work, whom did you ask? Not dad. He was at work. But I didn't learn about science in school. I had to dig out the encyclopedia later to satisfy you. So you see, women need to know as much about science as some men do.” Haley: Lady History made me smarter. So my dad and I were watching Jeopardy, and I can't tell you when this was but Alex Trebek was in it and also I don't think the new season came out but I digress. It's the final question where you have to like write it down and it's like this whole very awkwardly put question about like French history and it was like who did she– like she murdered X, Y, and Z who is this. And my dad’s like Joan of Arc and I was like no, Charlotte Corday. And he said “how did you know” and I was like “honestly dad this is like a ninety five percent like balls to the wall guess, but I'm gonna say Charlotte Corday” and it was Charlotte Corday and I was just sitting there like haha! Because my dad– I think I spoke about this I think it was with like Erin– that my dad, the way we would get like our allowance was through… Alana: Riddles and trivia questions. Haley: Yeah. So he's still on that like this whole– Lexi: You still get allowance? Haley: No no no no. Lexi: Oh. I was like wow, okay. Haley: No. I still– I don't get allowance, I wish. The way that we like we just spend the holidays was either playing Codenames, which is like a fun fun board game, everyone should just play it, and then doing crossword puzzles. New York Times comes out with these like questions from the news… like it's ten– usually ten questions, or for the new year they did like thirty questions. So his thing will be like everyone has to answer the New York Times, and he won't give out the answers until we've all done it just to see like who's the smartest of the week. And I've only got like the smartest of the week once. Alana: Nice. Haley: To be fair, they watch the news everyday and I do not. I use like my like news app to get like notifications and if I go on some sort of site, that's how I get the news. I'm awful, no one like model after me. But Jeopardy came in clutch just because of this podcast. My dad was like “oh so the podcast like is actually like helping education, growth” and I was like… Alana: Yes! Haley: Yaaaas. Thank you. He also said we have a cool logo. Alana: Um, shout out to Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Lexi: So we've proven that the show's educational. Haley: Yes. Lexi: We now can continue that claim. Haley: Yes. Alana: We knew the show was educational. Lexi: Although, is it only educating us? Haley: I have faith we have listeners. Hi listeners. Alana: Hi listeners. To be fair, we’re kind of the primary… like we can see our reactions to the podcast the most. Lexi: Hey, listeners. Are you there, it's me Margaret. [INTRO MUSIC] Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly lady you missed in history class. I'm not sure how she ended up always being first introduced, Lexi. Lexi, what's your favorite science? Lexi: I should probably say like astrophysics or something because I'm currently interning at the Air and Space Museum, but that would be a lie because my favorite science is probably like earth science, environmental science would be my real favorite science. Alana: That means next up is Haley. Haley, what's your least favorite science? Haley: Physics. Hard core physics. Alana: I really wanted you to say astrophysics. Haley: I was about to, but like I will forever say physics just because I have a really hard time with numbers and letters being in the same math groups. Alana: And I'm Alana and as a child I went to science camp for upwards of five years. Haley: Okay, so my question is did y’all ever learn about like the history of science in class? Because I don't remember, especially I was thinking about this for twentieth century like STEM women because that's our theme. And I realized like I conceptually like didn't realize like what happened in the twentieth century, even though I know it's like the nineteen hundreds that's the twentieth century. But realizing that like my history class didn't really go through that. Like I had no concept of like people from the twentieth century doing impacts of science. Lexi: We didn’t learn about it in history class, we learned about in science class. Haley: Yeah, in my science class I can't pull from it I can’t– Alana: I had– I forget who the author is, but I met him at a Politics and Prose event– when I was in my tenth grade chemistry class, we had reading from a book called The Disappearing Spoon, which was like the discovery, the history of the discovery of a bunch of elements which was really cool and so that was like kind of our history of science thing, that was fun. Also Crash Course recently did a history of science. Haley: Yes, that’s why I loved it. Yes. So, Crash Course– Hank and John Green, hello. Alana: Hello. Hank? Lexi: it wouldn’t be an episode without a Green brothers reference. Haley: I truly was trying to like figure out a way that wouldn't bring them up with this question. Alana: I literally was like… you said history of science and I was like Crash Course. Crash Course. Crash Course! Haley: That's how I got into like not just like forensics and like history of like science and history. But they were the ones that made like science fun for me in high school. And then I got hooked on their history, and then it was college where it was like you can study history, medicine, and bones! Congrats, Haley, here it is! But like in my high school curriculum nothing like twentieth century history and or science was like… science was not a thing. We just were still learning basic cells. Like I just remember every year, come January, we were fucking learning what a cell was. And it's