#in case you have not been following along i have an ugly christmas sweater party at work coming up

[fitsinthepalm]

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Christmas Figurines and Mistletoe | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Could you write something about being caught under the mistletoe with Damian Wayne? Fluffy and really mutty.

✦ warnings — nsfw, reader has a vagina, making out, vaginal sex, pouty Damian, jealousy if you squint, fluff.

✦ author’s note — I assumed anon meant smutty instead of mutty.

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Damian was driving you crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. You were regretting staying at Titan Tower instead of going Christmas shopping with your friends.

You had assumed they would need the bonding moment on their own. They would spend Christmas at the tower while you would do so at home, it was only fair.

The problem was that you didn’t think Damian would come to the tower so early. He had said he’d come by that evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Christmas party you all convinced him to throw.

He hated almost everything. And you were terrified of showing him the Christmas tree because it was... a lot.

Explaining to him that Christmas was supposed to be colorful and that meant things looking tacky here and there would be pointless. He had been clear on what he didn’t want to see.

Damian clenched his jaw as he stood in front of the tree. “Why are the lights off?”

“The Tower’s empty.”

“You are here,” he said drily. “What did you do?”

You immediately defended yourself, “I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t here when the tree was decorated. You sent Jon and me on that quick mission, remember?”

Damian grunted, nodding. To your horror, he lit the tree up himself. A strange sound spluttered from his throat, and he turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Damian, come on! It’s cheerful.”

“Who was the genius who decided that colorful lights and colorful ornaments were a good look?”

“I don’t know... Christmas trees come from a German tradition, and—“

He interrupted you, exasperated, “This specific tree!”

You shrugged. The tree had already been decorated when you came back, just like the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. Damian hated it, it looked cluttered according to him.

He picked a ceramic figurine and examined it. “This is the sloppiest paint job I’ve ever seen.”

“Most figurines come like that. Or with deformed faces.”

He placed it back in its place, turning around to examine you. “I find it interesting,” he mused, dragging his eyes to the microwave which was decorated by a Christmas themed microwave cover, “that you seem to know a lot about figurines and their flaws.”

“I didn’t buy them if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You bought Christmas mugs for everybody.”

“Yes, but I didn’t buy those!” Seeing him incredulously lift his eyebrows, you groaned. “Look, those figurines are common in most households. My mom loves them. That’s it, that’s how I know how flawed the come.”

“What will you do if I inspect your bedroom and more of those ugly things are there?”

You slanted your head, making a motion for him to exit the kitchen with you. “Come. Inspect it.”

You lead the way, more relieved than exasperated. He would drop it once he realized you didn’t have anything to do with it, he always did.

Before he could cross the kitchen’s doorway, Damian halted his steps behind you, grasping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You turned around, now confused.

He looked up to the top of the doorframe. His eyes stayed there and he remained silent which prompted you to look up too.

You shifted as mistletoe came to view. “I— I didn’t put that there... I didn’t even know somebody had bought it!” You attempted to move, hoping he would drop his hands. When he didn’t, you said, “I’ll get it off.”

Damian’s grip on your hips tightened. “Not following the tradition would bring us bad luck,” he explained with ease.

Your stomach flipped. Damian wasn’t superstitious.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you’re right.”

You half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘I’m always right,’ but instead, he slowly leaned in. You did the same, meeting him in the middle. His lashes brushed your skin when his eyes lidded closed, prompting yours to flutter.

He kissed you softly, taking his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong. You tentatively placed your hands on his arms, ever so slightly tilting your head.

Pulling away, you nervously watched him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, not helping your case and making you feel giddy as he gazed at you.

He brought you in for another kiss, resting his lower back against the counter. Damian swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth for him.

His pleased hum sent shivers down your spine. As if it wasn’t enough to have you breathless, his hands lightly wandered to your back. His touch and kiss didn’t match in rhythm, and it only drove you crazier.

One of his hands fell onto your ass, then the other. You instinctively pushed your hips forward, hands flying to his shoulders. He grasped your asscheeks in both hands and pulled your hips flush against his.

A low whimper left your mouth, going directly down his throat as he swallowed it by kissing you harder.

He pushed you back. Assuming he needed space, you withdrew your hands from his shoulders. Damian briefly frowned, yet his grip tightened on you as he tried a different approach by walking you backward instead of pushing you.

“I still need to inspect your room,” he said, voice low as he analyzed your reaction.

You didn’t trust your voice so you merely nodded. It would have been easier to walk to your room by yourself, or with his hands still on you but actually looking where you were stepping.

The thought of walking slowly so you could savor the weight of his hands on your body was tempting. But Damian hated wasting time. And slow walkers.

Your room was underwhelming in comparison to your teammates’, in part because you didn’t have time to decorate and in part because you didn’t know what to do with the empty wall near the window therefore you couldn’t make up your mind about anything else.

“You can open any drawer you want,” you told him, ready to put the moment you had just shared to the side.

Damian gave you an incredulous look upon realizing you were being serious.

His eyes were as green as ever, watching you carefully as though he expected you to read his mind. Not for the first time, you wished you could.

His hands twitched on your ass. One of them softly caressed the area, drawing random patterns on your clothed asscheek.

“You can’t possibly think I brought you here to look for a stupid Christmas ornament.”

“So you brought me to my bedroom just to make out?”

”Let’s go with that,” he conceded. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

“Can’t let the team know about your crush on me?” you teased him before you could fully realize what you were saying. It was fun banter, meaningless.

Damian turned serious. “I’m certain they know by now, but I would rather not get caught groping your ass in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Wait... so you hung the mistletoe?”

“No. But I’m not above admitting I should thank whoever did it.” He firmly rested his hands on your ass, pushing his hips against yours. “Now, can we stop talking?”

“Sure.” You kissed him this time, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Soon, he had you on his lap as he sat on your bed, humping him while he kissed your neck. He inched your sweater up, brushing your belly with his fingertips.

“I want you,” you whined, aware that he would leave marks on your neck.

“I’m here,” he deadpanned, nipping at your throat as he continued lifting your sweater.

You stopped moving your hips, lightly shifting on his lap in order for your hands to reach his belt. He didn’t stop you, so you went on and unbuckled his belt before undoing his pants.

Damian made you stand up, not for a moment taking his hands off you. In contrast, your neck already missed his plump lips.

He undid your jeans in a hurry, lowering them down your knees along with your panties.

Bluntly, he asked, “You need me to finger you first?”

Feeling your face heat up as he intensely gazed at you in expectancy of an answer, you pulled one of your hands off his body and parted your folds.

You found embarrassing how wet he made you. Only able to shake your head, you avoided looking at him directly.

“Use your words,” he commanded softly.

“No,” you whispered. He shuffled, lifting his hips to get rid of his pants and boxers. The gesture made your skin tingle, and as you kicked your shoes and jeans off, you added, “I don’t need you to finger me.”

Hissing, Damian held his cock for you, looking down as you placed your palm on top of the back of his hand. Your hand replaced his, and you softly caressed his cock.

“Condom?”

He stretched his arm, slanting his body to the side as he reached for his wallet. He handed the condom to you without a word, throwing his wallet onto the floor.

Once you had rolled the condom down his cock, his gaze lifted. You straddled him again, slowly gliding down. A groan spurted from within him as you took your time to push inch after inch of his cock inside you.

Damian’s eyes were on your face, refusing to lose any detail of your reaction as he entered you for the first time.

You moaned, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He held you by the waist, holding his breath as you ever so slightly drove your hips forward.

The more you moved, the less he cared about whether he was loud or not. There hadn’t been signs of the team coming back, but you were certain Damian wouldn’t have cared either way.

He began moving his hips at your rhythm, only prompting you to roll your hips more enthusiastically as you sucked on his neck.

You tried to push him to lay down on the bed, but he stopped you, speaking softly. “Wait. It’s hot in here.”

Feeling empty as you moved away from his lap in order to get rid of your remaining clothes, you entertained yourself by admiring his body as he did the same.

Damian grabbed your hand, bringing you on top of him as he laid on his back. He kissed you, holding the back of your head with a hand as the other rested on your lower back.

Such placement made it extremely easy for him to roll you over so he could be on top, and the distraction his lips bestowed upon you a calculated move.

“Meanie,” you lightheartedly panted on his mouth.

He huffed a laugh, giving you a short kiss. “You seem to like it.” Damian dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, briefly teasing you before shoving it inside you.

He caressed your thighs as he started to thrust in slow strokes, teasing you some more as he controlled his breath.

Bottoming out, Damian tightened his grip on your thighs. He rolled his hips, and by your request started going faster.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, whimpering freely. This time you were the one who didn’t care if the tower was still empty.

His mouth hovered over yours. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, and by the way he was smiling at you, he surely knew.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he told you, lips brushing against yours. “Even more beautiful than in my imagination.”

You canted your hips up, desperate for more. More of him, of his voice, of everything he was willing to give.

And he granted you such wishes, picking up his pace, kissing you, gripping your thighs just the way you liked it even though he had no way to know.

Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to have him closer. It was impossible to do so, yet you had to give it a try.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you announced.

As though your words had been a demand for him to make you come already, he pressed his fingers on your clit and started rubbing as he thrust inside you.

Tired and spent, you felt his weight fall on top of your front. Damian kissed the side of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

Eventually, you softly pushed him off you and begrudgingly left the bed in direction to the bathroom.

You were washing your legs with the showerhead when Damian entered the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the second drawer if you also want to wash yourself,” you informed him.

He opened said drawer as you shut the water. He didn’t make any move for a moment, but he took a clean towel nonetheless.

You patted your skin dry, moving out of his way so he could use the shower.

“You had condoms here,” he observed.

“Well, I didn’t know which type of condom you preferred...”

“Oh, are those somebody else’s preferred ones?”

You slipped a clean pair of panties on. He watched you. “Please tell me you’re not actually angry because of this.”

“Your shower gel smells nice,” he opted for saying.

You hummed. “It’s new. I got tired of the blue one.”

Giving him privacy, you exited the bathroom and decided to check the mattress in case you needed to change the bedding.

Back in your bedroom, Damian silently put his boxers back on. He didn’t bother with his pants nor his shirt.

“I’m not angry,” he finally stopped avoiding the subject.

You tried not to frown. “You’re pouting.”

His expression turned blank. “I don’t pout.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Come to the Christmas party with me.”

“I’ll be at the party either way.”

“Yes,” he gritted before inhaling deeply. “But I want you to be with me. As my date.”

“What would the difference be?” You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. “We know everybody already.”

“For one, it would help me sleep at night.” He took you by the face with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded weird due to the pressure of his fingers on your cheeks

Damian gave you a sweet kiss, loosening his grip on your face to cup your cheek. You softly placed your hand on the back of his head, giving him another kiss. And another, and another, until you lost count.

[yikestripes]

Under the Mistletoe

request: Hey, I've got a Spence request! It's Christmas at the FBI, and the team has done Secret Santa, and you got Spencer, your best friend who you have fancied since you started at the FBI 5 years ago. You all go to Rossi's to spend the evening and morning, so you can all drink & not drive home. After presents and a few drinks, you and Spence end up under the mistletoe where he declares his feelings in front of the whole team, who encouraged him to tell you how he feels, before you arrived to the party

a/n: i didn’t expect to write this much, it was 7 pages on google docs. i am pretty proud of this tho.

warnings: FLUFF

word count: 3.6k

You looked around at the lights and garland that had adorned the bullpen as you entered the BAU for the first time after arriving home from the case. You grinned from ear to ear like a child as you took in the sight. Spencer was right behind you, pausing to take in the sight beside you. He looked down at you, still in awe, and smiled. You looked so beautiful to him under all those shining lights, and you just looked happier than you had in recent weeks. Christmas was usually tough for you anyway, and this year was no exception. Nonetheless, you persevered. Rossi had been planning a BAU Christmas party for a little bit over a month, with the help of you and Garcia, to make it the most magical Christmas any of you had had in a pretty long time. Needless to say, getting home from the case was more exciting than it usually was.

You tugged your go bag back to your desk and plopped down in your chair, rubbing your eyes. It was around 7pm and you all were going to Rossi’s right from the office to start the festivities. Knowing you wouldn’t be driving home, you had a second go bag packed and ready in your car, along with Spencer’s since you guys had carpooled. When you started at the BAU around 5 years ago, you and Spencer instantly became best friends. Granted, it took him a long time to really break out of his shell of awkwardness, but even then he was very comfortable around you. It was something about you that really made him feel, for lack of a better word, special. Not in the way that he was typically treated for being a genius, but just for being Spencer. That’s what Spencer loved most about you- the way you admired him for just being him. Not because he was a child prodigy and not because he was a genius. He was just Spencer.

Not to mention you always let him ramble and spill facts without ever telling him to shut up, or even interrupting him. Nevertheless, you quickly became very close, especially when you learned your apartment was right down the street from his. That’s when you two started carpooling to the office together. You always stopped at the local coffee shop or Starbucks to feed your coffee addictions, and went home around the same time every night. Spencer always made sure you made it inside safe, and vice versa. The funny thing was, for as incredible as you both were at your jobs as profilers for the BAU, neither of you had the faintest idea that you were in love with each other. Everyone in the entire building knew except for you two. Even Hotch was rooting for you two to get together.

“Ready to go, Spence?” You asked, shooting him a huge grin. He grins back and nods, throwing his bag over his head like he always did. You followed him out the door and to your car and drove yourselves to Rossi’s mansion. The ride was relatively quiet, Spencer had whipped out the book he started on the plane because he absolutely had to know how it ended, and of course he could finish it before you made it to Rossi’s.

“Did you do the secret santa?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep.” You smiled to yourself. You actually got Spencer, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Regardless of whether you had gotten him for secret santa, you were planning to get him a little something anyway. Actually, a few things. You wracked your brain for a few days, wondering what Dr. Spencer Reid would like that he didn’t already have. Of course, you started with a giftcard to his favorite bookstore, along with the newest edition of his favorite collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories. You also got him a giftcard to Starbucks, to make up for all the times he’d paid for your coffee, despite your protests. You made him your famous chocolate chip cookies and your favorite thing? The Halloween Christmas sweater you’d found and KNEW you had to get it for him. He never understood the point of an ugly Christmas sweater, so you figured you would get one that celebrates his favorite holiday with the edition of it celebrating Christmas. You could already see the look on his face when he opened his gifts later that night.

“Hey Spence, can you help me?” Spencer only brought a gift bag with the edition of his overnight bag, meanwhile you had a couple bags, along with two bottles of wine for Rossi and your own overnight bag. He grabbed your overnight bag and a bottle of wine and headed up to the door with you following behind, praying you didn’t slip on any ice.

You made it to the door unscathed, being greeted by Prentiss who was already a glass of wine deep.

“It’s party time!” She said upon opening the door. You and Spencer grinned and followed her inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Everyone was already there, starting on the spiked eggnog drinks without you guys.

“Hey, I told you guys to wait for us!” You whined as you set your presents underneath Rossi’s massive Christmas tree. The others looked away and took sips of their drinks, earning a small glare from you. You opted to start with a glass of white wine and escalate from there later. You took a long sip as you sat along the counter beside JJ. She held up her hands in mock defense.

“I told them they should wait but no one ever listens to me!” You giggled a little and patted JJ’s shoulder sympathetically.

“I hear you. They never listen to me either,” You said, shooting a look in Spencer’s direction in particular. As if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned around and looked at you. When he saw you were already looking at him, he raised his eyebrows in question. You shook your head and he shrugged, returning to his conversation with Morgan and Rossi. Penelope was doing peppermint vodka shots with Prentiss while Hotch watched, somewhat amused as Emily started choking on hers. You smiled as you watched your friends ease into the party so quickly after such a long case. It warmed your heart to see them relaxed.

“I don’t know, Rossi. What if it ruins our friendship?” Reid asked, his voice small. He only softened his voice like that when he was unsure of himself.

“Look, kid. I may be old, but I do have eyes. She loves you, Reid.” Rossi said.

“Trust me, Pretty Boy. Everyone here sees the way you look at each other.” Derek agreed, taking a sip of his beer.

Spencer chewed on his lip thoughtfully when he felt eyes on his back. He turned back to see you staring at him, where you began giggling with JJ. Spencer raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Did you need me?” and you shook your head. He shrugged and turned back to Rossi, who was smirking. He shared a look with Derek and walked over to Hotch, who was now forcing Emily to drink more water.

“Like I said, trust me.” Derek said quietly as he left Spencer in the center of the kitchen to his thoughts. They were quickly interrupted as Rossi announced it was time for presents. Spencer grinned, this was what he was the most excited for. He had you for secret santa and he knew he really nailed his gift to you this year. He knew you better than anyone, and thanks to his eidetic memory, he knew everything that you had mentioned in passing were small things that you wanted. Including the necklace that you’d pointed out in the jewelry shop down the street from your apartments 8 months and 29 days ago, on your way to Starbucks. You gazed at it longingly every single time you passed by, but never could justify purchasing it for yourself.

“Alright kiddos, gather round.” Rossi said. Everyone made their way to the couches and sat as you helped to hand out presents.

“Morgan, these are yours. No one open anything until everyone has a gift!” You stared at Emily in particular, who grinned sheepishly. Hotch placed a hand on her leg and smiled at her, knowingly.

“JJ, this bag is yours. Hmm, Garcia this one is yours, Emily, Hotch,” You handed them out one by one. “Ah, here’s yours Spence.” You hauled a couple bags over, and his eyes widened at the sheer amount of stuff adorning both bags.

“Here’s yours, Rossi, and I just found mine!” You sat on the floor and crossed your legs out in front of you.

“Alright, how are we doing this?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we all just open at the same time orrr…”

“No, someone can go first and each person who has the person opening goes next, makes sense?” Everyone nodded. “Rossi, you can go first since you oh so graciously hosted. And are letting us stay the night.” You added. Everyone laughed as David shook his head, quickly tearing into the bright wrapping paper. His jaw dropped slightly as he pulled out a box of cigars.

“I told you before, my dad was a cigar aficionado. I know what you like, Rossi.” Derek winked. Rossi rose and said a few words of excitement in Italian before kissing Derek on both cheeks and pulling him into a hug. He laughed and clapped Rossi on the back before returning to his seat, and digging into the gift bag in front of him.

“Alright, I see you secret santa!” Derek pulled out a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey, along with a few other baseball related things.

“I had to delve a bit more into the sports world than I’m used to, but i’m really glad you like it.” Emily smiled. He pulled her into a tight hug.

“Okay Em, you can go.” You wiggled your eyebrows as she fake glared, ripping her wrapping paper to shreds.

“Oh my God! I love it!” Prentiss held up a couple different books by her favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut. JJ grinned.

“Look deeper.” Prentiss dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a beautiful set of hand painted wine glasses.

“JJ, these are beautiful!” Prentiss gave her a hug and started taking them out of the box and passing them around to those that were drinking wine, or planned on it later. She disappeared into the kitchen to clean the glasses and fetch the wine.

“Alright JJ, it’s your turn!” You were especially eager for this one, knowing that Spencer would be coming up soon and you could finally see the look on his face. You’d had the gifts in your possession for 2 weeks and his turn could not come fast enough.

Finally, it was Spencer’s turn. You watched as he tore into the neatly wrapped gift box first. You knew he’d open that one first because it was the biggest box. He pulled the sweater out, seemingly confused at first, before it dawned on him.

“Oh my God, it’s a Halloween Christmas sweater! I love it!” He grinned and took off his blazer, revealing the tshirt beneath. He threw the sweater overtop and pulled the sleeves to his elbows, grinning with the joy of a little kid. He was so excited that he almost forgot about the other presents on the floor beside him. He finally made eye contact with you and you indicated he had other things to open. He sat back down, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as he opened the book and gift cards.

“I love everything, thank you so so much, (Y/N).” He said, the look on his face screaming genuine happiness and excitement.

“Actually, there’s one more thing.” He furrowed his eyebrows as you snuck around behind the tray, retrieving the tin of cookies you’d hidden back there, fully knowing the vulchers you called friends would find them if you put them anywhere else. Spencer’s jaw dropped.

