#it makes me cry wretched fat wet tears SIGH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

So happy your requests are open and I don't mind the wait at all!

I just really want to see a sweet quirkless omega going into heat and sending her alpha Overhaul (Kai Chisaki) into a hard rut and he just pins her to a wall and fucks the life out of her before taking her to the bedroom to knot her.

but you do know that it would 100% be like "hate sex" on Chisaki's part (even though he kinda do like it lol)

(Kinda overhaul x reader x chrono btw but only for a little bit)

Just. Overhaul being able to tolerate you being kept at his compound because one, you're his mate, whether he likes it or not.

Two, you're quirkless.

And three? You don't bother him, you stay out of the way and you have passable hygiene when compared to Chisaki's standards.

But that has to be thrown out the window the second Chrono hauls you into Chisaki's office, the man in charge of watching you when Chisaki isn't around flustered and pink around his ears.

"B-boss, your omega, she's-"

"What the fuck is that smell." Chisaki growls, eyes immediately snapping to your trembling form. Taking in the way you're gasping, sweaty, barely able to stand even with Chrono's hand tight around your bicep and holding you up.

For some reason, the sight of Chrono touching you makes Chisaki itch. Odd, that usually wouldn't bother him.

The smell is cloying; too intense and too sweet, it makes his throat burn and his skin crawl.

"I think she's in-"

"Please, it hurts." You choke out, cutting off Chrono. "Need... I need-"

Chisaki recoiled as the scent got stronger, clouding his senses, making him feel... Chisaki didn't even know. Excited? Tingly?

Uncomfortable - he decided.

"Get her out. Give her a bath too, she smells disgusting." He commanded, but Chrono stepped forward instead of back out the door.

"Boss, she's in heat."

Heat?

Oh.

Overhaul cringed.

Logically, he knew it was going to happen eventually. But on the other hand, he had hoped his omega would be different. you was already quirkless, already pure... surely it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that you wouldn't be affected by the mindless heat-addling that Omega's all seemed to undergo?

His irritation was rising.

"So?"

Chrono looked at his boss with questioning eyes, unsure what to do with the omega becoming increasingly more distressed at his side.

"You'll get her over it." Chisaki decides, ignoring the bitter taste that floods his mouth as he utters those words. His eyes slide over you again, lip curling into a disgusted sneer.

"Messy thing."

Chrono is frozen in disbelief. But this isn't a test of his loyalty, Chisaki truly doesn't want to deal with the germs and the mess and the cleanup associated with omega's during their heats. Slick everywhere, pheromones staining the room, needy hands touching everywhere-

"Sit her down on the couch." He instructs his second-in-command, rising from his office chair and stepping around his desk so he can close the door. "I want to make sure you don't damage her."

That's the only reason. Only reason he wants to be present and watching while Chrono fucks you through your heat.

"You're serious then?" The white-haired man asks, removing the plague mask he wears while inside the compound, thus beginning the process of disrobing.

Chisaki waved his hand idly, resuming his position in his office chair with a tired sigh. "It'd be such a chore for me to do it myself. Aren't you an alpha yourself Chrono? You should be jumping at the chance to bed a nice quirkless omega."

Chrono shrugs off his white coat, looking up from where you're panting on the couch while he stands in front of you, eyes finding his boss. "I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries with your property."

The brunette smiles, not that anyone can see, but it's clear he's pleased by the crinkle near his eyes, the relaxed way he slumps in his chair. "And that's why you're my favorite Chrono."

You're wearing what you usually wear - long pants, a cozy sweater. Overhaul hasn't heard you complain about the chill in the compound, but it's clear to see it affects you by the way you dress and the way your nose darkens from the cold.

You don't fight the half-naked Chrono as he helps you out of your sweater, unbothered by the temperature of the room and looking entirely too hot and sweaty.

Chisaki supposes it's good that you aren't fighting. You had at first, when he first brought you here, crying and pleading for him to let you go and leave you alone. That pathetic show was quickly shut down with a simple demonstration of Overhaul's quirk, and what he'd do to you if you didn't comply.

Now you're seemingly accepting of the situation, casting nervous glances towards Chisaki, your attention constantly getting stolen by the pale man stripping in front of you.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Chrono has his cock in you.

And you look completely blissed out, mouth open and letting out choked little gasps on each thrust, one hand desperately trying to hold onto Chrono's shoulder, his arm, his chest - anything you can reach.

The other hand is on your stomach, and Chisaki doesn't understand why until he focuses on it, sees the distention whenever Chrono swings his hips into you.

Chisaki feels himself throb.

The sounds you're making sound like music. Awful music, all discordant and rushed and pornographic, stuttered breaths and pitiful cries, high-pitched and girlish moans in between Chrono's quiet huffs.

The sweet pheromones in the air become sweeter, thicker, and Chisaki can see the direct correlation between the smell and how much slick is dripping out of you, drenching Chrono's pretty cock, his stomach, even splattering his thighs on each thrust as his cock squelches deeper.

It's disgusting.

Digusting but curiously enamoring. Chrono's got you sitting on the couch, pushed up against the back while he fucks you. It's a tall piece of furniture, and Chrono merely hikes his leg up onto the cushions to gain a better angle to fuck you with. Your slick is everywhere; Chisaki knows that couch won't be salvageable after this. Somehow, he doesn't mind.

What he does mind, however, is the way Chrono is speeding up, rhythm stuttering and practically falling apart. He's going to knot you. Chisaki had given him full permission to - that's what taking care of an omega during their heat means, after all. But jealousy is boiling inside him, blood painfully engorging his cock, he feels tingly all over, very unlike himself.

He wants to touch you.

But you're a disgusting mess, smelling sweet and fertile and sweating and dripping everywhere. Chisaki can't believe he's feeling... attracted to you right now.

"O-ohh feels good, r-right there! Yes, thank you,t-than-" You mumble out, drunk on cock as you shudder through an orgasm, cream gushing out of your cunt and further dirtying Chisaki's office.

Chisaki sees red.

He's furious - not only at you, but at Chrono for touching you, and for himself for explicitly allowing it to happen. Chrono's about to knot you, claim you, and Chisaki is out of his chair before he knows what's happening.

"That's enough." And his gloved hands are ripping Chrono away from you, sending the other man reeling as his subordinate struggles to control his alpha instincts and stop himself from fighting his boss, tearing Chisaki to shreds for interrupting his mating.

Chisaki doesn't care, he's too focused on you.

"You're so pathetic." The man hisses at you, crowding into your space. When had he taken off his mask? He wanted to smell more of you.

His gloves are gone too, ripped away in a moment so he can feel your wet skin against his hands, feel the sweat beading your brow before those same fingers snap to undo his pants.

"I hate you, I hate you." He seethes, golden eyes staring at you so intently that you start to cry, overwhelmed with the situation, still craving a knot, craving intimacy and tenderness.

You've reduced him down to barely better than an animal, tearing at his clothes so he can sink into you, closing his eyes at the way you're wet and warm inside, perfect and velvety.

Chisaki doesn't know what's come over him. Normally he'd be disgusted, absolutely incensed at having such filth be in direct contact with his skin. But right now... all he feels is pleasure ripping through his veins, clouding his head, his mind, flushing rational thought down the toilet.