like, okay, mitochondria– Lexi: You were talking about biological cells every year in school? Haley: I don't know why, but like at least two years in high school because I was in like the intro to bio and then chemistry even we talked about like cells because it was biochemistry as a unit. And then I took AP bio junior year and then for forensics she brought up cells because of like blood cells and everything. Lexi: I mean, cells are important. Haley: Yeah, cells are important. Alana: Do you remember Punnett squares? Lexi: Yeah, I love Punnett squares. Alana: Those are my favorite. Lexi: Genetic science is actually my favorite science. And it's my mom's favorite science, my mom was actually a biology major. Haley: Low key… Lexi: Because she loved Punnett squares. Haley: I thought like something was wrong with me, like I had a terrible genetic mutation because I could not tell the difference between a capital P. and lowercase P.. Archival Audio: Is astronomy a significantly more inviting field for women today than it was thirty years ago? Jocelyn Bell-Burnell: Yes, I believe it is and I believe it's getting better all the time. We are becoming more conscious of the differences between men and women– the different ways they work, and the contribution of women is becoming more and more recognized. It's still got a bit to go, but it's coming along very nicely. Lexi: On July 15th, 1943, Dame Jocelyn Bell-Burnell was born near Lurgan, Northern Ireland. As a young girl, she encountered astronomy through her father’s extensive book collection. Her family, who knew educating girls was important, encouraged her to explore her interest in the subject. She received support in her studies from the staff of the Armagh Observatory, which was near her home. When Jocelyn was attending preparatory school, only boys were permitted to study science. In a TEDx Talk from 2013, Jocelyn recounted being separated from her male peers and assuming it was for physical education, but it turned out the girls were being sent to the “home economics” class while the boys were being sent to science class. Of course, she went home and told her parents. And her parents, who as I mentioned before, believed girls should be educated just like boys, were angry to hear that the school did not allow girls to participate in science class. So along with the parents of two other girls at the school, Jocelyn’s parents fought for her right to study science. The three girls were moved into the science class, but being the only girls in class was not easy. The teacher kept a close eye on the girls. So it was hard for them to overcome being the only girls in that class. But, Jocelyn received the highest score on her science final at the end of that term. She did it, she passed all the boys, and got the highest score despite being disadvantaged by being one of the only girls and by them trying to keep her out of that class. Jocelyn went on to study at the University of Glasgow, where she earned a degree in Physics. She graduated in 1965, and went on to pursue her doctorate at Cambridge. Jocelyn worked with her advisor Antony Hewish to study the mysteries of space. And she assisted in the construction of a radio telescope, which would be used to track quasars, which are large celestial bodies and there’s like a lot more science that makes them… It’s a deep science thing… deep astrophysics. Again, astrophysics is complicated and too big brain for me. But they’re things in space. And when the telescope was ready to operate, Jocelyn was assigned to operate it and analyze the results it produced. And this was like way before computers as we know them today, so the telescope actually printed its results out on a big chart and then she would look at the chart as it was printing out and analyze it that way. Jocelyn began to notice strange results on the charts produced by the telescope, which were faster than those typical of the quasars. Jocelyn did not know it yet, but she had discovered the first evidence of pulsars, highly magnetized rotating compact stars, which are different than the previously mentioned celestial bodies. At first, Jocelyn and her advisor were suspicious that the signals may have been signs of alien life, so they nicknamed them “little green men” signals. A year later, her findings were published in an academic journal. As scientists around the world began to investigate the signals further, they were able to identify them as coming from the stars that I mentioned. And the term pulsar was applied to this type of signal. The press, upon finding out that the discovery had been made by an attractive, young, female graduate student, pounced on the story, of course. But instead of asking her about her scientific studies and the research she was doing, they pestered her with questions about her appearance like “what’s your waist size” so we love that. In 1968, Jocelyn earned her doctorate. That same year she was married, and unfortunately spent much of her marriage focused on her husband’s career rather than her own, moving place to place as he moved place to place. In 1974, her advisor was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics for Jocelyn’s contributions to the discovery of pulsars. Alana is raging in the background. After her marriage ended and her son had grown up and gone off to live on his own, she went back to pursuing her own passions. She went on to teach with the goal of making science welcoming and accessible to all students, regardless of gender, class, or race. She became a professor at the Open University, a non-traditional college that allows students to take courses at their own pace, and she was appointed as the chair of physics. Her appointment made her one of only two female physics professors in