“Are those your famous chocolate chip cookies?!” He asked, incredulous. He knew they were incredibly special to you, which is why it was so rare for you to make them. You grinned and nodded. He jumped up, threw the tin on the sofa, and pulled you into a hug. He picked you up a little, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

“Thank you endlessly, (Y/N).” He said quietly, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. A deep blush rose to your cheeks. As you both pulled away, you noticed Spencer was blushing like crazy too.

“I guess that leaves me!” You said, noticing everyone else had opened their presents. You grinned as you dug into yours, pulling out a Starbucks gift card, a new Starbucks tumbler to replace the one you broke a few weeks back, the anniversary copy of your favorite book, (Y/F/B), and finally, a small, blue velvet box was crammed at the very bottom of the back. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and opened it with a gasp. You snapped your head up to meet Spencer, who was grinning at you sheepishly, his cheeks tinted bright pink.

“I-I knew you’ve been l-looking at that necklace for months, so….” He trailed off, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t like it I can take it back,” You stared at him in awe as tears threatened.

“Spence,” You said breathlessly, touching the necklace with a careful finger. “I love it, thank you so much.” Everyone in the room shared a look, fully knowing what was coming. You and Spencer were so busy with each other, that you didn’t notice when Rossi silently ushered the others out of the room and into the hallway to watch.

“Would you mind putting it on for me?” You asked quietly, handing Spencer the small box with a shaky hand.

“S-sure.” Spencer silently cursed his shaking hands as he fiddled with the clasp for a minute, before it clicked into place.

“Thanks.” You glanced up at the tall, lanky Doctor, when something a few feet above his head caught your eye. You gestured up at it, catching his attention.

“Mistletoe.” You said quietly. You got up on your tiptoes and placed a warm, soft kiss on his cheek, earning a blush from Spencer. A weird look came across his face when he suddenly grabbed your face, and crashed his lips into yours. You immediately melted into both Spencer and the kiss, forgetting where you were for just a moment as it was just you and him, alone together.

You pulled apart for air breathlessly, as you looked into the face of what used to be your best friend. That barrier had absolutely been shattered, but when Spencer broke out into a small, shy smile, you knew that it was meant to be that way.

“I…. I’ve been in love with you for the last 4 and a half years. It didn’t take me long at all to realize that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but when I realized how smart, funny, and caring you were? I knew it was over for me. I didn’t say anything for the last few years because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” You whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and smiled a little more.

“Losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not ever.” You shook your head defiantly, and placed another kiss on his lips. This one was much quicker, but filled with all the love and words that hadn’t been spoken until just now, and any words you could ever hope to say. Your friends cheered from beside you as you buried your head in Spencer’s chest, embarrassed. There were rounds and rounds of congratulations, told you so’s, and even a few bets had apparently been placed. You glared as they exchanged money and sheepish grins. You shook your head as you followed your friends into Rossi’s kitchen to continue getting your drink on.

**

It had been a few hours since Spencer’s confession, and to celebrate, you had accidentally had a few drinks too many. You started playing a drinking game with Derek and Prentiss that you had ceremoniously named “Beerio Cart”, and played several rounds since you were the champion. You grinned proudly, Spencer placing a plastic crown you all had found the last time you were at Rossi’s on top of your head, much to Derek’s ego’s chagrin. Following that, you had a few shots with Hotch and Garcia, followed up by the peppermint schnapps Penelope had prepared. Needless to say, the entire team was pretty hammered. IN the last few hours of the evening, Spencer had opted to drink more water and sober himself up slightly in order to save himself the pain the following day.

Rossi was on the same page as Spencer, not to mention the older Italian man’s tolerance was that of a bull. He could probably drink an entire bottle of wine and still be under the legal limit. He had retired to bed around 12:30am, fully aware that he was going to have to cook breakfast for his hungover “children” the following morning. You, Spencer, Prentiss, and Derek were the last ones awake, and now Derek had decided to retire to bed.

“Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.” Derek slurred, tripping up the stairs a little bit. It was the last round of Beerio Cart with Prentiss and Hotch that had done Derek in. Hotch had gone to bed shortly after that, Emily promising him that she would be up shortly after. That was 2 hours ago, and Emily was still downstairs with you and Spencer. She looked around, seeing that everyone except you two had gone to bed, and you were quickly crashing. She shrugged and stumbled up the stairs, managing to make it to her room with Hotch relatively easily. At least it was the first one at the top of the stairs.

Spencer turned his attention to you, and smiled warmly. You were starting to fall asleep standing up. He’d seen you do this a few times before, and usually was able to coax you into either laying your head on his lap if you were on the jet or on his shoulder if you were going to be in the SUVs.

“(Y/N), are you ready to go to bed?” You opened your eyes slowly and blinked, processing his question slowly. You nodded and rubbed your eyes, smearing your makeup all over the place. Spencer smiled a little and guided you to your room, sitting you on the bed.

“Close your eyes, love.” You complied quietly as Spencer gently wiped your makeup off. He tucked you into your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead, turning to leave. He felt you grab his wrist and turned around, caught totally off guard. You were sitting up, wearing your best puppy dog eyes face.

“Stay with me?” You said in such a soft voice, that made Spencer’s heart melt. He glanced at the door, then back at you, where you were still pleading with your eyes. He gave in, took off his shoes, and climbed in beside you. He wrapped an arm around you and you laid on his chest, quickly falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat.

***

You began stirring when the smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs and into your room. You scrunched your face at the harshness of the light peaking through the windows, and felt the onset headache.

“Fuck.” You whispered, rubbing your temples.

“Good morning.” Spencer said quietly beside you, sitting up to lean on his elbow. He donned his glasses and his scruff was already growing slightly.

“Good morning, Spence.” You said, your voice still raspy. You looked at the bedside table in search of your phone and saw two ibuprofen tablets and some water. You gulped them down gratefully and immediately felt relief.

You and Spencer made your way downstairs, greeting by the sight of your hungover friends, and Rossi, who was flipping pancakes and bacon at the stove.

“Oh look who decided to join us! The reigning Beerio Cart champion.” He smirked. You saw the crown sitting on the kitchen table and you grabbed it, placing it on top of your head.

“I stand by that wholeheartedly.” You said, folding your arms over your chest. Rossi shrugged.

“If you say so, kid.” You took a seat beside Hotch, who was rubbing circles into Emily’s back on the other side of him. She looked about as bad as you felt, and you instantly hoped you didn’t look like that, especially not in front of Spencer. As if he could hear your thoughts, he smiled at you, and you smiled back. You glanced down at his lips and flicked your eyes back up to meet his, when he closed the gap and pecked you on the lips. You grinned and a blush rose to your cheeks, as you munched on the pancakes Rossi set before you.

“Please tell me you two aren’t always going to be that sickeningly adorable.” Garcia said, wearing her sunglasses inside. You laughed a little, feeling a pain shoot through your brain. You groaned slightly, busying yourself with your pancakes. Spencer made you a bloody mary, spouted out facts about the origin of the drink, the useful properties of it, and anything else he’d known about it. You listened as you sipped, starting to feel just a little bit better. Whether that was with the help of the bloody mary or Spencer, you already knew the answer.

It was Spencer.

[shleepys]

AYYYY I hope you all were safe over the holidays and continue to stay safe over these next few months! Right now my state is dealing with record high covid numbers and a bunch of snow, might be different for you guys but hey, even though we're kicking off the start of a new year we still have to be aware of what's been going on and continue to push through it. But yeah!

We can finally reveal for the @harringroveholidayexchange, so I hope you enjoy what I made for the amazing @catharrington! I don't know how everyone else is formatting theirs if they did fic and art but I'm going to put both here! 💕

- - - - -

Overlooked

prompt! - I’ve always loved the differences in the two boys while growing up, I imagine Steve having huge Christmas parties with champagne flutes and the works and Billy being invited and happy to spend time with Steve, he really is!, it’s just a lot he isn’t used to. All up to author interpretations: make as fluffy or angsty as you want ;)

summary! - Steve forgets they were supposed to hang out elsewhere while his parents threw their annual Christmas party and agrees to stay.

Luckily, Billy doesn’t mind!

The only problem is, they don’t get to hang out... and Billy starts to feel overlooked.

- - - - -

Billy couldn’t be more out of place.

Parties were his thing, don’t get that wrong. He could get drunk, smoke, fuck, do whatever and if Steve was with him, only then it was infinitely better. 

But this wasn’t a party. Not the party he knew. It felt more like a corporate gathering or a birthday for someone he didn’t know and he only ended up on the list because his boyfriend’s involved. Which wouldn’t be a problem if everyone around him wasn’t two to three times his age and he actually got to hang out with said boyfriend. 

But it’s fine. It’s been fine so far.

Crystal champagne flutes and ugly holiday sweaters just aren’t necessarily Billy’s forte. He can’t fathom how much Steve’s parents spent on this party alone and can only bet that it cost more than the monthly payment for the house on Cherry Road. Not that he has much resentment towards what Steve’s parents do with their money but it just seems… unnecessary. 

He takes a sip from his flute, rustling the jacket resting on his lap before leaning further into the sofa to try and wait this out despite already being here for what seems like hours. Billy gradually looks up again and stares into the other room where he can see Steve and his parents.

He can’t see their faces, but he can see Steve’s. Their backs are turned to him - Steve’s off to the side - they’re merely silhouettes so he can’t tell if his parents are just being gregarious or snobby. Then again, neither of them really talk about their parents so Billy has no clue.

Billy watches as a couple leaves, the discomfort continues to overrule Steve’s face as suddenly another appears and the cycle starts over again for what seems about the hundredth time. He huffs, kicking the shagged carpet beneath him before lowly cursing himself out. Should he have reminded him what they were going to do tonight? Or would Steve have rather stayed here? 

He can’t tell whether or not Steve’s just over some of the pretentious attitudes and comments he’s overheard in the past hour or that he’s trying to break the chain and get over to him so they can do something together. He could always get drunk and wait for Steve to get done, he knows where the brunette keeps a bottle of scotch that he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet in the office. 

He blinks, lips sucked in to form a seal as he thinks. “Should I go home?” Billy whispers, soft and hurt. There’s not really a point in staying and maybe he can see if Jonathan has anything new to smoke. Deep, contemplative breath.

Billy stands up and discards his glass on the side table next to him before throwing on his coat and grabbing his scarf. Everything from then to going outside flashed by like a blur, nothing of importance really stricken in his mind other than colored sweaters and the sheen of champagne glasses hitting his eye. His breath is almost heavy as he opens the door and a wave of ice rushes over him. It bites at his nose, almost makes him want to itch it but he ventures out regardless. Billy slowly closes it behind him.

Billy sighed softly, eyes falling to the ground. It’s been snowing all day. Coming and going with the wind and dusting every road, house, and tree with freckles of white. Granted, everything was coated before it got too dark and hopefully, the roads weren’t iced over for any of the poor drunks inside. Steam rolled from his mouth as he exhaled before taking a deep breath. Billy threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked out where his car should be, a somber smile passing his lips but twisting into a frown. Steve told him he could park where his family parks.

His feet felt like they were superglued to the deck, that, or like boulders had been tied to the ends of them. Billy bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with his coat pockets, sort of kicked the snow from under him.

He swallowed hastily, a lump bouncing in his throat as he looked out again. Couldn’t pinpoint the emotion to anything else but a pang of burning guilt. Maybe he should have just gone up to him, shouldn’t have made a big deal out of feeling left out, taken him away from his parents so they could go upstairs or leave.

Someone jerked open the sliding doors. Light poured from the inside, Billy twisted around to identify the backlit figure expecting a drunk only to find a breathless, seemingly worried Steve. Billy wanted to furrow his brows and walk off into the snow where he knew damn well Steve wouldn’t go into with house shoes on, but for some reason, he stayed put. Watches as Steve shuts the door behind him and rubs at his arm.

“What are you doing out here?”

Billy doesn’t respond.

Steve seems to catch on, and their eyes lock. 

There have been times when Billy goes outside during a party to catch his breath, maybe sneak around back to talk to Steve about one thing or another, maybe drunkenly make out and hope no one was watching or Tommy had their back. But they hadn’t been to a party for a long while, not since September. And, Billy doesn’t just bring his car keys with him to ‘catch his breath’.

Billy broke contact with a sharp ‘huh’. “Did you forget about me?"

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Steve shuddered, pulling his hands into his sleeves.

Billy looked back up with dagger-like eyes, “Because it seems an awfully lot like you did.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He could bite back, the very opportunity hanging in front of his nose. But he didn’t. Instead, a familiar quiver caught his lip. Lingering feelings creeping up and forcing his hand to itch at his pocket. Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the ground. 

Steve frowned, aware of the events to follow. He’s known the other long enough to recognize the outline of Marlboros in any pocket. Deep down wishes there was some other habit Billy bid in, but that’s a matter of discussion that needs to be saved for later.

Eventually, the pack came out. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Billy, his lighter flaring until the end emitted a pale red before shakily tucking it away. He shook his head again slow and somber like. 

“I’m sorry.” Billy started, hands moving along with his words. “And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. You’re just,” he sighed, “busy.”

Steve’s lips sealed tightly at the comment. He saw the discomfort present in the other’s sentences, could feel guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. Thing is Steve wasn’t the slightest bit spiteful, he was pissed at himself for not taking action to check up on the other. Not considering bringing another friend with them in case something like this happened. He’s upset because they were supposed to do something together tonight besides this but he forgot and agreed to be here. Steve watched him take a drag, self-spite running through his veins. 

The corners of Steve’s eyes pinched, his throat tightening as he spoke, “No, I’m sorry! This sucks, this whole thing has sucked. I stressed myself out over decorating for the party and was so excited to hang out! I didn’t mean to agree but I forgot! And mom and dad keep introducing me to people. I- I wanted to spend time with you! I didn’t want to be here!” Steve took a step forward before shaky inhale. “This is my fault, this shouldn’t have happened.”

The next few seconds were the two boys staring at one another, each waiting on the other to say something. Billy was at a loss. Steve had a million thoughts streaming through his mind, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t just turn away and leave. 

Eventually, Billy glanced at the door, peering through to check if the blinds were shut as a faint smile appeared. Billy’s lips pressed against Steve’s before he could protest, his hand meeting to cup the brunette’s jaw and brush over the apple of his cheek with his calloused thumb and cigarette in the other. Steve’s tears wetted his cheeks, he didn’t mind it all that much. The shock melted into comfort as Steve cherished the kiss, pouted when Billy slowly pulled away from him. The slight tinge of champagne lingering on the other’s lips, the heat of their bodies giving them a little warmth.

Billy craned his head - albeit Steve was taller - until their foreheads met. 

“Don’t apologize. I get it.” Billy whispered. Steve gave a small, dismissive ‘huff’.

“My boyfriend should come before a stupid party. I should have told them otherwise.” 

Billy shook his head. “The party’s nice. You beat yourself up too much over this kind of stuff, I forget things too. Remember the creek?” 

Steve giggled, lips twisting into a smile. “In July when you were supposed to meet me there and didn’t show up? And I stayed there all night?”

Billy frowned as he thought into it, the bitter call at one in the morning that turned into a week of not talking to one another. It ended nicely though - if ‘nice’ was drunk car sex in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t much of an apology there but hey, they’re still trying to work on things and figure out how exactly relationships work because they aren’t exactly a sixty-year-old couple with forty years of experience behind the boy’s backs.

“I still owe you for that. Sorry.” His eyes fell to the deck as he pulled his head away, bumping his cigarette against his finger and watching the ash fall.

After Steve noticed the shift he got quiet, frowned, and eyes followed Billy’s to the wooden boards below. “Don’t apologize,” Steve echoed with a light smile. Gently Steve grabbed Billy’s scarf and drew him in for a slower, deeper kiss. 

People forget things, that’s human nature. And sometimes they can be a bit dumb about it too. But this was going to be the boy’s first Christmas, granted it wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but it was important to them both. Spending time with a significant other on a holiday was amazing even if they can’t shout it out to everyone they know. 

These moments always have a sort of energy to them. When the boys share a wordless amalgamation of self-deprecating thoughts after ‘messing something up’ and those little habits come out to bite to express those thoughts oh so clearly.  It’s a ball of weird energy that shines in self-hate that the two have been working to eliminate and hey, they’ve gotten pretty far! But, it’s still there. Smiling in the corner of the boy’s minds. Ready to strike at any moment. It’s just a lot smaller now. 

Because again, don’t have the forty years and that’s perfectly valid even if the two don’t seem to realize it.

Billy leaned into the sweet kiss before Steve drew back. Billy chuckled and wrapped his arms around the other as he tucked his face into Steve’s neck. Steve shook again, this time cuddling up to the other and ravishing in the heat and short breaths coming out of them both.

“I wanna go inside,” Steve mumbled, rubbing at the other’s back.

Billy laughed and slowly pulled away to look at Steve. “Too cold?” 

“I’m in a sweater and sweatpants,” Steve pulled on his scarf again and toyed with the frayed ends. The grin Billy responded with brimmed with bliss, his hand roaming up and held the other’s with a firm hold,

“I’ll meet you inside.”

Steve had ventured back into the party while Billy snuffed his cigarette into the deck, eventually, the two found one another next to the food Steve’s parents had catered instead of cooking this year. Only thing that wasn’t in foil baking trays was the Christmas cookies that Billy had been dying to try ever since Steve brought them up at the beginning of December. Drinks clattered in group cheers from the surrounding areas, the smooth music now bearable. He never expected that a party this foreign to him would turn out for the better. Never thought he would feel… like a part of it? The crystal flutes, richies, and overall appeal still don’t rock with him, but with Steve, he has someone there for him. And that’s all Billy could ever ask for.

Thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was going to projectile vomit champagne anymore… the nausea sort of faded after Steve kissed him outside. Billy turned to Steve, noting the rosy shade still dancing on the apples of his cheeks from outside.

“Your sweater isn’t that ugly,” Billy emphasized, chewing on an ornament-shaped cookie.

Steve shook his head with an amused sigh, sweeping the crumbs from his shirt. “This isn’t that kind of party, if it was I would’ve had you help me make one.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t think Karen from Fiance got the memo.” Billy pointed into the crowd at the woman in question. Her sweater took the cake for one of the ugliest, tensile hangs from her torso, lights strung all over, buttons on the brink of falling off. “You think she beats her kids over the head with a bible?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy smirked at the little glare he’d received. “You should have pulled out your grandmother’s cat vests.” 

Steve gagged, eyes wide and ridden with disgust. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me throw up. I never want to see those again.” Billy snorts and Steve shoves him with a laugh, “It’s not funny!”

“But you’re laughing!” Billy remarks and lightly bumps him back returning the bubbling laughter.

A woman seems to overhear their laughs and spins around with the biggest and brightest grin Billy’s ever seen. It kind of startled him. Doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t care to know until he recognizes the cat vest and how familiar those brown, round doe eyes are. She runs up to them, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approaches with a drink in hand. Mrs. Harrington gasped, grabbing onto Steve’s sweater with eyes darting between both boys, “Is this Billy?”

Steve smirks and rolls his eyes again. “Hi, Mom. I’m back Mom.” She lightly wacks him in the arm. “Yes! This is Billy.”

Her eyes lit up, dazzled with happiness as she stuck her attention on the blonde as he snuck another cookie in his mouth. “Steve talks about you all the time!”

“What? No, I don’t!” Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to defend himself but deep down knew there was no hope, especially after Billy gave him that smug but appreciative little look as his mom went on her story-telling rampage. 

Billy laughs, almost in disbelief, “Really?”

“He talks about all of his friends, really. But, oh! When it comes to you he goes on and on and on, he really thinks you’re something.” Billy watched as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted themselves red and smirked. An interesting conversation for later. “I’m so upset that I haven’t been able to meet you until now! You two are always out or asleep by the time I get home.”

Billy’s brows quirked in an expression of sarcasm. “Well, thank you for not waking me up at two in the morning to introduce yourself.”

Mrs. Harrington chuckled, shaking her head before putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get another drink. Oh, and Billy!” She paused and made eye contact, “If you want to come over for Christmas, you’re more than welcome too! Just tell Steve so I know.”

Billy’s brows flew upwards, blush rising and Steve picking it up instantly. She waved goodbye before walking around them and going off on her journey into another room. The boys stared again, each waiting on the other to say something until the brunette spoke up.

"She likes you," Steve muttered, ears still red as ever.

