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originalfatfiction · 28 days

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Mason's Gain

Mason Megalos had been my best friend for over a decade when everything fell apart. I still hadn’t gotten over how suddenly we went our separate ways. Like many sexually confused adolescents, I had fallen in love with my best friend. We were both boys, and I had come to realize my love for him was one of the worst things that could have ever happened. I heard how other guys talked. I knew that liking Mason wasn’t something I could act on.

We’d been about a month into our freshman year when I felt him slipping away from me. He had joined the football team and started hanging out with a bunch of his misogynistic, homophobic, and slightly racist teammates. Most people would say these guys were harmless, but I knew that the longer Mason hung around them, the more influence they’d have over his ideologies. He was being brainwashed! I had to win him back over from the dark side.

Mason wasn’t a hateful person, and I was determined to come out to him before it was too late. I trusted him more than anybody in the whole world; I genuinely believed with every fiber of my being that we’d be able to work through my teeny-tiny crush on him (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the teeniest or the tiniest, and I was a hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him, but I digress). I figured he’d reject me amiably and we could continue our friendship, but unforeseen circumstances had prohibited my confession indefinitely.

We’d been at my house. I had been avoiding coming out to him, as there was always something stopping me. The reasons were always stupid, like the fact there was an X-Men movie marathon coming on TV and we just had to watch it together. Like many high school aged boys, Mason sometimes referred to stuff as gay, in reference to things he considered stupid or slightly feminine. It had gotten way worse since he’d been hanging around his new friends. At one point he said it about some commercial on the TV. I felt that anxious feeling I often got, but this time I didn’t let it stop me.

“Mason, I’m gay,” I’d told him. I blurted it out, really. It wasn’t my finest moment; it wasn’t what I’d practiced a million times in the bathroom mirror.

He looked at me for a while, assessing me, and then he got up and left. With no words of encouragement or disapproval.

October 11, 2008 would forever be ingrained in my mind as the day Mason walked out of my life and never looked back. I’d really thought he was different. I’d really thought that I could tell him about my authentic self. I had never even got to mention the fact that I had a crush on him, which was probably for the best.

He hadn’t been the person I thought he was.

If losing Mason as a friend wasn’t bad enough, I was now still dealing with the repercussions of coming out. It had been three years since then.

Yes, three years of Mason’s new friend group taking every possible opportunity to terrorize me for being gay. They’d beat me up from time to time, throw slurs at me, or make homophobic jokes knowing there was nothing I could do or say to stop them. I didn’t want to make excuses for Mason, because the fact he had been such a terrible friend was inexcusable, but he never directly harassed me like his underlings; he just sort of had dominion over them, which was slightly less awful. Seriously, I think it was worth something that he never beat me up or said anything mean to me (at least not to my face). It was easier to handle his passive attitude in regard to my situation.

Those dumb jocks and future gas station attendants all looked to Mason for approval. He’d become their God—the coolest, the most handsome, the almighty. I bet if he stood up for me at least once, my days at school would go a lot smoother. I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t let go of my idealized version of him. I told myself he didn’t mean what he did or said. I told myself that there was still good in him. Even though it killed me to hear him laugh when his friends called me a fag or a homo, I believed Mason didn’t really think I was disgusting.

I still thought he was attractive. It wasn’t like I was blind. We might not have been best friends anymore, but I lusted after him just the same as I had before. Mason had an olive complexion and it always seemed like he was glowing, like he was an angel or something. Mason’s parents were Greek, having moved to America before he was born. He had this curly brown hair that he took excellent care of now that he was older (when we were younger it was always messy). His eyes were green. His lips were full. He had the most beautiful smile. It was almost the most attractive thing about him.

The most attractive thing about Mason was his butt. He had the best ass I’d ever seen. It’s what I always looked at when I could take a clandestine glance. I had looked at his butt so frequently, I could probably pick it out of a police lineup.

“Yes Officer,” I’d say. “Butt number three is Mason’s. The sheer size of the cheeks makes it obvious, and the dimples on his lower back are also a dead giveaway.”

He was taller than me, and he definitely had to be over six feet by now. I was 5’9” and weighed only about 160 pounds. Mason on the other hand had really buffed up in our years distanced from one another; I would have to guess he was around 200 pounds. He’d been a pudgy kid, but when he joined the football team freshman year, they worked all of his extra weight into muscle. Seeing him change so much really stung, not having gotten the chance to change along with him.

I had to continuously remind myself that none of these things mattered anymore. He could be extraordinarily hot with the best ass in the entire country, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated me for something I couldn’t control. He abandoned a valuable friendship and allowed others to belittle me. My mom had told me growing up, in a somewhat blunt way I’d grown used to, “Not everybody is your friend. Sometimes people can surprise you in the worst ways possible.” I never, and I mean never, thought my mother’s pessimistic wisdom would apply to my relationship with Mason.

We were about two months into senior year, and today in English IV, the last class of the day, I noticed Mason talking to a troll named Bret Phelps. This guy was possibly the worst of the group. The others just called me names, having grown tired of wasting energy beating me up, but he felt compelled to hunt me down and physically assault me every other day. I made my way to my locker as quickly as I could and made a mad dash for my bike.

Today I was going to make it.

I was trying to be positive, which wasn’t always easy. It was a quality I admired in others, so I tried my best to emulate that positivity. I was determined to hold my head up high and to be optimistic. I knew things would one day get better, even if I had to put up with Mason’s posse until graduation.

Today I wasn’t going to get punched anywhere on my body.

I approached the bike rack quickly, wanting to make it off campus unscathed. The closer I got to where the bikes were housed, the more noticeable was the form of a guy leaning casually on an adjoining pillar.

It was Bret. Damn.

He had to have forgone stopping at his locker. He’d come directly here after the bell rang to wait for me. He must have really been in a sour mood if he wanted to catch me so badly.

I had to be strong. Even if I wanted to whine and cry and beg for him to leave me alone, I couldn’t. I refused to give him or any of his asshole friends the satisfaction of breaking me down. I was immune to this. I just had to accept my beating and he’d move on. At first, I fought hard every single time, but he’d still pummel me. That was when I came to realize that if I didn’t show emotion, he’d give me a swift punch in the gut and go about his day. I wasn’t going to give the sadist the pleasure he oh so desired. It wasn’t fun fighting someone who didn’t react.

“Hello Oliver,” he said, smiling. His front tooth was slightly chipped, and I hoped it was from someone punching him in the mouth. “You were like the first one out of class. I hope you didn’t think you were going to miss me today.” He was shorter than Mason but taller than I was. He was a stocky guy, and if I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be willing to admit that he was almost-maybe-possibly attractive.

“Hey Bret,” I said in an even tone, keeping my head down, not making eye contact. “I really have to get going.”

“This isn’t going to take long.”

He walked towards me. I closed my eyes and tensed my ab muscles waiting for him to sock me in the stomach.

“I’ll handle him today.”

It was Mason’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing my abs. Was he going to start beating me up too? I didn’t think I could handle it if he decided he was so disgusted by me that he had to resort to physical violence.

“Yeah, okay Mason,” Bret said, reverting to his beta-male status. “You’ve got to make sure you get him in the gut, just like he likes it.” With that, Bret walked off, glad to be told what to do—but not before punching me in the arm as hard as he could.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my arm as I made my way over to my bike. I kneeled down and began putting in the combo for my bike lock.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, like he’d done me the biggest favor.

I looked up at him from the ground, and he looked like a giant. I felt really nostalgic looking up at him. Mason used to fight people for saying that I was gay. He used to defend my honor like I was a high society lady in a Victorian romance novel. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was a regular human being who made stupid human being decisions. I had to stop romanticizing the present with memories of the past.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Why was he still standing there? I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t have to feel so on edge.

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

Was he being for real? He only ever talked to me in class, and that was if it was mandated by the teacher. Now he was offering me a ride home? I wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but nothing good would come from it. That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be. I did my best to push through the bitter feelings.

“No,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant it to be. I didn’t want to sound upset or anything, but I was struggling to temper out my emotions. “I have my bike.”

This was the first time in a long time I was alone with him. It made me think of that day in October three years ago when everything changed. I hated how this was forcing me to recollect our final moments together as best friends.

“We can put it in the back,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew he was talking about his Jeep, but I still pictured his ass.

I was silent again, and he just smiled at me, like he knew I was going to accept his offer. This was how things had been in elementary school, middle school. He’d always been able to charm me into doing whatever he wanted. Even now as he began to saunter off, expecting me to follow, I couldn’t stop myself from bending to his will.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the student parking lot.

“Yeah okay, sure,” I mumbled, internally berating myself for being so easily swayed by him.

I followed him over to his Jeep. It was an older model, some of the burgundy paint peeling off. The inside smelled like he did; I took multiple deep breaths. He still remembered how to get to my house. The trip was for the most part silent, which gave me time to run scenarios, and they all ended badly, with some terrible prank that would awaken my latent telekinetic powers akin to my homegirl Carrie White.

“Casa de Bailey.”

I felt myself jump slightly, having been lost in my Stephen King fantasies.

“Thanks,” I said, hopping out of the passenger’s side.

I put my bag on and walked towards the rear of the Jeep. I didn’t think he’d get out of the car, but he met me at the back and removed my bike for me. As he set it down on the pavement, I took in how strong his arms looked and how the sleeves of his t-shirt were being eaten by their size. He had biceps. He had triceps. If there were any other muscles in the upper arm, he had those too.

“Can I ask you something?” What could he want to ask me? He’d probably request that I transfer schools so he wouldn’t have to look at his loser ex-best friend anymore.

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, not knowing where this was going and not really wanting to find out. “You can come inside.” I started around back to put away my bike; he followed. I put my bike in the garage and unlocked the back door. I walked up the three steps into the kitchen and offered him something to drink.

“Milk, if you have it.” I poured him a large glass and he began to gulp it down. He was so white, drinking milk like it was actually good. I used to give him such a hard time about it. “Thanks,” he said, wiping away a milk mustache with his forearm.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” I was curious, seeing as we hadn’t really spoken in years.

“Oh yeah,” he said. I took in his thick eyebrows, which were furrowed in seriousness. I wanted to stroke his brows with my fingers, to feel his face in my hands. I bet his skin was soft. He frowned and it made me a little worried.

“What?” I asked. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” I still cared about him and his well-being. Maybe it was idiotic of me to still be so devoted to a person that ignored my sufferings, and maybe I should have ignored Mason in return, but my gut instinct was to be concerned.

“Here’s the thing,” he started, “I’m kind of failing English and I was wondering if you could help me out. Bret and the other guys are barely passing, and you’re so smart, I figured you’d be the best person to tutor me.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“That I’m helping you or that you’re failing English?” I asked, to clarify.

“Both,” he blurted out quickly.

We stood in an awkward silence. I felt my face go hot and was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t want people to know he was even interacting with me. It was kind of degrading, and I needed to have some self-worth and tell him that I had more value than that. That was what I should’ve done, but I was weak, and he was hot.

“Okay,” I said like a dope. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks dude,” he said, a sound of relief in his voice. “You good to meet here after school?”

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Nah, every day. At least until I get my grade up. My parents lost their shit when they got my progress report.” Every day? That was going to take up a lot of time, and I may not have had much else to do, but I couldn’t believe he just imposed his own tutoring schedule on me.

“Yeah,” I said, even more like a dope. “No problem.”

“Well, I have to go,” he said suddenly. I turned to get the milk, ready to offer him another glass of moo juice, but he was gone out of the back door before I could get the words out.

“See you later,” I said aloud to myself, putting the milk back in the fridge.

If I put my self-respect and righteous anger aside, this was fantastic. I’d get to talk to Mason every day. I’d get to look at his gorgeous face and body every day. I’d get to imagine, even though it was ridiculous, that we were still best friends. He had come to me for help. That just proved that there was still a connection between us. Maybe, in his own odd way, Mason was trying to rekindle our friendship.

I had noticed in the previous weeks that he looked bigger than usual. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but being able to look at him without having to avert my eyes confirmed it.

He was growing.

I’d heard he quit the football team. Everyone had heard he’d quit the team. It was the hottest gossip for the entire first month of school. I knew he still exercised, having heard him mention to Bret he worked out with his uncle every night, trying to get into powerlifting. I didn’t know what that entailed, but it sure sounded like something I wanted to see. I was getting an erection just thinking about Mason possibly getting a bit of a belly to go along with the sheer size he was already putting on.

I realized I’d been keeping tabs on him without really meaning to. If his name was brought up, I listened. I was still invested in his life, and this new arrangement was going to potentially put me in a dangerous situation.

The fact he’d be coming over again tomorrow got me feeling nervous. I didn’t want things to feel awkward. I wanted to do something nice for him to show I wasn’t holding a grudge or anything (even if I was still a little pissed at him). All hadn’t been forgiven, but maybe this was the start to an important conversation.

I decided to go shopping for some snacks. He’d always been a big eater, and he’d probably need some brain food if we were to be studying. He liked potato chips and submarine sandwiches.

(“You gotta really pack on the ingredients,” he’d told me when we were younger. “I’m talking about a ridiculous amount of meat and cheese. Oil, mayo, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes.”

I stared in astonishment at the monstrous sandwich he had constructed. It looked big enough to feed three people. This was a sandwich Scooby and Shaggy would excitedly devour.

“You really think you can eat all of that?” I asked.

“You don’t think I can Oli?” he asked, smirking.

“I think you can. You can do anything!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You wanna watch demolish this thing?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling oddly attracted to him in that moment. It was a moment that definitely raised a red flag for me. Why had I been so invested in his display of gluttony?

He finished that entire sub and a bag of family sized chips. His dad came home after a long day of work looking for the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. “Where’s the deli meat?” Mr. Megalos asked in his Greek accent.

“I ate it all, Dad,” Mason replied, not even embarrassed. Mr. Megalos playfully smacked Mason on the back of the head before sending us to the store to buy some more turkey breast. Mason used the change to buy us a package of oatmeal cream pies. Before I even got the chance to have a second one, he’d eaten the rest of them on our walk home.

I was glad that he did.)

The next day at school I really wanted to talk to Mason, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I waited the day out and went to get my bike. Mason, not Bret, was leaning on the pillar near the bike rack.

“Hello,” I said, a little bit uneasy. He probably didn’t want my help anymore. He probably realized he could find someone else to tutor him.

“What’s up, Oli?” he asked, smiling like everything was normal between us. Nobody called me Oli anymore. Just hearing him say my name with a smile on his face was enough to give me the vapors. I felt like flinging myself into his muscled arms, swooning.

“Nothing much.” I smiled back at him nervously. “I’m still meeting you at my house, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked at me seriously. My heart must have skipped a beat. “I told Bret to back off. If he fucks with you again, just let me know. Got it?”

“Ye—yeah,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot.” He was so hot when he was serious. He furrowed his brow in a way that made him look slightly angry. I bet he’d make a similar face while having sex.

“See you soon,” he said, swaggering off towards where his car was parked. I took in his wide back and beefy behind. He didn’t even carry a bookbag; he just had a folder, a couple of notebooks, and the novel we were reading in class. This was probably why he was failing.

I unlocked my bike, mounted it, and rode off towards home. Relief swept over me at the thought of being Bret-free. I continued to pedal and felt myself come alive. I loved riding my bike; I was pretty fit because of it, with muscular thighs and a firm, round ass. My ass was definitely a first runner up to Mason’s glorious cakes. It was nearing the end of October and when it started to snow, I would have to swap my tires for better traction. I thought about Mason on the ride home and what I wanted to do to him. I hated wanting him so badly, but I loved it at the same time. Crushes were so weird that way. It was starting to consume me, yet I didn’t really mind it.

He was sitting on the front steps when I got there.

“Oli,” he said, standing to meet me at the path to the backyard. He had his hand in his shirt, scratching his tummy. He moved his hand away. “Why don’t you have a car?” His voice was getting to me. I missed hearing his voice more than I realized.

“I can’t afford a nice Jeep like you,” I said a little sarcastically. He laughed, catching my slight insult to the Jeep that had once belonged to Mr. Megalos. It was given to Mason for his birthday last year. I remembered Mr. Megalos driving us to elementary school in that thing, so to see Mason driving it now was kind of funny. “You know it’s just me and my mom.”

“You could get a job,” he suggested. “There are lots of cheap cars. I’d help you look for one.” Mason had always liked cars and that sort of thing. His dad and Uncle Galvin owned an auto shop that Mason helped out in. Galvin was the same uncle he’d been working out with.

“I live like eight blocks from the school and I never go anywhere,” I said, feeling more at ease the longer we were around one another. “But if I ever do start looking for a car, I’d hope the offer would still stand.”

“Of course,” he said. “Consider it payment for your services.” I had put my bike away during our conversation. I opened the back door, and we went inside.

“You can go up to my room,” I said. He knew the way.

I walked over to the fridge and looked at the array of supplies I’d picked up yesterday. I’d gone overboard for sure, but I removed the ingredients and placed them on the counter. I bought provolone cheese, turkey breast, and honey roasted ham. I’d even gone so far as to buy hoagie rolls and herb-seasoned submarine oil. I stuffed those hoagie rolls full of meat and cheese and veggies, just like I knew he liked his sandwiches—at least I knew he liked them this way years ago. I cut them in half and placed them on a plate, pouring some original flavored Ruffles in a bowl. I also put half a sleeve of Oreos on a separate plate and poured two glasses of milk.

I carried the tray carefully as I made my way up the stairs to my room. Entering, I saw he was sitting at my desk, holding a photo of us at the beach when we were in the seventh grade. I walked over to him and set the tray down next to him on my desk.

“You still have this?” he asked, smiling. I looked over at the picture in his hand. His arm was around my shoulder and we both smiled wide at the camera. He had always been taller than I was, and this was before he lost his baby fat.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. I felt lame all of a sudden, still holding on to something he probably considered a piece of junk. “Could you please put it down?”

The frame was even more special than the photograph; Mason had made it for me, painting the phrase “Best Buds” in big, sloppy letters on the bottom, seashells and starfish glued all around the rest of the frame. He had burned his fingers so badly using the hot glue gun he wore bandages for a week. I remember how proud he was of his craftsmanship.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. He carefully put the picture frame back in its place before picking up a cookie, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you all tense.”

“I’m not tense,” I said, sounding incredibly tense. He chewed, smirking slightly. I needed to get a grip. I was going to ruin everything if I didn’t chill out. I took a deep breath. “I thought a small snack would help you focus better.”

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

“I just—I remembered you had a big appetite.”

“You remembered right,” he said, reaching for one of the sandwich halves and taking a colossal bite. I felt even more embarrassed. Did he remember anything about me? Did he ever think about me at all?

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“You know Oli,” he started, his mouth half full. “I never stopped eating big, but I’ve definitely kicked it into overdrive since quitting football. If I don’t slow down, I’m gonna get fat again like in that photo.” His free hand absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach. It was like he was toying with me. He took another large bite of the sandwich. “I already eat like garbage, but I started a bulking cycle recently, really pushing myself to put on some mass. I think I’ve already put on ten pounds.” Ten pounds was kind of a lot, seeing as he had quit the football team only a little over a month ago.

“You—you carry the weight well,” I said, aroused. “You don’t look fat to me.” He had finished his first half and grabbed another.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, grabbing his slightly protruding paunch and shaking the small bit of belly he was sporting. “I eat way too much Oli.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, trying not to discourage a habit I wanted him to continue.

“Get this, I ordered two large pizzas from Domino’s the other weekend and finished both of them. It was one of those deals where you save a ton of money if you get the two larges. I’m a sucker for deals like that.”

“Who isn’t?” I asked, watching him alternate between bites of the sandwich and the potato chips.

“When I got to the last slice, I was pissed. I wasn’t even full.”

“Wow Mason,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”

“I was lucky my mom had made two trays of pastitsio the night before.” He lifted his shirt and showed me his belly, feeling the need to prove to me that he was indeed packing on the pounds. He was kind of hairy, and I liked it. He grabbed at his tummy with his strong hands, shaking it again, uncovered. I just wanted to feel his stomach in my own hands. I needed to know what it felt like. “This gut is brought to you by pastitsio, pizza, and protein shakes.”

He left his shirt up as he reached for another portion of the sandwich. I watched from my bed with my legs closed tight, as he bit, chewed, and swallowed, repeating the process until he moved on to the next serving. His large hands made those hefty sandwiches look like dainty finger food at a garden party. He pulled at his t-shirt, covering himself.

“You don’t wanna see that,” he said, laughing, his cheeks reddening slightly. He grabbed a handful of the salty chips and shoved them into his mouth. I imagined his hands grabbing a handful of my ass.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to get through these tutoring sessions. He was pornographic. I was rock hard, my dick straining against my jeans. I was hoping I’d soften up enough before I had to stand. He kept going and going until he was chugging the glasses of milk. Only a couple of cookies remained on the plate.

“How—uh, how much do you weigh?” I asked.

“I don’t really know. You got a scale?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” I said, affirming that I had one.

“Let’s do this,” he said, standing. I wiggled a little before getting up, making sure to minimize the obviousness of the boner in my pants. When I was out of sight, I took the time to tuck my penis into the waistband of my underwear, so it was angled upwards, and the front of my pants was flat. I brought the scale from my bathroom, praying he hadn’t noticed I was still semi-erect.

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

“207 pounds at the pre-season weigh-in back in August,” he said, walking towards where I placed the scale in the middle of my bedroom. I sat on my knees near where the number would be displayed. He stepped on the scale and I glanced at the reading. “What’s the damage?” he asked, standing perfectly still.

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

“Maybe this thing is busted, but it says you weigh 226 pounds.” My dick throbbed as I said it. What was so hot about Mason putting on weight like this? It wasn’t just muscle that turned me on, but also fat. I hoped his bulking cycle never ended.

“Shit,” he said, his tone surprised yet slightly satisfied. “I’m gonna be huge if I don’t start slowing down with all this eating.” I swallowed, hard.

I couldn’t help him study today. I’d get better at putting up with his natural eroticism, but today couldn’t be helped. He needed to leave before I came in my pants. I could feel pre-cum starting to coat the lower half of my stomach.

“I’m not feeling good all of a sudden,” I said. Mason stepped off of the scale. I couldn’t think straight, and I was for sure too turned on to focus.

“Really, why?” he asked.

“Like I just got a headache out of nowhere.” I was going to cum any second. It’d take me five strokes tops with how I was feeling, but I knew I’d want to go again immediately.

“Oh shit,” he said, picking up his stack of materials. “You gonna be okay?”

“I probably just need to take some Tylenol and get a nap in before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the rest of the Oreos. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did I mind? Of course I didn’t mind. I was apparently some sort of freak who wanted him eating constantly. “No, go ahead,” I said. He smiled at me appreciatively before popping one of the cookies in his mouth. I walked him to the door, and we said our goodbyes.

I ran back upstairs and got undressed. I stepped onto the scale, which was still in the middle of my bedroom floor. I weighed myself: 159 pounds.

Mason was 67 pounds bigger than I was. I ran my hand over the shaft of my penis. I gave it one pump, two pumps. Fuck, I was picturing his gut in his hands. Three pumps, Four pumps. He had eaten everything on that tray. I pictured Mason getting bigger and beefier. That’s what did it; I came in thick spurts all over myself.

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

It didn’t get any easier controlling my sexual compulsions when Mason came by for tutoring. It had been two weeks since he first asked for my assistance, and I helped him with his papers and worksheets. We also spent time reading. He was so damn cute. He’d whisper things to himself about what was happening in whatever he was annotating. I had heard him say “no way” or “what” at least once per chapter.

I thought this stuff was all really easy, and I was shocked at how he let his grade fall so low in less than two months of school. He must not have done any type of work for this class until now. I considered the fact that he had a social life and lots of friends to distract him from school. I, on the other hand, spent my free time making flashcards and watching reruns of Chopped and Good Eats. Mason had always been the largest component of my social life, so when he went away, so did any potential high school social plans.

Each study visit I always had a tray with different types of snacks. I kept in mind that Mason was a big eater, and the portions remained hearty and plentiful. It was a Friday study session with an essay due on Monday.

“I’m just going to have to come back tomorrow, maybe even Sunday.” He laughed. “I’m totally hopeless.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, being stereotypically positive. “I think you’re doing great. Did you ask Mr. Gonzalez what your grade was?” He asked every Friday.