the United Kingdom, so she joked that they had doubled the number of physics professors that were women in the country, so that’s a little sad, but you know… at least there’s two. In 1999, Jocelyn was interviewed for NASA’s StarChild program, which I believe is now defunct but it was an educational program in the 90s, and you can hear some great audio clips of her answering interview questions on the StarChild website which I will link in the show notes. And Jocelyn has also given several TED and TEDx talks, one of which is about women in science and what it’s like to be a woman in science. And I used it as a source so that will also be linked in the show notes. You can find that there if you’re interested– in the further learning. And I will leave you with a quote from her 2013 TED talk which I thought really summed up her experience, “Those of us who've been early in a field have often had to… play the male game. And I hate to think what a lifetime of doing that has actually done to me.” She should have won the Nobel Prize but they gave it to the guy who was her advisor instead, even though she actually made all the discoveries. And her accent’s adorable. Alana: Is she still alive? Lexi: Yeah, she’s 77. Alana: I’m not good at math. Lexi: She’ll be 78 this year. Alana: She’s a Cancer you didn’t point that out. Lexi: You’re– that’s your thing. Haley: Concepción Mendizábal Mendoza. I definitely pronounced her middle name incorrectly, I am so sorry. The Z-A with un acento on top of the A always messes me up for some reason. My little lisp comes back. But Concepción is how I’m gonna refer to her. Actually I think it means conception in Spanish, so like that's fun. Here's my little side note read this: my Spanish is declining because my mom is Cuban, therefore my Spanish came from my grandparents so when they died I never had that continuous we talk every single week every… sometimes like every single day, and I'd be speaking Spanish so in those like six years I have not spoken Spanish. I’ve read it and translated it for various projects, however, pronunciation is difficult, apparently. And that also comes in with our gal, coming from Mexico City, a lot of like the publications and references are coming from Mexico, so it took me like ten plus hours because then I was like trying to see what resource was a blog or what resource was like an actual resource and then I found some YouTube and some podcasts. But again, don't stop researching someone even if they come from a different country and you have a hard time like researching. It was still fun. I knew her from like a book of like STEM– she's an engineer, we'll get into it, don't worry. Just sit back and relaxing. It was fun reading in Spanish honestly. My Google translate kept popping up, but some of the Google translates for like the scientific terms were just no Bueno and also with how they like conjugated her name of being conception didn't look great sometimes. But that's Google Translate’s problem. So her being an engineer is rad in itself, but she's Mexico's first female to earn a civil engineering degree, so snaps for that. Ahora abramos nuestro libro de historia! I practiced that five times in the mirror even though I knew how to say all those– Lexi’s cracking up, I just wanted to do a good job. I have a big fear about speaking Spanish even though I'm technically fluent. Alana: It made me smile. I thought it was cute. Haley: So Concepción, with her upbringing, it was written in the stars if you will because she was the daughter of the famous engineer Joaquín de Mendizábal y Tamborrel and growing up she was motivated to study. And like one article described her as like her life being a little sheltered? Honestly I think that… that was just like me translating because it did use the word– literally translated sheltered, but it's noted that like her father was an engineer motivating her as well to study. And again being like the first woman engineer, yeah your life was probably a little sheltered in Mexico City where like no other females were studying the same thing in a sense. And in school– and for orienting ourselves in the timeline– it's 1913 to 1917, and her… she had her like basic education at la Normal para Maestras de la capital which is the normal for teachers in the capital. That's like the crude translation. And then she was enrolled into a higher level math in another school, the Escuela de Altos Estudios– which is the school for higher education essentially– and she was one of four women at that school. And this gets a little dicey because not only did she stand out for like being that sparkly fish in the pond, being one of four women, but she was able to tackle difficult civil engineering courses, finishing them without failure. And moving forward a little bit to 1922, she attended Palacio de Minería which is the Palace of Mines and Mining, which is now a museum actually. So it was first built as a space for the Royal School of Mines and Mining, like the royal court there, and then changed to the school for engineering, mines, and physics. However, it's now a museum. Like I said, it kind of gets dicey around the 1913/1917 when she’s taking classes and now we’re a few years later in the 1921s, where she got into the school in the sense that she… she was there listening to classes; however, not fully enrolled until 1926 because she didn't have the high school certificate yet. But again, she passed with flying colors because obviously. And she passed the engineering exam on February 11, 1930 and quick side note because some of y'all are screaming at me saying that she was not the first woman to get a civil engineering degree in like Mexico. There is contention, because around like 1930ish– before, because 1930ish was when