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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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valkyrieskwad · 4 years

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i put a spell on you (because you're mine)

ao3

hi all! here’s the contribution i made to @supercorpzine this year!! it was a blast getting to work with so many talented people. hope it brought a little light to everyone’s 2020, we can sure use it.

Kara Danvers has an awful habit of making Lena feel like she's falling apart.

It's a familiar sentiment in some ways—as a struggling nineteen-year-old witch, Lena's grown accustomed to falling apart over the simplest things about her magic, about learning spells and potions and figuring out her own identity enough to do incantations with any real meaning—but the way she falls apart about Kara feels different.

Maybe it's because they live in the same apartment, or because they finish each other's sentences and have the same taste in music and food and old English literature. Maybe it's because they spend their weekends getting lost in the aisles of antique bookstores, smiling too big as the dust collects in their hair, getting too excited about old newspaper clippings used as bookmarks stuffed between browning pages.

Maybe it's because Kara spends two hours every day meticulously looking after their house plants, chatting to them about her day with her golden-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the sun bouncing off of her sharp blue eyes.

Maybe it's because Lena's in love with her, because she's absolutely hopeless for Kara, and she couldn't snap out of it even if she wanted to.

The two of them are like tree trunks planted right next to each other: separate roots and branches, but grafting together in the middle, growing taller and taller into something too intertwined to be anything other than inseparable.

"I was thinking of leaving," Kara whispers one night, completely out of the blue. It's late and they're on the couch, snuggled together underneath their quilted blanket—the first one they ever made together, decorated with different colored owls. Lena's eyes feel heavy, but she blinks them open as Kara shifts in closer and adds, "After I graduate, I mean. I feel like there's just so much of the world I still haven't seen yet, you know?"

"Mmm," Lena hums, but then it all catches up to her and she opens her mouth to say, "Oh," sucking in a deep breath and swallowing past the lump suddenly growing in her throat. "What do you feel like you haven't seen?"

"I haven't seen anything," Kara sighs, and it's like her words burn for some reason, etching hot across Lena's skin like a freshly inked tattoo.

Lena feels like she's seen everything living here. She feels so in tune with the land around her, that she hasn't really thought of being anywhere else for a while now. Southern Oregon may not be the most interesting part of the country, but it's the only place that Lena's ever found a sense of community. It's the only place she's ever felt like she can be queer and a witch and magical and accepted. It's the only place she's ever felt a part of something larger than herself without feeling like she's being completely drowned out.

It's where she met Kara. It's where she fell in love. It's where she wants to stay.

"I didn't mean it that way," Kara says a few seconds later. "I just, I hear you and Andrea talking about all the things you've seen, and I feel like I want to see those things, too. I feel like I'm missing out on the world. Just being here."

There's a too-long pause that settles over them, but Lena eventually finds her voice to say, "If you want to see the world, I think you should," and then she tries not to think about what that means for them.

There are two things Lena remembers from her very first junior-witches potions class: 1) the first time she met Andrea and the way she smiled as she told Lena about solstice festivals and candle magic, about crystals and La Virgen and her immeasurable love for Santa Muerte, and 2) how serious the professor's face looked when she said, "Under no circumstances should you ever make a love potion."

They were nine years old, and the idea of a love potion made them both giggle and roll their eyes, adding more ingredients to their boiling pot as Andrea went back to talking about bonfires and spiced cider, evergreen and mistletoe and clove-spiked apples and oranges.

If anyone had asked her back then, Lena would have said she'd never make a love potion.

"But Santa Muerte would accept you even if you did," Andrea had said.

Lena remembers that too.

She thinks about that when she does decide to make a love potion, when her head keeps spinning because Kara said she wants to leave, and Lena knows she wants to stay. She thinks about it as she adds each ingredient, whispering over and over that if she loses Kara, she'll lose herself too, like it's liturgical almost, an incantation, her way of broadcasting her strongest intention so the spell can get it right and Kara can love her, and they can stay here together, happily, forever.

She thinks about it when she decides the love potion is a bad idea, when she hides it in the back of the fridge because even if Santa Muerte will still accept her, she's not sure she'll be able to accept herself.

It's a tough decision, but it's the right one.

So, she pushes it to the back of her mind, tells herself it'll all be okay, and then she tries to sleep as best as she can.

She doesn't expect her world to end when she gets home the next day, when Kara meets her at the door and takes a deep breath, sighs, smiles, clears her throat, twiddling her fingers together as she says, "Sorry, but I might have eaten your stew in the fridge."

"Excuse me, what?" Lena asks, letting her backpack clunk to the floor, taking several deep, deep calming breaths before she asks, "My stew?"

"Yes," Kara says slowly, cheeks pinking up. "I'm sorry, I was just. Hungry. But it was delicious if that makes a difference."

Lena can't breathe. "The one in the back of the fridge?"

"Yes," Kara says again, blushing even harder, and heat floods through Lena so fast it suddenly feels like she's drowning. "The one in the glass Tupperware that was hidden behind the milk. The thing you always do with the food you don't want me to eat."

"Why'd you eat it, then?" Lena whispers.

"I don't know," Kara admits. "But if you give me the recipe, I'm sure I could make it for you again. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Lena tells her, heart pounding, head swirling, because Kara looks hopeful and beautiful and Lena doesn't know how to tell her how much she royally messed up, how that stew shouldn't have been in the fridge in the first place, how it's written in the preface of 86% of spellbooks to never make a love potion, let alone leave one lying around. "I was just going to throw it out, anyway," she adds with a smile.

She's pretty sure her life is over.

"I think I did something not good," Lena announces, and Andrea closes her book as she looks up at Lena, eyes glinting like she knows this is a big enough deal to warrant her undivided attention. This is, in fact, that serious. As a Scorpio sun Libra Venus, Lena absolutely hates complicated, messy situations, and this is as messy and complicated as it gets. "I need to talk to you about it."

"What kind of not good?" Andrea asks immediately.

"It’s not like, the end of the world, but it actually is the end of the world. I made a love potion that Kara ingested on accident, and I'm freaking out," Lena explains, shoulders inching their way to her ears as a blush inches its way across her cheeks. "I think I'm in trouble."

"Holy crap," Andrea mouths. "That's not good."

"Yeah, you're telling me," Lena groans, then she plops down on the couch next to Andrea and sighs, scuffing her shoe against the old wood of the apartment floor. "I don't think she even knows we're witches."

"What do you mean?" Andrea asks, leaning over so she's knocking shoulders with Lena. "I'm sure she's pieced it together by now."

"Yeah, maybe," Lena frowns. "But I'm pretty sure she thinks we're witches, but not witches. You know, the ones who make lavender salve and herbal tea and talk about tarot readings and natal charts. The ones who carry crystals around and garden and do candle magic without ever really knowing if it works."

"We are those kinds of witches," Andrea points out.

"Okay, yes, but we also do real magic, and we know it works. Crap," Lena groans, leaning forward and pressing her face into her palms. "How did this happen? I could get suspended from doing magic and lose Kara as a friend."

"Hey, it was an accident," Andrea reassures her, draping herself over Lena's back to hug around her. "I'm sure if you talk to her, you can fix this. It'll be okay, I promise. You'll be okay."

"I'll be okay," Lena repeats, and then she keeps saying it in her head until she feels like she believes it.

"A love potion?" Kara asks, and she's decidedly not upset. She's not even incredulous. Lena got so antsy she blurted everything out in the middle of making dinner, right after she dropped the colander three times and couldn't focus to save her life because she was so freaking flustered. So now Kara's standing next to a half-minced onion, slowly blinking her eyes with her arms folded across her chest, and she's... smiling. "You made a love potion?" she asks again, like this whole thing is funny and Lena's not falling apart. "Who'd you make it for?"

"I - well, I made it," Lena starts to say, then she takes a deep, sputtering breath, rolls her eyes, and huffs, "Who else would I have made it for?"

"Me?"

Lena sighs. "Yes, you. Because - well, because I want you to stay, but also because. I don't know," she finishes lamely. Then she takes in a long breath, presses her nails against her palm, and just says it, almost too quiet, but she's overwhelmed and feels dizzy. "Because I'm in love with you."

"I wasn't going to leave you behind," Kara says instantly, and Lena feels a bit relieved she just ignored the whole love thing. "I mean, I want to explore the world with you, it just - it came out wrong when I said it, and I got too nervous to fix it. But I always want to be with you. I want to go everywhere with you. You feel like home to me."

"Oh," Lena whispers. She was expecting a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. Not those words, not phrased that way. She didn't expect Kara to just say that. "What are you saying?" she asks, just to clarify, looking down at her hands and trying her best to hide how flushed she feels.

Kara responds by taking a step forward, and then another, sucking in a nervous, shaky breath, and then she's leaning forward and kissing Lena—on the cheek at first, and then the corner of her mouth, and then she pulls away.

"I'm saying I already loved you," she says, stepping in even closer, filling Lena's space with so much comfort and love and warmth, that Lena feels a little like melting. "I'm also saying," Kara stretches out, and Lena can sense she's smiling before she looks up to see it, eyes latching on to Kara's too-pink lips, perfect and glistening even in the dim, 50-watt kitchen lighting. She's so pretty it's incomprehensible sometimes. "I didn't actually eat the stew. I sort of dropped it on the floor, but I thought it'd be better if I said—"

"Kara," Lena gushes out, like a reflex, like a breath of fresh air, like Kara's the most frustrating person she's ever met in her life. "You're kidding."

"I'm not," Kara says, smiling wider, then she fits her hands on Lena's waist, and Lena swallows, cheeks burning with both nerves and anticipation, and happiness.

Her brain is still stuck on the fact that she wasn't expecting this when Kara kisses her again, on the lips this time, but that doesn't stop her from closing her eyes, from pressing up and opening her mouth and kissing back until she's breathless.

