#i really like their relationship dynamic though. god seeing them together makes me fume and i want to see more of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellakitse · 4 years

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To Love You This Well

TK and Carlos have been together for over a year, and are more in love than ever. As they watch their friends get ready for the next big step in their lives, Carlos can't stop thinking about the next step he wants TK and him to take.

Written for Lone Star Week Day 2 - Great Dynamics

E,15k fic Sequel to ‘It Takes a Village’

Carlos Reyes is with his boyfriend TK, and their friend Judd in the half-finished nursery of the man’s house. There is plastic on the wooden floor and buckets of pale-yellow paint around them, the walls are bare and primed for them to get to work if only TK and Judd can stop bickering.

“You’re doing that wrong, Cowboy Judd,” TK comments just as Judd puts the roller to the wall.

Judd throws him a mild glare over his shoulder in response. “Kiss my ass, City boy. I know how to paint a damn room.”

“If you know how to paint,” TK crosses his arms, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then why are you doing it so badly?”

“TK, I swear to god – “

“Hey, I’m just trying to help. If you want to mess up your daughter’s room and make your eight-month pregnant wife cry, that is completely up to you,” TK shrugs his shoulders as Judd gives him another dirty look.

Carlos bites down on his lip to keep from laughing at the aggravation on Judd’s face or the absolutely bratty grin TK gives him back.

TK has been living above Judd and Grace’s garage for over a year now. A temporary situation that has proven beneficial enough for all involved to keep it going, and it just doesn’t get old for anyone to watch Judd and TK lock horns or poke at each other the way only siblings can.

“You’re a pain in the ass, and I hate you,” Judd answers childishly. It’s another amusing aspect of their relationship to see them both act like kids around each other. TK scoffs at his comment, obviously not believing it any more than Carlos. In the last year of living together, Judd and TK’s friendship has solidified. He knows the other man sees his boyfriend like a kid brother. He’s even admitted – much to TK’s delight – that he feels closer to him than his blood brothers, probably due to their career and the fact that between work and home, they spend so much time together. “Fine, TK, tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Carlos can’t help the snort that escapes his throat as Judd caves, but swallows back the desire to bust out laughing when Judd turns his glare towards him, while TK grins pleased and lovingly in his direction.

“You have an opinion, Reyes?” Judd asks with a biting tone, grumbling when TK slaps his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude to my boyfriend, or I’ll tell Grace on you,” TK warns him before walking over to Carlos. Wrapping his arm around his waist, TK presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if you too are going to start necking, I’m dumping these buckets of paint on you both,” Judd warns them, pointing the paint roller in his hand at them. “I don’t care if the result is me sleeping on the couch. It will be worth it.”

“Necking, Judd?” TK asks with a mocking laugh. “What are you, an 80-year-old?”

“What are you, TK? A 15-year-old who can’t keep his hands off his boyfriend?” Judd shoots back. “You’ve been together well over a year, isn’t the honeymoon phase over yet?”

“Never,” TK grins before looking back at him with a twinkle in his eye. “Right, baby?”

Carlos shoots Judd a quick look before turning to face his boyfriend, feeling amusement and love for the man in his arms. They’ve been together for over a year and a half if you count their beginnings when they were still in the casual phase, which Carlos does. He’s known since the moment he laid eyes on TK that first night in the rain that he was going to matter to him, and he wasn’t wrong. TK is the most important person in his life outside his family – no, that’s not right. TK is his family, the one of his own making, maybe not officially but in every way that counts.

Lately though, his thoughts have been a steady stream of how much he wants to make it official between them. He wants to call TK his family more than he’s ever wanted anything else in his life.

A hand at his cheek startles him out of his thoughts, and he finds beautiful green eyes looking at him curiously. “Where did you go, big guy?” TK asks him softly, his hand warm and a little calloused as he runs his thumb over his cheekbone.

Looking over at Judd for a moment, he feels himself blush when he sees the guy giving him a silent but understanding look, making Carlos question just what lovesick expression he has on his face.

He ignores their friend for a moment, flashing TK a smile as he shakes his head. He leans down to give him a quick kiss, his stomach fluttering at the soft fond expression on TK’s face when he pulls back.

“I think the paint fumes are getting to me for a sec, I’m fine,” he reassures him.

TK smiles at him, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Why don’t you go get a glass of water and visit with Grace, she’s making dinner. Get away from the smell while I teach a man in his late 30’s how to paint.”

“Say good-bye to your boyfriend, Reyes,” Judd jerks his head towards TK. “I’m going to drown him in a bucket of paint.”

“Telling a cop your murder plans,” TK shakes his head sadly back at Judd, and Carlos can feel his amusement as he leans against him. “How have you survived this long in life?”

Carlos lets out a huff of laughter, interrupting the men before they get started on their squabbling, these two can go on for hours. “I’m going to tell Grace that her daughter’s room will probably be ready by her fifth birthday,” he tells them. Ignoring the two matching sounds of protest, he places a kiss on TK’s temple before letting him go.

“Play nice,” he warns TK, holding a finger close to his face.

TK goes in for a nip of his teeth, giving him a dirty smirk when he snatches his hand away.

He shakes his head at his ridiculous boyfriend, a reluctant smile on his face. He starts to leave the room, but not before he hears Judd speak once more.

“Strand, would you stop staring at your boyfriend’s ass for a moment and help me paint already?”

֎֎֎

Carlos walks into the Ryders’ kitchen, breathing in deep the delicious smell of Grace’s cooking. He finds Grace at her island counter chopping onions, smiling as he watches her pregnant belly bump into it every time she moves.

“Yes, I’m a whale,” she says without looking up. “No need to stare, Reyes.”

Carlos laughs softly as he walks up to her wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss on her cheek. “You are gorgeous, baby mama, that’s why I’m staring,” he assures her as he lets go of her to lean on the other side of the counter. “You’re the most beautiful pregnant woman I have ever seen, and I have sisters with kids.”

Grace looks at him with a grin on her face, her dimples winking at him. “You are too charming for your own good, Carlos Reyes,” she raises an eyebrow at him. “Between that and the way you look, you’re a danger to society. All the boys and girls of the greater Austin area need to be careful.”

Carlos can’t help the blush that spreads across his cheeks; no matter how much he tries, he can’t help but get flustered when Grace teases him. “Stop,” he mumbles only for Grace’s grin to grow like it always does when she messes with him.

“Of course, it doesn’t really matter to you,” she starts with a glint in her eyes. “All those boys and girls are doomed to be disappointed that you’ll never look their way, you already found your dream boy, didn’t you, darling?” she asks, and Carlos can see that she’s trying hard not to laugh at him, given how hot his face feels, he’s not surprised.

“You like making fun of me,” he pouts, though his mouth curves upward once more when she lets out a deep laugh throwing her head back. He can see why Judd is so in love with her.

“You make it so easy,” she answers as she leans over and pinches his cheek.

Carlos swats at her hand half-heartedly, himself laughing. In the time that TK has lived with her and Judd, he has gotten to spend a lot of time getting to know the couple better. He considers both of them good friends, but he admits his heart holds a special place for Grace. After TK and Michelle, she is his closest friend.

“Why don’t you sit down,” he nods towards the bench at the breakfast nook. “I can take over,” he continues as he looks around at what she has started and sees that she’s going with Tex-Mex for dinner.

“Normally, I would be horrified at a guest doing the cooking in my kitchen,” she says as she starts to take a seat. “But you spend so much time here anyway; you’re not really a guest. I sometimes think you’ve moved in here with TK.”

“Is that your way of telling me to come around less often, Gracie?” he asks teasingly as he gets to work. She already has yellow rice going, and the meat is marinating, so he gets to work on the refried beans.

“You’re really going to make me get up to smack you, Carlos Reyes, after I just sat down.?” she asks with a no-nonsense look on her face. “I have a watermelon under my blouse, sitting down and getting up isn’t easy right now, but I will if you keep talkin’ stupid.”

“No ma’am,” he says quickly, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s better,” she answers moodily.

Carlos works quickly and quietly, getting dinner ready as Grace studies him with assessing eyes that start to make him nervous. He tries to ignore it, but after he drops the knife in his hand twice, he decides to ask her why she’s looking at him like that before he cuts off a finger.

“Okay, say whatever you want to say,” he says, looking over at her with what he hopes is a formidable look. He can get perps to do what he wants with one hard look, and yet Grace, a tiny pregnant lady who barely reaches his shoulders, doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

“I was just thinking about you and TK living together,” she says casually like it’s a completely normal thing to say and not something that sends his heart racing.

“We’re not living together,” he answers quickly, feeling his face go hot when she levels him with a ‘no shit’ look.

“I know that,” she says slowly, because apparently questioning his intelligence silently isn’t enough. “I just don’t understand why you haven’t asked him yet.”

“You want to know why I haven’t asked TK to move in with me?” he asks to make sure he’s hearing right.

Grace looks at him again; there is the same knowing look he saw in her husband’s face earlier, shining in her dark eyes, and he knows he’s not going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

“Actually,” she says with a dry look on her face. “I keep wondering why you haven’t proposed yet; you obviously want to.”

Carlos chokes on nothing. He feels his lungs seize up; he’s coughing hard and loud before he can stop it. All the while, Grace continues to look at him, calmly like he isn’t dying in her kitchen.

Finally, after a minute of suffocating and perishing, he manages to get a full enough breath that he’s able to speak again. “What?” he asks, wincing as he hears himself screech.

Grace raises both eyebrows at him as she rests back in her seat, her hands caressing her stomach gently. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she starts, and her voice is dripping in so much sarcasm he’s honestly impressed, or he would be if it wasn’t directed at him. “Did you think that was a secret? Because if it was, you should really tell your face to get with the program. You look ready to drop to one knee every time that boy – well, I want to say speaks, but that’s not true, you look ready to propose every time TK breathes. Have you gotten the ring yet, or have you actually managed to control the impulse?”

“I haven’t gotten any ring!” Carlos all but shouts, his voice high and a little hysterical. He doesn’t tell her that he’s found himself looking outside jewelry stores more than once in the last few weeks. He hasn’t told anyone, not even Michelle, what has been running through his head nonstop. No one knows, except apparently while he hasn’t been saying it out loud, his face has been broadcasting his deepest desires to the world.

Carlos drops his face into his hands, letting out a deep pitiful groan. When he looks up, he finds Grace watching him with a gentle expression.

“Do you think TK knows?” he whispers, trying to think of any moment where TK might have been uncomfortable with him. Luckily he can’t think of any; his boyfriend has been his usual amazingly sweet loving self, a happy smile on his face every time he’s around Carlos.

Grace lets out a soft snort before shaking her head. “I love that boy, but he’s clueless, he has no idea what you’ve been thinking about.”

“But you do, huh?” he questions dryly.

Grace signals him with a curve of her finger, and Carlos lowers the heat on the beans before he does as she asks, sitting down across from her on the small table.

She places a small soft hand over his, a kind smile on her pretty face. “You have no poker face when it comes to that boy, sweetheart.”

He lets out a sigh; he can’t argue her point, he’s always been a pretty open and honest guy with his emotions. If he cares about someone, he sees no point in hiding it. With TK, that belief is amplified a hundred times over. From the moment he met him, his feelings for TK have been spilling at his feet no matter how much he tried to control it at the beginning. A year later, with them together and in love, he’s allowed to show TK how much he loves him. It pours out of Carlos without any conscious thought. Loving TK Strand comes as naturally as breathing to him, and given that he knows that as long as he has air in his lungs, he’s going to love him, it makes sense.

“I love him,” he says quietly, shooting Grace a look when she snorts again, this time loudly.

“Sorry,” she says, sounding anything but. “Was that supposed to be some grand revelation?”

“Are you going to sass me, or are you going to listen?” he complains. Honestly, sometimes it’s like he’s talking to one of his sisters.

“I’m not just a pretty face, I can do two things at once,” she says easily, giving him a shrug of her shoulders when he levels her with an exasperated look. “Please continue to explain to me why you are hesitating from taking a step you clearly want to take.”

“I don’t want to scare him off,” he grumbles, he pulls his hand from under hers to rub at his forehead. “I love him, and I know he loves me. We’re happy, and it’s incredible between us, and I don’t want to rock the boat when all that should be enough for now. It’s not like we’ve been together that long.”

Grace nods at him in agreement. “Yeah, I mean, you had your first anniversary a month ago? Thirteen months is not long.”

“Eighteen months,” he corrects her and knows it’s the wrong thing to say by the smug look on her face.

“Interesting,” she says with barely contained glee. “You’re counting your time together from pretty much the moment TK arrived in Austin, back when you two fools actually went around believing that all you were was friendly bed buddies, very interesting.”

Carlos gives her a dirty look, huffing when it seems to amuse her even further. “To be fair, I never wanted us to be just bed buddies. I wanted to be with him from the start; he just needed time. Which brings me back to my point, I don’t want to push him for more when he’s not ready.”

“How do you know he’s not ready unless you ask him?” Grace counters without skipping a beat.

Carlos doesn’t have an answer, but Grace doesn’t seem to need one, she starts to stand, struggling for a moment before he jumps up to help. She gives his bicep a soft squeeze in return.

“You think about that while you finish cooking, and I’ll go see that those two haven’t made a mess of the baby's room.”

Carlos gives her a small nod before going back to the stove to fry the skirt steak.

“Carlos,” she calls out softly once she’s by the threshold of the kitchen. He turns around to look at her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

“You have no poker face when it comes to him,” she starts, reminding him of her earlier comment. “And he doesn’t have one either when it comes to you,” she smiles at him with so much affection, he feels it deep in his bones. He’s reminded instantly how lucky he and TK are to be cared for by her and Judd.

“He looks at you exactly the way you look at him – “ Grace pauses, and Carlos finds himself holding his breath, his heart beating loudly as he waits for her to continue. “Like you’re forever to him too.”

Carlos lets out a soft exhale at the comment, and Grace seems to understand how deeply her words are impacting him.

“It’s okay to wait – like you’ve said, the two of you are happy,” she smiles, though the look on her face is serious. “But you also know there are no guarantees in life, especially in our line of work. So, if you love him enough to see a future with him – then maybe you should let him know.”

֎֎֎

“That was an amazing dinner,” TK moans as he drops down on his bed, they’ve said good night to the Ryders and are back in his apartment. “You and Grace need to open a restaurant or go on one of those competitive cooking shows. Judd and I can be your cheering squad.”

Carlos lets out a laugh at the comment; he watches TK for a moment; he can already tell he’s nodding off, and if he doesn’t get him out of his clothes, he will fall asleep like he is now, shoes and all. He starts with his sneakers, taking them off before moving on to his pants.

TK looks at him lazily, his usually bright green eyes, a shade softer from his drowsiness. He lifts his hips when Carlos taps him. He takes his snug jeans off, and then moves on to TK’s shirt, each open button revealing more beautiful skin. Finally, with the shirt open, TK sits up to pull it off, leaving him only in his underwear.

He tugs on Carlos’ arm to get him to sit down next to him on the bed. TK’s arms come around his shoulders; his forehead pressed against Carlos’ as he smiles at him sleepily. “You take such good care of me,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against the corner of Carlos’ mouth before laying a trail of small tender kisses down his jaw.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” Carlos answers, he has one hand on TK’s waist, the other high on his thigh.

“Your job, huh?” TK asks while still nuzzling Carlos’ cheek, running his nose up and down the length of it, but Carlos can hear the smile in his voice. “Want it to be a permanent position?”

Carlos feels his heart give a hard thump at the question, his breath catching.

“Hmm,” TK hums, squeezing him half-heartedly. “Stay tonight?”

“Of course,” he whispers back.

“Awesome,” TK answers pleased, now more asleep than awake, before dropping back on the bed, leaving Carlos with a racing heart as he softly starts to snore.

֎֎֎

Carlos wakes up with a gasp, wet heat surrounds him, and when he looks down, he finds TK’s head bobbing up and down as he sucks Carlos’ aching cock deeper into his mouth. He can feel himself nudging at the back of TK’s throat for a moment before he relaxes around him and takes him in even deeper.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans out low, his body jerking when TK sucks him harder, hollowing in his cheeks. “You do that so good.”

TK keeps his mouth on him, his tongue pressing at the underside of his dick right on the spot that makes him see stars. Blindly he reaches up for both of Carlos’ hands and brings them to his head. He lets them go as he looks up at him with those green eyes that lay Carlos low, his pupils are so blown Carlos almost can’t see any green left. TK relaxes his jaw, and Carlos lets out a low swear as he gets what TK wants from him.

Holding TK’s head in a gentle but firm hold, he starts to thrust into his mouth, instantly getting a whining moan from his boyfriend as his eyes close shut. TK shifts the lower part of his body, and it takes Carlos a moment to understand what he’s doing, but when he does, he feels like his body has been zapped with electricity. TK has a hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking in sync with Carlos’ thrust.

“TK,” he breathes out, everything in his body primed and ready, he can feel his balls tightening with the need to come. The image of TK touching himself, getting off on pleasuring him, brings him to the edge. “You’re killin’ me here,” he gets out when TK lets out another sound, this one smug as he strokes himself faster.

“Are you going to come baby?” he asks him, his voice rough and tight as he tries to hold off his own orgasm, his thrusts into TK’s mouth are rougher, less controlled, and his body feels like it’s on fire. “Do you want me to come in your mouth, will you come then?”

TK moans, his eyes flutter open to look at him, there is an almost desperate expression on his face as he gives him a slight nod.

Carlos curses again; he holds on to TK’s hair as he fucks into his warm mouth, getting out two more thrusts before he’s coming. TK swallows around him, sucking hard until he’s milked the last drop of Carlos’ cum, leaving him shaky and sensitive. He takes his mouth off of Carlos with a pop, sliding up his body until they’re face to face.

TK covers his mouth with his; the kiss he gives him is hard, all tongue and teeth while his hand continues stroking himself. A minute later, Carlos feels him shake in his arms, and a wet feeling of TK’s come on his stomach. Their kiss turns softer as TK lowers his body onto his without a care of the mess between them.

Pulling back, TK gives him a sweet smile that has no business on the face of someone who just sucked Carlos’ brains out through his dick.

“Good morning,” he says cheekily like the brat he is, and all Carlos can do is let out a long laugh. He’s so in love with this ridiculously amazing man who’s beaming at him.

“Good morning indeed,” he answers, still laughing. “Were you trying to make me completely useless for the rest of the day? Because if so, mission accomplished. I don’t think I could even do simple math right now.”

TK gives him an incredibly pleased look. “What’s two plus two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Three,” he jokes back, getting a slight giggle in return from TK. He leans up, kissing him softly, tasting himself on TK’s lips.

“Remember we are having dinner at my dad’s place tonight,” TK mumbles into the kiss, causing Carlos to pause.

“Is that why you blew me?” he asks, giving him a squinty look. “To soften the blow?”

TK rolls his eyes at him. “I gave you head because you sleep naked, and I like your dick in my mouth,” he says easily like his words don’t shoot straight to the body part he’s talking about. “Also, don’t act like you don’t like having dinner with my dad. You two enjoy ganging up on me too much for that to be the case.”

Carlos grins up at him; he can’t deny it. He enjoys spending time with Owen. Not only does he like and respect the man, but he enjoys the side of his boyfriend he only gets to see around his dad.

“Is he cooking?” he can’t help but ask. Neither of the Strand men are known for their culinary skills, though TK is getting better, and likes to help Carlos out when they’re at his place. It’s one of Carlos’ favorite things to do; he loves teaching TK how to make his favorite meals, seeing the look of concentration on his face as he files away everything Carlos does.

TK snorts softly, shaking his head. “He’s taking pity on you, doesn’t want you to have to struggle to be polite as you eat whatever he comes up with.”

Carlos blushes, but he can’t help but be relieved. He’s a healthy guy, but Captain Strand takes being a health nut to a whole new level.

TK grins at him, probably knowing what he’s thinking, and Carlos feels warm from his attention and sticky from the mess between them.

“Let's take a shower, hmm?” he asks.

“It’s a tight fit in my bathroom,” TK reminds him, the smirk on his face though, says he likes the idea.

“I’ll wash your back,” he murmurs as he slides a hand down TK’s spine, pleased at the way his eyes go heavy at the touch.

“Deal,” TK answers, giving him a smacking kiss before getting up. He makes a ridiculously cute face as he looks down at the now dry crust on his stomach. “Sexy,” he mutters dryly, and Carlos can’t help but laugh even if his stomach is no better,

Getting up after him, he takes hold of TK’s hand before he can walk towards the small bathroom, reeling him back in. He cups TK’s cheek as he leans in, touching his nose to his. “I love you, Tyler.”

He feels TK’s cheek move under his hand as he gives him a beautiful smile. “I love you too, Carlos, always.”

֎֎֎

With a table full of too much food even for three large men, Carlos bites into an asparagus spear while Owen looks over at TK.

“So how goes the painting of the nursery?” he asks cheerfully, the way he seems to do everything else. In the time Carlos has known him, he just seems to find enjoyment out of everything. Even with his long battle with cancer, now thankfully in remission, Owen Strand could be found smiling.

TK lets out a huff as he plays around with the few vegetables on his plate. “Judd can’t paint; that’s how it’s going.”

“And you can, son?” Owen questions with a curious look on his face.

Carlos ducks his head to hide a smirk as TK rolls his eyes at his dad, obviously not pleased at his painting skills being questioned.

“Better than Judd,” he grumbles, and this time Carlos can’t hide his smile, pouty TK is adorable, before brightening up again. “We got it done though, and Grace is happy, which is all that matters.”

“Can’t believe she’s due so soon, three more weeks,” Owen says with a smile. Like everyone else, he’s just as excited for the arrival of the newest member of their crew. “You can start to see Judd is freaking out.”

TK snorts, giving his dad a nod. “He ran a practice run the other day, to see how fast he could get Grace in the car and to the hospital, he shaved his time from the last run by four minutes, to under 15, but he still thinks that’s not good enough. Two days ago, he started talking about borrowing Carlos’ light bar and siren.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at the comment; he’s already heard it from Judd himself. “The answer is no.”

TK laughs, his whole face lighting up. “I know, he’s just freaking out like dad said.”

“Have they decided on a name yet?” Owen asks, taking a sip of his water.

“Luna Joy,” TK answers, even happier than before. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? If she’s anything like Grace, she’ll be so beautiful.”

“It will be nice to have a baby in the family,” Owen answers with the same happiness.

Carlos watches as TK smiles softly at the words, he stays quiet as he listens to TK talk about the baby and how he can’t wait to meet her. Everything about him is gentle and soft as he expresses his happiness for his friends.

“It’s just great, you know?” he opens with a far-off look. “To get to be there, and see them enter this new chapter in their lives. They are so happy to take this next step, and it’s only going to make them stronger and even more in love,” he says, letting out a dreamy sigh that makes everything inside Carlos yearn.

Owen stares at his son for a moment before looking over at him; there is a look on his face that Carlos doesn’t understand, but it still puts him on alert.

“You know what I have a craving for?” he asks rhetorically, not waiting for an answer before he continues. “Those artisan donuts from the bakery two blocks over.”

“You want sweets?” TK raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Was it the talking about our pregnant friend that gave you a craving?”

“Listen, smartass,” Owen starts, ignoring the teasing look on TK’s face. “Make yourself useful and go get us some donuts while Carlos and I clean up.”

TK looks at his dad curiously and then back at him, a silent question on his face, and Carlos knows he’s probably thinking the same thing as him. Owen isn’t a subtle man, and it’s obvious he’s trying to get rid of TK for a moment. But if the man wants to talk to him in private, he’s not going to deny him.

“Bring me back something with custard filling,” he says with a shrug.

TK looks at him for a moment longer before turning back to his dad. “I’ll be back soon,” he warns him, while Owen just gives him a sunny smile that has TK rolling his eyes as he gets up and heads for the door.

Owen waits until the door is shut before turning towards him. “Let’s clean up.”

Carlos gives him a nod of agreement, standing up, he starts to collect the dirty plates with Owen, moving quietly into the kitchen. The counter has takeout containers all around it, and Owen moves towards them as Carlos heads for the sink. He gets to work on washing the dishes while Owen scoops out the leftovers into Tupperware.

“I just wanted to say that I’m grateful you’re in TK’s life,” Owen begins without hesitation. It’s not surprising, Carlos has gotten to know his boyfriend’s father well enough to know he doesn’t beat around the bush.

He turns around to face him; the plates are forgotten for a moment as he gives Owen his complete attention.

“I’ve liked you from the start,” Owen tells him honestly. “You’re a good man; you were patient with TK when he was struggling. You’ve been there for him and me as we dealt with my cancer. You’re good to my kid, and you’re good for him.”

Carlos swallows hard around the lump in his throat. This isn’t the first time Owen has told him something like this; he knows he’s had the man’s approval since the beginning, something that he’s thankful for, given how important he is to TK.

Still, there is something about the way Owen is looking at him, the tone in his voice that tells Carlos that there is a deeper significance to this conversation.

“Thank you, sir,” he starts hesitantly. “It means a lot you saying that, but – ” he trails off unsure how to continue.

“But why am I saying it right now?” Owen questions with a half-smile. “You can’t think of a single reason why the father of the man you love is telling you that he approves of you in his son’s life? Not one, Carlos? Nothing you’ve been considering asking TK?”

Carlos feels his face go red hot, burning when Owen laughs softly at him.

“Do I have it tattooed on my face?” he questions desperately. “Seriously? Are the words ‘I want to ask TK to marry me’ on my forehead?”

Owen laughs even louder, eyes similar to the ones he loves dancing with amusement. “Literally? No. Figuratively speaking? Absolutely. In big bright letters, all over your face,” Owen answers, waving a hand in front of his own face to show him.