“D-plus,” he said with his typical furrowed brow. He sighed and began tossing books into his bag (which I told him he needed to start carrying). I stood silent for a moment, contemplating what I should say. “If he wasn’t such a dick and took late work, I wouldn’t have to stress so hard over this.” I wanted to make him feel like the work he was doing was valuable. I saw that he was improving; I just wished he could see it too.

“You’ve got to think about it like you’re lifting weights, you know? You could barely lift anything at the start, but with hard work and dedication you can lift things you never thought possible. You had a thirty percent two weeks ago, and you’re telling me you’ve been able to get that up over a sixty-five? Just imagine where you’ll be in just one more week, a month from now, even. You’ll have the buffest, strongest grade ever.”

“You think so?” he mused. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered what I had just said. He smiled. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Oliver.”

He lifted his hulking frame out of my desk chair and strode over to where I stood. He wrapped me in his beefy arms and gave me a bear hug. I could feel my entire body tingle in pleasure as I felt Mason for the first time in forever. I didn’t dare ruin it by trying to hug him back. My hands at my side, I could feel his warmth, I could smell the chips he ate and the aftershave he wore. They mixed together in a scent that was uniquely Mason. His arms were so solid, as was his slight gut. It was so brief, but it made me the happiest guy in the world. “You have always been the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks—thanks a lot.” He let me go and grabbed his bag. “Do you think you might want something more substantial to eat tomorrow or just a snack? I could definitely make you a meal if you wanted.”

I was doing way too much. The snacks were one thing, completely hospitable, but now I was offering to make him dinner? Did Bret do things like this for him? His other football friends? I was not being very hetero.

“Really?” he asked, shockingly excited. “Do you remember in sixth grade when you wanted to be a chef?” I spent that entire year working through a kid-friendly cookbook. I even started going off-script, coming up with some of my own recipes (though they were just derivative of other things I’d learned from the cookbook). I doubted Mason knew he was the reason I wanted to learn how to cook.

“Yeah,” I said. “I cooked a different recipe every day for like nine months. You ate dinner at our house every other day before eating the dinner your mom made.” He laughed at the memory.

“I gained like twenty pounds during that,” he started, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. You’re the reason I was able to grow up big and strong.” He rubbed his gut absent-mindedly. He was always doing that, and it drove me damn near insane.

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” he said. We began walking down the stairs towards the front door. We continued planning for the following evening of studying. “I want that chicken and cheese thing you made. Now that was delicious.”

“I could do that.”

“How’s seven for you?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad in the shop for a bit and then I’m gonna go lift with Uncle Galvin.”

“That works for me,” I said. “Sounds like you’ll be hungry.”

“Hell yeah,” he replied enthusiastically. “Night Oli.”

“Goodnight Mason,” I said, closing the door behind him.

What was my life? Just like every night after he left, I had to take some time to masturbate. When I finished, I saw it was almost ten. My mom would be back soon. I’d watch whatever was on the Food Network and think about seeing Mason again until she got home.

As happy as I was, I couldn’t help serving myself a much-needed reality check. I wanted to believe that things were going great. We were spending lots of time together and vibing really well. He actually remembered the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. But we still didn’t speak to one another at school. It was like our relationship existed solely in my bedroom. How well could things be going for me if I was just the gay nerd who overfed him and made sure he didn’t fail English?

I woke up around six the next morning. I was definitely an early bird, getting that worm and whatnot. I took a quick shower and styled my hair. It was thick and black. I used a coconut oil cream to make it curl. It was kind of short, only about three or four inches long, but I thought it looked pretty decent. I had brown eyes and brown skin. My complexion was the color of a caramel hard candy. Both of my parents were black. My dad’s parents were from the South. My mom’s mother was from Jamaica and her dad was from Philadelphia.

I grabbed the basket for my bike and sent my mom a text. She wouldn’t be up until around eleven, and even after that she’d be out of the house running errands before work. I was going to the store for the ingredients in my dish.

It wasn’t that long of a bike ride to the grocery store, and I’d been making the trip more frequently since I decided Mason needed to be catered to with each visit. I shopped for a while, budgeting things out, and choosing other side dishes. I got everything on my list and remembered I wanted to pick up some ice cream for after dinner. I was going to get a pint of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion. It used to be Mason’s favorite flavor, and I was willing to bet he still loved it.

I turned back and made my way to the frozen food section. It was near where they kept the eggs and milk and cheese. I noticed Bret with some serious bed head grabbing a gallon of 2%. I snatched the ice cream from the freezer and ran for the checkout, praying he hadn’t seen me. I wanted to hurry the cashier along, but she was a kind older woman who had always been nice to me.

“You sure do grocery shop a lot,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a little thing, but you eat so much. But that’s how young men are. Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.”

I conversed with her, trying my best not to appear rude, but I really didn’t need to encounter Bret on the weekend. I paid for my stuff and left the store. I went and unlocked my bike, setting it upright so I could put the groceries in the basket.

Before I could take off, I felt someone grab the hood of my hoodie. I fell backwards, my bike falling to the ground. The food rolled out onto the sidewalk.

I looked up from the pavement at Bret smirking down at me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Jackson High football sweatshirt. I normally would have just taken whatever beating he had for me, but I was fed up. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was going to make Mason his food and he’d compliment me, and I could live in my delusions for just a little while longer.

I got to my knees before standing straight up. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he stumbled back slightly. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I shouted, kind of embarrassed by how high my voice got.

“Oh, it’s on, you fag,” Bret spat at me. He set the jug of milk he’d been carrying on the sidewalk. “I’m sick of looking at you and your pink fag bike.”

“My bike is red,” I shouted. I didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea what I should do next. We looked at one another intensely.

“Red,” he said as he drew me closer to his body, yanking on my hoodie. “Or pink,” he continued. Punch in the stomach. “You’re still a fucking homo.” Punch. Punch in the mouth. Punch. Punch in the nose. Punch in the cheekbone. Punch. Another punch in the gut. I was panting as he threw me to the ground. I thought I was going to barf.

“Fuck—you—,” I managed to get out, catching my breath. I had gotten used to my one punch in the stomach a day. This was taking me back to sophomore year when our altercations left me with a new bruise every day. He didn’t seem phased by what I said, just continuing to smirk at me.

“I sure am glad I drank the last of the milk now.” He laughed, stooping to grab his milk, and walked over to his Dodge Charger.

I gathered the scattered items and checked to make sure they were all okay. They were. I put everything back in the basket. I took a few deep breaths before mounting my bike. I rode home and took another shower.

I didn’t want to dwell on the experiences of the morning. I put on some music and spent the rest of the time before I had to start cooking doing laundry and other chores around the house. One beating didn’t mean the world had to stop moving. This was nothing new.

I started cooking around five-thirty, so it would be ready when Mason got here. About five minutes after seven the doorbell rang.

“Hey Mason,” I said, happy to see him. I smiled a little too wide and felt my lip begin to bleed again. It was only a little. I licked the blood away.

“What the fuck Oli?”

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I got beat up all the time. This really was not a big deal. After high school I would never have to deal with this sort of thing ever again.

“You look like shit,” he said angrily. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“You’ve seen me like this before. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said, eyebrows furious. “Who was it? Who did this? I swear to God if you say Bret after I told him not to touch you anymore.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to make this into a whole thing. I had spent the entire day trying to forget about it so that we could have a good time eating and studying together. I wanted him to just leave it alone. I wanted him to stop pretending like he actually cared about what happened. I’d been getting my ass kicked for over three years and he’d never so much as batted an eye.

“Oliver,” he pushed.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s just go and eat.” I walked away from the front door towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow. That was when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him. We stood there for a moment. His strong, masculine hands held my upper arms firmly. He looked at my bruised cheek, my busted lip. He brought his mouth to my forehead and kissed it softly. It felt like we were standing there for hours but it couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds. “Mason—.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said.

He let go of my arms and hesitated a moment before running out to his Jeep and driving off. Had he really just kissed me? I couldn’t believe it. I was pretty sure there was lip to forehead action.

After that Mason never called or texted me, and he didn’t show up to school on Monday. I managed to avoid Bret after school and decided to take Mason his homework. He really hadn’t missed all that much, but I really wanted to see what that kiss was about. I also wondered if he worked on the essay for English class at all. I hadn’t been busting my ass for him to start failing again. It was a longer bike ride, but I made it to his place in about twenty minutes. I rang the doorbell and Mason’s kid sister Agatha answered the door.

“Oliver! Oliver! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down before reaching out for a hug.

“Hey Aggy,” I replied, embracing her. She was thirteen now. I was eighteen, my birthday at the end of September, but Mason was nineteen. His birthday was in July. It was a secret I swore to take to the grave. It was the reason why he never invited classmates to his birthday parties growing up. When he told me about why, it was like something out of a Roald Dahl novel. It was like he was Matilda or something. Mr. and Mrs. Megalos had been remarkably busy helping members of their family immigrate, starting their auto repair business, and welcoming Aggy into the world. They straight up forgot to register him for school. They waited so long that the district said he’d have to wait for the following school year. Mason never told anyone how old he was. He didn’t want people to think he failed a grade. He also didn’t want people to think he had bad parents.

“I missed you so much,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll have to catch up soon, but is Mason home?”

“He’s sick,” she said with a pair of air quotes. “I know he’s lying. Sick people don’t eat as much as he does. You can go upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I made my way upstairs, shocked by how little had changed in their house in three years. I stood outside Mason’s door, nervous about having to discuss what happened on Saturday. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he wanted to pretend it never happened at all? It was now or never. I opened the door to his room. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I’d forgotten to knock. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

“Ah!” Mason yelped, looking over at me in his doorway.

He was naked, but that wasn’t the most outrageous part. There were a ton of reasons why he could be naked and alone in his room. This was his house after all. But he knelt at the side of his bed, dick in hand and a sex toy in his ass. It was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen in person, but still a major shock. His ass was just made to take phallic objects. There was so much of him to take in, from the powerful arms to the beefy ass to the bloated gut. I was frozen, staring at his dick and then the sex toy he’d removed from his asshole. He tossed it in a shoe box and shoved it under his bed.

“Oliver, close the door!” he said hurriedly. I turned around and closed the door quickly. He probably wanted me on the other side of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door,” he mumbled. “Fuck.”

“Mason, look, I’m really, uh—really sorry,” I said, turning back around and staring at him as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. All I could think about was how big his butt was. He probably did a ton of squats. His legs were hairy, as were his forearms and chest. I could tell his sessions in the gym were paying off, seeing as everything about him was getting absolutely massive. But man, his gut had really grown. He was getting fat. Fatter than when he showed me his belly the first time. He must have been eating constantly. The after-school snacks I prepared for him couldn’t have been pumping him up this much. I knew he said he was bulking, but did he mean to be getting so large?

“I brought your homework,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I should probably go.” What was going on? He was into butt stuff? Was he gay? I’d heard that some straight guys were into anal. They’d have their wives and girlfriends peg them with strap-ons. I couldn’t process this right now with him in front of me. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called. “Can I have the work?” How was he so calm? I took off my bag and pulled out the folder where I’d put all the materials he’d need. I stood there, folder in hand, unable to walk towards him. He walked over to me, his dick still semi-erect bobbing freely in the basketball shorts. His thighs were like tree trunks. His chest was broad, and his nipples were slightly bigger than I’d seen on other guys, kind of puffy. Overall, he was looking much fleshier. I needed to focus.

“Sorry,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. I handed him the folder with the assignments. He reached out to grab them and I took in his mammoth forearms. Mason was a man. He wasn’t my chubby best friend from elementary school anymore. “I didn’t come in on purpose. I swear.”

He had kissed me on Saturday. I remembered my real reason for coming over. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up now. I had to let it go. He was just some conflicted straight boy who’d put this and any other gay feelings behind him. He’d marry some girl, have some kids, and she’d peg him well into old age. Me and this whole situation would become a distant memory.

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

“Mason, what’re—?” I didn’t know why I came here. I should have just ignored it. He dropped the folder on the ground and pulled me closer to himself.

“I haven’t been honest with myself,” he whispered, looking at me seriously. “Or with you.” I swallowed. He kissed me—on the lips this time. I felt them for the first time on my own lips. This was authentic lip to lip action. I wanted to grab his ass. I wanted to touch his belly. I wanted everything with Mason, but something was stopping me. He pulled away and looked at me again. “I think—I think that I’ve always wanted this.”

He was waiting on me to say something, and I could tell he started to worry. As much as my body ached for him, my mind was conflicted.

“I should go,” I whispered softly, afraid of how’d he’d react to this rejection. It was clear I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He just took a step back, his lower lip trembling like he was about to cry. I was an idiot. I left his room, closing his door behind me. I was moving pretty quickly now, needing to put as much distance between us as possible so I could clear my head.

“Later Aggy!” I called, opening their front door. I was on my bike and out on the street in a matter of seconds. I pedaled hard, so hard I could feel the burn in my legs.

I made my way home and into my room. I wouldn’t be able to think with the erection I had. I was rock hard the entire bike ride home. I had always been an avid masturbator, but recently it had gotten out of hand.

When I finished, I tried to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t as simple as Mason and I being able to fool around. Where were things going to go now? Would he come out? Would he want to date me? If Mason just wanted to experiment with me, I couldn’t do it, even if part of me wanted to be used by him. I’d spent the last three years allowing myself to be mistreated, and I was not ready to swap one form of degradation for another.

I finished my homework in a daze, not too sure of what I actually completed. I went to bed feeling absolutely miserable.

The next day, I avoided Mason like the plague. I felt wrong, like he really had been sick, and he was making a huge mistake. I went the whole day avoiding him. I didn’t even look in his direction, so I had no idea if he was looking in mine. After school I made my way to my bike. I had to get home. I just needed to be alone to think some more. I set down my bag and started to put in the combo for my bike lock.

I fell forward.

Someone had kicked me in the back as I was kneeling. I turned and saw that it was Bret. Of course it was Bret. He wasn’t alone today. Standing slightly behind him were these other football guys named Bill and Zeke. I wished my eyes were deceiving me, but Mason was there too, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I tried to finish unlocking my bike, but Bret kicked me again and I fell forward once more. I looked up at Mason, the giant I had idealized for so long. He looked away. Bret said something obscene, but I was too intensely focused on Mason to catch exactly what was said. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I hated Mason.

I stood up after finally getting my bike unlocked. I mounted it and tried to ride off. I was stopped and pushed over. I wondered why no teachers or staff members tried to intervene. There had to be at least one nearby. I had ripped my jeans when I hit the pavement. I tried to get up. They were all calling me names and laughing. Mason stood silent, their all-powerful leader.

I tried to ride off again and this time I got away. I was crying, but I was too far away from them to see me. I felt like I was nothing, an empty shell peddling home. Mason was—I didn’t know what he was. I didn’t know who he was anymore. We had gone down two completely different paths, and I had thought they were meeting back up. It was stupid of me to believe that. Our paths were only going to continue diverging.

I went around back and put my bike away before going inside to think about Mason some more. The way he looked away when I needed him had me seething. I pulled off my sneakers and the ripped pair of jeans. I hadn’t cut my knee at all, so that was something to be happy about. The doorbell rang. I sat on the sofa hoping they would go away. The bell kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

They weren’t going away. I was reaching my boiling point. I just needed to be alone, at least for an hour or so. I ran to the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Can I help you—?” I asked, before registering who had been ringing the doorbell.

“Hey.” It was Mason. “Can I talk to you, please?” He looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of black briefs. I didn’t even care. I was still livid.

“What?” I asked harshly. “Did you come to beat me up too? I could have sworn you made the first move yesterday. But if you find it appropriate to pin all faggish activity on me I’m willing to carry the burden.”

“I’m so sorry, Oli.” I felt myself weaken. No. I needed to remain strong. His eyebrows were furrowed; his eyes were sad. Those sad, green eyes had gotten their way numerous times when we were younger.

“Okay, I accept your apology.” I began to close the door. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” he called, using his weight to keep the door open. “I’m not finished. Can I come in?”

“No,” I said, trying my best to stand my ground. “I hope you fail English. I hope I never have to look at your stupid face ever again.”

“Oli,” he pleaded. He looked at me again with those sorrowful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but then I moved out of the way so he could enter the house. He brought his beefy frame through the door.

“I’ve got to know,” he started, blushing. “Why did you run out yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, when I was, you know—uh masturbating.” I stood silent, unsure of what to say or what he wanted to hear. I really wasn’t too sure what his angle was anymore. Did that incident mean something to him or not? “Is it because you don’t like how I look? I know I’ve gained some weight. I’m just trying to get some more size, and I’ll lose the extra padding eventually. I’ll start losing it right now if that’s what it takes for you to be attracted to me.”

“Your appearance has absolutely nothing to do with why I left yesterday,” I said honestly. He really thought that was the only reason I left? Had he not considered the entire situation? The last three years of our lives?

“It doesn’t?” he asked, taken aback. “Well, I’m not sure but I think I might be—you know, gay. And—and I have all these feelings for you. Hanging out with you again has only helped me confirm what I knew all along. I missed my best friend, Oliver.”

“Mason—,” I started before he cut me off.

“I’m probably not even your type. That’s so fucking pretentious of me to assume you even think I’m attractive.”

“Mason, listen,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I always believed you didn’t mean to hurt me. I held out hope that we could at least one day be friends again. But the thing that happened Saturday, and then walking in on you yesterday. It just made me angry.”

He was still looking at me seriously, taking in everything I was saying, really trying to hear me out.

“Angry that you felt you couldn’t have talked to me sooner. Angry that you thought we could just sort of hook up? I don’t really know what you thought, but it doesn’t feel like you even tried to think about me at all.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, his eyes watering. “I fucked up. I’m a pussy. I’m sorry Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t take it, looking at him with tears streaming down his face. I’d never seen such a big man cry before, and it made me feel like I needed to give him a hug. But if I didn’t stand up for myself now, I’d always be walked all over.

“When you asked me to help you with your English work do you remember what you said to me?” He shook his head no. “You told me that you didn’t want people to know you were associating with me. I felt so worthless, but I did it anyway because—because you’re still one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’ll never make you feel worthless ever again,” he said, his voice serious and honest. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance.”

I crossed my arms, considering what he said. I believed him. I was scared that I believed him. What if I trusted him and got hurt even worse than before?

“I want us to be together,” he said, sniffling. “Being with you makes me feel good, and I want to feel good all the time.”

“I—I think that I want to be with you too,” I said, looking away from him, unsure of if it was a good idea to relent so easily.

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

It was building up inside of me, the love I had for him, the confession that had been left unsaid years ago. I felt it coming out, like word vomit.

“I love everything about you,” I started, still unable to look at him, “the way your eyebrows do that thing and the way you eat and don’t stop. And if you like bulking and powerlifting I don’t mind that. I think you look amazing and—and, I don’t know, Mason, if you gained more weight, I would still be attracted to you. Get as big as you want, really.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Oliver. You’re probably one of the best-looking guys in school and you’re attracted to me? Girls hate that you’re gay.” He took a deep breath. “I have never felt the same about girls that I do about you. I think about you every day.”

“I’m not kidding,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re hot and—and I would even want you to get bigger. I don’t know how to explain it, but the fact that you’re getting bigger makes me really—you know.” I felt like such a weirdo. So much was happening all at once. “I’ve never thought you’ve looked so good.” It felt like the time I told him I was gay. I wondered if he’d just walk out like he had then.

“You’d be okay with me being bigger? For real?” he asked. I felt a slight amount of relief. He hadn’t walked out.

“Yes,” I said, my body tense with nerves. “I would.”

“I like this, being bigger. I always have,” he said. It was silent for a moment. “I want to be bigger. I want to get stronger. This size is something I would’ve never gotten if I kept playing football.” He laughed nervously.

“What?” I asked.

“You sure you’re okay being seen with some big monster?”

“I don’t think you could ever be a monster.” He walked towards me and kissed me so fast I almost fell over. He was huge, like a big teddy bear, and I loved it. I really did, a hundred percent. He laughed, kissing me through the tears on his face. He held me close to him, my dick pressing against him through my underwear.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I guess you’re my boyfriend,” he said seriously. “If you’re okay with that.”

My whole body felt intensely warm. It was like I was in a dream. Maybe I was. Maybe I’d crashed my bike on my way home and I was in a coma, my consciousness somewhere between earth and the great beyond.

Something weighed heavily on me and I was afraid to bring it up. I wanted to squeal with joy and cry tears of relief, but I had to make sure we were on the same page. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone.

I was quiet, not sure how to ask Mason what was on my mind. I think he hated when I got all silent like this. He was a much more direct sort of person.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s just—am I, uh—is this a secret?”

“No,” he said, eyebrows serious. “I hate you even had to consider that. You’re never going to be a secret in my life ever again.”

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

The next day in school Mason talked to me in every class. He sat with me at lunch. He stopped at my locker with me. He was trying very hard to prove to me that he was serious. He meant what he said about making it up to me for the last three years.

“Mason, what the fuck is your problem?” Bret asked disgustedly. “This whole day you’ve been acting weird.” Bret looked over at me, obviously insinuating that I was what was weird. English class had just ended, and Mason was going to give me a ride home, and not because he wanted something from me, just because he wanted to be around me. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked, feigning ignorance.

“The fag, Mason. The fag.” Bret spat the word fag like it was a disease.

“I don’t think you should use that word anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you using that word or making jokes or putting your hands on Oliver ever again. You or anybody else, so spread the word.”

“Are you in love with him or something?” Bret asked, trying to get a rise out of Mason.

“I might be, yeah,” Mason replied seriously. Bret’s eyes widened before he began to laugh hysterically. “We’re dating.”

“Mason, you are hilarious.” Mason leaned over towards me. He brought his face incredibly close to mine before he touched my lips softly with his own, kissing me. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too intense, but it made me feel exposed. I’d barely kissed anyone before and never in public. “You’re taking it too far dude. That was gay as hell.”

“Probably because I’m gay.”

“You’re—you’re not joking? You’re a fag too?”

“Yep,” Mason said, wrapping his beefy arm around me. “And watch your language, dude. There’s only so many times I’m going to tell you.”

Bret ran off, probably to go tell someone. By tomorrow every single person in the school would know. I wondered what people would say. I hoped Mason would be all right. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest decision.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, still thinking about him kissing me in front of Bret.

“It’s not like you’re my secret boyfriend.” He smiled and I melted.

He took me home and we went inside. We were going to study and hang out for a while. He told me that he wanted to spend so much time together that I’d get sick of him. I told him that’d never happen. And he said that meant we’d just be stuck with each other. We were in the second week of November, and the weather had cooled considerably. I volunteered to make hot chocolate and he happily accepted my offer. I also provided a plate of chocolate chip cookies I’d made the night before.

“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the drink. He sipped it carefully, making sure to collect the mini marshmallows. He must’ve gotten too excited because some of it spilled onto his lap. He stood quickly.

“Aw shit,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to grab some paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of pissed I wasted some of my hot chocolate.” I laughed at his serious expression, telling him that I was more than willing to make him another mugful. We sopped up the bulk of the liquid with the paper towels, but he let me know he didn’t like the moist feeling.

“I don’t want it to soak into my underwear.”

He popped open the button of his jeans with a sigh of relief. He pulled them down and stood in my kitchen in a pair of navy boxer briefs. “I’ve got to get some new jeans.” He sure wasn’t modest. I was getting hard looking at his big hairy thighs. He could crush someone’s skull with those things. I kind of wanted my skull crushed.

“I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you,” I said, still staring at his legs. “Maybe a pair of basketball shorts.”

“I’m good like this if you don’t mind,” he said, standing before me like a Grecian statue.

“No way. I don’t think I can control myself looking at you with your legs out like that.” He laughed, jokingly telling me that I was weird.

“They’re just legs,” he said, grinning at me. He’d always loved showing off, and I had always been a willing observer. “And who says you need to control yourself?”

“It’s not just your legs,” I said, getting excited. “It’s your ass. I’ve been looking at your butt for years.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder back at me. The fabric of his underwear separated each cheek, making his ass look even juicer. I wanted to take a bite out of it, my mouth watering at the sight of how much weight he was carrying back there. “If you’ve been checking it out for years, how’s it looking nowadays?”

“Phenomenal,” I said, zoning out. I was completely mesmerized. There was nothing that could break me out of this trance.