"God, a love potion," Kara laughs, right against Lena's mouth, and then she goes back to kissing her again.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorpzine #my writing

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chromium7sky · 4 years

Text

The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

------------

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Note

prompt request: JMart angst/hurt/comfort "you're not broken" + "i love you, no matter what your brain tells you"

Hey there friend! As requested, here is your prompt. I made it into a sort of season one/two au where Jon and Martin have already been dating. Hope you like! It can be a stand alone piece, but it is also the second in a series, the first of which is here: The Art of Conversation

“I was thinking…”

“As you do.”

Jon fixed Martin with a scowl. “Perhaps we could- that is, if you want-wouldyouliketospendthenightatmine?”

“You’ll have to try again, love. Didn’t quite catch that.”

Jon sighed in the face of Martin’s open fondness as they strolled down the street, making their way back from lunch. Martin brought a happiness to his life that he never thought possible- a companionship built on mutual respect and love. He enjoyed every night he spent in Martin’s cozy flat, curled up on the couch drinking tea and talking about everything and nothing at all. That’s not to say they didn’t have their troubles- Martin was rather inexperienced with intimate relationships, and Jon didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to communication. But Martin held his hand the night he stuttered out his asexuality, patient and loving and kind. Jon wasn’t ashamed of who he was, never had been- but he knew that for others it was considered a deal breaker. He’d heard stories. But Martin nodded, thanked him for trusting him with his boundaries, and let him curl back into his side, as if it changed nothing.

If he could handle that, than why, for fuck’s sake, was he so worried about having Martin over?

His flat wasn’t that bad. In actuality, it was quite a bit bigger than Martin’s. He wasn’t dirty, he usually kept up with chores, kept it relatively tidy.

But there was something so intimate about it- there was a reason he never hosted any events. Martin saw glimpses of it when he picked him up for things, but he’d never actually been inside. It was just so...barren. Void of anything Jon-like. Sure, it housed his possessions, his favorite books, his grandmother’s salvageable furniture. But it was a peek into his mind that he didn’t like others seeing. What if the way he lived was wrong? What if he didn’t have the right things? Like the little things that Martin had- a proper strainer for loose-leaf tea, little jars of spices for cooking, a towel-rack instead of a plastic hook on the wall. A nice bed frame and headboard, a worn but cozy duvet. In comparison, Jon lived like a freshly-graduated college student. He should have his shit together by now, right?

But every time he thought of making it a bit more homey and lived-in, his mind blanked. Where were the lists of all the things you need to make a home yours? What would look best on the walls? And what if he bought all of those things and it just looked awkward, like puzzle pieces forced in the wrong place? So he kept his mismatched furniture and odd little piles of books. It’s easier to stick with what you know.

But it was about time he had Martin over- the man had accepted him in every possible way, this couldn’t be the thing that would make or break their relationship. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

“Would you like,” he started again, taking a deeper breath. “To spend the night at mine on Saturday?” That would give him enough time to prepare, it was only Wednesday. “I could- I dunno, fix dinner, we could watch that movie you wanted to see? Or whatever, really. I don’t mind.”

Martin beamed a bright, shining smile that always made Jon’s heart flutter when it was aimed his way. “I’d love that, Jon! I’ll bring over some wine, we’ll make a night of it.” His arm wound around Jon’s waist, bringing him closer. “Fix you an omelette in the morning.”

“With the green peppers?”

“Of course. Oh! We could go for a morning stroll; you’ve got that lovely park by your house, yeah?”

“Mhm.” It was nice seeing Martin so excited. His anxiety eased, though he still felt the need to qualify. “It’s- well, it’s not the nicest place, but I keep it clean and-”

“Jon,” Martin’s elbow nudged his side, and he bent down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Any place is nice if it’s got you in it.”

“Sap,” Jon rolled his eyes even as his face flushed red.

He could probably do this. Right?

______

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Jon was twitchy and nervous the rest of the week, his mind spiraling as he considered every situation, even the most ridiculous. Martin’s not going to care if your flat is ugly. Martin’s going to take one look inside and suggest going back to his. Martin will like your cooking. It’s perfectly serviceable. Martin’s going to spit it out and-

“You alright there, boss?”

Jon jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice, almost dropping the mug he’d been preparing to wash. “Christ, Tim! Announce yourself next time, please.”

“That was me announcing myself,” he hopped up on the counter, giving him an easy smile. “What’s going on? You’ve been in your head all week.”

“I have not.”

“You asked me about the Ling statement twice today. It’s Friday. I finished researching it on Monday.”

Well then.

Jon sighed, putting the mug in the sink and turning to face Tim’s friendly concern. “It’s- hm. I’m having Martin at mine tomorrow, and- well, I’m a bit nervous.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Jon dodged the condescending pat to the back. “Seriously, that’s adorable. What’s there to be nervous about? You’ve been dating for three months, and pining for much more besides that.”

Jon’s hands gripped the counter with a renewed force. “I just want everything to be okay. I want him to think I’m a fully-functional human being, not someone who panics over having his boyfriend over. We’re always at his place, he’s always cooking for me. He deserves- he deserves everything.”

Tim hopped off the counter, face suddenly serious. “Jon, you’re quite literally Martin’s everything. It’s sickening with you two, honestly. You’ll be fine.” He threw an arm around his shoulder and Jon allowed it, just this once. “Now, what’re you cooking?”

“Well, there’s this pasta dish he loves at the Italian place on Third,” Jon began, his hands fidgeting nervously. “But it’s a bit...difficult to cook. I found a few recipes and I think I can recreate it, it’s just going to take some time and I’ve never worked with some of the ingredients and I might not have the right dishes for it and I don’t want to just substitute things-”

Tim cut off his rant. “That all sounds really lovely, but why don’t you just stick with something you know? That penne you brought to Sasha’s potluck last year- now that was good. And Martin liked it, right?”

“Well, yes,” Jon bristled. “But you think I can’t do it? It’s just a recipe, I should be able to follow basic instructions, I’m not stupid-”

“I didn’t say that, Jon,” Tim grabbed his shoulders and steered him into a seat. “I just think if you’re already this nervous about having him over, maybe you should minimize the stress, yeah? Lighten the load.”

“I can’t,” Jon argued. “I already bought all of the ingredients- I can’t just let them go to waste. I can do this.”

“Well, that’s the spirit!” Tim put a hand on his shoulder as Jon slumped over, leaning into the table. “Look, it’ll go over fine. Stop worrying. Martin will love whatever you make because you made it, alright? And if you need help, just give me a call. I’m not so bad in the kitchen myself, y’know.”

“Tim, you once set the toaster oven on fire because you left a cheese toastie in there for two hours.”

“Fuck’s sake, you set an oven on fire one time and no one lets you forget it-”

_______

The day arrives without much fanfare, besides a text from both Sasha and Tim declaring that “he had this!” and to “relax, it’ll go great!” Tim wasn’t very good at keeping secrets.

And of course, a text from Martin.

Looking forward to tonight :) Love you!

He straightens up his apartment and then un-straightens it when it looks too clean. He moves furniture to make it more centered, he studies the recipe a couple more times so when four o’clock hits he’ll be ready to start cooking. It’ll be on the table by six, right when Martin’s supposed to arrive. And everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.

But his books look wrong today. Messy, ugly, no sort of order. There are little piles and big piles. Even the ones on the bookshelf look bad somehow. He’s got authors and genres all mixed up. It looks stupid, laughable. Jon’s got to fix this.

He starts unloading them one by one, first in alphabetical order then later by genre, because that makes more sense, right? He switches them back to alphabetical after much consideration- that’s the easier one, of course. But then he gets online, sees all of these nice color-coded displays and wouldn’t that look nice on his bookshelf? He grabs the older, leather-bound books he keeps in his bedroom and brings them out to the sitting area. Now these should be displayed, these look nice. But then there’s no room left over and he’s surrounded by paperbacks he couldn’t find room for and Christ the place is a mess-

And then the doorbell rings.

Fuck. Fuck!

Of course Martin would get here early. Martin always shows up at least fifteen minutes early, but two hours is kind of pushing it. Maybe he wanted to surprise Jon with something, Martin’s very kind like that. Jon opens the door, hands shaking.

Martin’s standing there, looking flustered and harried. “Sorry I’m late!” he begins, giving Jon a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Late? “The trains were running slow again and I practically sprinted down the street- hope I didn’t mess up your plans, love!”

Jon looks down at his phone, dumbfounded. It’s six thirty.

It’s six thirty and there’s no dinner on the table. It’s six thirty and his living room’s a mess, books everywhere. It’s six thirty and Martin’s going to be so, so disappointed.

“Jon? Is everything alright?” He can barely make out Martin’s voice as his head swims; his arms wrap around his torso and dig into his body and all he can mumble is apologies.

“Sorry- I’m- fuck, I’m so stupid, I’m-”

“Hey, hey,” Martin’s voice immediately goes into that low, soothing tone that he uses whenever Jon’s upset. Whenever Jon makes everything about him when it should be about Martin for once. “None of that, now. Let’s go sit down, yeah?’ Martin immediately sets down his bag and his- oh God, he’s brought flowers and now Jon’s crying and everything’s wrong.

Martin’s steering him over to the couch with infinite care sits beside him, putting a hand on his knee and the other on his cheek, wiping his tears. It’s a gesture Jon loves but doesn’t deserve today. “It’s alright love, don’t cry. I’m here.”

“You’re- you’re here and I didn’t - I didn’t fix anything and nothing’s right, I’m so sorry-” Jon is well aware his words are barely intelligible, but that hardly matters now. Not five seconds in and he’s already ruined the night with his stupid, broken brain that just can’t fucking focus.

“You’re not broken, Jon,” He must have said the words aloud because now Martin’s got his face in his hands and is trying to make eye contact with him. “Don’t say that about yourself. You know it’s not true.”