"Stupid, hate you-" his words rattle out on each rapid thrust, breath uneven and labored as his muscles stretch and work to fuck you harder and faster. He's building up to his peak.

One of his hands is fisted in your hair, close to your scalp and keeping you still, the other hand clamped firmly against your hip and making sure you don't wiggle away. Alpha instincts taking over as his brain convinces him to mate, breed, cum.

"You're so fucking dirty." He gasps, voice heated and gravelly as he struggles to fight through the heat taking over his body.

He's going into a rut.

Chisaki isn't supposed to do that. He takes supplements and suppressants to ensure he doesn't have too. Ruts are messy, nasty things to endure, and Chisaki would rather lick the floor of a dirty subway than experience one.

Yet here he is.

"You disgusting, wretched thing-" And you're crying, fat tears mixing with sweat and rolling down your chin. Chisaki feels disgusting himself, wanting to lick the liquid away.

He hasn't felt this good in his entire life, this burning fever pitch rising and rising and cresting, blazing along his nerves.

He can barely thrust his hips anymore, and only then does Chisaki realizes that he's popped his knot, jammed it in deep while you cried and moaned and struggled to hold onto him.

Theres a sick sense of satisfaction filling him up, his mind clears for half a second and Chisaki thinks to look over his shoulder, seeing Chrono still standing there with a soured look on his face, cock still swollen and drippy and bobbing purple against the man's stomach.

"Get out." Chisaki orders, and Chrono knows enough to merely pick up his coat and wrap it around himself before exiting the room. He's never seen his boss like this - so feral and unhinged and debauched like some regular dirty plebeian.

But Chisaki doesn't care. Odd.

He cares about grinding against you, feeling you milk every last drop of cum from his balls, shimmying his hips to hear you gasp and moan and clutch at his body, trembling like a little lamb.

Chisaki doesn't want to stop.

"As soon as my knot goes down-" He growls, lowering his face until it's mere inches from your own, breathing into your space. "I'm going to take you to my room and knot you until you break."

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slutsfordoves · 3 years

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i would give you my first-born for some valdo/jaskier!! maybe a/b/o, omega jaskier and his alpha boyfriend valdo are using the pull-out method so that jaskier doesn't get pregnant. but valdo is starting to get tired of knotting his fist, so he decides that enough is enough and finally comes inside jaskier even despite the other man's protests. jaskier is absolutely horrified and heart-broken afterwards, because how could the love of his life do this to him?

S U R E HERE YOU GOOOOOOOO

-----

“Oh, I couldn't imagine caring for a child. They're an awful mess.”

Jaskier rolled to his side. Valdo shifted to catch him in his arms, their bodies filling the space of Valdo’s narrow daybed. They had only just woken from a midday nap, tangled together; and after many long, languid touches and kisses exchanged in the liquid afternoon sunlight, Valdo had said, “Have you thought about it, Jaskier? As you said you would?”

Jaskier went on.

“And anyway, what kind of a mother would I be? You know I'm made of unsturdy stuff. I'd faint the first time it came to change a diaper. No, better to live life unfettered. Don’t you think so, Valdo?”

Valdo made a soft humming sound. Jaskier could feel the press of Valdo’s nose, then his mouth, to the back of his neck. This hum did not sound disappointed, exactly. But it also did not sound as though Valdo were willing to drop the matter entirely.

“I think you'd make a fine mother,” Valdo said, after some time. “I’ve read stories of mothers who don’t really come around to it ‘til the child’s already nursing. They don’t regret it. Not once they’ve seen the babe.”

Fine and good for them, Jaskier wished to say; but Valdo had sounded unnaturally plaintive. Jaskier suspected this was a desire Valdo had long held secret for fear of his reaction, and Jaskier didn’t want to hurt him.

“It isn’t really the time for children, either way,” he demurred. “There’s years left to decide. I’ve got my studies and you’ve got your apprenticeship. We don’t need to worry about it so soon.” A thought struck him, and he turned his head to purr against Valdo’s mouth. “And we can always play-act while we’re waiting. Won’t you breed me, Alpha? I feel so empty without you.”

Valdo didn’t answer. Rather, he bit him, gently, and rolled on top of him, and slipped his half hard cock inside of him. Jaskier was still wet from their earlier fucking. It was easy to take. He pressed himself into the daybed and immersed himself in being soundly buggered. When once again Valdo had drained himself and had drifted off into a shallow slumber atop him, Jaskier similarly allowed himself to fall to sleep, thinking the matter settled.

-----

Jaskier woke with a start. He was no longer on the day bed, but instead in the bedroom; the curtains were corded tight, and the windows shut. The whole room felt humid, the air swampy and stale. The sheets beneath him were drenched with sweat.

“It’s so hot,” he gasped. ”Valdo, what’s going on? I’m so. Oh.”

He shifted the smallest bit and what felt like a deluge of slick slipped out of him, wetting his thighs, further wetting the sheets and the mattress. His cocklet, trapped between himself and the mattress, was aching. Indeed, the whole of him ached. A thick wave of disgust washed over him, and with it came nausea and dizziness. He clamped his eyes shut and he pressed his overheated face into the bed.

“Oh, gods, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling,” Valdo said.

Jaskier raised his head. Valdo was beside the bed, holding a cold cloth and a bucket. He wiped Jaskier’s brow. Jaskier reached for him, blindly; wrapped his hands around Valdo’s wrists and held onto them. Against Jaskier’s boiling skin, Valdo felt blessedly cool.

“It’s your heat,” Valdo said.

“It isn’t time for my heat,” he said blearily, blinking his eyes. There was a fog surrounding his vision that wouldn’t lift. This wasn’t usual at all for his heats; they did not come so forcefully, and they did not make him feel so wretched. “It isn’t time. And my - my suppressants - “

“You must have missed a dose.”

“I don’t miss doses,” he said, even as he caught Valdo’s scent, the scent of an alpha, and his whole body thrummed with a need that nearly had him lifting off the bed sheets. “I’m certain I took it. I’m.”

Valdo pulled out of his grasp. He tossed the cloth into the bucket and put the bucket onto the floor. These few moments seemed to last an eternity. Valdo was not touching him, not even looking at him, and he was, yes, in heat. Ready and aching to be mounted. Why wasn’t Valdo looking? Wasn’t Jaskier pleasing enough?

“Nothing for it now, of course. We’ll have to sort you out the old fashioned way.”

Valdo flipped Jaskier to his front, and Jaskier, desperate and grateful to be handled so roughly, tucked his knees beneath him and rested on his elbows. He had been naked on the daybed and he was naked now. A sight any Alpha would kill for: his rim pink and dribbling slick, still well-fucked from their earlier coupling, his own cocklet full and bobbing, and the small of his back and the backs of his thighs still smelling like Valdo’s come.

He could feel the slippery head of Valdo’s cock slide across his hole, catching the rim but not penetrating. An awful tease that ratcheted his desire higher, made the awful heat in the core of him flare that much hotter. He could just scream with the frustration of it. Jaskier fisted the sheets and slammed his head down into the mattress, and he rolled his hips and widened his knees. If he were to present better, make a prettier picture, Valdo wouldn’t be so inclined to tease him. Would stuff him as full as he wished.