“You can grab it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn’t know if what he said was okay. Was he testing my attraction to him? Who wouldn’t want to squeeze his meaty ass? I walked closer to where he stood, my hands cupping the ass I’d only ever dreamed of touching since I knew I liked men. I jiggled it slightly, impressed by how I could still feel the muscle underneath its fatty outer layer.

“It definitely feels bigger than I thought it would,” I said, still touching him.

“I do a lot of squats,” he said, laughing apprehensively. “I think it’s gotten bigger these last couple of weeks. Working out with my uncle and eating like I do has changed my body faster than I thought it would.”

He turned around, and I noticed he was hard. He looked down at his penis straining against his boxer briefs and then away from me, biting his lower lip nervously. I bet his muscle-gut blocked some of his lower half from sight. How long would it be before he wouldn’t be able to see his dick when he looked down?

It was nice that he physically reacted to me feeling him up, but was he expecting something more? Would he want to bottom? Was he prepared for that today? I had wondered when things would become more sexual between us. We’d known each other for so long, but not as sexual beings with lots of sexual urges.

I turned away from him, walking towards the freezer. I couldn’t take the awkwardness. I grabbed the ice cream from a few weeks ago that he never got to eat.

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I grabbed a spoon, handing it to him along with the pint of ice cream. The little container in his large hand was really cute. He peeled off the lid and dug into the dessert greedily. This probably wasn’t enough ice cream to satiate him. He walked casually over towards a counter, pressing his butt up against it. He leaned back and ate spoonful after spoonful. He licked the spoon slowly after each mouthful.

Was he putting on a show for me? Like when we were younger?

“That was good,” he said after less than ten minutes of eating. A now empty container sat on the counter next to him. He gave a satisfied belch and put his hands on his slightly bloated middle.

“You really know how to eat,” I observed.

“It’s probably weird,” he started, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, making sure not to meet my gaze, “but it kind of turns me on sometimes.”

“It’s not weird.”

I made my way to where he stood against the counter, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his middle. We both stood there, silently aroused. I could hear his breathing—in and out, in and out. I lifted his t-shirt. He rested his hand on my shoulder as I massaged his gut. He gave a satisfied moan that made my dick twitch.

“This feels really good.”

“It does?” I asked. I was on cloud nine, finally getting my hands on his gut after fixating over it for weeks. I could see he was getting hard, and I couldn’t believe he happened to be on the same wavelength as I was. I knew he said he liked being bigger, but I didn’t realize he liked it in this way.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he whispered breathily, closing his eyes. He leaned his head back and grinned, unable to suppress the expression.

I was feeling bold, wanting to take further control of his pleasure. He could be in charge of everything else in our lives, but in this moment, I knew I was the one who could call the shots. I slid one of my hands down under his gut, sliding it into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to get his consent before I continued.

He just moaned again, whimpering as my hand wrapped around his erection.

“Tell me you want me to do this,” I commanded.

“I want it, Oliver,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his boxer briefs, so I had easier access to his penis. It was above average size and thick, but I was bigger and for some reason that really turned me on. I stroked him gently, enjoying how it pulsated in my hand. I noticed he relaxed his stomach muscles and his gut pushed forward some more. I looked up at his face and he looked back, his eyes glazed over. Fuck, was that a hot expression.

I stopped for a second, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my own dick. I stroked us both off, moving nice and slow. With both of my hands now occupied elsewhere, Mason took it upon himself to massage his stomach.

“That belly is looking real good,” I said, watching his expression carefully. He looked—pleased! His eyes were closed, but he got that grin on his face again. He grabbed his gut by the sides and gave it a shake.

He was close and I could tell. Seeing him so aroused was turning me on more than I thought possible. I was going to push him over the edge.

“Fuck Mason, I can only imagine how big your gut is gonna be a few months from now.”

It was a risk, but it paid off. He shot a huge stream of cum across the kitchen floor. He looked at me now, his eyes still had that glazed-over look and he fell to his knees. He grabbed at my jeans, pulling them down along with my underwear.

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

He licked the head of my penis holding the shaft in his somewhat rough hand. His mouth was warm, and he worked my dick with unexpected finesse. Looking down at the top of his head, I took in his curly brown hair. I couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was on his knees giving me head. I also couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was Mason of all people.

“Mase, I’m coming.” He removed my dick from his mouth, and I felt cum erupt from inside of me so forcefully I got lightheaded. It wasn’t until I was completely finished that I was able to take in what had occurred. Mason was still on his knees, his face covered in my cum. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t seem like everything was okay. He got off of his knees, pulling up his underwear. We cleaned up in silence. He got my cum off his face, and I got his cum off the floor. He was the one who broke the silence. “That was weird.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “What was with that stuff you were saying?”

“Did you not like that?” I asked, feeling less confident than I had been during our sexual encounter. Things were shifting back into their regular alignment. Me being awkward. Mason being intimidating.

“I just—when we talked about me being bigger, you didn’t just mean muscles, did you?”

“I—I, uh, there’s nothing wrong with being bigger.”

“Were you just saying that because you figured out that’s what I’m into?” he asked. “You don’t have to, like, force yourself to be attracted to me like this.”

“Mason,” I started, “I think it’s more than obvious we like the same thing. I don’t know how we lucked out like this, but that gut you’ve got is definitely sexy.” He just laughed.

“Oli, c’mon,” he said. “You’re legit gorgeous. You could be an underwear model or something, I mean, damn, your quads are amazing.” I laughed. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and pulled me forward. He rested his masculine hands on my ass, like I had always wanted. “And this bubble butt is something else.”

“I’ve got to know Mason. When did you start thinking you might be gay?”

“The day you told me,” he said. I pushed myself away from his solid body.

“What?”

“Yeah, you coming out to me was really confusing. And I figured I should avoid you for a little while to figure things out—I didn’t think it’d be three years though, sorry.”

I just laughed. We’d missed out on years together. There really was nothing to do but find the humor in the situation, because otherwise it would be too sad to think about.

“I started watching gay porn freshman year and I bought that sex toy about a year ago.”

“You’re something else,” I said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

He smiled and it just felt like it got easier to breathe. I ended up making him another mug of hot chocolate before throwing his jeans in the washing machine. Being domestic with him was turning me on, but then again, anything involving Mason was a turn on. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Mason and I would keep talking and figuring things out about this relationship. We had time. We finally had time.

Christmas break came after what felt like an eternity. Of course, people were talking about me and Mason. We could hear their not-so-whispered remarks every single day. He ignored it and held my hand through it all, which really meant a lot to me. He was an incredible person.

Mason had been so liked by everyone, that it was odd to see his old friends ignore him or mumble fucked-up things under their breath when he was nearby. I didn’t know how he could take it, falling so far from the graces of the popular crowd. I had always been on the outskirts, so I couldn’t really understand what he was going through.

We’d made it through Thanksgiving unscathed. It was a little sad we couldn’t spend the holiday together, but Mason hadn’t come out to his family and I hadn’t told my mom we were dating. He’d pushed himself incredibly hard these last couple of weeks, so if he wanted to ease into telling his parents, I wasn’t going to complain.

But that tranquility Mason was experiencing at home was short lived. If the entire high school knew Mason was gay, there was only a matter of time before word got back to people’s parents. Those parents talked to other parents, and those parents talked to Mason’s parents.

The first night of break, Mason was confronted by his father about what he’d heard from a customer in his auto shop. I hated the look on Mason’s face when he told me this story. It was heartbreaking. It felt like it was all my fault.

Mason’s dad threw him out. Mr. Megalos took him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door. Well, he grabbed his collar, yes, and likely pulled him by it, but I doubted he could actually lift Mason to throw him anywhere. His mom let him back in of course, but he packed a bag and left. He’d shown up on my doorstep a little before midnight. It was obvious he’d been crying.

“They found out,” he said. And I knew. I knew his heart was probably in a million pieces.

“Oliver, who is at the door?” My mother walked into the foyer, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe. She’d gotten in from work about an hour ago and had just finished with some self-care. I was glad she’d just taken a bath, because I needed her to be in a good mood.

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

“Well look at that,” she said, taking him in for the first time in three years. “What has Katerina been feeding you?” Mason gave a half-hearted laugh, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the house.

“It’s, uh, good to see you Ms. Bailey.”

“Mason, you can go up to my room while I talk to my mom.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at this, watching as Mason walked towards the rear of the house where the stairs were. That was when the begging began. She had me on my knees.

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

“Mom,” I pleaded, my voice somewhat whiny. “He needs this. He’s my best friend. Please.” She laughed, and I knew it was because she didn’t consider Mason to be my best friend anymore. I hadn’t mentioned him in years; the last time she’d brought him up, I blew up at her.

(“Oliver, sweetheart, you don’t want to invite Mason to celebrate your birthday with us?” I was turning sixteen and I hadn’t talked to Mason in nearly eleven months.

She knew something had been off between us, as Mason hadn’t been to our house since I came out to him.

“It’s just another day,” I replied, feeling especially mopey. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

“I could call Katerina,” she suggested. “If you boys had a falling out, we can get things back on track. He’s been your best friend since first grade.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t know how to navigate how I was feeling. There was just so much shame and sadness that I hadn’t really taken the time to unpack.

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. “We aren’t friends anymore, okay? It was my fault. There’s no way to fix it, so can you please just drop it?” I stormed off to my bedroom after that. I spent the rest of my sixteenth birthday alone crying in my bedroom. It was definitely a low. I knew the only reason my mom didn’t come after me was because it was my birthday. If it were any other day and I spoke to her like that, I’d probably be dead.)

“Oliver, we just can’t. You need to let his family work out whatever problem they’re dealing with.”

“Mom, if—if he can’t stay, I’ll leave with him,” I said, being dramatic.

“No, you won’t,” she replied, laughing. She was calling my bluff.

“I will,” I said, trying my best to win her over. “We’ll wander the streets, sleep in his Jeep. I might even have to become a prostitute to scrape by. We’ll drop out of high school. Do some drugs. Is that what you want Mom? I really don’t think it is.” I sounded like I was describing the plot of some made-for-TV movie.

“Oliver,” my mother said with a theatrical groan, massaging her temples. She obviously wanted to laugh at my monologue, which I knew would play into my favor. “If Katerina and Adrian come to take him home, we aren’t going to fight them on it, do you understand?”

She smiled at me gently. She was legit the best mother in the entire world. She probably only relented because she had just gotten in from work (and she’d had her bubble bath and a glass of wine). She worked as a nurse during a shift that went from three until ten-thirty, and that was when the hospital didn’t ask her to come in early or stay late.

“Yes, thank you!” I actually jumped for joy, clasping my hands together in gratitude. “You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “He needs to sleep in your room because I don’t want him on my sofa. We just got that thing last year and the way he’s looking, it’d be sunken in within the month.”

I just laughed, promising Mason would not be allowed anywhere near her sofa. She likely assumed Mason was not gay. I knew right away that Mason had been outed to his family, but I didn’t make that information privy to my mother. When explaining why he needed to stay with us, I just sort of said his dad was mad about him quitting the football team and putting on some weight. I had been planning on telling her we were dating, but it was probably a good thing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure he won’t mind the floor for a little while.”

“Goodnight Oliver,” she said, walking towards where her bedroom was on the first floor. The second floor was an addition, and the only thing up there was my bedroom and a bathroom. “Mommy is tired. They want me to come in early tomorrow, so you kids need to keep it down.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Goodnight best mom in the entire universe.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Tell Mason it was nice seeing him again.”

I made my way to the rear of the house and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly.

“She said you could stay here until you’re able to work things out with your family.” I was smiling at him, but that excitement was short-lived. This wasn’t some slumber party. He was here because he couldn’t be at home.

“Thank God,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“She said you have to sleep in here,” I said in mock-apology. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Well damn it,” he replied. “I guess if there’re no other alternatives.” He got off of my bed and walked towards me. He put his arms around me slowly and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him—which had gotten considerably more difficult post-Thanksgiving. I kissed him a little bit longer before pushing him away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to cull my arousal. We could not have sex right now. I felt weird about doing things like that with my mom in the house. I totally wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to think about it,” he answered. “I’d rather make out with my boyfriend—among other things.”

“We have to wait until tomorrow, or my mom will hear and freak out,” I said seriously.

We’d masturbated together a few more times since the first experience in the kitchen. He’d given me head a few more times, and I reciprocated that as well. But we hadn’t done the actual deed. With him living here for an unknown amount of time, especially during winter break, we were likely going to go all the way.

“We can be quiet,” he whined. I was so turned on by the fact he enjoyed being intimate with me. Hearing him beg for it almost had me relenting.

“It will be better tomorrow,” I said, walking over to my laundry basket and throwing my shirt into it.

“Fine,” he pouted before smiling. “But don’t expect me to let go of you all night.”

We got into the bed and he kept his promise. At least for this night, the first time we ever were going to sleep together in the same bed, he had me pulled closely into his beefy body. My full-sized bed was just right, but at the rate Mason was growing, I didn’t think it would be just right for long.

I knew he didn’t want to talk about what happened with his dad, at least not yet, so we enjoyed one another in silence. Before long, I could hear him gently snoring behind me. He was very warm and that made me feel so calm, that before long, I was also fast asleep.

I was awake a little after six and immediately got up to take a shower. Mason was still sleeping even after I finished my shower, so I went to make him breakfast. I had made hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He was still sleeping when I finished around nine.

I ate with my mom and she let me know she was going to spend the morning shopping with my grandmother. She would be home this afternoon to take a nap and get ready for work. After she left, I went to wake up Mason.

He sat up quickly when I mentioned there was breakfast waiting for him downstairs. He got out of bed. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and a white undershirt. His thighs were huge and strong looking. His ass was barely contained by the ash-colored fabric. His belly pushed the small shirt up a bit, around his belly button. His arms looked massive, and I wanted to grab ahold of them and never let go.

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

“You can use the bathroom and come down for breakfast,” I said finally, regaining focus.

“Okay,” he said, sleepy eyed, scratching his tummy. He went off to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turning on and off, and about five minutes later he exited the bathroom, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed. We made our way downstairs.

Looking at the table, there was a ridiculous amount of food for one person. Even with what my mother and I ate, there was way too much for Mason. I’d used almost an entire bag of potatoes for the hash browns. I’d have to get another carton of eggs, having used the ten that we had in the fridge. The toast was buttered, and the bacon was crisp. I’d definitely been excited while cooking, thinking with my dick and not my head.

“I realize now this is an excessive amount of food.”

“I didn’t get to eat dinner last night,” he said. “I’m starving.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

Mason tackled the spread like a competitive eater. He took a piece of toast and carefully folded it in half before adding some of the other ingredients, making a sort of taco. He did this until the eight pieces of toast were gone. He then ate what was left of the eggs and hash browns with hot sauce. He drank two big glasses of milk too. I didn’t realize how much he could eat. I was sitting at the table across from him.

It was after breakfast. My mom wasn’t home. We could finally have at it.

“You ate all of it,” I said, touching my boner underneath the table. I was wearing a pair of running shorts that came about halfway up my thigh. I was easily able to access my dick.

“Yeah,” he said, his face going red. “I didn’t have dinner and I was really hungry and it tasted so good.” He placed his hands on his belly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, failing to keep it down. Majority of his clothes had begun to fit this way. “I guess you were wrong about the whole me getting fatter thing.”

“I was not wrong,” I said, standing. He took in my massive erection and smiled, relief showing on his face.

“We really are a pair of sexual deviants, huh?” I walked to his side of the table and grabbed his hand. He stood up, looking down at me for a moment. He scooped me up and held me in his powerful arms. We looked at one another for a moment. His eyebrows were so serious it made me laugh. He joined in and we laughed hard for a few moments.

“I got excited,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re so excited. It means it’s not just me.” Still in his arms, he made his way towards the stairs and ran us up to my room.

In a flurry, our clothing items flew off our bodies. His t-shirt, my shorts. My sweatshirt, his boxer briefs. We stood completely naked in the middle of my bedroom, and it was all sort of surreal.

“Oli, you’ve got a body like a porn star.”

“You may not be as defined as I am, but I’d much rather see you in a porno.” He laughed.

“We could be in one together,” he said, joking. “It’d be the only video I’d ever need for the rest of my life.”

I smiled at him, my hands on his waist. I enjoyed how he’d begun to spread out. His gut hadn’t been like this back in October. He was developing love handles, with little stretch marks around where his torso met his hips.

My hands moved to his biceps and he flexed them for me. My dick jumped at how solid his arms were, craving his body. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

I grabbed a condom and lube from a box in my closet. I didn’t think I’d ever get to use these things, and here I was about to use them with Mason. He moved onto the bed and he put his ass out for me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I said truthfully, almost half-regretting my honesty. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before I kissed you.” I had made out with some guys before, but I didn’t want to spoil how sweet that was. Something about this whole situation was kind of empowering.

“I’ll be gentle,” I said, trying to be suave. Sure, I had seen my fair share of pornography, but seeing something and executing something were two very different things. I didn’t want to be bad at it. I was always the passive, quiet one and I had to admit, I enjoyed the idea of being the dominant one in the bedroom.

I lubed up my penis as well as his asshole. I slapped his butt, enjoying the sound it made. I did it again and he gasped softly. He arched his back a little, accentuating the size of his ass.

I entered his beautiful ass slowly. I started with just the head, not wanting to hurt him. He was breathing loudly, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. I moved slightly, pushing a little more of myself into him, and felt a tingle go throughout my whole body. Mason continued gasping and whimpering and breathing loudly as I slowly pushed more and more of my dick inside of him.

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck, Oli,” he said, panting. “It’s starting to feel good. Keep going.” I did as I was told and bucked my hips back and forth, the sound of my upper thighs slamming against his fat ass creating a sort of beat. About halfway through he started tugging at his dick, moaning loudly as he came. That did it for me, and after a few more strokes, I filled the condom with my cum.

I was sure if someone were watching it would have looked awkward, but I didn’t care at all. I had never felt closer to a person. I had never felt closer to Mason.

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

“Are you okay?” I asked, removing the condom and throwing it in my trashcan.

“That felt really good.” Mason was still panting. I walked over to the bed where he was laying down and laid next to him. “I was worried there for a second, but little Oli sure knows what he’s doing.” I laughed.

“That was possibly the best experience of my life,” I said. He rolled over on top of me, straddling me, and covered my face with kisses. I loved it.

“How much do you weigh now?” I inquired, feeling his weight pressing me down.

“Get the scale,” he said, swinging himself from on top of me. I got off of the mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I got the scale and set it in the center of my bedroom. He placed his large feet on the scale, and I read the number.

“283 pounds.” In less than three months, Mason had gained nearly sixty pounds. I was getting hard again just thinking about where he’d be three months, six months, a year from now. I stepped on the scale next, also getting off on how much more he weighed than I did. It read 160 pounds and a little extra. 123 pounds. Mason was 123 pounds bigger than me.

“You’re fucking tiny,” he said in disbelief, looking down at the number displayed on the monitor. “I never realized how little you are." I turned my naked body to face him and gestured to my flaccid cock, which admittedly, was still pretty big.

“I wasn't talking about that,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t weighed 160 pounds since the fifth grade.”

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

“I find your skinniness to be quite the turn on.” He kissed me, grabbing my ass. “And if we’re being honest, you store all your weight in just the right places.” I didn’t know why that made me so flustered, but it did. I felt my face go hot. I liked that he thought I had a nice ass.

“I’d have to say the same goes for you,” I said.

“I hope to get much bigger,” he said, stepping back from me. He flexed his arms and I felt myself getting hard again. He knew what he was doing, turning me on. He turned around, so I could look at his wide back and juicy butt. He was damn near a wall. He turned back around and looked at me with extreme intensity.

“What’s with that look all of a sudden?”

“I want to be able to keep you safe, Oli. I’m going to be big enough to protect you from everything.” I was so turned on again. He was adorable.

“Thanks Mason,” I said, reaching out to embrace him. We stood together for a few minutes before we took a shower and got dressed. Throughout the day Mason ate all the snacks we had in the house. We went shopping and stockpiled food in my bedroom. He didn’t want to let my mother know he was constantly inhaling food. We did have to keep all the milk he got in the fridge. I wondered what my mom would say about it. Two weeks of him eating this way and he’d get huge.

Holiday break could only last the two weeks; I knew it could only be two weeks, and yet the morning classes were to resume, I was an anxious mess. Mason’s constant eating slapped another ten pounds onto his beefy frame, putting him at 293 pounds. Everyone was going to notice. He was gigantic. He was still incredibly muscular underneath his recent gain though, only making him appear even wider.

The only time Mason was away from me was when he’d go to meet with his uncle to lift weights. Galvin told Mason he didn’t care that he was gay, and that Mason’s dad would come around soon. It meant a lot to Mason that his uncle still supported him.

Mason’s arms were big and strong, and his thighs were probably so large to hold up his massive bubble butt. His belly pushed up all his shirts and buttoning pants was just a waste of time, so he wore sweatpants and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. I felt bad. This day was going to be bad. He looked good to me of course, but everyone was going to stir up trouble. I didn’t want to go to school.

He drove us to school that morning and things were fairly similar to the way they were before break. That’s not to say people weren’t making comments, but there was nothing too out of the ordinary. Things were actually bearable until lunch.

We sat together, eating lunch amidst the stares of our nosy classmates. I had a fruit salad, some fries, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a banana. Mason had bought three slices of pizza, fries, chicken tenders, and three milks. It was like he didn't care about what was happening at all—all the stares, all the names, the comments, and dirty looks.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, eating a few fries, but not really feeling all that hungry. My stomach was in knots. He was already on his second slice of pizza.

“Well, I mean you kind of move your mouth in a gnawing motion after placing food in there. Like this—,” he said, taking a colossal bite and chewing theatrically. I laughed loudly. He was so dumb sometimes, able to make a joke that could distract me from my negative feelings. He smiled at me and started on his chicken tenders.

“I meant all of the people,” I said, clarifying what I was sure he knew I was originally referring to.

“I just don’t care,” he said seriously. “I wasted three years of my life caring about what other people thought. It’s 2012. Being gay shouldn’t be this big of an issue. I let other people tell me being gay was wrong. I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He gulped down his second milk, nibbling at his remaining fries. His sweatshirt exposed a bit of belly as it set in his lap. “I love you, Oli. I just think about that and I don’t even notice everybody else.”

He loved me? I knew I loved him too, but we hadn’t said it before.

“I think I’ll try that,” I said. “Thinking about how much I love you.” I thought I was supposed to be the one thinking positive? I was proud to call Mason my boyfriend.

I opened my banana and heard an increase in laughter. I looked over at Bret pointing at me.

“You thinking about Mason’s dick?” he called, causing his table to erupt in laughter again. I forgot not to get a banana. I hadn’t eaten a banana at school since freshman year. I moved the banana away from my lips, visibly distraught. It was so embarrassing being made fun of in front of Mason.

“Can I have that?” Mason asked as he smiled at me. I handed him the banana. “Thanks.” He put it in and out of his mouth suggestively, making a ridiculous face as well. He then shoved the whole thing in greedily. He had me doubled over in laughter again. He was so absurd sometimes. He chewed and drank the last milk.

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

“Thanks. That was so good,” he said loudly, for Bret and his cronies to hear. He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. Was I falling even more in love with him? He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m still hungry. I think I got too used to you keeping me well-fed. I’m going to get a cookie.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I felt better. Better than ever. I was almost done with my sandwich when Bret came over. That positive feeling didn’t stand a chance.

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

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and-stir-the-stars · 9 months

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random backstory + headcanon stuff for my Chica mask OC

Appearance: (x)

Name: Anita Julie Diop. 1970s/80s Utah is racist af tho, so she goes by Julie to distance herself from her heritage (something she'll regret later). Her friends call her "Jules."

Family: Two parents and an older sister

backstory stuff:

Her parents are overbearing with high expectations and are impossible to please.

Growing up, Jules was close to her sister, Zora, but Zora ran away to be with her girlfriend on account of their homophobic parents.

Ever since Zora ran away, Jules' parents refuse to let Jules mention her sister. They constantly make snide, derogatory comments about how Jules will end up "just like her fag sister."

Her parents refuse to call her Julie, no matter how many times she tells them to

Sometime after Zora runs away, the Diop family moves. I have yet to decide whether they simply move from one side of Hurricane to another side (to a house they can better afford now that the parents aren't taking care of Zora), or if they are moving TO Hurricane again after living elsewhere for a time. Either way, the result is that Jules is in a new house that doesn't have any of the good memories Jules had with her sister; all the memories she has with her sister is tainted by her parents' snide comments. Jules tries going to a few hide outs she and her sister had around town, but even then, it just... doesn't feel the same.