“But it is,” Martin has to see that. What grown man can’t keep a schedule? What kind of adult loses three hours to a failed attempt at organizing books? Martin’s going to realize how messed up he is and he’s going to leave and Jon’s going to be alone again. “You- you deserve so much more than someone who can’t e-even make you dinner, can’t do one simple thing-”

“Jon, don’t- don’t say things like that. I know what I deserve, alright?” Martin pulls Jon to his chest and the pressure is good, stabilizing. “I love you, no matter what that brain of yours tells you. Okay?” He can only nod as the words bring on a fresh round of tears and he buries his face in Martin’s jumper.

It feels like hours before he calms down under Martin’s soothing hands and warm voice. He reluctantly pulls away to look the man in the eye. He deserves an apology that isn’t a breakdown. “I’m- I’m really sorry, though,” he sniffs, trying to keep his emotions in check. “It’s just- you’re always cooking for me and doing nice things and I wanted to pay you back.”

Martin’s brow furrows and Jon’s afraid he’s said the wrong words. “It’s not about paying me back, Jon. I cook for you because I want to, not because I have to. I like- well, it’s nice to finally have someone who appreciates it.”

Jon’s aware of Martin’s tempestuous relationship with his mother- he’s never brought Jon along on his visits, though he says that’s more to spare Jon than it is any judgment on their relationship. “She’s absolutely horrid sometimes, Jon. You don’t deserve that,” he said.

“Well, neither do you, Martin.” Jon never liked seeing Martin cry, though he insisted these were happy tears.

“You’ve got a lot of ingredients over there,” Martin murmurs, casting an appreciative eye over at the counter. “What were you planning on making?”

He pulls up the recipe on his phone, reluctantly handing it over to Martin. “I don’t think it would’ve turned out well, but I know how much you loved it when we-”

“When we went there on our first date,” Martin finishes. His eyes are watering- is he crying? “I’m sorry, it’s just- that’s so thoughtful, I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Martin,” Jon says incredulously as he winds his arms around the man’s neck. “I didn’t even make it.”

“It’s the thought that counts, Jon!” His voice is nasally and tight.

“Don’t- don’t cry Martin-”

“I can’t help it!”

“You’re going to make me cry again-” Martin chuckles at this and leans back on the couch, taking Jon with him in a mess of tears and laughter. “What a pair we make.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, love. Maybe we can make it together, yeah? Bond n’ all that.”

“That sounds nice,” Jon’s response is muffled by Martin’s jumper. “Would require getting up, though.”

“We’ve got some time. This couch is heavenly- you’ve been holding out on me, Sims.”

Later that night, after a few mishaps but an all-around good dinner, he’s back on the couch and back in Martin’s arms. He runs his fingers through Jon’s hair, a touch that quiets his brain for the first time all week.

As it turns out, the only thing his flat was missing was someone to share it with.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354958

Next in Series:

My Dearest

The Weight of Love

#prompts #my writing #tma #jonmartin #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #hurt/comfort #jon has ADHD #martin deserves the world and is a good boyfriend #hope you like anon!#Anonymous #adhd jon au

146 notes · View notes

limjaeseven · 4 years

Text

All You Need Is Love

Pairing: Jinyoung X Jaebeom ft Brian of Day6

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 13,515

Summary: Jinyoung has liked his boss for years but according to him he’s straight

Warning(s): Mentions of conversion therapy, mentions of suicide attempts, cute jjp, cute brian, CEO!Jaebeom, sad Jaebeom

[a/n]: This is my longest project yet and it took way too long to finish, a big thank you to @taetaesbaebaepsae and @birbdae for beta reading

The warm and comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee filled Jinyoung’s senses as he stepped inside his favourite cafe, situated just across the street from Jinyoung’s apartment at half past eight on Monday morning. Being the assistant of the richest man in the country meant Jinyoung barely, if ever, got a full night’s sleep in the middle of sifting through paperwork and making phone calls. Coffee was his lifeline, the only thing that kept him from falling asleep on the job.

The barista, Mark, a 26 year old man of Taiwanese descent greeted Jinyoung with a warm smile. With how often Jinyoung came to the café, there was no need for him to even give Mark his order, one Caramel Macchiato for himself and an Iced Americano for his boss.

After paying for his coffee and thanking Mark, Jinyoung stepped outside the café to see a car pull up in front of him. A short, blond haired man stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door for Jinyoung. Once he was settled inside the car, the driver closed the door behind him before getting back in and driving.

“Thank you, Jinyoung,” Lim Jaebeom, South Korea’s richest man and Jinyoung’s boss said when Jinyoung handed him his coffee. The man was only three years older than Jinyoung, at age 28 but had single handedly built an empire spanning four continents and fourteen countries. Offshore Corp. was immensely successful, making Jaebeom the fifth richest man in the world, and the youngest person on the list.

Jinyoung had met Jaebeom when the company was being run out of the basement of an office building in the outskirts of Seoul. The elder was looking for an assistant and Jinyoung had seen an advertisement on his college campus and decided to apply for it. Since Jinyoung was still in college getting his degree in Economics, he joined as an intern under Jaebeom. The two of them were inseparable ever since, becoming more of best friends than coworkers.

“You have lunch with CEO Wang today at the Black Plate followed by a meeting with Kang Corp. at four. Other than that you just have some paperwork to go through, the rest I have managed,” Jaebeom let out a deep sigh as he turned to his assistant. Sometimes Jaebeom wondered how he had scored such a hardworking and dedicated man to work under him.

“You are a life saver, Jinyoungie. What would I ever do without you? Also you have to come with me for lunch. Jiaer will kill me if I don’t bring you along,” The car pulled up in front of the office building. Jinyoung let himself out of the car as the driver opened the door for Jaebeom. The two of them made their way inside the building, heading to the top floor. Jinyoung spent his morning at his desk outside the CEO’s office till they had to leave for lunch.

Jackson Wang, CEO of Team Wang was one of Lim Jaebeom’s oldest friends. The two had grown up together in a small neighbourhood in Ilsan. They had been inseparable till Jackson moved to China with his family when they were in high school. Wang Jiaer came back to Korea three years after he graduated from college to start his own entertainment company. He, along with some help from Jaebeom and Jinyoung, set up Team Wang. Jackson had grown quite close to Jinyoung over the years and often invited Jaebeom over just so that he could hang out with the younger.

“Hyung! Nyoungie! So nice to see you two,” Jackson greeted as the two men sat across from the brunette. Lunch went just as usual, Jackson taking up all of Jinyoung’s attention with his jolly and over the top personality. Jaebeom’s angry chin made an appearance here and there when Jackson made an occasional joke at Jaebeom’s expense.

“Anyways hyung, you have to come to the Kang’s party next Friday, I hate attending those events alone,” Jaebeom sighed because he too hated attending big company events. He really didn’t have much of a choice since he was finalising a deal with them and it would not be good for him to not attend the party to welcome the new CEO of the company. If the deal took any longer to close, he would have to negotiate with the new head of the company.

“Don’t forget to get Jinyoungie along with you,” Jackson added, making Jaebeom chuckle.

“Sometimes I wonder who you like more, your childhood best friend or his assistant,” Jinyoung slapped Jaebeom’s forearm playfully at the comment. Jackson just snickered but didn't answer the question.

“Call Bambam and let him know that we’ll be attending the Kang’s party. We need to make a good impression in front of the new CEO.” Bambam was Jaebeom’s personal stylist, a 23 year old man with an impeccable sense of fashion. Jinyoung had met the man through his cousin Yugyeom, the two men had been dating each other for as long as Jinyoung could remember. Bambam had struggled to find a job as a fashion design major, so he approached Jinyoung for help and the older recommended the younger to put in his resume for an opening as Jaebeom’s stylist, and he ended up getting the job.

The week till the party was incredibly busy as Jinyoung rushed to finalise the deal with the Kang’s. In the end, the deal took too long to close, meaning they would have to finalise it with the new CEO. Before Jinyoung knew it, he was sitting with Jaebeom in a fancy salon getting his hair and makeup done before Bambam dressed both of them up for the party. The car ride to the venue was quiet, Jaebeom lost in his own thoughts. The two men were tired after a long week of endless meetings and paperwork.

“Hyung!” Jaebeom and Jinyoung turned around as they stepped out of the car to see Jackson running to catch up with them. The three of them made their way into the hall and proceeded to grab a couple of drinks from the bar before going to mingle with the crowd. Jinyoung spent most of his time glued to Jaebeom’s side as the older talked to colleagues, friends, old and possibly new investors. He exchanged polite smiles and made small talk with a few people he recognised in the crowd until Jaebeom excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving Jinyoung alone.

After searching and failing to find Jackson, Jinyoung decided to wait by the bar for Jaebeom. Jinyoung had been working as Jaebeom’s assistant for a long time but he still hated making small talk at company parties. The man was the type to prefer a night in with a good book over club nights. Jinyoung had just finished his drink when he heard a voice coming from next to him.

“Mind if I get you a drink, handsome?” The strawberry blonde haired man asked, settling into the bar stool right next to him. Jinyoung couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the stranger. His grey suit perfectly complimented his honey skin, his long legs folded gracefully, elbow resting on a knee.

“Sure, why not? I’ll have a Cosmopolitan,” Jinyoung played along, knowing full well that the drinks were free. The stranger nodded and called the bartender before ordering their respective drinks.

“Kang Younghyun, but everyone calls me Brian,” the stranger offered, glancing at Jinyoung. It suddenly dawned on Jinyoung that the person who just offered him a drink was the new CEO of Kang Industries.

“Park Jinyoung.”

Brian simply nodded, not asking anything about who he was. He offered Jinyoung his drink when it arrived and they made a bit of random small talk before Jinyoung received a text from Jaebeom asking where he was.

The night was pretty uneventful, Brian gave a short speech while accepting his new role as CEO. He kept making eye contact with Jinyoung throughout the speech for some reason. He wondered if Jaebeom had noticed it but the elder said nothing. Jaebeom dropped Jinyoung back at his apartment at the end of the night, offering him a small wave before speeding away.