"You talk about me to her? I think that's cute."

He huffed. Had to stop himself from leaning against the other to hide his face. "Mom likes knowing what friends are up to."

Billy loosely smiled, slowly bumping into Steve with his hip before getting a light bump back. “You look a lot like her.” Steve shook his head.

“Not as much as my dad,” Steve turned to see if he was there and frowned when he didn’t see the other but slowly faded into a smile. “I don’t know where he is, he would have loved to meet you.”

The boys got quiet again.

Billy cleared his throat, his head tilted down as if to duck away to hide his blush and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “About coming over for Christmas-” 

“I want you to.” He softly tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Eventually, Billy made eye contact, grinned with a chuckle following behind. Christmas with Steve? His caring boyfriend, twenty million cookies, a few possible presents, and… some loving parents? 

Billy couldn’t be happier.

[babbushka]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Charlie Barber x Reader ; 2k

The party had been achingly wonderful. You’d never seen his house so filled with warmth, with light – and you’d been over a dozens and dozens of, in the past few years that you’ve known him, have known Charlie.

The place was packed with all his theater friends, all the writing and directing and acting geniuses gracing the Broadway stage. And you, in the middle of it all, were enthralled, were so glad for the opportunity to schmooze and laugh and cheers with your peers. You’d talked scripts, screenplays, plays and movies, award shows and bullshit critics, and you’d done it all with the pleasant warmth of food in your belly and a drink in your hand.

He had really gone all out, you think once the party had begun to die down. The string lights were twinking a soft white, the fireplace cracking loudly, the tree all lit up red and gold. Henry had helped decorate it before flying to Los Angeles to spend the holiday with Nicole who had just moved there. There were tapered candles lit and softly melting, wax hot and dripping on the silver plates that were there to catch the drops so the tabletops weren’t ruined. He always was thinking one step ahead, your Charlie.

That thought, the your Charlie, sent a soft bloom of fondness through your chest. All night he’d been making eyes at you, dark and glittering with more emotions than you could probably parse. All night he’d been smiling at you from across the room, face half-hidden in his cup of eggnog. All night he’d been making as many excuses as possible to find his way next to you, to make you laugh, to make you pay attention to him and only him.

It was a secret, of course. The affair.

That’s where the ache came in, didn’t it? The urge to be close to him. The war of being close but not too close, to smile but not smile too much, to look but not stare. It wouldn’t do to make anyone suspicious, wouldn’t do to draw attention. It was a bittersweet kind of atmosphere, wanting to hold and be held, but not able to.  

Except now…now the party had wound down to just the two of you. You had insisted on staying to help clean up. You didn’t need to catch a cab or a train, you only lived just next door – so of course you would stay and help.

And there was a tension there, a silent tension, as you stacked up all the red solo cups, threw them away. The two of you trying to wait, trying to wait in case someone forgot something at his house before they left, in case a neighbor wanted to drop by, in case in case in case.

So there was the tension, two of you dancing around one another as you walked around and turned off the lights in all the rooms no one was in, because you know how much Charlie hates wasting electricity. As you brush past him to bring the leftovers to the kitchen, wrap them in silver foil and stack them in the fridge so he’d have something to eat later. As you put on your coat and head for the door, casting a look over your shoulder.

He looks at you, and you look back at him, and you chew your lip when you tell him, “I really can’t stay.”

He nearly drops what he’s holding and crosses the room in three long strides, slides his arms around yours, and you melt into the embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, looking up at him through your thick lashes. He knows, knows what you’re doing.

You’re grateful he’s going to play along.

“But baby, it’s cold outside.” He whispers, licks his lips.

You love it when he calls you baby, when he says it like that. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world to call you, the most natural thing.

And wasn’t it?

You try and suppress the ghost of a smile that’s threatening to spread across your mouth, but you fail. You fail as you turn in his embrace, and smooth your hands up the soft sweater he wears. It was terrible, red and green and white with little gold bells and ribbon bows stitched into the fabric. You had bought him that sweater, had told him that everyone should have something ugly and tacky to wear for a Christmas party.

“Yes, but I’ve got to go away.” You explain, not making one motion to step away from him.

“But…it’s cold outside.” He reiterates and you do grin then, grin bright and wide, as his arms wind around your waist and pull you ever closer.

“This evening has been – ” You start, pulling away for a moment to look for your keys.

“I was hoping you’d drop in – ” He says, and now he’s smiling too, he’s walking into the kitchen for a moment.

“—So very nice.” You continue, finding them. You had placed them in the little dish on the table by the door, and you can’t help but think that they look so good there, next to Charlie’s keys.

You wondered if it was the holiday atmosphere or something else, that made you emotional over that. Charlie sees in your face how you’re getting choked up, choked up over something as simple as two keys in a dish, and he comes to your side with two glasses of champagne from the kitchen.  

He hands you one and when your fingers touch, he gasps, gives you a big toothy smile that makes you want to kiss him.

“Here, let me hold your hand, they’re just like ice!” He hisses dramatically, takes your hand in his.

It’s then that you realize the curtains are open, and anyone on the street could see. You immediately pull him away, pull him down the main hallway where no one would be able to look in, no one would be able to know this is what the two of you get up to.

What will the two you get up to?

“The neighbors might think…” You explain with a chuckle, and he waves it off.

“Oh, but it’s so bad out there.” He says sarcastically, nodding to the softly falling snow that’s barely sticking to the manicured lawn outside.

You laugh too loud at that, a nervous giggle that shakes your body as he pulls you in close in the dark of the hallway. You feel dizzy, feel dizzy in the best way, lightheaded with love and giddiness.

“Say, what’s in this drink?” You tease taking a whiff of the champagne, but he frowns.

“That’s not funny.” He tucks a bit of hair behind your ear, warms his palm on your cheek.

You look up into his eyes and see the softness there, and suddenly it’s all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

“I wish I knew how…” You sigh, nuzzling into his embrace for a moment. Your back is resting against the wall of the hallway, and he’s standing between your legs, your stomachs practically pressing together with how close you are, and soon the nuzzling turns into kissing his palm, “To break this spell.”

“Give me your hat, your hair looks swell.” He whispers, sliding your coat off of your shoulders and taking off the wool beret you had worn, a festive thing that matched your dress.

“I ought to say ‘no, no, no, sir.’” You grin, blush and bat your eyelashes, being teasing, playful.

“Mind if I move in closer?” He asks as he braces his arms against the wall, caging you between them.

And you decide to play with him a little longer, so you duck out from under his arm and laugh with another, “I gotta get home!”

You try, but Charlie chases you, chases you and spills his champagne in the process, chases you and grabs you around your middle, hoists you up in a way that makes you laugh and laugh and laugh, like he were some great fireman and you were in need of rescue.

Maybe you think, as he sets you down on the couch and closes the curtains, maybe you were.

“You’d freeze out there.” He shakes his head, hiding your outerwear in the closet by the door.

“So lend me your coat.” You challenge and he scoffs.

“It’s up to your knees out there!” He makes up, points to the window.

There absolutely wasn’t even an inch of snow yet, not yet. But you knew that, and he knew that you knew that, and you settle into the couch anyway, settle in further, taking another sip of champagne. That dizzy warm bubbly feeling spreads through your whole body in the most pleasant way, and time feels like it’s standing still.

What time even was it?

“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow.” You roll your eyes and smirk, beckon him forward with a crook of your finger as you slip your heels off of your feet.

Charlie didn’t like shoes on the couch, and you don’t blame him. He watches your movements carefully, watches as you rub your ankles together, toes probably going so so cold from being exposed to the air. He puts both his hands over his heart and gives you the most convincing heartbroken look you’d ever seen, a true actor.

“Think of my holiday sorrow – ” He starts, making his way back to you, following your finger, entranced by you.

Who was under the spell now?

“At least there will be plenty implied.” You wink, already envisioning the talk of the theater community tomorrow. Surely there’d be gossip, surely there’d be theories. There were already theories, and ones that weren’t unfounded.

“ – If you caught pneumonia and died.” Charlie continued, the thought of that being so absurd that your laugh rings brightly in the still warm air of the living room.

You open yourself up for him, let him fall on top of you on the couch. He’s heavy, a pleasant weight that’s sturdy, warm. He was always so warm, everything about him. From his smile and those dimples, to the chocolate of his eyes, those eyes which are so deep, so soulful.

It breaks your heart sometimes, all of this. The divorce.

You wondered how he was coping, this being the first Christmas without Henry and all. You wondered if he was coping at all, or if the party was a distraction, a means to have people in the house. The house was so empty these days.

Well, except for you.

“I really can’t stay.” You whisper once again, echoing the same sentiment from earlier, and not meaning it any one ounce more.

“Do you really still have doubts?” Charlie whispers back, and there it is, the act has dropped, and the real concern – that you really don’t want him, that you really don’t want this – has returned.

You chew the inside of your lip and cast a glance to the window, making sure the curtains are pulled nice and tight, making sure no one could see, no one could compromise this affair, this love that you shared. You card your fingers through his hair and sigh once more. You’re so content, you could live here like this, live in his embrace.

Maybe one day, one day when all this bullshit is over, you will.

“Oh baby, it’s cold outside.” You grin, and he knows he’s won then, knows it when you wind your arms around his neck, when you let your eyes close for him.

He smiles against you, smiles as he kisses you.  The snow falls, the children sleep, the trains run. But in the living room, on his couch (and soon in his bed), it is safe and you are so in love that nothing matters – nothing matters because Charlie loves you back.

And really, is was cold outside.

                                                    -----------

Tagging my Charlie lovin’ pals!  @driverficarchive​​    @adamsnackdriver​​ @dreamboatdriver​​ @kyloxfem​​ @solotriplets​​ @tinyplanet-explorers​​ @candycanes19​​ @callmehopeless​​ @kylo-renne​​ xsister-serpent @girlyisthatweirdkid phoebewalker04 @stylelovechild​​ @formerly-anonhamster​  @magikevalynn​​ @ccorleones @whiskey-bumblebee​ @scheherazades-horcrux​

[birooksun]

I'm (not) dreaming of a White Christmas

For @deviant-sasshole for the Reed900 gift exchange

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Nines looked around the small store Tina had dragged him into, many other shoppers crowded around them, all shopping for presents as well. He didn’t quite understand why Tina insisted he join her for shopping. He didn’t understand the whole purpose of everyone gathering together for only one day and forcing cheer upon themselves. They weren’t even religious. 

Tina had tried to explain to him it was the culture, it was just what everyone did. She especially seemed to love the Secret Santa exchange the DPD was doing. He turned and looked down at Tina, she bright smile almost infectious. It certainly was for the other patrons, he fought the urge to smile as well. Joining her for shopping gave him an opportunity to shop for his own secret santa. 

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

Gavin Reed, the small slip of paper said. The man’s handwriting was a messy as himself, slanting to the left, ink leaving thicker dots at the end of each letter. He wondered for a moment who the other man had gotten as his gift recipient. Quickly the thought was pushed aside. It didn’t matter, he didn’t care. He certainly didn’t feel any jealousy wondering if Connor had Gavin as a Secret Santa. Even if the two still didn’t get along, he didn’t feel any jealousy towards the older model who got along much better with their coworkers at the DPD.

Tina gave a squeal and he wandered over to where she stood. In her hands was a hideous sweater. Even as an android with no human preconceptions, he knew in a nanosecond it was horrible. Part of him wondered who  she would foist it onto. A smaller part of him wondered if she would look at something so ugly and give that smile thinking about gifting it to him. He turned to her and just raised an eyebrow. She giggled and looked up at him.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

“I’m so going to give this to Eli. This is so ugly and it’s even got some Menorahs on it!” She gave that giggle squeal again. If he were human it might have hurt his ears. “Do you know how hard it is to find an ugly Hanukkah sweater? Christmas sweater, no problem. Hanukkah? Forget about it.” She giggled again and put it in the basket she carried. “Alright, let’s keep looking for other gift ideas.”

Nines didn’t understand, Elijah wasn’t part of the DPD. He couldn’t be her secret santa. There was no reason for her to get him that hideous sweater. Nines glanced down at his own empty basket as he quickly ran though his database. Elijah Kamski, half brother of Gavin Reed. At one time Tina and Gavin had been roommates in college before they joined the police academy. It made sense that she had met Elijah at some point in their lives. He followed behind her, looking around the racks and a shade of blue caught his eye. He left his spot as Tina's shadow and wandered over to it. He picked up the sweater and looked at it, scanning it as he wondered if he would gift him with that same smile given to the older model. Tina walked up to him, “That’s almost the same shade as Hank’s eyes. Even if he doesn’t love it, it would be great for him!” 

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

He turned from where he had been looking at the dog on the sweater. “It’s an exact match to his eyes.” He didn’t mention wanting someone else to smile at him, to not be intimidated, to not flinch away when he stared at them. Nines put the sweater in his own basket and walked away. Tina had gotten something for Elijah, so it wouldn’t have been odd for him to get a gift or two for acquaintances as well, right? 

The two of them continued to wander around the shop, their baskets slowly filling up with gifts for people they knew. Nines had almost cracked a smile at the gift Tina had picked for Gavin. A new coffee mug, but this one with part of a gun for a handle. He could preconstruct the response, Gavin and anyone around for the gift would give a laugh. He would then replace his own plain mug for this one. Nines wondered if people would smile and laugh at the gifts he picked for them. He shoved the thought aside. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t affect his ability to do his job. He didn’t want Gavin to smile at him, or put his arm around him as he did Tina. 

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

The two of them paids for their shopping from that store before moving to put the gifts in Tina’s car and going to a different store. It was much more feminine than the one before it. He found a hair clip that would look nice on Chloe, before glancing around and picking up another similar one for Tina’s own long hair. He thought the faux pearls mixed with pale pink roses on a silver vine would look nice against the deep black of her hair. He wondered if she would put it in her hair right away and thank him. 

They didn’t stay long in that store before moving to the next one, still holding their small bags. This one had darker lighting than the previous store. Nines thought it fit with the brick wallpaper they had running along the store. He followed Tina to where she was looking at different piercings in a spinning case. “Oh this would be perfect if Gav still had his belly piercing!” He quickly shoved the thought of what he would like to do with that away. Gavin was his coworker, that wasn’t appropriate. At ALL. “He had to get rid of the tongue piercing too.” Tina gave a laugh and walked further into the store, leaving Nines behind as he stared at the piercings, trying not to think of what Gavin could do with that tongue. 

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

He quickly pushed the thought aside and followed after Tina, a small part of him hating her for putting those thoughts in his head. For giving him information he didn’t need. Even if he wanted it. He found himself standing in front of different beanies, one of them was a faded looking blue and had pointy cat ears on it. He immediately thought of his predecessor and cracked a small smile at it before picking it up. Tina saw it in his hands. “Oh that would look so cute on Connor! I love it!” 

“I can see him wearing it. He’s soft like that.” Kind, caring, sociable. Nines wasn’t, he was built for intimidation, for capture rather than interrogation. Nines pushed the thoughts aside as he continued to wander through the shop. He found different party games, Tina had already picked up a few, her bright smile making him wonder who the recipients would be. He looked to the side and found it, a gift he could get Gavin. Completely work appropriate, and not showing his affection for the man at all while still showing the idea of friendship. 

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

Tina gave a small frown. “Just buy him two gifts Nines. One for the work party and another for ours. I’m sure we can find something you want to give him.” She had a sly smile and Nines glared at her. Smug bitch.

“I don’t know what you mean. At all.” He wasn’t in denial. He did not have affections for Gavin. Did not want to kiss the man or be kissed by him either. And he was not obvious about it. Tina’s smug smile didn’t fade from her face as she dragged him over to the back corner of the store. A riding crop caught his eye and he thought of how Chole would love it and Elijah would turn red from embarrassment from everyone knowing. He wondered if his own feelings for Gavin were as obvious as those two were. 

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

Tina held up a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs and he laughed. They were horrible, not useful at all and yet. It was perfect.

The DPD party went off without a hitch. If one could call having to stop Chris and Tina from spiking the drinks as not being a hitch that is. He did, it was easy. He sent them over to Connor to harass. Tina left a glittery swack on his cheek after catching him with the mistletoe. He wondered where she got that glittery lipstick. She hadn’t brought it when they arrived. A quick scan of the crowd showed exactly one other person with the same lipstick. An ST300 named Rachel. He brushed that revelation aside for another time. 

The party at Elijah’s house was different, both more subdued and more rambunctious at the same time. Connor wore his beanie right away, Hank poked at the ears and laughed. Elijah spent the whole night in that hideous sweater. Apparently he loved it. Chloe helped Tina put her hair clip in. It was Chloe, Elijah, and Tina blushing at the riding crop. Chloe kept tapping people on the shoulder or butt with it for the rest of the night. 

Nines walked over to Gavin and help out the fuzzy pink cuffs, hoping this would work and not leave him feeling embarrassed. Not that he would be, not at all. “Gavin Reed, you’re under arrest for stealing my heart.” He placed the pink cuffs on Gavin, not wanting to look at the mans face. Not wanting to see rejection. He could hear the giggles from Tina, Hank’s cut off laughter. Connor probably covered his mouth, and Chloe’s gasp. 

Gavin’s laughter though, was unexpected. “Oh my god you’re such a dork!” Nines shoved aside the pain of rejection. The hands on his shirt and the pull from Gavin were unexpected. The kiss was pleasant though. He returned it happily. 

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 8: Thantophobia

Word Count: 5158

Read on AO3

Nearly two weeks had passed since the encounter at the Spoon. Neither TJ nor Cyrus texted each other, their phones not buzzing with excitement like they had for most of the summer.

TJ hated being without Cyrus, if only for a few days, but this was getting excessive. It was as though this important part of him, this large part of him, was suddenly gone. And he knew that Cyrus wasn’t gone gone, but all of a sudden, he felt so much further away. Pulling up his phone, he hesitated, wanting to text Cyrus, but instead opening up Instagram to scroll through photos.

“Give me a sign,” he mumbled, scrolling past endless selfies of girls who applied just a touch too much makeup before an ad popped up. It was for the Christmas in July festival; the one that Cyrus had talked about a while ago.

“Gee, now you wanna give me a sign, universe?” TJ shook his head, opening up his text messages to text Cyrus.

[Me: so for that xmas in july festival thing, we still on for that?]

TJ sat staring at his phone for a few minutes waiting for that gray bubble with the three little dots to appear. Five minutes. Ten minutes. He gave up at about the twelve minute mark, setting his phone on the side.

And then it buzzed.

[Underdog <3: obvi!! we should go get clothes for that]

[Underdog <3: unless u own ugly christmas stuff]

TJ smiled, butterflies erupting from his stomach and fluttering up to his chest.

[Me: i only own the best of hoodies. where do we get stuff?]

[Underdog <3: the place across the street from cloud 10, hideous holidays]

[Me: see u there in like 15 minutes?]

[Underdog <3: ok!]

“I am not wearing this,” TJ shuddered, his fingers gliding over a sweater that was most certainly going to give him a rash, “I’ll look the the human embodiment of a bad office Christmas party,”

“C’mon it’s not that bad,” Cyrus tried to convince him, popping out of the dressing room, sporting a light up Hanukkah sweater, “but seriously, this is great, isn’t it?”

He twirled around in it, the lights nearly blinding TJ, but he smiled, shaking his head slightly. “You and only you could pull that off,” he chuckled, turning his attention back to the racks and picking out a slightly less atrocious sweater, “well?”

“Try it on,” Cyrus encouraged, pushing TJ towards the dressing room, “you never know until you try,”

“That’s for sure,” TJ mumbled from inside, putting the sweater over his blue tee. Granted it was a little itchy, but it wasn’t unbearable. He stepped out, grabbing a Santa hat from the shelf and putting it on his head. “Well?”

Cyrus turned around from where he was looking at menorah headbands. “Oh my gosh,” he sputtered, taking out his phone and snapping a picture, “blackmail,”

“You wouldn’t dare,” TJ narrowed his eyes, a grin splitting his face as he grabbed a light-up necklace and ran towards Cyrus, putting it around his neck and taking a picture. “Blackmail,” he mocked, raising his brows.

Cyrus let out a childish squeal, rushing towards where all the hats were and grabbed a bunch of them, throwing them at the other boy. TJ rushed forward and threw his hands around Cyrus, effectively pinning his arms down by his torso.