In addition to the time period typical racism, Jules' desire to ditch her heritage is also due in part to a desire to distance herself from and reject her parents

The intense racism + her parents' treatment of her also contributes to Jules toughened attitude and constant lashing out. Jules refuses to let anyone walk over her in public since it happens so much at home. Jules has learned that the only time she gets listened to is when she yells, kicks, and screams. She also lashes out to prove a point to her parents: she's not like her sister, and she isn't a sweet little mama's girl, either. This is who she is, and her parents-- the world-- is going to face who she is, even if Jules has to force them to.

The Friend group:

Jules and my Freddy mask oc, Kody, are the oldest members of the friend group

Jules punched someone who was bullying Kody, and Kody proceeded to give her a wide-eyed look before whispering that she was the coolest person ever (Jules: uhh... thanks, i guess..?)

Jules' reaction to meeting Kody, someone who not only listens to her but low key hangs onto every word she says: wtf??? Ykw, I can live with this *friendship unlocked*

Because they're both friendless outsiders, Jules takes Kody under her wing. She also tries to help him be more assertive, since Kody is a people-pleaser who cares too much what others think

Jules realizes that her assertiveness lessons are paying off when they see a boy with a mullet (Mike) being chased by bullies and Kody is the first one to step in and save Mullet-Boy without Jules even saying anything

As for how Bonnie mask comes to be in the Friend Group (or the Loser's Club, to borrow the term from Stephen King's IT). Jules, Kody, and Mike hear a kid got after-school detention for hitting, kicking, and/or verbally embarrassing a teacher they all hate (who refuses to do anything when they're bullied in class, or blames them for their bullies' actions). So they go up to him during lunch that day, tell Bonnie mask that they admire his guts, and tell him how to piss off the teacher/principal in charge of watching the after-school detention kids. After that: friendship unlocked!

Random headcanons:

Remember how Julie and her sister had some hideaways around town, and going to the hideaways after Zora ran away didn't feel right anymore? Well, once Jules gets more comfortable with the friend group, she takes them to some of the hide aways. The positive memories she forms with her friends there reclaims the hide aways for her, in a way, after her parents tainted the memories she had of her sister

Jules isn't your sterotypical girlie girl, but she's not ashamed of her feminity, either. If any of the boys tries making fun of her feminity, she is not afraid to throw hands

Her clothing pallet is mostly blues, grays, and browns with yellow accents

Yk that trend of making bleach art clothes on tiktok? Jules does that. She makes flowers, random swirls, butterflies/moths, birds, dragons, etc etc. Sometimes it's cutesy art, sometimes it's with a darker twist; her flowers might have eyes in the center and sharp bloody teeth instead of thorns, etc etc.

Mike and Bonnie mask are super interested in it so Jules teaches them how to do bleach art on their clothes

Kody tends to dress rather blandly. Jules finds out sometime after the Bite that his clothing taste is actually more flamboyant but he's afraid of getting teased, and Jules encourages him to dress how he wants, saying she'll beat up anyone who even looks at him wrong (including-- no, especially-- Bonnie mask and Mike, if Mike is still part of the friend group post-Bite)

Since they both have overbearing parents, Jules and Bonnie mask are both jealous upon learning that Mike can do pretty much whatever he wants without evoking his father’s wrath (or so they think, given how Mike dresses and treats his siblings without being punished, and given how they know William is rarely home)

Kody, however, is not, for reasons I'll expand upon in a Kody-centric post.

How the Freddy and Friends masks come into play: one day, Mike refuses to take off his Foxy mask. The gang teases him about it; eventually Jules or Bonnie Mask even rips off his Foxy Mask, revealing that Mike has a nasty bruise he had been trying to hide. The friend group assures Mike that the bruises are just something William DID to Mike; they don't reflect/speak anything about Mike, just about William, and Mike didn't deserve what Will did. And then the friend group all get their own masks to wear, too, so Mike won't be wearing his mask alone. The masks stick, though, as a symbol of their friendship, and as a reminder that they're always going to be there for each other.

#kats fnaf takes #oc: jules diop #oc: kody rust #bonnie mask has a name. I just haven't made his intro post yet. So.

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whothinkswhatithink · 10 months

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I have such a weird relationship with my dad. Growing up I was definitely a “daddy’s girl” we did a lot together and liked the same things, anytime my sister went in a dance trip it was always me and my dad. Watching movies, eating out, going on hikes, all that kid stuff. But through my formative years like high school and even today I find it so stressful to be around him. The biggest reason is his prejudice against so many things. I would call him like a quiet racist and a quiet mysonginst. Like he’s not a conservative and definitely has progressive views on a lot of stuff concerning education and politics and yet it’s the language he uses to talk about certain people. He used to work as a janitor at an elementary and school and the way he used to talk about “these women” “all those helpless women” with such disdain in his voice that it never felt like just an annoyance but a full on hatred. He does the same thing when he talks about Mexicans, he pulls the “well it’s not racist for me to say I don’t like Mexicans because I had a lot of bad experiences with them” like that’s literally being racist to group them all together like that? Plus he’s a big believer in “oh it was a different time, there were no gay people or it was fine to say fag or the N word” (which he will actually say). We have in depth conversations about a lot of things going on in the world and we agree on a lot of stuff concerning the death of knowledge in America, how unfairly kids are treated in schools, he believes all women should body autonomy and a choice, he believes in gun control, staunch hater of Donald trump and conservative beliefs, he wants to be able to have enlightened discussions with people and not just arguments, and yet he hates the fact that they have names like Muhammad or Emanuel in freaking storybook problems, or the fact that movies like black panther or crazy rich Asians were completely monumental for having an all Poc cast, and just so many little things that he just doesn’t believe make him prejudice. He says there is so much hypocrisy in this nation with where people get their information and the hate they end up spewing but doesn’t realize he is part of that exact grouping. Not to mention is also just a typical dad that is so embarrassing anytime we leave the house and I feel like he looses all sense of how to act around people or he thinks he’s funny when’s he not. It’s wild to me how my dad went from someone who was my best friend growing to someone I can’t stand to be around with my anxiety peaking or just wanting to argue with him. Yikes

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gatheringbones · 3 years

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["HOW SEX WORKERS TAUGHT ME HOW TO HUSTLE

Summer, 1995, Friday, and Species were blowing up at the box office. Groove Theory's "Tell Me" and Notorious B.I. G.'s "One More Chance (Remix)" were in heavy rotation on my Sony Walkman. I had just graduated from high school in Philadelphia, and despite having struggled with what felt like unreachable standards of black masculinity since childhood, my challenges with my sexual orientation nearly vanished when I felt the lips of another guy for the first time. There was no great debate in my soul. The natural emotion I felt from a man was something I never felt with a woman. Also, I found people who loved me and provided a space for conversation and freedom. I wasn't alone.

My friends and I were fixtures on Thirteenth Street. Before the City of Brotherly Love was gentrified, the strip was known as "Freak Street," especially after midnight, when most of the white gays headed home and the black and Latin LGBT kids held court. We were street urchins who terrified the white gay community and black heterosexuals. We didn't believe in same-sex marriage; we were anti-marriage. We proudly called ourselves dykes, trannies, fags, queens, butches, and drags— all unacceptable language by today's standards. The intersection of class, race, and sexuality was evident in our unique slang, tribal house music, and crafty survival skills.

Like clockwork, I strolled up Thirteenth Street every night, trekking to the club, which didn't open until one a.m. and didn't get hot for another two hours. There was usually a group of sex workers on the corner of Sansom and Thirteenth, the majority of whom were black and Latin trans women. Initially, I was terrified by these women. I had no experience with them; they had been torn down by a mid 1990's economy, never allowed in the workforce, and education was inaccessible to them due to rampant discrimination. Because of my internalized prejudices, their exterior shook my soul.

For weeks, I hurried past their gaze as I dashed up Thirteenth Street. These were the same women I would see in the club later that night, but in my stupid mind, I feared being associated with them. They could feel my disdain for them.

However, one particular woman was deeply insulted that I wouldn't speak to her when we crossed paths. "Hey, faggot!" she screamed after we locked eyes and I turned away. Attempting to channel a "Freak Like Me"-era Adina Howard in red leather hot pants, a black corset, and a short hairdo, she spat, "I see your ass down here every weekend, bitch— you ain't gonna speak?"

"I don't know you!" I shot back, startling myself.

"Mothafucka, I know you and you ain't that cute!" she sassed as I sped up. "Didn't your mama teach you to speak to people when you see them? I'm a damn human being!"

"These young faggots..." I heard another woman mumble in a tone that was more disappointed than angry.

The next night, Adina spotted me from a distance walking up the other side of Thirteenth Street. I couldn't believe she could see me from that far away. "There he go!" she hollered. I moved quickly, but she stomped across the street, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings jingling in unison. Adina stood before me, blocking my escape. I was scared for my life.

"You are gonna see me," she demanded in a surprisingly calm voice.

It was at that point something in my teenage brain clicked. I had not truly seen her before that moment. It occurred to me that I had often walked by her like she was garbage on the corner, the same way angry heterosexuals leered at my friends and me if they accidentally wandered down Thirteenth Street after midnight. Although I was never a sex worker, Adina and I were both part of the black and Latin LGBT community, living on the fringes of society.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, eyes down as I squeezed my hands together in terror.

"You are sorry! You're sorry and you're tired!" Adina shouted. "Now, next time you walk down the goddamn street, you make sure you show some respect and speak to us. Got it?" I nodded my head. "Go on now to that club."

From that moment on I made it a point to see Adina.

Every night I walked down the street, I gave a hello to Adina and her friends. Eventually I walked down their side of the street and stopped to talk. She illuminated so much for a young, impressionable teenager, and in her own way, she taught me life skills. She could clock someone's story with one glance: "He's gonna wanna get fucked," "He's gonna be cheap," or "He's gonna be a rough client." More often than not, she was right.

"How are you able to figure someone out so quickly?" I asked her.

She smiled. "All you have to do is ask one question," she explained. "As long as you nod your head and look like you fucking care, they'll tell you their life story." As frightful as she originally appeared to me, Adina owned that superpower and could flip the switch, making anyone she chose feel instantly comfortable."]

clay cane, live through this: surviving the intersections of sexuality, god, and race

#clay cane #gay literature #history stuff #currently reading

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imagine-that-100 · 3 years

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Why No Answer? | Part 2 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’re woken up in the middle of the night to find Alex drunk and high on your doorstep. Looking after him proves to be a tiring and revealing ordeal.

Word Count: 12.8k

Warnings: Angst (from the past) but lots of fluff.

A/N: So this was requested by the lovely @psychkunox, really hope you enjoy this. I don’t know what happened, but I got very carried away with the word count yet again sorry about that ahha. I would recommend watching the Restaurant scene from When Harry Met Sally either before or after you read. It’s quite comical and will give you more context. Anyway though, Likes, Reblogs, and Feedback is always appreciated, but thank you all for reading, I really hope you all enjoy xx

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Read Part 1: | Here |

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“Al stop.” You scorn him in a whisper as he once again kisses the back of your neck as you stand in the queue for Space Mountain.

You really tried not to indulge in the feeling of his lips on your skin because it was an extremely addicting sensation. But you were in public, in Disney World of all places where everyone had their phones and cameras out, and the band were all standing in front of you in the queue.

“Alex.” You whisper shout again and pull yourself out of the hold he had on your hips when you felt him do it again.

You turn around and shake your head when you note the mischief in his eyes and the slight smirk gracing his pretty lips. You wanted nothing more to have them on your own in such a beautiful place but that couldn’t happen since you both decided you wanted to keep your relationship between yourselves for a while longer.

You were their photographer which meant that you didn’t want things to get weird with them on tour. And after you and Alex both decided to keep your relationship on the downlow when you initially started going out with each other, you sort of wanted to keep it that way, so nothing changed the dynamic of your group.

You were only 2 years younger than Matt and Alex, 3 years younger than Jamie and Nick, so you’d always been pretty close with them all. You thought of them all as your brothers as you were growing up as Alex had gone to the same primary school as you and Matt and they had been best mates since the beginning.

They met Jamie and Nick in High School along with Andy who was obviously initially in the band, before he stepped down and Nick took over. They had always been your family who’d taken good care of you and you knew just how lucky you were to have them all.

But obviously to them you’d always been Matt’s little, and sometimes annoying, sister. When they were 14/15 they all wanted nothing to do with you and you were certain Alex had hated you once upon a time, but that might have been because you were a 12 year old who’d started growing up having crushes on all of your brothers friends.

Thankfully they didn’t disown you completely as when you reached the less annoying age of 15, they didn’t seem to push you out as much. You liked hanging out with all of them, and you saw them more because they always had to come to your house because Matt couldn’t move the drum kit unless it was for a gig.

You’d always liked music as it had always been an escape for you. Like when the band were first starting out when you’d go up to your bedroom to escape the utter shit music they were making, and you’d have your Pulp and Blur records on.

There was a new band you actually introduced them too at the time which was The Strokes, which is comical in hindsight because if you’d never told Alex and Matt to listen to that record when they caught you humming along to Barely Legal, you weren’t sure Alex would have had the motivation to keep the band going and get it as big as they had become.

It wasn’t a secret that Alex’s hero was Julian Casablancas.

A few years later the band was getting bigger and the excitement in your household at them potentially making it big was intense. So much so that your Mum and Dad threw a party for them all when they got scouted and got the record deal.

It was at that party that Matt and Alex drunkenly agreed to let you be their photographer as soon as you were done with your photography apprenticeship. It was something they never forgot though and they did actually let you become their photographer.

So as soon as your apprenticeship finished in the summer of 2006, your 18-year-old self joined the lads on their tour. To say it was a dream come true would be an understatement.

Both you and Matt had loved photography your entire lives, stemming from when your Grandma bought you both a digital camera each one year for Christmas. Since then, it’d become your passion and your plan was to be a photographer anyway.

But being the photographer for Arctic Monkeys meant that you got to travel the world and see places you never thought you would, and you never got home sick because you already had your family around you.

You honestly adored your job.

In the breaks between their tours and them writing new material you would take other photography jobs in the years off, but that didn’t really happen for the first four years of them all being big.

Alex asked Domino if you could do their The Age of the Understatement tour too which you were surprised by, but of course you did it. A job was a job and you weren’t going to turn it down just because your brother wasn’t there.

Usually on the tours you’d stay in a separate bus from the lads because after the first week into the first tour you joined them on you saw what an absolute shit tip they all created. They were all revolting and all typical lads, being messy, every other sentence was a sex joke, and they were just revolting creatures.

To you it was genuinely a surprise they actually showered after every gig.

But thankfully with the years passing and being on tour busses became a constant for them instead of something new and exciting, they all got better. So, their Suck It And See tour was the first full tour you’d actually stayed in the bus with them.

Although sometimes you wished you hadn’t because that tour was where he met Breana and you definitely heard things you’d never want to hear again. You don’t know how the other lads weren’t scarred from the noises that came out of Matt’s bunk those nights.

All you had to say about it was thank god for earphones and ear defenders.

But you think it was on that tour that you started getting closer to Alex and the other lads. Mostly due to Matt being a love stuck puppy who spent most of his time with Breana but also because you didn’t want to burden him with your emotions.

About a month before the Suck It And See tour started in the February of 2011, your arsehole of a boyfriend texted you saying that he didn’t want to see you anymore. He was an arsehole for doing it over text and then not answering your calls afterwards, but he was an even bigger arsehole for getting with who you thought was your best friend as soon as the tour started.

Matt and the lads obviously knew about the breakup but due to them all having no social media none of them knew what your best friend had done to you. So, you cried about that betrayal in your bunk at night when you knew everyone else was asleep and you cried when you found moments of solitude.

They had enough going on with interviews and tours and you didn’t want them to burden them with your issues too. But that stopped when Alex walked in on your crying in the back lounge of the bus about a month into the tour.

Your ex best friend had just posted a picture of her and your ex who you still had the misfortune of having feelings for and you just crumbled. When you saw it you just couldn’t bear the thought of being around anyone else, so you slipped out of their presence and cried your way back to the tour bus.

Thankfully no one followed you in your time of crisis which meant that you got your uncontrollable sobs out of the way alone. But of course, someone came back to the bus and found you.

And that person was Alex.

He’d come back for another pack of fags needing the extra nicotine in the hours before a show. But all thoughts of that stopped when he heard crying come from the back end of the bus.

He walked past the bunks and opened the door into the back lounge to find you sat on the floor with your head buried into your knees and sobs were ringing in his ears. His heart dropped at the sight.

“Y/N what's wrong?” Alex asks, rushing over to you.

And when you didn't answer he called your name again. “Y/N?”

But you just shake your head and continue sobbing into your knees. So he begs, “Please talk to me, love”

He was kneeling down beside you, his hand coming to the back of your head as if to slowly coax you out of your hiding stop. And after stroking the back of your head for a minute, your head rises from your hiding spot but your eyes remain shut and you continue to sob.

Alex tries his best to coax you out of your sobs but you’re pretty much hyperventilating in front of him. After another one of the longest minutes of Alex’s life he manages to get you to slow your cries enough for words to fall from your lips.

“My life’s falling apart” You sob, still refusing to look at him. Your breathing is better but still erratic when you continue to tell him in a pain stricken voice, “I can’t carry on crying myself to sleep like this every night... I- I just want to feel normal again”

“What’s happened? Why are you upset?” Alex begs for you to tell him, ripping the tears from under your eyes.

The only thing that comes to mind is your previous relationship, so Alex asks, “Is it about your ex?”

You nod, tears still pouring down your eyes, “He’s taken everything Alex... My life is fucking ruined”

“No he hasn’t Y/N. You’re here, you’ve got us” He tries to assure you, but you just shake your head.

After a second you open your watery eyes and Alex can see how much pain they hold. They somehow contain even more when you speak the words out loud, “He’s going out with Y/B/F.”

Even Alex’s blood runs cold when he hears that. His words almost get caught in his throat when he asks, “What?”

You nod, sniffling a bit and wiping your own tears from your cheeks when you repeat, “He’s going out with Y/B/F.”

“Please tell me you’re joking” The words fall from his mouth before he can stop them.

You and your best friend had been together since day one, like you’d practically been friends since birth. You were practically sisters.

It was only the odd time Alex would come to yours and Matt’s house growing up and Y/B/F wasn’t there with you. You were the annoying girls he couldn’t escape.

Not that he still felt like that as you yourself had become a really good friend but back when you were 12 you were both so fucking annoying. But everyone knew that your and Y/B/F came as a pair.

You were the best of friends, and completely inseparable.

“I don’t think I’d be on the floor crying if I was joking Alex.” You whine, trying your best to stop your tears now someone else was with you.

You nod towards your phone that you threw on the sofa when you walked in the room and say, “Just look”

So Alex does. He takes your phone off the side and unlocks it knowing your password was your birthday and he quickly puts the numbers in and watches as it unlocks.

And his heart sinks at the proof that lays in his hands. There on the screen he can clearly see the picture of your best friend and your ex-boyfriend quite clearly together.

They were posed in the way couples typically posed for pictures and then there was another of them at the same party and they stood kissing, and Alex found it repulsive.

“This isn’t okay.” Alex looks up from the phone to see your head no leaning back against the settee, tears falling freely down your cheeks now.

You make no effort to look at him when you say, “I know.”

“Why didn’t Matt tell me?” Alex asks, a little confused.

Surely this was something that was to be at least hushedly whispered to the people closest to you.

“Because he doesn't know.” You say simply.

“Why?” He asks, locking the phone so you didn’t see the pictures again.

You told Matt everything these days. There was no point in secrets between you as you were adults and you cared for the other’s well-being.

You’d always been open with each other, minus the time that you went out to a party when you were 16 and came back with a series of love bites on your neck. All of the lads had been really shocked when you walked in a little bit tipsy with those on your skin.

Matt had been furious and a little disgusted knowing someone had been touching you in a romantic sense. So, it was no surprise to the other lads that when you were questioned on if something more happened, you pressed your swollen lips together and slipped up to your room denying that anything else had happened.

It was comical because it was clear to everyone else that it had gone further than someone kissing your neck.

Everyone took the piss out of Matt that night saying that someone had just taken his sister's virginity and it left the drummer mortified. But you always denied it to the full band until about 6 months later when Alex had asked you in the kitchen if you were actually lying or not.

Of course, Alex didn’t actually tell any of the others when you confirmed what everyone already knew. But that was the last time you’d ever lied to your brother.

So, hearing that your brother didn’t know about this shocking and frankly disgusting news in your life was concerning.

You looked up towards your brothers’ best mate and told him the truth, “Because I can’t ruin his time with Breana…”

You had to trail off because the lump in your throat was getting too much. So you swallowed it away before continuing, your voice still pained, barely above a whisper, “He really likes her and he doesn’t need to be worrying about me... She could be the mother of his children for all we know... I’m not ruining that chance because my life has fallen apart.”

“He’d understand Y/N/N.” Alex told you, once again leaning forward to wipe away your tears.

You shake your head, “It’s not fair.”

“And you think what’s happened to you is fair?” Alex questions, knowing full well that it wasn’t.

No one deserved this type of betrayal. Especially you.

You just started weeping again then and Alex brought you into his arms, needing to console you in a hug. Thankfully you didn’t resist his hug and Alex let you cry into his shoulder as you clung to him.

After a while of him rubbing your back and whispering you sweet nothings, he had to tell you, “You could have told me Y/N/N.”

You shake your head into his neck then, Alex could still feel the tears falling onto his skin. He just about hears you say into his shoulder, “You’re happy with Arielle, I don’t want you dealing with my shit either.”

“Your family, what hurts you hurts me” Alex tells you, “You’ve always got me Y/N… Always.”

After another five minutes of you both on the floor, Arielle walks in and is immediately worried seeing you sat on the ground crying into Alex’s arms. Alex just politely asked her to go and get Matt though which she did, and you didn’t oppose it.

You couldn’t deal with that on your own any longer and you were thankful for Alex being so kind to you. Your heart just fully melted in your chest later on after everything had been explained to everyone and he pulled you aside and gave you another big hug.

He whispered to you, “You’re going to be okay Y/N/N.” before placing a kiss to the top of your head.

The rest of that tour was filled with him making sure you were always okay and so did the other lads. But maybe it felt more personal to you when Alex checked on you because he was the one that found you.

It was him that just told you to cut them from your life completely and block them on everything as ‘they weren’t good enough for you anyway’. After you did that you felt better about your life. You’d cleared them from your Instagram, leaving no trace on your page that they were ever in your life and it was a difficult purge, but it definitely helped you in the long run.

The years without them in your life were tough but it had proven to be for the best in the end.

Because once upon a time you thought you were going to marry your ex-boyfriend, but now you were standing in Disney World with your boyfriend trying to steal kisses from you. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You give your boyfriend of 4 months a warning look, but his eyes just held mischief. You had to remind him, “They are going to see.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else.” Alex says moving back towards you, and ushering you to move up the line a bit.

“After this we’ll try and escape.” You promise, but he was really shit at turning you down and you wanted it to be believable. “But you have to actually pretend you don’t wanna go.”

He rolls his eyes but sighs, “Fine.”

After Space Mountain you announced to the lads that you wanted to go see the Disney characters next which they all groaned at. You first of all pleaded with Matt to come with you knowing he wouldn’t before the rest of the lads and one by one they all dismissed you.

The last person you asked was Alex and he surprisingly put up a good fight until you ‘wore him down’ and got your own way. You spent the rest of the afternoon going round with him and getting pictures of the both of you with the characters and you got a nice lady to take a few pictures of you both outside the castle.

Those were your favourites, especially the one where he was kissing you.

As you were walking back to meet the others who were already back at the bus, you felt the need to tell him something which you’d yet to say. You didn’t think you’d find a better time than walking hand in hand in front of the Disney castle after one of the best days of your life.

So you pause your walk back for a moment to kiss him one last time before you make it back to the others. The kiss was sweet, just like the whole day had been, and you definitely felt like it was the right time to say, “I love you Alex.”

Immediately a smile found its way onto his lips, and he was practically beaming with joy. “You love me?” Alex asks you in a little disbelief.