Monday morning Jaebeom had his first meeting with Brian. Jinyoung didn’t want to admit it but he looked forward to meeting him again. The small interaction with the man had left quite an impression on Jinyoung.

“Park Jinyoung? What a surprise!” Brian said as he walked into the board room for the meeting.

“You know each other?” Jaebeom enquired and before Jinyoung could respond, Brian answered the question.

“We met at my promotion party. He’s quite the gentleman,” Jinyoung glanced at Jaebeom to see something flash in his eyes. It was short but Jinyoung was sure he saw it. Was Jaebeom angry? That didn’t make sense, there was no reason for Jaebeom to be angry. Jinyoung decided to brush it off and instead focused on the negotiations.

Once the meeting was over, Jinyoung escorted Brian out of the building. Just as he was about to get into the car, her turned around to look at Jinyoung.

“Are you free Friday evening?” Jinyoung nodded after thinking for a moment.

“I’ll come pick you up, we’re going for dinner together,” Brain said before handing Jinyoung his business card and getting into his car and driving off. Jinyoung turned the card over to see Brian’s personal phone number scribbled with a little ‘text me’ written on the back.

Jinyoung heard his name being called and looked up to see Jaebeom with an irritated expression on his face standing in front of him. He checked his watch to realise that they were late for another meeting. He slipped the card in his hand into his pocket before sliding into the car next to Jaebeom.

“So you know CEO Kang?” Jaebeom asked, staring out of the window. Jinyoung felt a little unsettled by Jaebeom’s tone, cold and indifferent.

“He offered me a drink at the party, I didn’t know he was the CEO till he introduced himself as Kang Younghyun,” Jinyoung half expected some type of reaction from Jaebeom but the man simply nodded and said nothing more.

Jinyoung texted Brian that night, sending a simple “hey, it’s Jinyoung”. He got a reply almost instantly, Brian sent him a picture of himself buried under a blanket with a “hey” back. They ended up texting for hours, sending cute pictures back and forth. It was almost three in the morning when Jinyoung finally decided to call it a night and fell asleep with a smile on his face thanks to the cute goodnight message accompanied by about a hundred emojis from Brian.

Jinyoung woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. The man dragged himself out of bed to open it and saw Jaebeom standing there with a worried look on his face.

“You’re never late so I got worried and thought I’d drop by to check on you.” Jaebeom nervously scratched the back of his neck as it finally dawned on Jinyoung that he had overslept and that he was, in fact, late for work.

Jinyoung stepped away from the door to let Jaebeom in with a mumbled apology as he rushed to get ready. Ten minutes later, he stepped out of his bedroom to see Jaebeom lounging on his couch, playing with his phone.

“I’m ready,” Jinyoung announced, making Jaebeom frown. He didn’t say anything as he stepped out of the apartment with Jinyoung and made his way to the car. Jaebeom whispered something to the driver before sliding in.

“Where are we going?” Jinyoung asked when he noticed them driving in the opposite direction from the office. Jaebeom continued staying silent, making Jinyoung feel frustrated. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of Jinyoung’s favourite diner that he visited on his off days.

“I’ve told you enough times that you’re not allowed to come to the office till you’ve had breakfast. I know full well how you forget to take care of yourself when you’re busy,” Jaebeom chastised as they both ordered food.

“I was up late last night, so I ended up waking late, you don’t need to worry so much, hyung. I know how to take care of myself,” Jaebeom looked at him with fake disappointment.

“Park Jinyoung? Staying up late? I’ve never seen you stay up after ten pm in the years that I’ve known you. Also don’t get me started on you not taking care of yourself. You’re the same person who collapsed because you forgot to eat during your final exams,” Jinyoung whined at Jaebeom’s comment.

“I was up talking to a friend. You know I need my sleep to function. Also that incident happened years ago, stop bringing it up every single time.”

Jaebeom just laughed as Jinyoung pouted, making Jinyoung even grumpier. When they finished eating, Jaebeom paid for both of them, much to Jinyoung’s dismay before heading to the car.

“Jinyoungie, are you free on Friday evening?” Jaebeom asked when Jinyoung came by his office later that day to give the elder some papers.

“Why do you ask hyung?”

“Investors dinner. You don’t have to come if you’re busy though, I just wanted to let you know if you’re free.”

“I’m sorry hyung but I have plans. I can cancel if you need me to come, though.”

“Absolutely not. You need to live your life, Nyoung. You’ve not dated in what, four years? It’s just to make the investors happy, I’ll survive on my own,” Jaebeom said with an air of finality. Jinyoung still felt bad that he couldn’t attend the dinner, but he also didn’t want to bail on Brian.

“I can hear you overthinking from here Jinyoung. Don’t worry about me, go enjoy yourself. You can leave early on Friday if you want, we only have one meeting in the morning,” Jinyoung nodded and thanked his boss before leaving his office.

He texted Brian as he sat down at his desk, letting him know that he’d be off early on Friday. Brian responded by letting him know that he’d pick Jinyoung up from his house at six thirty on Friday. Jinyoung immediately texted Bambam to drop by his house on the day of the date to help him get ready.

Friday rolled around and Jinyoung reached home at five, which was later than he had wanted so he texted Bambam before hopping into the shower. Just as Jinyoung stepped out, Bambam knocked on the door and Jinyoung let the younger in.

“Hyung you really need to go shopping, I only see dress shirts, pants and blazers here. Don’t you have anything dressy in your closet?” Bambam whined as he sifted through Jinyoung’s closet.

“Check the other cupboard, I think I still have some stuff left from college.”

Bambam moved to the smaller cupboard on the other side of Jinyoung’s room in his quest for the perfect outfit.

Since Jinyoung started working while he was still in college, he had adapted his closet and general dressing style to be more formal considering he didn’t have enough money to be able to afford both office wear and casual attire for college. Jinyoung had splurged a bit on a few clothes when he was still clubbing in his college days before Offshore and Jaebeom took up all his time.

“Jackpot!” Bambam shouted as he pulled out a pair of skinny jeans, a turtle neck and a leather jacket from the cupboard. They were all in black, classic for the minimalist that was Park Jinyoung. Bambam had him borrow the two inch heeled boots that he had been sporting in exchange for a pair of Jinyoung’s fluffy slippers for the night. A bit of light make up and an unnecessary amount of hairspray later, Jinyoung was officially ready and Bambam couldn’t be prouder of himself.

Jinyoung looked at himself in the mirror and was taken aback. He was so used to seeing himself in office wear that the look made him feel both off and confident because he knew he looked good. The black contrasted his pale skin perfectly, while the light and dewy makeup gave him an ethereal look. Jinyoung was busy checking out his ass in the mirror when he heard a knock on the door.

“Go get him, tiger,” Bambam joked, following the elder to the door. Brian stood there, dressed in white pants, a deep green shirt tucked in, strawberry blonde hair styled up. Jinyoung couldn’t help but stare at how good he looked. He wasn’t the only one though as he caught Brian eyeing him the same way.

“Shall we go?” Brian asked and Jinyoung nodded, bidding Bambam goodbye. Both of them made their way down to Brian’s car, a sleek sports car that exuded wealth without looking too flashy. Brian opened the door for Jinyoung before climbing into the car himself and helping Jinyoung put his seatbelt on. The younger couldn’t help but blush at the warm breath hitting his neck as Brian pulled the strap over his shoulder. Instead of making any move though, Brian simply smiled at Jinyoung before turning to start the car.

The restaurant looked extremely fancy, Jinyoung recognised it as one of Seoul’s most famous, having planned a company event at the venue. Brian held his hand out for Jinyoung to hold, walking him inside the building. The elder had already reserved them a table overlooking the brightly lit skyline of Seoul. They were making their way to the table when Brian saw a couple of his colleagues at a table nearby and asked Jinyoung to accompany him for a minute to meet them.

“Hey guys, having fun without me?” Jinyoung’s eyes scanned across the people in front of him and he recognised them as investors of Offshore. The brunette’s eyes widened as they fell on Jaebeom sitting right across from where he was standing.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebeom blurted out, questioningly. Jinyoung realised that he had never actually told the elder that he was going out with one of his biggest partners and rivals. Though the Kang’s and Offshore worked together every now and then, they were still each other’s biggest competitors.

“Lim Jaebeom, we meet yet again. Anyways, I promised Jinyoung dinner so we should get going. I’ll see you guy’s later.” Brian led Jinyoung towards their table but Jaebeom and the younger’s eyes held for just a moment, Jinyoung suddenly feeling guilty for some reason. He wondered if his boss would be mad at him for going out with his rival. He quickly diverted that train of thought with reasoning that he had the right to date whoever he wanted, regardless of whether they were or weren’t related to Jaebeom.

Dinner was a lot of fun, much to Jinyoung’s delight. Brian was witty, making the younger laugh out loud multiple times. Out of habit, Jinyoung held his hand up to cover his hand as he laughed, but Brian reached over and grabbed his wrist to pull it away.

“You have a beautiful smile, don’t hide it,” Brian chided playfully. After splitting one bottle of unnecessarily expensive red wine and some peach cobbler for dessert, both of them were ready to leave. Brian excused himself to the washroom for a moment and Jinyoung sat alone at the table. He let his eyes wander and almost immediately he met eyes with Jaebeom yet again.

The expression on his face was indescribable, one the Jinyoung had seen only a few times in the years he knew Jaebeom. It sent chills down Jinyoung’s spine, making him feel vulnerable and exposed with just the way the elder looked at him. It caused some old memories and feelings to resurface which Jinyoung immediately buried by looking away from Jaebeom and shifting his attention to Brian, who had by then returned. The elder motioned for Jinyoung’s hand and held it once more, guiding him out of the restaurant.

The drive back to Jinyoung’s apartment was quiet, though not awkward. Brian turned up the radio to fill the silence. Jinyoung wanted to say something but every time he went to, Jaebeom’s expression flashed in his mind. He didn’t know why he felt so guilty, he was just on a date with a guy he met at a party they attended. When they reached under Jinyoung’s building, the younger unbuckled his seat belt and turned to Brian. The older just smiled sweetly at Jinyoung, making him feel a little bit better as he smiled back.