“Let me go,” Cyrus whined, giggling nonetheless, “I’ll do anything,”

“Well in that case,” TJ started, releasing one arm and pulling his phone out of his pocket and bringing it up, “smile,”

TJ snapped a selfie of the two of them, Cyrus with a light-up necklace around his neck, and TJ with one too many hats on his head. “We look great,” Cyrus mused, taking off the necklace and putting it back with the others.

“No way, you’re getting that,” TJ insisted, taking it back, “we’re getting these outfits for the festival,” he said, peeling off his sweater and his hats.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, struggling to get out of his sweater. “Only if you pay for them will I wear it to the festival,” he said, handing TJ all his clothes.

“Picky, picky,” TJ huffed, making his way over to the register with Cyrus behind him, “what did I do to deserve someone like you,” he mused, pulling out his wallet and fishing out some bills.

“I know, I’m pretty great,” Cyrus agreed, adding a pack of M&Ms to the bunch, “these are for you, as a thank you,”

“Even though I’m paying,” TJ chuckled, handing the money over to the lady behind the counter, “I appreciate the gesture, Underdog,” he said, pulling him in for a quick side hug.

“We’re having a couple discount, ten percent off your order,” the lady piped up as she started to ring up the items.

TJ felt his heart leap into his throat, his face turning a shade of red comparable to the Santa hat on the register. “Oh, uh, we’re not, uh. . .you know, we’re-”

“-not dating,” Cyrus finished for him, clearly flushed, but not unable to form sentences like TJ.

The lady, Ellen was what her name tag said, looked rather embarrassed. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized, bagging up the items and punching a few keys on the register, “I just thought that you guys were. . .nevermind. I, um, you guys have the discount, sorry about that,” she mumbled, printing the receipt and putting it in the bag. “Here’s your change,”

“Thanks,” TJ managed to get out, shoving the mess of coins and bills into his pocket and grabbing the bag, “have a good day,”

“You too,” she added, shaking her head at herself, “kids,” she muttered under her breath.

As soon as Cyrus and TJ left the store, TJ exhaled, feeling some of the excess color drain from his face. “These ones are yours,” he said, pulling out the necklace and sweater for Cyrus and handing them to him.

“Thanks,” he replied, pausing for a moment, “I really missed that, you know. Doing stupid stuff with you,”

TJ felt a familiar smile make its way onto his face; the kind was reserved for only Cyrus and Cyrus alone. “Me too,” he agreed, taking a seat on the bench by the store and patting the spot next to him for Cyrus to sit. Cyrus took a seat, kicking his legs up in front of him and gripping the seat of the bench.

“Do we wanna talk about it?” he asked, the question hanging in the air.

“About what the lady said inside? I mean I don’t think she meant any harm and I’m sure she w-”

“-no, not that,” Cyrus cut him off, “no, I mean what happened back at the Spoon,”

“Oh,” TJ mumbled, defeated. That something. “I mean, is there anything to talk about?” I only have a massive crush on you and it’s killing me inside.

Cyrus shrugged with one shoulder, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “it was just. . .weird. I think I just, like, totally zoned out,”

Oh. “. . .Yeah, yeah me too,” TJ lied, nodding his head as if to convince himself as well as Cyrus, “Think I was just tired from not getting enough sleep,” he tacked on, knowing full well that it was a complete lie.

“I’m glad we’re back to being normal best friends,” Cyrus sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment and letting the sun warm his body.

“Yup. Friends,” TJ repeated, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he spoke, “wouldn’t wanna lose you,”

Cyrus opened his eyes, turning his head towards the other boy. “You’d never lose me, Teej,” he promised, “not unless you, like, murdered someone,”

TJ breathed a laugh, putting his arms on the back of the bench. “I know, I just. . .you’re important to me, you know, and I wouldn’t wanna lose that,” because I am so in love with you.

“You’re important to me too, you know,” Cyrus admitted, “sap,” he added with a giggle, pulling out his phone. He made a quick note of a word to write down for his journal entry.

thantophobia: fear of losing someone you love

“I should probably get back home. My mom doesn’t know I’m out,” TJ groaned, rubbing his hands through his hair and messing it up slightly.

“I’ll walk with you. Think I’m going to stop by the barber shop near your house and get a trim,” Cyrus said, running a hand through his hair, “My hair looks like a mess,”

“Lies, but okay,” TJ retorted, walking towards his street. He saw a pair of figures in the distance and could barely make them out, but once he got a little closer, he saw Amber and Andi. They were. . .talking, which was something that hadn’t happened a lot in the past few weeks.

“Turn around,” TJ whispered, bumping into Cyrus with his sudden motion.

“Wh-” Cyrus started, before following TJ’s line of sight and seeing the two girls talking, albeit intensely, looking closer to an argument.

Without thinking, TJ grabbed Cyrus’ hand and dragged him in the other direction, rounding another corner. When they were out of sight and earshot from the girls, he released Cyrus’ hand, feeling his own bead with sweat as he wiped it on his shorts.

“There’s another way to get home. It’s a little longer but, I didn’t wanna intrude on-”

“-that,” they said in unison, both breaking into smiles.

“Yeah, me neither,” Cyrus agreed, swinging his arms by his side, “I don’t think I’d like to know what they’re saying”

“Can’t we just talk about it?” Andi suggested, her gaze down on a new bracelet she’d made.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Amber said cooly, drumming her fingers against the picnic table they were sitting on.

“Please, Ambs,” Andi pleaded, taking off the bracelet and toying with it in her hand.

“Look,” Amber started, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers, “I don’t wanna avoid you anymore, okay? We need to finish this, stupid, journalism assignment, so let’s just plan out some days to do things and get it over with. Just pretend nothing happened,”

Andi looked up from her bracelet, her eyes glossed over with a layer of tears. “. . .but what about us?”

“What about us, Andi?” Amber sighed, “That’s in the past, can’t you just move on already?” she snapped, a bit harsher than intended.

Andi put a hand on Amber’s. “You know I care about you, right? I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m really sorry about what happened,” she croaked, her voice thick with pain.

“Me too,” Amber said, offering her a sympathetic smile, “things just. . .weren’t meant to be, I guess,” she admitted, “which is okay, you know. . .sometimes things just don’t work out,” she finished, letting her blonde hair shield her face from Andi. She’d done her best to keep her composure and really act like this was no big deal, but she was breaking inside. Amber cared for Andi so much and it physically hurt not being around her.

“I need to do something before you go,” Andi said suddenly crossing her legs and facing the other girl. It was enough to snap Amber out of her thoughts and toss her hair behind her shoulders.

“Okay, sure, I guess, what do y-”

And before she could comprehend anything, Andi’s hands were on her face and her lips were on Andi’s. Amber was in such shock she didn’t know what do; was she even still alive? The kiss felt like it lasted forever and not long enough at the same time. And when Andi pulled away, clearly embarrassed by her actions and muttering apologies under her breath, she just sat there, stunned.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot,” Andi whispered to herself, walking away and swiping at the tears that fell.

Amber remained fixated on the girl, watching her turn into a dot in the distance. She feebly reached her hand up to her lips, still buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. It took her what felt like forever to come back to reality. She tugged on her hair, still ruminating on what had just happened. She cared about Andi so much, and that kiss. . .seemed to answer her questions and raise double the amount of questions simultaneously.

“I still really like her,” Amber whispered to herself, shutting her eyes and letting her eyes burn with tears, “I still like her, and I let her go,”

TJ felt the air conditioning hit him when he first opened the door, sighing audibly. As much as he loved summer, he couldn’t deny that it was so nice to walk into a cool house. Setting the bag down on the floor, he started to take his shoes off when his mom walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” she asked, grabbing a pitcher of milk from the fridge.

“Out shopping,” he said, holding up the bag, “it’s a bunch of things for the Christmas in July music festival,”

“That sounds fun,” she replied, adding the milk to her already brewed coffee, “I think I saw an ad about that on Facebook,”

“Yeah, Cyrus and I have been planning for a while, and I still need to get tickets, but then after that I-”

“-Cyrus?” his mom cut in, her voice shrill and piercing.

Shit, TJ. Why can’t you go two seconds without mentioning Cyrus? “I-uh,” he cleared his throat, face turning redder by the second, “y-yeah. We’re journalism partners, remember? I told you that we had to work together and write about it, take pictures, you know,” he explained, his voice growing consistently softer.

“You can’t go to the festival with him,” she said plainly, as though with a hint of disappointment in her voice. She took a sip of her coffee, meeting her son’s gaze for the first time since he walked in.

“Wh-mom,” he practically whined, “please don’t do this,” he begged. Please don’t take me away from Cyrus.

“I’ve already said why, TJ, and I’m not going to explain it again,” she said firmly, leaning against the counter, “I’m not going to have my son hang out with. . .people like him,”

TJ could almost hear the smoke coming out of his ears, his heart thumping so loudly in his ears that he thought his eardrum would burst. “People like him?” he repeated, his voice rising, “Mom, you don’t know him at all! Cyrus is the nicest, sweetest, kindest, smartest, best person I know,” he rambled, crossing his arms. And also I’m so in love with him and I love the way he smiles and when he laughs I feel like I’m going to faint from happiness and I just want to kiss him a thousand times.

His mom simply shook her head, her short, graying hair dusting her shoulders. “See? It already sounds like you’re in love with the boy,” she mused, nearly grimacing at the very thought.

TJ felt a lot of things in that moment; embarrassment, anger, shock, confusion, frustration. But he never expected himself to say anything about it. “Cyrus is the best thing in my life,” he stated, no wavering in his voice, no fear in his eyes.

She took a sip of her coffee again, setting it down with a high-pitched ‘clink’. “TJ. You can’t go with him, end of discussion,”

“But I already promised!” TJ insisted, frustration bubbling up inside of him with each word.

“And I already said you couldn’t go,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes hardening, “tell him you can’t go with him and that’s that, TJ. You’re done with him,”

TJ felt his hands balling up into fists, shaking at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to punch a hole in the nearby wall, but somehow, he managed to contain himself. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” he seethed, grabbing his phone and heading out the door, slamming it behind him.

[Me: can u come to the swings now? i need to talk to you]

TJ stomped his way down to the park, feeling a lump in his throat rise, making him feel as though he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were burning, tears wanting to trickle down his face, but he refused. He was going to do this calmly and smoothly.

[Underdog <3: okay...i’ll see u there]

“So,” Walker started, swinging his and Jonah’s intertwined hands, “there’s this pride parade happening next week. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Obviously,” Jonah chuckled, the idea painting a smile on his face, “I just. . .I don’t know what my parents would say about that,”

“Oh, we can do something else,” Walker suggested quickly, “you know I’d never put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable, right?”

Jonah nodded, furrowing his brows together. “I know, and I like really want to go,” he sighed, thinking it over for a moment, “I could. . .tell them I’m doing something else?”

Walker quirked a brow, stopping Jonah for a second to he could face him. “You really don’t have to, Jonah. Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m right there with you, all the way,”

Jonah smiled, his cheeks a dusty pink. How was he so lucky to have someone like Walker in his life? “I know. I want to do this. You and me, together,” he chirped, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Walker’s.

Walker felt a rush of warmth take over his body, tilting his head a little to give Jonah a quick peck on his nose. “Together,”

Cyrus walked up towards the swings, seeing TJ lazily move in one of them. “Hey, I got your text, is everything okay?”

No. “Yeah,” TJ lied, looking at the ground so Cyrus couldn’t see the tips of his ears burning, “I just needed to talk to you,” he started, motioning for Cyrus to take a seat on the open swing.

“About what?”

“. . .about the Christmas festival,” he sighed, his heart already racing, and he wasn’t even at the worst part.

“Oh, I still need to get tickets for us, shoot,” Cyrus mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, “I promise when I get home I’ll get them for us, I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,”

“Right,” TJ mumbled, kicking at the ground, “about that.” He exhaled sharply out of his nose, gripping onto the swing chains harder. He couldn’t even face Cyrus; he knew he’d start crying the moment his eyes met the other boy’s. Just spit it out, his mind yelled at him, causing his to squint his eyes shut.

TJ opened his mouth to say something, but then he felt Cyrus put his hand over one of his own. He felt his breath hitch, a familiar lump forming in the back of his throat. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Not now.

“I-uh. . .I can’t go to the festival with you anymore,” he said quickly, his voice growing meeker with each word. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the other boy’s reaction, but he immediately felt Cyrus retract his hand, as if he’d been burned.

“What do you mean you can’t? We’ve been planning this for weeks, TJ,” Cyrus exclaimed, hopping off his swing, and although TJ couldn’t see it, he was staring the taller boy down from his swing.

“I know,” he muttered weakly, scrubbing harshly at his eyes, continuously reminding himself not to cry, “and, shit, I really wanted to, but,”

“But what, TJ? Did something else come up?” Cyrus asked. TJ looked up to meet his gaze and instantly regretted it. He no longer saw the warm flame of happiness burning in the other boy’s eyes; they reminded him of when he was with him in the cafeteria and he looked terrified of the other students.

TJ bit down so harshly on his lower lip that he almost drew blood, but he didn’t care; that pain was nothing. “I-my mom. . .she said I couldn’t go,” he supplied lamely, hoping that was enough of an answer.

Cyrus frowned, his brows furrowing up. “Is it like a transportation issue? My mom could drive us both down there and she could even-”

“No, it’s not that,” he cut in, his gaze returning to the wood chips underneath his sneakers. He could sense his hands were trembling, but all he did was grip onto the chains harder. Deep breath, TJ, he reminded himself, exhaling a final breath.

“She doesn’t want me hanging out with you because you’re. . .” he trailed, waving his hand and gesturing without saying anything more. And God it hurt to badly to do this he felt like he was in physical pain.

A beat. Two beats. Cyrus took a step forward, studying the other boy’s face carefully. “Because I’m gay? You can say the word, you know,”

I know. “. . .Yeah, that,” TJ replied shakily. He technically had the ability to say the word, but he could barely say it to himself in the mirror. How was he expected to say it so nonchalantly in front of Cyrus?

“And. . .you’re just going to ditch me just like that?” he continued. Another step forward. Slowly, TJ could feel his carefully constructed walls starting to crumble. He silently prayed that he wouldn’t start crying, at least not here.

TJ shrugged in response, toying with the strings of his hoodie. “I mean, what else can I do? She’s an adult, and she’s in charge and-”

“Are you implying that she’s right about this whole situation? That it makes sense for you to not be able to hang out with me because I’m gay?” Cyrus demanded, causing TJ to gulp. He’d never seen Cyrus so adamant, and he’d never felt to vulnerable. How the tables have turned.

“If I’m being honest, Cyrus, I didn’t-”

“Oh, now you’re going to start being honest?” he scoffed, crossing his arms, “has everything until now been a lie?”

The question hung in the air, thick with tension. Neither boy stirred. TJ had completely stopped swaying on his swing; the only noise was the rustling of the wind through the trees. TJ had always loved silence, but something about this one seemed bad. Really bad.

“. . .Did you mean it,” Cyrus deadpanned, knowing his voice was on the edge of breaking, “when I came out to you, and you said that you’d accept me no matter what. Did you really mean it?”

A pause. With each moment of silence that passed, TJ could feel the lump in his throat grow more prominent. He felt tears start to bud at the corners of his eyes, but he scrubbed them away.

“Cyrus, please, I-“

“You what, TJ?” he snapped, narrowing his eyes, “you can’t just deal with your mom not approving of something you do? I’m sure that’s not new to her,”

TJ clenched his hands around the chains and released them, over and over. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cyrus brushed it off, his voice cracking as he kicked at the ground, “some people are homophobic,”

TJ jumped up from his swing, taking a step towards Cyrus. “I am not homophobic,” he hissed, curling his toes inside his sneakers, “dumb, insensitive, and a fucking idiot, yeah,”

“Don’t try and play the victim here,” Cyrus jabbed, “it’s not my fault you can’t stand up to your own mother,”

“You have no idea what it’s like living with her,” he started, glaring at the other boy, “she’s—“

“Homophobic,” Cyrus finished, “like you,”

TJ felt his blood boiling, his vision becoming a little blurry through tears. “I am not and frankly cannot be homophobic!”

“Oh? And how’s that?” Cyrus demanded, getting closer to TJ by the second.

“Because I’m fucking gay!”

And there it was. He’d finally said the word out loud; in front of another person, as well. It felt almost relieving, and probably would have felt better if he wasn’t fighting with Cyrus. He expected Cyrus to be shocked, maybe take a second to think it over.

What he did not expect Cyrus to do was laugh. Like, full on, doubling over.

“You really got me there,” he said through a chuckle, a few tears trickling down his face, “you think you can just pretend to be gay to try and make this whole thing okay?”

Pretend. Pretend. “I’m telling the truth, Cyrus, I—“

“How am I supposed to believe that, TJ?” he cut in, searching his eyes for some sort of answer, “you’ve basically been taking your mom’s side all day,” he accused.

And then TJ broke. His walls were reduced to piles of sand, his clever comebacks dying before they reached his tongue. Tears flowed freely down his face. If you asked him, it was utterly pathetic.

Cyrus stared at the ground for a moment, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’m cut out for journalism. I don’t think I can do this,”

TJ angrily swiped at his tears, trying to meet his gaze. “Don’t quit the class because of me,”

Cyrus scoffed, dabbing at his own tears. “Oh, please, I’m not quitting because of you. I’m quitting in spite of you. There’s a difference,” he grumbled.

“How am I supposed to do the assignment then?”

Cyrus’ jaw dropped slightly, letting out a breathy laugh. “For once, that’s not my problem,” he stated with as much confidence as he could possibly gather. Silence fell over them, save for their occasional sniffing.

“You know,” Cyrus started, a smile ghosting his lips, “I hated you before I even met you. Buffy told me all about you and I believed her blindly,” he paused, glancing up at TJ, whose gaze was on the ground.

“And when you started being nice to me, doing all these things with me,” he mumbled, pacing around so harshly he thought his footsteps would burn right through wood chips, “and I thought that maybe Buffy was wrong. That I was right and that you were actually a good person; someone who’s changed,” he choked back a sob, trying to smile at the situation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more wrong in my life,” he blubbered, pressing against his eyes firmly.

TJ looked at him with watery eyes. He wanted to say that Buffy was wrong, and that he had changed. That he cared about Cyrus more than anyone could imagine. That all the good things he’d done were because of Cyrus. That he was so utterly in love with him. But all the words were caught in his throat, held back by tears and fear.

After another beat, Cyrus sighed audibly, and started walking away. With each step, he could feel more and more tears slip down his face and drip onto his shirt or the grass. At one point he slowed his pace, begrudgingly turning around to see the swings and see if TJ was still there. But all he saw was two empty swings, swaying gently in the wind.

6/23

Today was the worst day of my life. TJ hates me because I’m gay, and cancelled plans to go to the Christmas in July festival. I should have just believed Buffy when she said that he was ‘Toxic TJ Kippen’, and that he was bad news. I really thought that this project would bring us together. Turns out I was wrong.

Cyrus wiped away tears quickly, before they had a chance to smudge his writing. This was probably going to be the last entry of the journal, considering he was seriously contemplating dropping the class. Yes, he loved journalism and it was something he definitely wanted to pursue in college. No, he didn’t want to spend the rest of the summer with TJ. Pushing his journal aside, his picked up his phone. Several new texts from TJ, one from Buffy, and a notification letting him know that his order for a new theatre book would arrive soon. His hands trembled, setting the phone aside to flip to the back of his notebook.

thantophobia: the fear of losing someone you love

Cyrus sighed, a few loose tears trickling down his face. No matter how mad TJ made him, how upset he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to tear out the little sheet of words. Trying to distract himself, he picked up his phone again.

[real vampire slayer not clickbait: sorry for teasing you about tj. he just seems like he rlly likes you, you know?]

Cyrus almost smiled: almost. Buffy rarely apologized, but she seemed to be getting better at that.

[Me: dont worry about that or us jsdhkjfsd]

And he meant it. He didn’t want Buffy to worry about what was happening; he didn’t want anyone knowing what happened.