“Yeah…” You nod, a massive smile on your lips “A lot as well.”

Alex leant down and kissed you again then, this time though his arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off your feet, spinning you around in his arms. It caused you to giggle into the kiss a little but you loved it.

When your feet touched the ground again Alex told you, “I love you so much Y/N”

“I know.” You grin as he’d already told you once before.

Alex just chuckles at you, “Alright Han Solo” which made you giggle.

“I love you more than anything Al, thank you for making me happy.” You tell him wrapping your arms around him, needing a tight embrace just so he knew you meant every single word.

His arms obviously snake around you, making you feel secure in the warm hug. And your heart melts once more when he kisses your head and says, “I love you more Angel, thank you for letting me make you happy.”

~*~*~*~

“Al.” You said attempting and failing to pull away from the kiss he’d trapped you in.

If you were honest, you really weren’t really putting up much of a fight to stop the kisses. You were in one of their many tents that this festival they were performing at had given them.

There was one for chilling out in, one that was essentially a bar, and a few more you’d yet to explore. But Alex had pulled you into one with the mass of beanbags in it and he wasted no alone time to have his lips connect to yours.

“Yes baby?” He says in his low voice and you could hear his hunger for you in his voice before he kissed you again.

It made your stomach flip as you knew exactly what he was thinking as you’d heard his voice like that many times since you started seeing each other. You both had to show some restraint though as anyone could walk into the tent, there was only a flimsy curtain between inside and outside.

You pull on his hair to make him pull away as you couldn’t do it yourself as he’d trapped you between him and a beanbag. Once his soft lips parted from yours, you told him seriously, “Wait until the hotel.”

“But I want you now.” Alex then pouts at you, confirming the explicit thoughts that were running through his head.

You tell him truthfully, finding his pout very cute, “And I want you, but I’m not shagging you in a tent.”

“Why?” Alex questions, looking around for a moment before his gorgeous brown eyes meet your Y/E/C ones again. He chuckles, “It's a really posh tent.”

You guess it was too post to actually call it a tent. It was huge for a start and looked very expensive. You definitely felt privileged to get to experience all of this with him and the band.

“Hun you had me all last night...” You shake your head whilst smiling like an idiot, “You can retrain yourself until we get back.”

“Not easily.” He pouts again and it makes you giggle which he once again finds adorable.

Another kiss is exchanged then but you don't let it get to what it just had been like. You stop it after he tries to distract you and deepen it again but you’re having none of it.

“You need to go or there gunna be like ‘what’s he doing in there?’” You say knowing he’d be asked to drink with them sooner rather than later.

Alex smiles knowing you’re right, but he chuckles when he tells you, “You know we have to tell them at some point, right?”

“Yeah I know, I just want as much of this tour to be as normal as possible.” You say, aimlessly stroking your fingers up and down the short hair on the back of his hair. You grin when you say, “I’d like to escape Jamie’s jokes for as long as possible.”

Alex just laughs then before he pecks your lips once more. “I don’t blame you Angel… But you can handle yourself. We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” You smile, feeling very content in this moment that you had with him. “I love you Al.”

“I love you too.” He tells you before he steals another kiss and gets himself up. “Do you want a drink?”

You shake your head whilst you get yourself comfy on the beanbag, also reaching to the nearby blanket to cover yourself with. “Nah, I’m good thanks. I’m gunna have a nap before the show.”

Alex smiles at you then, turning back towards you when he gets near the curtain to leave. He just stops by the curtain that divides him from outside and when he sees you getting curled up under the blanket.

He can’t help but nod and say, “Yeah.”

“Yeah what?” You ask looking back up to him standing there grinning at you.

Alex nods down at you in your cosy spot and continues, “Yeah, you were definitely meant for me.”

You grin like an idiot then before you tell him, “Love you baby.”

“Love you too.” Alex smiles and sends a wink your way before he heads out of the tent.

You can’t help but shut your eyes and snuggle into your new ‘bed’ with a massive grin on your face. But when you hear Miles say, “Oi Al, you dickhead. Come and have a shot.” you just start giggling.

~*~*~*~

You were absolutely plastered, and it was really making Alex laugh. Even more so than it usually would because you were trying your best not to be obvious that you wanted his affection.

You were a clingy drunk which was absolutely fine, and all the lads knew that, but watching you slip up around him and having to make up for it with the other lads was really comical for Alex.

You’d just come over to Alex after you’d beaten him at pool and teased him for being shit. To which Alex was shooting digs back at you but all you did in response was laugh, call him a sore loser and ruffle his perfect hair up which you knew annoyed him.

So Alex had just forced your hands out of his hair by grabbing your wrists and stopping you from doing anything more. He gave you warning looks like he would have done any other time you annoyed him before you got together but you also noted the looks as a reminder of the secret that you’d set out.

That was what led you to sitting on Jamie’s lap and talking his ear off about Katie whilst playing with his wavy hair. He threatened you to get off it, saying he’d cut it all off which you at first drunkenly pleaded with him not too but then you changed your mind saying he could definitely pull off a Peaky Blinders cut.

Once off Jamie you went on to have some flirty banter with Miles as Nick and Jamie played pool. Alex was watching you with an amused look on his face as his best mate was teasing you about not being on the pull whilst being in a bar with everyone.

You came back with things like, “Aw Miles, I couldn’t do that to you. I know you’d cry yourself to sleep if I entertained anyone elses flirting besides yours.”

Alex also found your laugh adorable when Miles kissed you on your cheek and Matt told him to leave you alone and to stop flirting with you. It was times like that that made Alex glad his best mate didn’t know about the two of you yet.

But after Nick’s game of pool finished and Nick won, he was calling it a night, despite it being relatively early. It seemed that you knew your tolerance though and decided to head back to the bus with Nick.

So you then went around the other 4 lads who were staying and made a bit of an effort to kiss them all goodnight, Alex presumed so you could kiss him. Something which proved to be correct because you came to him last after kissing all the other lads, including your brother, on the cheek and came to give him one.

“Thank you for my drinks” You drunkenly smile at him and Alex grins down at you in an amused way.

“You’re welcome love” Alex chuckles at your tipsy state and you then force a hug upon him.

He obviously hugs you back but he’s aware of his mates looking so he doesn’t make it completely obvious that he’s enjoying the hug as much as he is despite him really wanting to. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your lips instead of you leaning in to kiss his cheek.

When you left his arms, he smiled at you and you moved back to your brother and made him give you a hug. Something which Matt did but not without a roll of his eyes, but Alex could tell it was a playful one.

“See you in the morning guys.” You say with a smile after linking your arm through Nick’s so he could help you walk back.

Everyone said bye to you then and their attention was on the new game of pool again. But whilst it was Matt’s go Alex let his eyes focus on you.

You were so cute, he wanted nothing more than to take you back to a hotel away from the others so he could just be with you all night. But Alex also understood why you wanted to keep it a secret for a while longer.

Tours were long, and he knew you’d both be bullied about it for a while from the others, which you were both prepared for. But you were due to be on the road for the next year with AM due out in September.

The plan was to tell them as soon as interviews back home started so you didn’t have to be around the joking for long. Alex was used to it after Alexa and Arielle, but he knew you weren’t, and he respected that.

So that was why he denied it when the lads began to question him on it about 5 minutes after you left.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks as Alex pots another ball into the pool table.

Alex grins thinking Matt was just fuming he was losing. As Alex moves around the table to eye up another winning shot, he says, “I’m beating you at pool

“No.” Matt shakes his head, earning eye contact from his best mate. “I mean with Y/N/N.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asks as he leans over the table to play his next shot, “She’s just gone back with Nick.”

“Don’t think he means that.” Miles grinned at him after he missed the tricky shot he’d chosen.

Alex raises his eyebrows in a questioning way, getting the feeling that people were catching on to how you were around each other.

And that suspicion is confirmed when Jamie says, “You’re very touchy with each other.”

“Touchy?” Alex laughs, as he watches your brother take another shot, “Jamie mate, she was on your lap earlier.”

“Yeah, but she keeps like teasing you and messing with your hair and shit.” Matt chips in with his observations after missing his shot on the stripped balls.

Alex rolls his eyes, “Matt, you literally fucked with my hair earlier today and Jamie did it yesterday... You all like to fucking annoy me by doing that.”

Alex continues to defend the both of you even though he wishes he didn’t have to. “You know what she’s like when she’s drunk, she doesn’t leave anyone alone.”

“He has a point; she didn’t shy away from me kissing her.” Miles points out raising his pint to the drummer.

Matt fakes a gag then and says, “Leave her the fuck alone Kane.”

“But she loves me.” Miles pouts, resting a hand over his heart like Matt’s words had hurt him. “You definitely want me as your brother-in-law.”

Alex smiles to himself knowing that he was now 6 months ahead of Miles in that category. God, he loved you. He could definitely see a bright future with you, and he had every intention to marry you one day in the years to come.

“I’d rather go to a Radiohead gig.” Matt says which earns a laugh from everyone, knowing how the hatred between the bands still hadn’t died out.

~*~*~*~

A month later you thought you were doing well. You were very careful around everyone after Alex told you about the questioning he got after the bar.

You were just normal with each other throughout the days, not overly interacting with each other. But when Alex’s eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder.

And it definitely helped that it was your job to take pictures of him. You could stare at him all day that way, even if it was through a camera lens.

Moments alone came when you’d stay in the bus when they went on nights out and Alex would venture back early meaning on nights like that, he actually got to give you goodnight kisses like he loved doing. Other moments took place when he would wander off at the multitude of festivals they were doing.

You’d say you were going getting pictures of different acts that no one else wanted to go watch. Alex would say he was going for a walk about 20 minutes later. Purely coincidence that you met up with him on his walk after you’d taken a photo or two.

Other times you snuck into each other's hotel rooms about an hour after you’d all gone your separate ways. But it was your nights in the hotels that you loved the most.

You got your privacy, and it was secure. The same as it was when he came to your house before the tour or when you went to his.

You loved being alone with him.

And tonight, all the other lads had gone out to a party somewhere and Alex had been faking an illness all day so he could stay in and they wouldn’t ask questions. They wouldn’t think it was weird you not going because you rarely went out with them.

They knew you valued your sleep too much.

So that was why you were alone in the back lounge with Alex tonight. And you’d honestly had one of the best nights being your normal cuddly selves.

You’d just watched a film with each other whilst being cuddled up on the sofa and you very nearly fell asleep in his embrace, but you weren’t wasting a full night alone with him. After the film you both went out and got yourselves a takeout from a place just down the road.

You made it into a full date night which was fucking adorable. After food, you coexisted normally for a little while, Alex letting you lean back against him whilst you edited your photos on your night off.

You were a pro at it after so many years, so it took no longer than an hour for the ones promotion wanted of them all. Alex was quite happily watching you edit the pictures of him and his friends as he absentmindedly played with your hair, placed random little kisses on your neck or on the back of your head, and at one point he even sang.

It was a really beautiful song, one that you’d only heard once before when he let you listen to the album when it was finished.

You only knew the title because he said it often in the song but having your boyfriend softly sing Mad Sounds into your ear as you worked you wished you could freeze time and appreciate it. His voice was amazing as everyone knew, but hearing it so close and so soft, it was hard to keep shivers from running down your spine.

“Such a beautiful song Al.” You smile closing your laptop as you’d finished what you needed to do and he’d finished singing.

You turn to him a bit more and he smiles back at you, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Like you then.” Alex grins before pressing his lips to yours.

You smile into the kiss as the comment was very adorable of him, but when you pulled back bullying was in order, “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.” Alex grins as you get up and put your laptop away, but you grab your small Lumix camera and come to sit back down.

You grin as you come and sit back down, this time straddling his lap so you could get a few close ups of him looking cute. You bring the viewfinder up to your eye and once you see his adorable smile on the other side of the lens you capture the perfection.

“I do.” You grin back at him.

You like that Alex never shies away from you when you have a camera in your hand. You knew after this much time that he trusted you with what you were capturing, especially in these moments together they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else.

“However…” You say, putting the camera down for a moment, “Me and your music are nothing alike.”

Alex frowns at you a little then, his hands running up your thighs, pulling you a little closer, “I think a certain track and our text message history would claim otherwise.”

You roll your eyes then knowing he was talking about Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? But when he grins at your eye roll you quickly snap another picture of him.

“I guess I shouldn't have got involved with a lyricist if I didn't want songs about me, should I?” You ask with a knowing smirk as you pull the camera away from your face.

You don’t bother checking it on the screen as it pops up, you already knew it would be a good picture. Not because you took it, but because it was of him and he was happy.

“No, probably not.” Alex chuckles as he takes the camera from you before raising it to take one of you.

You give him a pointed look after the photograph and joke, “You better hope you get to release your B-sides before Matt catches on.”

“I’ll be murdered, I have no doubt.” Alex grins and you burst out laughing at him being dramatic.

Alex thinks you look gorgeous though, so he raises your camera back up and you let him, not having a problem with him taking your picture. You smile at first but after he gets the first picture, he keeps looking through the viewfinder so you then puff your cheeks out jokingly and move closer to the camera.

Alex chuckles from behind it and he moves the camera from his face so you can both giggle together. He steals a kiss from you which you gladly accept, and you can't help but bite your lip afterwards.

He just looked so good. His skin was flawless these days and the fact that all of his fair wasn’t around his face anymore made his stunning jawline stand out. His brown eyes that were usually always hidden by sunglasses were shining brightly and the smile on his lips really showed how happy he was.

And seeing him happy made you happy. You could safely say you truly loved him. You’d do anything to keep you both as happy as you are now.

Whilst you’re deep in thought, Alex raises your camera back up to his eye which breaks your daydreaming about his features and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Smile for me Angel.” He asks and you do for one shot because he is pretty cute and pretty impossible not to smile at.

“Beautiful.” Alex confirms when he quickly looks down at the screen seeing the picture, he just caught of you.

“Like you then.” You use his own words against him with a playful smile.

Alex then puts your camera down to the side and with his newly free hand he cups the back of your neck and mumbles a ‘very good’ before bringing you in for a kiss. Playful and sweet were the only ways to describe it.

You just adored this alone time with him, sitting on his lap at the back bus, which was usually a very crowded area for you all to use, and you were kissing each other like it was just yesterday you got together. Everything still felt just as exciting and new and you never wanted his lips off yours.

You loved that it was you who got to run your fingers through his hair and pull on it when you wanted a kiss to carry on longer, like you just did. You loved the way his large hands held your hips, keeping you close to him.

But mostly you loved that he was always wanting affection. You’d not been in a relationship for a very long time so it made you nervous initially but there was something about Alex that you craved, and his affection was definitely one of those things that you were addicted to now.

You never wanted moments like these to end. But of course, that wouldn’t be realistic.

“I fucking knew it!”

You both pull away from each other to see Jamie with his jaw agape by the door. And your heart dropped to the ground.

“Jamie.” Alex says before Jamie can run out of the room.

“Oh I can’t fucking believe it.” He says, still stood there with his jacket in his hand but he looks like his whole world has ended. “I’ve gotta go get Matt.”

The panic in you rises then and you practically just off Alex’s lap and grab your intruders’ arm before he can turn back, “Jamie no, don’t.” You plead, pulling on his arm to come into the room.

He turns back towards you then and he lets himself be pulled into the room. His head is still baffled though which leads him to say rather loudly, “You’re shagging, aren’t you?”

Your eyes go wide at the volume of his voice and you scorn, “Jamie.” quietly as you pull him further into the room so you can shut the door once more.

His eyes go wide impossibly wider though and he gasps, “You are!” looking from you to Alex who was still sat down.

“Matt is going to fucking murder you.” Jamie chuckles looking Alex dead in the eye as you ensure that no one else is on the bus by looking down through the bunks (thankfully all the curtains were still open) to the front lounge and you saw no one down the other end.

“Jamie please don’t start.” You hear Alex say, evidently not wanting this to get out of hand.

You close the door and turn around to the still very shocked man and say, “I’ll explain just please shut up and sit down.”

So you did explain that you’d been seeing each other for months. Jamie was shocked because he only started to suspect something a month into the tour.

But after he’d let the information sink in, it wasn’t really so shocking anymore. Which is why you’d got onto the conversation of why it was still a secret after you’d been going out for months.

“You know he’d be fine.” Jamie tells you, sitting down opposite you both, trying to persuade you to tell Matt. “He wouldn’t actually kick off, you can both do what you like.”

“It’s not really just about Matt.” You tell him honestly from your point of view. “It’s about all of you making jokes and shit for months. I didn’t want that.”

“Y/N we wouldn’t do that.” Jamie says leaning towards the both of you from the other sofa, but you’re having none of it.

“Cookie you’re the worst one for it.” You say with a pointed look.

You then point to Alex, who you were sitting beside now and say, “I remember what you were like with him and Arielle.”

And it was a lot. They joked about it all the time to start with, and it was annoying for you, let alone Alex and her.

“Him and Arielle were different.” Jamie states, a little on the defensive side, but then he follows it up with, “You don’t make funny videos for a living, I actually respect you a hell of a lot for putting up with us.”

You shake your head and tell the tipsy, but now definitely more sober man, “You’re not that bad.”

“Oh, we are.” Jamie says and you laugh because you were just being polite.

They could be a handful sometimes if you were telling the truth. But you wouldn’t change anything about any of them. You loved them all because of who and how they were, and they were all your family.

Jamie follows up with, “I'm genuinely surprised you actually want to go out with him after knowing what he’s like.”

You giggle at that and just pout as you joke, “I know, but you’re taken Cookie, so I went for the next best thing.”

“Hey” Alex scoffs, looking towards you, pretending to be offended.

You and Jamie just laugh at him though, and you intertwine your fingers when you grab Alex’s hand to hold as a little apology. You’d be sure to actually swear to him that you were joking later though.

Jamie notes the gesture and he can see the little knowing smiles on your faces and his heart melts a bit for the both of you. You were both pretty cute with each other to be fair and the more that Jamie had been playing detective about it he thought that the two of you would be a pretty good match.

So he was genuinely happy for the both of you.

“And as for the jokes…” Jamie continues, causing the two of you to look back around at him. But Jamie looks at you as he says, “If it upset you, you know I wouldn't do it”

“I don’t mind the odd joke about me sucking his dick or whatever, but I’ll go crazy if that's all I hear about for the next year.” You tell him honestly.

You could handle jokes, it wasn’t anything new. They joked about your first boyfriend to Matt for the longest time and had done each time you got a new one.

You could take a joke. But not 24/7 like this tour would promise it would.

“Okay, never say that again.” Jamie pleads, the shocked look not coming off his face, but you and Alex just laugh at his reaction.

His head goes into his hands for a moment but afterwards he looks at you both and says, “Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about, joke wise, until I get comfortable with this dynamic because that was strange coming from your mouth.”

“You’ve heard me say worse than that, surely?” You ask, very amused by his discomfort.

Jamie just blankly says, “Not about Alex… And you’re practically my sister.”

“Sorry Cookie. I’ve got a right to say rude jokes about my boyfriend when I want to. He can say ones about me but from your reaction I don’t think you want him to.”

He then looks Alex dead in the eye and begs, “Please don’t.”

You both just end up laughing.

~*~*~*~

You decided after that night that you would think about being more open to telling Matt about everything that was going on. Thankfully Jamie was quite respectful of the whole thing and actually kept your secret.

He didn’t make things awkward for you both either, if anything he helped you both out a lot. Sometimes when you were out with them Jamie would keep the others entertained so you could escape with Alex for a little bit on a ‘fag break’ which would consist of stolen kisses.

Other times when you were all out, Jamie would lowkey guilt trip Alex into going back with you early so no one asked questions which you loved him even more for.

During this month that Jamie knew though, you’d been trying to come up with a way to tell Matt. Because you weren’t stupid, you knew this couldn’t go on for much longer.

Each time you tried to tell him though something would happen which meant that you didn’t. Once you froze, unable to tell him because you just genuinely didn’t know how to.

It wasn’t exactly something that you could drop on him and expect him to be fine with. Your nerves probably didn’t help but other times when you worked up the courage to do it, other things would go wrong.

Matt was in a foul mood one of the times, so that was a no go. Miles and Nick came in and interrupted another time before you got the words out and it was like a never ending series of unfortunate events that stopped you.

Alex had politely offered to do it after a few failed attempts but you said that you’d be more comfortable doing it. Partly because you thought that you should be the one to tell your brother and partly because you knew Matt wouldn’t hit you.

But there had been multiple failed attempts since then so you thought that you may actually make it to the end of the summer festivals at this rate.

It was nearing the end of August now and you were all staying in a hotel again tonight as you’d got to the city they were performing in the day before the show. You were pleased because it meant another night in with Alex so after you’d all had your dinner downstairs you’d given him your spare key card for your room so he could come to you whenever he liked.

Alex told you that he was looking forward to using it and he was excited to spend another night with you. It warmed your heart hearing that and when he rang you at 9:30 saying he was just running to the shop to grab the both of you some snacks, he said he’d let himself in about 20 minutes when he got back.

And that is why you were a little surprised when there was knocking on the door about 10 minutes later. You thought that was fast for a start but you gave him the key card so you wouldn’t have to get up and answer the door.

“Come in!” You shout across the room hoping he would hear you.

It seems that he does but his muffled response is, “It’s locked.” when the handle doesn’t budge.

You roll your eyes and mumble, “That’s why I gave you a key.” under your breath as you get up off your bed and head to the door.

And you’re about to scorn him but when the door opens you don’t find your boyfriend. You find your brother.

“Hey.” Matt says, stepping into your room after the door opens.

You’re shocked by his presence but try and act as calm as possible when you say, “Hey, you alright?”

Thank fuck you were still dressed. And thank fuck Alex wasn’t already here because you didn’t want him to find out like that.

But then you realised he’d be here in 10 minutes or so. And that made you want to get Matt out as quickly as possible.

“I’m fine, are you?” Your brother asks once he picks up the complimentary chocolate that the hotel had put on your bed which you were saving for later.

Any other night you would have ripped the shit out of him for coming in and doing that but now was not the time. You were borderline panicking as you were about to be caught out. But you try and disguise that as best as possible.

“Yeah, great thanks.” But really you’re just thinking, Shit.

Your brother asks you, “What do you have planned for tonight?”

Thinking on your feet all you can come up with is, “Just editing more pictures.”

“Fancy blowing it off and watching Netflix with me?” Matt questions and you all of a sudden feel really guilty that you want him to leave as much as you do.

You pull a little bit of a face at his question and try to carry on your lie, “Oh, I would but I’m honestly not feeling all that great after tea, so I was just gunna get an early night after I’ve done a few more pictures.”

“Funny that.” Your brother states when you turn away from him to grab your laptop from your bag as he sits himself down at the end of your bed.

You move towards the little desk that was in the room though and ask, “What is?”

“Alex isn’t feeling too well either.”

Well shit. You were too alike for your own good, coming up with the same excuses without telling the other.

“Oh?” You question, shitting it at this point, so you just open up your MacBook to distract you. “Maybe it was something we ate downstairs?”

All your brother replied was, “Doubt that because I had the same thing as you both.”

You choose no response as your best response and just continue to pull up a picture of Matt you hadn’t finished editing on photoshop yet. Being creative always eased your nerves so hopefully him watching you edit a picture of him would distract him.

“Y/N.” Matt says, trying to gain your attention.

You instead just carry-on messing with the photograph and suggest, “Maybe you should go check on our friend bro, could be being sick for all we know. Wouldn’t make for the prettiest show tomorrow”

“Y/N…” Matt says once more, and you know he wants you to look at him.

So you do and you see your brother sat on the end of your bed, looking at you. He asks in a serious yet calm tone, “Is Alex really ‘just a friend’ anymore?

Well. You guess you didn’t have to find a way to tell him anymore.

You sigh and shake your head, “No.” and as you close your laptop you tell the truth, “He’s a lot more.”

Matt can tell you’re serious straight away just by the way you were looking at him. And it makes him shake his head a bit in disbelief. He says calmly but in a tone that worries you, as he also runs a hand through his hair, “I knew it.”

“Please don’t be angry Matt.” You all but beg as you turn in your chair towards him more. “It’s my fault we didn't tell you sooner... I didn’t want things to be different with the group, so I was the one who wanted to keep it a secret.”