“Oh my god,” Carlos says pitifully, covering his face with his hands to give himself a moment.

“Carlos, son,” Owen comes over to him. “There is no need to be embarrassed.”

Carlos takes his hands off his face, he finds that Owen is still smiling at him, but there isn’t any teasing or amusement there. Instead, there is an openness to his expression that makes him take notice.

“I can’t begin to say how grateful I am for you,” Owen starts, his bright eyes crinkling at the corners. “I see you with my kid, and the utterly naked love and care you have for him on your face. You love him the way I always hoped he would be loved, the way he deserves. TK can tell you, I have never liked a single one of his boyfriends, I was always polite, but I couldn’t stand them. He says my standards are too high when it comes to him, and he’s right, but he’s my son, and I want the person he chooses to be with to love and protect him with everything they have. To make up the moments where I have failed at that,” Owen says quietly, holding up his hand when he goes to speak.

He gives him a sad smile.

“Trust me I have failed him, when the towers came down I was so focused on my own grief I neglected my son, told myself he understood, but he was just a little kid, all he knew was that I wasn’t always around,” he tells him, shaking his head. “Somehow, he didn’t hate me for it, he forgave me, and I was still his hero. I failed him again by not noticing he was sinking into a dark hole and was using. And I failed him when I kept my opinions about Alex to myself when what I should have said is that I thought proposing to him was a mistake,” Owen confesses tiredly. “I knew, in the long run, he would hurt him, and I said nothing.”

Carlos contemplates Owen’s words before speaking. “I would never purposely hurt TK,” he says quietly, before continuing cautiously. “I’m not perfect, though.”

“I know without a shadow of a doubt that you would never intentionally hurt him,” Owen says softly. “And I also know you’re not perfect, but I see the way you try to be as perfect as you can be for him because you think it’s what he deserves.”

“It is,” Carlos insists, TK deserves nothing short of perfect. He frowns when Owen shakes his head.

“No, TK doesn’t need perfect,” Owen tells him as he places his hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “He needs someone who loves him with his whole heart. Someone who makes him feel safe, but also allows TK to protect them back because TK is first and foremost a protector, he has a need to take care of people. He needs someone who makes him better every day and challenges him. Someone who goes out of their way to make him smile, and laugh, and light up like the sun when they’re around him, and you need to know Carlos, that’s you. You are all those things to him. I see it every time I’m around the two of you, or when he talks about you, or hell when he’s texting you,” Owen continues with a shake of his head, grin firmly in place. “I have never seen him happier than when he’s with you. So if you’re thinking about it, I want you to know, man to man. Nothing would make me prouder than to call you my son-in-law.”

Carlos feels a lump of emotion in his throat; he hadn’t realized until now just how much he needed Owen’s approval. With his own father long gone, he’s come to see Owen as something of a father figure. To know that Owen – who no matter what he says about failing his son, loves TK more than his life – trusts him with his son enough to be okay with Carlos being the person TK might spend the rest of his life with, means everything.

“Thank you, Owen,” he whispers, getting the words out even as his eyes sting.

Owen smiles at him, his own eyes looking a bit wet. “Hug it out?” he asks jokingly, and Carlos lets out a startled laugh before he pulls the older man into a tight hug.

He feels Owen slap his back a few times, his embrace comforting. They stay like that for a moment, not hearing the footsteps until it’s too late.

“What’s going on here?”

Carlos and Owen pull away from each other, to find TK by the entrance of the kitchen, bag in hand, looking at them curiously and a little concerned.

“Everything okay?” he asks, a slight frown on his face, probably noticing the fact that both he and Owen look a little emotionally raw.

“Just having a manly hug,” Owen says brightly, crossing the room to take the bag of donuts from his son. “It’s good to show emotion and physical comfort,” he continues when TK raises an eyebrow at him. “Therapeutic, even.”

֎֎֎

Carlos can tell TK is dying to ask what he walked in on back in his dad’s kitchen. He watches out of the corner of his eye as TK shifts around in the passenger seat. Carlos gives him credit for being able to hold off until he’s pulling into the Ryders’ driveway.

“Tell me,” TK starts just as he turns off the car, his voice small and low. “Is he sick again?”

Carlos startles at the question, snapping his head towards TK. The look of fear on his boyfriend’s face hitting him square in the chest. “No!” he exclaims, rushing to explain when TK continues to look doubtful. “Baby, I swear that’s not what we were talking about, as far as I know, Owen is healthy. You know he wouldn’t keep it from you if he was relapsing.”

“You two were hugging and had obviously been crying,” TK argues helplessly. “And it wouldn’t be the first time he kept being sick from me.”

“We were talking about you,” he answers, stressing the word. He reaches out, running his hand through TK’s soft hair, pressing on his scalp to soothe him. “He was telling me that he’s happy I’m in your life, and that he can see that I make you happy.”

TK’s expression softens, the worry etched on his face alleviating some.

“You do,” TK answers quietly, he shifts until he’s sideways in his seat, tilting his head so that Carlos’ hand is touching his cheek, before pressing himself into the hold. “You make me happier than I have ever been before.”

“He said I make you smile,” he comments, touching the corner of TK’s mouth as it quirks upward.

“That’s true,” TK says with a wide grin.

“And laugh,” he continues.

“Mmhmm,” TK mumbles, closing his eyes as Carlos traces his mouth with his finger. “All happy feelings are tied to you.”

“It’s the same for me,” he whispers as TK opens his eyes, there isn’t much light around them, and yet he can see TK’s bright eyes, they crinkle at the corners as he looks at him. “I thought my life was fine before you came into it, and it was. I just didn’t know it could be this much better until you came along. You fill it with so much joy and love that sometimes I can’t believe it’s all mine.”

TK makes a quiet sound before he pushes forward, his hands pull at Carlos, and he only has a moment to take a breath before TK is covering his mouth with his. TK licks his way into his mouth, laying claim to him in that way of his that makes Carlos quiver.

“I love you,” TK whispers between kisses. “Every part of me is in love with you; every part of me will love you forever.”

Carlos feels his heart thunder under his ribcage. TK’s promise, along with the conversations he’s had with Grace and Owen, all mix together. The thought that has been consistently on his mind for weeks now ringing out loudly.

He knows what he wants; he wants this.

“Forever?” he asks quietly after another kiss; he wonders if TK can hear his racing heart.

TK makes a sound as he presses his forehead against his. “Forever,” he answers with a dreamy quality to his voice.

They stay like that for a moment, pressed against each other, and Carlos comes to a decision. He knows what he needs to do.

֎֎֎

Carlos takes a steadying breath before he knocks on the front door of the Ryder house, waiting patiently for the door to open.

When it does, Grace greets him with a smile though looking a little confused, probably because he’s knocking on her door when TK and Judd are both at work.

“Hey,” he starts quickly. He’s full of nervous energy, and he needs to get it out before he backs out. “I was wondering – if you felt up to it – that is,” he rushes to reassure her. Grace is due in less than three weeks, and maybe she’s not up to going out. “If maybe you would come with me to look at rings?”

Grace stares at him, but Carlos can see the moment the words register with her by the broad smile that takes over her face, and in the next second, he has an arm full of an almost nine-month pregnant woman squealing in his ear.

“Watch the baby, woman!” he shouts, steadying her when she does a little hop.

“It’s fine,” Grace rolls her eyes at him, waving away his concern. “Luna Joy is happy and doing a little dance in here,” she pats her belly. “Her future uncle Carlos is going to propose to her godfather.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow as she points a finger in his face. “That’s a secret by the way. Judd hasn’t asked TK yet, so keep that to yourself. Come inside for a second and help me put on my shoes, I haven’t seen my feet in over a month.”

Carlos does as she asks, helping her with the shoes she points at under the mudroom bench.

“You sure I’m not putting you out?” he asks as he ties her tennis shoes. “You should probably be resting.”

“I’m pregnant, Carlos, not on my death bed,” she starts dryly. “I can walk around; it’s good for me. Plus, if you think for one second that I’m not going to help you find TK the perfect ring now that you’ve asked, you’re not as smart as you look.”

“Thanks, Gracie,” he says with a quirk of his lips as he helps her stand back up.

Grace places a hand on his forearm, giving it a squeeze as she smiles up at him. “I’m so happy for you two.”

Carlos rolls his eyes even though he can’t help the smile that covers his face, his stomach flutters with excitement and anticipation. “He hasn’t said yes yet.”

Grace levels him with a genuinely spectacular unimpressed look. “So we’re just being stupid today, is that it?”

Carlos pouts at her. “Rude,” he grumbles as she smirks at him, patting his cheek as she throws her purse over her shoulder.

“You’ll get over it,” she assures him, giving him a slight push out the door. “Now, let's go find the perfect ring for the love of your life.”

Losing his frown, he smiles again at her words, sounds perfect.

֎֎֎

“Who knew you were so picky,” Grace comments as she leans against a glass case full of jewelry. She personally had stopped looking at rings half an hour ago and was instead enjoying the chocolate milkshake she made him get her from an ice cream truck as they moved on to the next jewelry store.

“You said I needed the perfect ring,” Carlos reminds her as he looks through the following glass case, the poor salesgirl who had been helping them had given up on him too, leaving him to browse alone.

“I didn't mean it literally,” she lets out a sigh after taking a big pull of her shake. “TK doesn’t care about the perfect ring, and you know it. What’s going to be perfect for him is that the man he loves wants to spend the rest of his life with him.”

“I know the ring doesn’t have to be perfect,” he tells her, barely sparing her a look as he moves over some more, he leans down until his nose is practically touching the glass as he squints at the rings. Some were too flashy, some way too simple, some god awful, and some were just okay. “But TK deserves perfect, and I haven’t found that, yet,” he vows.

Grace doesn’t say anything, but he can feel her eyes on the side of his face until it starts to burn. When he turns his head to look at her, he finds her looking at him with the gentlest of smiles on her pretty face.

“What?” he blurts out, his eyes widening when he spots tears in her eyes. “Are you okay? Does something hurt? Is it the baby?”

“No fool,” she says with a wet laugh as she runs a hand over her cheeks. “The baby is fine; these are happy tears. I have gotten a front-row seat to you two falling in love, and – “ Grace lets out a sigh, shaking her head as she smiles. “I’m just so happy for you guys.”

Carlos bites down on his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose, the emotions inside him nearly overwhelming him. “Don’t you dare start crying,” he whispers hotly when he sees more tears in her eyes. “If you start crying, and then I start crying, at least you have an excuse,” he points at her belly. “While I will just look like a crazy person.”

Grace laughs as she cradles her stomach, her dimples flash at Carlos charming him completely; her happiness for him makes him feel warm all over. “The perks of being a heavily pregnant woman.”

Carlos pulls her sideways to his chest, thanking her softly for her support. He holds her for a moment before pulling away when he hears her gasp.

“I think I found your ring,” she says, stepping out of his hold, she waves the salesgirl over pointing at a ring.

Leaning over the counter, he looks at the one she is pointing at and lets out a sound of his own. The ring is white gold or platinum, a smooth wide band, with a slimmer inner band a shade darker, in the middle deep in the band are two baguette diamonds. The ring isn’t too simple or too flashy; it’s somehow just perfect.

The salesgirl hands him the ring, and the moment he holds it, he knows it’s the one.

Grace can see it on his face by the wide grin she gives him. “I’m good, aren’t I?” she says, pleased with herself, and well, as he holds the ring he’s going to ask TK to marry him with, he can’t really argue with that.

֎֎֎

It takes another week for him and TK to be off work on the same night. In that time, he thinks about every way he could ask TK to marry him while the ring sits inside his sock drawer taunting him. He thinks maybe a fancy restaurant is the way to go but discards it; he’s too nervous about doing it in public.

In the end, he decides to do it at his apartment; he plans a meal he thinks TK will enjoy, cleans his place within an inch of his life, and sets enough candles to be romantic but not get a fire safety lecture from his boyfriend. He dresses nicely after being done with dinner, pockets the ring, and then waits for TK to arrive. Luckily for his nerves, TK shows up at the time he promised he would. When he hears movement at the door, he rushes to open it before TK can use his key.

“Hey,” TK starts to greet him, a look of surprise on his face, keys in his hand. He watches as TK takes in his appearance, and his expression changes from surprise to interested. “Well, hello handsome,” he says slowly, a smirk working it’s way to his mouth.

“Hi,” he exhales, his heart is already racing, and the night hasn’t even started. He leans in to give TK a soft kiss; only that TK has other intentions as he presses his body firmly against his, circles his arms around his neck and licks his way into his mouth. Carlos returns the kiss with enthusiasm, he wraps his arms around TK’s waist, lifting him a few inches off the ground as he pulls him into the apartment.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” TK swears against his mouth a little breathlessly as he kisses him again. “What’s the occasion?”

“I wanted to do something nice,” he answers, going for another kiss, but TK pulls back, his eyes widening as he looks over Carlos’ shoulder.

“Whoa,” he says softly. Carlos turns his head towards what he’s looking at, and okay, maybe he went a little overboard on the table. But he’s a man with good taste and an eye for décor, sue him. “Please tell me I didn’t forget an anniversary,” TK jokes with a worried look on his face.

Carlos shakes his head at him, running his hand up and down TK’s back. “Trust me, you didn't, I just wanted tonight to be special,” he answers, grateful that his voice is steady.

He leads TK to the table, pulling out his chair. TK sits, but not before brushing his lips across his cheek, his expression tender.

Carlos moves into the kitchen, bringing out two plates of roasted chicken, rosemary potatoes, and a roasted tomato salad. He places a plate in front of TK, getting a smile in return.

“You’re amazing,” he says softly as he looks over at his dinner. “You got off shift only a few hours before me and did all this.”

“Martha Stewart helped with the recipe,” Carlos quips, getting a grin in return.

“You’re such a good provider,” TK teases as he bites into the chicken before letting out a soft moan, his eyes rolling back for a moment. “Fuck this is delicious, marry me.”

Carlos pulls in a sharp breath, and with it, a piece of chicken, choking.

“Shit,” TK swears, getting up from his chair as Carlos continues to cough. He feels TK’s hand slap his back hard, and he inhales again, rough, but actually getting some air. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he gets out. TK looks at him with concern while Carlos can feel his face turn red. “It just went down the wrong pipe.”

TK sits back down, but the look of uncertainty still lingers on his face.

“TK – “ he starts, his hand going into his pocket, feeling the cool metal of the ring.

“ – I was just joking,” TK says at the same time. “The chicken is so good,” he laughs, but it’s so uneasy and strained. “Marry me,” he continues, mocking himself.

Carlos pauses; he takes in TK’s wide eyes, uneasy expression, and feels his stomach drop in a really unpleasant way. He grasps his hand around the ring even though it feels like it burns now. Swallowing hard, he musters up what he hopes is a smile. “Right,” he says quietly, looking down at his plate, any desire for food gone along with any hope he had for the night.

“Carlos – “ TK starts, and Carlos can hear the worry in his voice, it makes his stomach twist even further.

He opens his mouth to reassure him when both their cell phones ring out with a rapid set of notifications. They frown at each other, both reaching for their phones.

“Holy shit,” TK exclaims, staring at his cell; Carlos gets up quickly, blowing out the candles as he reads the first text from Judd telling them Grace’s water broke and they’re headed for the hospital.

“Up, up, up,” he says, quickly pulling TK out of his shock. “We gotta go.”

TK lets him push him towards the door, only to stop before he can get it open. He watches him as he hesitates for a second, his eyes straying to their half-finished dinner.

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly. “I feel like I fucked up before,” he waves at the table awkwardly.

He stays quiet, not sure how to answer, the ring in his pocket feeling heavy, but the longer he remains silent, the more TK seems to fold inward, the look of uncertainty on his face getting worse until he can’t stand it. He takes a step forward, cupping TK’s face between his hands, making sure he looks at him. He leans in slowly, brushing his lips across TK a few times until he hears his boyfriend sigh softly and feels him take hold of his waist, pulling him closer.

“Of course we’re okay,” he tells him, making sure his voice is steady. He might be feeling a little heartbroken right now, but he is not going to make TK feel bad when he doesn’t even know what tonight was about. “You didn’t fuck anything up.”

TK frowns, his brow creasing in the middle. “Are you sure?”

Carlos nods, the smile on his face comes a little easier. He might be disappointed with the way the night has gone, but as long as he has TK, he’ll get over it. “I’m sure, baby,” he whispers, kissing TK once more, softly and tenderly, pouring all the love he has for him into it.

TK sighs again when the kiss ends, he presses his forehead against his, his nose rubbing against Carlos’. “I love you; you know that, right?”

Licking his lips, Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat. “I know,” he answers, giving TK a soft squeeze. “I love you too.”

֎֎֎

When they arrive at the hospital, Marjan and Paul are already there, along with Judd’s father. Carlos stays by TK’s crew while he walks over to the older man giving him a friendly handshake.

“Any news?” he asks as he looks down at his friends.

“Judd is in the suite with Grace,” Paul lets him know. “We saw her a few minutes ago; she’s a little uncomfortable, but handling it like a trooper. There is a chance Judd might pass out though.”

Carlos chuckles softly at the image that makes, he turns when he feels TK slip his arm around his waist.

“Mr. Ryder just told me Grace asked for us to come to the room when we got here,” he tells him with an excited smile.

Carlos returns the gesture, sliding out of his arms to take his hand. “Let's go see our girl.”

TK’s smile grows, and Carlos is happy to see the worry from before gone from his expression.

They walk hand in hand to Grace’s hospital room, peeking in quietly. “Hey guys,” TK says softly, walking in through the door before him.

Grace and Judd look over at them, Grace with a tired smile and Judd with the expression of a man silently freaking out. Carlos understands Paul’s assessment better. The big guy does look a few shades paler than usual.

He walks over to his friend, squeezing Judd’s shoulder before leaning down to kiss Grace’s forehead. “How are you doing, mama?” he asks quietly.

Grace smiles at him, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I’m fine – just having a baby, you know,” she answers like the smartass she is. “My cowboy here might faint, though.”

Carlos shares a grin with her when Judd protests and TK snickers.

“How was dinner?” she questions excitedly, and Carlos feels a moment of panic. He drops his hand to hers, giving it a quick squeeze just as TK speaks.

“You knew Carlos was cooking me dinner tonight?” he asks, when Carlos looks at him, there is a slight frown on his face.

“She gave me the link to the recipe,” he improvises quickly.

TK looks at him for a moment longer, looking unconvinced. He’s not the only one staring at him. Grace is giving him an unimpressed look of her own.

“Judson, I would like something cold to drink,” she says, her gaze turning to her husband before looking at TK, giving him a tilt of her head towards Judd. “Please go with him sweetheart, I don’t trust him to remain on his feet on his own.”

“I’m fine,” Judd argues even as he stands.

“You weren’t fine five minutes ago,” she reminds him with a look.

Judd rolls his eyes, letting out a huff. “You were screaming.”

Grace levels him with another look, though her mouth twitches. “Boy, are you in for a surprise when it’s time for me to start pushing,” she says with a wry smile. “Now, go get me my drink, please.”

Judd softens, he leans down to kiss her, brushing back one of her curls. “I’ll be right back, I love you, Grace Ryder.”

Grace closes her eyes, a smile on her face. “I love you too, Judd Ryder.”

Carlos watches them with something that can only be longing stirring in his chest. When he turns, he finds TK watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Come on, TK,” Judd says, slapping his shoulder when he doesn’t move. “My baby wants something to drink; we’re going to bring her everything this hospital has.”

TK lingers for a moment longer, his eyes not moving from his face. “Be right back.”

He gives him a nod. “Okay,” he says softly, watching him until he leaves the room.

“What happened?” Grace asks the second they’re alone. “Tonight was supposed to be the night, did texting you interrupt you from asking him?”

“No, it wasn’t you guys,” he assures her, sighing when she gives him an impatient look. Sitting down in the chair next to her, he gives her a quick rundown of the dinner. When he’s done, Grace is looking at him with a small frown.

“Oh sweetheart,” she starts, taking his hand in hers. “You know it was just a joke.”

Carlos shakes his head. “He looked spooked.”

“Because you probably looked spooked, he’s following your lead,” she argues before wincing, holding her stomach as she leans forward.

“Are you okay?” he asks, standing up quickly to support her back.

“Contraction,” she says through gritted teeth. “Don’t change the subject.”

Carlos lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing her back as she breathes through the pain. It takes a few breaths, but the tightness on her face loosens. She leans back on the bed once more, when she does, she levels him with a look.

“I got scared, okay?” he says quietly, but all it does is earn him another exasperated expression.

“You’re really going to talk about being scared to the woman who is about to push a human out of her body?” she questions dryly.

Carlos glares at her, rolling his eyes when she continues to stare him down. “Okay, fine, fair point.”

“Thank you,” she says smartly before softening, she holds out a hand for him to take. “You love TK, and you want to marry him. It was unfortunate timing, that’s all it was, and now you’re basing your decision on it. Tell him what you want. TK loves you; even if he might not be ready to get married, this isn’t going to be the end for you guys, but keeping your desires a secret will only hurt you two in the end. He’ll sense something is wrong, given the look he gave you before he left the room, he probably already does. Ask him and let him have the time to give you an answer. It’s only fair.”

Carlos looks at her for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re way too wise,” he says fondly as he places a hand on her stomach. “This little girl is so lucky that you’re her mom.”

Grace’s eyes well up, tears spilling down her face as she smiles brightly. “I’m going to be a mama,” she whispers, the joy in her voice makes him misty-eyed too, and he nods as he squeezes her hand.

“You’re going to be an amazing one.”

֎֎֎

They get back to the apartment past midnight when it became apparent that it was going to be a long night before Luna Joy Ryder decides to make her presence known, and Grace sends everyone home.

She whispers ‘be brave’ in his ear when he hugs her; he doesn’t need to whisper ‘you too,’ she’s already braver than him.

The ride back to his place is quiet, and he knows he’s going to have to say something soon, there is only so long TK is going to keep silent. As for him, Grace’s words and the ring in his pocket still weigh heavily. Their unfinished dinner is still on the table, and there are dishes in the sink that need to be washed before they can go to bed.

Carlos tells TK as much, getting a nod in return from him before he tells him he is going to change quickly out of his clothes. As he watches TK head for the bedroom, he can see the tension in his shoulders; the same strain is all around them. He hates it, and resolves that when TK comes back out, he’s going to take Grace’s advice and tell him what’s going on. He can handle TK rejecting him or telling him he’s not ready for marriage yet, what he can’t take is upsetting his boyfriend unintentionally by being closed off.

He gets to work in the kitchen, putting away the leftovers and throwing away the extra waste before he starts washing the dishes. He’s elbow deep into getting the grease out of his roasting pan when he feels movement behind him, and he’s not at all surprised when a second later he feels TK’s body pressed against his back, his lips at the base of his neck as his hands hold on to his hips.

TK lays a series of feather-light kisses right below his hairline. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into his skin before pressing his forehead between Carlos’ shoulder blades.

“Baby, I promise you, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he says quietly, sighing when he feels TK shake his head against him.

“Obviously this was something, and I messed it up somehow,” TK argues, his voice is low, but Carlos can hear the distress in it, making his stomach clench. There is nothing worse than when TK is upset and blaming himself. “I upset you, I might not know what I did exactly, but I’m still sorry.”

Carlos lets out another exhale; they both stay quiet for a moment. It’s time for him to tell TK what all this is about, he can’t let him go on feeling like he did something wrong when he didn’t. TK is quiet, and he thinks he can sense that he needs a second before he speaks. He takes another breath as he reaches for a hand towel, drying his hands before turning around. TK steps back to give him room to move before coming back into his space, his hands reaching for Carlos again, and he has to smile at the gesture as it settles some of his nerves. He knows TK loves him without a doubt; his boyfriend shows him every day with every touch and look he gives him. That isn’t going to change after tonight.

With resolve, he opens his mouth. “I was going to propose tonight,” he says quietly.

He watches as a series of emotions flash across TK’s face, shock, happiness, nervousness, hopefulness, it’s all there for a second, and then it’s gone, replaced by remorse.

“My joke – about marrying you because the chicken was so good,” he whispers, trailing off as he closes his eyes for a moment in regret. “Baby, I’m so sorry, if I had known – “

“Hey, hey, hey, no,” he rushes to speak, placing his hands on either side of TK's neck. “No, don’t feel bad about that. It was just a joke; I reacted badly.”

“I upset you,” TK argues, his hands holding on to his wrists, his green eyes pained and pleading. “I’m sorry.”

Carlos leans forward, pressing a firm kiss against TK’s forehead, as TK’s hold on his wrists gets stronger. They stay like this for a moment, just breathing and forgiving each other for the evening's misunderstanding.

“I got nervous,” Carlos starts to explain, his voice low. “You said what you said, and then backtracked so fast that I got scared. I figured it meant that if I asked you, you would say no, and then it got weird. I made it weird, and I’m sorry, I know you have been confused and worried all night wondering what’s been going on with me. If anyone upset anyone, it was me.”

TK pulls his hands off his face, using the hold on his wrists, he brings Carlos’ arms around his waist before letting go. He wraps his own arms around Carlos neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Carlos returns the embrace just as strong; he presses his face into TK’s neck, the anxieties of the evening finally seeping out of him as he breathes TK in.

They stay in each other's arms, just taking comfort in each other for a few minutes. When TK pulls back to look at him, there is a shy look on his face as he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Did you get me a ring?” he asks quietly.

Carlos laughs softly and gives him a nod. His heart ticks upward when TK looks at him expectantly, and with a steadying breath, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the ring for TK to see.