“Please, Valdo, please,” he said.

“Needy bitch.”

Jaskier squealed, his toes spreading and then curling. Valdo had breached him in one long thrust, burying himself fully up Jaskier’s sodden backside. Valdo wasn’t the largest Alpha Jaskier had ever taken, but still he filled him up sweetly; there was a phantom pain, a near-uncomfortable stretch. He had a bulbous, firm cockhead that struck Jaskier just right that stars burst behind his eyelids; and once he got round to fucking him, it eased the awful, cramping pain he had been in since he’d woken up in heat.

“I hate fucking you when you’re like this,” Valdo panted, after a few long minutes. “Your cunt feels so loose.”

Jaskier stiffened, and then gave an embarrassed squeak. Valdo fucked up into him, and there was an answering squelch, a fount of slick pouring out of him; enough to mat the hair on Valdo’s stomach and thighs, enough to run in riverlets over his own swollen balls and prick. Some of the passion in him flagged a little, and he felt hot with shame in its stead.

“Not my fault,'' he mumbled, between Valdo’s bone-rattling thrusts, “s’not my fault,” but Valdo only sighed and said, “Of course it’s not.”

He was feeling quite useless. He’d gotten himself into this state in the first place (how? how? he didn’t miss doses, never had, not once in 12 years, something wasn’t right but he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on a thing past Valdo’s cock up his arse), and now couldn’t even please his Alpha. His overheated body, the thrust of Valdo’s stiff cock against his sensitive insides, the rejection, it was too much; he felt the miserable bite of tears at his eyes and could do nothing to stop them from falling. Valdo fucked him and Jaskier sniffled and whined, and he wanted it to end and he also wanted it to never end.

After what felt like ages, Valdo pulled free from the clutch of his arse.

“Are you going to come?” Jaskier asked, sluggishly. He threw his arm back to try to stuff two fingers into himself, the sense of emptiness and the longing overwhelming him. The heat wouldn’t subside for hours yet, not without Jaskier being knotted. While Valdo rallied, he would need a plug.

“Move,” Valdo said. He knocked Jaskier’s hand away. Jaskier felt Valdo spread him open. Felt his thumbs toy with and pull at his abused rim.

“Listen, Jaskier. I'm going to knot you.”

What?

“What? Wait, Valdo, no - “

He struggled to right himself, to get up onto his arms, but Valdo knocked him flat. When Jaskier did not stop, Valdo threw himself fully on top of him, using his weight to bear Jaskier down into the mattress. Jaskier tried to drag the both of them to the floor, and Valdo hit him. The room spun.

“Stop, Valdo,” Jaskier said, squirming, crying again. He wanted it. His heat-ravaged body wanted it; he thought of the fine way it would stretch him, keep him full. Valdo could come a prodigious amount if sufficiently motivated; all of that seed, tucked inside of him, a claim laid to a barren field. He would swell with it. He would be bred.

No. It would ruin him. Valdo would ruin him.

He didn’t want it.

“Valdo, don't, don't,” Jaskier cried, fat tears rolling down his reddened face. Valdo had his arm braced between Jaskier’s shoulders, holding him down. Slowly, he slid his cock back inside of Jaskier’s arse, deep, until Jaskier could feel the swell of his knot, hot and hard, pressed tight against him.

“Please, don’t - “

“Shh, Julek - “

“Wait - “

“Quiet. You'll like it, or you'll learn to. You've made me wait long enough.”

He couldn’t fight it. His body gave in. The knot popped past his overburdened rim, and the pain of the stretch and the relief of not having torn and the awful, swollen fullness of the knot's bloated heat pressing his insides apart all at once made his vision go spotty and black. Once inside, Valdo rocked against him, and the knot swelled further. Jaskier moaned and sobbed and shook, and once the knot locked and a flood of come began to pour into him, Valdo sank his teeth into Jaskier’s shoulder.

-----

They lay together in the aftermath. Valdo had rolled Jaskier carefully, on his stomach, to the center of the bed, and lay over him, pinning him, while they waited out the tie. The room stank of sweat and slick and Valdo’s seed. Jaskier’s shoulder was bleeding, but he otherwise felt nothing. Did nothing. The heatsickness had faded; what had been left behind was a body, cored out, burned out, and most likely pregnant.

Valdo stroked him down his sides and kissed his head, his back, with the unhurried satisfaction of a well-fed cat.

“I've gotten an appointment at a court in Cidaris,” he said. “The stipend is generous, enough to support a family. We could be happy there. I've wanted this for a long time, Julek. I know you’ll - you’ll get used to it. You’ll make a fine mother.”

Jaskier blinked his swollen eyes.

“Once you’ve seen our child, I know you’ll come around.”

#cw noncon #cw humiliation #cw a/b/o #cw abusive relationship #cw forced pregnancy

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incoherentbabblings · 4 years

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Kisses #13 from the prompt list, Timsteph por favor

Birthday Ask Game

Thank you for the ask! Time for romancccccccce.

Kisses #13 “When One Person’s Face Is Scrunched Up, And the Other One Kisses Their Lips/Nose/Forehead”

Tim and Stephanie had been working on a case for over a month. It had consumed their days and nights, leaving little time for much else, let alone college. Stephanie had been moaning about stress just a couple of days prior, finding the pull between Stephanie Brown and Batgirl difficult that month, but it wasn’t until 7pm on a Friday night when the cracks turned to canyons in her wellbeing. Her tablet pinged, notifying her that an assignment had been graded. Tim, who was working on deconstructing a poisonous molecule, allowed her to drift away to check on college student Stephanie’s life. Her quiet curse was not enough to make him turn away from work, however her sudden screech of anguish gave him pause.

“I’m going to fail.” Stephanie sobbed, slapping down her tablet on the chair next to her. “A D! I got a D! Tim, I might as well have not handed the report in!”

Red Robin turned, seeing Stephanie look miserable. Glancing back at his molecular analysis, he set it aside for the moment, and turned around properly to give Steph his undivided attention.

“It’s just one grade.” He tried.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve never gotten less than a B in your life, have you?”

“You are not stupid. You were probably just a bit overworked when you submitted the essay.”

“I’m a big dummy.” She sniffed, looking positively miserable. “Useless, stupid girl in over her head.”

“Woah okay. That’s enough. This is more than a bad grade isn’t it?” Tim got up to kneel in front of Stephanie, who was looking damp eyed and wretched. Curling up into a ball, she hid from his gaze.

“Let me have my tantrum.”

Incredulous, Tim laughed. “No way. Stephanie Brown doesn’t throw tantrums.”

“She absolutely does.”

Tim could only look at her with affection. “Big baby.”

Even in her ball, Tim saw Steph nod. He took off his gloves, and his fingers crept up to hold one of her arms that was wrapped around her legs. “What can I do to fix it? Besides cheating and altering your grade online?”

“Get a new girlfriend.”

“Hmm. Tried that. Didn’t match up to the original.”

Her shoulders shook with very real sobs. Swallowing dryly, Tim tugged at her arm. “Steph? Steph please don’t cry.”

Reddened blue eyes peered down at Tim, fat tears slipping down. Breath stuttering, heart jerking, and his own eyes feeling damp in empathy, Tim moved to pick her up.