“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” Matt has to ask you, feeling awful that you felt like you couldn’t tell him something. “I just want you to be happy... Al’s practically family so of course I want the same for him.”

“I know, I’m really sorry…” You trail off for a second, “It just got to a point where I didn’t know how to tell you and when I tried to things always got in the way.”

Matt nods completely understanding that. At least you wanted to tell him.

“When did it start?” Is the question Matt asks you next.

“New Year’s Day” You say quickly before wincing a little, hearing that it has been 8 months out loud.

You felt so bad.

Matt is shocked by that news too, “That long...? Really?”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling awful, “I’m sorry.”

Matt ends up asking you a few more questions after that which were pretty much big brother sort of questions, making sure Alex was treating you right and stuff like that. Thankfully this had all gone very plain sailing and Matt was happy for you like you both knew he would be.

And he had forgiven you for not telling him for so long too which was a big relief. It felt like a massive weight off your shoulders.

So much so that you had to get up off your seat and give him a hug. Matt stood up for the embrace, so you got to hug him properly and it was such a lovely warm hug that you felt like you hadn’t had in such a long time.

Halfway through that long hug though, both you and Matt hear the door to your room unlock. You press your lips together and wince a little knowing exactly what is about to happen.

“Hey Y/N/N.” You hear Alex say from somewhere behind you and you let go of Matt and both of you look towards Alex now closing the door, not yet noticing the situation.

After he closes the door though, he begins to say before he turns towards you, “I got you thes- oh”

Matt smiles though seeing your favourite flowers in his best friend’s hand. You can’t help but smile at the sight of them too, and his face falling realising Matt was here was a little funny too.

He looked a little scared.

“I’m glad you’re treating her right Al.” Matt tells him, and Alex struggles with his words for a second and he looks to you for help.

“I just told him.” You nod confirming it out loud for him.

Alex’s eyes go from you back to his best mate then and he starts, “Listen Matt, I’m sor-”

But Matt interrupts, “No no I don’t need an apology.” He shakes his head, “Just don’t fuck it up.” He then looks between the both of you, “Either of you... Because that would make for a really awkward tour.”

You smile at that and say, “I don’t plan on doing, and I know he doesn’t either.”

Matt grins at you then and he looks back to Alex and takes a few steps towards him. He points a finger to his chest and says very seriously, “Make her cry Turner, and I'll castrate you.”

Alex slowly nods, “Noted”

Matt must then break into a grin because Alex does too, and your brother then heads over to the door.

Matt turns back towards you and says, “Have a nice night love birds.” and walks out with a grin and he shuts the door behind him.

Both you and Alex stay silent for a second looking at the door almost in disbelief that the thing you’d both waited 8 months to do, was now over. Alex turns around to look at you and you’re both just awkwardly smiling at each other.

Alex puts the plastic bag filled with snacks down on the table he was standing beside and says, “Well you could have pre warned me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know he was coming. But he asked me to watch Netflix with him and apparently I gave the same excuse as you.”

“Oh fuck. Clever, aren’t we?” Alex chuckles a little and you nod in response.

Alex holds up the flowers he got for you and you can’t help but smile, “Well, I was hoping to surprise you with these, but you definitely won on the surprise front tonight.”

You giggle at that and you lean up to kiss him after taking the flowers from him, “Thank you my love.”

You briefly put them down whilst you say, “At least we don’t have to stay away from each other anymore.”

“Never going to let you go now Darling.” Alex chuckles before picking you up in a hug and spinning you around. You can’t help but giggle.

The next morning you both ventured downstairs to have breakfast with the others and found that they were all there waiting for you at your table with knowing looks. You and Alex just had grins on your faces knowing Matt would have gone around and told them all before you even got the chance.

They were all of course happy for you but of course you got some jokes and some questions. Jamie had got a bit used to it now, so he was starting with his jokes in private to you but when you sat down, he asked the both of you, “Suck his dick last night?”

“Wow, you’ve been waiting for that one, haven’t you?” You laugh, sitting yourself down next to him, immediately reaching for the menu so you could see what was on offer for breakfast.

The table obviously all laughed, and it was all fun and playful as you imagined it would be. You were glad Matt wasn’t cringing at all the details that you were giving out, as it was things like how far back moments happened, like when Alex asked you out officially and stuff like that.

All of the lads seemed really happy for you and even some of your other friends that were a part of the crew were shocked but buzzing for you. Alex got loads of people saying, ‘You better treat her right’ which made you laugh a lot.

But thankfully it was business as usual, just with the addition of getting to hold his hand and kiss him the odd time when you wanted. You’d rather most of your affection be in private though so not much had really changed on the social front.

Even when you were trying to be discrete about it, you didn’t find it too hard because you were still just the same Y/N and Alex. You’d been friends for years, so the dynamic shift wasn’t all that drastic.

You both were just the same friends that you could walk next to each other and it just be normal. You didn’t have to be touching each other all the time, you’d go walk with Miles or Nick and just go spend time with Alex every now and then.

You were glad that things never felt too different.

You guess the only thing that marginally was different was the first night back on the bus after you’d been staying in the hotel. You were all heading to bed and when you came out of the bathroom after changing, you headed to your own bunk, but then realised you didn’t actually need to.

Alex’s bunk was the top bunk in the middle, so you walked right past your own and straight to his. He was just in his boxers like most of the lads usually were when they slept on this bus.

“Hey.” You say with a big smile.

“Hey.” Alex grins, his messy hair almost falling into his eyes. He makes you smile when he says, “Was just about to come kiss you”

“Vile.” You hear Miles gag from the bunk directly below and you look down at him and frown.

“Miles, he kisses you... What are you on about?” You question, not understanding.

They were literally always touchy feely with each other which you thought was cute and adorable. They’d always been great mates and were close enough to actually perform together using one microphone.

So it made you laugh when Alex lent down over his bunk to say, “Little offended there mate.” to his friend.

Nick bursts out laughing at your backchat and Alex’s hurt and you chuckle along before you glance back to your boyfriend. Once his head was the right way up again you smile at him.

“I can join you for the night now, right?” You ask him and you love the smile that comes to his lips.

He nods, “Course you can.”

So Alex shuffles back in the bunk, enough for you to comfortably jump up and once you lay beside him you can’t stop grinning. It definitely felt weird to be in a bunk with him for everyone to see but it definitely makes you happy, even if it was a tight squeeze.

“Hi” You grin at him as he’s on his side, his back pressed to the wall of the bunk, looking down on you.

“Hey beautiful.” Alex says before he leans down and kisses you.

You of course kiss him back but after a second you quickly part so you can reach down to the curtain and pull it closed. You doubt that Nick wanted to watch from the bunk opposite.

As soon as your lips were back attached to Alex’s though you hear Nick whisper shout to everyone, “It’s starting!”

If your eyes were open, you would have rolled when but you just try to keep the smile off your lips, so you don’t ruin the kiss. And thankfully you both controlled yourselves enough to hold your smiles so you could indulge in a very nice kiss.

“If I hear anything come from that bunk, you don’t want to know what will happen.” Matt calls out loudly and you break apart from the kiss to laugh.

It seems like everyone else found it comical too, but it was even funnier when Jamie asked him, “What are you gunna do? Cry?”

“Fuck off Cookie.” Your brother says back, and you chuckle at that too.

You and Alex keep your curtain closed as the rest of them chat away and you get yourselves comfortable in the bunk. You are basically cuddled together in the bunk, with the duvet over you both, you still on your back and Alex tucked into your neck as he lay on his side.

You were glad you didn’t feel like you were about to roll out of the bunk, so it definitely made sense you were that way around. That and Alex quite liked to pick his head up every few minutes and trap you in another kiss.

A trap you certainly didn’t mind.

Usually when you all got in your bunks, curtains would stay open as you would all chat to each other and one by one curtains would close until you were all knackered and pass out until the next day. So, it wasn’t a shock that tonight you were all talking for quite a while, you and Alex just chatting to each other quietly in your bunk, liking the privacy that the curtain provided.

But after about 15 minutes someone shouted your name, popping yours and Alex’s bubble.

“Y/N?” You hear Jamie call you.

You smile knowing a joke was bound to come your way and respond, “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a question for you.” He informs and you can practically hear him smiling.

You grin at Alex and shout back to Jamie, “Okay, go on.”

“You know because you’re a photographer... Does that mean you take pictures of you and Alex in the bedroom?” Jamie asks teasingly and your immediately roll your eyes, but it doesn’t stop you from playing along.

“Shit.” You say jokingly loud, “How do they know?” You scorn Alex jokingly and he’s just silently laughing.

“Matt.” You call and joke, “Maybe don’t go through that SD card tomorrow.”

Earlier on he asked to see some of the pictures after the gig tonight and you said he could look through them before you started editing them tomorrow.

“I’ll burn it” Matt says back, and you just start silently giggling.

“What are you both up to in there?” You both hear Nick ask.

Alex says in a teasing voice, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Both of you have another few kisses in the time between those jokes and the next time you were heckled. But you were just cuddled when they next started joking.

“They are very quiet up there.” You both hear Miles say.

You shake your head and Alex sighs a little as you hear the rest of them chuckle.

“You doing good? You getting it up, Al?” Miles asks and you both feel him punch the top of his bunk, subsequently the bottom of yours.

You aren’t surprised when Alex doesn’t grace him with an answer.

“Very quiet indeed.” Nick laughs, more than likely looking down at Miles so they could share a laugh.

Jamie seems to jump in then with, “They are definitely biting their tongues.”

“Fuck off all of you.” Matt gets defensive but that just makes it comical.

You decided to upset your brother then by pretending to be annoyed when you scorn them, “You’re all really ruining the mood.”

Alex chuckles at that then, even though you weren’t doing anything. That is what made it funnier to him though.

“Sorry, do you need silence for Alex to get you off.” Jamie asks and it makes you roll your eyes at the question.

You reply, “No.” as an idea comes to mind.

“So you don't mind us carrying on talking then?” Miles asks teasingly. You can practically hear the smirk.

You backchat with, “Not if yous don't mind some noises too?”

“Fire away Hun.”

You brother almost shouts in distress, “No don’t. Both of you stay very fucking quiet.”

Jamie defends you both then, “Oh right so it’s alright when you and Breana fuck but when it’s Alex and Y/N you’re suddenly a prude.”

An argument starts out then with Matt defending himself and then Jamie defending you and so on and then it becomes a big thing. But you find it quite funny that Matt is getting annoyed, so you decide to make your own joke too.

“Al” You whisper, and he looks up at you for you to ask him, “Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?”

“Yeah, I watched it with you on the last tour.” He whispers back, reminding you.

You remember him doing now. You’d all had a movie night on the bus during the Suck It And See tour and because you were a little depressed they let you choose the film and you chose that one because it made you laugh.

“Okay, good.” You smirk knowing exactly what you were about to do.

Your boyfriend doesn’t yet get it though, so he asks in a whisper, “Why?”

“Alex” You say a bit louder, a smile you couldn’t hold back drawing to your face.

“What babe?” He asks you and you have to close your eyes, so you don’t break and start laughing.

You try to make your voice sound sultrier and you fake moan louder, “Oh god.”

At that though the boys arguing dies down as Alex whispers, “What are you doing?”

You hold your laugh and, “Alex.” falls from your lips in a breathy moan. And it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Y/N, fuck off.” You hear your brother shout, clearly not amused.

You however come straight back with a very load moan of, “Alex fuck.”

“Matt I’m not touching her.” Alex shouts and you open your eyes to see Alex propped up to the side of you, looking at you like he was scared.

You don’t give it a second thought before you gasp even louder, “Right there Al”

You can hear Miles cackling below you both and you don’t let up with the moans you’re making despite wanting to laugh too. Next you raise your hand up to the ceiling of the bunk as if you’re using it to brace yourself, “Fuck.”

“Oh my god, don’t stop.” You plead in a desperate way as you look to your mortified boyfriend.

“Y/N shut up.” Alex whispers, but it just makes you carry on more.

The fake moans fall from you lips, filling the bunks with your pleads and gasps. Alex is still mortified, but the laughter coming from Jamie, Nick, and Miles just fuels you on.

You go fully Sally Albright on them. A series of loud moans leave your lips like:

“Yes Alex yes!”

“Faster.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t stop!”

Alex shouts over your loud voice, “Matt, I fucking swear I’m not touching her!”

The way you moan, “Fuck Al” seems to just dismiss what Alex said straight away though.

“Stop!” Matt shouts back, obviously angry now.

You immediately contradict in a fake moan, “Don’t stop!”

“Alex!” You all but scream as you bang on the ceiling of the bunk again a few times.

You go to take it a step further, but you’re apparently not allowed, “Fuck, Alex plea-”

Your boyfriend puts his hand over your mouth so you can’t carry on. However, you just start dramatically fake moaning, and it sounds a lot dirtier because his hand is over your mouth.

You carry on until you get a rise out of Matt despite Alex pleading with you to stop with a scared look on his face. But you know your brother was about to stop so you just looked at your boyfriend’s gorgeous brown eyes and carried on.

And before you know it Matt is swearing getting himself out of his bunk and the curtain of yours is practically ripped open. As soon as you see sight of your brother you stop the fake moans completely as if it never happened.

Alex holds both his hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint. Matt can quite clearly see you're fully clothed and have a massive shit eating grin on your face.

“Damn that was good, thanks Al.” You joke to your boyfriend but you’re looking at your brother.

Matt holds up a finger at you and warns, “You’re on very thin ice right now.”

He looks angry and embarrassed all at once. He’s bright red but looks absolutely fuming so you can’t stop your laugh.

You giggle questioning, “Why because you know your best mate can fuck your sister?”

Jamie bursts out laughing at that and you crumble into a louder laugh.

“Stop it.” Alex gasps, playfully hitting your shoulder once again looking petrified as he glanced from you to your brother.

“I don’t need to hear whatever that was.” Matt scorns you and you’re very quick to give him some backchat.

“Did you just admit to us all that you’ve never given Bre an orgasm? Because if you don’t know what those sounds were then I feel sorry for her.” You joke back trying to be cocky.

Jamie’s laugh echoes through the bus and you can hear Miles cackling from below. You could see Nick gasping for breath in a fit of laughter and Alex gasps in shock from beside you.

“You need to fuck off Y/N.” Matt gives you one more death glare before he stalks back to his bunk.

“Oh pull the drum stick out your arse!” You say getting a little annoyed at how your brother couldn’t take a joke. “You better hope our hotel rooms are never next to each other.”

“Shut the fuck up. I won’t tell you again.” Matt says as he gets back into his bunk and shuts his curtain in a strop.

“Aw…” You pout turning back to Alex in your bunk. You give him a quick kiss and then joke, “Better save the next orgasm for the next hotel Darling.”

“I’m begging you to stop talking.” Alex shakes his head, still looking at you a little shocked that you’d actually done what you just had.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Matt.” You giggle, and you say louder so the bus can hear you, “He’s not that scary... Just gotta bring up the time he shat himself when we were in the bat house in Chester Zoo and he quietens right down.”

You all hear Matt shout, “Fuck off!”

You and everyone else on the bus, bar Matt, started laughing then and you were still giggling away when you cuddled yourself into your boyfriend's body. Jamie and Miles begin to applaud you during their continued laughter which just makes your giggles difficult to silence.

Alex is still half shocked as he cuddled you into him, loving your humour but not actually believing you just faked an orgasm that loud on a tour bus surrounded by all your mates and your brother. He shakes his head and kisses the top of yours before telling you, “You’re gunna be the death of me.”

“Least it’ll be a fun death.” You joke and Alex laughs.

“You’re right.” Alex chuckles when you look up at him. You're grinning like an idiot and Alex tells you, “I love you, you psycho.”

“Love you too, weirdo.” You grin and proceed to kiss him sweetly.

After the kiss though you actually want to go to sleep in your boyfriend's arms peacefully. So despite Nick, Miles, and Jamie all still chuckling away, you turn back towards the curtain to redraw it and as you do you catch Jamie’s eye.

You wink at him before drawing the curtain and Jamie wolf whistles, which has you and Alex giggling away together as you cuddle yourself into him once more. You kiss Alex once more before playfully calling out to the others who were still laughing, “Night boys”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thank you for reading x

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nriacc · 3 years

Text

Nothing Revealed in a Common Crisis ~ Teaser

Here’s a teaser of Part 1 of NRIACC ~ Only Ones Who Know.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: You all finally get the teaser ahhhhh!!! We are so excited to finally start sharing content with you! We would love to hear what you think of it so far once you’ve read the teaser and we’d love to hear your theories on what you think is going to happen. Really hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading x

Part 1 will be out in full, May 21st 2021

An @imagine-that-100 and @ghostlightqueen collaboration.

| N’s Masterlist | Dot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist (Coming Soon) |

~*~*~*~ July 2003 ~*~*~*~

“Excuse me, can you pull over please?” You ask loudly after practically leaning over Alex who sat directly behind the driver of the black taxi.

The driver nods his head and begins to reduce his speed after you asked him that through the perspex that separated him from the rest of you.

“Thank you,” You tell the driver, before getting out of Alex’s personal space and sitting back down next to the disgusting couple that were getting off beside you.

Thank god you weren’t too far away from home now.

Alex asks you with wide eyes, “Why’d you do that? What’s happening?”

You look at the brunette who looked like he felt more uncomfortable about being seated backwards than Matt getting off with the random girl beside you.

Alex was meant to be staying at Matt’s house tonight after their gig and the night out you’d had afterwards. But in the pub Matt had gotten lucky and the girl wanted to go home with him.

You living two roads away from Matt Helders meant that you always shared taxis home with him but tonight was just insufferable. And you weren't going to let Alex suffer through it once you parted ways, either.

“You’re staying at mine. I’m not leaving you with that,” You inform Alex, looking over to Matt sticking his tongue down the random girl's throat.

The more you looked at Matthew and the blonde the more you wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle. Hands were beginning to roam now, too, and you didn’t want to be in their vicinity any longer.

It would be very unfair of you to leave Alex in their presence. Especially when you had your whole house to yourself and you were only round the corner from where he was originally meant to be staying.

“What about your Mum?” Alex asks, concern on his face as the taxi slows.

“She’s away for the weekend so it’s fine. House is empty,” You assure him as you open the door once the red light has gone off.

Both you and Alex get out of the taxi but before you close the door you pull a £10 note out of your pocket for your share of the taxi fare.

“Matt, you’re disgusting but here’s a tenner,” You say throwing the money at him.

Matt nods at you when he takes a quick break from the blonde. You shake your head at him trying not to smile at the cocky bastard.

You hear Alex tell the driver, “Then to the original address please mate” when you close the black door.

You’re more than thankful to see the taxi drive away. You didn’t want to endure anymore of that disgusting PDA.

Both you and Alex breathe a sigh of relief when you’re just in each other’s presence again. You’re glad to see the taxi’s lights disappear from sight down the long road.

“They’re vile,” Alex sighs before lighting up a cigarette.

“I was ready to jump out the taxi but the red light were on,” You tell him truthfully with a little chuckle.

You both walk in silence for a few minutes, just smoking and both reminiscing about the night you’d just had.

Alex and the lads had a gig in a venue in town where your friendship group had all gone to support him. You were always really close with them all, your little group always meeting up after high school and now most days after college.

But now it was summer and the group could meet up more often which was great. And whilst you were still in Sheffield, you would be making the most of every group event.

So when Matt suggested going out on the pull to a club after the gig, you were all up for it. However, the night didn’t go to plan.

You were in the queue for the club for about half an hour and then when half of you got in, the bouncers stopped Alex and asked for his ID.

This obviously put an end to that idea because most of you were all 17 except for Nick and Jamie. So it was lucky that those of you who got in actually did.

But once one of you had been stopped you all didn’t have a chance then. Alex tried to back chat the bouncers which didn’t really go down well, so you ended up shouting everyone back outside.

You didn’t abandon your mates. If one of you couldn’t get in, you all wouldn’t be going in.

Alex was pissed off about it for a while until you all found a bar that was known for not IDing people to go in that wasn’t too far away. So his mood thankfully picked up when you all got there.

However it seemed like he was a bit down as you walked down the long roads towards your house.

So as you stubbed your cigarette bud out, you questioned him, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head, stuffing his hands in his zip up hoodies pockets after throwing what little was left of his fag to the ground.

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you only called him out again on it when he kicked a stone along the pavement in a huff.

“Alex, I’m being serious, what’s up?” You ask again, noting that his shoulders were hunched to.

He tried to brush you off again, this time saying, “Nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything you want, right?” You feel the need to remind him.

You’d known him since you were 3. If you desperately needed someone to turn to and the girls weren’t around Alex would more than likely be your go to.

“Not this,” Alex shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“It can’t be that bad,” You tell him.

Alex just shakes his head again, really not wanting to get into it with you because he didn’t think you’d understand. So this time he changes his answer to, “It’s not bad, it’s just embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than when I wet myself in primary school and you never let me forget about it?” You shake your head.

Alex laughs a little at that, finally looking toward you when he says, “Because it was funny.”

“I was five years old Alex, give me a fucking break,” You chuckle, attempting to defend yourself.

Both of you laugh at the memory of him bringing it up countless times over the years. He was such a teasing friend but you’d known him since you were toddlers so you would let him off.

You had enough embarrassing stories of him that you could bring up if you needed too.

“Come on,” You try again, “What’s up?”

This time you seem to get somewhere because Alex tells you, “I really just feel like shit.”

“Why?” You ask, sticking your bottom lip out a little. “I thought you had a good night?”

“I mean yeah sure, I had a good night with you, but that’s not what I mean,” Alex tells you, and when you don’t reply he looked round at you noticing you were waiting for him to continue.

He sighs when he just gives in and tells you, “I just mean I was hoping to get off with that girl in that green dress but it didn’t happen.”

Ah, you understood now.

“Didn’t get a pull, again,” Alex scorns himself before once again kicking the stone on the ground a lot harder this time.

You watched as it clattered it’s way down the darkened pavements and you nod understanding his words.

“Oh, yeah, I know what you mean,” You tell him honestly. “I was gutted about that too, that guy in that leather jacket was fit.”

Fit was the highest compliment you northerners would give people. You weren’t meaning it in an athletic sense but if you deemed someone as fit that meant that you found them very attractive.

Alex nods processing your words. He vaguely remembered you chatting to a guy in a leather jacket in the bar. But he’d had a few drinks since then so his memory was a tad hazy.

After a few seconds of silence between you, Alex just sighs, telling you his full truth, “I just feel like I’m behind...”

“You know what I mean... Like everyone else either goes home with someone or pulls them and does stuff in the club,” Alex lists off thinking back to previous nights out.

You nod, “Yeah and I hate it.”

“I hate it, too,” Alex agrees.

A thought whirls around your mind for a few moments, before you actually grow the balls to say it out loud, “I hate that I’m still a virgin.”

“Same.” Alex says in what seems like relief that you’d said it too.

Your friendship group was a close one. You all knew who’d been sleeping with who and who's single and who’s done things and who hadn’t.

It wasn’t a surprise to either of you what you were hearing the other say out loud.

If anything though it got a weight off both your chests.

“You know like I just don’t want the first time something happens to be someone fingering me in a club or something,” You laugh a little as you turn the corner onto another long road.

“Yeah, I get that,” Alex nods chuckling too.

Some of the stories that your friends told in the place you all went out was truly mental. But gossip was gossip and it spread like wildfire.

Alex continues showing his understanding with, “Like, you’re not necessarily after being in a relationship or whatever but you at least don’t want it to be a randomer.”

“Literally,” You nod, “I’m glad you get it.”

“Well you know... The same things go through my mind,” Alex tells you.

He’s just glad he’s not the only one feeling a bit left behind.

“What, getting fingered in a club?” You ask him playfully with a little laugh.

“Fuck off,” Alex laughs and nudges you to the side.

You both laugh for a second and once you’re next to him again he continues, “I just mean like I wanna just get things out of the way... Like I don’t want it to mean nothing, but I also don’t want to be completely shit at everything if I’m doing it with someone who I’m going to be in a relationship with.”

“Oh my god that’s literally it, isn’t it?” You nod, “Like I just feel like after the first times’ done and dusted, I could be a little slag then if I wanted to be... Because then I wouldn’t be scared of some wanker taking my virginity just to then fuck off.”

“Literally,” Alex smiles at you, understanding completely.

“Have you done anything?” You ask him after a few moments of silence. The only round to be heard was your footsteps.