7 new messages from ‘Teej’

Cyrus hesitated, his finger hovering; one click to just see the messages. And he really wanted to, but he also didn’t want to. It was this inner tug of war where nobody won, and Cyrus ended up losing either way. Shutting his eyes, he tapped on the screen, opening up his messages.

[Teej: cyrus im so so sorry i fucked up so badly]

[Teej: i do support you like so much]

[Teej: please talk to me]

[Teej: i can’t stand not talking to you]

[Teej: please answer my texts, i wanna make sure you’re ok]

[Teej: cyrus please]

[Teej: sorry]

Cyrus read the texts, over and over. Eventually the colors started to blend together, the white background and the blue bubbles becoming one blob as his eyes glossed over with tears. He turned his phone off, putting it under his pillow and burying his head in the pillow, his sobs muffled by the fabric.

6/23

I screwed up so badly today. I lost my best friend, all because I’m scared of my mom. I’m such a coward. I’ll never get to talk to him again. I’ve lost him. I’ll never get to hear him laugh, or see him smile, or tell him that I love him. Classic TJ. Anything good, I gotta ruin it.

TJ let out a frustrated sigh, blinking his eyes a few times. He’d done his share of crying, his eyes now irritated and puffy. He tried taking a shower, to clear his head, but that didn’t help at all. Everything seemed to be crumbling before his very eyes.

“TJ? Can I come in?”

Amber. TJ groaned, pulling a blanket over his face. “Go away,” he whimpered, and cleared his throat, “I don’t wanna see anyone,”

“You’ve been crying,” she observed, solely from his voice.

“. . .no,” he lied, crossing his arms, but not like she could see him.

“TJ.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he protested, “not now,”

Amber nodded, taking a step back. “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,” she said, walking back to her room and shutting the door.

Only when TJ knew that she was gone did he go into the bathroom, turn on the water, pull his knees into his chest, and sob until he cried himself to sleep.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush ||

[carmenlire]

Color Me Blue Ch. II

read chapter one

read on ao3

Magnus unlocks the front door of his bakery, reaching to turn on the lights on autopilot. It’s just past four in the morning and as Magnus takes in his space, he’s struck for the millionth time by how much he loves what he does.

Though that love can only become more fervent after some coffee.

Heading towards the back, Magnus shucks off his coat and places it on the hook by his desk, followed soon after by his scarf-- a little ugly and a lot colorful, courtesy of Madzie-- and gloves. Throwing his apron on and tying it at the waist, Magnus washes his hands before brewing a cup of coffee strong enough to kill a man-- at the first sip of caffeine, he breathes out a sigh and lingers over his mug while he reads over the day’s planned menu and checks his email for any special orders that might have come in.

It’s December 23rd and as he polishes off his coffee, Magnus rolls up his sleeves-- he's wearing yet another festive sweater-- and gets to work.

He opened Bane’s Bakery straight out of culinary school. He’d been twenty two and on the verge of accepting another apprenticeship with a world renowned pastry chef in Paris when he’d walked past this little gem in the heart of Manhattan and had fallen in love with the space brimming with personality and possibility.

It had been a few hard, long years full of sweating out budgets and building a clientele that had come to find Bane synonymous with perfection.

Magnus woke up each and every day knowing that he’d found his little slice of contentment.

Rolling out shortbread dough for the day’s buttered reindeer cookies, Magnus wryly thinks that contentment has become just the slightest bit frayed at the edges.

Oh, he still loves what he does. He still wakes up and looks forward to putting his own spin on macarons or cupcakes or blondies. He likes the challenge and creativity required to make a beautifully packaged dessert every time. More than once, he’s wondered that it was what he was made to do. Baking is his lifeblood and Magnus loves being such an integral part of people’s lives-- whether its in celebration or commiseration or just to add a spot of brightness to their days.

Still. Baking has become something of an escape for Magnus. He can admit-- to himself at least-- that he’s taken to pouring all of his energy into his chocolate mousse and sherry frosting. He has his family and he still enjoys the occasional morning at home, but something’s missing and has been for a couple of years now.

Magnus blames the holidays for the fact that his single status stings just a bit more than usual. Dusting his hands off, Magnus wipes his hands on a towel and heads to the front, flipping the sign to open and turning the lights and tree and other assorted decorations on.

He heads to the back and starts bringing the morning’s selections out, lining them up neatly in the display case. It’s a riot of color and texture and as he does every morning, Magnus goes to the public area and studies the case, making sure that everything is shown to advantage.

December is one of his favorite baking times and the case reflects that. There’s a snowman shaped cake resting in its cake stand on top of the glass and inside there are sugar cookies in a dozen different colors in the shape of Santas and ornaments and ribbons. There are cupcakes covered in red and green frosting and dusted with granulated sugar to resemble snow or blue and white menorahs and Magnus is pleased with the overall effect.

He opens at six am and within minutes, he’s greeting regulars. Occasionally, he’s reaching for baked goods before the customer even approaches the counter. He knows that Mrs. Maisel likes her pistachio and raspberry muffin every morning and that Mr. Grantham orders a dozen chocolate cupcakes every Saturday for his weekly brunch.

Still, others are a mystery and it’s that unpredictability that keeps Magnus in this business. He helps twins decide on their favorite cookie and gives suggestions when a young woman comes in, desperately needing personalized desserts for her family holiday party that afternoon.

The morning passes in a quick blur and Magnus is having a hurried lunch in the back-- he’d given his staff the day off-- and looks up from his half eaten sandwich as the door swings open.

“Catarina, what brings you here? I thought you’d be working.”

Cat walks in, immediately reaching for a tray of cooling brownies resting on the stainless steel table. Magnus slaps her hand away and she glares at him as she replies, “I’m on my way in and thought I’d stop by and pick up some goodies for my nurses. No one wants to be working today but hopefully your pastries can be a bit of a pick-me-up.”

“Let me finish my lunch and then I can help you,” Magnus says, taking an extra large bite.

Cat looks at him, faintly disgusted. “First of all, half a sandwich does not a lunch make and secondly, I am perfectly capable of boxing up my own cookies.”

“I’m the proprietor,” Magnus says primly, taking a drink of his tea. “I’m the one who helps the customer, not the other way around.”

Catarina rolls her eyes and grumbles but doesn’t say anything as she waits for Magnus to wash his hands. They head out to the front area and Magnus picks up a deep red box, opening it and laying down holiday-printed wax paper.

Cat narrows her eyes at the display cases as she thinks. She settles on half a dozen frosting covered brownies and a dozen Christmas cookies, buying him out of reindeer shortbread.

She goes on to order a selection of vegan and nut free desserts along with his more traditional pastries. As he rings her up-- adding a white chocolate mocha-- Magnus sends her a dry look.

“You’ve bought me out of damn near everything, dear.” Glancing at the clock, he continues, “I’m still open for another two hours.”

Grinning, Cat just says, “You’re welcome. You’re still coming over tomorrow evening, right?”

Magnus just sends her a droll look as he closes the two boxes and starts wrapping them with silver ribbon. “Of course I’ll be there. Everyone’s been coming over to your house on Christmas Eve for ten years now. Why the hell would I miss it?’

“Oh, I don’t know,” Catarina says with an innocent look. “Maybe you’ve met someone.”

Magnus doesn’t get a chance to do anything more than scoff before she’s continuing with, “No, you’re right. What was I thinking? You haven’t brought anyone with you to the party in four years.”

“Three,” Magnus mutters and doesn’t even flinch when Cat flicks his shoulder.

“When’s the last time you went on a date?”

Cutting off the excessive ribbon, Magnus looks up to see his friend’s face. With a sigh, he recognizes the look in her eye.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she says with an arch look.

“Yes, I do, dear. You have someone that you want to set me up with. Well, the answer is no,” Magnus says firmly.

“And why not,” Catarina demands. “You just turned thirty five. Don’t you want to share your life with someone?”

“No need to have me halfway in the grave yet, Catarina. Good God,” he muses as he heads to the back to finish frosting the now-cooled brownies.

Cat follows behind and sits down across from him, watching in a sort of fond interest as Magnus starts icing the brownies with a deft hand in a swirling pattern. Thankfully, they’re in the midst of an afternoon lull and there are no customers to overhear Catarina’s wheedling.

“I’m only thirty five,” he repeats. “There’s no need to find myself a companion to settle down with in my old age yet.”

Rolling her eyes, Cat snags a brownie that falls apart, ignoring Magnus’s protest. “You know that wasn’t what I was saying. I just think that you’ve devoted so much time to this bakery that you’ve closed yourself off to anything that might challenge that. You’ve got to know that isn’t healthy or wise.”

“Catarina, my friend, I work twelve hour days and get up before dawn most of the time. There aren’t many people who would tolerate that. Can’t say I blame them either,” Magnus says absently as he forms a row of rosettes on the edge of a brownie.

“What about a doctor? They’re used to long hours.”

Humming in thought, Magnus shakes his head. “Doctors are unpredictable, dear. At least my schedule is predictable. I don’t need to worry that my significant other is going to be called to work in the middle of the night. Or that they’ll work themselves into the ground for a forty hour shift,” Magnus says, thoughts snagging on the man he’d met yesterday.

Magnus had been in the back whipping up a batch of meringue when he’d heard the bell on the front door ring, signalling a new customer. He’d taken a critical moment to continue making the mixture, not wanting it to eventually fall apart in the oven if he stopped without adding all of the egg whites, one at a time.

Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he’d pushed the swinging door open to reveal the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. He was obviously operating on no sleep or coming off a three day binge with the way his no doubt heavy five o’clock shadow had grown into a beard and the way shadows bruised his eyes.

Still, he was breathtakingly beautiful and Magnus had taken a minute to watch him, full attention caught on his bakery display with all the excitement of a child.

He’d tried to ignore the relief that had come over him when he’d realized the man was a doctor freshly off shift. They’d talked a little and Magnus had found himself secretly but overwhelmingly charmed as the man had ordered a hot chocolate sweet enough for an army.

What had started out as a routine transaction had turned into more. Magnus didn’t know why but he’d seen the hint of interest and couldn’t help but return it fully. He usually didn’t flirt-- much-- with his customers but there was just something about the earnest yet exhausted doctor that had him opening up, his smiling tipping from merely professional friendliness to welcoming.

He’d been unforgivably pleased when Alec had told him that he’d be back with a subtle smile.

Resolutely, Magnus has not been looking up at every chime of the door’s bell today. With a sigh, he entertains the idea that Alec had been merely humoring him.

More’s the pity, he thinks and looks up as Catarina clears her throat pointedly.

“Yes?”

“What’s got you so preoccupied?”

Waving that away, Magnus merely offers a smile. “What always has be preoccupied? I’m thinking about next week’s menu.”

“Don’t you see, that’s what I’m talking about,” Cat exclaims. “Wouldn’t you prefer to think about someone instead of your blasted chocolate and spun sugar?”

“No,” Magnus says distractedly. “I never get tired of thinking about dessert. You of all people should know that.”

Rolling her eyes, Catarina stands from her chair, reaching for the two boxes of pastries she’d chosen.

“I just think that you and this doctor would get along. Why don’t you just give him a chance?”

Plating the finished brownies up to take them to the front, Magnus just shakes his head. “I’ve given you three chances, Cat, and all three people you set me up with were utter disasters.”

“Name one,” she demands.

Magnus just gives her a look as he uses his back to open the door. “Antonio.”

“What was wrong with him? You went on three dates.”

“Yeah,” Magnus says dryly. “Unfortunately, it took me that long to look past his admittedly gorgeous face. When I did, though, I couldn’t quite ignore how much he talked about his pet parakeet.”

“Parakeets are cute,” Catarina offers defensively.

“Not when you get to listen to their mating rituals for an hour and a half straight,” Magnus returns grimly.

“Okay,” Cat acknowledges. “But that was only one--”

“Bridget.”

“Oh,” she says morosely. “Bridget.”

“She ordered the most expensive thing on the menu-- which, okay-- and then ducked out before it even arrived.” He winces. “I’m still annoyed that I didn’t see her grab my wallet.”

Cat nods, wincing in sympathy. “You had to call me from the hostess station to pay for dinner and take you home.”

“She didn’t even leave me enough money for cab fare.”

“That really should have been a warning sign that she was embezzling from the hospital,” Catarina muses.

“So, you see dear, I am not going out with anyone else you suggest. I’d go so far as to say that I’d run in the other direction from any of your prospective dates.”

“Still,” Cat insists. “The person I have in mind is different. He’s the head of the ER, for starters, and his background is in pediatrics.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement for a boyfriend,” Magnus interjects with a raised brow. “If he’s the head of any department and not seventy years old, that means he’s a workaholic. Plus, the emergency room? That just says he’s used to being on call for all manner of emergencies.”

“It says he’s dependable and likes kids.”

Magnus harrumphs and Cat opens her mouth just for Magnus to speak first.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do-- I do-- but I don’t need any help with my love life. So, I’m in a little bit of a rut. It happens to the best of us. For your information, I went on a date just last month.”

“And?”

“And while she was perfectly friendly, there was nothing there. I’m not incapable of dating, dear, I just don’t want to. I’m focused on my business-- I’ve been thinking of opening a second location-- and I’m perfectly content to wait until love comes my way.”

“Sometimes you have to grab fate my the balls and bend it to your will,” Cat says darkly but her expression softens as she looks at Magnus.

She lays a hand on his from over the counter. “I’m sorry if I’m beating you over the head with a potential blind date. I just see how hard you work and how much love you have and I don’t want it to go to waste. I want you to find someone, especially since it’s supposed to be the happiest time of the year.”

Magnus smiles softly at Cat, one of his oldest friends, and pulls her in for a hug. “I promise I’m not whiling my days away waiting for my soulmate. I have my family and friends and my bakery. I think I have it pretty good, don’t you?”

“Not as good as if you had someone to share it with,” Cat mumbles into his shoulder.

Laughing quietly, Magnus pulls back to give Catarina a fond is slightly exasperated look. “I’ll make you a deal okay? If I don’t find someone by New Year’s, I’ll let you set me up. Okay?”

Narrowing her eyes, Catarina studies him. “You’re just saying that so I get off your back.”

With a grin, Magnus just counters, “Are you really going to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“I suppose not,” Cat sighs. “I really think you’d like him, Magnus. He might work more than he should, but he has a heart of gold. He’s pretty easy on the eyes, too,” she teases, pulling away and taking a step back, grabbing her pastries.

Barking out a laugh, Magnus sends her an arch look. “You know me too well, my dear.”

Catarina just grins smugly, before turning on her heel and making her way to the front door.

The bell dings and soon enough, it’s silent in the bakery. Magnus sighs a little as he stands in front of the counter, taking in Bane’s Bakery in all its holiday glory.

Christmas is his favorite time of year, though he silently acknowledges that there’s only so much that his customers can give him. Sure he likes see the kids’ eyes light up when they see the display case and he loves creating special orders in the back and working in the morning quiet, just him and his dough, but as Magnus watches the Christmas tree in the corner complete slow revolutions and sees the way the lights seem to glow just a little brighter in the afternoon gloom, he wonders if Catarina isn’t on to something after all.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to go home to, someone who could taste test his latest recipes and tell him they were good even when they're obviously garbage.

It might be nice to have a reason to slow down, someone else to focus some of his energy on.

Magnus’s mind flashes to the man from yesterday and he distantly thinks that he would have said yes in a heartbeat if Cat was offering Alec up.

Magnus certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Magnus looks up as the door opens, bringing a laughing family and a gust of cold air dusted with snowflakes.

As he focuses on his latest customers, Magnus tamps down his lingering thoughts of love and romance.

He has better things to do and better ways to spend his time than pining for what he doesn't have.

[regret-dot-jpg]

Run Run Rudolph

Chapter 1: (i’ll add on the other chapters in reblogs)

If there was one thing Blackwatch knew how to do, it was how to celebrate the holidays.

They celebrated just about every major holiday— Shogatsu, Diwali, Hanukkah, Christmas, you name it. Genji suspected it was largely because the agents just wanted a reason to party.

When he first arrived at Blackwatch, he had found it annoying. The constant cheer was...a bit much. But even he hadn’t been able to resist the buzz of excitement that came with the holiday season. Eventually, after an unbelievable amount of bargaining, he ended up being dragged along to Overwatch’s annual Christmas party by none other than a certain cowboy.

Overwatch and Blackwatch threw a joint Christmas party each year, one that was known for being a very big event. With a lot of people there, which was why Genji had been apprehensive to attend. But against all expectations, he had actually enjoyed himself. A large part of it was thanks to Jesse, who at that point he had taken a liking to (not like he would’ve admitted it though). Looking back, Genji guessed that the Christmas party was what had started his definite fondness for Overwatch’s holiday season.

Whatever the case was, he was willing to admit that he was also looking forward to this year’s Christmas party. But that had nothing on Jesse’s excitement, which was practically tangible as the cowboy eyed the decorations lining the walls of the lounge.

“Just a week til the party, Gen.” Jesse grinned, drumming his fingers on the cup of hot chocolate in his grip. He lifted the cup to his lips, only to wince and immediately lower it.

“And you are just one more sip away from completely burning your tongue.” Genji noted with dry amusement.

“Pretty sure I’m already there.” Jesse made a face, gingerly set the cup down on the round table between them. For good measure, he pushed the cup a few inches away from him.

Genji snorted in amusement. He paused to eye the agents setting up a mistletoe right above the doorway.

“That’s either gonna go really wrong, or really right.” The cowboy mused, following his gaze. The agents were now giggling uncontrollably, probably thinking about the chaos that would ensue, “Probably a bit of both.”

Genji couldn’t help but agree. At the very least, it was bound to be a little entertaining.

“Is Blackwatch doing anything special this year?” He asked, leaning back in his seat. His leg was bent and drawn up onto it, letting him rest his arm on his knee. Jesse liked to say he made sitting look “edgy”.

“For the party? I think we’re getting a bouncy house.”

“A bouncy house.” Genji repeated, blinking. He raised an eyebrow, “Those are for children.”

“Then it’s a bouncy house for not-children. Don’t know if we actually are getting one, though. I’ll ask Reyes. But speaking of the party…” Jesse leaned forward, grinning. There was a very noticeable mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “What say we have a lil wager?”

“I’m not wearing a mistletoe headband, Jesse.”

Jesse blinked, was silent for about five seconds, then promptly burst into laughter.

“That’s not what I was gonna suggest, but I shoulda.” He snickered, “Missed an opportunity right there. You’d probably punch the lights out of anybody with a two foot radius.”

Jesse paused there, then mock-dramatically clasped his hands together, fluttering thick brown lashes, “And who knows? We could’ve even smooched a little.”

Genji purposely ignored how something in his chest twitched at the joke.

“If you so much as think about getting me a mistletoe headband, the next time I’m on laundry duty, I’m burning your laundry.”

As per Blackwatch tradition, all the agents with for, rooms in the same hallway took turns doing everybody’s laundry. While it wasn’t the worst thing to do, nobody (including Genji) enjoyed laundry duty. But he and Jesse had room right next to each other, so the threat was very much possible.

“Relax, I ain’t doing that. Yet. But, funny you should mention laundry duty….”

Genji’s tilted his head in curiosity, “What about it?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could have a bet for the Christmas party.” Jesse smiled slyly, “Loser takes the other’s laundry shift for a month.”

Genji raised an eyebrow. Oh, he was really interested now.

“Is that so?” He said, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “What’s the bet?”

Jesse paused to think, drumming on the table as he thought. After a few moments, his face lit up with an idea.

“How bout this—I wear something completely fucking ridiculous or the entire party. If it’s crazy enough, I win. If not, you win.”

Genji considered the bet. Fair enough, he supposed. But he couldn’t pass up the clear opportunity laid out before him.

“Hmm. That might be a little unfair.” Genji declared nonchalantly, a faint smirk spreading across his face, “It might be hard to find something even more ridiculous than what you’re already wearing.”

Jesse’s mouth fell open in a mix of amusement and indignation.

“Really. Is that what you think?”

“Yes. Why?” Genji teased, looking straight at the cowboy in what was clearly a challenge, “Already worried you’re going to lose?

Jesse laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, Genji, sweetheart.” He smiled sweetly, “You’re definitely losing this bet.”