Jinyoung was about to turn away to open the door when Brian leaned in. Instead of kissing him on the lips though, Brian grabbed a hold of his jaw and turned it away to place a soft peck on the brunette’s cheek. The older ruffled Jinyoung’s hair for good measure before whispering a soft goodbye. Jinyoung waved at him as he drove away and went up to his apartment.

Bambam had fallen asleep in Jinyoung’s guest bedroom by the time he got home. The younger often stayed at Jinyoung’s house, Bambam got scared of things sometimes and found comfort in the elder. Jinyoung changed into pyjamas and cleared up the take out boxes the younger had left behind before heading to bed.

Jinyoung was absolutely exhausted, the deal with the Kangs had been keeping him up late at night as he read through contracts, contacted lawyers and briefed Jaebeom. Dinner with Brian was a good break but seeing his best friend there threw him off. Jaebeom’s expression was the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes.

Jinyoung’s heart ached as he thought of his hyung. He looked almost like he was hurting but it made no sense why the older would feel like that. It reminded Jinyoung of a memory he had been trying to bury for years. One that he never wanted to think about ever again but he couldn’t help but indulge in it as it resurfaced.

Park Jinyoung was 19 when he met twenty two year old Lim Jaebeom. Both of them were young, trying to find their way in a newly opened world to them. Jinyoung will never forget the job interview he gave to join Offshore. He had seen a flyer at his college advertising vacancies in the company and one of Jinyoung’s juniors, Youngjae had told him that Offshore was owned by his older brother’s batch mate, college bad boy, extraordinaire Lim Jaebeom.

Jinyoung hadn’t originally planned to apply for Offshore but fate brought him to the dingy basement of an old office building with his CV in hand. The small space had about ten people crammed inside it, one of them Jinyoung recognised as Youngjae’s older brother. Some of the people were sitting on the floor, working on ancient looking laptops as papers flew around. Jinyoung was greeted by a messy haired Jaebeom whose tie was crooked and smile was sheepish.

Jaebeom absolutely grilled Jinyoung during his interview which was impressive for the owner of such a small business. After an hour of them going back and forth, Jaebeom leaned back against the old plastic chair he was sitting on and rubbed his eyes, mumbling a little ‘you’re hired’.

Over the course of the next two years, Jinyoung became well acquainted with what he called the ‘World of Lim Jaebeom’. It was clear from the very beginning that Jaebeom had big dreams and he was determined to fulfil them. The first time they launched a product line or website or some other project successfully, Jaebeom would always smile softly and congratulate all the employees before retreating to his office. Jinyoung always wondered why the elder did that and later found out that every time they succeeded, Jaebeom used that as an opportunity to plan the next three steps, never basking in the glory for more than a few minutes.

Jinyoung was the only one over the years who was allowed into Jaebeom’s private life. The elder had always been reserved, a man of few words. He was the only one, other than Jackson, who knew Jaebeom’s parents personally, the only one who knew about his love for RnB music and cheesy, romantic movies. Jinyoung had become a constant in Jaebeom’s life and vice versa.

At some point Jinyoung had realised he had started liking his hyung more than just as a friend. It was like having high school crush, Jinyoung looked forward to every moment he spent with the elder and thought about him at random moments throughout the day, becoming hyper aware if his boss was ever a little too close to him.

Jinyoung knew that Jaebeom had only ever been with women before but the man had never said anything against dating men. When Jinyoung came out as gay to Jaebeom, he had been supportive and encouraging, telling Jinyoung that he didn’t need to be afraid of his sexuality. The two men had even talked about finding other men attractive a few times.

The chances of the Lim Jaebeom ever liking Jinyoung were close to none, Jinyoung was well aware of that. But there were certain things that his hyung did that always made him question if he did feel something for his assistant. Like the caramel macchiato that sat on his desk the days he ended up falling asleep in the office. Like Jaebeom venting to Jinyoung about his family and crying himself to sleep, wrapped warmly in Jinyoung’s embrace. Like cuddling after long days at work on Jaebeom’s couch, watching Titanic for the millionth time, Jaebeom nuzzling his face in the crook of Jinyoung’s neck.

The time the actions started though was the most memorable to Jinyoung. Offshore was doing better than ever and they had just closed their biggest deal till that point. Jinyoung was busy contacting the lawyers about the next contract as per Jaebeom’s request when the elder burst out of his office, telling Jinyoung to accompany him for a last minute lunch meeting.

Jaebeom and Jinyoung drove in the former’s newly bought car to a restaurant, specifically Jinyoung’s favourite restaurant that the younger visited on special occasions since he was still not earning enough to afford meals their often. They settled down and the waitress asked for their order and Jinyoung was just about to tell her that they were waiting for someone, but Jaebeom interjected and ordered for both of them, knowing Jinyoung’s order by heart.

“What about the client?” Jinyoung asked and Jaebeom smirked.

“He’s already here.”

Jinyoung looked around the restaurant but found no one who he recognised as one of their clients.

“He’s sitting right in front of me.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at the elder’s comment, confused.

“I know how hard you worked on this deal and just wanted to treat you as thank you. I knew you would say no if I told you why we were coming here,” Jaebeom said, scratching the back of his neck nervously, almost as if he was scared about how Jinyoung would react.

“You know you don’t need to thank me, hyung, it’s my job. But anyways, now that we are here, why not enjoy ourselves?” Jinyoung asked and instantly saw the nervousness of Jaebeom’s face melt into a small smile. The two men enjoyed their lunch, talking about anything and everything. That day was the day that Jinyoung and Jaebeom became best friends on top of being coworkers and the seeds of Jinyoung’s crush on the elder were sown.

Jinyoung tried not to think too much about the elder’s actions but one incident made him almost sure that Jaebeom was at least physically attracted to Jinyoung. The two men had gone out for drinks at a local bar three years into them working together, wanting to take a break from the hectic routine at work. Jaebeom had dragged Jinyoung to the dance floor, both men considerably drunk. Jaebeom gripped at Jinyoung’s waist, pulling his waist against the elder’s chest and the two men grinded against each other. When the song slowed down though, Jinyoung turned around and threw his hands around Jaebeom’s neck and stared up at him. Jaebeom leaned down, warm breath dusting Jinyoung’s lips.

Jinyoung could see the lust pooling in Jaebeom’s eyes as he ghosted over the younger’s lips. And just as they were about to kiss, someone bumped into Jinyoung, spilling his drink all over the brunette. Jaebeom ended up almost punching the guy and Jinyoung had to drag his boss out of the club to stop a fight from breaking out. He hailed a taxi and helped Jaebeom inside. By the time the taxi reached Jaebeom’s apartment, the elder was fast asleep so the younger had the driver drive them to Jinyoung’s house.

With a lot of effort, Jinyoung was able to drag Jaebeom into his apartment. He laid the elder on his bed and went to sleep on the couch. When the younger woke up, Jaebeom was nowhere in sight but a caramel macchiato, a sandwich and a small ‘thank you’ note sat on his coffee table.

But everything changed the night Jaebeom invited Jinyoung to his parent’s home for dinner. Jaebeom told him that his mother wanted to meet her son’s assistant cum best friend. Jinyoung was nervous but he agreed. The brunette was buying flowers for Jaebeom’s mom when the florist, Yedam, came up to him asking if he needed any help.

“I’m going to meet my boss’s mom for the first time” He explained and the florist picked out a bouquet for him. Jinyoung knew him from the time he had moved into the neighbourhood. Jinyoung loved flowers so he went their quite often.

“So, you found anyone?” Yedam asked as he wrapped the flowers, the man knew well about Jinyoung’s love life, or the lack of it.

“Not yet, but there is one guy who I’ve got my eyes on. He’s completely out of my league though.” Jinyoung sighed, but before Yedam could reply, he heard a gasp from behind him. A woman in her mid-fifties who was standing behind him, probably waiting to get some flowers wrapped, dropped the bouquet in her hands. Jinyoung turned to ask her if she was okay but she pushed him away from her, making Jinyoung fall to the floor.

“Don’t touch me, faggot,” she spit out. Jinyoung was taken aback at her comment, but he wasn’t surprised. He lived in a country that just didn’t accept people like him, it was a well-known fact. He was just so used to having supportive friends that he had forgotten what it was like to be cursed at for being gay.

Jinyoung stepped aside and allowed Yedam to help the woman with her flowers. He tried to apologise to Jinyoung for the woman’s actions but Jinyoung immediately cut him off, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. Jinyoung just took the bouquet from Yedam and paid for it before heading to his car. The drive to Jaebeom’s parents’ house was short but Jinyoung felt uneasy the entire time. The brunette put it off as a mix of emotions from the woman cursing at him and the nervousness to meet Jaebeom’s parents.

Jinyoung stood outside the door for a while before he was able to muster enough courage to ring the bell. He nervously tapped his foot as he heard the door unlock from the inside. A smiling Jaebeom greeted Jinyoung, motioning him to go inside the house. The elder was dressed in a plain black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black slacks.

“How do you always manage to look so smart in simple clothes?” Jaebeom commented with a groan. Jinyoung was clad in a simple white t-shirt with beige pants, horn rimmed glasses and sandals. The elder had always been jealous of Jinyoung’s fashion sense, using every opportunity possible to complain.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself, hyung,” Jinyoung said with a wink. As the two men spoke, Jaebeom’s mother stepped out of the kitchen, heading to the living room to meet her son’s assistant, she saw Jinyoung winking at him.

“You? What are you doing in my house?” Jaebeom’s mother shouted, glaring at Jinyoung. The brunette was taken aback as he realised that Jaebeom’s mother was the lady he met at the flower shop.

“Mom, you know Jinyoung? What’s going on here?” Jaebeom asked, confused by the angry and terrified expression on his mom’s and best friend’s faces respectively.