TK lets out a quiet gasp; he brings a shaky hand to the one Carlos is holding the ring in, and when he looks back up at Carlos, his eyes are shining.

“I know your plans kind of got ruined tonight,” he starts to say, licking his lips nervously before he continues. “And maybe you’re not ready to ask me now, and that’s okay. But I need you to know one thing, Carlos. I love you, I am completely, and utterly in love with you, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So it doesn’t matter if you ask me tomorrow, a year from now, a decade – or what I really want, which is right this very second,” he quirks his lips upward, his expression is lovingly amused and playful. “When you do decide to ask me to marry you, my answer is always, always, going to be a hell yes.”

Carlos stares at the love of his life; his heart is beating so fast he thinks he’s going to pass out. “You – “ he says incredulously. “Did you just propose to me?”

TK gives him a smirk, looking coy as hell. “I’m not the one with the ring,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with love and joy.

Carlos lets out a choked up, surprised laugh, not completely believing this is actually happening. “That’s true,” he answers with a grin, the happiness he feels coursing through him is almost overwhelming. “I should do something about that.”

TK takes in a breath, holding it as he stares at him. Taking one of his own, Carlos starts to go to his knee, feeling his eyes sting when TK lets out a choked sob, his hand going to his mouth.

“Tyler Kennedy Strand,” he starts, the sting in his eyes getting worse as he tries to keep the tears at bay. He takes TK’s left hand in his, holding the ring at the end, and he has to smile when he sees that TK is already nodding his head even though he hasn’t asked. “You are the love of my life, my best friend, and the reason I am the happiest I have ever been. I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love you. All I want is to make you feel happy, safe, and loved. If you let me, that’s what I’ll spend the rest of my life doing. Will you marry me?”

TK’s smile is bright and full, even as tears run down his face. “Hell yes,” he whispers, and Carlos lets out a crying laugh as he pushes the ring up TK’s finger.

TK goes to his knees before Carlos can stand, arms around his shoulders, he pulls him into a hard kiss.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” TK repeats over and over again between a series of quick kisses that make Carlos laugh joyfully, he holds on to him, basking in the tremendous love he feels.

֎֎֎

Carlos turns off the light of the bathroom before walking into his bedroom with a towel around his waist; he uses a smaller one to dry his hair. He finds TK with just bottoms on, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at his hand with a smile on his face.

“This really happened,” he says quietly as he runs his thumb over his ring. “We are getting married.”

Carlos smiles at the amazement he hears in TK’s voice; it’s the same he’s feeling. The whole time he was in the shower, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t daydreamed what happened in his kitchen. While it hadn’t gone how he originally pictured, he honestly couldn’t imagine it more perfect than it was. The love he feels for TK and the love he feels from him in return made the moment perfect.

“You did say yes,” he teases gently.

TK looks up, his eyes running over every inch of him; the gaze feels like a hundred soft touches that cause Carlos to shiver, smiling at his reaction, TK holds out his hand silently. Carlos walks towards him, his body heating up just from the look TK is giving him. Coming to stand in front of him, TK places his hands on his hips, his fingers curling around the towel.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” TK whispers as he looks up at him, his green eyes a shade darker. He leans in, brushing his lips over the skin right above the towel. “I can’t believe I get to keep you.”

He brings one hand underneath the towel, running it slowly up Carlos’ leg, stopping high on his thigh. Carlos exhales sharply as TK keeps kissing his stomach, dipping his tongue into his belly button while using his fingertips to give the underside of Carlos’ cock the softest of touches.

TK smiles into his skin, probably because he’s barely touched Carlos, and yet he’s already hard under the towel.

“TK – “ he gets out, his voice rough with want.

TK pulls back to look up at him again, a mischievous look on his face. He takes his hand out from under the towel, tugging at it to pull it off Carlos’ body.

“Damn,” TK breathes out slowly as Carlos hard cock bobs in front of him. “As long as I live, I’ll never get over how gorgeous you are.”

Carlos opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a gasp when TK leans forward, giving the head of his dick a lick before pulling him into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, his hands automatically going to TK’s head, he shudders as the action makes TK moan before sucking him in deeper to the wet heat of his mouth. “TK, baby,” he pleads, not even sure what he’s begging for, his brain going offline when TK hollows his cheeks, working his cock as he bobs up and down with enthusiasm.

Carlos breathes hard through his nose and just holds on. He feels on fire, every inch of him vibrating from how much he wants TK.

With great reluctance, he pulls out of TK’s mouth, groaning softly when his fiancé leans in further, chasing after him, frowning up at him when Carlos doesn’t let him use his mouth on him again.

“I was enjoying that,” TK pouts at him, and Carlos is amazed that he can be so damn sexy and adorable at the same time. He isn’t sure how he got so lucky to be the man TK loves.

“It’s our first time as an engaged couple,” Carlos starts, his voice is low and rough, he smirks when it makes TK shiver, his eyes going a little hazy as he looks up at him. “I’m not coming in your mouth.”

TK takes a sharp breath one second, and in the next throws himself back on the bed, his hands going to the waist of his bottoms, pushing them past his hips in a frenzy that makes Carlos chuckle. He reaches for his hands to steady them.

“Slow down, my love,” he says to him; he lets the back of his hand trail over TK’s belly, enjoying the way it quivers under his touch, his skin rising with goosebumps. “We have all night.”

“We have the rest of our lives,” TK counters, a loving smile on his face that steals Carlos’ breath away.

“Yeah,” he whispers in awe. “We do. Get up higher on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

TK does as he’s asked, pushing his pants off completely as he goes, leaving himself bare under Carlos’ gaze.

“And you say I’m beautiful,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he grabs a small bottle of lube and a condom from the side table, placing them next to TK before he starts to crawl between his knees. He licks his lips as TK spreads his legs for him to give him space, his body on display for Carlos as he looks at him with hooded eyes. TK’s body is already a pale shade of pink, and he hasn’t even touched him yet. His cock is hard, pointing up as a drop of precum collects at the head. “But look at you,” he whispers softly, he bends down, leaning in to press a kiss on TK’s inner thigh, first the right and then the left. “You are perfect.”

TK sighs as he starts to leave kisses on his skin, inching his way up. He places his hand on Carlos’ head, running his finger through Carlos’ drying curls. “I love you,” he whispers, the words turning into a soft moan when Carlos gives his cock a long lick of his tongue. Sucking on the head as TK had done to him, he slowly takes more and more of him into his mouth. TK keeps moaning, his hips lifting off the bed as he tries to sink deeper into Carlos’ mouth.

Carlos reaches for the lube, coating his fingers as he continues to suck on TK. He brings his lube-covered hand to TK’s opening, rubbing at the rim with wet fingers. TK lets out a whining noise, a please falling off his lips as he spreads his legs even further, bringing his knees up to give Carlos room.

Carlos takes his mouth off TK’s cock just as he presses a finger inside him. “Hold your knees for me, baby,” he tells him, praising him when he follows through with the direction, opening himself up entirely for Carlos to sink his finger into him. Carlos’ cock gives a jerk at the tight hold of TK’s ass on his finger. He slides it in and out a couple of times waiting for TK’s body to yield, when he starts to push a second finger he leans in, licking around them, tracing the rim of TK’s hole with his tongue.

TK lets out a shout, the words coming out of his mouth are a series of pleas as he pushes back into Carlos’ fingers and tongue.

“Carlos, baby, please,” TK moans, he’s still holding on to his knees, but Carlos can feel as he shakes. “Please fuck me already.”

Carlos gives him a few more pumps of his fingers before pulling them out of him and makes quick work of rolling on the condom. Covering TK’s body, he places his forearms on either side of TK, bringing his face inches away from him.

TK’s bright eyes stare into his, his mouth parting when Carlos’ cock presses against his opening. He watches as his eyes widen before fluttering shut as he starts to thrust into him. Lowering his legs, TK wraps them around his waist just as he bottoms out, his hips flush against the curve of TK’s ass.

“Baby, open your eyes for me,” he whispers as he touches the tip of his nose against TK’s. He waits until TK does as he wants to start moving, letting out a moan when he does. “That’s right, keep them open, keep them on me, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Carlos – ” TK gasps out as he gives him a push of his hips. He tightens his legs around him, moving under him to meet his thrusts with a push of his own.

“Fuck, you are amazing,” he murmurs at the feel of TK tightening around him, the hold he has on Carlos never gets old. It’s like TK’s body was made for him – no, they were made for each other.

“Carlos, please,” TK keens, a hand grips his hair, fingers wrapped tight around the top of his curls. His eyes are wide, his pupils so blown Carlos can’t see the green of his irises anymore, and the pretty pink on his skin goes past his chest.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning down to kiss him. TK pushes into the kiss, sucking on Carlos' tongue in a way that makes him snap his hips harder and faster.

“Yes,” TK moans pleased by the reaction as he breaks the kiss to take a gasping breath. “Fuck me harder; I need to come.”

Carlos drops his head into the crook of TK’s neck, groaning into the skin as he does what TK wants. The next few minutes, the only sound in the room is the slapping of their skin and their moans mingling. When TK’s body locks, coming between them with a shout, his hole fluttering, and clasping around Carlos’ cock, he loses the last grip he has on his control and fucks into TK’s body with abandon.

Fast and rough, he thrusts into TK until he’s coming hard and a touch painful, his whole body quivering from the intensity of his orgasm. Dimly he feels TK running his hands up and down his back, petting him softly until he stops shaking.

When he hears TK laugh softly, he pulls his head up from his shoulder to look at him, finding a wide smile on his face.

“If that’s a preview to what married sex is going to be like,” TK starts, his eyes dancing with pleasure. “We’re eloping tomorrow.”

Carlos gives him a grin right before pressing his mouth to his; as he starts to feel sleepy, the day finally catching up with him, he finds that he doesn’t have a single problem with that.

֎֎֎

He wakes up to lips trailing softly at the underside of his jaw, and a warm body pressed to his side.

“Hmmm,” he hums, and he feels those lips curve upward against his skin.

“Good morning.”

He blinks a few times, his eyes still feeling heavy with sleep. TK touches his cheek but not before Carlos catches the glint of the morning light on his ring. He’s instantly awake as he remembers just what happened last night. He turns his head, looking down at TK, who is resting his head on his shoulder and looking up at him with a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says lovingly as Carlos looks at him.

“We are getting married,” he whispers, watching as Tk’s smile blooms, taking over his face.

Their phones on the side table beep at the same time, dragging their attention away from each other.

“Do you think?” TK asks as he reaches over to take his phone.

He punches in his passcode to find a couple of messages, all saying the same thing. With a grin, he looks at TK, who is waiting expectantly.

“Looks like we have a little girl to meet,” he tells him, the joy he sees on TK’s face warming every part of him.

֎֎֎

They arrive at the hospital after 11 am, and TK is vibrating with happy energy. Walking into the hospital room they moved Grace into, they find Owen at the foot of the bed, while Judd is sitting on the edge of it next to Grace, looking down at the small wrapped bundle in her arms.

“Hey guys,” he calls out softly when TK looks like he can’t speak as he looks at the tiny little girl who is currently letting out an adorable yawn.

The three adults in the room turn to look at them with smiles on their faces. Owen steps forward first, hugging his son for a moment before stepping to the side, allowing TK to turn to the small family before them.

Judd stands up from the bed, waving TK over. It’s all he needs as he all but runs to his friend’s side, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you, brother,” he hears TK say into Judd’s shoulder as the older man hugs him tighter.

“Thanks, kid.”

Carlos goes to the other side of the bed, leaning down to kiss Grace’s cheek. He sneaks a peek at the baby in her arms, a tiny spitting image of her mother. “Proud of you, Gracie,” he says softly to her, he reaches out and touches a little curl on the baby’s head. “You do good work,” he tips his chin towards Luna. “She’s perfect.”

“Just like her mom,” Judd tells them as he smiles down at his wife and child.

“How was it?” he asks, looking at both of them, he notices that TK hasn’t looked away from the baby. “No complications, right?”

Grace and Judd shake their head. “My baby handled everything like a trooper,” Judd answers, his gaze soft and loving as he looks back at Grace.

“She so pretty you guys,” TK whispers, just like him, he reaches out to touch the baby’s head.

Carlos knows the second Grace sees the ring by the noise she makes, muffled through pressed lips to keep from waking her daughter up.

“He said yes,” she says happily as she looks at TK’s hand, now frozen an inch away from Luna. She looks up at him, her expression pleased. “Like I knew he would.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, amused by her smugness; he catches the raised eyebrow TK gives him, along with the knowing look on Owen’s face from where he stands, the only one that looks confused is Judd.

“Grace knew you were going to propose?” he asks, ignoring the noise Judd lets out behind him, or Owen’s hushed finally.

Grace snorts back at him quietly. “Know? Who do you think kept him from having a nervous breakdown as he searched for the perfect ring?”

TK turns to her, sticking his bottom lip out. “And you couldn’t give me a heads up? I messed up his original plan.”

“I love you, TK,” Grace starts, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “But Carlos is my best friend now, and I had to keep his secret.”

Carlos grins down at her, warmed by her words.

“You didn’t tell me either, baby,” Judd whines, also pouting when Grace levels him with a look.

“Because TK is your brother,” she answers easily. “You would have spilled the beans.”

“I would like to say I saw it coming a mile away,” Owen chips in. “The moon eyes Carlos gives TK are a dead giveaway,” he smiles at both of them. “Congratulations on making it official.”

TK grins at his dad, thanking him softly, and he’s sure later when they’re alone, the Strand men will be hugging and crying about it together, but right now, Luna Joy Ryder is making her presence known by letting out a small cry, wiggling in her mom’s arms.

He watches as Grace and Judd both look at TK and then share a look between them. Grace nods in his boyfriend’s direction, and he starts to smile as he remembers a previous conversation he had with her.

“So – ” Judd starts, stepping forward to take Luna from Grace’s arms before turning towards TK, who is looking at his friend and his baby with wide eyes. “Do you want to hold your goddaughter, TK?”

TK startles at the question, his mouth dropping as he looks at Grace and Judd. “Are you serious?” he questions breathlessly. “You want me to – “

Big gruff Judd gives TK a sharp nod. “You’re my brother, and you’re my best friend. You have the biggest heart I know, and you have loved Luna since the moment you found out Grace was pregnant,” he swallows hard, but everyone can see the tears in his eyes as he looks down at his child. “Grace and I can’t think of anyone who would be a better godfather to our daughter than you, so what do you say? Will you take the title?”

TK has tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling hard. He licks his lips before speaking, his voice low. “When dad suggested I move in with you guys. I didn’t get why he felt I needed it at first, but you two welcomed me into your home anyway, made me part of your family, and I started to get it. He wanted me to have more than just him,” TK looks at his dad for a moment, flashing him a kind smile.

“Not because he was giving up, but because he knew I had closed myself off and I needed a support system. You guys gave me that. The affection and support you two gave me made me less afraid, and it allowed me to open up my heart again,” he turns to look at him, and Carlos is blown away by the love in his eyes. “Because of that, I have the love of my life, and we are getting married,” he whispers.

“None of you gave up on me, you showered me with more love than I know what to do with,” he smiles, looking at the baby in Judd’s arms. “It would be an honor to be your daughter’s godfather. Thank you for picking me,” he finishes saying, Grace is crying, and Judd is not much better. No one in the room has a dry eye.

“Your wedding vows are going to have all of us be a crying mess, aren’t they,” Grace jokes, breaking the mood as everyone laughs.

Judd places the baby in TK’s arms, and Carlos watches as TK looks down at her with amazement on his face.

“Hi Luna,” he whispers down to her, gasping when the baby opens her eyes. “My little moon,” he continues gently. “You are so loved, little one.”

Carlos feels another wave of emotion hit him hard, and in an instant, he sees his future. The man before him, the love of his life, one day holding their own child, looking at him or her with all the love in the world.

“There’s those moon eyes again, Carlos,” Owen comments as he shakes his head in amusement.

Grace snorts softly; reaching for his hand, she gives it a squeeze forcing him to look away from TK.

“The horse before the cart, Reyes,” she grins up at him knowingly. “Marry the boy before you start picturing babies.”

Carlos feels himself blush at being so easy to read, but TK lifts his head from whispering to Luna – the baby is holding his finger in her tiny fist – and there is a smile on his face that tells him he understands.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he motions him with a tilt of his head.

Carlos goes around the corner of the bed, pressing himself to TK’s side as he turns towards him to show him the baby.

Owen tells them he’s going to call the station and update the crew before leaving the room. Judd sits back down on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of Grace’s face as he leans down to kiss her. They’re in there own little world, and for a moment, Carlos, TK, and Luna are in theirs.

“Do you want this someday?” TK asks quietly, nodding towards Luna, his green eyes are beautiful and breathtaking as they look at him with so much love Carlos isn’t sure how he got so lucky.

“Yes,” he nods, answering honestly. TK beams at him, before leaning in to brush his lips against the side of his face.

“Good, me too,” he whispers next to his ear. “I promise we’ll have it.”

“I love you, TK,” he tells him, feeling it in every one of his cells just how much that’s true.

TK pulls back to look at him, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles. “I love you too.”

Carlos wraps his arm around TK’s shoulder, holding on to him and his promise, knowing as long as TK loves him, he will always be loved this well.

#911 lone star #911lonestarweek #911lsweek #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star fic #tk x carlos #my writing #Day 2 - Great Dynamic

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snowdice · 5 years

Text

You I’ll Come Back For (Part 3)[Dice Roll 5]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton/Virgil, Logan/Deceit/Roman (more background)

Characters:

Main: Patton, Virgil

Appear: Roman, Logan, Deceit, Remus

Summary: They’d met in a jail cell, you see, but unlike now Patton had not been anywhere near trapped, not that Virgil had been aware of that fact. He’d just seen his sweet little cell mate who’d clearly not done anything to deserve being on that side of the bars. Virgil had said “What did you do to get stuck in this joint?” and Patton had started crying. It had taken zero lies and five hours for Patton to coax out the information he’d needed. He’d thought when he’d pranced up to the bars and told Roman he was ready to leave that the absolutely astonished expression which was quickly slipping into fury would be the last thing he’d ever see of the man whose crimes numbered enough to keep him in prison for the rest of his life.

He’d escaped during his transfer to federal prison.

Universe: Cops and Criminals AU

Genre: Crime

Notes: Murder mentioned, gun mentioned.

This is part of my Roll the Dice Event which is where I do random ships, universe, and genres for the Sanders Sides fandom. For more details see this post. I posted a few days ago my results from this dice roll here.

Part 1 Part 2

It had been about a month since the kiss that very much, very definitely should absolutely not have happened, and god was Patton having a hard time not thinking about it.

It was quite the moral dilemma wasn’t it? Virgil was a convicted felon on the run from the law and Patton was a police officer trying to catch him. Yet, he’d forgotten that in the moment. He’d forgotten what type of person Virgil was and everything he’d done. It made Patton feel guilty. He could barely even meet his boss, Logan’s eyes.

And yet, he couldn’t help but think about the man’s lips on his or how gentle his hand had been in Patton’s hair. The low tone of his voice when he’d uttered the words “you I am coming back for,” haunted his dreams and definitely not the nightmare kind.

However, right now was not the time to be thinking about dark, dangerous eyes that softened inexplicably on Patton or the contrast of the feeling of warm lips on his to the cool handcuffs on his wrists. He was at work, mostly alone at the moment since everyone was either out getting lunch or on their way to go get lunch. Patton was supposed to be filling out a report, not daydreaming. He frowned at it. He really didn’t like paperwork.

He looked up from the paperwork, happy to completely forget its existence, when a man marched into the office as if he owned the place. He was wearing a business suit with a yellow tie and had a scar across half his face. He also looked like he not only could kill a man, but was planning on doing so forthwith.

“Um, excuse me sir,” Patton said in his most sweetly placating voice. “Can I help you.”

“No.”

“Uh, I’m sorry sir, but this is a police station,” Patton said, keeping a smile on his face. “If you-”

“Dee!” Roman’s jovial voice said. He all but bolted across the office with his arms open as though to hug the grumpy man. ‘Dee’ put up a hand to stop him.

“This is not a social call. Where is Berry?”

Roman blinked. “We’re using last names today?” he asked. “Must be serious.”

“Roman,” the man warned.

“Chill,” Roman instructed and that was not the tone Patton would have used to attempt to calm the irritated man, but Dee didn’t immediately snap Roman’s neck so that was good, “we just went out for lunch and he went to park the car. He’ll be right behind me. Everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No.”

Roman put a hand on his shoulder, but then his thumb wandered, tracing softly across his collarbone. Patton raised an eyebrow. “Can I help?” he asked in a soothing tone.

The man batted his hand away. “Don’t do that.”

Roman’s frown almost edged on a pout. “Why not?”

“Because you are about to be so mad at me,” Dee spat.

Roman’s brow crinkled. “Why would I ever be mad at you, dear?” he asked fluttering his eyelashes.

“Stop it,” Dee complained, his face softening just a bit despite the harshness to his words, “stop that. If you actually want to be useful, find Patton Heart and have him wait outside of Logan’s office for us.”

“Um, I’m Patton actually,” Patton interjected with a little wave.

His eyes flicked up and down Patton. “Of course, you are.”

It was then that Logan entered the room, stripping off his coat as he went. He paused when he saw Dee with a slight frown. “Dee, what are you doing here?” Logan asked.

“I need to speak with you. In your office. Now.”

Logan bristled and crossed his arms. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Yeah, well you’re not going to appreciate what I have to say either,” Dee replied and then swept past him.

Logan gave Roman a questioning look. Roman just shrugged and Logan turned on his heels to follow Dee into his office with clipped footsteps.

“Um Roman,” Patton said when the door snapped shut behind them, “Who was that?”

“That was Dee,” Roman said, staring at the door in confusion. They could see the two men talking through the window in the door but couldn’t hear them. “He’s our husband.”

“He’s your other husband?” Patton asked. He knew of course about the illusive third man who was always out of town or busy, but the way they’d always talked about him made him seem… not that. “He seems…” Patton said.

“He’s not usually that grumpy,” Roman said and then paused in thought. “Okay, maybe he sort of is, but he has to spend most of time with my brother so it’s understandable. He’s definitely usually not that short with Logan or I though, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

It was then that the voices behind the door picked up a bit. First it was Logan’s voice, still just a bit too low to hear anything but the angry tone. Then…

“If you think that just because we’re married, I have to tell you everything I do at work, you are sorely mistaken!” Dee screamed.

“No! But you do have to tell me if it impacts my life!”

“Well dinner tonight’s gonna be fun…” Roman mumbled under his breath.

They continued to argue for a few more minutes; Patton and Roman could hear just bits of screaming every so often but nothing to give them a clue about what on Earth was going on.

Eventually Dee strutted out of the office, still clearly fuming, Logan hot on his heels. He didn’t even spare them a glance as he walked down the hallway.

Logan pressed his lips together, staring at his back with narrowed eyes before saying, “you two come too,” and taking off after him. Patton shared a glance with Roman before they followed after them.

They walked down the hall to some meeting room Patton had never been in before. Both Roman and Patton got to the open door at the same time and looked in. Dee was standing calmly with his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall and Logan was glaring at him from a few feet away. Yet neither of them is what took either Patton or Roman’s attention. No, their attention was taken by the man standing by the window. He wore a dark black hoody and his hair was slightly mussed probably from him wearing the hood. His hands were stuck casually in the hoody pocket and he gave Patton an awkward half smile.

“Hey,” Virgil said. Roman was immediately reaching for his gun. “Calm down Romano, I work for your husband.”

Roman rounded on Dee immediately. “He what?!”

“Yeah, yeah I know I’m sleeping on the couch,” Dee grumbled.

“On the porch more like,” Logan hissed.

“…Yep.”

“Thanks Dee,” Virgil said without looking at him.

“What can I say?” he grumbled, glancing at Logan, “I’m a romantic.” Logan responded with an even more intense glare in his direction.

Patton looked at Virgil and tapped his lips with a curious head tilt. Virgil immediately shook his head fervently. Patton nodded.

“And what exactly was that?” Logan asked suspiciously looking between them.

“Nothing,” they both said together.

Dee scoffed rolled his eyes. “He’s an undercover cop,” Dee told Patton. “Have fun with whatever that is. I’m going to go find a good divorce attorney.” He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and strode out of the room.

“Oh, you’re not getting out of this that easily,” Logan called after him. He turned back to Patton. “I am aware of Dee’s career so I can confirm this information.”

“You’re a cop?” Patton asked Virgil.

“I am,” he said.

“You’re not a murderer or torturer or drug dealer or anything else you were convicted for.”

“Nope,” he replied. “It was all a cover.”

“Well,” he laughed. “I’m not as bad of a judge of character as I thought then.”

“Again,” Logan said suspiciously, “what exactly are you talking about?”

“Come on, Lo,” Roman said. “Let’s make sure our husband knows he doesn’t actually need an attorney.” Logan mumbled something about ‘Last Will and Testament’ under his breath, but Roman just rolled his eyes and pulled him from the room.

Patton looked back at Virgil. “So, this is what you meant about coming back for me?” he asked.

“Yeah it is.”

“Oh,” he replied, biting his lips. He thought for a moment and then laughed. “Goodness, I got in your way a lot, didn’t I?”

“You were an actual thorn in my side,” Virgil confirmed with a chuckle.

“Sorry.”

“Eh don’t be. It’s just ‘cause you’re a good cop.”

“And you’re a good undercover cop,” Patton complimented rolling up onto his toes with his hands clasped behind his back. “It never even crossed my mind.”

He blushed and goodness that was adorable. Who knew he was adorable? “Yeah except for, you know, all of the arrests.”

“There were a lot of arrests,” Patton laughed.