                                                  _____________

The problem with being two of Blackwatch’s— scratch that, Overwatch’s — most elite agents was that they were well known. That, combined with Jesse’s general popularity because of his charm, Genji’s apparently “mysteriously dangerous” persona, and their reputation as the “dynamic duo” (Jesse’s words, not his) word of their bet spread relatively quickly.

It wasn’t like it was plastered everywhere he went, but Genji had definitely seen multiple agents trying to figure out the outcome of the bet. Every now and then, he would catch a couple agents looking over at him and Jesse, excitedly whispering. Hell, even Reyes brought it up during a team briefing (“Just don’t walk into the party naked , okay?”). And then Angela mentioned it during a routine checkup the next day.

Jesse, of course, ate it all up.

Knowing him, it was no secret that he was going to wear something utterly ridiculous. The question was what. It was a wild card. He refused to say what he was planning, so all Genji could do was guess. By the day of the party, Jesse had definitely found something, if the excited, conspirative grin he had on his face throughout all of lunch meant anything.

Lunch that day was light, largely because of how busy the kitchen staff was with preparing the food for the Christmas party in the evening. The bustling, buzzing energy of the kitchen staff was matched intensely by all the other agents. The general atmosphere could only be described as excited, something which Jesse embodied pretty well.

“Hate to break it to ya Genji, but you’re going down.” The cowboy declared matter of factly, slapping a hand down on the table for emphasis.

“Hmm.” Genji cocked his head, “In what? Today’s training session or the bet?”

“Both, probably. You’ll see.” Jesse winked,  “You’re in for a big surprise, hon.” 

“And what would that surprise be?”

“If I told ya it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” Jesse sarcastically shook his finger at him, pretending as if he was scolding a child. Genji just shook his head in fond exasperation.

Turns out, the both won the training session, being that they ended up on the same team. It was them against a team of four, which sounded unfair until you realized how easily they wiped the floor with their opponents. Genji would have felt a little bad about it, if it wasn't so oddly entertaining. But the moment the session was over, Jesse glanced at the clock and began packing up his gear.

“You’re in a hurry.” Genji noted, watching Jesse quickly undo the straps of of his standard issued training chest armor. He could see the four agents they fought walking past out of the corner of his eye, regarding the two with almost reverent expressions.

Jesse glanced at the clock once more, then nodded.

“Yup. It’s five. Just two hours until the party. I have to shower and get ready.”

Genji leaned against the wall. He didn’t have to wear any armor, being his most of his body was armor, so he just waited for the cowboy to finish taking off his.

“You need two hours to get ready?” He asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Hey, I ain’t just wearing some generic ugly sweater. Besides, I don’t think I’ll need all that time, but just in case, ya know?” Jesse gesture vaguely, then dumped his armor into a bin. After double checking that Peacekeeper was in its holster, Jesse turned to the cyborg with an impish grin.

“I gotta go. And I’ll see you at the party.” Jesse snapped both his hand into a finger gun. With that, he turned and strided off, a noticeable pep in his step and cheerful whistling giving away his excitement.

Genji watched him go, undeniably curious about what was in store. But, he figured, he could wait. He would find out soon enough, anyway.

                                               _____________

“Genji!”

The cyborg turned in the direction of the voice to see Angela walking towards him in a green sweater, a cup of eggnog in her hand and a bright smile on her face. Thankfully, the Christmas music blasting over the sound system wasn’t too loud, so she didn’t have to yell again to be heard.

The party was starting to reach full swing around them, as Christmas music blared over the loudspeakers and agents mingled and danced. Genji could hear the distant voices of a lively karaoke duet by the piano. The walls were lined with paper snowflakes, shining Christmas lights, and other decorations. Every now and then, little fake snow machines would shoot out artificial snowflakes, dousing nearby agents, which either made them laugh in delight or groan in annoyance.

It was around 7:30 or so, and Genji could say that, yes, he was enjoying himself. While he was no longer much of a big party person, he was much better with such events than he was when he first joined Blackwatch. As long as he could do what he wanted at his own pace, parties weren’t bad.

“Hello, Angela.” Genji tipped his head in greeting.

“Have you tried the eggnog yet?” Angela paused to take a sip of said drink, “It’s very good.”

“I will later, once Captain Amari has finished beating Reinhardt.” His voice lifted upwards with amusement towards the end of his statement. Ana and Reinhardt were currently in a competition to make the best gingerbread house in the quickest amount of time. To put it lightly, Ana was winning.

“That must be soon, by the looks of it.” She smiled, watching the competition for a bit, before resuming the conversation, “Is Jesse here yet?”

“If he was, I have a feeling we would know.” Genji said dryly. Angela laughed, nodding.

“That’s true.” She said, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Jesse still wasn’t here yet, and Genji couldn’t help but wonder what was taking him so much time. Had his costume ripped? Or perhaps he was chickening out, Genji mused. No, that was unlikely. Jesse was too much of a reckless idiot to chicken out over something like this.

“It must be something big, if he is taking so long.” Angela mused, “Maybe he’s wearing a giant inflatable snowman costume.”

Genji snorted in amusement, “Knowing him, that’s actually possible.”

At that very moment, the set of double doors slammed open. Being that there was a party going on, that was a pretty common occurrence with people coming and going, so Genji wouldn’t have paid it any special attention.

But what did get his attention, and the attention of everybody nearby, was the giant red and green present box being wheeled in. The present box was huge, to the point that if it was any bigger it might not have fit in the doorway.

The agent wheeling the giant present in was a man he didn’t recognize. The man looked around the room, as if he was looking for somebody, then set his gaze on Genji.

“Present for Genji Shimada.” The agent announced, wheeling the present towards him. Genji blinked, confusion settling in as he belatedly registered that, yes, the giant present was for him. Angela gave him a curious look, but he was just as lost as she was. The man came to a stop a few feet from Genji, sliding the metal wheeling contraption away from the present and setting it down.

With that, he backed away, allowing a curious crowd to form around Genji and the giant present. This close, he could guess that box was probably big enough to hold at least two people. This all happened within the span of a few minutes, and it was so out of the blue Genji wasn’t sure if it was real.

“....What?” Genji muttered in confusion, taking a half-step forward. And that was all he was able to do before the present suddenly fell open, the cardboards walls of the box hitting the ground and revealing—

“ Suuurpriiiiiiiise!”

The first thing he noticed was the red mini skirt.

A second later, his brain caught up with was happening and then he actually registered what he was looking at.  Jesse was standing inside the now open box, posing flamboyantly with his hips swung to one side and one arm up in the air with flourish.  He was missing his cowboy hat, instead wearing a  Santa hat cocked slightly to the side, more of a decoration than actual a hat. But as Genji’s eyes dipped lower, he realized that there was a much, much bigger problem on hand.

Jesse hadn't just ditched the cowboy hat; he had ditched all of his normal getup. Instead, he had on what appeared to be a Santa costume of some sort. But....barely. There was no way that qualified as clothing.  He had on a red, off the shoulder crop top and sleek white gloves covering half of his forearms. The sleeves of the top went down to his elbows, ending with a strip of fluffy-looking white cloth. But the part of the top covering his torso, however, was nowhere near as modest.

The neckline of the top, being that it was off the shoulder, dipped distractingly low. To make matters worse, the first of the three black buttons on the front was unbuttoned, making the center of the top dip into a sharp, revealing V. That, coupled with how distractingly tight the top was, practically put a spotlight on Jesse’s pecs. The red fabric clung to his chest, leaving little to the imagination.

What was almost equally distracting was how the red crop top cut off directly underneath his chest. All the golden-tan muscle of his torso was on full display, from his abs down to his hips. God, his hips. Genji’s eyes couldn’t help but follow down the bare curves of his body, tracing from the waist to wide hips.

A matching red mini skirt clung to Jesse’s noticeable hips, with a fake black belt with a golden buckle along the top edge, and..….oh, wow, that was a short skirt. It only reached past a few inches down his thick thighs. The entire image was only amplified by how the skirt seemed to strain over his thighs and hips, hugging the curves tightly. It was short. Dangerously short.

Genji was keenly aware that skirts like that could slide up very, very easily.

When he was finally able to drag his gaze lower, down legs that seemed to go on for miles, he noticed the above-the-knee red and white socks. The socks, which were spiral-striped like a candy cane, disappeared into black high heels with shiny golden buckles.

Once he had dazedly taken in all of the outfit, Genji’s gaze flitted back up to Jesse’s face, only to be caught off guard again when he realized that Jesse had put on makeup. His lips were shiny with glittery lipstick, and his thickly lashed, brown eyes were embellished with dark red, slightly glittery eyeshadow and winged eyeliner.

“Well?” Jesse grinned, lowering his hand back to his side and waiting expectantly for a reaction. The crowd surrounding them was entirely quiet, seemingly just as shocked.

Genji stared wordlessly, eyes wide and at a complete loss for words.

“You…” He muttered, internally grasping for full sentences. Jesse raised an eyebrow and strided closer, which of course made Genji lose his train of thought as he stared at the cowboy’s swaying hips.

He swallowed dryly.

“You win.”

Around them, the crowd gathered burst to life, hooting with the energy that could only be found at parties. Jesse’s eyes lit up with victory, “Told ya so, sweetheart. You are stuck with laundry duty, sucker. And one more thing...Check this out. I even got one a’ those temporary tattoos.”

Jesse spun on his heel, and all coherent thought flew out of Genji’s head as he stared at the sight before him. Beside him, Angela let out a surprised little gasp. There, on the small of Jesse’s back, was the word “Naughty”, written out in gaudy cursive font. A tramp stamp, that part of him from his old life pointed out.

And even using every last bit of his willpower, Genji wasn’t able to stop his eyes from dipping even lower.

It was downright illegal how goddamn amazing Jesse’s ass looked in that mini skirt. Something in Genji must have short circuited, because there wasn’t a single thought in his mind in that moment, aside from the ones that he immediately shut out. He just couldn’t stop staring.

Thankfully, Jesse turned back around to face him after a few seconds, and Genji was resolutely not disappointed.

“Wow.” Angela said, eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline. She shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face.

“That’s not all. Got one last surprise.” Jesse declared patting his hip.

He adjusted his skirt, hips wiggling as he shifted it around slightly.Then he dipped his thumbs under the fabric and suddenly pulled up two very thin black strips. Jesse pulled the strips up over his hip bones, then let them snap onto the skin there.

Genji stared at thin, string-like black strips standing out against the the tan skin just below Jesse’s waist, brain faltering as he the realization slowly sunk in.

“Guess what?” Jesse grinned, lips glinting with the glittery lipstick, “It came with a g string.”

Genji looked down at the black strips, then up at Jesse, then back down, and finally made the connection between the words and what he was looking at.

The crowd around them practically exploded. The agents clamored with delighted laughter and whooping, loudly cheering on the entire scandalousness of the situation. Somebody wolf whistled loudly. Jesse laughed and blew a kiss in that general direction. His flamboyant entrance and his outfit was just what was need to start tipping the Christmas party into the wild spectacle it was known for being. And he knew it, too, if his smug grin said anything.

This was going to be a long party.

[talented-headache]

Blame It On The Blonde

Pairing: HundarNova

Summary: James and Brett are stuck in a safe house together and it’s all Aleks’s fault. He should have known James was an idiot and crushing hard on their coworker. 

For the @ccsecretsanta

Merry Christmas, @tophatgoat it’s a little late but I hope you enjoy. 

[AO3 Link] [Link]

James wished he could blame Aleks on his now giant problem. Mostly because he’s been blaming his partner for year. For everything. But this all fell on James. It had been a rush decision and now he was the one stuck dealing with the consequences.

“I fucking hate the snow. There’s a very clear reason I moved to Los Santos.” Brett bitched at him. One hand moved from the steering wheel to wave at the window, the powdered snow instantly turned to water before being swept away from by the whippers. Every word had an emphasis that went along with the hand motions.

James looked up from his burner, one of the Fakehaus guys was watching Ein as they laid low for the next few weeks. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t constantly check in on his girl. He didn’t say anything to Brett yet he playfully rolled his eyes as they pulled into the Suburbian driveway, hours away from the city.

James stared at the boring and admittedly too small house they were forced to stay in. He had to block out the flashback of when he stood next to Aleks as everything fell apart around them. It was like the mist that closes in around headlights, barely there but creeping in with every rotation of the tires. He almost wished that instead of taking Aleks’s original spot he forced Brett and Lindsey to switch. Those assholes were going east towards warmer weather, bright lights, and gambling, while their latest group of stragglers they’ve adopted headed South to hid under FAHC’s protection.

James sat in the warm car for a minute after Brett stepped out to stretch his muscles. He could already feel his joints start to ache as the cold breeze hit his jacket from the open door. He reluctantly left when he felt the need to stand as his muscles jumped and twitched.

He smirked as he listened to Brett’s continuous grumbling as he shook his hat out, the snowflakes still clinging to it stubbornly. The grass could still be seen, barely, under the white layer but there was no doubt by morning there wouldn’t be any green in the neighborhood. James had to resist the urge to stare as Brett raked a hand over his smooth head, probably still getting used to the cold air against it.

James cleared his throat, not shocked that the noise didn’t startle Brett. He’s been making it for years to mess with people.

“Huh, then why did you fuckin’ pick this piece of shit?” James asked, the little actual irritation he felt bleed through as he moved to get his shit out of the trunk.

“I didn’t. Aleks did.” Brett said as he moved to stand next to him. “ I didn’t find out about this until he gave me the address in the van.”

James could feel the warmth from Brett’s arm as it brushed against his. “That’s what you fucking get for letting him plan shit.”

“Yeah, no more of that from now on.”

James laughed at him. They both knew if Aleks wanted to make a plan they’d make it happen with very little hesitation. Not in a friendship way either but the fact that they’re all danger junkies and their co-leader was the best at being reckless. It made their work easier.

Aleks had been so excited about planning the heist by himself, his confidence shot after their losses that year. He only took ideas from the crew and basically created a secret plan to surprise them. Early Christmas present he said. He had worked over those stupid plans and evacuations for months. But now they were successfully richer and stuck in a frozen hell hole; hours away from the city he was still learning to love.

“Are you even listening to me?” Brett cut through James’s thought process. He cringed as he was caught stuck in the past.

:Fucking, no.” James scoffed quickly grabbing his bags before walking to the door.

“Wow.” Brett laughed and opened the door for them. The house was barely decorated but it was furnished. And fucking freezing. James immediately found the thermostat, his body long used to the overbearing heat of Los Santos. Brett flopped onto the ugly fucking brown couch.

“Never thought I’d actually miss cow print.” James commented. Brett stretched his legs out in front of him and glared. He already had his phone out and was texting away on it.

“If you’re implying that you can sit on that fucking couch without contracting some venereal disease then do I have some news for you, buddy.”

James glared at him and loudly scoffed at him, ready to throw a fake fit. He bought that couch, the second of its kind, not long after their move. It wasn’t his fault that Aleks was a fucking dumbass.

~

James hated unpacking. He usually just leaves everything in his case until he needed it, which is exactly what he did. So he hung out on the bed until he really needed to move, which was hopefully never.

Night had already fallen over the neighborhood and he ate the few granola bars left over from the road trip. Brett promised a food delivery in the morning so he had no need to save them. The side crew has long since checked in so all he needed was to  here from Aleks and Lindsey. He wasn’t that worried about them, even if something went wrong those two could take care of it. They have before.

“James.” Brett’s voice carried across the house. James had gotten used to ignoring Brett’s irritated voice in the past few years. Mostly because he tended to not be on the receiving end of it. He closed his eyes and hoped if he pretended to sleep Brett would leave him alone, and while he really wanted to sleep but he couldn’t afford to fuck up his schedule more than he already had with the heist.

“James.” The irritation forced James up and out of the room before he even realized he was moving.

He could see Brett standing at the foot of his temporary bed. The scowl on his face was the one generally reserved for him and Aleks when their ideas went too far. This time is was thrown at a hideous red and yellow sweater he hung in front of his face.

“I thought we burned all those.” James said and Brett turned to look at him, he waved the sweater face stuck in between reprimanding James and chuckling with him.  

“They weren’t that bad, a few of the other Fakes definitely were though.” Brett said, his face went back to the dark irritation that plagued it when he walked in.

“Why did you even bring it? Can it even fucking fit you?” James said. He took the sweater from him and playfully pulled the arm of the sleeve to stretch it against Brett’s. He tried not to think about anything but making Brett laugh, especially the way his fingers barely skimmed his skin.

“I didn’t, you fuck.” He took the sweater back and threw it on the pile of clothes on the bed. “I didn’t bring these either.”

He pointed after it as it landed. The god awful mix of red and greens that could be seen under the sweater made James’s head hurt.

“What the fuck?”

“Exactly.” Brett answered, “All of my shirts are missing, even my work out ones.”

James breathed in deeply, the urge to scream almost too much as he turned to stare out the door then back at Brett.

“James?” Brett asked, James must have looked crazy because he did a few more times before he stomped out of the room. He rushed back to his own temporary room, he could almost feel the house shake with each step. Brett followed him back calling his name, amusement in his voice rather than concern.

He all but tore his bag in his rush to see the contents inside. He could barely hear Brett’s breathless laugh over his scream as his own pile of red and green formed on the bed.

~

I actually fucking hate you.

I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about this time.

~

“Can’t sleep?” Brett’s voice almost startled James out of his thoughts. Memories so far in the past that they felt like the melting snowflakes as they hit the window.

He shouldn’t even be sitting there, in the window. It’s might as well be the first rule of the safe house and if Aleks caught him James would actually get himself stabbed by his friend. James had to resist smiling at the thought of Aleks ranting at him as blood showed on his ghastly fake gold sweater.

“James.”

“What?” His headache only grew as the ambient noise he managed to block out filled the air. Not just Brett and his every movement but the wind against the house and the creaks created from it. Brett was silent and James didn’t even realize he had moved to stand in front of him, even with his sweater with what James had to assume was a fat Santa face. He held out a plain white mug out to James who gratefully took it.

“Tea?” James asked as he cradled the mug in his hands. The warmth grounded him in the present as Brett sat on the ledge with his own cup. “Is this tea?”

“Shut up and drink it.” Brett said, a small chuckle as he watched James sip from the cup purposely making a slurping noise as he did.

While silence filled the living room again, it was comfortable and relaxing. Completely different from terror of before. Terror isn’t the right word for it, more existential. Something Aleks would tell him is the same thing.

“Lindsey and I stayed in a place like this a few years ago.” Brett was the first to break the silence. James hummed at him, not necessarily prompting him on but not rejecting him either.

“It was more of a fucking shithole, though. The stove had been stolen and she broke the fucking door on the last night.” Brett’s nostalgic face seemed so different from James’s. He always assumed he was frowning when he thought but Brett looked content as he looked outside.

“How’d she fucking do that?” James’s voice was bordering too high pitched for the time of night but he never really cared and if Brett did he didn’t show it.

“No idea. I don’t actually remember much of that night.” James choked on his tea but it didn’t stop him from laughing at Brett. He always forgot the party side of the more responsible leader. It took him awhile to catch his breath from his wheezing and it was only because Brett gave him a ‘you done’ look.

“Look, I’m not going to pester you to talk about what’s going on in your head.” Brett started. James expected more but there wasn’t even a single ‘you’ve been quiet’ or anything.

“Thanks.”

“Now, finish your fucking tea and go to sleep.” Brett used his mug to point down the hall towards James’s room.

“I’m good. I don’t think sleep and I are going to get along tonight.” James offered, it was only a small fraction of the problem and usually only happened when he was far away from the crew. A few days was fine but no contact for a week outside initial contact wasn’t apparently.

“What, you want to braid each other’s hair and paint our toe nails?” Brett asked, the sarcasm in his voice on level with nearly every time he spoke. If it wasn’t for the amusement in his eyes James would believe he was actually irritated.

“You don’t exactly have much, dude.” James replied. “But a few more stories wouldn’t hurt.”

Brett stood but didn’t go far. He lent down and kept his face close to James’s. When he looked up at him Brett placed a small kiss to his forehead. “I’ll make more tea than. And if you’re a good boy I’ll tell you about mine and Joel’s French heist.”

“Fuck you!” James yelled out after him. All he got was a middle finger in return.

~

He was startled awake. For a second he couldn’t move his body as sleep still had a hold of him. He slowly reached his hand over to the other side of the bed only to feel the cold pillow. He didn’t panic, Brett had always been a morning person and James usually caught him after his new home workout during their long week trapped in the house. Besides nothing happened last night and James wasn’t one to cling anyway.