“How dare you let a faggot into our house, Lim Jaebeom? Get this scum out of here, now!” She shouted, turning her attention to Jaebeom. The elder was surprised at his mother’s behaviour, she was always known for her sweet nature and quiet demeanour.

“What are you talking about, Mom?” Jinyoung didn’t know whether to apologise to Jaebeom and leave or just run away so he just stood there, frozen in his place.

“I heard him talk to that Yedam kid at the flower shop today about liking a man. A man, Jaebeom! And now, not only is this pest in my home, he was winking at you! I’m sure he was trying to seduce you to corrupt my son. Throw him out of here, fire him for all I care! I will never allow a faggot to step foot in my house.”

Jaebeom’s face turned red as he processed what his mother was saying. Daring to take a peek at Jinyoung’s devastated face, Jaebeom felt beyond guilty.

“What’s going on here? What’s with all the ruckus?” Jaebeom’s father asked as he stepped out of the kitchen, confused about all the noise coming from the living room.

“Jaebeom here brought a faggot into our house, that’s what’s wrong. Doesn’t even have the courtesy to leave when it’s clear that he’s not welcome here,” she said, pointing at Jinyoung, making him snap out of his daze. Just as Jinyoung was about to apologise and leave, Jaebeom cut him off.

“That’s enough Mom. Jinyoung here is my assistant and best friend. So what if he’s gay? You know well that I’m straight so why does it matter if he’s friendly with me? He’s the most hard-working employee in my company and you will not speak to him like that,” Jaebeom snapped, making both his mom and Jinyoung gasp. Jaebeom’s mother, angry at her son, stormed out of the room.

“Jaebeom, I get that you’re hurt by what your mother said but you will not disrespect her either. Jinyoung, I’m so sorry about what she said to you. She’s always been who believed in old traditions and morals. There’s nothing wrong with you being gay, rather I want you know that I for one will always support you, because you’re Jaebeom’s best friend and Jaebeom’s friends are like my own children to me. Jaebeom, take Jinyoung out for dinner tonight will you? Take him to his favourite restaurant and treat him to his favourite food, as a sorry and a thank you from all of us,” Jaebeom’s father said, looking at Jaebeom and Jinyoung.

The younger had tears in his eyes at the words of the old man, and he tried his best to keep them in. But when Jaebeom’s father opened his arms, Jinyoung couldn’t help but hug the man tightly, slowly crying onto his shoulder, whispering small ‘thank you’s. The man just chuckled and patted the brunette’s head before letting him go and waving him goodbye.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, Jaebeom apologising multiple times but Jinyoung cutting him off every time, telling him that what happened was not his fault. The bouquet that Jinyoung bought for Jaebeom’s mom lay forgotten in the back seat of Jinyoung’s car, a reminder of the incidents that happened at Jaebeom’s parent’s house. Jinyoung had learned three important things that night. One that Jaebeom’s mother would never like him, two that Jaebeom’s father was one of the nicest men Jinyoung had ever met and three, most important of all, that Jaebeom was straight.

Jinyoung didn’t sleep well that night. Even his dreams were plagued with Jaebeom, the look on his face crystal clear as he looked at Jinyoung from across the restaurant. The only difference was that it was only the two of them in the room in his dreams and it felt like Jaebeom was staring directly into Jinyoung’s soul, seeing the feelings that Jinyoung knew well that he still had but spent his days denying.

Bambam dragged Jinyoung out to Mark’s café for breakfast. Fortunately they were the only people in at the time so Mark joined them for their meal. Bambam chatted excitedly about Yugyeom getting accepted into Team Wang as a trainee. Yugyeom had texted Jinyoung the good news himself that morning and Jinyoung sent him a short ‘congratulations, now go make some money of your own so that you’re not living off of your boyfriend’s earnings’.

Just as they were finishing up breakfast, Bambam got a call from his mom so he left early, leaving Jinyoung and Mark together. Jinyoung helped Mark clear up the table, ignoring the elder’s protests and ordered a caramel macchiato. Just as Jinyoung paid for his drink, a couple came into the café. Mark turned to attend to them while Jinyoung sat at his favourite seat next to a large window overlooking the street outside and watched as people walked past the café.

Jinyoung was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realise that the couple had left till Mark sat down in front of him, now free. The elder observed Jinyoung for a few moments, eyebrows furrowed. The younger looked back at him with a confused expression, lifting one brow.

“What happened, Nyoungie?” Jinyoung should have seen the question coming, he thought. Mark was well known to be the most observant of all his friends, being the first one to know if anything was wrong. Jinyoung thought about it for a second, whether to tell his hyung what was going through his head or not. In the end he decided to open up to Mark in hopes of some insight.

“Maybe you’re just overthinking things, Jinyoung. The best thing to do is just talk about it. Communicate with him instead of making assumptions and hurting yourself” Jinyoung just nodded, knowing that Mark was right. Jinyoung stayed at the café till lunchtime, wished Mark goodbye and headed home. Fortunately Jinyoung had leftovers in his fridge because he was in no mood to cook.

The brunette spent the entire day lounging in bed and on the couch, watching trash TV and making a few work calls. He had just finished taking a shower when he got two notifications at the same time on his phone, one from Brian and the other from Jaebeom. As much as Jinyoung wanted to talk to his best friend, he still wasn’t ready to talk to him after the previous night so he unlocked his phone and opened Brian’s chat where the older had sent him a simple ‘hey’.

Jinyoung ended up texting about the most mundane things with Brian but he somehow made it feel like they were talking about the most fun things in the whole world. Halfway through the conversation Jinyoung’s phone started ringing, showing that Brian was calling him. Jinyoung rolled over on his bed, lying on his stomach and picked up the call.

“What’re you up to?” Brian asked after exchanging the normal pleasantries.

“Just hopped out of the shower when you texted me.”

“Oh my lord are you dressed? Jinyoung, don’t tell me you’re trying to seduce me.” Jinyoung involuntarily tightened his hand against the top of his bathrobe. The brunette was dressed in only his boxers and the aforementioned robe.

“Shut up, I just need to throw on a t-shirt, you perv.”

“Do you have to?”

Jinyoung keened at Brian’s flirty comment. The younger leaned back against the headboard, hand still gripping the robe.

“Are you trying to seduce me right now?” Jinyoung shot back. Just as Brian was about to say something, Jinyoung’s phone started vibrating. He pulled it away from his ear to see an incoming call from Jaebeom. That made Jinyoung sit up and stare at his phone. Jaebeom rarely called Jinyoung’s spare number unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Hey Brian, I have an urgent call that I have to pick up. I’ll text you later.” Jinyoung told Brian who replied with ‘that’s alright, good night, Jinyoung’. Jinyoung cut the call with Brian and picked up Jaebeom’s call. Jaebeom was saying something, but Jinyoung couldn’t hear anything clearly due to loud noises in the background.

“Jinyoungie, Jinyoungie” Jaebeom kept repeating the younger’s name, his speech slurred and voice giggly. Jinyoung realised that the elder was most probably drunk, causing him to act like that.

“Hyung, where are you?”

“At a bar, it’s really loud. The music is pretty cool though. I want another drink but the bartender won’t give me more and that made me sad so I called Nyoungie because Nyoungie makes Beommie happy.” Jinyoung tried to think of where his hyung might be. According to what he said he was pretty drunk and Jinyoung had to bring him back.

It suddenly clicked to Jinyoung that Jaebeom mentioned music. The elder hated music at normal clubs so he had found a small jazz bar in Seoul where he went when he really needed a drink to unwind.

“Hyungie, hang in there for me, will you? I’ll come and pick you up. Just wait for me.” Jinyoung said into the phone, throwing his jacket on and grabbing his keys. Jinyoung tried not to think about the comment the elder made about the brunette making him happy as the liquor talking as he drove to the bar.

Jinyoung spotted Jaebeom the moment he stepped into the club. The elder sat slumped over the bar top, chatting with the bartender. The club fortunately was small and exclusive, meaning the public wouldn’t find out about multi-millionaire Lim Jaebeom getting wasted and whining like a child. The bartender smiled at him as he approached Jaebeom, relieved that someone had finally come to pick the man up.

“Hyung, I’m here, let’s get you home.” Jinyoung shook Jaebeom’s shoulder, causing the elder to stir and sit up straight on the bar stool. Jinyoung cursed internally at how incredible his boss looked, dressed in dress pants, a plain white tee and a black blazer. His hair was mused due to him running his hand through it one too many times, a habit of his that he did when he was stressed.

“Jinyoungie came for Beommie!” Jinyoung tried not to act too surprised at how his boss was acting. The brunette had known Jaebeom for years and had gone out for drinks numerous times with him but not once had his cold-eyed, sharp-jawed hyung ever act like a pouty child. All Jinyoung wanted to do was to coo at Jaebeom and kiss his pouty lips but he instead concentrated on dragging the elder to his car and buckling him into the passenger seat.

“Hyung are you okay?” Jinyoung asked, glancing at his hyung who was slumped in his seat, eyes glossy as Jinyoung drove them home. Jaebeom just pouted more and fiddled unconsciously with the seat belt. Jinyoung waited for a couple of minutes for an answer but when he received none he turned to see Jaebeom sleeping. Reaching over, Jinyoung adjusted Jaebeom’s head to make sure his neck wasn’t hurting before turning back to the road.

After a bit of struggle to get Jaebeom out of the car and into Jinyoung’s apartment, he laid the elder down on the bed and took off his shoes. Jinyoung pulled the blanket over Jaebeom when he felt a hand grab his elbow. He turned to see Jaebeom’s eyes half open as he stuck out his hand from under the blanket to hold onto Jinyoung.

“Don’t leave Beommie. Nyoungie can’t leave Beommie,” The elder whined, pulling Jinyoung towards himself. Even though he didn’t put a lot of force, Jinyoung tripped on the carpet and fell right on top of Jaebeom. Their chests pressed up against each other as Jinyoung stared at Jaebeom with wide eyes. The elder wrapped his hand around Jinyoung’s waist and pecked his nose before dozing off.