Her grip on his shoulders was almost painful, but Tim was glad she was clinging to him so tightly. He wouldn’t let her psyche herself out from such a good place, even after one (small in the grand scheme of things) slip up.

He sat himself in the chair, Steph strewn across his lap. She buried her head into the crook of his neck and continued to cry. Tim let her do so until she tired herself out. When she quietened, he asked,

“Do you really think I can do better than you?”

“Oh, don’t start.” Stephanie sniffed. “You know you can.”

“Define better.”

“More patient, better cook…

“I don’t want to date my mother Steph.”

He managed to make her chuckle, if only for a moment, then her expression returned to pain. She looked almost grief stricken.

“Someone who can keep up with your science and tech. Someone less loud and histrionic. Someone who your friends and family like.”

“Bruce loves you. Sometimes more than me it feels like. And my friends don’t know you that well. That’s not the same.”

“…Frightened.” She admitted.

“Of disapproval?”

“Not being good enough. For you. For the city. For Batgirl. For college even. It all catches up with me.”

Tim shunted her around a little so he could look her dead in the eye. Carefully, methodically, he pressed a kiss to her wrinkled forehead. It was warm, and it made Steph shiver and tighten her grip on him. Tim’s breath, smelling of those cherry cola sweets he was so fond of, washed over her. He then kissed the space between her eyebrows, then as her eyes flickered shut, he kissed her twice for each eye, then her nose, then her cheeks, then her mouth. He didn’t miss her whimper when he broke away.

She blinked, eyelashes wet still, and looked downwards, ashamed.

“I’m sorry Tim.”

“For what? Being sad?” Stroking her blonde hair, Tim pressed her closer against him. She groused, uncomfortable with his deliberate obtuseness but enjoying the warmth. “Call me a hypocrite, but keep things in perspective. It’s just one bad grade. You are more than enough. More than good.”

Stephanie sighed, grumpily eyeing her tablet with its bad news. “I still think you can do better.”

“Absolutely not.” Tim said, tone light and matter of fact. “I had spent nearly a year of my life thinking about how I could get you back. You really think I’ll let you slip away again? ‘Cause you got a D? Like, oh Steph, you know what, I’ve decided that’s the breaking point. No way.”

“Delusional…”

“Hmm. Someone’s delusional alright.”

Steph smiled, but it was a miserable smile that quickly melted back into sadness, and more tears slipped down her cheeks. Tim kissed them away. Upstairs they both heard the grandfather clock giving way for the rest of the family, coming down to get started with patrol. Feeling Stephanie tense up, embarrassed to be seen like this, Tim whispered,

“Want me to kidnap you?” Shaking fingers tightened their grip on his uniform, and Tim made up his mind, picking her up. “Yeah, yeah. We can take a break. Maybe a week? Maybe a bit more. Recharge and get some perspective. C’mon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more. Gonna prove it.”

#dc #timsteph #my fic tag #stephanie brown #tim drake

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lickstynine · 4 years

Text

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Thirty

written with @ocsickficsideblog

---------

Everyone continued to eat and chat for a while, save for Kit, who was just sipping his one cup of tea and occasionally throwing out quips. Finny had taken a seat under the table, his ass on Alistair’s feet, his tummy on Riagán’s, and his front feet on Siofra’s. She ruffled his ears, sending Cillian to go get more beer so she wouldn’t have to bother the dog. By the time everyone was full, there was an astonishing dent in the buffet that had been filling up the table. There was enough food for maybe a few normal-sized people to have lunch, but that was really it. Kit stared in astonishment for a moment before helping to gather empty plates.

“What, never seen a functional family before?” Siofra smirked.

“Well… no. But I was more shocked at how much you all eat. I would actually die if I tried to eat that much.”

Siofra snorted, patting his shoulder as she set the remaining ham on the counter. “Yeah, well you’re tiny, an’ ye sit on the couch feelin’ sad an’ dramatic all day. We’re big, an’ we fuckin’ work out. Calories in, calories out, an’ all that shit. C’mon, we’re gonna watch whatever dumb Christmas film is on, then dessert.”

Kit’s jaw nearly fell off his hinges. “We’re still having dessert after that?”

“Well, yeah. It’d be a right lousy holiday if we didn’t.” Siofra shrugged, wrapping up the leftover ham before dragging him to the couch. Kit looked hesitant to take up space when there were so many family members not seated yet, so Siofra just pulled him onto her lap. He yelped in surprise, but didn’t move — she was soft and warm and remarkably comfortable. Riagán snorted and plunked down next to them.

“Ye lovebirds havin’ fun?”

“Mm… not till you go to sleep.” She grinned.

Cillian fake-gagged, squeezing into the remaining corner of the couch. “Gross!”

“At least I have a boyfriend, not a pillow I kiss at night.” Siofra said. Riagán snorted and Cillian smacked at them both with a throw pillow. He mostly just hit Riagán and Kit, since Siofra was being blocked from the front and the side. Riagán grabbed a cushion and smacked back, while Kit just yelped again.

Gran shuffled in with a mug of tea. “Boys! Not my good pillows! Beat each other with the ratty ones.”

Alistair just sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He was starting to wish he’d just gone with Julius instead. He wanted him so badly. Siofra’s family were all friendly and boisterous, but Alistair wasn’t really attached to them like Kit was, being Siofra’s boyfriend. He was only there for Kit, and Kit seemed to have had enough of him too. He felt squeezed out on the edge again.

Kit was doing his best to play along, but he didn’t really feel any more at home than his cousin. He felt like an idiot jumping out of his skin every time a pillow flew at him, but he would’ve felt like more of an idiot asking the boys to stop. He slouched down, resting his head on Siofra’s chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair. Finny trotted into the living room, looking quite offended to see his owner’s lap taken. He laid down on the ground with a deep doggy sigh.

A moment later, Mr. Rafferty finally came to sit, taking the armchair opposite Gran’s rocking chair. He turned on the TV, flicking through channels of useless sludge until he hit the opening credits of A Christmas Carol. Kit knew every version of the story, inside and out, and before long, the familiarity was going in one ear and out the other while he stared off into the abyss. Alistair was similarly preoccupied, sitting with his chin on his knees. He kept his eyes closed, trying to blot out this other family he didn’t belong to. He was rudely interrupted by a wet nose snuffling his face. Finny was similarly peeved about his favourite human being preoccupied, and wanted attention.

Ruff.

Alistair smiled at him, letting Finny cuddle on his lap. He suddenly felt dangerously near tears, and blinked fiercely to stop himself weeping, hiding his face in Finny's fur. A large, pink tongue that smelled of gravy and mashed potatoes lapped at Alistair’s hair and the exposed parts of his cheeks. Alistair smiled a bit, ruffling Finny’s ears. “Ugh, gross,” he said fondly. Finny just licked his face again, letting out a low, cheerful boof. The sound caught Siofra’s attention and she nearly broke her neck turning to face Alistair without knocking Kit off her lap.

“Ya wanna take ‘im outside? He’s been in all afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Alistair said, desperate to escape. “Come on, Finny.”