He almost let himself drift back to sleep when his interruption showed back up, he didn’t realize what was about to happen until it did. There was a distant crash from the outside of the door and light footsteps, but they were nothing compared to the shock of his door being kicked open. It bounced off the wall, hard enough to almost crack the drywall behind it and close again. James jumped the noise knocking the sleep from his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, you fucking bitch.” Aleks didn’t quite yell into the room but he did throw his lanky body onto the bed. He barely missed James as he bounced. He didn’t move away from his friend as they both relaxed into the bed.

“It’s ten in the morning. How are you already drunk?” James asked his head snuggled back into his pillow, a deep sigh coming from the true annoyance he felt.

“Oh, please. I’m tipsy at most, asshole. Lindsey made some home made eggnog. It’s fucking great, man.” Aleks replied, his face slightly red as he stared at the roof. It stood out from the blue pillow case in a way that made James wished he had his phone in hand. He’d have to remember it for later.

“Why are you even here?” he asked instead, already missing his alone time away.

“Fake AH crashed our down time. They fucking took the cops’ attention off of us with their own Christmas heist. We decided to have a family Christmas instead. Three days late but still, we even brought presents.” Aleks had that rare soft look on his face as he smiled over at James. It was still a recent thing to see him open with his emotions. Like being in control of his situation for once allowed him to do what he wanted without consequences or fear. It was more comforting than nice to see. James learned to ground himself in the present with it, one of the few changes that they needed.

He hummed and whipped the sleep crust from his eyes, purposely using his middle finger. Aleks just smiled at him. “How was the vacation?”

“Quiet.”

“I fucking doubt that.” Aleks snorted. His eyes scrunched up as he laughed at his own joke.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” James asked as he stretched his body. Aleks snorted and James saw his face light up.

“Yeah, dawg, if you hadn’t of asked for the switch I would have come up with some excuse to switch Brett and Lindsey.” He explained, the amusement in his voice as he moved to sit back on his elbows.

“I hate you, so much.” James reached over and kicked at him. Aleks continued to giggle and clutched onto the sheets as James attacked him. Eventually James managed to push him off the bed, yet he managed to take all of the blankets with him.

James let out a small screech as the comfort and warmth was taken from him. Aleks’s dumb head popped up from the side he landed on.

“Oh, good. You’re wearing pants.”

He groaned and grabbed his pillow. He flung it at Aleks’s face. It his with a thump and he dramatically went with the movement. He landed hard on the floor, hitting his head on the wall as he did.

“Hey! Stop fucking around.” Brett’s voice carried across the house. “Come decorate this stupid fucking tree.”

Aleks ran out of the room just as James threw another pillow at him. The last James saw of him was his middle finger as it rounded the corner. He slowly moved to follow Aleks, he groaned as the only available thing to throw on was a sweater that looked like it had cows fucking on it. They were probably supposed to be reindeer but the material made them look fat and round.

The first thing he saw as he entered the living room was the dead and brown pine tree. It wasn’t that tall, barely taller than Lindsey as she tried to toss some garland onto it. Aleks had already gotten another cup of eggnog and sat on the couch.

“Oh, good, that fuck got you out of bed.” Brett asked. He was leaning against the corner between the kitchen and living room. Today his sweater was neon green with red plaid all over it, even the words were made of the ugly combination.

“Is that a Fake Pine sweater?” James asked, barely restraining the giggle he had in his throat. Aleks and Lindsey didn’t.

“Yeah.” Brett shrugged, massive shoulders pulling at the seams slightly. “I hate it.”

“How did you do it?” James asked turning to the blondes, they were in the post laugh stuttery laugh stages. James scowled at them when they wouldn’t stop.

“A magician never reveals her secrets.” Lindsey replied, she bowed low and a piece of her hair got caught by one of the branches.

“She’s also the one to stash all the cars before the fucking heist.” Aleks pipped in. Lindsey threw an ornament at him. They bickered but it was lost on James as he moved to the kitchen to grab his own glass of eggnog.

“Sleep well?” Brett moved to stand behind him not quite touching him but close enough James could feel the heat from his chest. James thought about yelling at him and telling him to fuck off. Instead he smiled, a full mouth smile that everybody knew meant trouble. Brett scowled at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and took a step back for his safety.

“Amazing. I think it was the tea. Really put me to sleep.” James said and drank from the cup he made. Brett opened his mouth to say something in return but was interrupted by the front door being thrown open.  

“Presents!” A voice called out and chatter filled the air as the living room.

“We’re right here, you bitch.” James yelled back at them as he stepped around Brett who just smirked down and followed him. “Stop fucking yelling.”

The side crew had filled the room, not everyone James hopped to see but he had no control over people he wasn’t in command of anymore. He still missed the flashes of tall teenager and brown hairs and short and long haired people. He forced it out of his mind as Aleks roughly grabbed a present from the hands of their new intern.

James sat on the couch with Aleks, they each took their own corner and it wasn’t long before Brett worked his way onto the middle seat. James allowed himself to slowly relax next to him as everybody started to sing some butchered version of Holy Night and threw tinsel at each other.

[sevenfists]

Glasses Geno is Sid's sexuality now too...🤓❤️l

Geno was predictably enthused about the glasses, because he was enthused about everything. There was only one pair, and so after Sid was done filming his part, he had to go down the hall to find Geno, who was having his hair artfully arranged by the makeup lady. He already looked stupid but undeniably good in his grandpa sweater, and it got worse when he slid the glasses onto his face.

“How I look?” he asked, grinning at Sid. “Good, right?”

Jesus. “You look like a nerd,” Sid said, which was true.

“Like sexy nerd,” Geno said, still grinning.

“You’re a sexy librarian,” Rusty said, halfway into his Santa costume. “You work at the reference desk, and you’ve got the whole Dewey decimal system memorized.”

“That’s, uh, that’s a pretty specific fantasy there, Rusty,” Sid said.

“Rusty likes nerds!” Geno crowed, and then yelped as the makeup lady got too aggressive with the comb. He had a tender scalp and was always a baby about it.

Sid was technically done for the day, but he hung out to watch Geno film his bit, goofing around with the bar of soap and giving the camera guys a hard time. He had—okay, maybe sort of a crush on Geno, and also a lifelong appreciation for glasses, and the two were colliding now in a pretty unfortunate way.

It wasn’t, like. A fetish. He didn’t watch glasses porn or anything like that. He just liked how glasses changed a person’s face. Geno in glasses looked like someone who had a bunch of cats and houseplants, who would be interested in the podcasts Sid listened to instead of making fun of him for being boring. Like maybe he would want to spend the night and let Sid make him breakfast in the morning.

He was so screwed. He had known Geno forever, but they’d never been single at the same time before. He kept waiting for his crush to go away, but instead it was just getting worse, and after three months he was starting to feel like he needed to maybe say something to Geno, so he could get shot down and move on with his life.

“Okay, let’s do one last take from a different angle,” the director said.

“My jaw hurts!” Geno complained, laughing. “This soap’s too big, give me smaller.”

“Open wide, G,” Sid said, trying not think about other circumstances under which Geno might complain about an aching jaw.

“You think you do better? Okay, come here,” Geno said to him, holding out the soap.

“Sid’s already done his filming,” the director said.

“One take,” Sid said. “Guess I’m better at acting than you are, eh?”

Geno stared at him, eyes and mouth wide with outrage. “You—Sid!”

Nobody else was looking at him. Sid succumbed to impulse and stuck out his tongue.

Geno grinned and shook his head, and unhinged his jaw once more for the soap.

+ + +

Jen emailed them some of the raw footage a week later, when they were on the plane heading out to Vegas. Sid watched it on his phone as soon as he got the notification. Geno was really cute on a day-to-day basis, and in a playful mood, and wearing those glasses, he was custom-designed to push Sid’s buttons.

He really needed to get over this.

“You watching the Christmas video?” Tanger asked him from across the aisle. “I look great, don’t you think?”

“Hideous,” Sid said, and barely managed to dodge the pack of peanuts Tanger threw at him.

He wasn’t at all ready to play Flower, but he knew the other guys were taking their cues from him to some extent, and he had to keep it together. He managed pretty well until two-touch right before the game, when it hit him all at once. He excused himself and went to find a dark corner where he could focus on his breathing for a few minutes and get his emotions under control.

He was a little surprised when Geno came to find him. Geno was usually pretty oblivious to people’s meltdowns and didn’t offer much in the way of support. Sid didn’t have a problem with that; Geno’s job, as far as he was concerned, was keeping his own colossal emotions in check. But Geno was here now, hovering at a safe distance, frowning, his sleeves pulled down to cover his hands.

“You leave game,” Geno said.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Sid said. “Just, uh. Needed to take a breather.”

Geno drifted closer. “You upset about Flower?”

Sid exhaled shakily. “I’m fine. Just another game, eh?”

“I’m upset, too,” Geno said. He tugged on the brim of Sid’s cap and then slung an arm around Sid’s shoulders. “It’s okay to be sad. We play hard, do our best. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Sid said. Geno was so warm. Sid leaned against him, just a little.

“Come back to game,” Geno said. “Horny is cheat, we need captain for yell at him.”

Geno didn’t take his arm away as they walked back toward the two-touch commotion. Sid enjoyed it a lot, too much. His crush wasn’t easing up. He needed to say something. He knew Geno well enough that he was pretty sure Geno would let him down easy and without freaking out, but things would probably be awkward for a while. But Sid refused to pine away foolishly for months. He could handle rejection.

He would tell Geno before Christmas: get it over with, and then go home for a few days to eat his mom’s cookies and feel sorry for himself. And then he could put it behind him at last.

+ + +

Sid had decided to throw a casual holiday party for the team and his local friends. It had seemed like a great idea when he sent the invitations around before American Thanksgiving, but the day before the party, bleary after a late-night flight home from Colorado, he was tempted to text everyone and cancel.

He didn’t, and he regretted it immensely when Geno showed up for the party half an hour late and wearing glasses.

“Wow,” Hags said when Geno came into the den with a plate of food in one hand and a glass of punch in the other. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s not my fault, okay,” Geno said. “I get new contact lenses, they’re not right, I don’t know.”

“So you decided to go all Revenge of the Nerds on us?” Phil asked.

“You make fun? Fuck you, Phil!” Geno said. “It’s hurt my eyes, okay—”

Sid stopped paying attention. The glasses didn’t look much like the ones Geno had worn for the holiday video. The frames were smaller, black and square. But the effect was the same and just as devastating. Geno was wearing an ugly Christmas tree sweater that probably wasn’t ironic in the least. Sid wanted to heavily spike his punch and try to lure him beneath the mistletoe.

He wouldn’t. But he really wanted to.

He was a terrible host that evening. Geno’s sweater was probably really soft. He had taken off his shoes when he came into the house, and his socks had reindeer faces on them, Geno’s long toes stretching out the red noses. Sid kept the punch bowl filled and set out more food when the trays got depleted, but otherwise he was a distracted mess. He kept going into the laundry room to give himself a few minutes to calm down. His guests were going to think he’d picked up a stomach bug.

Geno was in the kitchen the third time Sid emerged from the laundry room. He flashed Geno a tight smile that probably looked more terrified than happy and sidled on through to the living room. But Geno followed him, and sat down on the sofa beside him, and stretched out his arm along the back of the couch, behind Sid’s shoulders.

“Okay, Sid?” he murmured, and knocked their knees together. “You quiet tonight.”

Sid forced a smile. “Fine.” Geno’s glasses really complemented the shape of his face. He looked like a good person to curl up with in front of a fireplace to drink some hot chocolate and maybe exchange a few chocolatey kisses.

He was tormenting himself. He needed to stop.

He sat stiffly beside Geno for a few minutes, holding himself carefully still so that his thigh or shoulder wouldn’t accidentally brush Geno’s. Geno was sitting really close. He didn’t move his arm away. Sid drained his glass of punch and said, “Refill,” and made his escape.

He drank enough to get giggly, which was always embarrassing, but at least it helped the night go by faster. People started to trickle out at a reasonable hour, because they had a game the next day, and Sid started cleaning up in the kitchen to hustle the stragglers along.

“You need help?” Geno asked, and Sid turned to see him in the doorway, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows, a stack of dirty plates in his hands like he was Sid’s hot and thoroughly domesticated boyfriend and wanted nothing more than to help Sid clean up after their joint holiday party.

“I, uh,” Sid said. He was too drunk for this. “I’ve got it. I’m fine. Thanks. You don’t need to help.”

“Hmm,” Geno said. He came into the kitchen and started scraping the plates into the trash. “You sure you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sid said, and then, “No.” He only had three days left before his self-imposed deadline. He might as well get it over with. “Geno, uh. I have something I need to tell you.”

Geno set down the plate he was holding and turned to face Sid, slouching against the counter. His legs were so long. He raised his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Sid’s stomach felt tight. His heart was pounding, and he felt it mostly in his belly, the artery there throbbing heavily. This was going to be so fucking embarrassing. He was grateful for the punch. “I, uh. I’m interested in you. Romantically. And I just need to tell you so I can get over it.”

“What?” Geno said. He straightened up. His face looked—

Sid ducked his head. He couldn’t bear to watch Geno’s expression. “It’s only been a few months, I haven’t been—I didn’t want it go on too long. I won’t be weird about it. But I thought I should tell you, in case I’m a little weird about it.”

“It’s glasses?” Geno asked.

Sid risked a quick glance at him. He didn’t look mad. Maybe he was smiling a little, but that wasn’t possible. “What?”

“You like glasses,” Geno said. “That’s why.”

“No,” Sid said. “I mean—I like the glasses.” His face was so hot. He was thirty, for Christ’s sake. This shouldn’t be so difficult. “But it’s not just the glasses.”

They weren’t standing too far apart. Sid’s kitchen wasn’t that big. Geno took a few steps and then he was right there. Sid felt like he was underwater, everything slowed down and refracted as Geno reached toward him and put one big hand on Sid’s shoulder. His thumb brushed the side of Sid’s neck.

“I see you look at me,” Geno said. “When we make Christmas movie. And maybe I wonder a little.”

Sid squinted at him. “Did you wear glasses tonight just to fuck with me?”

“Maybe,” Geno said. He smiled. His thumb moved again, and this time Sid couldn’t tell himself the touch was accidental. He raised his other hand and cupped Sid’s jaw. “Sid,” he said, hushed.

Sid didn’t know if there were still other people in his house. He didn’t fucking care, not when Geno was looking at him like that. He tilted his face up and hoped his expression conveyed exactly how desperate he was for Geno to kiss him. Geno was too tall for him to take matters into his own hands.

Geno breathed something that might have been Russian and bent his head, angling down toward Sid in the perfect position for kissing. But a kiss didn’t come. Geno hovered there, breathing against Sid’s lips, his long fingers so careful on Sid’s face.

Sid was shaking a little. He lifted his chin that last little bit and pressed their mouths together.

“Sid,” Geno murmured, and Sid hooked one arm around Geno’s neck to hold him in place so they could kiss for real, slow and soft. Geno’s lips were full and a little rough and nothing had ever felt this good, nothing.

When they broke apart at last, Sid turned his face against Geno’s neck and clung to him. Reckless joy welled up inside his heart. “I never thought, uh.”

Geno held him tight and close and pressed kisses against his hair. “I never think. Oh, Sid.”

“Let’s go on a date,” Sid said. “After Christmas. I’ll take you out.”

“Okay,” Geno said. He drew back and touched Sid’s cheek. His expression was as open and awed as Sid had ever seen it. Christmas had come early, and maybe every day would feel like Christmas for the rest of Sid’s life.

It was too soon to say any of that. He pressed a kiss to Geno’s jaw. “I won’t even make you wear the glasses,” he said.

[stennnn06]

Fic/AU where Lena finds out Kara is Supergirl because they always wear the exact same earrings (especially when Lena sees Supergirl wearing the same ones she bought for Kara for Christmas/her birthday/an anniversary.)

So, my hand slipped. Also on AO3.

LENA

It starts as a little…experiment. Harmless, really. Just piqued curiosity getting the best of a scientist and deep feelings getting the best of a girl. But Lena Luthor is fairly certain, with almost publication-worthy amounts of data, that Supergirl and Kara Danvers are the same person.

She eventually scrapes enough evidence together to turn this into a full-blown theory.

Exhibit A: The fact that they’ve never been in the same room at the same time. Gala events, L-Corp news conferences, the alien invasion. Never once do the two cross paths, despite similar interests. Similar invitations. Even similar proximity, just never side by side. Yet Supergirl somehow always shows up when Lena needs her, with a penchant for proclaiming her innocence in a very Kara Danvers-esque way. Peculiar.

Exhibit B: The fact that Lena has caught Kara, on too many occasions, slipping up in flustered, adorable sentences that make little to no sense. It’s only after hours, when Lena is alone, replaying their conversations, that the turn of phrase strikes her as odd. She’s confident buses don’t fly, and that Kara doesn’t traditionally drink coffee at midnight. She’s pretty sure “golly” went out of style years ago, and then of course there’s still that small unsolved mystery of the frayed wiring of her alien detection device. Intriguing.

Exhibit C: The fact that no one should be able to eat the amount of junk food that Kara does and look like that. Anyone with a primary diet of pizza, potstickers and donuts should barely be alive, let alone functioning at Kara Danvers’ level of energy. Further, Lena is positive Kara actually goes out of her way to avoid vegetables completely, which is evident by her meltdown over the kale incident at brunch. Lena laughs at the memory, and Kara’s horrified face, but then quickly files it away for later – mostly for how unfair it is that Kara hates kale and somehow still has the abdominals of a god. Well, rumored abdominals. It isn’t like Lena’s really seen them. Or felt them. Or thought about feeling them.

Exhibit D: The fact that they both have exceptionally strong arms, and happen to give some of the best hugs in the universe, because they’re warm and strong and….. Maybe not scientifically accurate, but it’s a hypothesis that has been tested under multiple conditions and Lena is secretly adamant about this last fact.

All in all, the evidence is stacked in favor of Kara being Kryptonian, but it’s not enough to keep Lena up at night.

(Fine, it keeps her up at night, but she hardly sleeps as it is.)

But the main piece of evidence, the one that launches this entire investigation?

A pair of earrings.

Several, actually.

Five, to be exact.

Lena tries not to make a habit of noticing everything Kara wears, but attention to detail is something she prides herself on. It’s the scientist in her. Not to mention, she can’t really help it. Kara’s just so lovely and her hair is so golden and her face is so soft…

Lena sighs. It’s really ridiculous how smitten she is with her best friend, and maybe she would be dealing with that more if she wasn’t also semi-convinced that this same best friend is also a super hero. But, such is life. Anyway, earrings. Kara and Supergirl have, on more than one occasion, been known to sport the same pairs of identical earrings. It seems trivial, and Lena has even spent more hours than she cares to admit wracking her brain for the explanation to how Supergirl could even have her ears pierced. (Lena’s conclusion is that it happened on Krypton before arriving to Earth. The only logical explanation).

The first few times it happened, Lena chalked it up to coincidence, because there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the earrings in question. Simple studs, occasional small pearls, nothing out of the ordinary. Perfectly reasonable to expect they might share similar fashion tastes and a modest price range.

But something about it just seemed…off. So, she took fate into her own hands.

Now, it’s just a tradition.

Earrings for birthday presents. Earrings for Christmas. Earrings as ‘thank-you’s’ and earrings as ‘just-because’. Along with her signature bouquets of endless flowers, Lena has single-handedly transformed Kara’s earring collection from sparse to overflowing in the matter of a year. It’s a pretty impressive accomplishment, even if she hasn’t particularly caught Kara in the act yet.

Which is why this year, she’s going for it.

This year, a huge part of her motivation for buying Kara some over the top earrings for Christmas, ones that could never, ever be mistaken for an ordinary pair, are specifically in case a certain caped crusader also decides to wear them. It’s deceptive. It’s sneaky. It’s something a Luthor would do. Except…

The remaining motivation, and some could argue, the majority of it, is that she is hopelessly head over heels in love with Kara, and dropping the equivalent of a rent check on some jewelry doesn’t even come close to showing her true feelings.