Jinyoung’s body froze up as he felt the warmth of Jaebeom’s lips on his nose. He tried to move out of Jaebeom’s grip but Jaebeom just clutched him harder. The brunette had to resolve to kicking his shoes off and slowly squirm his way out. After almost fifteen minutes of struggling to loosen Jaebeom’s arm around him, Jinyoung gave up, turning his cheek to put some distance between their faces. Nuzzling his nose in Jaebeom’s neck instead, Jinyoung inhaled the scent that he always associated with Jaebeom, a strong mix of musk and citrus. Despite the adrenaline in Jinyoung’s body, it didn’t take long for the man to fall asleep in Jaebeom’s embrace.

Morning light filtered through the soft white curtains in Jinyoung’s room, causing the brunette to stir. He opened his eyes to see a head of raven hair and the peaceful face of Jinyoung’s boss. Still stuck in the haze of sleep, Jinyoung smiled softly as he small the tranquil expression on Jaebeom’s face. Without thinking, he lifted one of his hand to brush the man’s hair away from his face. Jinyoung felt a strong, warm hand in the small of his back pull him close to the elder and he nuzzled his face in the crook of Jinyoung’s shoulder.

Jaebeom slowly came to his senses as he felt the warm body against him. He tried to figure who he was hugging, but couldn’t remember anything past going to the club for a drink. Jaebeom pulled away from Jinyoung and looked up at him. Their eyes met for a moment and the realisation finally hit both of them as the scooted away from each other instantly.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebeom looked around and realised that he wasn’t in his own apartment and was, in fact, in Jinyoung’s bedroom. The younger had a mortified expression on his face as he tried to collect himself to reply to the elder.

“You called me from the club last night, hyung. You were wasted and so I brought you home. I was about to leave you here to sleep on your own but you very adamantly made me sleep with you.”

Both the men felt their ears turn red and blushes spread on their cheeks as they took in the words Jinyoung said. Though well aware that it didn’t have any sexual connotations they couldn’t help that their minds wandered.

An awkward silence had settled between them, which Jinyoung hated, because before they visited Jaebeom’s mom, the two were used to cuddling and sleeping in the same bed together. After the dinner, the elder kept their relationship just about the same but the skinship had stopped abruptly.

It felt like the silence was choking Jinyoung, tightening its grip around Jinyoung’s throat. Instead of letting it get worse, Jinyoung excused himself to the bathroom, wanting to take a cold shower to clear his head. He lost track of how long he spent under the harsh spray of freezing water but by the time he was out, Jaebeom was gone.

Stepping into the kitchen to grab something to eat, Jinyoung noticed a full English breakfast, warm and ready on the counter. Jinyoung checked his phone to see a text from the elder apologising for troubling him and thanking him for the help. Jaebeom knew well that Jinyoung’s guilty pleasure was treating himself to the exorbitant foreign meal in front of him and it warmed Jinyoung’s heart, despite the awkward moments between the two not minutes prior.

Jinyoung remembered to text Brian in the morning, not wanting to spend the entire day stuck in his own head. He went out on a limb and invited the older over for dinner, which the latter happily accepted. The brunette spent the next few hours cleaning up his house and preparing snacks. Jinyoung wasn’t the best cook in the world so he ordered some food while waiting for Brian.

The bell rang at exactly six thirty as Jinyoung was fixing his hair in the mirror. The brunette was greeted with a warm smile, a bouquet of pale pink peonies and a bottle of red wine. Jinyoung felt his cheeks heat up at the elder's sweet gesture.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll get glasses for the wine." Jinyoung stepped aside and let Brian inside, walking to find a vase for the flowers. He joined the elder on the couch with two wine glasses and Brian poured the deep red liquid for both of them.

They chatted for an hour, talking about everything from work to their childhoods and everything in between. Words flowed between the two as they slowly polished off the bottle. They had gotten so comfortable on the couch that Jinyoung got the food from the dining table to the tea table in the living room for them to recline together and eat.

"So, everything fine from yesterday? You sounded pretty worried." Brian asked.

"A friend got pretty drunk and called me to bring them home. They're fine, just a bit stressed with work," Jinyoung explained. He didn't feel like mentioning that it was Jaebeom for some reason so left him out of the details.

"It's good that they're fine, but they interrupted something didn't they?" Jinyoung almost choked on his wine as Brian eyed him suggestively.

"You were trying to seduce me before we got cockblocked, weren't you?" Jinyoung quipped back. If Brian could be flirty, so could he.

"I was, wasn't I? So tell me, do you want to be seduced?" Brian raised Jinyoung's chin, whispering the words in his ear.

"What if I already I am?" Brian just chuckled at Jinyoung's response, pulling him in to kiss him. Just as their lips were about to touch, both of them jumped as the doorbell rang loudly.

After a moment of awkwardly staring at each other and laughing it off, Jinyoung got up to actually open the door, though he had no idea who could be on the other side of the door.

"Hyung?" Jinyoung asked, confused. Lo and behold, the Lim Jaebeom was standing outside Jinyoung's house, dressed in sweatpants and a large t-shirt with a photo of Snoop Dogg printed on it, two plastic bags hanging off his left arm.

"I got you your favourite pastry from Mark's cafe and some beer as an apology for last night."

Jinyoung's eyes darted guiltily inside his house, locking with Brian's in a silent apology. The elder just smiled and got off the couch, walking up to the door to leave.

"Is there someone here-Oh Younghyun-ssi, nice to see you again," Jaebeom said as he spotted Brian standing behind Jinyoung.

He was smiling at Brian, but Jinyoung knew well that it wasn't his real smile, it was instead the one he put on when he was mad but couldn't show it in front of investors.

"The pleasure's all mine, Jaebeom. Jinyoungie and I had just finished eating. It is getting late so excuse me, but I will be taking a leave. Text me when you're free."

Brian turned to Jinyoung and gave him a side hug and bowed at Jaebeom before leaving.

"Did I interrupt something?" Jaebeom asked belatedly.

"Maybe? Kinda?" It took a moment for the elder to realise what Jinyoung was intending and instantly he looked away, his ears burning red.

"Did you have to imply that I was cockblocking you?" Jaebeom groaned and Jinyoung just chuckled.

"Your words, not mine, hyung" He winked at the elder, snatching the bags from Jaebeom's hand and ushering him inside. The two settled on the couch and ate the sweets, Jaebeom cracking open a beer while Jinyoung passed, already buzzing from the wine.

"So, you and CEO Kang, huh?" Jaebeom asked, turning to see a nervous looking Jinyoung.

"Are you mad?" The question came out almost as a whisper, voice drenched in nervousness

"Why would I be mad Nyoungie? It's your life, Younghyun and I might be rivals but you're still my best friend and it's my duty to cheer you on, not get mad" Jinyoung let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. The elder just chuckled and patted Jinyoung's shoulder.

The patting suddenly stopped, causing Jinyoung to look up at his hyung. Jaebeom had a mortified expression on his face, almost as if he had seen a ghost.

"Hyung are you okay?" Jinyoung asked, sounding concerned.

"Did I say something dumb last night on the phone or when you picked me up?"

"Why do you ask, hyung?" Jinyoung didn't mean to let his hyung know that he had, in fact, said more than a few things to Jinyoung in his intoxicated state but his rushed voice gave away the truth, making the elder groan and bury his face in his hands.

"I tend to say dumb things when I'm drunk while I'm stressed Jinyoungie. Jackson had once recorded me while I was drunk and I kept talking about the things that were stressing me out, things that I didn't realise myself. Though that is not necessarily a bad thing, I tend to sound a bit, how do I put it, 'childish' when I'm drunk," Jaebeom confessed.

"I wouldn't say childish, more like cute."

Jaebeom glared at Jinyoung's cheeky comment, grabbing him by the back of the neck and tackling him on the couch.

Fighting like that, they ended up with Jinyoung laying on the couch and Jaebeom half straddling the younger, holding his hands above his head in order to render them useless. Jaebeom's face hovered over Jinyoung's their breaths mingling when for the second time that day, they realised what position they were in.

Jaebeom immediately pulled back, allowing Jinyoung to sit up. Both of them took a moment to collect themselves, waiting for the other to break the silence. For once, it was Jaebeom who broke it.

"No but really, what did I say?"

"You mean what Beommie said?" Jinyoung imitated the way the elder spoke the night before, making the elder groan even more.

"You said and I quote, 'Nyoungie makes Beommie happy'. I never thought you could be so cute hyung. Imagine Offshore's Lim Jaebeom, cold, smart, ruthless business man acting like a literal five year old when drunk, I could never."

Jaebeom punched Jinyoung's arm playfully, to which Jinyoung reacted by hissing and holding on to his arm.

Worried that he hurt his best friend, Jaebeom grabbed the younger's wrist to check his arm, only making him laugh loudly. Jaebeom hit him properly to teach him a lesson, rewarding the ravenette with a pouty Jinyoung.

"Well that is true though, you do make me happy," Jaebeom stated simply making Jinyoung's eyes widen.

"You can't just say things like that so casually, my poor heart. But I agree, you make me happy too, hyung. I love you, and I'll always be grateful for having a friend like you"

For the third time in the previous few days, Jinyoung saw something flash in his eyes. It felt almost like Jaebeom was bitter about something. He just said a simple 'I love you too' back before changing the topic.

Their conversation lasted late into the night and Jinyoung ended up falling asleep with his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder. The elder, noticing that the younger was asleep due to the lack of response to a question he asked, moved to pick Jinyoung up and took him to his bedroom, laying him down on his bed. Just as he was about to leave, he took one last look at the younger’s face, a soft smile adorning his face and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Jinyoung’s forehead.