“So. Many. Arrests,” Virgil replied. They smiled at each other. “Anyway.” He shuffled a bit awkwardly. “Your boss is busy either murdering or having makeup sex with my boss. So… do you want to get out of here?”

Patton grinned. “Sure,” he replied. Virgil offered his arm and Patton took it.

Thanks for reading!

If you were intrigued by the dynamic of Roman, Deceit, and Logan, I do have a fic set in this universe about how Roman met both Deceit and Logan called Mistaken Identities.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #moxiety #roloceit #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #roll the dice #roll the dice 5 #adriana writes #murder mentioned #guns mentioned #you i'll come back for #cops and not robbers au

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spaceskam · 5 years

Text

I Never Quite Let You Go

For @michaelguerinweek day 3: favorite michael dynamic (yes i stole this from the edit prompt, idk if this fits the fic prompt)

Summary: Everyone is struggling to deal with Michael and Rosa being friends.

ao3

Maria had no idea what she was going to find when she followed Michael’s hysterical directions.

It was all fine whenever he was playing the guitar and then he lost it. Something in him just snapped and he started freaking out, struggling to find his keys through his tears. Maria thought it was insane that he wanted to drive like that, but he insisted he had to go, so she offered to drive. Now, as they drove into the desert, she was regretting the offer.

She regretted it even more when he made her skid to a stop in a random place and jumped out while the car was still moving. She put the truck in park and ran after him, hoping to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid.

A cave came into sight that he was barrelling towards and was able to catch up just as they stumbled inside. Maria froze as she saw a giant purple-blue glow with none other than Max Evans inside. What the hell?

“Papi?” The voice was unmistakable and Maria was again thrust into shock as she turned towards it. Rosa stood alive and breathing with a blanket in lieu of clothing. Before she could make a move, Michael ran to her. Rosa seemed to have no caution for modesty as she wrapped him in her arms, pulling him down to tuck his head under her chin. “You’re so old and scruffy, what the fuck.”

“How are you alive?” Maria whispered and Rosa just smiled, opening an arm for her. Maria easily molded into the hug, not even bothering that Michael was just a blubbering mess as he clutched onto her. She gave him an arm around him as well.

None of the made any sense but she was willing to accept it if it meant Rosa was here and hugging her.

“I can’t believe you.”

“Excuse me?”

Isobel shook her head as she watched Michael sip his coffee, going back and forth between giving her full attention and texting Rosa. It was so strange seeing him actually having a normal friendship with someone. They’d both insisted they were close in high school, but just no one noticed. Isobel feels like she would’ve noticed and that now they were just being more open about it rather than sneaking around.

“For a decade, you thought I killed your friend and you never said anything,” Isobel scoffed, shaking her head. She tried not to focus on how bad it hurt that he never mentioned it and was never allowed to grieve properly because of it.

Michael shrugged as if it didn’t matter. It mattered. “Look, there was nothing I could do. I knew you weren’t in your right mind and since she was dead, you and Max were all I had left. I needed to protect you, I couldn’t put my own feelings first.”

Her chest felt a sharp pang and she looked down at her own coffee. She hated that she never noticed. God, how had she never noticed?

“Rosa, seriously?”

Liz couldn’t help but be confused as Rosa watched Michael bend over the hood of the old car he’d found for her.

“What?” she laughed, “He got hot.”

“I can’t believe I never knew you two were even friends, much less close enough that you let a white boy call you 'Mami’,” Liz scoffed, shaking her head. Rosa shrugged and tilted her head as if it would give her a better view of his ass in his faded jeans.

“I keep good company,” she said and a smile broke out on her face, “Besides, it’s really funny when he says it.”

“Mami!” Michael called as if on cue, coming closer with sweat dripping down his bare chest. Liz couldn’t help but cringe as she heard Rosa sigh happily. “I forgot to tell you, I heard some old lady talkin’ about you.”

The two women raised their eyebrows in intrigue. “Do tell.”

“Apparently, the similarity between Elena Valenti and Rosa Ortecho has not gone unnoticed,” he grinned, leaning over her chair. Liz scrunched up her nose as they got close without a thought. She hated when they did that. She felt like she was intruding even though they insisted it was nothing more than friendship. “Heard that there’s a big theory that there’s some affair in the Valenti bloodline. No one even thinks it’s fishy.”

“Then it looks like Alex’s idea is working,” Rosa mused. Michael smiled wider at the name.

“Are we surprised?” he asked before dropping a kiss to her head which caused a smile. “Gonna go shower.”

“Are you sure it’s platonic? You know you can tell me,” Liz said seriously once he disappeared into the airstream. Rosa groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, Liz, it’s nothing,” she insisted, “Michael is extremely into Alex and I have my eye on someone a little shorter and a little more woman. I think it’s bullshit that two people can’t be affectionate without it having to be something other than friendship.”

“I guess,” Liz said, though she still had her suspicions. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of the weird relationship between them. Still, Rosa shook her head.

“It’s not really a guess situation, Liz. That’s how it was when he was 16 and had never had anyone touch him that wasn’t violent. He deserves someone who doesn’t have ulterior motives and I don’t,” Rosa insisted, “Besides, I don’t have to defend my friendship.” Liz nodded despite remaining skeptical.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“Get out!”

“I am too fucking old to be thrown out of a girl’s bed by her dad, Valenti! Fuck off!”

Kyle was fuming as he watched Rosa laugh and Guerin hold a pillow over his head. All he was doing was trying to do his brotherly duties and wake her up so she wouldn’t be late for work, but he instead found her in bed with Guerin which was absolutely not okay. Rosa had no pants on and Guerin had no shirt or pants on and he did not approve.

“She is too young for you! She is 19! Get out!” Kyle yelled again, snatching the pillow away from him. Guerin made a face, rolling over.

“He literally stays over all the time, Kyle, calm down,” Rosa laughed. That did not calm him down.

“She is nineteen, Guerin!”

“We’re not fucking, holy shit.”

“You’re half-naked in her bed!”

“It’s 102 degrees outside!”

“I don’t care! Doesn’t give you the right to be in bed with a teenage girl!”

“I didn’t do anything! And if I did, multiple people, including my boyfriend, would probably skin me alive so leave me alone!” Guerin shouted, crossing his arms over his head. “And, by the way, no one said anything when she was 18 and I was barely 16 and sleeping half-naked in her bed, so I feel like there’s some double standards here!” Rosa pouted in adoration, reaching out to rub his back.

“You alright, Papi? Bad wake up call?” she cooed. Guerin simply whined in response. Kyle was about to lose it. “Also I’m technically 30, so…” Rosa said, giving him a wild smile. Kyle huffed and turned to storm out.

He was going to tell Alex about this.

“They’re friends, Kyle.”

“I’m annoyed by how calm you are.”

Alex chuckled, closing his laptop and sliding it into his backpack. He and Michael were going very slow and working their way to being solid friends before they did anything too crazy. They had had a long in-depth talk about how they wanted to go about things after Rosa and Maria had pressured Michael into making them actually talk. After that, it was super easy for Alex to stop feeling like either of them were a threat. Not that he liked that he felt that way in the first place, but he will admit that he did.

“They’re both consenting adults on top of it. Even without her literally dying, she’s almost 20 and she’s been through a lot. I think they’re good for each other,” Alex decided. At first, their relationship was a little uncomfortable, but Alex was probably the first one to realize that they related on a level Michael was lacking. It was good for him.

“I don’t like it, she’s my sister and he’s… Guerin,” Kyle said, looking disgusted. Alex smiled, shaking his head.

“He’s not that bad.”

“I don’t trust your judgment when it comes to him,” Kyle said. Alex shook his head, but let him continue to ramble. “He called you his boyfriend by the way.”

“Yeah?” Alex asked, a small smile pulling at his lips. They hadn’t really given anything a title, but they had agreed not to see anyone else while they tried to work with each other. The fact that he was considering a boyfriend made him feel a bit better.

“See, this is why I don’t trust your judgment!”

When Alex got home that night, he found both Michael and Rosa on his couch which had become pretty common these days. Alex had missed Rosa a lot, she was the first person to make him feel like he could be himself and say fuck it to whatever other people thought. He found it funny that while she was being that person for him, she was also that person for Michael. They could’ve so very easily been together earlier if Rosa’s two worlds had collided for a moment.

“I heard Kyle tried to throw you out this morning,” Alex chuckled, easily falling onto the couch between them.

“Which is why we’re on your couch and not his,” Michael noted. Alex smiled, shaking his head as Rosa tucked herself into his side.

“You’re just in time, though, ‘cause Papi made popcorn and it’s spooky movie season,” Rosa stated. Alex relaxed deeper into the couch with a nod, hearing his front door lock itself with the assistance of Michael’s brain. When Alex looked to him, his eyes went from Alex’s shoulder and back to his eyes. Alex threw his arm around the back of the couch and Michael took it as a go-ahead.

Alex ended up smashed in between the two of them, feeling each of them jump when lame scares would come on the screen. It was oddly comforting and he decided that this could become his normal and he didn’t think he’d mind.

Actually, he believed he loved it.

#mgweek19 #guerinweek19 #michael & rosa #michael & rosa fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #rosa ortecho #rosa ortecho fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic

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bel0vedmendes · 5 years

Text

Inevitable : AU Part 3

BrothersFriend!Shawn x Reader

Words:3,238

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Smoking, Mentions of sex, leetle spicy moment.

Description: When Jason left, he made Shawn (his best friend) promise to keep a watchful eye on Y/N. He swears that we will. Along with the help of Brian and Kyle, he keeps his promise. As Y/n gets older the dynamic of their relationship begins to change. Will they figure out what they mean to each other or will Shawn always see her as his best friend’s little sister?

A/N: Part 1 and 2 are in my masterlist! Please, please, please let me know what you think, any feedback is appreciated <3

The next few weeks were crazy. The boys did everything in their power to make my transition to their college party house bearable. I had to get used to random people coming over at who knows what time. Eventually I got used to the fact that the house wasn’t going to be super clean- like ever. My room was the exception, and it was off limits to everyone but me. I would have to ask them ahead of time, if I needed a quiet house. They did what they could to accommodate. It was nice though. Anytime I needed help with homework they were always willing. They might party a lot, but they aren’t stupid by any means.

Things with Sam have escalated pretty quickly. He started texting me the day after the party. The boys hated him, especially Shawn. They promised me that his intentions were to have sex, and that he would hurt me. They kept saying ‘we know guys like Sam!’, and I would roll my eyes every time. They didn’t know him, hell, I didn’t even know him that well. I told them that they would just have to let me make my own mistakes. Brian and Kyle dropped it from that point on, and Shawn did too for the most part. He would still mock me when I would mention Sam at all.

Every Tuesday night we would have a game night. We would all invite our close friends and play games and drink. It was a way of hanging out that didn’t cost a fortune and didn’t turn into a huge party. I knew when I invited Sam, the boys would be pissed. I had to get them used to it though. So I invited Sam and a few of my girlfriends to distract Kyle and Brian. Plus, I knew Shawn was bringing his lovely girlfriend. Which made me want to invite Sam even more. I made it a point not to analyze what that might mean.

I put on a cute olive colored t shirt dress, with a plaid wrapped around the waist. Simple but cute enough to make Sam want more. As I sat in front of my mirror putting on my makeup, I thought about what I wanted from Sam. I knew that I liked him, and I knew that I thought he was extremely attractive. I didn’t necessarily want to have sex with him but part of me wanted to. I had sex with my first boyfriend ever when I was 16, and it was so anti-climactic. No pun intended. It lasted about 2 minutes and I didn’t feel anything but uncomfortable. I knew it was supposed to feel different, and I wanted to experience that.

People started to show up and I instantly noticed that it was more people than usual for our game nights. I find Brian and Kyle outside the house, talking to a group of girls.

“Guys, what the fuck? Why are so many people here?” I ask pulling Brian to the side.

“These ladies are in town visiting, I met them this morning. I told them we were having a party tonight.” He explains, barely making eye contact with me. His eyes wandering over the group of girls beside me. I huff and go back inside to text Sam and my friends so they knew what to expect. As I waited patiently for my friends to arrive, Shawn and Jessica walked into the house. Shawn making a beeline for me.

“No Sam?” He mocked, earning a tired look from me.

“He’s on his way actually,” I smile at him sarcastically.

“Wonderful,” He says raising his brows. Jessica instantly wraps her arms around his middle. I look away immediately remembering their fight from the last party. The last thing I wanted her to think was that I wanted Shawn. I gnaw on the inside of my lip, as I try to forget the things they said to each other in that fight. Constantly being reminded that I truly didn’t know how I felt about Shawn, and that was the stressful part. My overthinking brain managed to tell my feet to take me to the fridge. I found my special pack of beer that everyone hated but I loved. They always bought a pack for me and wrote my name on it in Sharpie. It made me feel so special. 7 beers later I was feeling it. My friends showed up after my second beer, causing me to drink more than I had wanted to before Sam arrived. We were all dancing in a group in the kitchen, when I felt arms wrap around my waist. I turned around quickly, thinking it was one of the boys- hoping for it to be one specifically. Sam’s bright eyes peering down at me, he was drunk. I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck hugging him tightly. His hands slide down to my ass grabbing tightly, making my cheeks turn another shade of red. All of the people watching in the room start notice as he gets a little too handsy. I watch Shawn pull Jessica closer as he eyes Sam down, lifting his beer to his lips as he glares at him. I chuckle pushing him away a little, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Slow down buddy,” I laugh as his lips attack my neck. I slowly push him away, finally realizing how drunk he really was. I was tipsy too, but nowhere near his level.

“You’re so fucking hot babe, I can’t get enough,” He says biting his lip, tucking my hair behind my ear. Just as he’s about to lean in for his second attack on my neck. I hear my name being called from the front room. I introduce Sam to my friends, telling them to talk for a second while I figure out why I’m being called. I immediately find Shawn waiting for me, I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion. Of course I knew what this was going to be about, I chose to play coy.

“Can we talk outside for a second?” he asks, his tone flat. I nod my head following him outside. We sit on the old swing set that was left here when the boys bought the house. They never cared enough to get rid of it.

I start to swing back and forth, giving him the time he needed to start his rant.

“I cant watch you do this,” He scolded, his jaw tight and his leg rocking up and down quickly. I shake my head, annoyed that my every move was being analyzed.

“Don’t watch then,” I snap, as I start to head back inside. His hand finding my wrist and pulling me back towards him as he stands up.

“Listen,” He starts, holding my wrist tight like he always does when he wants me to take him seriously. “you know I’m just looking out for you, I always have-“

“My best interest at heart, I know,” I mock, cutting him off. I shake his hands off of my wrist, and for the first time I’m pissed at him.

“Shawn. You don’t get to make decisions for me anymore, okay?”

I don’t want to be mad at him. I don’t want to yell at him, but he doesn’t get input on everything in my life.

“Y/N, I’m not deciding anything for you! You’re rushing things, and that guy is a scum bag,” He shouts at me, instantly causing me to step back because he’s never yelled at me before.

I scream back at him, feeling tears start to sting my eyes. “You’ve got a lot to say for someone who lets his girlfriend walk all over him!”

“Don’t bring her into this, that had nothing to do with you!” He scoffs and I start to laugh mockingly.

“Nothing to do with me? Good to know! How about you stay in your fucking lane then! Mind your own business,” I spit at him, spinning on my heal to walk away from him before I said anything else.

“You know he’s a piece of shit, y/n. Why the fuck are you pretending like he’s some God,” He laughs at me, which instantly pisses me off even more.

“I don’t know Shawn, why do you pretend like Princess Jessica is the best thing that’s ever happened to you? How about you let me make my mistakes, and I’ll let you make yours. Sound good?” I fumed in voice that came out calmer than expected. I immediately turned away, walking to the inside. I instantly find my special case of beer, opening a bottle and chugging it in a record time. Then another, and another. Next thing I know I’m sitting on Sam’s lap in the living room watching my best friends dance to the overly loud music. Sam’s lips are ghosting over my ear, nibbling my neck. I giggle pretending to me completely enveloped in his presence but every time I look up, I’m looking for Shawn. I catch him staring a few times, but eventually he catches on to my game and starts to play too. He starts to mimic what Sam is doing to me, kissing Jessica on the neck. Each of us one upping each other, our partners in the dark about our little game. My friends take my hands pulling me into their circle, making me momentarily forget about our game. Until I realize this is the perfect opportunity to win. They decide to change the song to one me and my friends knew well. One we liked to dance around to in our rooms, and just happened to be perfect for the exact situation I was in. The familiar melody of Ariana Grande ‘Dangerous Woman’ instantly making all of the girls in the house scream. I peak over at Shawn and notice that his eyes are on me. I start to walk over to the blonde eyeing me down from the chair in the corner of the room. Focusing on making each movement slow and sultry. I mouth the words as I approach him, gaining an audience as I do.

“Don't need permission.

Made my decision to test my limits

'Cause it's my business…” I sing quietly as I approach the mesmerized blonde.

Placing one leg on each side of him. The song plays on and the chorus speeds up and I start to grind on the boy in front of me, earning a room full of encouragement.

“Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't..”

Normally I would run and hide at this kind of attention but the alcohol coursing through my veins and the need to defy the boy across the room made me stay. His hands start to reach out to take hold of my hips, then the music suddenly stops. I quickly flick my head in the direction of the speaker instantly greeted by a red faced Shawn, he was pissed.

“Party’s over, everyone out,” He yells, not breaking eye contact with me. I slowly smirk, at him as I sit on Sam’s lap. He shakes his head at me immediately walking over to the boys whispering something that makes them both glare at me and the boy who was under me. Then he and Jessica leave the party along with the rest of people. I finally snap back to the reality of the situation. Sam’s whispering the list of things he wants to do to me in my ear. I scold myself mentally because I made him think that way. I did like him though, and I was seriously attracted to him. Part of me just wished that it wasn’t all initiated because I was trying to make Shawn jealous. He takes my hand and we head to my bedroom. He pushes me against the back of my bed room door, sucking small bruises onto my neck. I moan loud, trying to force myself to stop thinking about what had happened with Shawn. I didn’t want to win anything, I don’t know why I did that. As guilty as I felt, I was still pissed at him. He had no right to say the things he said to me, and that was that. Sam’s fingers find my jaw, he makes me face him. He smiles at me before kissing me hard. Pulling back to look at me with his beautiful drunken blue eyes again.

“You’re so sexy, babe.” He says, making me smile.

From that point I force myself to be in this moment with him. I want to see where it goes. Next thing I know, he’s taking my dress off over my head, and I’m taking his shirt off. He picks me up and throws me on the bed, and starts to do some amazing things with his tongue between my legs. Then we had sex. It was way better than the last time. It felt good, it all felt so good. My body loved everything he was doing to me, but my head wasn’t into it. I couldn’t help but notice how emotionally unattached I was from him the entire time.

Maybe I had watched too many romantic comedies in my day, but I expected to feel more than just an orgasm. As I laid next to him in my bed, with his arm draped over my naked stomach, I decided that I would give it more time. The other feelings could come eventually, right? I fell asleep telling myself that I would feel that way eventually the more I got to know him, even though I knew it was a lie.

______________________________________________________________

It had been weeks since the last party, I had cut down on drinking substantially after seeing the videos of me dancing. Sam and I have hooked up three more times since that night, and now he calls me his girlfriend. It feels good to have attention from someone like him, but I’m still working on connecting to him emotionally. Everyday it seems to be a little harder to do. Especially since Shawn and I still haven’t really talked since that night. We talk in passing when we need to but he avoids me at all cost. I finally got to talk to Jason about everything. He sounded so happy on the phone so I didn’t want to annoy him with me petty relationship problems and stupid head games. We just talked about the stupid shit that happens living in a house with his best friends. He really did love that I decided to live with them, Shawn was right about that.

That’s all I can think about still. Even while I’m trying to study for the mid-term I have on Friday, all I can think about is how Shawn hates me. Thankfully I’m pulled from my thoughts as Kyle yells that my friend is here. Gabriella showed up with beer in hand for the thirsty boys. Kyle was leaning against the door frame, his voice was smooth and suave in his attempt to flirt. I start laughing from behind them, causing Gabby to laugh too. Kyle turns around scrunching his eyebrows together, of course he didn’t see anything wrong.

“Maybe if you let her inside, things might work better for you.” I say sarcastically watching the blush rise in his cheeks as he rolls his eyes at me. Gabriella smiled at him, letting him know that she still thought the attempt was cute.

“I figured you could use a study break.” She says as she pulls out tacos from my favorite taco joint.

“Oh my God, I love you.” I gush instantly grabbing one of the tacos and devouring it. She knew me well. She knew I probably hadn’t eaten all day because of the studying, but she also knew how stressed I was about Shawn avoiding me. As if he knew he was being thought of Shawn walked into the kitchen, looking me over and giving me a tight lipped smile before going to find Brian. I set my food down taking a deep breath, suddenly remember why I didn’t have an appetite to begin with.

“Still haven’t talked?” Gabriella whispered as she scrolled through her phone, waiting for me to finish eating. I gently shake my head, not wanting to use words. She nods her head, understanding that I didn’t want to talk about it. As if the smell of the tacos pulled them into the room, within minutes my two roommates were hovering over me, begging for my leftovers. Shawn follows them standing against the sink as they fight over the food. My eyes find his and I know that he feels the same way as me, I need to apologize. Even though I still feel like he over stepped, the things I said were cruel and I would never normally say those things out loud- even if it is how I truly felt.

“You talked to Jay?” Brian asks as cheese from his taco falls from his mouth.

“Yeah, why?” I tilt my head looking at Shawn, knowing he was the one with the questions.

“Did he tell you if he was coming to your Dad’s Wedding?” Brian questions, interrupting my gaze that was locked on the curly headed boy.

“Yeah, he said he’ll probably be able to make it.” I smile, looking up at Shawn as he started to grin, I knew he missed Jason just as much as I did.

After 30 minutes of listening to the boys talk about what they were going to do when Jason came home, they finally retired to the living room to play Mario Cart. Kyle stole Gabriella from me claiming that they needed another player so it would be even. We all knew he just wanted to be around her. I stayed in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from the boys. I smiled to myself as I listened to them yell at each other. The feeling of nostalgia was intense. This was the sound I heard every weekend in my basement until Jason moved away. I started to get emotional thinking about it. Suddenly Shawn’s voice snapped me out of my flashback.

“I wont go if you don’t want me to.” He said with a low voice, standing against the door frame.

“Shawn, its fine. You should come.” I said with a smile, still wiping the counter down with a wash rag.

“It’s your Dad. I don’t need to come, I know you don’t like Jessica so..” He starts to ramble.

“No, listen, I shouldn’t have said anything about you and Jessica. It’s not my place. I’m sorry.” I apologized, looking up at him with sincere regret in my eyes.

“I fucked up too, I just want to see you happy.” He mumbles with half a smile. I immediately start to hug him, missing the feeling of his arms around my waist and the smell of his cologne.

Then that was that. We joined the rest of the group in the living room. Gabriella giving me a knowing look, because she knew Shawn and I had made amends. I knew that Shawn still didn’t approve of whatever Sam and I had going on, he never would. He was also well aware that I would never be bff’s with Jessica. It was something we were both going to have to accept.

Taglist: @within-nd-without, @hollymollymomsravioli

@peterbrokenparker @alinashawn

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDEDDDDD :)

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes au

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hungline · 5 years

Text

are you staying or going?

pairing: taegi genre: angst, fwb au, rated m warnings: referenced sexual content a/n: written to fill my missed bus square for @thereallyhappeningtaegibingo words: 3000

summary: Taehyung needed to leave. He had to go. Yoongi didn’t love him and Taehyung couldn’t stand it anymore.

⇢ part two of love blossoms in winter

It was cold. The air hung frigid and Taehyung couldn’t feel the tip of his nose or most of his fingers.

He held a suitcase in one hand and the straps of his bulging backpack in the other. A duffel bag was slung across his shoulder and he was bundled up in the warmest winter wear he owned. His bus tickets were flimsy pieces of paper in his pocket, but he still found himself hunching in on himself to appease the heavy weight they had.

He was leaving. He wasn’t going to come back.

Yoongi would probably throw a fit and try to find Taehyung once he left, but Taehyung would be long gone by then. There was nothing Yoongi could do about it once Taehyung left. The elder was still at work, probably barely clocking out and getting ready to go home. Home where Taehyung wouldn’t be waiting for him because Taehyung was instead waiting for the bus that would take him back to Daegu.

His dream had been a warning. Yoongi would leave him once he knew that Taehyung was more invested in their dynamic than the elder wanted him to be. Taehyung was going to end up with a broken heart and it was best that he break things off first.

It hurt. It hurt like hell, but it was for the best. It was the best for Taehyung. He’d be okay, with time. He theorized it would take him a few months (read as: a few years) before he could look into the eyes of another man and not see traces of Yoongi, but Taehyung would be okay.

It was for the best.

Taehyung needed to leave. He had to go. Yoongi didn’t love him and Taehyung couldn’t stand it anymore.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and tucked in his chin to bury the lower half of his face into his scarf. November was a cold month in Busan. Taehyung had moved here to live with his best friend Jimin, who’d coaxed the newly graduated Taehyung towards the sea. Things had been fine for the first few months. He and Jimin both had stable jobs, they paid rent and the bills on time, and Jimin didn’t sexile Taehyung as much as he had in college. Then Taehyung had moved in with Yoongi after Jimin started seeing Hoseok on the regular. Two years together and they were still happy. Taehyung was glad that Jimin was happy and that Hoseok was good to his Jiminnie because God forbid anybody hurt Taehyung’s best friend.