“No,” Alex shakes his head before asking, “Have you?”

“No,” You offer him a sad smile.

Alex returns yours with his own and you both just walk down the road in a comfortable silence for a minute. You’re about 5 minutes away from your house now.

“I feel like you could write a sad song about us,” You say not wanting to get lost in your thoughts again.

“I wouldn’t wanna broadcast our lives like that,” Alex chuckles a tad, shaking his mop of brown hair.

You grin at him, “Very considerate of you.”

“Well you know, I’m a nice guy,” Alex smiles, his chocolate eyes looking at you.

You smile, “I know you are.”

“Gentleman really,” Alex adds in jest which makes you laugh.

“Pushing the boat out a bit there Al,” You chuckle before you both share a laugh.

A silence falls between you then as you both continue to walk down the road. Thoughts start forming in your mind then, you never really were a fan of silence because it gave you a chance to overthink and create some crazy ideas.

You then walk silently faster before turning towards him and stopping in front of him.

Alex stops walking too and looks at you curiously.

“What’s up?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask after building up a little confidence.

Alex’s frowns a little, “What?”

Where was this coming from?

“Can I kiss you... Like properly?” You ask, confidence shooting way down though when you see your friend is not so keen on the idea.

“Erm...” Alex trails off looking at you like you’ve gone mad.

Then you feel a bit stupid.

You shake your head, starting to turn back to start walking towards your house again. As you do, you begin to backtrack, “Just ignore me, I don’t know what I’m thin-“

Alex’s hand then grabs your wrist and whips you back around to face him. The brunette then takes a step towards you, cups the back of your neck, and attaches his lips to yours.

You’re a bit taken aback by his actions, despite you asking for it. But you quickly relax into the gesture.

Your hand that landed on his chest after him pulling you back around clutched at his hoodie as you got your bearings with each other. You bring your hand up to lace into his hair and as you do that Alex deepens the kiss.

He was almost hesitant at first when his tongue connected with yours. But after a second you both got more confident with it.

The night was a humid one so it meant that when the kiss started heating the both of you up, it got you both really hot and bothered. He was a really good kisser, something that you’d never really given much thought to before.

But as he was kissing you, you felt a giddy nervousness in your stomach. Something that made you crave him more.

And Alex seemed just as keen on you too, he was pulling you close to him. With one hand around your waist and the other still cupping your neck, keeping you in place.

His lips were soft against your own yet they moved at an increasing pace which you happily tried to keep up with. It was like you were both catching up for a night of failed attempts at a pull.

But you were finally getting it now. Your tongues were moving against each other’s in a way that screamed for the other to continue and never break apart.

When Alex’s fingers dig into your hips you pull the tiniest bit tighter on his hair as you hum into the kiss. You were really enjoying it, completely invested in it and his hold on you felt possessive in the best way.

It was like you were both kissing each other that frantically to make up for the lost time you’d had at the pub.

The kiss only stops because you’re startled away from each other by a car razzing it’s way down the street. The exhaust had obviously been tampered with to make it sound much louder than it was.

You pulled away a little shocked that you’d both just pulled each other like that in front of some random house around the corner from yours. You could hear the car that had just made you both jump over the sound of your own rapid heartbeat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: AHHHH WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!?!?! What do you think is going to happen???? Apologies for no Matty yet but he comes into it a little later. Don’t worry though, the whole story is equally balanced out. Really hope you all enjoyed it, can’t wait for you to read the full part on May 21st.

Let us know if you want to be added to the taglist x

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

Photo

In "Long Walk to Freedom", Nelson Mandela said:

"No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."

~~~~~

His tombstone has no name.

He was called "a man of a great many ethics, and very intense about his human rights beliefs, causes he could never put down."

Before his journey, however, he did and said things he would later regret.

He was born in 1943, two days after July 4th.

Growing up in a conservative environment on military bases in Georgia and South Carolina, he admitted he was a "white racist" and a homophobic.

“I spent most of my life putting others down,” he said.

He was part of the crowd shouting, "2 - 4 - 6 - 8, we don't want to integrate."

He said he "idolized the Confederate flag . . . [it was] a symbol of the past and the way things were and they should still be. Not necessarily slavery, but the white of white—the right of white oppression.”

He also subscribed to the myth that “to be gay it meant that I had to wear a woman’s dress, I had to molest little children, and I had to go in bathrooms and watch people.”

“I had a low self-image of myself. So if I could have someone who was lower than I was, the Black American… even . . . Jewish people in general . . . as long as I could put someone else down, then I wasn’t the lowest person on the totem pole. So I spent most of my life putting others down.”

“I’d use the word queer and fag*ot and put gays down,” he admitted.

~~~~~

"He followed his father’s footsteps into the Air Force in 1963 at the age of 19 and served three tours in Vietnam," according to writer David Roza in June 2021's Task and Purpose military news.

Despite the beliefs he grew up with, he became a hero.

He earned a Bronze Star for killing two Viet Cong soldiers attacking his post while he was on sentry duty, according to the Washington Post. He later earned a Purple Heart for being wounded after stepping on a Viet Cong land mine.

At that time, he still was wary of anyone different than him and still believed in the stereotypes he grew up with.

In the military, outside in the world, however, he started questioning his previous beliefs and those stereotypes.

He became friends with a Vietnamese interpreter and learned about other cultures.

He then became friends with a Black colleague.

After getting to know his Black friend, he told himself, “‘he’s different, he’s not like the rest.’ And then I met another Black who was different, not like the rest, and then another one who was different, not like the rest. Until I began to look around and see so many different individuals.”

He also started learning about himself.

"Over time, his bias against homosexuals began to fade, along with his bias against African-Americans, who he found himself serving alongside and taking orders from during his time in the Air Force," wrote Roza.

“One stereotype after another stereotype started to crumble,” he told The New York Times.

Learning about others led him to learn more about himself.

He realized he went to Vietnam to prove he was masculine, he said, but instead he became something more.

He found the courage to be himself.

He said he always knew, but had continued to deny it.

“In September 1975, a stunning issue of TIME magazine hit the newsstands,” according to writer Kay Tobin Lahusen. “On the cover was the photo of a young man wearing his Air Force uniform."

“I am a homosexual” read the title in bold under the airman’s uniformed portrait.

"His name tag said 'Matlovich'."

Leonard Matlovich.

The Peace Page has previously shared stories of Leonard Matlovich, but this story includes some rare insights, including words from Matlovich himself.

~~~~~

When Matlovich appeared in Time, “It marked the first time the young gay movement had made the cover of a major newsweekly,” according to author Randy Shilts in his 1993 book "Conduct Unbecoming", about discrimination against lesbians and gays in the military. “To a movement still struggling for legitimacy, the event was a major turning point.”

“Even the most hardened homophobe had to take pause when he reviewed Matlovich’s record,” Shilts wrote. “Credentials such as a Bronze Star, a Purple Heart, and twelve years of outstanding service meant something that civilians could barely imagine.”

Matlovich's media appearances had a big effect on America,” according to David Addlestone, a lawyer with the American Civil Liberties Union. "He was a patriotic, conservative middle-class war hero. He destroyed the popular myth of homosexuality."

Matlovich, the LGBTQ rights pioneer, was the first gay service member to purposely out himself to the military to fight their ban on gays, and perhaps the best-known openly gay man in the United States of America in the 1970s next to Harvey Milk.

He was “inspired and guided by gay rights pioneer Frank Kameny, who had been looking for a test court case to challenge the military’s ban on homosexuals," according to Making Gay History.

“He … was the epitome of a perfect soldier, one of those people that stuck his neck out, and he was proud to be the person to challenge that law,” Jeff Dupre, a longtime friend of Matlovich, told NPR in 2015.

He “was the kind of serviceman the air force prided itself on,” according to writer Naveena Kottoor.

When he finally came out, at the age of 30, he was warned that he would be throwing “away 13 years of military service and a pension", according to Addlestone.

When “an Air Force attorney asked him if he would sign a document pledging to ‘never practice homosexuality again’ in exchange for being allowed to remain in the Air Force,” he refused.

He replied that “he couldn't live a lie" any longer.

In October of 1975 - despite his exemplary military record, tours of duty in Vietnam, and high performance evaluations - Leonard Matlovich was ruled unfit for service and discharged, according to Back 2 Stonewall.

“In 1980 he finally won reinstatement, which he declined; the Air Force upgraded him to an honorable discharge,” according to "Gay Alternatives".

~~~~~

“Throughout American history, LGBTQ+ citizens have fought to defend our rights and freedoms -- from the Founding of our nation to the Civil War, from the trenches of two World Wars to Korea and Vietnam, and from Afghanistan to Iraq,” said Secretary of Defense Lloyd J. Austin III in the Opening Remarks at DOD Pride Month Event, June 9, 2021.

“They fought for our country even when our country wouldn’t fight for them . . . Even as some were forced to hide who they were… or to hang up their uniforms.”

~~~~~

Matlovich’s case inspired other enlisted gay and lesbian people to fight for their right to serve, including Navy officer Vernon E. “Copy” Berg, according to Making Gay History.

“Matlovich’s LGBTQ activism did not end with his court case. He lent his voice and influence to several battles against homophobia: Anita Bryant’s anti-gay crusade; California Proposition 6, which sought to ban gay and lesbian teachers from public schools.”

In June 1987, Matlovich was one of 64 demonstrators arrested protesting the White House’s AIDS policies,” according to the Washington Post.

“He also contributed to the founding of Affirmation, an affinity group for LGBTQ Mormons, and forced Northwest Airlines to end its discriminatory policy regarding passengers with AIDS.”

“Matlovich [is also] lovingly memorialized on the AIDS Quilt."

In June 2019, Matlovich was one of the inaugural 50 American “pioneers, trailblazers, and heroes” inducted on the National LGBTQ Wall of Honor within the Stonewall National Monument (SNM) in New York City’s Stonewall Inn, the first U.S. national monument dedicated to LGBTQ rights and history, and the wall’s unveiling was timed to take place during the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

~~~~~

Matlovich said that his fight was inspired by Dr, Martin Luther King, Jr. whose portrait he had in his home.

"He explicitly gave credit to the black Civil Rights Movement, and Martin Luther King Jr. specifically, for giving him more courage to understand that gays were a minority group and they had not just the right, but the obligation to fight for their own rights," said Michael Bedwell, Matlovich's best friend and estate executor.

Dr. Martin Luther King said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere", which his widow Coretta Scott King reminded everyone of, when she spoke out for gay rights.

In an interview with Studs Terkel, Matlovich said, "the debt I owe to Black Americans, and probably the debt that America owes to Black Americans, probably will never be repaid. Because they have shown us that through perseverance and determination, the laws can be changed, and attitudes can be changed.”

It inspired him to be a race relations counselor, easing racial tensions in the service.

"He was brilliant at it," said Bedwell. "At his discharge hearing, one of his supervisors that was African-American testified he was one of best race relations instructors they had."

Some of his strongest supporters were Black.

"Out of the 20-some witnesses that came on my behalf, there were three white witnesses and about 19 Black," Matlovich said. "And it seemed—to me, it was a little shameful to me that, I remember back in my white racist days, that the very individuals who I put down came to my aid when I needed it the most. I guess people can forgive and forget, and people can change . . . You’re never too old to change and to become enlightened and to change."

~~~~~

Matlovich said the most difficult part of his journey was having to tell his parents, especially his father.

“He cried when he first heard about it. It’s, it’s hard to have a child that’s gay in America today because they are so discriminated against.”

But, in the end, he supported his son, saying, “If he can take it. I can.”

The picture attached to this story from Making Gay History is 19-year-old Leonard Matlovich, center, at his Air Force induction, May 1963. At right is his father, Air Force veteran Leonard C. Matlovich. Credit: Courtesy of the Matlovich Family.

~~~~~

“Just to love and be loved, I think is very, very beautiful,” Matlovich said. “And that parents growing up today will give our little children guns, and we are very proud of them when they play Cowboys and Indians and run around. But when they show emotions and, and love. . . people get uptight, and they’re so afraid that their child may, may love. It’s very sad.”

Growing up and realizing he was gay, he said in an interview with the New York Times in 1975:

"I cried. I wept, hoping it would change. I believed absolutely that homosexuality was terrible and degrading."

In the interview with Terkel, he said:

“Jesus said that you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free. And I believe that truth is who you are and what you are. And once you know those things, you are set free. And once you can accept who you are and what you are, then you can love others. You can’t love others until you love yourself, and as long as you hate yourself you’re gonna hate others.”

In his last public speech before he died, Matlovich tearfully said, “I want you to look at the flag, our rainbow flag, and I want you to look at it with pride in your heart, because we too have a dream. And what is our dream? Ours is more than an American dream. It's a universal dream. Because in South Africa, we're black and white, and in Northern Ireland, we're Protestant and Catholic, and in Israel we're Jew and Muslim. And our mission is to reach out and teach people to love, and not to hate. "

~~~~~

Matlovich said, “I knew, for example, that when Americans went to the Vietnam Memorial to remember and honor those who gave their lives fighting that horrible war, it never occurred to them that some of those who were the strongest, bravest and most heroic were also gay.”

He was buried with full military honors at the Congressional Cemetery in Washington, D.C. The inscription on his tombstone, which he wrote himself and is meant to be a memorial to all gay veterans, has no name.

It simply reads:

"A Gay Vietnam Veteran"

and the words . . .

"When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one."

~~~~~

“It’s a crazy mixed up world we live in," he said, "when we’re rewarded for killing and hating, and punished for loving."

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

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illnessfaker · 3 years

Text

[ cw: f-slur, rape mention ]

no reblogs pls. this is a long vent.

haha not to be a hysterical faggot crippled shut-in freak or anything but the way ppl talk abt the defensiveness around the f-slur that some gay/bi male users (and some transfem users) on here as if it's some kind superiority pissing contest thing and not primarily about...respecting the boundaries and experiences of those gay/bi male (and transfem) users. like...being on this site as a fag-adjacent person (i say that half-jokingly because it sounds silly on one hand but on the other that's the most accurate descriptor of my gender identity, lol) is becoming increasingly draining and upsetting with how "progressive" homophobia against gay/bi men is apparently becoming, like, a meme among lgbtq people and that's acceptable somehow bc lgbtq people aren't cishets or because it's "only online" and therefore doesn't matter.

like idgaf abt ppl who aren't gay/bi men (or transfem) using the f-slur in every single context possible. if they're affectionately referring to their gay/bi male (or transfem) friends with that word (so long as said friends are comfortable with it) that's one thing. who cares. i even rb'd something where a cis butch (iirc) lesbian was talking about a gay man she knew who she was affectionatly calling a faggot and the things she said warmed my heart. if they're throwing it around at every opportunity or using it as an edgy insult against random strangers on the internet, that's another. the users on here who do the latter also regularly display behavior that like...shows a pretty clear disdain for gay/bi men (or transfem ppl) not apart of their online or "irl" circlejerks and echo chambers, and that is in no way disconnected from their love of using the f-slur, lol.

the "it's only online and so it's unimportant uwu go outside" thing also really feels like such a spit in the face as someone who both lives in a rural area full of cishet white men with guns that might try to kill me if i walked out of the house in drag (not to mention i live with my bf and his family and his parents are homophobes themselves i'm sure), and is also someone with health issues that usually keep me at home and in bed when i'm not working. i didn't always live here but even in my hometown the only "lgbtq space" i had was the high school GSA which didn't do shit other than the day of silence and was attended by people i did not feel safe around (e.g. my ex-friend who was very emotionally manipulative and ended up raping someone.) i don't have any other lgbtq spaces to go to other than online ones. if i never joined tumblr i might still be a self-hating cishet girl, or i might be dead, who knows. like, i've accepted at this point that personhood isn't something i'm allowed in (outside of my whiteness) so fuck me i guess if we need to but the idea that other young, impressionable, and/or traumatized lgbtq people who only can meet other lgbtq people and learn about lgbtq things online for whatever reason don't deserve to have us make an effort on cultivating internet spaces that are as accessible and safe for them as possible, or that their experiences and feelings are somehow unimportant is just...vile. like ofc not everyone needs to "pander" to "logged on" disabled fags like myself maybe but if you have any kind of large following on social media maybe consider that the things you say and do on said social media have like...an actual effect on other people instead of pretending that it's "just online" and therefore consequences for your actions either don't matter enough (to you personally) or somehow don't exist.

but going back to the fag thing, most popular lgbtq tumblr users on my dash i see nowadays just...simply do not give a shit whatsoever about gay/bi men, to the point they're normalizing "progressive" and "acceptable" homphobia against us bc they've convinced themselves due to the bigotry some gay/bi men (often cis, white, and wealthy mind you) exhibit we are "the cishets of the lgbtq community," despite horrific violence still being committed against us every day and despite other lgbtq people being capable of engaging in that violence themselves. ppl make thinly veiled jokes and memes where the punchline is men having sex with each other or effeminacy as if those things aren't primary avenues for gay/bi men being abused, assaulted, and killed (including acts of abuse and assault of a sexually-driven nature), as if said jokes and memes don't serve to normalize the mentalities that drive homophobic hate crimes. it's not like...a coincidence that most lgbtq people who makes these jokes aren't gay/bi men (or transfem). this doesn't even get into how things like homophobia and anti-effeminacy can pretty much boot certain gay/bi men from manhood...or womanhood...or any place in gender altogether.

call me exlusionary if you want but i think it's fair to say that the chances of people who aren't gay/bi men (or transfem*) facing the repurcussions of those mentalities in any meaningful way, the chances of these people actually having lived as or going to live as "faggots" is any meaningful sense is slim to none, and that's why they're so comfortable participating in this shit, and that's why i'm triggered(tm) by them "reclaiming" faggot (which doesn't really involve reclamation bc calling random strangers on the internet or gay/bi men you hate a slur isn't reclamation you morons), because frankly if you're not apart of either of those groups, you're just not a fucking faggot. it's not your word just because some rando on overwatch called you it for picking hanzo in comp. period. end of story. it's also just extremely absurd to try and claim faggotry as something you experience while...readily and happily engaging in homophobia and fag-hate (which isn't synonymous with the former term but i'm talking abt ppl who probably seldom ever engage which discussions and theory surrounding how homophobia instrumentates itself in society - or at least that which doesn't conform to their worldview). within the gay/bi male community there's plentu of masc "straight-acting" gays who weaponize this shit against fem gays and they (should) get held accountable in the same way. you're not special.

and god, being told my gendered experiences as a fag-adjacent person where (white) cafab women are fully capable of engaging in social forms of "oppression" against me and other fags in undeniably gendered ways is somehow an outlier and therefore not reflective of broader social by (white) masc urbanite tbros with definitively more social standing than i'll ever have in my life, as if i somehow developed this understanding of gendered violence just based off my own life and not...the reported and sometimes even recorded experiences of countless other fags who get mocked and silenced because anything that deviates from a watered down, shoddy cis feminist take on gender is fake news(tm) or bordering on saying misandry exists (like no it doesn't exist but acting as if homophobic shit like anti-sodomy laws, for example, has zero to do with gay/bi men's manhood is just nonsensical). convos on here abt gender being mostly dominated by (white) cafab women or sometimes (white) masc trans guys is such a mistake lmao.

anyway i'm tired and stressed and pretty done with having "acceptable" homophobic shit shoved in my face on a daily basis both online and offline but nevertheless i must persist because i'm not lucky enough to have anywhere else to go, really. just...think critically abt ur actions regarding gay/bi male sexuality and gender-stuff pretty please. please.

( *disclaimer just in case that i definitely don't see transfems as some "type" of gay/bi men. there are transfems who identify with gay/bi manhood and/or faggotry. there are transfems who don't. that's entirely up to them. thank u. )

#op #🌙#homophobia #gender #site culture #no reblogs -

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thisoneanonymousguy · 4 years

Text

Death.

Death is an emotional thing. When I was young, I remember my dog died and i was sad. A few weeks later i got a new dog and just thought about how much better the new puppy was than the grumpy old dog.

Death is an emotional thing. When I was in high school a friend shot himself. His parents said it was an accident when he was cleaning the gun but he lived and breathed guns and he hated himself. I remember sitting in our clique and he just randomly said "I'm sorry" and someone said "whatever fag" and it stuck with me. I remember feeling nothing for weeks and watching all the boys that had picked on him act like they lost a friend and the girls that laughed at him when he would give them a compliment crying like they lost a soulmate. I was his friend and I sat at the funeral silent and confused. Weeks later it hit me and I remember falling to my knees in my room and crying so hard it felt like dry heaving my heart. He felt so alone that the bullet was the only answer and still loved his small group of friends enough to muster a semblance of an apology and a goodbye.

Death is an emotional thing. I remember watching my grandmother dieing in the hospital. She had given me everything my parents never tried to. I watched her lay choking and unconscious day after day after day after day after day and every labored breath felt like it punched me in the gut. My grandfather convinced me to go and have one night out, that I can't spend my life in the hospital. My friends took me out for the 4th of July and we watched fireworks from the top of another hospital's parking deck and I smiled. I don't remember anything else, not the color of the fireworks, or the conversation, or what we wore. I only remember that I smiled. I got back to the hospital and the doctors had locked the door and my grandfather caught me and told me that they were trying to bring her back. My grandmother was alone and gave up because I gave up on her. She died a few days later and the guilt eats me up decades later.

Death is an emotional thing. I remember being half asleep when my brother busted into my room to tell me something was wrong with my granddaddy. My grandfather and I had a respect for each other. He only knew how to show love through money and the strings attached were more ropes around my neck. He respected me for standing up for myself and giving him my opinion even if it didn't match. He treated me like an equal even though I rebelled agaisnt everything he was. I was his first born grandson and the champion of the family's future. His sons had failed him and I was the last hope, but I think he already knew I was going to fail. It was his first day of retirement. He was a self made man with a G.E.D. that fought his way to the top of a major corporation. I walked into his room, and he was laying down with his feet hanging off the foot of the bed like he was resting for a moment before the day started. His expression was peaceful and there was still ice in the whiskey that he held in his right hand. If he wasn't blue, he would've just looked like he was taking a drunken morning nap. But he was blue, and obviously dead. I was numb. I called 911 while my brother frantically asked what we were supposed to do. I told him to go get dad from downstairs, he and his father fought the night before so I was sure my father was still a little drunk but he needed to get dressed if the paramedics were coming. The next few hours were a blur but I remember after they wheeled him out and down the stairs of the porch underneath that black plastic zipper, my father came and asked if I was ok, I said I was holding on and he very not convincingly said "I'm not" and started crying though I never saw tears. He walked away. I got so angry I punched the column I was leaning on leaving it cracked and my knuckles bruised.

Death is an emotional thing. I remember hearing that my father had died. My first thought was blank. I didn't know how to feel. I remember the 4 hour drive to get there and learning how it happened. He had a tracheotomy due to his throat cancer and he still wouldn't stop drinking. I have only seen him sober once and that was when I was young, he was in the hospital and I went to see him and he asked me to sneak him a beer. They described the way he died in washed out detail but I could picture it after I saw the mattress. He drank so much that his blood got thin and he bleed to death out of his neck. I could tell he died on the bed with his feet hanging off the floor and i couldn't help but to imagine the scene like a more violent version of Granddaddy's death. I wonder of he regretted forgetting his life into a drunken stupor. I wonder if he thought of me. We never got along and our fights got worse as I got older and more bold. He was a failure in a bottle my entire life. I moved out of his parents house before he did. We prepared the funeral and I was just annoyed. Why are we honoring this. Why are we going to bury him next to the parents that were more mine than his. I felt my numbness growing into anger. I did my best to be blank at the funeral but it was so hard not to roll my eyes at his buddies drinking stories and his supposed heart of gold. How can someone who was barely anything to me cause me so much pain and anger because he died?

Death is an emotional thing. I remember standing on the over pass. I remember being filled with righteous martyrdom. I would die and everyone I cared about would be better off. I couldn't disappoint them anymore after this. I couldn't cause them pain by being who I was anymore. I had been drunk for months, but i was sober now. I remember smiling at the thoughts of them all thriving without me, and feeling so alone as I tried to choose a car to aim for when I jumped. I wanted it to be a spectacle. I wanted people to tell stories about it. I wanted to be remembered for something at least. I had been rationalizing suicide away for years, but now it only made sense to die and get out of the way. I remember how much harder my life was in the mental ward on suicide watch and losing my job. Life was so much harder for so long, but I survived me trying to murder me.