The dog hopped up at once, wagging his tail and running to the front door. Alistair got his leash on, stepping out into the frigid winter air. Soft snowflakes were falling, and Finny was delighted, running around trying to catch them in his mouth. Alistair watched him, laughing — and then the giggles turned to tears so suddenly even Alistair was surprised. He didn’t even really know what he was crying about. It was just that it was Christmas, and he was lonely.

Finny immediately turned around, running back to Alistair and tackling him into the snow. He laid down on top of the now-prone Alistair, snuffling and licking his face. Alistair squealed and wrapped his arms around the wriggling lump of fur, half laughing, half crying. Finny continued to lick his face — that was the only way he knew how to fix crying humans. Snow was gathering on the tips of his dark ears, making them look like tiny mountains. Alistair tried to sit up, gently brushing the snow off. “Come on, it’s freezing. We should better go inside to play gooseberry.”

Finny shook himself off, hopping off of Alistair to run in circles around him. His fur kept him plenty warm, but he still returned to the front door after a minute, nudging Alistair along. Alistair laughed. “It’s like you’re looking after me,” he said, taking him back inside. Finny ran back inside, sniffing around to see if more food had come out in the interim. When he found nothing, he flopped down on the rug. Kit hadn’t moved an inch, still staring vacantly into the same spot on the wall. Gran waved when Alistair and Finny came back in.

“Hello, boys! How was the wretched tundra?”

“Bloody freezing, as expected. How’d you live out here? I thought old people got more cold,” Alistair said tactlessly.

Gran snorted. “That’s what alcohol is for. Why d’ye think the Russians are known for vodka?”

“Because it originates there?”

Gran paused for a long moment, then turned back around to watch the movie. “What a sheltered child…”

“I’m not sheltered,” Alistair grumbled.

“If ye don’t like shelter, ye could go back outside.” Riagán offered. Siofra elbowed him in the stomach.

“There’s hot chocolate on the counter.” She told Alistair. “Cilli wanted some, so we made a bunch. Knew yer fat arse would drink the rest.”

“My fat arse will,” Alistair said gratefully, going to grab a cup. Finny followed him, hoping for food. Alistair ruffled his fur. “Haven’t you eaten enough, greedy-guts? You’re as bad as your Siofra.”

“Oi!” Siofra called from the living room. Finny boofed in response, then turned back to Alistair to beg. Alistair couldn’t resist him for long, ferreting in the cupboards for a treat.

“You’re a menace, Finny. Giving me those big eyes.”

Ruff. Finny snuffled Alistair’s hand, happily crunching the treat. Alistair squatted beside him, sighing. “How come I can only make it work with you guys..? Animals. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be flipping human. My mother used to say I was half wild.” Finny licked his face.

Ruff.

Alistair stroked him fondly. “We should probably go back to the room…” Finny turned around obediently, thumping Alistair’s legs with his tail before returning to the living room. He stared indignantly at Kit, who was snoring on top of Siofra, flopping down on the rug again. Alistair flopped in a similar fashion beside him, curling around Finny like they were two dogs together. Finny wrapped his tail around Alistair, giving his face a big, sloppy lick. Siofra chuckled.

“D’you two need a room?”

“Bugger off,” Alistair said lazily. Finny licked his nose again, happy to have attention since his owner was preoccupied. Siofra just chuckled.

“He seems pretty happy with ya.”

“It’s only because Kit’s purloined you.”

“Oh, so you’re both jealous?” Siofra grinned.

“Evidently.”

“I mean, there’s space on my lap for two more. Kit is like the size’o my leg.”

“It’s a lovely offer, but I think I’ll pass,” Alistair said, rolling his eyes. “Kit’s happy there anyway. It’s nothing against you, I’m just...protective. Trust me, if you were a lanky streak of piss like Kit, your brothers would be the same.”

Siofra snorted so hard she nearly woke Kit, and her brothers laughed as well. Gran just chuckled and shook her head. Alistair grinned, curling back up with Finny. He could hear his soft heartbeat through his thick fur. The dog licked his nose more gently before curling up to sleep.

By the time the movie was over, Finny, Kit, and Cillian were all sound asleep. Siofra finally nudged the snoring red lump in her lap. “Oi. Get off, I want dessert.” Kit groaned dramatically and didn’t move.

“Come sit with me and Finny,” Alistair mumbled sleepily.

“I’m not sitting on the floor with the dog.” Kit sighed.

“I thought your fat arse would get up when ye heard ‘dessert.’” Siofra teased.

“Depends on what you’re eating.”

Siofra looked at him strangely. “Pudding, soda bread, cake, tarts. Y’know… dessert?”

“We always had just one dessert at home, they’d just be like “it’s meringues” or “it’s banoffee pie.” I am aware of what dessert is,” Alistair said.

“We had lots of desserts at parties.” Kit mumbled.

“Course ye did, Princess.” Siofra lifted him off of her, setting him in the warm spot she’d left on the couch. She kicked Cillian lightly. “Oi. Dessert.” He popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Dessert?”

Riagán was already barrelling past his little brother into the kitchen, while Mr. Rafferty helped Gran out of her chair.

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Like Pavlov’s dogs.”

“Yer mum’s a dog.” Siofra mumbled. Finny lifted his head and barked. He’d heard ‘dog.’

Alistair was distracted, ruffling Finny’s ears. “Ooh, you’re so clever!” Finny licked his face and trotted off to the kitchen as well. Alistair followed Finny, walking two steps behind him, as if he was the dog and Finny the human. Everyone was crowded around the counter, piling plates full of dessert. Meanwhile, Kit pattered off down the hallway, in search of his guest room. Alistair backed away from the crowd too, anxiety overwhelming the desire for dessert. He made a dash for his room. Kit was already there, rooting in his suitcase, and he yelped in surprise.

“Al! What are you doing here?”

“Getting away from everybody. It’s all a bit intense. What’re you doing?”

“Looking for a handkerchief.” Kit mumbled. “Are you really so scared of Siofra’s family that you’re avoiding dessert?”

“Not just all the people. It’s Christmas itself,” Alistair mumbled, flopping back on Kit’s bed. “It freaks me out when I see all these families being all happy and jolly together. I used to do it with Jules too.”

Kit rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment. He needed Alistair to leave, but he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m surprised Finny didn’t follow you.”

“He’ll be wanting table scraps. What’re you doing hovering by your case?”

“Trying to find my… handkerchief.” It took Kit a minute to remember what he’d said he was looking for.

“Just blow your nose on some bog roll. Do you want me to get some?”

Kit had to swallow a sigh of relief. “Yes, please. Meet me back in the living room.”

“Okay…” Alistair was a bit perplexed by that, Kit was the type who’d leave the room to blow his nose in private, but he left to grab some toilet paper anyway. By the time Alistair found the bathroom and got back, Kit had stumbled back to the living room, arms piled high with wrapped gifts.

Siofra had just finished fighting her brothers over a particularly large tart, and she turned to walk back into the living room. When she saw her boyfriend staggering under a heap of gifts, she nearly shrieked.

“Where in fuck did those come from?”

“What the fuck are you yelling about..?” Alistair mumbled, trailing into the room. His jaw dropped when he spotted Kit. “Fuck me! Did you loot a whole shop?”