Hoseok and Jimin were fine thoughーmore than fine reallyーand Jimin pretty much hated Yoongi by this point. But Yoongi was also Hoseok’s best friend and Taehyung’s roommate-slash-fuck-buddy-slash-love-of-his-life. So Jimin grumbled under his breath about Yoongi and always made sure to reassure Taehyung that he had a warm bed to sleep in at Jimin’s place. Taehyung would have appreciated the offer more if Jimin didn’t always mention it specifically when Yoongi was present.

It really wasn’t Yoongi’s fault that Taehyung had broken their agreement on just having sex and not developing feelings. It couldn’t really be Yoongi’s fault that Taehyung loved the way the elder smelled fresh out of the shower or how he smelled when he got home from work or even the way he smelled during sex. It couldn’t be Yoongi’s doing that Taehyung could count on his hands every time the elder slurred his words together or when his Daegu accent made an appearance. And it definitely couldn’t be Yoongi’s fault that Taehyung liked to baby him, snuggle up against him, handle him with care as if he was glass, and, at other times, just want to be in Yoongi’s presence.

It was Taehyung’s fault for noticing things, for wanting to do things, for feeling things when Yoongi had made it very clear he wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship that wasn’t purely about sex. He and Yoongi were friends of course, and Taehyung knew that Yoongi cared about him, but not in the way that Taehyung cared about him and not in the way that Taehyung wanted Yoongi to care about him. It was Taehyung’s fault for falling in love.

Right?

A bus pulled into the station and Taehyung watched the passengers disembark, swaddled up in their jackets and coats and gloves. It wasn’t Taehyung’s bus, his wasn’t due for another twenty or thirty minutes. He probably should have found a bench to sit on and wait, but he knew if he sat down then he’d curl up into a ball and wail in the middle of the cold bus station. Drawing attention to himself was not what Taehyung needed. He needed to leave quietly and quickly. His time in Busanーhis time with Yoongiーwas over and it was best he left.

He’d miss Jimin and Hoseok and he’d miss the eight year old neighbor Joonie (and Joonie’s young fathers, Seokjin and Jeongguk), but having to hide how he felt was torture and Taehyung knew it was best that he go. Plus, it’d be unfair of Taehyung to drive Yoongi out of his own home. The quaint little house they lived in was Yoongi’s, Taehyung had moved in with Yoongi. Why should Yoongi be the one to leave when the house was his and not Taehyung’s? Taehyung should go.

Taehyung let out a sigh and watched the last of the passengers step off the bus. It was cold, but that didn’t stop him from stopping a mother and her daughter to offer his scarf to the little girl when he saw just how pale she looked compared to the redness of her nose.

The little girl thanked him in a high and croaky rasp. The mother smiled at him and bowed her head before she led her daughter towards the bathrooms on the other end of the station. Taehyung watched them, still crouched down and eyes enraptured with the swing of the mother’s bag and the swish of the young girl’s hair. His lumpy backpack laid beside him on the ground, where he’d put it down so he could take off his scarf for the girl, and his duffel bag was on the verge of slipping off his shoulder, but Taehyung remained in his position.

The mother and daughter entered the bathroom and Taehyung blinked as the door swung behind them, giving him one last glance of the girl’s long dark hair.

“You’re too kind, you know that?” A voice sounded behind him.

Taehyung looked over his shoulder and winced.

“She looked cold,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Yeah, and now you’re going to get cold and probably get sick and then I’ll have to be your personal nurse until you recover.”

Taehyung shrugged and let his gaze fall back down to the ground. “Doesn’t matter. S’not a big deal.”

“So then tell me what is a big deal.”

“I don’t know what you mean, hyung.”

“Something has to be a big deal for you if you’re trying to leave me.”

Taehyung stood up, grabbing his backpack and readjusting his duffel bag as he did. “Nothing is a big deal, don’t make this about you, hyung.”

Yoongi bristled, his hands curled by his sides, practically swimming in the huge coat that he wore almost everywhere during the winter. “How can this not be about me? You packed all your stuff and left without even a goodbye note. What else am I supposed to do if not ponder over whether your leaving is because of something I did or said?”

Taehyung sighed and walked over to the nearest bench, curling a hand in Yoongi’s direction for the elder to follow him. They sat down, Yoongi still fuming but ready to listen and Taehyung anxious. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to find him. Taehyung was supposed to leave quickly and quietly and his bus would be arriving soon, but Yoongi was in front of him pissed off and upsetーnot a good combination for someone like the elder.

“How did you find me?” Taehyung asked first.

Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you leaving?”

“I asked you a question first, hyung.”

“Technically, I did and I’m still waiting for my answer. So speak up. You’re not leaving until you give me a good reason.”

“You can’t keep me somewhere I don’t want to be. That’s kidnapping, hyung, and it’s illegal,” Taehyung pointed out.

Yoongi uncrossed his arms and took Taehyung’s hands in his. “Then tell me why you don’t want to be here anymore. I want to understand what went wrong.”

Taehyung looked down at their joined hands and felt his brows scrunch together in concern when he noticed Yoongi didn’t have gloves on. Taehyung pulled his hands away to dig through his backpack until he found his spare pair of mittens and handed them to the elder. Yoongi took them silently, his expression guarded, and bottom lip caught in between his teeth. Taehyung looked away from the elder’s mouth when the urge to kiss him ran through his mind. Yoongi noticed and some color rose to his cheeks, but he didn’t comment on it and instead took Taehyung’s hands in his again.

Yoongi touching him was nice, it’d always been nice, but now that Taehyung was trying to leave, Yoongi touching him was a mix of nice and painful. All Taehyung wanted to do was lean in and kiss Yoongi square on the mouth, but Taehyung was going. Yoongi didn’t love him and Taehyung was set on leaving.

“Why are you leaving, Tae-yah? Did I do something? Is it the sex? Are you not satisfied with our sex life?” Yoongi asked, his voice sounding smaller and smaller with each question.

Taehyung stared at the elder, appalled. “What are you talking about? The sex is fine, it’s greatーit’s amazing, oh my god. Why would you think sex is the problem?”

It was true. Sex with Yoongi had always been an experience, but it wasn’t enough. Taehyung wanted more than sex. He wanted what Yoongi didn’t.

He wanted love.

“You take longer to come now. You always insist on going slow, but I was right. There is a problem and you still haven’t told me what it is.”

“There is no problem. I’m just sick of Busan. I’m sick of everyone being so happy all the time and in love and having families and being normal,” Taehyung exclaimed, pausing to take a deep breath before he continued. “I’m going back to Daegu. My grandma has my old room ready and I’m gonna help her and Grandpa out on the farm. I’m going to try and live my life where I have the chance of falling in love and starting a family and beingーbeing happy with someone. I’m not going to find that here, so I’m leaving. I’m sorry, hyung.”

The elder’s face was pale once more, all the color having been drained from it as he bit his lip again. “But I...I thought that was w-what we were uhーworking on.”

Taehyung froze. “What?”

Yoongi wrung his mittened hands together. “Tae-yah. I thought we were going to have that. You talk about it in your sleep all the time, sometimes drunk too.”

The younger blinked. “Again, what?”

Yoongi let his hands fall into his lap. “You said you loved me. Was that a lie?”

“When did I say this?”

“I don’t know, maybe four or five months ago. You were asleep and I’d gotten home late after a recording session. Iー” Yoongi hesitated, bit his lip, then shook his head and continued. “I went into your room to check on you and you were rolling around the bed muttering about dogs. When I sat on the bed beside you, you took my hand and said you loved me then rolled over and started talking about jellyfish.”

Taehyung’s brain was malfunctioning because Yoongi had not just said what Taehyung thought he’d said. Yoongi hadn’t heard Taehyung sleeptalking and Taehyung had not under any circumstances accidentally confessed about his love for Yoongi. The elder was just playing a joke or something on Taehyung to make him stay. But Taehyung needed to leaveーhe had to.

“I thought you were awake and, uh, well I was shocked. I couldn’t believe you’d just confessed to me then started arguing with yourself about the average lifespan of jellyfish, but then I realized you were asleep so I just pegged it as dream gibberish.

“Then you did it again two nights later. Whispered it into my ear when I thought you’d fallen asleep ‘cause of how intense your snoring was. You turned over and went right back to snoring. I was less hesitant to think of it as nothing and when you just kept saying it, I couldn’t deny that you meant it. You even murmured it into my skin once after sex, quiet enough that I could barely hear it, but you were awake, Tae-yah. You weren’t asleep, you were awake and coming down from your orgasm and you smelled likeーgod, you smelled like heaven. But you were awake and you said you loved me and do y-you not love me anymore? Is that why you’re trying to leave?”

Taehyung said nothing. He wasn’t sure that he was actually capable of speaking coherent words, let alone sentences. He was still trying to wrap his head around Yoongi knowing that he loved him and still staying with him, not running away like Taehyung had always imagined. Yoongi knew and he’d stayedーwas still there and waiting for Taehyung to say something already.

“You knew?” Taehyung rasped out, his eyes staring at nothing and his throat dry.

Yoongi nodded. “I think I’ve always known.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” How was Taehyung even able to speak without air?

“I didn’t want to freak you out. I wanted you to tell me on your own terms when you were ready to tell me, but I guess I did something wrong since you don’t want to stay with me anymore.”

Taehyung blinked and cupped Yoongi’s face in his hands. “Stop blaming yourself. I’m being dumb and stupid and emotionally constipated and cowardly by trying to run away. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me.”

Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I’m being serious, hyung. You didn’t do anything wrong. Of course, I-I still love you. Oh my god, why do you think I’m trying to leave? I love you, but you don’t love me and it’s killing me, hyung. It hurts so much knowing you don’t feel the same.”

Taehyung felt kind of hollow now. He’d thought he’d kept his feelings for Yoongi a secret, but Yoongi knew, had known for months and said nothing about it. Taehyung had imagined that if he ever did get the chance to tell the elder that he was in love with him, it would be in a different, more positive setting, but he supposed it didn’t matter much since his bus was going to get there any minute.

Yoongi put his hands over Taehyung’s and looked up into the younger’s eyes, his face pale and wind bitten, but a spark of something in his eyes that made Taehyung jumpy. “I never said I didn’t love you.”

Taehyung froze as his brain malfunctioned once again.

“I told you, I was waiting until you were ready to talk about it before I mentioned anything. I’ve been fucking and living with you for almost a year, how am I not supposed to fall in love with you during that time?”

“But you saidー”

“I know what I said, Taehyung-ah. I know very well every fucking thing I said and you should know that I don’t mean any of it. I haven’t meant any of it for months now. Sex with you is great, but coming home to you making dinner or cleaning or making a mess or just watching TV is better because you’re waiting for me and knowing I have someone to come home to is infinitely times better than sex.”

“Yoongi-hyunー”

The elder surged forward and pressed his chapped lips to Taehyung’s. They were soft and gentle and Taehyung knew he was royally screwed. He couldn’t leave, not after this, not with knowing that Yoongi is it for him. Taehyung is in love with Yoongi and no force on Earth could change that fact. It was probably written in Taehyung’s DNA to love Yoongi and he was such a fool for believing that he could leave and everything would be fine. Life would have been miserable without Yoongi and Taehyung is honestly an idiot for thinking that he could go back to Daegu and act like everything was fine, act like he’d never met or fallen in love with Yoongi, because he had and the grip Yoongi had on him wasn’t going to loosen any time soon.

Yoongi pulled back from their kiss and let his forehead rest against Taehyung’s. His eyes were closed and Taehyung tried to count the elder’s eyelashes. His hands were still atop the younger’s, but now they were strangely threaded together.

“I love you, Taehyung. I know I’m late, but it’s true. I love you. Please don’t leave,” Yoongi murmured.

Taehyung kissed the elder’s nose and closed his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, hyung. I love you too much to leave.”

“Good.”

A thought struck Taehyung then. “I’d still like to know how you found me though.”

Yoongi chuckled and Taehyung grinned at the sound. “I came home early and saw that your stuff was gone so I tracked your phone with ‘Find my iPhone.’ Knowing your password helped a lot too.”

A bus honked near the curb. Taehyung ignored it.

“You’re unbelievable, hyung.”

“Shut up. Are you staying or going?”

The bus honked again, but Taehyung stayed put.

“I love you.”

“I love you just as much.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Oh, shut up and let’s go home. I’m freezing!” Yoongi complained.

Taehyung ended up missing his bus.

#taegi #vsuga #bangtan bookclub #kwordsmiths #prettyboysnetwork #btsguild #betareadernet #bts #angst #p:yoongi/taehyung #f:aysog?#s:lbiw #m: fic

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urdearestmom · 6 years

Text

I Love You A Latte

so ao3 won’t let me post this for some reason. I’ve been working on it for about five months and it’s probably trash but here is this monster, the longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!!!!!!!!!

i’d like to dedicate it to @robynhoots because she loves mileven just as much as i do and also @fatechica because her 27k chapters of solely quality content inspire me :DD thanks ladies!!!!!

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. The redheaded girl and the tall guy, pushing each other through the entry and glaring. It's a regular occurrence, so she knows that's just how they are and not that they're about to punch each other out or something. El turns away to wipe down the counter, trying to avoid staring at the couple as they head to a table and spread out their belongings. She can admit that she low-key has a crush on the dude, but he's clearly another girl's boyfriend and she's not going to get herself in the way of that. It's just a crush, after all.

He comes up to the counter and awkwardly smiles at her. The pair always comes at this time, when this particular Starbucks isn't very busy, so there's no one else working the register and machines.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" El asks. She always feels a little bit like her feet are about to lift off the ground from nerves whenever Mike comes to order instead of his girlfriend. He's so tall it should be intimidating, but it only would be if he was thicker. As it is, he's a walking bundle of twigs with a mop of dark hair on top. For some reason, El finds it attractive. She thinks he's just about the cutest guy she's ever seen: dark hair, dark eyes, a face splashed with freckles. She just wishes he wasn't already taken.

"A tall iced coffee with milk and a grande chai latte for Mike and Max, please," he answers, pulling his wallet out.

"Don't get my order wrong!" Calls the redhead from their seats, smirking.

Mike rolls his eyes and huffs exasperatedly. "I've never gotten her order wrong in my life," he says, looking at El and shaking his head.

She plasters on her customer service smile and replies, "That'll be six eighty-nine, please."

They've been coming in since before she even started working there, El thinks. At least, her manager told her that Mike and Max had been regulars for a long time when she asked. So they've been together for a while. El's kind of envious, not just because she thinks Mike is cute, but because they seem like the type of couple everyone wants to be. They're confident together, and they look happy. Well, sometimes. Most of the time one of them is ribbing the other while their partner fumes. A lot of the time they come in just for drinks and a study session, spreading out books and laptops across wherever they've decided to sit that day, and they'll spend hours sitting across from each other without saying a word. She's never seen them kiss or hold hands or anything of the sort, but El figures maybe they're just not into PDA (which would suck for her if they were).

Their relationship is actually kind of aggressive. Whenever El's not super busy (which is always), she likes to watch them, and she's noticed that Max seems to like hostile physical interaction. She slaps Mike upside the head or punches him in the arm a lot, and sometimes she even kicks him, but he always retaliates by either pulling her hair or with a slew of sharp words. It's an interesting dynamic, and El wonders if she weren't so shy, would she have been able to make friends with them? She kind of wants to. God knows she needs friends; this is her third year in college and she barely has any.

It's on one day, when Max comes in alone, that El decides that she's going to talk to her. It's less of a task without Mike there because he makes her nervous, and Max seems like the type of girl who'd be open to a conversation. She's also in one of El's sociology classes, so that could be something to talk about.

The redhead is leaning against the end of the counter as El makes her regular chai latte, blowing strands of hair out of her face. El takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to speak before she loses her courage. "So, what are you studying?"

Max jerks back to attention. "Sorry, what?"

El gulps. "Um, what- what are you studying? You know, like, what are you in college for?"

"Oh," Max says, nodding. "I'm in marketing."

"That's cool," El answers, turning off the machine before passing off the cup to the other girl. "You like it?"

Max rips open a packet of sugar. "It's fine, I guess. Never really what I pictured myself doing, growing up, but I'm here and I'm not bored and I don't hate it," she replies, pouring the sugar in. "What about you?"

El takes a quick look around the store, noting that there are no new customers. "Developmental psych, but sociology minor. You enjoying Tepperman's class?"

Max's eyes widen. "I knew I recognized you! Ellen, right?"

"Eleanor, actually," El says, smiling. "Old nickname, it's my middle name. It stuck."

Max smiles back. "Hey, I don't wanna take you away from your job or anything, but the store looks pretty empty so… you want to come sit down? I have so many questions about that goddamned class and my friend is busy today so…"

No way is El going to pass up the opportunity to begin what she feels could be a beautiful friendship. "Sure!"

It goes naturally from there. El sits down with Max whenever she's alone, and they exchange phone numbers shortly after their first meeting. A few times, she even sits down when Mike is there too, although she talks a lot less because she feels like she's intruding on their time together. She finds that Max is a spitfire, just exactly as she looks, and that Mike is a really nice guy with a sharp tongue. He's an engineering major (somehow, that makes him even more attractive. El needs to get over it). They mention someone named Lucas a lot, but neither of them ever specifies who that is and El doesn't want to ask. She assumes he must be one of their friends.

It's been about a month since she first talked to Max, and she wonders if she's ever going to meet their other friends, or if she's just the random Starbucks employee they talk to sometimes. The answer comes one afternoon when Max gets up to leave.

"I'm gonna head home to get ready," she says, swinging her bag over her shoulder and nodding at Mike.

"Alright, guess I'll see you later then," he answers. "Try not to ravage the bathroom while you're at it, would you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Fuck you." She's standing there looking between El and Mike as if waiting for one of them to say something.

"Are you leaving or what, Mayfield?" Mike asks exasperatedly. Max stands there for a moment more before winking at him. He sinks lower in his seat, flushing. "Kindly fuck off, I'll see you later."

She laughs and walks away, waving as she pushes the door open and disappears onto the street.

"So you guys live together?" El asks, picking at her nails and trying not to make it obvious that the new information makes her uncomfortable. Clearly, there's another level of commitment here that she hadn't been aware of. It makes her crush on Mike even more awkward than it already is.

Mike sighs, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. "Yeah. It's easier to live with someone you know than to room with people you've never met. It could be a gamble with new people, but Max and I have known each other our whole lives."

"Oh? How'd you guys meet?"

"We were neighbours and our parents were friends so we grew up together, but we kind of hated each other until like, junior year," he says, tracing a finger around the rim of his cup. "Shit happened and we realized that neither of us was as bad as we thought. Been inseparable since."

Suddenly, he laughs. "Ask anyone from our hometown about Mike Wheeler and Max Mayfield, they'll tell you. Anyway," he adds, leaning forward, "We're heading out to Detroit tonight, it's our friend's birthday. We were wondering if you wanted to come? If you're off work, that is."

El's shocked, and she doesn't know what to say for a moment. Mike must take this the wrong way, because he says, "It's no problem if you don't want to! It's just, the others want to meet you. We talk a lot about you."

"You- you do?"

He smiles. "Yeah! You're really cool."

Her heart flutters, even though she tells herself not to let it. "Um- yeah, my- my shift ends at six-thirty, is that enough time?"

"Totally," he says enthusiastically. "We're all meeting up at mine and Max's place before we leave, I'll text you the address."

A few moments later, her phone buzzes, and when El looks at the address she's surprised to find that- "We live in the same building!"

"Oh, cool! We're on the eighth floor, apartment 8D," Mike says, pointing at her with his straw. "You should come by sometime."

El scoffs. "Yeah, maybe, if you need help with your humanities classes."

Mike's smile disappears and he clutches his chest dramatically. "You're starting to sound like Max! Where is the nice, kind El I once knew?! Where hath she gone?!"

She snorts, then covers her face, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, that was nasty. I am so sorry you had to hear that."

Mike shrugs. "It was kind of c-"

"Also, you're so dramatic," El adds, forging on.

He laughs again. "That's what happens when you have two sisters and end up living with Max Mayfield, biggest drama queen on the planet."

"I feel like she would dump your ass on the side of the road if she heard you say that," El says, tapping her nails against the table.

Mike snorts, taking a drink. "She would. I'm sure she's considered kicking me out just for breathing too loud sometimes."

El's about to respond when the door opens and a customer enters. "Well, guess it's time for me to get back to work!"

She's not free for another hour, and by then it's six-fifteen. When she looks around the store, she sees that Mike is gone. She frowns. She hadn't noticed him leave, but when she checks her phone for the text she'd gotten about half an hour ago it's from him.

Mike [5:43 PM]: Hey sorry I left without saying bye you looked busy but 8D around 8pm ok?

[6:16 PM]: I'll be there dw haha, she responds.

He texts back immediately. Mike [6:16 PM]: Cool see you soon :D

El slips her phone back into her pocket with a smile and turns to see one of the baristas for the shift after hers clocking in. "Hey," she says. "Kinda dead in here and I've got somewhere to be, do you mind if I clock out now?"

At quarter to eight, El's ready. As she makes her way to the eighth floor of her building, she's wondering what the others will be like. She likes Mike and Max just fine and they seem to like her, but will she fit in with the rest of the group? Then she's in front of 8D and she's knocking on the door. There's some muffled yelling from inside (likely arguing about who's going to open the door) and a few moments of silence before it swings open.

Max stands on the other side, dressed in a nice white blouse tucked into fitted black pants. She's got red lips, but other than that her makeup is pretty simple, and half of her hair is straightened. She grins. "Come on in, El. Mike'll be out in a second, he's just being a bitch. Michael!"

There's a muffled "I'm coming!" From somewhere inside the apartment, and then Mike comes out of a room at the end of a hall, messing up his own hair.

"Hi," El says as Max disappears back into what El assumes is the bathroom. "Since when is your hair curly?"

Mike blushes, actually blushes, putting his hands into his pants pockets. He's in a light blue polo and navy pants, a matching blazer thrown over top, and El thinks he looks great. The curly hair is new, though. "Uh, this is what it looks like if I don't blow dry it," he answers, laughing nervously. "Which I always do, but someone's hogging the bathroom!"

"Fuck off, Wheeler! You should've come home earlier but you were too busy ogling a certain someone to remember what time it was!"

At that, he blanches and stalks toward the bathroom door, wrenching it open. "Do you want to shut your mouth for once in your goddamn life, Max?"

Max doesn't answer, but El can hear her humming to herself, ignoring Mike completely. El wonders who he was staring at. Are Max and Mike having problems? For a second she lets herself be selfishly happy that they might, because maybe it'll give her an opening, but then she quickly reprimands herself for thinking that way. They're her friends, she's not going to wish something as horrible as a breakup on what seems to be a perfectly good relationship.

Mike gestures awkwardly around. "Shall I give you the tour? The others aren't here yet. Lucas said they've got him on a late night at the observatory, Max, by the way!" He calls toward the other girl.

Max curses. "And to think I was excited about tonight!"

"It's Dustin's birthday, we have to celebrate anyway! He's already bummed enough that Lucas isn't coming," Mike replies. He turns to El. "Anyway, that's the bathroom," he says, gesturing to where Max is. Motioning to the general area beyond the front door, he tells her it's the living room-slash-kitchen, which is made obvious by the TV/sofa combination on one side and kitchen appliances and furniture on the other. Also, the entire apartment is the same general layout as hers, but she lets him talk anyway. Listening to Mike talk is a guilty pleasure.

The only thing different from her apartment is the fact that this one has two rooms. "That's Max's," Mike says, leading El down the hall and pointing to the door left slightly ajar, "And this is mine." He opens the door directly across to reveal a nicely sized room with a queen-size bed and a dresser in it. It's not messy like she expected it to be, which is nice. It means Mike's not a messy person. What she does question, though, is why they sleep in separate rooms, but she keeps it to herself. Maybe Mike snores, or maybe Max is a kicker.

There's a knock on the door and Mike goes to get it, revealing a man a few inches taller than El with light brown hair and green eyes. He has a kind face, and El takes to him right away. "This is Will," Mike says, gesturing the man in. "Will, this is El."

Will smiles and extends a hand. "The El I've heard so much about?" A look passes between him and Mike, and then Mike glares at him and Will laughs. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," El says. She stands in the living room with Will and Mike for a few minutes, talking, until there's another knock.

"That'll be Dustin," says Will, and Mike lets in another man with curly hair that's got a weird shape to it. It looks like he wears a hat over it all the time, and that's when El recognizes him as the hat-wearing guy from her abnormal psych class.

"Hey," she says. "I'm El." She extends a hand to shake one of his. "You're in Denton's class, right? The guy with the hat?"

Dustin grins. "You got me! And you must be the El we've all been waiting to meet. Mike talks about you a lot." He coughs, looking over her shoulder. "Um, Max does too," he adds.

El thinks it's a little weird that he specified that, but she's not going to question him about it. The four of them spend a few more minutes wishing Dustin a happy birthday and talking as they wait for Max, and El finds that she likes Will and Dustin a lot. They're easy to talk to and really funny. She feels like she is fitting in, after all. When Max emerges, she goes straight to the birthday boy to give him a big hug, and then pulls back and says, "El's coming with me, I want some girl time before we spend the entire night with you boys."

"Don't say anything weird to her, Max," groans Mike.

"Don't get your panties in such a twist then," she retorts.

Will and Dustin smile, used to their friends by now, and El just looks on in slight amusement. Max drives a Smart car, so it only fits two people anyway, and the three boys pile into Mike's blue Kia Forte before they all peel off to the interstate in the direction of Detroit.

The girls travel in comfortable fun, talking and making jokes as usual, but with the addition of singing along to the radio. It's all good and happy until twenty minutes into the drive when Max goes in for the kill.