I read this to make sure I didn't make any grammar mistakes or leave out words because my mind is faster than my fingers. But I realized that everyone dies feeling alone and I can't help but think of everyone that feels alone. Loneliness feels like death, separate from everything life is. If you feel alone, know you aren't. There is someone out there that is just waiting for you to reach out so they don't feel dead any more either.

#rant #my rants #death #hate #depression #i'm sorry

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nikkzwrites · 4 years

Text

Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 3

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count: 4.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Jana laid on the couch watching a commercial for Mads’s favorite candy bar called Raider.

Mikkel blinked and decided to walk into the home. There must have been some mistake. This was just Martha and Magnus playing a joke on him with their friends and his family would be there waiting for him to give him a giant hug. Martha would be there apologizing for never paying attention to him. His brother would be there never letting him go. Katharina would be making his favorite sweets while she tended to his wounds. Ulrich finally getting him that magic set he was eyeing for a while...And Annalise would be there smiling and crying thanking everything that he was back home safe pressing her forehead against his.

When he walked in, he was welcomed to no such sight. He walked into the dining and living room and called, “Mom”

Jana looked up from the couch and responded, “Mads?” She desperately looked at the boy before her.

Mikkel shifted uncomfortably, “Who are you? Where are my parents?” He felt so confused. This was his house. Why wasn’t everything making sense?

Pitifully, Jana moved from around the couch and knelt to study the boy standing in her dining room.

“Who are you,” Mikkel repeated.

Jana held onto the boy and asked, “Do you know where he is?” Mikkel tried to pull away from the woman but she held onto the only thing that may be a clue to her own son having gone missing. “Do you know where Mads is?” she clarified for him.

“You’re hurting me,” Mads protested. He kept trying to get away but Jana’s grip was one of a mother still clinging to the hope of finding her child.

“Want are you doing here,” Jana pleaded, “Say something.” She finally allowed the strange boy to go. She fell back to sob to herself not fully believing any of this was real. Mikkel backed himself into the hallway and bolted to the front door to getaway. Jana bawled, “When is he coming back?” She lowered herself into a ball on the floor to cry.

Ines walked into her work. The sounds of her shoes echoed throughout the white hallways. Her uniform was neat and orderly as always. She paced down the hall before a coworker commented, “Ines, can you do the night shift today too? Mrs. Schuttler’s daughter has a fever and I have to take Benni to soccer. Since you have no…”

Ines stopped and turned. She interrupted the lady to confirm, “No family.”

Her coworker sighed and tilted her head, “That’s not what I meant.”

Ines laughed to ease the tension and commented, “It’s not a problem.”

“Thanks. And please, don’t tell Dr. Reimann?” The lady called to her coworker’s leaving form.

Ines stopped and turned once more to pantomime locking her mouth with a key and putting it into her pocket. “Mum’s the word,” she whispered with a small giggle. Her heart remembering the young boy who had taught her to do that. She wondered what he could be doing and where he could be. It had been at least thirty four years since she had last seen him.

“Thanks.”

Ines continued down the hall once more.

Egon sat in his office listening to the radio berate him about Mads’s disappearance. He sat disheveled at his desk staring at all of the mess around him. His phone started to ring. He sighed then answered the phone, “Tiedemann.” He sat and listened before he asked, “Where?” He continued to wait then responded, “I’m on my way.”

Claudia used her rearview mirror to put on her signature red lipstick. “In times like these...One must face one’s own fears.” She quoted to herself, “Because the future…” She looked down at her speech, “the future belongs to the bold. Not to the doubters, those forever stuck in the past.” She looked at her daughter with frizzy hair in the back. She shook her head and criticized, “Would you take a look at yourself? You can’t go to school like this.” Regina sat in the back of her mom’s car just looking out the window to the forest. Claudia continued, “Sometimes I think you have no idea what it is I do. Food, clothes, fencing classes. Who pays for all of that? And you can’t even bother combing your hair.” Claudia shook her head again. “Look at yourself. You look like a limp dishrag.” Fed up with her daughter’s silence she called back, “Hey, Regina, I’m talking to you. This is a huge deal for me, and I won’t let you spoil it. The board’s decision to entrust this post to a woman for the first time...”

Regina just stared out the window wishing she was already at school.

Mikkel walked to the high school hoping to find his mother, his siblings, or Annalise. He looked around. Everyone seemed to be dressed oddly.

Katharina leaned against the lockers as she handed her friend a tape, “It’s awesome.” She commented then asked, “Know what the song’s about?”

“No,” her friend answered.

“A man who kidnaps a girl and takes her to the forest, just because she’s wearing red lipstick. In the end, he kills her,” The blonde explained.

Hannah raised her brow but stayed silent as their other friend responded, “That’s heavy.”

“My dad says lipstick is only for prostitutes,” Hannah, then, explained, “Anyway, I like Nino D’Angelo way more than Falco.”

Katharina shook her head, “Hannah, you’re as square as they come.”

Hannah smiled awkwardly.

Their friend scolded, “Come on Katharina. Don’t be so nasty.”

Mikkel slowly made his way to the small group of familiar seeming girls. He stared at them awkwardly.

“What are you looking at,” Katharina addressed the boy, “Weren’t you at Ulrich’s place earlier?”

Hannah looked at him and asked gently, “Are you new here?”

Mikkel shook his head quickly. “I..” he started, “I’m looking for my mom.”

Katharina smiled cockily at the boy, “This isn’t kindergarten.”

“She’s the principal here,” Mikkel defended himself.

Katharina’s eyes widened as she asked, “Mr. Hubert?” Hannah laughed as the blonde continued, “he may be a fag, but he’s certainly not a woman.”

Mikkel looked down at the floor then back up at the girl, “Isn’t this Winden?”

Katharina scoffed at him then started to make her way to class. As she passed him, she asked, “Aren’t you a bit young to drop acid?”

Hannah deflected the conversation to ask, “You guys got history now?”

Mikkel stood and watched them leave annoyed. He had no idea what was going on.

Claudia pulled up to the nuclear power plant. She opened her door but stayed sitting in her car to put on her high heeled shoes.

Helge looked up from sweeping the street of paint. He smiled seeing Claudia. He greeted her, “Morning, Claudia.” He had always admired her even as a child.

“Morning,” Claudia tried to rush past him, but when she saw his sweet face she stopped to talk to him. He was just the same as the little boy she used to tutor.

“Your first day as boss,” He happily commented.

Claudia nodded and reaffirmed, “Yes.”

Helge lightly chuckled and swayed with his broom, “My dad told me the board voted unanimously for you.” He sighed and shrugged before continuing, “I wanted… Congratulations.”

Claudia smiled and nodded, “Thanks.”

“I always knew something would become of you,” Helge continued.

“Oh, Helge.” She nervously laughed. He was doing his weird Helge thing again, she thought to herself.

Helge, then, said as he stopped her from leaving. “And I have…” He paused to pull out a nicely wrapped gift, “A present for you.” He smiled proudly at her. Claudia looked down anxiously. The man then explained, “It’s a book.”

Claudia didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting this at all even if it shouldn’t have surprised her that the man would go to such lengths. She just looked up and thanked him for it before looking back down at it. The stood awkwardly for a moment. Helge stared at her expectantly. Claudia smiled again, “Well, I’m running late. I have to get going.”

Helge let the woman pass finally and called after her, “We’re all behind you, Cl..”Helge stopped himself shaking his head knowing that Claudia didn’t much care. The wet rustles of the broom against the pavement started up once more as he tried to remove the painted graffiti of ‘No Future’ from in front of the plant’s gate.

“I came just before six t feed the animals and found this,” the farmer explained to Egon as the men stood in a field surrounded by a flock of unexplainable dead sheep.

Egon asked, “Maybe a wolf?”

The farmer looked up at the chief of police as if he was stupid, “No bite marks. Nothing.”

Perplexed, Egon looked around the field of sheep corpses around him, “Poisoned?” He asked with a shrug.

The man let out a small instinctual shrug and commented, “Yesterday they were lively as can be. First the thing with the boy, and now this. Such things didn’t use to happen here. Who would just kill 33 sheep? ‘Be on guard. Be alert. You do not know when that time will come.’ The Gospel of Mark, 13:33.”

Egon nodded then shook his head, “Didn’t know you were a churchgoer.”

The farmer nodded, “The parish has a new priest. A good man.”

Egon stared at the man for a second then sighed looking down towards one of the sheep. The autumn trees behind them bare and the bright green grass being early the only color in the dreary field.

Claudia stormed into the large building trying to get to her office.

“Mrs. Tiedemann,” Her mousy secretary called to the woman boss as she rushed to catch up, “Mrs. Tiedemann. Tronte Nielsen from the paper is here, for the interview.” She smiled as Claudia looked back at her. She handed the other lady a binder, “and here are the figures from 1986 and 1985, as you requested.” The secretary watched as Claudia opened it up to examine the information. “They weren’t easy to get a hold of,” The woman admitted proud of her own hard work. When Claudia basically ignored her, she spoke up once more, “And congratulations again. I still can’t believe we have a woman as boss.” The woman cheerfully beamed.

“Are you sure these are the right figures,” Claudia asked concerned with what she was looking at.

Her secretary confirmed with a simple, “Yes.”

Claudia slowly closed the binder and nodded to her secretary to let her know she did a good job and that she could leave her. Once the other lady left confused, Claudia went back to investigate the numbers.

Egon sat in his office typing up his report. He still seemed to be learning how to use the modern typewriter. There was a small shuffle that came from the entrance to his office. Egon looked up to see a small boy in a dirty red puffy jacket over a skeleton costume. He looked at the dazed boy and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Mikkel looked at the man. He blinked several times. Today was just getting weirder and weirder for him. “I…” He stumbled over his words until he got his footing, “I’m looking for my dad.”

Egon smiled gently. He finally felt as if he could have a win in these dark times. His heart leaped happily at the thought of being able to help this boy. He asked, “What’s his name?”

Mikkel took a breath and replied, “Ulrich Nielsen.”

Egon’s brow furrowed. “Ulrich Nielsen?” he asked, “The Ulrich Nielsen?”

Concerned, Mikkel asked, “Doesn’t he work here?”

“No,” Egon replied, “And I’m certain he never will.” He looked at his report then back at Mikkel in disbelief, “Oh, so this is a joke? Was this Ulrich’s dumb idea?” He walked over to the boy and examined his scraped up face, “Did he do this?” Egon would be surprised if the teen would have beaten up a kid to make him go along with a stupid prank. He asked again, “Did Ulrich do this?”

Mikkel shook his head quickly at the officer. He stared up worried. The realization started to hit him that this wasn’t just a joke.

Egon stood up straight once more and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Mikkel,” the small boy choked out.

“Last name,” Egon asked with a shrug.

“Nielsen,” Mikkel anwsered honestly, “I am Ulrich’s son.”

Egon sighed and then asked, “Now tell me your parents’ real names and I’ll take you home.”

Mikkel shook his head and then asked, “What’s the date?”

“The 5th of November,” Egon replied with a shrug.

Mikkel, then, asked, “What year?”

Egon laughed figuring the boy had a sense of humor. He shook his head as he chuckled, “1986.”

Mikkel took a step back. Everything was fully hitting him now. He repeated back the year to Egon. He, then, watched as Egon went to the phone to make a call. He listened as the man described him over the phone and asked for someone to come pick him up.

After hanging up, Egon picked up his coat and explained to the child, “Someone will be coming to pick you up and take care of that.” He motioned to Mikkel’s injuries before continuing, “In the meantime, I’ll take care of Ulrich.” He walked past the boy and vowed, “He won’t hurt you again. I promise.” The man then closed the door behind him leaving Mikkel to sit and wait.

Mikkel walked over to Egon’s desk and started to play with the Rubik’s cube. As soon as he solved it, he gently placed it down so that he could try calling his house. Sadly, he only got the robotic voice telling him that the number was not in service. Mikkel shook as he held back tears. The boy sat back down and tried to look around to find anything else to do. He found a lighter on the desk. He slowly pocketed it after checking if it still worked. Mikkel, then, spied a report on Egon’s desk about his Uncle Mads. He looked at it still processing that he was trapped in 1986. He looked at a picture of Ulrich and Mads that was near the exact one in his house. Hearing someone coming, Mikkel panicked and placed everything back before jogging to the front of the desk.

Ines carefully walked into the room and greeted the boy. She walked a bit closer then explained, “I’m Nurse Ines. But you can just call me Ines.” Mikkel stayed quiet as he stared at the woman. She slowly approached him and knelt down to be eye to eye with him, “I’ll take you to the hospital now. We’ll take a look at your arm, okay? Then I will bring you home safe and sound.” She smiled gently and held out a hand.

Meanwhile, Egon pulled up to the Nielsen’s. He tried the doorbell then knocking. When he got no answer, he slowly made his way inside the house. Rock music blared upstairs from inside the teenaged Ulrich’s room. Ulrich sat in his trashed room playing an old plug and play game when Egon walked in. Egon looked at the turntable and carefully removed the needle to get the boy’s attention.

Ulrich sneered. His eyes looked him up and down before asking, “What are you doing here?” He stood up from his chair.

Egon placed his hands in his pockets and quoted the song in English, “‘My only aim is to take many lives. The more the better I feel.’ Why do you listen to such stuff?” He walked closer to Ulrich, “The boy you sent, do you think that’s funny?”

Confused, Ulrich shrugged, “What boy?”

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this,” Egon threatened.

Ulrich leaned over to sniff the man. He pulled away and commented, “Have you been drinking again?”

Insulted, Egon asked, “Beg your pardon?”

Ulrich repeated, “I asked if you’ve been drinking again?”

“Who do you think you are,” Egon asked growing angry, “I want us to find your brother just as badly as you do.”

Ulrich stood his ground and watched as Egon turned to leave.

Egon, then, had something catch his eye. He picked it up. There he held a sheep’s hoof in his hand. He turned and showed it to Ulrich, “What’s this?”

Growing annoyed, Ulrich responded, “A hoof. That’s obvious.”

Egon grabbed the shirt of the boy and pulled him closer, “Did you do that on the pasture?”

“What pasture,” Ulrich questioned.

“Did you kill the sheep?”

Ulrich started to raise his voice, “If you’d stop drinking your brain to mush, then Mads might be back by now.”

Jana walked in hearing her elder son had raised his voice. She stood in the doorway with her hands crossed over her chest. She looked at the man surprised and asked, “Mr. Teidemann?”

Egon let go of the teenager and slowly turned. Ulrich snatched the hoof back from the man. Egon tried to explain, “The door was open.”

Jana nodded, “Because of Mads. He forgot his key.”

Just to stir the pot, Ulrich lied, “Chief Inspector Tiedemann wants to update you on the investigation. They’ve got new findings. Hm?” Ulrich, then, sneered, “Exactly. You have nothing. Now kindly piss off!” The boy put away his hoof and turned his music back on before sitting back to continue his game.

Egon carefully moved past Jana and walked downstairs to see himself out. Jana just stared at her older son grateful that she still at least had Ulrich.

At the hospital, the doctor checked Mikkel’s vitals. Ines stood in the corner as the doctor took a look at the boy’s arm. “Everything’s in working order,” He commented. He then asked the boy, “How did this happen?”

Mikkel remained silent in mourning his old life.

“And you still won’t tell us your name,” The doctor asked the boy. A ring of a pager filled the room. The doctor looked down at it then told the boy, “Nurse Ines will bandage you up, okay? Then you can go back home.” He pet the boy’s head to try and comfort him before leaving.

Ines stared down at the empty name and general patient information on the intake report. Her heart ached. She looked back up at the boy and slowly sat in front of him. Mikkel just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears started to fall from his eyes. He was never going to be able to have his life back. Ines’s heart wrenched. She caressed the boy’s face and comforted, “Don’t cry. Everything will be okay.” She forced a small smile at him.

Claudia knocked on the door of the old director’s office. “Brend,” she called to him after opening the door, “I have to talk to you.” She walked into the office and closed the door behind her. She stormed to the retired man’s desk and slammed the binder she was carrying down. “Were you trying to slip this past me,” she accused. She angrily explained, “I said I need to know if there are skeletons in the closet.”

Bernd sighed, “There are things that are worth knowing and things worth not knowing because you can’t change them anyway.”

“What is this,” Claudia motioned with her hand. She opened up the report, “These are nothing like the reported figures. Here.” She looked up and nodded at him, “And here.” She looked up angrily again, “Everywhere. It’s been like that for three months now!” She motioned for him to speak to defend himself.

The man asked, “Do you know what has changed since Chernobyl? People have lost faith. In us, in nuclear power. They saw the images and they can’t get them out of their heads. But fear is the worst enemy of progress.”

Breathing hard, Claudia tried to piece together what he was trying to say. She shook her head, “So?”

“How many people around here rely on the plant for their livelihood,” Bernd counterpointed.

Claudia swallowed realizing now what he was saying. “We have 612 employees, excluding…”

“Everyone!” Bernd corrected the woman, “And when you take over this job tomorrow, you’ll be taking on responsibility for the nuclear power plant, but you’ll also be taking responsibility for the entire town. And now tell me, was I wrong about you?”

Claudia sighed. She crossed her arms across her chest then stated, “All the more reason for me to know just what this means.

Egon stood in the morgue with the examiner who was opening up one of the sheep’s heads. The examiner droned on about how exciting and historical it was for Claudia to be taking over the plant. He tried to just focus back on the case, “So were they poisoned?”

“Hardly,” the examiner chuckled, “All signs point to sudden cardiac arrest.”

“Cardiac arrest,” Egon asked surprised.

“Yes.”

“All 33?”

The examiner explained, “It’s common with sheep. They’re very sensitive creatures. If a few start to panic, the entire herd freaks out. It’s a vicious cycle. They just drop dead. Like flies.”

Egon, then, asked, “And what could cause such a panic?”

“All kinds of things,” the other man educated the officer.

“A person,” Egon asked surprised.

The medical examiner asked, “A single person?” He replied back, “Unless he’s Freddy Krueger, he’d have his work cut out for him.”

Egon, still focused on Ulrich, asked, “Did one of the sheep…” He stopped and rephrased his question, “I mean, was one of them missing a hoof?”

The medical examiner shook his head, “No. They are all as God created them.”

The men had a bit of an exchange about if this could be Satanists when the examiner found something. His brow pushed together, “Strange.” He motioned for Egon to come to see, “Look here.” The medical examiner pointed to its eardrum, “The eardrums are ruptured. On both sides. Strange.”

Claudia rolled Bernd into the woods to a place that he instructed. The man held out a yellow key to her and said, “What we know is a drop, what we don’t know is an ocean.” He then handed her a flashlight.

Claudia opened up the gate that enclosed a natural cave system. She repelled down into it. Leaves rustled out of the way and screamed as her heels punctured them. She turned on the flashlight and tried to look around.

Ines wrapped Mikkel’s hand and asked, “Won’t you tell me your name and where you live?” Mikkel stayed quiet so she asked, “Don’t you want to go home? If something happened at home… You can stay here for now.”

Mikkel refused to look at her. He was just trying to focus on not crying. Magnus and Martha would have made fun of him for crying. What was it that Annalise used to do that would stop him from crying? Agony struck him while he started to realize he was starting to forget little things. Or was it that he never actually fully appreciated them so he never paid full attention in the first place. He longed for Katharina’s arms to wrap around him.

Ines finished her work and told the boy, “If you want to talk, I’m here.” She held his hands in hers and gently rubbed his wrists with her thumbs, “I’m on the night shift too.” Seeing the boy not letting up from the ground he stood on, she placed some comics down on the bed for him and explained, “Here, something to read.”

“I’ve come from the future,” Mikkel explained as she walked away.

Surprised, Ines turned and asked, “What did you say?”

Mikkel turned to look at her and repeated, “I come from the future.”

Ines started to fill with fear. Her eyes darted down to the comics she had placed on the bed seeing that they were called, ‘Captain Future.’ She started to sigh thinking that the boy was just familiar with the comics and not actually telling her the absolute truth that he actually came from the year 2019.

Claudia made her way through the dark caves. She kept walking until she found it. Copious amounts of yellow barrels labeled as toxic. Right there, under the city.

Regina walked into her house and dropped her bag down in the hall. She removed her jacket and called her for her mom. When Claudia didn’t respond, Regina walked to the answering machine and listened to the message of her mother telling her just to heat up a pizza. She sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror and lifted the sleeve of her blue sweater to reveal her self inflicted scars. She sniffled as she tried to pull herself together.

Egon pulled up to the pasture to try and investigate more about the sheep incident. He walked around with his flashlight.

A large mechanical boom resonated inside of Winden.

Egon looked towards the noise only to have a bird drop dead right next to him. His light started to flicker as more birds dropped from the sky attacking him and the earth below with their corpses.

Lights all around Winden started to flicker. Everyone started to panic.

Mikkel used this as his opportunity to try and sneak out so that he could get back home. He pulled the curtain and climbed out the large window just as Magnus had once taught him to do.

Ulrich sat at the bus stop. He looked out into the forest as he smoked. He started to come out here more and more hoping that one day he would spot Mads and be able to bring his brother home. The smooth sounds of a bike chain pulled him out of his wandering mind. He smiled and called to the younger girl riding it, “Hey, Hannah!”

Hannah smiled and rode to meet up with Ulrich at the stop, “Hey Ulrich.” She parked her bike and sat down next to her crush. They sat in silence just enjoying each other’s presence for a second. Hannah spoke up and asked the boy, “Is this the Apocalypse?”

Ulrich hummed and then commented, “A bit disappointing.”

“I imagined it being louder,” Hannah affirmed with Ulrich, “More glaring.”

Mikkel ran through the trees making his way to the caves. Desperate to make it back home into the loving arms of his family. He bolted to the cave in which he came to this world then stopped to take a breath. He took out his stolen lighter and started his way into the caves hoping to find his way home.

“If the world ended today and the world started anew, what would you wish for,” Hannah asked Ulrich.

“Easy,” the teenager replied, “A world without Winden.” The boy watched as the lights flickered in the bus stop.

Hannah paused and thought for a second before proposing a cheer, “To a world without Winden.”

“To a world without Winden,” Ulrich agreed. He took one last puff of his cigarette before tossing it away onto the street. Just then the flickering stopped. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal.

Hannah smiled, “I don’t think Winden is going to give up that easily.”

Ulrich chuckled back and shrugged, “Well, maybe next time.”

Little did Winden realize all of this mirrored the exact feelings all of the town would be feeling 33 years from now. This feeling of hopelessness, confusion, hurt. Claudia slowly opened Helge’s present to reveal a book titled, ‘A Journey Through Time’ by H.G. Tannhaus. Regina looked at her body unsatisfied and selfconsciously. Charlotte still investigating what was making all of these birds die in such a strange fashion. Tronte still coming home late to a disappointed and worried Jana. Ulrich still mourning the loss of a little boy he held so dear to him.

Ulrich, sick of this feeling, drove down to the caves with a crowbar. He crossed the police line and stormed inside trying to find his son.

Mikkel, 33 years in the past, climbed his way through the caves only to get take a slid. His body slid down the rocky floor and only stopped when his leg hit a hard rock at the bottom injuring it.

Ulrich, in 2019, walked up to the metal locked door with his flashlight. He placed his light down so that he could have light as he worked and approached the door. He shoved his crowbar into the door.

In 1986, Mikkel heard the noise coming from all around him. He looked down at his bloody injured leg. He winced and grit his teeth through the pain. He just wanted to make it move again so he could go back to trying to make it home. Hearing the banging noise again, he called to it, “Hello?!” His voice was raspy and desperate, “HELLO? Help!”

Ulrich turned hearing the ghostly echoed voice of his son calling for help. Ulrich stopped banging on the metal door and asked, “Hello?” He repeated himself in a whispered tone, “Hello? Anyone there?” He started to pant and repeated his son’s name in the hope that he would hear him, “Mikkel? Mikkel?”

Mikkel pushed his way up and limped over to his still lit Zippo lighter.

Both ended up struggling out of the cave alone and sitting right at its cursed entrance in torment. Both wishing they were with the other as a lone Tannhaus worked in his office on a new invention.

#yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark netflix fanfic #dark netflix #dark (netflix)#dark (netflix) fanfiction #fix it fic #break it differently

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