“It didn’t all come from one shop. Even Amazon wouldn’t have the right things for everyone.” Kit huffed. He was setting down gifts by everyone’s seats, and there was a stack of several boxes where Alistair had been laying on the floor.

“Can we open them now?” Alistair asked excitedly.

“Wait for everyone to get settled. Go grab dessert or something. I know you’ll bitch if everyone is sitting here with sweets but you.” Kit said. Alistair poked his tongue out at Kit, but did as he was told. Finny was still lingering in the kitchen, trying to appeal to Gran for sweets. She rolled her eyes.

“Ye can’t eat tarts, ye great foolish beast.”

Finny barked in protest. Alistair slipped him a bit of pastry when he thought she wasn’t looking. Gran saw it, but she just smacked him with her napkin and shuffled back to the living room. There was still a fair amount of dessert left — she always made more than enough for the group she was hosting. Alistair grabbed a few more tarts and then hurried back to the living room. He was curious about the gifts. Finny padded after him, sniffing curiously at the small package that had been left where he sat.

Kit shifted nervously on his feet. “Er, if it’s alright, I’d like Siofra to go first. Since she’s the one that brought me here and all…”

Mr. Rafferty was staring incredulously at the tiny, neatly-wrapped box in his seat, still gobsmacked that he’d gotten a gift from this borderline stranger. He looked up when Siofra threw a pillow at him.

“Dad? Can I open mine?”

“Oh, uh, go ahead.” He nodded.

Siofra tore into the box at once, revealing a gold pendant with green gemstones clustered into a loose circle. The gems ranged in colour from pale and yellowish to deep blue-green, and many of the hues reflected in her eyes as she held it up. She couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face.

“Bloody hell… this is stunnin’. Don’t tell me how much ye spent on it. I might have to kill ya.”

“Well, then it suits you. It’s a one-of-a-kind piece. I like the arrangement of gems, it almost reminded me of freckles.” Kit murmured.

Siofra scoffed. “Ya sappy piece’o shit.” She was grinning even as she said it, and she yanked him closer for a suffocating hug. Once she released Kit to breathe again, she looked around the room. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Um, let’s do your brothers. I want Al to go last.” Kit said.

Neither Cillian nor Riagán offered to let the other go first; they tore into their boxes nearly simultaneously. Cillian’s gift was a pair of blue, black, and white Air Jordans, the colours almost identical to his favourite jacket. He gasped. “Shit! Siofra, did ye tell ‘im to get these?”

She shrugged. “I just gave ‘im yer size. He did the shoppin’.”

Riagán was similarly awestruck by his gift — a glossy William Henry pocket knife that looked more like a piece of jewelry than a weapon. This time, Kit spoke for himself.

“Siofra told me your old knife broke last time you were camping. This one should be a bit more… resilient.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” Riagán was staring slackjawed into the box. “I… shit… I mean… thanks, mate. That sounds pathetic, but, I just… I dunno what to say.”

Kit just smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. As long as you like it, that’s all I need to know.”

Siofra was bouncing on the edge of her seat, just as delighted by the others’ gifts as her own. “Dad! Yours now!”

Mr. Rafferty chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t sure what to expect; he didn’t know Kit personally like his sons, so it would probably just be a really expensive gift card or something. His beard and lower jaw nearly dropped off his face when he unwrapped the tiny box to see tickets to Yo-Yo Ma’s Bach Project performance in Barcelona, with accompanying plane tickets to Spain for the week of the show. He looked at Kit like he was expecting it to be a joke, but Kit just smiled.

“Siofra’s told me a lot about you. I tried to find something I thought you would like. If it’s not to your interest, I can get something else.”

“No, no no no. This is… amazin’. I’m just wonderin’… why?” Mr. Rafferty was still staring at Kit in utter confusion.

“It’s nice to make people happy. I have more money than I could ever spend. Why not do something decent with it?” Kit shrugged.

Mr. Rafferty still seemed a little blown away by the whole thing, but he nodded. “That’s… I suppose that’s fair.”

Kit was already turning to smile sheepishly at Gran. “I’m sorry, I know the wine must seem a bit anticlimactic. Siofra didn’t give me much notice I was going to be meeting you.”

“Dear, yer pretty arse stayin’ in my house is enough to make my Christmas merry. Wine is just the icin’ on the cake.” She grinned, her eyes scrunching and sparkling much in the same way Siofra’s had.

Kit chuckled. “You’re too kind. Al? Would you like to help Finny open his gift?”

Alistair did as he was told silently, a little awestruck by all the other gifts. He put Finny’s paw on the package as he ripped the paper to make sure Finny knew it was his present. Finny snuffled it curiously. At first the box looked like it held fancy candy, but upon closer inspection, they were actually gourmet dog treats. Finny was nosing at the box, clearly eager to examine its contents.

Siofra laughed. “Now ye can have dessert too, ye fat furry bastard.” Finny barked at her. Alistair opened the box for him, letting Finny stick his nose in and rootle around. The dog scarfed up a treat at once, trying to eat a second one before he’d even finished chewing. Siofra let him have a second, but then she took the box before he could devour them all. Kit was hovering nervously by his cousin, watching as Finny settled down.

“Alright, Al. Your turn.”

“Finally!” Alistair said, but he sounded nervous too. Maybe it was just everyone watching him. He started tearing the wrapping paper off the top box, struggling with the sellotape with his bitten nails. It finally gave, revealing a book of cold-press cotton paper and a tray of sixteen high-end watercolours.

Alistair had been preparing a thank you on his tongue, but he couldn’t speak now. He’d have never been able to afford these himself, but he’d always wanted to try them. He leapt over the box and hugged Kit hard — and he was still only on the first box. The older boy let out a strangled squawk.

“Al! Don’t choke me yet. I’d like to see you at least open your other gifts…”

“Okay, but I’m choking you afterwards,” Alistair said, tearing at the next box. This one was something Kit had researched for hours before picking it out — a 24-inch Wacom Cintiq Pro drawing tablet.

Alistair looked like he was going to have a heart attack. “Kit, you’re fucking amazing.”

“Open the last one, then suck my dick.” Kit grinned.

“You’re awful. I love you.” Alistair couldn’t sort through his emotions when he was this excited. He eagerly opened the last box. It was smaller than the Wacom, a sleek silver Macbook Pro.

“I figured your old computer wouldn’t hold up to Photoshop very well. Or rather… the salesman who helped me pick out your tablet figured.” Kit said.

“Dude. Kit.” Alistair almost did throttle his cousin when he hugged him this time. “They’re the most perfect presents I’ve ever been given…”

Kit made a louder squawking noise, trying to pull away enough to breathe. Finny was nosing curiously at Alistair’s things, but he knew better than to lick or chew on them. Alistair went and hugged him too. “Look at the stuff Kit bought me, Finny! Now I can do art like a real artist! Isn’t he fucking awesome!”

Kit just smiled, sitting on the couch to help Siofra with the clasp of her new necklace. Finny boofed, excited because Alistair was excited. He gave the boy’s face a big, sloppy lick. Alistair romped on the floor with him, bouncing off the walls now. He was like a kid on a sugar high. Finny rolled around, delighted to be getting so much attention, while Siofra and her family settled on the couch to eat dessert. Gran was pouring wine for those who wanted it, and Kit gratefully took a glass. He leaned on Siofra, but stayed awake this time, quiet and watchful.