"So... you like Mike, right?"

El almost chokes on her own spit. She's trying to hide her shock as she turns the radio down a little bit. "Um, yeah, I guess? We're friends," she says mildly.

Max smirks as if she knows something El doesn't and shakes her head. "You know that's not what I meant."

El swallows, tugging at one of her curls. Her crush's girlfriend is asking whether she likes him. What is she supposed to say to that? Turns out, Max already has an answer.

"I know you do, you're kinda obvious," she says. "Although I can see why you might not want to admit it. I think it'd be a little embarrassing to have a crush on that. But that's just me, I guess."

Now El's wondering what the hell is even happening. Max doesn't seem angry at all, quite the opposite in fact. She seems pleased that another girl has taken an interest in Mike. Which is... completely bizarre, to say the least. Maybe they want a threesome or something. "You're not mad?"

Max's eyes look like they're going to fall out of her head as she looks at El. "Why would I be mad?"

El looks down, wanting to avoid eye contact with the other girl. "I mean... if I had a boyfriend and another girl liked him, I don't think I'd be happy about it."

It's dead silent for a few moments but for the radio, until Max bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god!" She exclaims. "You thought he was my boyfriend?!"

El's cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Yeah..."

Max is still laughing. "I can't breathe," she wheezes. She's silent for a few moments before her face wrinkles. "He's not. That's so gross I can't even imagine it."

"But you guys are so close, I just thought..." El trails off, refusing to look at the redhead.

Max shakes her head. "Mike's like my brother, in every way. I don't even like him most of the time, I just put up with him."

El looks out the window, taking a deep breath to gather her courage, much like the first time she spoke to Max. "Okay, so I like him. Why did you want me to admit it?"

Max smirks again. "Tonight's the perfect night to make your move."

"Nope," El shakes her head. "I am way too anxious for that. Also, I don't want our friendship to be awkward if it doesn't go through."

"Why wouldn't it, though? He's liked you since you were in his classics lecture. You know-"

"He was in my classics?"

"Yes," Max says exasperatedly. "But that's not the point. You know we started going to Starbucks way more often after you got a job there? I'm broke because of his bitch ass wanting to see you all the time but never saying anything," she adds with an eye roll.

"I- okay," El says. "I'll try."

Max reaches out to clap her on the shoulder. "Atta girl! And for the record, I'm dating Lucas."

El smiles. "I'll keep that in mind for when I meet him."

Upon arriving in the city, El spends her time looking out the window and marvelling at the sights. She only passed through Detroit on her way to college the first year, and since she hasn't had many friends, she hasn't had many outings. The city is new to her, and she loves all the lights and colours and people walking around. Max pulls up in front of a small restaurant and the boys park behind her, everyone getting out of the cars and stretching for a moment before walking into the establishment.

El ends up beside Mike (because of course she does), Will and Max across from them and Dustin at the head of the table. Dinner runs smoothly besides Dustin burning his tongue on the soup he ordered, El fitting into the group seamlessly. It's looking to be a great night, but El's wondering how Max thinks she's supposed to make her move. She can't exactly do it in a restaurant, can she?

Her opportunity comes in the form of the group going to a club. Dustin's just turned twenty-one, but the rest of them are already overage so they might as well enjoy themselves, right? The three non-drivers have spent the last half hour or so knocking back mojitos, margaritas, and daiquiris, so Max and Mike are sitting off to the side enjoying watching their friends lose their inhibitions. El's very aware of the fact that she's drunk, but it's also literally liquid courage, so she's going to use it to her advantage. She's just drained her piña colada and slapped the glass back onto the bar when she grabs Mike's arm and tugs him away with her.

"Come dance with me," she says. She doesn't allow him time to respond before she's squeezed them into the mass of writhing people on the dance floor. He's moving along with her, but he's clearly feeling awkward if his erratic movements and half-smile are anything to go by.

"I'm not very good at dancing!" He yells in an attempt to be heard over the thumping bass.

"That's okay!" She yells back, swinging her hips and raising her arms. "Just move with me!" It's kind of funny, El thinks, that she's even doing this at all. Hanging out with Max must have made her develop some kind of outgoing kink (or maybe it's just the alcohol). Whatever it is, El's having a good time. Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. Mike's arms are just hanging limply by his sides, swinging around slightly as he rocks himself from side to side, but she would love to feel his hands on her. So she does the only logical thing: grabs his wrists and puts his hands on her waist.

He looks down at her in surprise but when he sees that she means business he lets his hands rest where they are and presses his fingers into the sliver of skin between her top and her jeans. That sends the best kind of shiver down her spine and Mike must feel it because he sends the most devilish grin her way. He's moving a little more in sync with her now because of where his hands are; he knows which way she's going to move right before she does it. They stay like that for a bit, progressively getting closer to each other until they're practically chest-to-chest and standing between each other's legs, but all of a sudden Mike gets a weird look on his face and rushes off to the restroom. El doesn't want to look like a fool dancing by herself, so she returns to the bar with a scowl. Upon seeing her, Max bursts out laughing.

"Did he leave you out there by yourself?" She asks, watching El order another cocktail.

El slumps against the bar and pouts. "We were having a good time dancing, I don't know why he left!"

The other girl cackles. "Probably went to go rub one out in the restroom!"

"Max!" El reaches out to slap her on the arm. "Don't be gross."

Max smirks. "He's a young man with needs, El! And also insanely attracted to you, I'm probably right."

El sends her a grumpy look and gratefully accepts her drink from the bartender. "Where's Will and Dustin?"

Max shrugs. "Dustin felt sick so he went outside to get some air, and I think Will saw a hot guy somewhere on the dance floor."

"He's gay?"

"Very," Max says. "You ever need guy advice, Will's the one you want. He's not called Will the Wise for nothing."

El takes a sip from her martini and nods thoughtfully as if considering, looking into the crowd. She perks up when she sees a mop of messy hair floating above it, correctly identifying the person as her man of interest. Mike slinks up to the bar and gives El a weak smile.

"Sorry about leaving," he says. "I just... had to use the restroom."

Max scoffs at him. "Sure, like we don't know why."

He throws her a look. "I swear to god, Mayfield. Where's the guys?"

Max rolls her eyes and El stays silent, sipping some more martini. "Dustin's outside getting some air and Will saw a hot guy somewhere."

"Mm," Mike agrees. "I did see some. Michigan's got more hot guys than Indiana ever did, that's for sure."

Max laughs and El looks up at Mike curiously. "You like guys too?"

He nods. "Mostly girls, but every now and then I'll see a really good-looking man and remember that the grass is green on both sides."

El hums before poking him in the arm. "You look like a frog, did you know that?"

Max tries and fails to hold back a snort and Mike looks hurt for a second before regaining composure. "Really?"

"I think so," El says, and giggles. "But I like frogs, they're cute. And! I had to do a project on frogs in second grade and I always liked them. Froggy froggy froggy," she adds, with a poke on each 'froggy'.

All things considered, it's a good night. Dustin doesn't throw up, Will gets the guy's number, and El gets in a few more dances with Max. When they're leaving, Max volunteers to take Dustin home.

"He rooms with Lucas," says Mike knowingly. "She probably won't come back."

He bundles Will and El into his car with him, and the two of them sit in the back gushing about the guy who caught Will's eye the entire way home. After they drop Will off at his place, the first floor of a duplex about two blocks away, El's almost asleep and Mike has to practically drag her out of the car and into their building. He's got an arm hooked around her waist to help her, but that just means his body heat is radiating even further. She kind of wants to latch onto him and curl up like a baby koala on its mother, but she still has enough self-restraint not to.

"El," he says, "El, which floor are you on?"

"Fourteenth," she answers sleepily. "But I don't know where my key is. I wanna sleep."

Mike sighs. "Is it okay if you stay over? Max probably won't be back, so you can take her bed. I don't want to take you upstairs and then have you spend forever looking for your key."

"Okay."

And that's how she ends up spending the night in her crush's apartment. It's a good sleep, but she wakes in the morning with a bad headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. Her whole body hurts. The only good things are that someone's left an aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table, and that she can smell something cooking.

El takes the pill and then groans when she looks at her phone and sees that it's only nine o'clock. Seems her body clock is still working. She hears steps coming down the hall, deducing that the noise was loud enough to attract the attention of whoever was in the kitchen.

Mike's head pops into the room, a sunny smile attached to his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead!"

"Fuck this shit."

He frowns. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

"My hangovers are terrible."

"Are there good hangovers?" He asks with a laugh. "Come on, I'm making breakfast. Hope you like waffles!"

The truth of the matter is that waffles are actually El's favourite food, so she rushes to get herself to the kitchen.

"Waffles are the best food, no contest," she says, watching as Mike takes fresh waffles out of a waffle toaster and puts them on a plate.

"Well, then I hope mine will live up to your expectations," he answers, setting the plate in front of her and turning back to the machine.

He's laid out whipped cream and some other stuff (syrup, M&Ms, and strawberries) on the table, so El puts some of each on her waffles and digs in. They're heavenly. They're fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside, just the right texture and sweetness. She nearly cries with delight.

Mike seems to pick up on this, because he's sort of smirking when he joins her at the table. "You like?"

"Do I?" El exclaims. "Best waffles I've ever tasted!"

He's smiling as he digs into his own plate of crispy deliciousness. "I'm glad you like them, but if you want really good waffles you should go to Belgium."

"I'm too poor for that," El says around a mouthful. She swallows. "College student, and all? But I'd love to. Where'd you learn to make waffles this good?"

"I used to work at Waffle House in high school. The only reason they didn't fire me before I left was that I was the best damn waffle maker that town ever had."

"But?"

"But what?"

"I sense that there's a but here."

Mike laughs. "But I learned to cook with my mom. My younger sister was too little to cook, my older sister was useless in the kitchen, and my dad is…" He trails off. "Anyway, I liked cooking and I was good help, so my mom sort of took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. I can cook pretty much anything if you give me a recipe, but baking is a whole other ball game," he says, making gestures with his fork.

"Good to know you and Max aren't starving all the time, then," El replies dryly. She's smiling.

Mike squints at her. "You're something, El. Really something."

After that, Mike starts coming into her Starbucks by himself often. Two months go by where there's not a day that she doesn't see him, whether it be at Starbucks by himself and with Max, or in their apartment building. Upon discovering that the three of them live in the same one, Max and Mike have hung out with El a lot more. He also texts her frequently.

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: victreebel.mov

It's a video of Victreebel screeching.

[4:53 PM]: Why do u text me such weird shit

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: I thought it was funny :(

[4:54 PM]: I'm working

Frogge 🐸[4:54 PM]: And I'm impatient

[4:55 PM]: Hi impatient I'm El.

She puts her phone in her pocket just in time to get the finished cup of coffee to the customer, then pulls it back out again.

[4:56 PM]: Come inside for 5 mins dumbass I'm almost done

Within a literal half-second, Mike's standing at the door in all his windswept glory. It's a windy April day outside, most of which El had avoided by arriving at work before the wind picked up. Unfortunately, Mike hasn't been so lucky, coming to meet her as soon as his exam finished. Two days ago, he'd texted her in the middle of the night asking when she was free.

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: Ellie

[2:34 AM]: Mike its 2:34 am

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: You're awake too whats your point

[2:35 AM]: Yes froggy

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: Smh that's so rude

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: When are you free

[2:35 AM]: U have distracted me from my sleep for this

[2:35 AM]: U could've easily asked me in the morning

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: I couldn't sleeeeeeep

[2:36 AM]: Not my fault

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: El please

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: Its important

[2:36 AM]: Wednesday after 5 or Friday after 6:30

[2:37 AM]: Why

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: :DDDDDD

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: You'll see :)

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: Wednesday !

She has no idea what it is that he has planned, but as she removes her barista apron and clocks out, he's bouncing on his feet, a huge smile on his face. "You really look like a frog when you smile like that," she says, reaching up to give him a hug. It's become their customary greeting since he started it a few days after that morning in his apartment, and every time it happens it leaves El happy with a positive, glowing warmth around her. It makes her wonder if kissing him would have the same effect.

"Come on," he answers excitedly, latching onto her hand and pulling her out the door. The wind is blustering but that doesn't stop Mike from tugging El down the street with gusto, only coming to a stop when they reach the Subway near the corner of Packard and S State.

Once inside, El smiles and asks, "Out of one food place and into another?"

Mike waves her off. "Subway is better than Starbucks," he says, leading her to the counter.

"And yet you're in Starbucks almost every day," she retorts.

He rolls his eyes before looking up at the menu. "Yeah, but that's only because you're there."

She doesn't know what to say to that.

They each order a sandwich because, well, it's Subway, and a bag of chips. El doesn't finish hers, so it's more like Mike ends up eating a bag and a half. It's as he's sitting back, patting his stomach, that El finally lets her curiosity get the best of her.

"So why'd you bring me here?"

He grins. "Alright, so here's the thing. I don't know what your plans are for the summer-"

"Don't really have any, besides working," she interrupts.

"Okay, great! That's awesome," he says. "So I'm going to Lisbon for four days and my sister was supposed to come with me, but something important came up at work and she can't go. So-" here he pauses for dramatic effect- "She cancelled her plane ticket and sent me the money 'cause it was my birthday present to her, but since there's reservations for two and I've been saving for a while I didn't want to waste that. I can take someone with me."

El's not sure she knows where he's going with this. Is he really-?

"And I wanted you to come. If you want to?" He asks this in such a hopeful tone, El can't help but want to.

"But- what about Max? Or the others?"

"Max is going home with Lucas for the summer to meet his parents and I haven't asked the others, but I really wanted you to come, El," Mike says softly. "It's fine if you don't want to, I understand."

"No!" She laughs nervously, rushing to fix her mistake. "I'd love to come, I'm sure I can get one week off. I'm just- you really want me to come with you?"

"I really want you to come with me everywhere in general," he jokingly responds. "I think it'll be great. And I mean, they might not have the best waffles, but I hear their food is to die for?"

The week after is a flurry of bookings (a train and plane ticket for El, and booking off work). The two of them will leave Ann Arbor for Chicago on June fourth at seven-twenty AM for their twelve fifty-five flight to Washington D.C., where they'll have a six-and-a-half hour layover before getting on their way overnight to Lisbon. If everything goes to plan, they should be in another country by ten thirty-five AM local time.

El's the most excited she's ever been. Getting to explore a foreign country? Sign her up! She's never left the States before. The only thing she's worried about is not speaking the language, but Mike assures her that they'll be bound to find someone who speaks English. After all, it's not like they'll be in the middle of nowhere; they'll be in a city of millions. And, he adds, tourism is one of Portugal's biggest money-makers, so there's gotta be translators somewhere.

It also gets Max off El's back about telling Mike about her steadily growing feelings. She hasn't attempted anything since the night at the club, letting her slight anxieties get the best of her. He'd seemed into what was happening, and according to Max he likes El a lot, but there is also his weird escape to the restroom and that's what El's brain holds onto. She's afraid that he'll run in the other direction if she so much as tries to hint that she holds anything besides friendly feelings for him, even though she's smart enough to pick up on his blatant affection for her. Max makes El promise that she'll do something about it on their trip.

The group finishes off their school year in relatively high spirits, and Max leaves almost immediately with Lucas. They're going to road trip and sightsee for a few weeks before heading to Lucas' home in Delaware. El, Will, and Mike all have jobs to busy themselves with, but Will is going home to Maine to visit his mom and then New York to visit his brother at the end of the month. Dustin is preparing to take on an internship at a bioengineering company that will hopefully help land him a job when he's finished with his education. When they've got free time they all like to hang out at someone's place and enjoy it, but since Mike and El live merely floors apart they hang out most often. In fact, Mike has taken to falling asleep on El's couch at least once a week, coming up for dinner when he doesn't invite her down instead (he claims he misses Max and doesn't like eating alone).

Eventually, Will has gone off to Maine and the morning of El's first international venture dawns bright and clear. Her bags have been packed for a few days now, all she needs to do is one last clean sweep of her apartment before going downstairs to make sure her travel partner isn't still sleeping. When she knocks, the door swings open and a very dishevelled Mike is standing on the other side. She laughs at the mess of hair on his head, just as she does every other morning she sees him like this, and thinks that it really isn't going to take much longer for her to truly be in love.

"It is six in the fucking morning," he says, pulling her through the door, "and I have just ingested approximately three gallons of caffeine. This is ungodly."

"I'm fairly sure three gallons of straight-up caffeine would make you overdose or something," she responds, leaning against the kitchen table and watching him putter around straightening blankets before streaking down the hall to his room.

"I haven't gotten up this early in years!"

On the train to Chicago (which they have to take because Mike's sister Nancy lives there so it's where the flight is scheduled from), they look out the windows for a bit but mostly sleep. An alarm is set so that they don't end up sleeping through the stop. They make it to O'Hare just in time for check-in and boarding, and then they're on their way to D.C. Once there, they head into the city to have lunch and take a tour of Capitol Hill before switching airports for the red-eye to Lisbon. El is fascinated to see all the buildings where the nation's greatest decisions take place, to stand where thousands have stood during events that made history. Mike's just sort of tagging along, having been to D.C. before, but she thinks he's enjoying himself nonetheless.

The flight is uneventful other than some light turbulence when they're about an hour out from landing, and the fact that Mike falls asleep on her. El's freaking out internally when he lays his head on her shoulder, but continues to watch the movie in front of her as if nothing's happening. It makes her feel warm inside.

As the plane approaches land, El can see the blue, sparkling ocean spread out beneath her and little orange roofs dotting the landscape ahead. "Hey, why are the roofs orange?" She asks, shrugging her shoulder a little bit to get Mike's attention.

He looks out the window, squinting as if that's going to make them hear each other better (their ears have yet to pop). "They're made of tiles instead of shingles, that's just their colour."

"That's cool."

A few moments of silence later, Mike lifts his head off her shoulder and says, "So, you excited?"

"Yeah!" El exclaims. "What are we doing first?"

Mike laughs. "I think we're sleeping, you're gonna want to crash the second you get off this plane."

He's right, of course, if only partially; she doesn't want to sleep the second she gets off, she wants to sleep as soon as the stress of border control and baggage claim are over. She does sleep a bit on the way from the airport to where they're staying, only waking up long enough to get inside and collapse in the first bedroom she comes across.

When El wakes up it's dark out the window, and she sees that it's past midnight when her phone buzzes on the bedside table. She wonders for a moment how she's getting messages if she didn't connect her phone to wifi, but realizes that Mike must have done it. He's her best friend at this point, so he does know her passcode. It's the group chat, so she scrolls to the top to see what they were talking about.

Frogge 🐸[12:34 PM]: hey guys I know it's barely morning for you but just wanted to say we're here

Maxie [1:47 PM]: good flight?

Dustin [2:16 PM]: they're probably both sleeping off the jet lag

Will [3:58 PM]: yeah mike'll probably wake up first, he sleeps on flights doesn't he

Maxie [4:00 PM]: probably

Maxie [4:00 PM]: miCHAEL WAKE THE FUCK UP

Maxie [4:01 PM]: ELEANOR WHERE U AT

Lucas [4:02 PM]: that's a lot of probablys

Dustin [4:07 PM]: they'll be back dw about it

Will [4:10 PM]: yeah don't wake them

Maxie [4:32 PM]: u right if u wake mike too early he'll kill u

Maxie [4:33 PM]: idk about el but since they're a match made in heaven she's probs the same

Will [4:35 PM]: so I'm not the only one seeing it then

Dustin [4:36 PM]: will do u think the rest of us r blind

Maxie [4:36 PM]: ok gotta go me and Lucas are leaving now

Will [4:37 PM]: have fun

Dustin [4:37 PM]: don't die

Frogge 🐸[11:46 PM]: can you guys not

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: yes the flight was good, I fell asleep but el told me it was fine

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: just a little turbulence like an hour before we landed

Will [11:53 PM]: you guys slept literally the entire day?

Frogge 🐸[11:55 PM]: No I woke up in the middle of the afternoon to go pee and then I went to some random store to buy food but I didn't check my phone

Frogge 🐸 [11:56 PM]: idk if el has woken up today but she didn't sleep at all on the plane so probably not

Max [12:01 AM]: why'd u go buy food aren't u in a hotel

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: no we're in this place it's like an apartment and you pay for it like a hotel but it's cheaper Lisbon has a lot of these

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: also if we go grocery shopping it's cheaper than eating out 3 times a day for a week

Lucas [12:03 AM]: so where is she

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: sleeping

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: yeah I think she's still asleep

[12:04 AM]: incorrect I have returned to the world of the conscious

Frogge 🐸[12:04 AM]: great come eat! I saved you some food

Will [12:04 AM]: El: wakes up

Will [12:04 AM]: Mike: 😍

Frogge 🐸[12:05 AM]: shut up will bye

[12:05 AM]: lol I'm coming

El makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up a little before going down the hall, where she finds Mike standing by the open window in the living room area cradling a cup of what appears to be milk.

"Hey," she says, poking him in the back.

He turns around with a smile and hands a second mug to her, also full of milk. "Milk fills you up but also makes you sleepy," he answers.

"Thanks for the fact," El quips in return, taking the cup. She leans out the window to look at the city around them and sips. "Is that a river?"

"Yup. The Tagus."

"Weird name."

Mike laughs quietly and throws his free arm over her shoulder, dark eyes sparkling. "Things usually sound a little better in their native language, but I don't know how to pronounce it properly."

El hums in response. "It looks like a beautiful city, though, I can't wait to explore."

"Then we should probably get some more sleep to wake up early, huh? There's toast on the counter for you if you want it," he says, chugging what's left of his milk before depositing his cup in the sink and going back into the room he's claimed as his.

It's silent for a few moments but for the slight rustle of bedsheets as El drinks the remnants of her milk and Mike settles in. Then: "Night, El!"

She rolls her eyes, but her heart warms and a smile blooms on her face. "Night, Mike."

El wakes up again around nine hours later, feeling fully refreshed but confused. She was awoken by a loud crash, and blinks her eyes open to see her friend lying on the floor in her doorway. "What are you doing?" She yawns.

"Can I just die here?" Mike says. "I fell coming to wake you up."

El can't help but laugh at the mental image that conjures, but it gets so funny that she has to bury her face in her pillow to muffle the giggles.

"It's not that funny, El!"

She feels the mattress sink next to her and immediately flips over to push Mike away when he starts to tickle her. "S-stop!" She shrieks. "I can't breathe!"

"Never!" He tickles her with renewed fervour until she manages to kick him away, at which point he flops down onto the mattress and smiles at her. The sun is coming in through the window and it backlights his hair in a way that makes him look like there's a halo on his head, which El thinks is appropriate because he is the closest a human can get to an angel. She smiles back.

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

That first day is spent lounging by the river for a while and taking pictures, followed by walking around the downtown streets. Some of them are wide and full of shops and people, and others are narrow, steep hills that look like they'd be impossible to navigate by car. What do pass are these little things that look like three-wheeled mopeds with bench seats and a roof, and they roar up and down the busy streets at what looks like should be an impossible speed for the incline of the roads. Mike tells her they're a tourist thing, so who knows, they might end up in one too.

The night ends with dinner in a nearby restaurant, which serves not quite the best food El's ever had (after all, homemade always has that touch of… something that makes it special) but it is a good dining experience. Mike was right, all of the people they've interacted with have been able to speak English or direct them to someone who does, so they're able to enjoy the meal without having to worry about misunderstandings. In all, El's first day out of the United States is a dashing success.

The second day begins with a shower straight out of bed, after which El realizes that she's the only one awake, so she dresses and makes herself breakfast. She's sitting at the table reading a tourist magazine and sipping coffee when her travel companion stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and with quite the bedhead.

She grins. "Top of the morning to you, Mr. Rat's Nest," she greets him.

Mike blinks at her. "What?"

El feels like her smile is going to break her face. She could get used to seeing him like this every morning. He looks more like a boy than the young man he is, and less stressed too. What a sight. She could just combust from looking at him and she'd be happy about it.

"Your hair," she answers, gesturing to his head, where his hand follows and settles in the nest as if to confirm that his hair is indeed as much of a mess as she's making it out to be.

Mike glares half-heartedly. "I'll thank you to leave me and my hair alone. I haven't fixed it."

"Whatever you say," she replies, smirking back into her mug.

He putters around the kitchen for a few moments before suddenly whipping around. "Is that black?"

El raises her brows. "Straight," she says, slurping obnoxiously.

"I can't believe my- you drink black coffee?" Mike interrupts himself before he finishes his sentence, but it's already kind of too late.

"Your what?"

He looks away. "Nothing." He turns back to the fridge, taking milk out of it and pouring it into a mug. El's still watching when he shakes his head and mutters, "Black coffee."

"I'll thank you to leave me and my black coffee alone," she retorts, but she's smiling again. It's almost impossible how happy this man makes her.

A few minutes later, when Mike is sitting across from her with his toast and drink (it's honestly more milk than coffee but since it is a mix, she guesses it could be considered a latte), El speaks again. "My dad used to drink his coffee black."

"He used to?"

"Yeah, I-" She falters.

Mike reaches out for her hand and cups his around hers on the mug. "You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I-" She shakes her head quickly. She will tell him. "My mom was a drug addict and she died when I was born."

Mike's grip on her hand tightens and El's grateful for it. He's always been a reassuring presence. "I'm so sorry."

"It's- fine, really, I- anyway." She clears her throat. "My mom died giving birth to me and no one knew who my dad was. But I was adopted as a baby, by a man who had lost his daughter a few years before. He's the one I grew up with. His name was Jim. Jim Hopper."