Concepción Mendizábal got her degree, so her being the first at 1930. There's another woman who apparently went to the engineering school before her, but from the end result of my snooping, there was no other registered woman at the school between 1792 and 1909, and then also no other like registered woman to have graduated. At this point, it's Concepción because she graduated, and she was the first woman to graduate. She wrote down a lot through her education and post education, and it’s Memorias Prácticas, which is practical memories. And literally what I'm thinking of practical memories is books and notes. Again with my research it's very much scattered of translating from what I deemed as the best resources coming from Mexico. Please give me more research sources, let me learn more about this gal. So practical memories, I'm guessing are just like her books and notes and they're still in the Palacio de Minería or the Palace of Mines and Mining, again, which is now a museum. So I thought that was like really cool how like her school like recognized that she was just like such a beautiful mind and like so great and talented that they've kept all her stuff. I really want to see it. The Palace of Mines and Mining is not a great website, so I couldn't like go through their collections and actually see it. Maybe one day I'll make it down to Mexico City. And in 1974 she received the Premio Ruth Rivera which is the Ruth Rivera Prize which goes to the best woman in engineering and architecture, which I thought was like really cool because she like continued– she didn’t go after school and like settle down like none of what I read was like her settling down with like a husband and kids, it was all like concretely what she did for engineering. So post her getting the prize and just also she died in 1985, just up to her death she was still working. She wrote a lot. She was the author of like a fifty two volume book– she just knew how to conceptualize or kind of put a lot of hard engineering concepts into writing and into paper which is a really hard thing to do. And the fact that I obviously couldn't see many of them… I tried, maybe I was looking in the wrong places. But I just wanted to see if there was more for like the engineering mind, or if she wrote some things for us as non engineers to read them. Kind of like what Hank Green does. Because that's what interests me. I love when people take what they're like very very good at, especially when it's like a hard science and dwindle it down for people not in that field. Alana: That's what we do. We’re trying to make our knowledge more accessible. At least that's what I feel like we're doing. Lexi: That's what we're trying to do. Alana: That’s why we interrupt each other to be like Hey… Haley: Yeah. Alana: What is that? Lexi: Hey, explain more in depth that thing… Alana: ...that we all kind of understand, but yeah just in case. Alana: So. I'm going to start off my story here with a joke that you might know, you might have seen, that joke is… What did Watson and Crick discover? Haley: Absolutely nothing. Alana: Rosalind Franklin's notes. Haley: Gold. Alana: Thank you. It’s not mine, but I really like that. Lexi: Exquisite. Alana: Thank you. If I do a bad job– just like a heads up if I do a bad job explaining the science part of this, I'm sorry. Lexi doesn't speak Chinese, I don't speak science. That's just how it is. So Rosalind Franklin was born July 25, 1920, a Leo, in London, England to a prominent Jewish family… and I'm having an identity crisis because I think I was born into a prominent Jewish family? Anyway. I should talk to my mom about that. She attended Saint Paul’s School for Girls which focused on women getting degrees other than their M. R. S.. Haley: What’s an MRS? Alana: Oh, I was waiting for a laugh at my joke and Lexi snapped but I didn't get an audible laugh. M R– your MRS degree is Mrs degree… you know… Haley: Oh my God I just got that! Lexi: Wait, I thought you were like playing dumb. You’ve never heard that? Alana: You've never heard MRS degree? Haley: No. Alana: It’s my favorite thing. It's like why women in… Like it was this phenomenon of women in the forties and fifties going to college… Lexi: Yeah. Alana: … to meet their husbands. Lexi: To meet men. Haley: Ring before the spring, I know that one. Lexi: I’ve never heard ring before the spring but I have heard MRS degree. Alana: MRS degree! Haley: So dumb. Alana: I think they make that joke in Grease. Haley: It has the same letters as… Alana: MRS degree. I was waiting for a laugh because I– Lexi: Your Master’s in being married to a man. Alana: The MRS– I love that joke, it’s my favorite joke. I think it's so funny. We can dive into why I think that's so funny in therapy. But I have more pressing issues for therapy. So Rosalind was very good at math and science and also languages. She left St Paul's a year early to go to Newnham College which is part of Cambridge University and was one of only two all women colleges at Cambridge. She graduated in 1941. I'm going to summarize the rest of her academic work so that we can get to the good stuff. She earned her PhD in physical chemistry from Cambridge in 1945 after studying the microstructures of carbon and graphite at the British Coal Utilization Research Association where she had done research during World War II. Instead of going into the kind of war work that other women were doing during the war she was doing war-oriented research on carbon and graphite which was more what she was interested in doing the science-y stuff and not like building weapons which was another important part of women’s work in World War II but we're not talking about women in World War II even though I have a lot of feelings about that. In 1947 she started