“What about your presents, Kit?” Alistair said under Finny.

“Me? What could I possibly need as a gift?”

“I’ll give you mine later,” he whispered. “I don’t want everyone seeing it. Don’t get excited though, like you said, you’ve got everything.”

“I mean, I have somethin’ for ye, too, but it’s also not somethin’ I can give ye in public.” Siofra grinned. Kit’s cheeks flared red, but the Rafferty boys and Gran just laughed.

“Gross, Siofra,” Alistair mumbled.

“Yer mum’s gross.” She smirked.

“True.”

Finny boofed, and Siofra smiled. “Don’t worry Finn, yer mum was lovely.”

“You knew her?” Alistair said curiously.

“No, but I did. She was quite the charmin’ bitch.” Mr. Rafferty grinned.

“Well. That’s good,” Alistair said awkwardly. Finny saved him from further conversation by trotting over to the door and whining. Alistair leapt up at once. “I’ll take him out.”

“Thanks.” Siofra smiled at him. “Take a jacket, it’s bloody baltic outside.”

Alistair grabbed the first one off the rack, which must have belonged to one of the Rafferty men, since it looked like it was trying to swallow Alistair whole when he put it on. “Come on, Finn.”

Finny boofed delightedly, barreling out the door as soon as it was open. Snow had been falling heavily, and it was up to his belly fur, but he ran through it without hesitation.

“Jesus! Look at this!” Alistair ran out into the show, shivering. He’d shoved his bare feet into somebody’s gigantic trainers, and they were offering little protection. “Fuck, my feet are cold, Finny.”

Finny’s fur seemed to be doing a stellar job of keeping him warm. He ran around chasing snowflakes for a while before even remembering he’d been let out to piss. Alistair tried to run after him, but the borrowed shoes were so big he kept stepping out of them and stepping into the snow in his bare feet. “I am losing toes here, Finny,” Alistair called, but he still didn’t go inside.

Finny eventually wore himself out, running back to Alistair and snuffling at his legs. He was full after being spoiled with snacks all evening, and not as hyper as earlier. When Alistair let the dog back inside, Siofra and Cillian were helping clean up dessert dishes, and Gran was asking Kit about his travels. He seemed a little flustered to be in the spotlight, but once she got him going on a story about visiting Japan, he rambled enthusiastically, telling her about the temples he’d seen. Alistair staggered into the kitchen with snow in his hair, his feet practically blue.

Siofra snorted. “Jaysus, who’s the Ice Princess now?”

“The bloody snow outside is deep.”

“Ya coulda taken my boots.” She grinned, “They’d fit just fine.”

“I just took the first shoes I found,” he grumbled.

“Figured. Would some hot chocolate warm ya up?” Siofra asked.

“God, yes please.”

Siofra laughed, going over to the stove to make fresh cocoa. Finny had joined them in the kitchen, hoping to catch any dropped crumbs. Alistair didn’t have food to offer, but he pet Finny’s ears. The dog wagged his tail, thumping Alistair's legs. He watched Siofra eagerly as she worked on the stove.

“This ain't for you, fat-arse. You've already had fancy treats and all sorts'o scraps.” She told him. Finny sighed, laying down right in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Can’t he have a little bit of something?” Alistair asked.

“No. He's already had way more than usual. Don't want ‘im gettin’ sick, or fat.”

“Fat dogs are super cute.”

“They're also super unhealthy.” Siofra replied sternly. She finished the cocoa, pouring some into a fresh mug.

“Sorry, Finny. I tried.”

Finny boofed, continuing to lay right in Siofra's way. She just stepped over him and handed Alistair the mug. He took it gratefully, trying to warm his freezing hands.

“Go sit on the couch. We got plenty'o blankets.”

“Who else is there?” Alistair asked warily.

Siofra rolled her eyes. “Yer cousin. Riagán maybe, but ‘e's probably gone to set up sleepin’ bags.”

“Okay.” He mooched off to the living room, going to cuddle up with Kit on the sofa. Kit was still nursing the same glass of wine, and he yelped when his cousin sat down.

“Good Lord, Al, you're freezing!”

“I know. My feet are numb.”

“There’s blankets on the back’o the couch!” Siofra yelled from the kitchen. Gran and Mr. Rafferty had left the living room, so Riagán had taken over the armchair.

Alistair grabbed a couple of blankets, wrapping Kit up too. “Thank you so much for those gifts, Kit. You spoil me.”

“I try.” Kit mumbled, leaning on Alistair’s shoulder. He was still holding his wineglass, but he’d stopped sipping from it a while ago.

“I wish I could get you something as special,” he sighed.

“Like what, Al? You’re not being rude by not spending money you don’t have.”

“I’m just saying, I wish.”

“I wish I was in bed.” Kit mumbled. His eyelids were fluttering as he fought to keep them up, and he had to set his wine down before he dropped the glass.

“Want me to carry you?” Alistair offered.

Kit nodded. “Mm. Come to bed with me. Get warm.”

Alistair snorted. “I thought you and Siofra were having a holiday hump?”

“Tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“Glad to know I’m valued!” Siofra called from the kitchen. Alistair grinned, hauling Kit up in his arms. Cillian waved as they walked off to the guest room.

“Night!”

“Night,” Alistair said back, plopping Kit on the bed carefully. Kit held his arms out, hoping his cousin would crawl in bed with him. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes. Alistair couldn’t resist him, climbing under the sheets beside him. “Don’t you want to change?”

“Oh… I suppose I should.” Kit was so tired, he hadn’t given it the slightest thought.

“Do you want me to just do it? It’s not like I haven’t dressed you for bed before.” Alistair offered.

“...please?”

Alistair grinned. “Okay. Stay still then.”

Kit just flopped on the bed like a dramatic ragdoll, allowing his cousin to dress him. He heard snickering and looked up to see Siofra in the doorway.

“I didn’t think nobles still needed servants to dress ‘em.” She grinned.

Kit’s cheeks flared red. “I… it’s not like that!”

“Really? Didja go quadriplegic in the last five minutes?”

“...no.”

“Then what’s it like?” Siofra asked.

Kit hung his head, clearly embarrassed. “...I’m tired.”

She snorted. “Too tired to put on yer own pyjamas!”

“He offered!” Kit cried.

“This is quite a usual thing,” Alistair agreed. “It’s just easier than forcing him up to do it himself.”

“Christ. Ye rich folk are really somethin’ else.” Siofra shook her head, but she was smiling.

“I’m not a rich folk anymore.”

“Ah, right. You’re just weird. Well, I’ll leave ye weirdos to it.” She walked off down the hall, and Kit could hear her talking to Finny out in the living room.

“She’s the weird one. This whole family is weird,” Alistair said. He didn’t sound mad, just perplexed. “They all like...love each other.”

Kit laughed so hard, Alistair had to let go of his sleeve. “Al… that’s how normal families are.”

“It’s weird! They’re not any bit of drama or resentment. Even Jules’s dad has been screwing someone else. Even his family is a bit fucked up.”

“Well, I mean, Siofra said she never liked her mum much. But it’s really not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’m sure they fight sometimes.” Kit shrugged.