El's feeling the tears build up and she's thinking that maybe she should stop talking, but she also thinks that this is something Mike should know about her before anything else happens. "He was a cop. But he was such a loving person. He took care of me, he gave me room to grow, he played with me, he taught me, he loved me." At that she lets the tears flow. Where did the joy of five minutes ago disappear to? It never hurts any less when she thinks about him, it just gets easier to deal with. She can still see his smiling face and hear his laugh, and it pulls a hiccupy sob out of her.

"What happened to him?" Mike asks softly.

"One night, when I was thirteen, he was called out on emergency," she says, looking at their joined hands on the mug in front of her. "And he never came back. He was killed on the job."

Mike doesn't say anything, but she meets his eyes and sees something in them that warms her. It's this moment, the most vulnerable she's ever been in front of him, that makes her realize: she's not falling, she's already fallen.

El looks away. "After that, well. I got put in the system. But nobody wants to adopt a teenager, so I just got bumped around from foster home to foster home until I was eighteen. Then I was left to fend for myself," she laughs. "Good thing I turned eighteen in the summer, otherwise I probably would've had to drop out of high school and work."

"So you're older than me?" Mike asks.

El rolls her eyes and sniffs. "I just spilled my entire life story to you and that's what you ask?"

Mike smiles, and it squeezes her heart in a good way. "Well, it's not like you're a criminal or something. It could be worse if you did illegal shit. But I'm sorry that happened to you."

El looks back into her cup of coffee, the catalyst of this entire conversation. "Well, yeah. He never would've allowed me to drink coffee a way other than black, so that's how I take it. It reminds me of him."

When they're on their way out the door to another day of adventure, Mike stops her and pulls her into a tight hug. He looks directly into her eyes when he pulls away. "If you ever need something, I'm always here for you."

She nods. "Thank you."

Everything is going well until they make a turn down some side street that was supposed to be a shortcut and end up getting lost.

"Mike," El pleads for the fifth time, "Let's just ask someone for help?"

"No," he answers, "I've got this. Just a second." He's still looking at the map they were using to try and get to the castle. The two of them were on their way to Castelo de São Jorge, the castle on top of a hill from which you could get "wicked views of the city and river", but unfortunately they'd gotten turned around in the maze of windy cobblestone alleys and had no idea where they were. Neither of them had gotten a roaming plan either, so using a GPS is out of the question unless they want to pay a hefty sum at the end of the month.

El huffs impatiently. "You've been saying that for the last ten minutes!" She throws her arms up in exasperation and walks back down to the nearest corner, leaving Mike squinting at the map uselessly in the hopes that she'll find someone to help.

She stands on the corner and waits for someone to walk by, finding a target within a few minutes. It's a woman who looks like she might be around El's age or older, with wavy, long brown hair and striking green eyes that El notices from feet away. She's carrying some shopping bags and walking down the street with a wide smile on her face. She looks approachable, but El's having a hard time screwing up the courage to talk to her.

Luckily, the woman seems to notice El's slight distress and stops in front of her.

"Español?" She asks.

El shakes her head. "English?"

The woman smiles again. "Are you lost?"

El's relief is great. The woman speaks perfect English, so El doesn't have to stand there and make a fool of herself trying to be understood.

"Oh thank god," she breathes. "Yes. My friend and I are trying to get to the castle but we got lost and he's still looking at the map."

"Men," the woman says, shaking her head ruefully. "I can take you there, if you want. My name's Sabrina."

El smiles shyly. "I'm El."

"Alright, El," says Sabrina, hefting her bags. "I'm going to leave these at home real quick and I'll meet you here in a few minutes, it's just down the street."

She starts walking in the direction she was originally going and vanishes around a corner. El's a little worried that it was a mean joke and Sabrina's not going to come back at all, but she turns around and calls Mike anyway.

"Hey!" She yells, cupping her hands around her mouth. Mike's head jerks up from the map he is still looking at. "I found someone to help us!"

He starts jogging down the street and joins her on the corner in a few moments.

"Where are they?" He asks, furrowing his brows.

"She had some shopping bags so she went to leave them at home, but she said she'd meet us here soon."

"Okay, cool. She speak English?"

El nods. "Perfectly. Sounds just like us."

A few minutes later, El sees Sabrina coming back in their direction. "There she is!"

Mike squints. "You sure she's not going to kidnap us?"

El elbows him. "Be grateful. We're lost because of you, smart one."

Mike rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything else as Sabrina walks up to them.

"Hey!" She greets. "I'm assuming you're El's friend? I'm Sabrina."

"Mike," Mike answers, shaking the hand Sabrina extends. "Heard you could help us get to the castle?"

"Glad to help!" Sabrina leads them down to the end of the street they had been on, makes a left, and keeps walking.

"So," says Mike curiously, "not to be offensive or anything, but how come you speak English so well? We haven't met anyone here who speaks like you do."

Sabrina waves a hand and makes a right. "It's not offensive, don't worry about it. I was actually born and grew up in Canada, but my parents moved back when I was eighteen so I moved too. I decided to live down here instead of up north with them."

El nods along, trying to pay attention to where they're turning so that they can find their way back later.

"It's a very pretty city, from what we've seen," she says.

Sabrina smiles. "There's just something here, right? Porto is very nice too but I love Lisbon."

A few minutes of mindless chatter later, after they've made another right and then two lefts and one more right, Sabrina pauses and asks, "So you guys are Americans, right?"

El laughs. "Are we really that obvious?"

Sabrina shakes her head. "I knew it! There's something about you. Also, I tend to meet more American tourists than Canadians."

"We're from Michigan," adds Mike. "I was supposed to be here with my sister, actually, but she cancelled last minute and El agreed to come instead, lucky for me."

"You don't have to sound so unhappy about it, you ass," El says, poking him in the side.

"Maybe I don't really like you, ever think of that?" He answers, then sticks his tongue out her. It's such a childish action that El doesn't even know how to react, so she just shakes her head and walks faster.

Sabrina looks like she's about to laugh at them, but instead she opts for asking, "Are you sure you guys are friends?"

El can sense the underlying secondary question that she knows the other woman is not going to ask, and she wonders herself what the answer to that is.

Mike, however, either ignores it or doesn't notice at all, as he throws an arm over El's shoulders and pulls her close. "Nah, I love her. El's the best."

Her heart skips several beats at his words, but she ignores it for the time being. She's been dealing with this for months at this point, she's a pro at pretending Mike doesn't make her feel like she's going to float away at any second.

Sabrina just smirks knowingly and stops walking at the bottom of a steep hill a moment later. "Okay," she says, "You can see the walls from here. Just go up this hill and you'll find your way. It was nice meeting you guys, enjoy your trip!"

Both of them say their thank yous and watch as Sabrina walks away and vanishes around a corner back the way she came.

"She was nice," remarks Mike, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looks up.

"Good thing I talked to her, otherwise we'd probably still be lost."

"Oh, come on!"

They're almost at the top of the hill when El falls. She's slightly behind Mike and gets so distracted by the shape of his shoulders that she doesn't see a cobblestone sticking slightly out from the rest. She lands with a loud thump and sees Mike whip around.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks concernedly, reaching down to help her up.

El grips his hand firmly, the warmth from it bleeding into her and causing her face to flush as she stands. She hopes that if Mike notices, he chalks it up to the outside temperature.

But then he doesn't let go. And El isn't about to either, so…

They end up walking around looking for the ticket booth while holding hands. El's pretty sure it's the sweatiest her hand has ever been, which is gross, but it's so nice to hold Mike's hand that she's not even really thinking about it. They only separate to have an argument about who's paying for the tickets (which El wins by stating that she will not speak to Mike for the rest of the trip if he doesn't let her take care of it) and then gravitate tentatively back together as they enter into the castle grounds.

There are a ton of tourists inside, but Mike and El join a group being led by a guide who explains the history of the castle and surrounding area. It's quite interesting, especially for people like both Mike and El who think of themselves as low-key history buffs (they've watched a lot of documentaries on the History Channel together, sue them).

Afterward, they walk around on their own, taking pictures of the skyline and the river. They take pictures of each other, then get a random group of German tourists to take ones of them together, and it's just a good morning all around.

Back at the apartment for lunch, Mike cooks a delicious pot of farfalle with Alfredo sauce, which he takes a picture of and posts on his Instagram story. A few minutes later, El gets a notification.

m_mayfield sent you mwheels' story.

m_mayfield: HE NEVER COOKS THIS NICE FOR ME

m_mayfield: EL COME GET UR MANS LMAOOO

lhppr: I'm literally with him

lhppr: He is in front of me right now

lhppr: Watching me message u with a very suspicious face

m_mayfield: tell him I said he's stupid

"Max said you're stupid," El says noncommittally.

Mike rolls his eyes as he sets down their plates. "Tell her I love her too."

lhppr: He said he loves u too

m_mayfield: atta boy :)

m_mayfield: so u guys fuck yet

lhppr: Omg Max

lhppr: No why the hell

lhppr: I feel like u would find out from him first anyway jesus

lhppr: We held hands today tho it was so nice! He has nice hands!!!!!!!!!!!!

m_mayfield: ( ͡°👅 ͡°)

lhppr: DO NOT

lhppr: WE ARE ABOUT TO EAT I AM ABORTING THIS CONVERSATION GOODBYE

El slips her phone into her pocket and ignores the buzzes as she digs into her plate of pasta.

"So what did Max want?" Mike asks, stabbing the pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.

El gets distracted by his lips for a second (wow those are also… really nice…) but shakes herself out of it before he notices. She smiles. "Nothing, she just sent me your story and told me that you never cook this nice for her."

Mike swallows his food, then scoffs. "I have cooked whole roast chickens for her. That liar."

"Whole roast chickens?"

"And potatoes, and rice."

"Sounds nice."

He nods. "It's her favourite food, so whenever she needs a pick-me-up."

And ugh, Mike is just too sweet for his own good. El can all too easily imagine him taking the time to cook something special for his friends to cheer them up, and when she imagines him doing it for her it makes her want to kiss him more than usual.

For the afternoon, Mike and El decide to go on one of those little three-wheeled things and take a tour around the city. The drivers know all the cool spots, after all. Theirs takes them on a two-hour tour, stopping at a bunch of churches to explain their history (the interior of one is made entirely of gold, apparently) as well as lookout points and other important buildings. They're able to get off at some locations to take pictures, which is also really great. El's phone's camera roll is quickly becoming filled.

At the end, the driver leaves them back where they started, but it's too early for dinner, so Mike suggests they go souvenir shopping. Lord knows Max would kill them if they dared to go home without souvenirs for her.

"Hey," says El, scrutinizing the window display in front of them, "Do you think Dustin would want a duck?"

"Dustin would go for a duck."

For Dustin, El and Mike buy a bright green rubber duck. It has #LisbonDuckStore printed on the side. Will's getting a specialty jar of Nutella, which El buys another jar of for herself because waffles. Lucas gets a tiny pair of novelty binoculars, but Max is harder to shop for. For her, they end up buying name keychains that have a little Lisboa charm hanging from the end. There's no Max, so El buys a Maria and Mike gets an Xavier, and then they mix up the letters on one chain to spell her name.

The pair heads back to the apartment for dinner, then go for a walk along the riverside as it's getting dark. El's trying not to think too much about the fact that Mike keeps glancing at her. He looks nervous and she doesn't really want to consider why that might be.

But then… she hears a sharp intake of breath and feels his hand fumble against hers, so she takes the plunge and laces their fingers, heart in her throat. She doesn't look at him for a few seconds, just to gauge what's going on, but when she does she's faced with an adorable sight. He's looking at their hands and smiling, the tips of his ears pink and the same pinkness spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

Neither of them says anything for a few minutes, just walking and enjoying the bubbly feeling between them that El knows she isn't imagining. Mike starts swinging their joined hands lightly before he breaks the silence.

"So, I have something embarrassing to tell you," he starts.

El's intrigued. "What?"

"You were in Doddmann's classics lecture last year," Mike says, now blushing deeply.

"I know."

"So was I."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Max told me."

At this, he blanches. "Um, well… basically, I had a huge crush on you. And I didn't even know you yet, so that's embarrassing."

El already knew this months ago, thanks to Max, and she tells him as much. "I just wasn't expecting to actually hear it from you," she adds.

Mike's avoiding her gaze now, looking at the river beside them instead. "You didn't think it was weird? That I was weird?"

El laughs. "Let me tell you something embarrassing. I thought you and Max were a thing."

"Are you serious? Ew!" Mike exclaims. "I would never. She would never."

"Well, I didn't know any better!" El defends. "It was a good excuse not to talk to you."

Mike quirks an eyebrow curiously. "Why didn't you want to talk to me?"

"You make me nervous."

"…I make you nervous. Me. The human stick man."

El sighs. "Not so much anymore now that we've gotten to know each other, but you used to. I felt like I was about to fly through the ceiling every time you came to order. Know why? I was crushing on you too, hugely and stupidly. I didn't even know you."

Mike's beautiful smile returns. "Guess we're just a couple of idiots, huh?"

El feels like her face might break. "Guess so."

They walk along silently observing others on the sidewalk for a little more before Mike speaks again. "Bet you're wondering why I told you that, right?"

She was, but she wasn't going to say it. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well," says Mike dramatically, "If it wasn't already obvious, I still like you. A lot more now, actually. If this keeps going at the rate it's going then I'm about to fall in love with you."

El doesn't respond for a moment and she swears she can hear him swallow.

"Was that too much?" He asks, and she can hear the nervousness in his voice back in full force. "It's totally cool if you don't feel the same way, I just thought… you know… you should know."

She now has two options: either confess now or do it later in private, but she kind of doesn't want to wait. The sun is almost gone over the horizon, bathing the sky in brilliant reds and oranges, and it's warm and their walk has been so indescribably good that El just-

She has to stand on tiptoe to reach him, but she pulls Mike's head down by the back of his neck and kisses him.

Later, the group chat blows up.

Maxie [9:37 PM]: HWAT THE FUKC IS THIS

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IMG.294

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IS THIS REAL LIFE?

Dustin [9:38 PM]: or is this just fantasy…

Maxie [9:38 PM]: DUSTIN I DO NOT NEED U TO QUOTE QUEEN LYRICS AT ME I NEED AN EXPLANTAIAN

Maxie [9:38 PM]: ELEANOR HOPPER U EXPLAIN UR RECENT RIGHT TEH FKUC NOW

El had posted a picture she'd taken with Mike by the river after their unexpected confessional. He had his arm around her shoulders as he took the photo and she had hidden her face against his chest out of embarrassment, but she ended up liking the picture so much that she posted it to her Instagram captioned simply with a heart. Max had sent a screenshot of it to the group and also left multiple scandalized comments on the post itself.

Maxie [9:39 PM]: MICHAEL EXPLAIN THIS

Maxie [9:39 PM]: I WILL TELL UR MOTHER

The two of them are watching Max's messages come in on El's phone and at this, El starts laughing as Mike whips out his own phone to start typing furiously.

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: DONT TELL MY MOM

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: ID LIKE TO HAVE A GIRLFRIEND IN PEACE FOR A LITTLE BEFORE SHE FINDS OUT

Maxie [9:40 PM]: OH SO SHES UR GIRLFRIEND NOW???????????

Maxie [9:40 PM]: ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

Will [9:41 PM]: but are you really surprised tho?

Will [9:41 PM]: idk about you guys but I was expecting this

Dustin [9:42 PM]: ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ *( ͡˘̴ ʖ̫ ͡˘̴ )* ･ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[9:42 PM]: love how Lucas is just absent

Will [9:42 PM]: he doesn't like chaos

Lucas [9:43 PM]: max was legit screaming my ear off sorry I was too busy recovering to answer

Lucas [9:43 PM]: but I'm happy for you guys

[9:43 PM]: we're happy too ty Lucas :)

After she sends that message, El looks away from her phone to find Mike looking at her with a warmth in his gaze that she's certain now is meant for her, and although their romance has only just begun, El feels deep inside herself that it's going to last a long time.

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. Max and Mike pushing each other through the entry and glaring, but now they smile when they see her behind the counter. Max waves and calls hello before making her way to a table, while Mike comes straight up to the register. El cashes him in and then starts making the coffees, all the while grinning because she can see her boyfriend watching her with that sappy smile of his in the reflection on the espresso machine.

"Iced coffee with milk and a chai latte?" She says, turning to hand the two drinks over.

Mike's floppy hair swings a little as he leans forward to give El the flightiest of kisses. "Thank you," he answers, picking up the cups. "We still on for later?"

El's smile doesn't falter. "Definitely."

"Great!" Mike starts to walk away toward Max, but then thinks better of it and retreats back to El for a second longer. He stands at the counter shuffling his feet until El boops his nose.

"What do you want, silly?"

He hesitates before saying, "I love you. I don't know why I'm still nervous, it's not like it's the first time I've said that."

El rolls her eyes. "I love you too. Now go bother Max, I'm working."

Mike gasps dramatically. "Why doth my fair lady rebuke me!"

"Shoo!"

He goes away. El watches the pair for a bit, just like she used to, but she isn't jealous anymore. She's happy.

#mileven #mileven fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #mike wheeler #eleven #jane hopper #el hopper #urdearestmom

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erikanyanko · 7 years

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Hello @ anon, @maknagisa and everybody else and welcome to the Tedtalk where I’m going to talk about why Rachel and Joey should’ve ended up together (aka. Why Joey was probably the best person for Rachel)

Now once again, I am a ride-or-die anti Ross Geller and Rachel’s brief thing with Joey was obviously intended to draw out the whole will Rachel and Ross get back together foolishness. BUT I AM HERE TO TELL YOU WHY RACHEL AND JOEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENDGAME!

Let’s start from the beginning. From the moment Rachel entered the show in her white wedding dress, Ross immediately sees her as a romantic prospect. His middle school crush is revived and in hyper drive. Joey, of course, walks up to her with “how YOU doin” (Joey’s standard of greeting to every hot women ever, not specific to Rachel) The thing is, Joey’s relationship with Rachel is platonic right from the beginning.

They have a genuine friendship.

They give each other dating advice. Though sometimes Joey’s advice can be very VERY questionable, at the end of the day it’s with good intentions. Joey went out of his way to set Rachel up with date with men HE THINKS she’ll like.

He let her come to his acting gigs and flirt with soap opera actors.

There’s no jealousy. There’s no possessiveness. There’s no sabotage foolishness. Just a friend helping out another friend find their lobster.

I’ll admit that Joey has a lot of problems (but don’t we all) but some of his best qualities is that he is not only SUPPORTIVE but PROTECTIVE of his relationships with women. Whenever Rachel, Monica, or Pheobe are in trouble, you can bet that Joey will be there to help. He genuinely loves them and will do ANYTHING to make sure that they happy.

HE MAKES RACHEL LAUGH (OH MY GOD, RACHEL WAS THE BEST WHEN SHE WAS WITH JOEY)

But let’s talk about the BEST part about Joey falling in love with Rachel. First of all they had a genuine friendship. They were roommates. But best of all, HE FELL FOR HER WHEN SHE WAS PREGNANT. Joey, the unapologetic promiscuous actor (the “shallow” guy), realizes he feels something more for Rachel other than friendship while she’s pregnant.

PLUS, it happens the way real healthy relationships do, THEY START SPENDING MORE TIME WITH EACH OTHER. Joey LEARNED to see Rachel as something more than friend. She was ALWAYS a friend first. Which was NEV ER EVER EVER true for Ross. (This is why, in my opinion, “nice guys” are a lot more shadier than openly unapologetic flirts like Joey)

Joey takes Rachel out on the fake date because she’s pregnant and misses going on fancy dates. THAT’S WHEN IT HAPPENS. THAT’S WHEN IT CLICKS FOR HIM. When he tells Rachel that he likes her more than a friend, she turns him down. AND HE’S OKAY WITH IT. He NEVER blames her and he DOESN’T let it impact the dynamic of their shared friend group. Their friendship stays intact and they cause NO DRAMA.Their friends aren’t forced to choose sides ROSS GELLER WHAT’S GOOD.

I AM STILL PISSED with the cop-out ending that when they did get together SUDDENLY all their chemistry evaporated. EXCUUUUUSSSEEEE YOU, THEY COULD’VE MADE IT WORK. If the writers really tried and cared enough for their characters, they could’ve made an ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC couple and a GENRE-DEFYING plot twist.

AND I’M JUST GETTING STARTED!

MY DUDES. MY. DUDES. It’s been 14 years, but there are nights when I just lay in bed and FUME that Rachel got off that FRICK FRACKLIN PLANE FOR ROSS. Ross trivialized her passions OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. In my opinion, Rachel’s career was always one of the highlights of her arc. Rachel was a spoiled privileged girl that never had to work a day in her life and then she hits rock bottom. She starts as a waitress and works her way to becoming a brilliant executive and super successful in ridiculously competitive field ON TOP OF BEING A SINGLE MOM.

AND IT WAS JOEY that got Rachel her first big break to get out of the coffee shop and into the fashion industry.

JOEY BRINGS OUT THE BEST IN RACHEL AND VISE VERSA. THEY MAKE EACH OTHER BETTER.

Reminder, Joey falls for Rachel when she’s PREGNANT. When he finds out that Rachel was looking for other apartments in order to get ready for the baby, what does Joey do? He BABYFIED THE APARTMENT JUST TO SHOW RACHEL THAT IT WASN’T A PROBLEM. He HAPPILY lets Rachel and Emma move back in with him DESPITE how much caring for Emma would disrupt his lifestyle.

The running joke about Joey bringing home terrible women ENDS AFTER RACHEL. Falling for Rachel LITERALLY teaches him that he wants something more than the chicks he used to pick up. He LEARNS! He starts loving Emma and stops being a terrible date punchline joke and TRIES to better himself.

AND HE’S GOOD FOR RACHEL.

LEMME TELL YOU, JOEY’S ROOMMATE RACHEL WAS MY FAVORITE RACHEL. SHE WAS AMAZING AF. ROCKING THE SHORT HAIR. PLAYING THE DRUMS. EATING SPAGHETTI OFF THE FLOOR. WATCHING CUJO. Joey teaches Rachel how to chill and not give a flying fuck. He brings out her fun side. She was cute. SHE WAS SILLY.

Her relationship with Ross was nothing but EXHAUSTING. Always fighting, constant jealousy and possessiveness, the DRAMA. Ross brought out the WORST in Rachel. She was snappy. She was harsh. She was uptight and it always felt like she could go off at any minute.

Think about it

Would you rather be with someone who you KNEW had sex with someone right after you told them that your relationship needed a break or with someone who respected your feelings and CONTINUED to treat you the same even after you turned them down?

Joey RESPECTED Rachel’s feelings.

Ross ONLY cared about HIS NEED to win every single time.

Not to mention, Ross thinks Rachel (and pretty much everyone in their friend group) is intellectually beneath him. (Which is why that “just a waitress” cuts SO DEEP) Joey just thinks she’s the best. Joey and Rachel giggling at “homoerectus” during Ross’s keynote speech is FUNNY. I laughed too. Who HASN’T laughed at a good old penis joke.

Rachel becoming Mrs. Geller is essentially a one-way ticket to a lifelong time of being treated like a child who doesn’t know any better. And this is NOT because Rachel isn’t smart. It’s because ROSS doesn’t think she’s smart. No matter how high she advances, to Ross she’ll always be that popular high school chick that he fell in love with.

The bottom line is, Ross never outgrew his teenage fantasy that was most likely an illusion from the very beginning (don’t get me started on how much of a creeper he was back in the day).

Whereas Joey fell in love with an intelligent, funny, strong, independent single mother he’d been friends with for a good 7 years and knew exactly who Rachel was inside and out.

“But Monica and Rachel can be sisters if she marries Ross”

There is NO ONE IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE that loves Rachel more than Monica and vice versa. They NEVER needed Ross to become sisters. They already were from the very beginning.

Ross and Rachel were endgame because that’s how the sitcom plots goes. Not because they were RIGHT for each other. That’s where the show was always heading BUT JUST IMAGINE HOW FRIENDS COULD HAVE CHANGE SITCOM HISTORY IF RACHEL AND JOEY REALIZED THEY WERE EACH OTHER’S LOBSTER.

And that’s my Tedtalk

#friends #long post #I just have a lot of thoughts about rachel and joey

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ifuckinglovestvincent · 7 years

Text

NEWSTATESMAN: “It’s cool that some people hate my show”: St Vincent on fan backlash and Chinese massages

The singer messages me on Twitter the next day. “Dude!” she says, “I’m sorry I was a cock.”

By Alexandra Pollard

9 November 2017

Maybe if St Vincent and I had got massages together, things would have been different. If we’d gone for a hike in the scorching midday sun of Burbank, California, or sat in a small pink box getting high off paint fumes, perhaps we’d have had a better time. She’s done those things with other journalists during this press cycle, in an effort to disrupt the stale dynamic of interviews – of which, she told BBC Music from inside that newly painted box, she’s done “a million”. As it is, we’re sitting in her room on the 12th floor of a London hotel, and things aren’t going well.

St Vincent, AKA Annie Clark, is in the early stages of a 37-date world tour in support of her new album, Masseduction. The shows – which she’s doing without a band, opting instead to accompany her own fearsome guitar with rearranged backing tracks – are fascinating, sometimes exhilarating affairs. She doesn’t throw herself around the stage in a self-flagellating fervour, as she did a few years ago on the Digital Witness tour, nor this time has she employed the shuffling, robotic choreography of Annie-B Parson.

Instead, Clark exposes herself in a different way – by carrying the show alone. As a blue curtain gradually pulls back to reveal nothing in particular, she places herself in various positions across the stage. Sometimes she faces the audience, sometimes she stands side-on as if utterly unaware of their presence. At one point she curls up in the foetal position on the floor. The idea, she says, is to plot the trajectory from fear to freedom.