working at a lab in Paris, the name of which I'm not even gonna try to pronounce where she learned how to analyze carbons with x-ray crystallography which is sometimes called x-ray diffraction analysis. I'm sorry I can't explain more about what that is, it's just what it's called. You use X-rays to– Lexi: If you tried to explain it I wouldn't understand the explanation. Alana: But maybe… Maybe our listeners will understand and can help explain to me what X-ray crystallography slash diffraction is. Let us know. Write in. A friend of hers, Charles Coulson, suggested, “hey what if you did this, but make it larger biological molecules.” So she took over a project at King's College in London from a scientist named John Randall using X-ray diffraction to take pictures of DNA molecules. This is where Rosalind crosses paths with Maurice Wilkins, who is the first villain of our story. He’s not actually a villain, he's just kind of a chauvinist and annoying. I'm just being dramatic, as usual. Maurice Wilkins thought that our dear Rosalind was just a lab assistant when in actual fact she was conducting her own research. One of my sources was like “this is understandable given the university's attitude towards women at the time.” It's not an excuse. That's not an excuse. You suck. Period. Anyway, so. The specific note that Watson and Crick discovered was a photograph called Photo 51. I can't find any copyright free images of it, but if you go to our show notes… which will be at ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com… under further learning there's a PBS website where you can learn more about the photo specifically and see it. The point is it's a very clear photograph of a DNA molecule where you can kind of pretty clearly see the double helix structure, which is like a twisted ladder. It really was only a hop, skip, and a jump for people to figure out that, using this photo, the structure of DNA was the double helix which is like a twisted ladder if you don't know. Maurice Wilkins showed this picture to James Watson and Francis Crick who were also doing DNA research without Rosalind's knowledge or permission. Frustration noises! I'm so angry about this. So Watson and Crick beat Rosalind Franklin to the punch publishing their research even though they were really publishing Rosalind's research. It's like if they were doing a 200 piece puzzle and Rosalind had put in 198 of the pieces, but Watson and Crick came in and put down the last two and were like “look we did a puzzle!” I almost knocked my headphones out I was so angry. Oops. Lexi: It's like when my mom makes dinner but then my grandma takes it out of the oven and she tells my dad that she made dinner. Alana: Yeah pretty much. Rosalind left King's College– I wonder why– for Birkbeck College where she did some X-ray diffraction work with the tobacco mosaic virus– which as far as I can tell only infects plants– as well as the polio virus, specifically on their structure. Rosalind Franklin died of ovarian cancer in 1958 at the age of 37. Four years later, Watson and Crick were awarded the Nobel Prize, which Rosalind would not have been eligible for anyway– I guess– because they don't nominate or award posthumously, but still really annoying. Anyway, Rosalind Franklin, she's really cool, she deserved better. I love her very much, my girl. Even though I have no idea– what she… like I know what she did but I don’t understand how. Lexi: You know it's absurdly easy to nominate someone for a Nobel Prize. Alana: It is absurdly easy to nominate someone for a Nobel Prize. And the research was published before she died, so maybe just be like “hey–” Lexi: It's even easier today. I mean I can't speak for back then, but literally there's a form on a website you fill out. So like someone could have done it before she died. Like I said, they did not have the website back then. But it's not easy today… Alana: Yeah. Lexi: There was like… easier then too. Alana: So that's really annoying to me. They couldn't even be like “hey, you know Rosalind Franklin actually took this picture, and that really helped us.” Lexi: Just like what happened with my lady. Alana: Yeah. Lexi: Her supervisor could be like “actually my grad student really did all the grunt work on this,” you know. Alana: It's not like Rosalind was even a grad student though. Like she had a PhD and was doing this research. Lexi: Yeah, it’s just women in science get real… What all women in science, regardless of… the situation. Haley: And this wasn't that long ago. Alana: This wasn’t that long ago! Lexi: We’re talking about the 20th century. Alana: We’re talking about the 20th century, it’s the 21st century. My grandfather was born in 1927 and he's still alive. And Rosalind was born in… Lexi: The woman I talked about is younger than my grandmother, yeah. Alana: They're all still here, there’s still work we gotta do on being more welcoming to people of non male genders just in general. Haley: There’s just work we have to do as human beings just all across the board. Alana: In science fields and ever. Ever where. Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself. Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time, on Lady History. Haley: Next week on Lady History; she will be the history. We're talking about some modern gals and their impact on our lives. Really we’ll be fangirling a lot. I'm excited, are you excited? Of course you are. Lexi: It's called “Tomorrow She’ll Be History'' if that inspires anything. Haley: That's what I was gonna do. I was just gonna repeat the title and see what else comes out of my mouth. Lexi: Yes I love when… I love when you like mouth– mouth vom. Word vom. Normal vom is mouth vom. But… mouth vom.

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