But that’s not the point.

~*~*~*~*~

KARA

“Lena! I can’t…”

“You can…”

“I really, really can’t…” Kara sputters, handling the sparkling, flawless and oh so expensive looking diamond earrings in her hands. She’s already afraid they’re going to break if she looks at them the wrong way, let alone actually putting them on. But Lena’s there, and she’s so sincere and thoughtful and she’s looking at Kara with those eyes, urging her to take them, to just accept them as a gift. A gift! More like the equivalent of her paycheck for the next several months, but Kara can’t say that out loud. She can’t refuse this. In fact, Kara has never been able to say no to that face. Instead she stammers and blushes and fiddles with the box and tries to avoid that look. “They probably cost a fortune!”

Lena quirks her perfectly manicured eyebrow at that, a smooth, smug smile flickering across her lips, before it’s immediately replaced by something softer. Gentler. Concern, but also– doubt? Oh, no, that’s not what Kara wanted. The earrings are perfect. Lena is perfect. But how can she actually accept these?

“Kara, it’s Christmas, and where’s the fun if you can’t just indulge once in awhile?” Lena’s voice is smooth and silky, like Kara’s favorite type of hot chocolate – the kind they sell at Noonan’s with the extra dark chocolate and the extra, extra marshmallows. She eyes the contents of the box once more. They’re spectacular, and it would be rude to say no, right?

“Thank you, Lena, but you didn’t have to do this,” she settles with instead, and the smile is back on Lena’s face, which immediately warms Kara’s chest.

“I know, but I wanted to. You deserve it,” Lena insists, the small crinkle in her forehead prominent, the way it always is when she’s trying to emphasize a point. Mostly when she’s trying to assure Kara of something, which is happening more often these days.

Kara wants to relax and enjoy the moment, but her mind is whirling on super speed, processing what just happened. She chastises herself for the matching ugly sweater idea that was going to be part of Lena’s Christmas present, scrapping that plan immediately. It’s impossible to follow up diamond earrings with a picture of Grumpy Cat on a sweater, no matter how funny she found it only a few days ago.

What does it all mean?

Alex, for one, is never going to let her hear the end of this. But friends buy each other presents all the time, don’t they? It’s Christmas! She just happens to have a billionaire for a best friend. One with incredible fashion sense and who sometimes forgets the value of a dollar. A gorgeous, brilliant, generous and amazing best friend that perhaps recently she has been harboring some not-so-best-friend feelings for. But it’s Lena, and she’s in a category all her own.

It’s really not that complicated when you think about it.

Sirens go off in the distance interrupting their quiet little moment. National City’s never-ending alarm.

Kara’s heart drops. It’s the reminder of that little secret she’s still keeping from Lena. The one she’s going to have to tell eventually, before she actually tells her that other thing about her feelings.

Okay, so it’s a little complicated.

~*~*~*~*~*

LENA

It takes twelve days. Not bad, all things considered, with holiday parties and game nights and wine, so much wine. But it takes twelve days to catch Supergirl with Kara’s diamond encrusted earrings. Another investment, so well worth it.

Lena is back at L-Corp to finish some late night paperwork. Her old office is still the only place she can think clearly when there are pressing deadlines, and fortunately, it’s vacant on account of Lena begging Sam to take a much needed night off.

A familiar breeze rustles outside, before a quiet ‘thump’ signals a visitor landing on the cool concrete floor of the balcony. Lena’s lip involuntarily upticks into a satisfied smile. Her cheeks flush the way they always do in response to a surprise visit from the caped Kryptonian.

“Supergirl!” Lena greets, turning in her chair to face the back door. Supergirl easily walks through. Strong. Confident. Hands on hips, like she belongs here. Lena swallows delicately. “How did you know I was here?”

Supergirl turns and offers a small, playful smile of her own, which Lena takes to mean she isn’t here on any official business.

“The lights haven’t been left on in your office at this hour for months, I knew it had to be you,” she says, striding over slowly. Her hair is perfectly windswept and curled, and Lena barely hears the end of her sentence before she’s imagining what it would be like to run her fingers through it for hours.

There’s silence, as Supergirl eyes her curiously, and Lena immediately snaps out of her dangerously wandering thoughts.

“Guilty,” she says, and it has more than one meaning. She’s about to say something else, something probably intentionally flirtatious, when it happens. She inhales sharply.

Lena has prepared for this moment. She’s rehearsed her movements, and practiced her lines and hell, she’s even dreamed about what it would mean. But when it happens, and the diamonds catch the light just right, twinkling at her from the nest of charmingly golden locks of hair, Lena freezes. Her heart stops.

Kara is Supergirl. Her Kara is Earth’s champion, the girl of steel. Lena is in love with an actual super hero, and somehow, it doesn’t dawn on her until right this very moment.

A Luthor and a Super, in so many more ways than one.

“Ms. Luthor, is everything okay?” Supergirl’s head tilts in confusion as she looks at her with inquisitive eyes and pouty lips. That doesn’t do anything to help Lena’s mind begin processing coherent thoughts again.

“Oh yes, fine. I was just–” Lena pauses, inhaling a shaky breath. She clenches her jaw. She stands and slowly closes the gap between her and Supergirl. She reaches a trembling hand out slowly and hooks her fingers carefully around Supergirl’s ear, admiring the jewels in question. “Those are some exquisite earrings. You certainly have good taste.”

She thinks to be angry, for a moment. Kara has been lying to her, after all. But a quick look into those gentle blue eyes – the ones she would recognize anywhere, now that she’s actually looking – and all traces of anger simply disappear.

“Oh I–I um–” Lena can hear the hitch in Supergirl’s breath as her eyes dart from side to side in silent panic. “I borrowed them–from a… a friend…”

“A friend,” Lena deadpans, her eyes trailing over the Super’s stubborn face. Kara isn’t going to make this easy. But Lena isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“From Kara,” Supergirl corrects.

“She’s incredibly generous,” Lena replies, unconvinced.

“She is,” Supergirl agrees, her voice quieter than normal. “Maybe not as generous as you, though. She told me you um– you gave them to her.”

Lena eyes her cryptically. She wonders if she should start talking about herself in the third person, too. A little bit of that good Luthor snark, just to see how Kara would respond. But she bites her tongue and offers a cool smile instead.

“I did,” Lena says, her confidence growing by the second. “You know, I picked these specifically because they remind me of her eyes.”

“They–they do?” Kara gulps, and Lena takes far too much pleasure in watching her throat bob in nervous tension.

“But I suppose you can get away with wearing them too, you both have such beautiful eyes,” Lena continues, very much aware of the fact that her hand is still cupping the side of Kara’s face, daring her to say something, or back away.

Daring her to move.

~*~*~*~*~*

KARA 

She knows why she came here.

At least, she thinks she does. But her mind is shockingly blank as she stands in Lena’s office, late at night, with nothing but Lena’s ruby red lips and sly, captivating smile, the one that always seems to be on the verge of spilling an innuendo and setting Kara’s nerves on fire. Kara is getting better at relaxing around Lena, sometimes. But then there’s other moments when her face just looks like that, and she stands just a little too close and…

The plan really was to come clean. To tell her about this little side gig of a job she has, and hope to Rao that Lena would understand. It’s just that something else happened to do the talking for her. Apparently, these diamonds really do come with a price. How had she forgotten to take them off?

Lena is looking at her with such an endearing look in her eyes, and her fingers are still tracing over the outline of Kara’s jaw, and everything is so unbelievably warm and her lips look so incredibly soft…

“I can’t do this,” Kara whispers, pulling back from Lena’s grasp and wincing as she does. It’s almost physically painful to position herself out of Lena’s orbit, but it’s necessary. She has to tell her. “Lena, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Lena’s eyes narrow, as her lips purse in thought. She crosses her arms tightly across her body, in a classic Lena pose, the one that makes her seem primed for a rejection. Kara is already wishing she could rewind and start this entire scenario over again. She doesn’t want Lena to feel like this, even for a second.

“It’s…me,” Kara fumbles awkwardly, unsure how to even get these words to sound remotely correct. She wrings her hands and clenches her jaw and shuffles her weight, somehow all at once. “I’m Supergirl. I mean, I’m Kara. Kara is Supergirl. I’m…”

Lena softens immediately, dropping her arms to her sides. She smiles, shaking her head gently, as her eyes scan the ground. They flutter up eventually to meet Kara’s own. She’s grinning that dimpled grin, the one she gets when she’s genuinely happy, and Kara can’t help but mirror the same face because it’s so much better than yelling. “I’m…so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…” Kara offers, still, just to be safe.

“Finally,” Lena chuckles, her eyes sparkling in pleasant amusement. “I really thought I’d have to buy you earrings forever.”

An awkward laugh escapes Kara’s throat.

“Finally?” Kara asks, stunned. “You mean you knew? How?”

“Well, I had my reasons, which I can certainly talk you through at some point,” Lena grins mischievously, and Kara begins to realize this has been going on for much longer than she ever expected. “But I have to admit, it was the earrings that tipped me off. You and Supergirl have worn the same earrings consistently. I sort of took it from there.”

Kara can feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she registers just exactly how she’s been had. Lena is still looking at her with a strange expression, like she’s seeing Kara for the first time. She is, in a way, Kara reasons. But there’s something more behind that look. Lena shifts and smiles.

“Is there anything else, Kara?” she asks, her lips forming around her name slowly and purposefully. It makes Kara’s heart flutter nervously.

There are several beats of maddening silence, or what would be silence if Kara could get the thunderous sounds of chaotic heartbeats out of her head. She can’t decide if it’s hers, or Lena’s, or both, but it’s an encouraging sign that they both seem to be a little on edge. She needs to just…say it. I’m Kara, I’m also Supergirl, and I’m also in love with you. There. She’s already halfway there.

“Go out with me!” she blurts instead, completely unprovoked. Nailed it.

Lena looks startled for a second, registering Kara’s brash command before her lips twist in knowing contemplation.

“I mean, I’d really like to take you out, like, on a date. With me.” Kara clarifies. Slightly better, but not by much.

Lena takes a step forward, putting herself inches from where Kara is standing. She replaces her hand back along the side of Kara’s face, where it’s still burning from the ghost of her fingertips a few minutes earlier. Her eyes slowly draw from Kara’s lips to her eyes and back again, seeking a small confirmation before closing the gap between them for good. Kara’s hands immediately wrap around her waist, pulling her in as close as possible. She doesn’t even realize she’s floating until she feels Lena smile against her lips.

“Is that a yes?” Kara whispers along Lena’s mouth once her feet manage to touch the ground again.

Lena kisses her deeper, nodding into Kara’s grip, the smile never leaving her face.

“Does this mean no more earrings?” Kara asks, her brow furrowing in thought when they both finally come back up for air. She really does like the way Lena picks out the nicest jewelry, even if Kara doesn’t have a prayer to ever return the favor.

Lena laughs, and the sound of it makes Kara smile so hard, her cheeks ache.

“I think we can come up with an arrangement,” Lena acknowledges, kissing Kara’s cheek once more. “There’s always anniversaries, right?”

[golflakeridgegc]

Lake Ridge Golf Course Weekly Newsletter Dec 10, 2018

Would like to thank all who came out for Sunday’s Cornhole Tournament. It was a great success. Congratulations to Dave and Sam Case for taking 1st place. 2nd place went to Anthony Kienast and Ben Brouhard. A special thanks to Justin Tegels and Nikole Brummett for all their help in setting this up. Who knew that throwing a bag of corn into a hole could be so much fun. And with that being said, mark your calendars for Sunday Jan 13 at 2:00 as we will do it all over again.

10% SALE ON MEMBERSHIPS

Now through Dec 31, if you purchase a new membership or renew your current membership we’ll give you a 10% discount for the 2019 golf season. So renew early and save.

50% OFF ALL GOLF APPAREL IN THE PRO SHOP

Need to buy that special someone a Christmas present? Now through Dec 24, receive a 50% discount on ALL men’s and ladies golf apparel, hats and visors. Makes for a great stocking stuffer or Christmas present for that special golfer in your life.

DINERS SAVINGS CARD

We have introduced our Diners Savings Card program. For every 8 paid dinners, you get $10.00 off on your next meal. (Qualifying meals are $8.95 and up and cannot be used with other offers and must be redeemed by Mar 31, 2019)

WINTER HOURS

We will open to accommodate any golfers, weather permitting, so please call in advance to book a tee time. As usual Caddies Lounge opens every day at 4:00 and Fairways Restaurant is open from 5 to 9 seven days a week. Please note:  Caddies Lounge will close no earlier than 10:30 Sunday – Thursday and 11:30 on Friday and Saturday. However if we have customers, we will stay open until 1:00 am. So come early, leave late. Please call us on 402-235-4653 if your running late and want to have a few drinks. We are here to accommodate you.

HOLIDAY HOURS

The kitchen will be closed Christmas Eve, but Caddies Lounge will be open from 4 – 8. So come and join us for a Christmas drink or two and enjoy some complimentary appetizers. We will be closed Christmas Day. We hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

TEXAS HOLDEM AND TACO TUESDAY

Play Texas HoldEm every Tuesday starting at 7:30 and enjoy Happy Hour rates while playing and the chance at winning prizes. Did I also mention it’s Taco Tuesday with $2 Margarita’s. So if you  like poker, tacos and margaritas, Lake Ridge is the place to be on Tuesday nights.

LADIES ORNAMENT EXCHANGE THURSDAY DEC 13 AT 7:00

The annual Ladies League ornament exchange is this Thursday Dec 13 at 7:00 in Caddies Lounge. Why not invite your  friends and have a few drinks and some dinner and get in the Christmas spirit, the more the merrier. And I’m sure we will get the Karaoke going so you can sing the night away…

UGLY SWEATER PARTY FRIDAY DEC 21 AT 9:00          

This year’s Ugly Sweater party will  be held Friday Dec 21 in Caddies Lounge starting at 9:00. We will have prizes for the   “ugliest sweater” and “most original” sweater. We will have drink specials and of course Karaoke for all those who like to sing.

NEW YEAR’S EVER DINNER MONDAY DEC 31    

It’s time to start making plans for New Year’s Eve on Monday Dec 31. Come say good bye to 2018 and bring in 2019 in style at Lake Ridge. We have a wonderful menu planned for your evening along with DJ Tim Dunlap spinning out all your favorite songs. . Please RSVP to better assist us in planning for this great evening. Book early to ensure your spot.

BINGO NIGHT AT THE RIDGE THURSDAY NOV 29 FROM 7:00 – 9:00

Come join us this Thursday Jan 3 from 7:00 – 9:00 for BINGO Night at the Ridge. Have some dinner or some cocktails and test your luck and win big playing Bingo. Enjoy Happy Hour rates while playing. Hope to see you at the Ridge.

CORN HOLE TOURNAMENT SUNDAY JAN 13 AT 2:00

Come join us for our first Indoor Corn Hole Tournament  this Sunday Dec 9 at 2:00.  Entry fee is $20 per team with the winner taking 70% of the pot and the runner up taking 30%. Please note that due to limited amount of space we are limiting this event to the first 16 teams to sign-up. This will be a double elimination tournament. We currently have 15 teams signed up, so please call us on 402-235-4653 to sign-up today to ensure your spot. Sunday Funday just got a little better…

BEACH PARTY SATURDAY JAN 26 STARTING AT 8:00

Tired of winter and wish you were at the beach?? Come join us Saturday Jan 26 in Caddies Lounge for our annual Beach Party. So screw winter, put on those bikinis, swim trunks and flip flops and  imagine you’re at the beach and party like it’s summer time. Party starts at 8:00.

BIG RED GOLF TOURS

The 2019 Big Red Golf Tours book is now available. For only $99.95 the book features over 100 golf courses within 60 miles of Lincoln and Omaha. Buy the book for yourself, buy the book for a friend. They make great gifts for all the golfers in your life. Please feel free to visit their website at www.bigredgolftours.com for more information and a list of all the other courses that are available through this program.

NEBRASKA GOLF PASSPORT

We are pleased to announce that we have partnered with the Nebraska Golf Passport. The Nebraska Golf Passport gives you access and a FREE 18-hole green fee to ALL of their premier private and public courses! At each course you play, a Passport Fee applies which covers your exclusive rate & cart for the round. Enjoy a tremendous value while experiencing the BEST of Nebraska Golf and the surrounding area! Visit: https://nebraskagolfpassport.org/ to view the premier line-up of private member only facilities you can play with the passport along with the great public courses included as well! Cost is $109.99 plus tax. **Purchase before January 1st and be entered into a drawing for a dream trip for four to Tatanka Golf Club!

EVENT PLANNING

Need to plan an event? Well look no further. Whether it’s a golf outing, retirement party, birthday party, class reunion or any social event, we look forward to working  with you to plan and host your event and make it an enjoyable and memorable experience for all. An up-to-date schedule has been posted on our website at http://golflakeridge.com and has also been posted to our Facebook Page.

And speaking of Facebook, feel free to “like” and follow us on the  Lake Ridge Country Club’s Facebook Page. Keep up-to-date with all the events and daily specials Lake Ridge has to offer.  Please click on the link fb.me/BeaverLakeRidgeGolf. If the link does not work, simply cut and paste the link into your address bar on your web browser. Please feel free to rate us and give us any feedback that would allow us to better serve you.

FAIRWAYS RESTAURANT 

We are open for dinner from 5 – 9 seven nights a week and now open for lunch from 11 – 2 Friday’s, Saturdays and Sundays. Whether you want to dine in the restaurant, Caddies Lounge or out on the deck, we are committed to providing quality food at a great price in a very comfortable setting. In a hurry or don’t feel like cooking, call us in advance for takeout orders.

HAPPY HOUR MONDAY – FRIDAY FROM 4 TO 6 

Enjoy discounted prices on beer, wine and spirits in Caddies Lounge.

DAILY DRINK SPECIALS

MONDAY – BUY A BUCKET OF 6 BEERS AND GET ELEPHANT WINGS FOR .25 CENTS. (MINIMUM ORDER OF 10 WINGS)

TUESDAY – $2.00 MARGARITA’S

WHISKEY & WINE WEDNESDAY – $1.00 OFF ANY WHISKEY OR GLASS OF WINE AND $1.00 12oz BUD LIGHT DRAFTS FROM 4:00 – 9:00

THIRSTY THURSDAY – HAPPY HOUR FROM 4:00 – 9:00

FIREBALL FRIDAY – $1.00 OFF FIREBALL SHOTS

SATURDAY – HAPPY HOUR DURING HUSKERS GAMES AND FREE JELLO SHOT WHEN HUSKERS SCORE TD

SUNDAY – $1.00 OFF A PITCHER OF BEER AND BLOODY MARY’S

DAILY FOOD SPECIALS 

MONDAY – CHEF’S CHOICE

TUESDAY – TWO LARGE TASTY FRIED TACOS

WEDNESDAY – STEAK AND EGGS

THURSDAY – CHICKEN AND STEAK QUESADILLAS

FRIDAY – STEAK AND FRIED SHRIMP DINNER

SATURDAY –  RACKS OF BBQ RIBS

SUNDAY – CHEF’S CHOICE

TRY SOME OF OUR NEW APPETIZERS: FRIED PICKLES, MINI CORN DOGS OR PRETZEL BITES

MEMBER APPRECIATION NIGHT

Sundays are Members Appreciation night. All members get 20% off their food order. So come on out and take advantage of your membership for some great food at a great price.

PLAY CASS COUNTY KENO

Enjoy some dinner and drinks and play some Keno. Pick the winning numbers and win big $$$.

DARTS

Darts anyone? Come on up and enjoy a few beers, play some darts in Caddy’s Shack and listen to some of your favorite songs on the Jukebox. You can also download  the AMI Jukebox app to your phone and play the jukebox from your phone. Just do a search for AMI Jukebox under your APPS store and download the app. Once you have downloaded the app, select Caddy’s Lounge as your location. It’s quick and easy to setup.

KARAOKE

We have Karaoke every Friday and Saturday starting at 9:00.

  Todd Berry

Director of Golf

Lake Ridge Golf Course

Phone: 402-235-4653

lakeridgegolf@spiralfiber.com

The post Lake Ridge Golf Course Weekly Newsletter Dec 10, 2018 appeared first on Lake Ridge Golf Course.