“Some people loved it and were brought to tears and thought it was the best thing they’d ever seen, and then some people were incensed by it,” Clark explains. She was in Manchester last night, London the night before. Now, she’s draped over a black chaise-longue, demonstrably exhausted, her feet spilling on to the armchair beside her (when I ask if she’s tired, she says flatly, “I don’t care, my emotions are irrelevant.”)

Does she mind that the shows, particularly her decision to play without a live band, have received such a polarised response? “Whatever,” she says. “I think it’s cool that some people hate it.” She rolls her neck around to glance at me – the semi-horizontal position she’s taken has thus far meant minimal eye contact. “Did you hate the show?”

Not at all, I tell her. I really liked it. Then I add, in an effort to avoid bland effusiveness and because she’s still looking at me with a sceptical eyebrow raise, that perhaps I found it more intriguing than moving, and anyway it would have been hard to beat the experience I had seeing her at End Of The Road festival a few years ago. I realise too late that my words have landed with a leaden thud.

“Great,” Clark says. “It’s the third show. I mean, when I played End Of The Road, that was one of the last dates I did. Tours take a while to alchemise.” She pauses. “Also, if a rapper got up on stage and didn’t have a live band, which most of them don’t, no one would be bummed at all. Why is the assumption that I need to have a live band onstage for something to be authentic? It’s about the management of expectation, and I think it’s similar to people thinking that they have a glass of milk, and then they drink it and it’s Sprite. ‘I don’t like this.’ Actually you like Sprite too, you just weren’t expecting it.”

St. Vincent has made a career out of giving people something they weren’t quite expecting. Her music is bold and melodic – but only if you catch it at certain angles, like a magic eye book that only makes sense if you squint the right way. With each album since her chamber pop debut Marry Me a decade ago, she’s pushed her sound further towards a place between beauty and ugliness, aggression and vulnerability, adding scuzzy synth layers, distorted guitar riffs so heavy they drag half a second behind the beat, and lyrics both profoundly moving and a little grotesque – images of severed fingers, for example, that anchor a tale of drunken heartbreak.

Masseduction, her fifth LP (or sixth, if you count her David Byrne collaboration Love This Giant), is a poignant, kinky masterpiece. It’s a work of staggering frankness, with anthemic pop melodies that float atop crunchy riffs and gasping synths, as Clark’s fingers wring out every peculiarly arresting sound a guitar can make. She has a pithy tagline for each of her albums. 2011’s Strange Mercy was housewife on pills; her self-titled record was near-future cult leader; this one is dominatrix at the mental institution.

She sings of loss and depression, of BDSM and pill popping, vacuous cities and self-destructive urges. Her voice is pure and resplendent, but it also creaks, stretches into a sigh or plummets to a growl. On “Hang On Me”, as she pleads with someone, “Please, oh please don’t hang up yet,” a million unsaid things pour into the cracks in her voice.

“If you want to know about my life,” she told fans in a statement when the album was announced – aware both of her historic inscrutability and of the increased thirst for personal revelations her relationship with supermodel Cara Delevingne had prompted – “listen to this record”.

Clark performing this Summer. Photo: Getty

In the past, Clark has recoiled at the suggestion that her songs are diaristic, saying that such an idea “presupposes – in a kind of sexist way – this idea that women lack the imagination to write about anything other than their exact literal lives.” Still, this record is a little different to the others. “It’s very close to my heart. It’s not literal, because if it was literal it wouldn’t be art, but you know, it’s very heart on sleeve.”

Is there a particular way she hopes people interpret it? “No,” she says, exasperated. “There’s not. I’m happy to be misunderstood. It’s not even about being ‘misunderstood’, it’s just up for interpretation. Any interpretation is fine, as long as it’s not, ‘She’s a racist, sexist or homophobe’. I’d be bummed if someone thought that. I’m not the one writing the think pieces on it. That’s not my job. My job’s to make a thing, it’s not to do all the interpreting and explaining. That’s didactic, and shows a profound lack of respect for the audience’s intelligence.”

Hoping she might be open to at least a small amount of explaining, I put it to Clark that there’s a restless quality to the album. She’s quite often leaving, or being left, or wanting to leave. On “Slow Disco”, a plaintive orchestral waltz and one of the most beautiful songs she’s written, she asks, “Am I thinking what everybody’s thinking? I’m so glad I came, but I can’t wait to leave.” Did she notice that theme running through the album’s veins? “Yes.” I wait for more, but instead she pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts typing. “Keep asking away.”

I do as she says, but the air in the room is uncomfortable. I wonder if I should clarify what I said about the show, but I think the moment’s passed. I forge on instead. In a previous interview, Clark said that “Slow Disco” was about how “the life you’re living, and the life you should be living, are running parallel.” Is there a life she feels she should be living? “Yeah,” she says, phone still out. “I should be in Turks and Caicos with a fucking pina colada coming out of a coconut, just getting a sick tan.”

“I mean, I don’t even think I should be living,” she adds, before puffing air out of her lips. “Hilarious joke. No, I feel super lucky that I’m living the life I am. Everything I’ve ever done, every person I’ve ever met, every experience I’ve ever had, is because I got good enough at moving my fingers at micro-movements across a piece of wood and steel. That’s bonkers.”

That’s a fairly self-deprecating assessment of how St Vincent got to where she is. Her inimitable skill at moving her fingers at micro-movements across a piece of wood and steel – more commonly known as playing the guitar – is part of it, but there’s an intrigue and charisma to her music, and the persona she presents, that goes far beyond technical skill. It’s an intangible talent, one that has steadily drawn her into the limelight – though it was her self-titled fourth album that really thrust her into the big leagues, topping a handful of Albums of 2014 lists, and earning her a Grammy for Best Alternative Music Album.

Clark with ex-girlfriend Cara Delevingne. Photo: Getty.

Then she fell in love with someone unthinkably famous, and was thrust into a more insidious kind of limelight, the kind where paparazzi followed her around, where tabloid journalists tricked her relatives into revealing painful personal information, the kind that fuelled her anxiety and depression. Though being on the road for endless stretches of time didn’t help with that. In an appearance on the New Yorker’s podcast, she said that between her self-titled album and this one, she needed to do a “radical reorganising of my life in order to fulfil my destiny as a creative person”.

“Oh my god! Who am I, Jim Jones?” she says laughing, when I quote this back to her. “Wow. I said that? It’s like a Paulo Coelho meets Jim Jones inspirational talk. I think I meant that I was just in a monastic period, I just wasn’t drinking or having sex or really doing anything that you’d consider fun.” The only pleasure she allowed herself was getting Chinese massages in New York City. I’ve never had a massage, I tell her. Perhaps I have a lifetime of tension. She looks aghast. “You probably do. You carry it with you, you know?”

Did she find it helpful, this monastic period? “Oh it was so generative. I got so much done. Completely eschewing certain things that can otherwise take up a fair amount of time left so much time to be productive. I really loved that time. Being on tour is just a different kind of energy. It’s performance all the time. Obviously I’m not putting on my best performance for you today.” She laughs again. The icy atmosphere is starting to melt, but our time’s up.

I bid Clark goodbye. She would get up, she says, but she’s too tired. I’m glad we managed to drag the encounter towards conviviality, but – though I’m sure she won’t spend another second dwelling on it – I don’t think either of us had much fun.

The next morning, my phone buzzes. Clark’s messaged me on Twitter. “Dude!” she says, “I’m sorry I was a cock.” She explains that she was exhausted, “which is not an excuse”, but that she’d felt especially defensive because she’d been getting negative tweets about the show all day, and had thought my comments were an attempt to go for the jugular. “I really misread the interaction,” she says, “and have been feeling horribly guilty ever since. I thought you were just there to tell me my show sucked and I got real defensive and yeah, it went downhill from there.”

As it turns out then, her emotions aren’t irrelevant. She feels things deeply, all the time. You can hear it in her music, in every riff, every crack in her voice, every line about loss, or leaving, or wanting to leave. Those negative tweets were sprinkled amongst a litany of praise, but – though she wore an insouciant armour when we met – she clung to them anyway. “You carry it with you, you know?” I hope she carries the good things too. I hope she gets some sleep.

Source: https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/music-theatre/2017/11/it-s-cool-some-people-hate-my-show-st-vincent-fan-backlash-and-chinese?amp

#st vincent #annie clark #interviews #SENSITIVE LITTLE PEA #▱

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minaminokyoko · 7 years

Text

A ‘Justice League’ Rant

Foreword

Alright, DC fans. Before you light your torches and grab your Aquaman pitchforks and set off a rousing chorus of "Kill the Beast" when you read my review/rant, I am going to attempt to set the mood and explain myself. Some of you won't care. Some of you won't even read the whole thing before you jump onto your keyboards and proclaim that I'm just a stupid girl who doesn't understand comic books and comic book movies and that the Justice League movie is great and it's better than all the Marvel movies.

Let me stop you right there.

This ain't about the Marvel movies.

This is about DC and Warner Bros and filmmaking in general.

I don't have it out for DC/WB. I don't have it out for the DCEU. This anger and disappointment is not a result of the 20+ Marvel Cinematic Universe's successful run. This anger and disappointment comes from deep inside a little girl who at the tender age of six or seven first realized what kind of person she wanted to be when she saw Batman: Mask of the Phantasm for the first time. One of my earliest memories was seeing the pain and torment that Bruce Wayne went through after he fell in love with Andrea and he wanted so desperately for it to be okay that he loved her and that he didn't want to keep his promise anymore. I have loved DC since I was old enough to love anything. I love Batman so much that I have his symbol tattooed on my right shoulder. Dead serious. He is my guiding light and he has been since I was six years old.

So, once more, I want you to understand that the reason I hate the Justice League movie is not because I dislike DC.

The reason I hate the Justice League movie is that the Justice League movie hates me.

This movie is hollow. It is a hollow farce. It took six of the most beloved characters in fictional history and stripped them of all the reasons why they have been beacons of entertainment since their inception and plastered them on a cheap ass green screen and shoved it out into the world to make a quick buck. There was no passion, no heart, and no creativity in this film. It doesn't have an original thought in its damn head. Not one. Everything I saw was something I've seen before elsewhere, and it was done better elsewhere. If you don't believe me, fine. Let's go point-by-point. I will fully explain every reason why I almost demanded my money back after sitting through this poisonous flick.

-The plot is so unbelievably thin you couldn't stretch it farther than a couple of inches. Forgetting the fact that Batman vs. Superman was one of the worst films ever, picking up where it left off somehow just made it hurt even worse since we had to acknowledge the fact that it exists and then have to build another plot from the resulting shitstorm. So we begin with Crazy Steve (Note: I refuse to call him Batman or Bruce Wayne, because BatAffleck is neither. He in no way represents any Batman other than Linkara's epithet Crazy Steve from his reviews.) catching a burglar (with a literal sack of stolen shit on his back, like he's a fucking crook from the 1950's or something) and then a parademon appears and he kills it. So...first of all, was Crazy Steve there for the crook and the parademon just happened to be there? Or was Crazy Steve there for the parademon and he just used the crook? That makes absolutely no sense. Those two things didn't need to be there together. It's a plot contrivance of the highest order. It was also unnecessary as fuck. You could have just had Crazy Steve on patrol and he saw the demon, caught it, and then it died. After seeing this, the jump from 'hey, a weird alien’ to 'ZOMG WE GOTTA GET THE BAND BACK TOGETHER' is liable to give you fucking whiplash. Crazy Steve immediately jumps to "putting a team together" when he has such little evidence of the calamity, and it's even more absurd since Crazy Steve has NO experience working with a team. At most, Jason Todd existed at some point, but that's it. He doesn't know anything about metahumans aside from maybe what Amanda Waller mentioned to him at the end of the equally abysmal Suicide Squad. Further more, he just starts trying to collect these people without explaining why they should just arbitrarily trust a man they just fucking met who dresses up like a giant fucking bat. I mean, would you? Really? Especially knowing that he tried to kill Superman on incredibly flimsy reasoning? How do you know he won't immediately turn on you if you turn your head and cough and seem like a threat to him? Crazy Steve had no way of knowing aside from Diana that any of these people were stable enough to form a team and try to fight an unknown enemy. It was so rushed. He just whisks them away and doesn't blink at revealing his secret identity to four perfect fucking strangers (though Diana arguably doesn't count; she's much more level-headed and hasn't shown a propensity for losing it at the slightest provocation.)

-There is no team dynamic. At all. It's just a room full of superpowered people. The closest thing to a relationship is between Crazy Steve and Wondy, and even then, they maybe have three whole fucking conversations, and none of them are beyond superficial. It's like the movie was afraid of making an actual development, so it just kept throwing inane quips around in the hopes of distracting you from the fact that there are no characters. The whole reason the Justice League itself as a concept excites me is because you have this room full of colorful personalities with different backgrounds who come together for the common good and want to help mankind and protect the innocent. We don't know barely anyone's motivations because this movie is running off the fumes of a bad sequel. We know Wonder Woman's motivations for the most part, but having the JLA movie before her sequels still leaves a large piece of the mythos missing because we don't know how she adjusted to modern life. We don't know if she lost faith in humanity again or where she stands because we were still in the 1940's when we last saw her. Cyborg's backstory is mentioned, but his motivations are also non-existent. We get the whole "I'm a monster" thing but they immediately move on from any possible origin or explanation of what he's going through and what he wants to do since he's got these abilities but could be seen as a freak to normal people. The Flash also got a driveby explanation, but again, without prior films or history, we basically have to guess what motivates him. I know Barry Allen because I'm a comic book fan, but your average person may not. It's completely unfair to them that you just jump from place to place without explaining how Barry got his speed, why his father's in jail, and why he just jumped at the chance to fight crime despite the fact that he doesn't know how to fucking fight apparently. It's so discourteous to the character to slap him in there and not tell us why. Why does he want to help anyone if he's scared? Why isn't he insanely rich by now from the various ways he could use his speed? And then, fuck me, Aquaman is the worst of the bunch. They make no attempts to explain anything about his background. Who is the red-haired lady? I know it's Mera because again, I am a comic book fan, but the chances that your average moviegoer knows are astronomical, and so they get to sit there completely confused about who she is and what she can do and what she means to Arthur. We don't know why Arthur was just chilling out around that one village and why he gave a single shit about humanity or how he got his powers or just...anything! Anything at all! Other than he's really mouthy and has a nice chest. Look, I might be able to overlook the depressing lack of explanation, but none of these characters bond with each other or have any reasons to care about one another. There are no human aspects to them because the only one so far who has been fully explored as a character aside from Wonder Woman is Crazy Steve. Crazy Steve got some development in BvS, but certainly not enough for you to emotionally connect with him because he was a revenge hungry psychopath in the previous film. The entire fucking point of the League is to see these interesting people butt heads, but then laugh and get along with each other and get ready to protect their home from threats. Here, they're just doing what Crazy Steve tells them to do because...reasons.

-Superman's resurrection. Holy fucking shit. I just spent the last twenty minutes ranting about this to one of my friends. Where do I even start with how goddamn stupid this shit is? It comes out of fucking nowhere. After this hastily slapped together team fights Steppenwolf one time, Crazy Steve in true Crazy Steve fashion decides that we should disgrace the dead and bring Superman back. Crazy Steve has no fucking idea how the Motherbox works. None. He has done no research, he has no knowledge of Kryptonian technology, nor is he at all aware of Darkseid and the New Gods' technology. But he's like, "Nah, bruh, we all suck and we need Superman." As an aside, I am really angry at how this movie is sucking that Kryptonian cock too. How dare you. How dare you imply that these badass heroes who were doing just fine on their own in the comics and animated shows need Superman like he's their fucking babysitter. Maybe if you had established the team dynamic and established the characters, they'd be able to fight better. Crazy Steve took one fucking look at the team that had been together a grand total of like four fucking hours and decided they were all gonna die without Superman's help. It's not only reckless and poorly thought out, it's honestly insulting. It's insulting that Crazy Steve would drag Kal El from heaven (because, for real, it's entirely possible he was in literal paradise and you sorry motherfuckers took him away from his parents and his loved ones of Krypton for your selfish asses) just on the assumption that the team wasn't strong enough. My God. I am just floored by this development in the movie. It pisses me off that the movie just shrugs and acts like it was for the best to spit in the face of God and drag Kal back to earth. Maybe you shouldn't have killed him in the first fucking place, you shitlords. And it's more frustrating to me since in the comics, after DC panicked and wrote in the "regenerative coma" that they didn't just use that instead. I'd be less angry if they introduced the idea that he was never dead to begin with, but in the death-like coma. It's a cop out, but it's better than literally Frankensteining Superman from heaven to fight your fucking battle for you.

-The dialogue is painful. So painful. It is so tacked on. I went to the theater tonight at 3:50pm and I'd say there was maybe 20-25 people in there and they laughed twice. You heard me. Twice. That was an almost two hour movie, and the audience only laughed twice. Hell, I only laughed once, and it was at the end credits scene where Superman jokes that The Flash is off the team if he loses. That was the only genuine line that I heard out of this movie. It's so apparent that the studio was trying to course correct the film away from the drab, hopeless "vision" of Zack Snyder. It doesn't work. The humor misses by a mile because it's just so awkward. These versions of the heroes take themselves way too seriously, or the quips are directed at the wrong characters. Aquaman is introduced pretty much as a dumb dudebro with a devil-may-care attitude. His snarky dialogue is fine, but when you try to have Crazy Steve the focus of a joke, it falls flat since he's a killer and an asshole and the levity doesn't feel right. There's a little tingle on the back of your neck from how awkward it is when someone makes a joke and then there's this awkward silence afterward because the movie assumes you need a minute to laugh. No, movie. No. If you want a joke to land, you need either timing or context. Pointing out the fact that Crazy Steve wears a batsuit isn't inherently funny. You need context. The "I'm rich" line is a better example of a joke that should have landed, but didn't because it was in the trailer. That has context. That is humor. Just having The Flash say things out loud that he sees isn't funny. Having him be awkward around Crazy Steve isn't funny because the two of them don't know each other and Crazy Steve is mostly straight-faced and so the lines slide off of him like dung. Diana is a better example, as she gives off a very warm presence. For example, Cyborg remarking that Diana needed to keep the merman off him almost landed because the two of them have at least held a conversation and so it feels natural that he might finally make a joke around her. It also landed better because Diana is definitely the only one who appears to have a heart. Everything else is just a vain attempt to lighten the mood, but it just clashes with the deadly serious tone everything else is shot with.

-Not explaining the mythology. Jesus Christ. I'm one of those people who believes that you cannot make a film and just sneer at your audience and go, "Oh, just read the comics if you want to know what's going on!" No. You are not allowed to do that. Film is not an add on. In a film, you are charged with telling a comprehensive story with characters who develop and change over the course of their adventure. That is storytelling 101, and this movie utterly fails. It does just like Suicide Squad where it just starts throwing names at you and not telling you who anyone is with the assumption that "only comic book nerds are watching this anyway" or "well, there are only children watching and they don't care to know who everyone is, they just want to see things get smashed." Wrong. You are wrong. We don't know Steppenwolf, we don't know Darkseid, we don't Apocalypse, we don't know Lanterns, we don't know Atlantis, we don't know jackshit as an audience! And yet they just jam all these names down your throat and expect you to be able to pay attention when you have about ninety thousand questions in your head during the course of the fucking movie. Films should find common ground with the audience. Some mystery is good. Throwing in small cameos or references can feel like a nice garnish to the mythology, but this movie just glosses over everything and thinks it's fine. None of this stuff has been established aside from Krypton and Kryptonian technology. You're doing everyone a disservice by refusing to lay the foundation for the villain and the premise of the plot.

-The effects are mostly atrocious. Out of everything I've cited here, this makes the least amount of sense to me. This is WB, for God's sake. Time Warner. You have all the money in the fucking world and this is the best you can do? I mean, the Dark Knight trilogy alone should have you funded for every superhero movie for the next ten years, and yet we get Henry Cavill's Uncanny Valley mouth as a result of the childish fucking dispute over his mustache, we get CGI that looks like it's from the goddamn Spawn movie at times, and then every single thing is shot from an obvious green/blue room that it feels like the fucking Phantom Menace all over again. I never felt like anything they were doing was real. I mean, to me, it felt like the only set in the whole fucking movie was the Batcave. They are so obviously on a soundstage the entire time and none of the backgrounds blend, and they don't even bother with smaller things like having the wind blow or the colors change or the shadows move to trick your brain into accepting the CGI. Oh, and why Digi-Bat? I'm flabbergasted as to why 80% of Crazy Steve's scenes are digital. He's the non-powered team member. Why wasn't it just a stunt guy? Was Ben Affleck really that fat and lazy that he didn't want to do any fight scenes? It was like watching a freaking PlayStation 1 game whenever he fought someone. My guess is that this project got rushed after shooting and reshoots and so instead of going over the effects with a fine toothed comb and adding layers onto them so that the scenes felt real, they just gave up and only touched them up. Now, I'm not talking about things like Cyborg where it was a front and center integrated effect. Even though I still hate his design (to me, he looks like a Black Ken doll head on a Terminator body), I believed he was there and moving around. Aside from him, though? Nah, bruh. I didn't believe anyone was doing anything.

-The fight scenes were worthless. Again, I'm confused as to how this was even logistically possible. Let's recap: we've got a guy who can run faster than the speed of sound, a dude who can swim on top of Great White Sharks and punch craters into the ocean floor, a kid who has rocket boots and an arm cannon, a woman who can deflect bullets and shoot sonic blasts with her bracelets, a guy who can shoot lasers, fly, use ice breath, run faster than a speeding bullet, and is stronger than anything ever, and lastly a man who knows every martial arts style known to man on top of having a belt with endless nifty gadgets on it. Put that all together. You should be shitting amazing fight scenes, and yet everything last one of them was bland and forgettable. The true lack of passion in the film is what is on display with these boring fight scenes. It's so repetitive. Aquaman throws his pitchfork. Wondy swings her sword or hits her bracelets together. Batman swings. Flash runs and pushes. Superman punches. That's it. Are you fucking kidding me? I can name about a thousand different cool scenarios that we could have seen with these unique powers, and yet we saw the same moves with no creativity to them. Want an example? I personally thought the Wonder Woman movie was just okay, but I at least commend them for using her agility and her invulnerability properly to create excellent visuals for how powerful and capable she is. She smashes. She grabs and throws and uses combat techniques that a warrior race would know. It is very clear when she fights that someone gave a shit and wanted to make you feel like you were a part of the action and to give you something stunning to look at. Granted, I wasn't stunned because I've seen better, but if Wonder Woman had come out in the 90's before I had seen better, then it would have blown my socks off. The JLA movie's fight scenes are tired as hell and like the movie itself, it feels like they are just checking shit off a list. It's an afterthought. There's so little effort involved, and it matches the overall tired tone I was getting out of it all. I want to believe in these heroes. I want to be dazzled by them. I want to be inspired by them. I want the feeling I used to get when I watched the Nolan trilogy--where I knew Bruce Wayne as a character and as a person and I knew his limitations and his passion and his drive, but I also know how and when he was gonna kick some ass and that I was going to be able to enjoy the different creative ways I got to watch him kick some ass. Justice League does not have any of that vigor or wonder or splendor to its fight scenes. They are as thoughtless and calculated as the rest of the movie felt. You want examples? Pop in the first few episodes of the Justice League animated series. I implore you to sit down and watch the way that the team came together, even though we had the history of Batman and Superman previously. Then I want you to move forward to Justice League Unlimited. Watch those. Watch how they use their powers and personalities to not only provide fun, colorful, exciting fight sequences, but how the chemistry between the team members enhances the urgency of the fight and the overall enjoyment of the fight. That's what this movie is missing.

I can write another five pages' worth of criticism, but when I boil everything down to a single point it is this--the Justice League movie is a rushed, soulless attempt to cash in by manipulating the fans into accepting the massive lowering of their standards in our post-Dark Knight Trilogy years of DC/WB.

And I am begging the fans who have done this, accepted this movie and put on blinders to its problems simply because you love DC and you want to say that they made a good movie, please stop it.

I'm not saying you're wrong for enjoying it. If you did, good for you. But what I want you to do is stop letting them play you in this fashion. Because that's what they're doing. They know your heart. They know you have characters that you love that you want to see on the silver screen because they are important to you for whatever reason, and so you are purposely ignoring massive flaws so that you can enjoy what they are sloppily slapping into your eyeballs. I'm saying that you deserve the effort. You are worth the effort of making a movie worthy of these heroes we all love so much. I just want you to know that. You deserve a movie where everyone has a storyline and is developed. You deserve a storyline where the plot makes sense and the team has chemistry and a reason to be a team in the first place. Don't lower your standards so that this movie glides above them. Hold it to the right standards and demand that they do better next time. Don't give them a passing grade. You do have other options. You have the animated films, you have the television shows, you have comic books by the bucketload, and you can make a difference and demand that the filmmakers do these characters justice (cue rimshot) by telling them that this movie is a disappointment and refraining from going to see it again or from buying the DVD. Money talks. Hollywood will laugh off reviews, but that box office shock gets them every time. After all, even though the jokes were last second and tacked on, the fact that we all hated BvS made them change something to try to course correct. You did that. You made a difference. And you can do it again. You can help force them to give you the movie you deserve. You should want that. You should want that for yourself and I want that for you as well.

So if you gotta fight me, fight me. Fine. I'll rebutt you to the ends of the earth if you feel the need to go that far. I'm not trying to trash a thing you love. I love it too and I want them to put some fucking effort into these films and make them as amazing as they should be.

Until that time...I guess come at me, bro.

#Justice League #Justice League movie #Zack Snyder #rant #movie review #film review

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