“Oh god, I bet that’s a riot.”

“You’re a riot.” Kit mumbled, flopping down on the bed with a sigh.

“Are you too tired to open my present tonight?�� Alistair asked quietly.

Kit sat up, trying to smooth himself out. “Oh, no. I just forgot. Sorry.”

Alistair grinned. “Shocker. Like I said, don’t be too excited… I wish I could afford to get you something really nice.” He rifled in his case and pulled out a little oblong parcel wrapped in deep blue paper.

“I can buy myself nice things. I’m just curious to see what you thought of.” Kit took the parcel, peeling off the paper slowly and carefully.

It was a necklace, very dainty and delicate, the chains so fragile they seemed as brittle as a daisy chain. There was a rose pendant at the bottom, uncannily similar to the ring Kit wore to remember his mother: same design, colour, roughly similar in size. Alistair had bought it second-hand, but he’d polished it up until it shone like it was new. Kit immediately looked down at his ring, stricken by the similarity. As far as he’d known, the ring didn’t have a companion piece — it was an old heirloom, one of the few remnants of when his mother’s family was wealthy. He was quiet for a long time, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.

“How… where did you find this?”

Alistair nudged his shoulder gently. “You know, you do still have an aunt…”

Kit nearly dropped the necklace. “It’s actually…” he stumbled over his words, too choked up to articulate himself, “It was hers? Or… the family’s, at least?”

“Yep. I would’ve told you I’d been in touch sooner, but I wanted to give you this first,” Alistair said. “Máire wants to talk to you again, too.”

Kit clutched the threadlike chain, his hands too shaky to put on the clasp. He was quiet, save for small, shuddering breaths, before collapsing against Alistair, sobbing and hugging his cousin tightly. Alistair held him just as tight. “So yeah… Máire was kinda part of your present.”

Kit shook his head, burying his face in Alistair’s shoulder. “She won’t want to see me. Not like this.”

“Of course she will! She was dead excited to hear from even me, so she’ll be really happy. I showed her a picture of you and she couldn’t believe how much you’ve changed,” Alistair laughed.

“I’m sure that picture looked worlds better than I do now.” Kit sighed. He was all too aware of how corpse-like he’d looked as of late.

“Well, it’ll probably make her auntie instincts come out. She kept telling me I hadn’t changed a bit.” He rolled his eyes. “Mnn, flattering.”

“You still don’t brush your hair.” Kit was chuckling through the tears now.

“She kept trying to smooth it down just like when we were kids,” Alistair said, grinning. “She said how handsome you are now.”

“When did you go see her?” Kit asked.

“Not too long before we came out here. I found her on Facebook and we chatted for a bit first.”

Kit nodded. “Does Julie know?”

“Yeah. He’s the only thing that kept me from telling you. I almost caved a hundred times this week.”

Kit couldn’t help giggling. “You were always awful with secrets. It’s probably good you didn’t realize you were gay sooner.”

“I know, I’d have told everyone in a heartbeat. I’d have had to live in your cupboard or some shit like a fucking war criminal.”

"Virgin war criminal more like." Kit smirked. He was no longer crying, and he sat up enough to put the necklace on.

“I could’ve seen your hair during your Draco blond phase,” Alistair said, helping Kit do up the clasp.

Kit cringed. "Oh god. I think I burned my yearbook from that phase."

"What phase?" Siofra popped her head into the room, as she'd walked over to check on the boys.

"Doesn't matter." Kit replied hastily.

Siofra smirked. "I'll be nice enough to pretend I believe ya. I thought ye came in here to sleep?"

"I did," Kit said, "I forgot Al still had a gift to give me."

"Ye know I do too, right?" Siofra asked.

Kit shook his head. "Not while we're sharing a room with him. That's just cruel."

"A real gift, ye twit. I was jokin' ‘bout fuckin' bein' yer gift. I'll fuck ye anytime, holidays be damned."

"Oh." Kit blinked. "Do… do you want to give it to me now?"

"Nah. You're havin' a moment. I can leave ye two here. D'ye need anything before I go?" She asked.

"Er… I don't think so. Al?"

“No thanks. But you can do the gift exchange if you want,” Alistair said. “I’ll go piss or something if you want privacy.”

"Nah, I'm not that fussed. It's nothin' fancy. I just thought I oughta offer more than a shag." Siofra shrugged. She dug through her own bag, which was sitting on the floor, and pulled out a wrapped box. Kit opened it as meticulously as the last gift, eventually revealing a small wooden box. He undid the latch, revealing an ornate silver hairbrush, with a matching mirror and comb.

"It's lovely," he smiled, lifting the mirror and turning it over. The back had delicate scrolling detail like the brush, and it was immaculately glossy.

"Oh, good." Siofra grinned, seemingly relieved.

"What, did you think I wouldn't like it?" Kit asked.

"Honestly, I was afraid you'd already have ten."

“You are a nightmare to buy gifts for, Kit,” Alistair agreed. “Just cause you’ve got fucking everything.”

"Well, that's why I don't ask for anything!" He cried defensively.

“I’m just teasing you, dope,” Alistair said fondly.

"You're a dope," Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin with a drowsy sigh. Siofra took the box off his lap, clasping it shut and setting it aside.

"You lot get some sleep. I'll be to bed in a while."

“I’ll look after him,” Alistair promised.

Siofra nodded. "Ya got enough blankets?"

“For me, yes. For Kit, we could probably do with a couple more.”

"Figured. I'll be right back." Siofra stepped away, returning a few minutes later with some soft throw blankets and a handmade quilt. "This oughta do ya." She dumped the blankets on the boys, and Kit groaned dramatically. "Sorry princess, no peas in the mattress."

Alistair snorted. “That really is you.”

"Is not," Kit mumbled, "my servants know better than to leave peas in my mattress."

“Who the hell would do that in the first place?” Alistair muttered.

Siofra snorted. "Get some sleep, idiots," she said, closing the door quietly and walking off down the hall. Her brothers and father were in the kitchen, drinking beer and talking rugby, but Gran was sitting in the living room, peering through her coke-bottle glasses at a book. Siofra walked through the living room, stepping into her boots to take Finny out.

"Ye really like that lad, don't ye?" Gran's voice behind her made Siofra jump.

"I like 'im well enough." She shrugged.

"Better than enough, I'd say, if ye bothered to bring 'im all the way out here."

Siofra huffed, shaking her head and lacing up her boots. "I'm feelin' it out, Gran. I ain't committed to nothin' yet."

"Well, feel him out a bit extra for me. He's a good-lookin' one." Gran said, her magnified eyes twinkling with mischief.

Siofra couldn't help snorting. "I will. Just don't harp on about nothin' in front'o him. He had a bad breakup not too long back. You'll scare 'im off if ye get too serious."

"I'm too old to take things serious. Just have fun with 'im." Gran shrugged.

"I plan to. I gotta take Finny out now, alright? Get some sleep." Siofra bent down, hugging her grandmother tightly before standing up and whistling for the dog. Finny bounded over at once, tail wagging eagerly as Siofra clipped his leash on. "C'mon, lad. Let's see what the forest looks like tonight."

#misadventures of Kit #chapter thirty #kit #raycraft #alistair #siofra #riagan #cillian #rafferty

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