It was almost as if a switch went off inside Jinyoung as his eyes shot open, staring at the elder who was still leaning over him. Making awkward eye contact for a moment, Jaebeom whispered ‘goodnight’ before leaving the room. It took a few minutes for Jinyoung to process what had happened. His hand shot up to his forehead, rubbing gently over where he had felt the elders’ lips.

It took a while for Jinyoung to fall asleep after that, early morning light peeking through his curtains as he finally fell into restless sleep. He woke up a little after one in the afternoon, groaning at his ringtone that woke him up. The man shuffled to find his phone, picking the call without checking the contact.

“I wanted to let you sleep in today since you slept late last night but Jackson will absolutely kill me if I don’t bring you along for lunch today. I’ll pick you up in about fifteen minutes” Jaebeom cut the call before Jinyoung could even process what he was saying. He took a moment to blink the sleep out of his eyes before he jumped out of bed and hopped into the bathroom for a quick shower, quickly blow drying his hair and throwing on a pair of khaki dress pants with an oversized baby blue sweater and some sandals. Just as Jinyoung grabbed his wallet and house keys, he heard his phone ring, letting him know that Jaebeom was waiting for him downstairs.

The elder greeted him with a smile, leaning on the car’s door, dressed in a powder blue suit and a white shirt with the top few buttons undone, his hair which was longer than usual, framing his face. Seeing Jinyoung approach the car, Jaebeom pulled away to open the door for the younger, letting him get in before closing the door and walking around the car to sit in the driver’s seat. Jinyoung was rather surprised that Jaebeom was driving the car, so used to being driven around by their driver over the years as their empire has grown. The drive to the restaurant was quiet, some random pop song playing in the background when they reached their destination.

“Oh my god you two have finally upgraded to couple outfits. Does this mean Jaebeom hyung finally had the guts to ask Jinyoungie out?” Jackson fake screamed when he was rewarded with a slap to his arm at the comment. Jinyoung looked at Jackson with a perplexed expression, feeling butterflies in his stomach as he processed the implications of the words, while Jaebeom was openly seething at his best friend, before turning to look apologetically at Jinyoung.

Lunch was a torturous affair for Jaebeom as usual, with Jackson constantly making fun of the man, much to Jinyoung’s delight as his laughter filled the room with every new joke or old memory Jackson uttered. There was an almost melancholic smile on the elder’s face, the expression pulling somewhere deep within Jinyoung’s heart. He looked lost in his thoughts, and the Jinyoung felt a strong urge to pull the man into a tight hug and comfort him.

“Hyung” Jinyoung said some twenty minutes later, causing Jaebeom to snap out of his haze. Jackson was getting up to leave, letting them know that he had an urgent meeting to attend before walking away, leaving the two men along at their table. Jaebeom looked at Jinyoung before looking down at his plate, realising that neither of them had touched their food since it had arrived some half an hour prior. Signalling Jinyoung to eat, the two men finish their meals in silence, nothing other than the clatter of cutlery hitting the plate to be heard.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung said once more, his plate closed, back straight, hands folded in his lap. Jaebeom looked up from his food to see the younger’s tensed shoulders and nervous expression and closed his plate, sitting up properly to hum thoughtfully at him. The younger took a moment to look Jaebeom in the eyes, breathing in deeply to calm himself down and collect his thoughts.

“What was Jackson talking about?” Jinyoung could hear Jaebeom’s breath catch in his throat as his eyes widened, the older looked like he’d been caught red handed at some crime. Jaebeom brought his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing the skin there harshly. After a moment of awkward silence, Jaebeom cleared his throat to address Jinyoung.

“I may or may not have liked you since the day I met you? I get it if it’s super sudden and kinda creepy and also if I’m too old and you don’t like me like that. By the way you totally got your job on your own merit, I don’t want you to think that I hired you because I liked you, and now I’m just rambling and making a fool of myse-,“ Much to Jaebeom’s relief, before he could embarrass himself further, Jinyoung leaned towards Jaebeom, wrapping an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

Jaebeom whined as Jinyoung pulled away, chasing the younger’s lips as he moved to sit back in his seat. “I thought you didn’t like me, hyung,” Jinyoung admitted, looking down to where his fingers played with the hem of the table cloth. “I mean there were times when I felt like we had a connection but after what happened with your mom I just, lost hope, I guess.”

Jaebeom smiled sadly as he recalled the incident with his family and Jinyoung.

“I have known I’m into guys for a long time, Nyoungie. The reason why my mom is so paranoid is that when I was in high school, she found me and my boyfriend at the time cuddling in bed and grounded me for weeks, sending me to the church to see if they could do anything about my ‘degeneracy,’ as much as I tried to lie to her that we were just friends. Church was not great, there are things that happened there that I don’t want to think about but before anything major could happen, my dad realised something was wrong and got me out of there. He sat me down and talked to me in a way mom never had, he told me he loved me regardless of who I loved, but he told me to be careful around my mother and also made me promise to introduce all my future boyfriends to him in exchange of him getting me out of that whole fiasco,” Jaebeom confessed.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

Jaebeom just shakes his head, smiling at Jinyoung before talking the younger’s hand in his own and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m sorry for ruining the mood, we can talk about that sometime else. Right now there are more important things to talk about.”

Jinyoung raised his eyebrow at Jaebeom’s comment. The elder smiled, dropping down to one knee on the floor, Jinyoung continuing to look at him questioningly as he ignored the lingering eyes around them from the other patrons of the restaurant.

“Park Jinyoung, my Jinyoungie, I have known you for many years and liked you, nay, loved you for just as long. Will you be my boyfriend?” Jinyoung giggled as he nodded, paying no mind to the soft applause of the crowd around them, instead pulling Jaebeom up to place a kiss on his lips. “First of all, why you gotta be so cute? Second of all, did you just tell me that you love me, Lim Jaebeom?”

“I’m not cute, I’m sexy and also yes, Park Jinyoung, I love you, a lot.”

Jinyoung laughed at the elder as he paid for their meal and stepped out to hop into Jaebeom’s car that took them to the office. The whispers around them were audible as Jaebeom laced his fingers with Jinyoung’s as they stepped into the building, a soft blush dusting the younger’s cheeks.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung called out later that day as he stepped into Jaebeom’s office, his tablet in hand. “The news is already out,” Jinyoung sounded nervous as he turned the tablet for Jaebeom to see but the elder paid no attention to it.

“What news, baby?”

Jinyoung almost whined at the nickname, glaring at the elder, who smirked, his eyes still glued to the screen though he was completely aware of Jinyoung’s reaction.

“About us dating. Someone at the restaurant took photos of us and it’s already out on most online news sites, it will most likely be in the papers by tomorrow.”

Jaebeom finally turned to Jinyoung, a knowing smile on his face. “Well then, I’ll draft a statement that you can release tomorrow morning, let the internet speculate for tonight. You can go through it and edit it if required, just in case you feel uncomfortable about anything I say.”

Jinyoung nodded, turning away to leave the room.

“Jinyoungie?” Jaebeom said, making Jinyoung halt and turn back to his boss. “I love you. Drive back to my place tonight? I can treat you to dinner.”

Jinyoung smiled, nodding. He knew that he loved Jaebeom, but there was something holding him back from saying it out loud, the words getting stuck in his throat. The sudden conflicted expression that crossed Jinyoung’s face was enough to make Jaebeom understand and he just sent him off with a flying kiss.

The drive to Jaebeom’s place was quiet, Jinyoung cuddled in the elder’s lap as the shared kisses as whispers back and forth. Jaebeom, as promised, cooked dinner for the two of them when they got home, the two eating in a shared silence as Nora and Odd circled around their feet under the table. Jinyoung shooed the elder away to take a shower, taking it upon himself to wash the dishes and put them in their places before heading to Jaebeom’s bedroom.

Jinyoung settled on the bed, the sound of the shower going along the only sound in the room. He looked around the room, reminiscing the times he’d spent there with the elder, the memories of their friendship and companionship flooding his senses. The last time he had been in Jaebeom’s room, he had felt his heart break to pieces, the way the two of them had pulled away from each other, the closeness between them alien, had felt like an arrow piercing through his rib cage, the pain blooming in his chest. J

Jaebeom stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping down his neck as he brushed a hand through his wet hair. The smirk that Jaebeom was very clearly failing to hide showed that the action was on purpose, and Jinyoung could also play along. He looked straight at the elder’s face, eyes challenging, which just made Jaebeom chuckle and head to his closet to find an extra towel to dry his hair and his pyjamas to change into.

Jinyoung stared at the way the muscles in Jaebeom’s back rippled as he pulled on a t shirt over his head, immediately looking away when the elder turned around. Jaebeom didn’t fail to notice the way Jinyoung’s ears went red at almost getting caught but decided to tease the younger about it on a later date. Turning back to search through his armoire, Jaebeom pulled out some clothes and threw them at Jinyoung.

“Wait why do you still have these?”

The clothes Jaebeom gave him were Jinyoung’s clothes back from when he used to actually spend time with the elder at his house. He didn’t recollect leaving them with Jaebeom because they had become part of his closet so naturally. Jinyoung used to spend so many nights at the elder’s place that he just left one set of home and work clothes in his closet. Jinyoung couldn’t believe it had been nearly two years since that fateful night.

“I realised that after what happened with my mom you wouldn’t be very comfortable staying over but I didn’t have the heart to throw any of it away and part of me wanted to still keep it, knowing that there was a time where you were a part of my life” Jaebeom confessed, making Jinyoung coo at the elder.

“Well, you only gave me a drawer before, this time you’re clearing half your cupboard cause I’m not going anywhere” Jinyoung made grabby hands, making Jaebeom laugh and climb the bed to press a soft kiss to Jinyoung’s lips. Once the younger took a shower and got changed, he slipped under the covers, cuddling close to the elder before being lulled to sleep.

The dating announcement received mostly positive responses from the public, Jaebeom holding a press conference to confirm the rumours. Jinyoung did receive some amount of hate, but Jaebeom stood by him through all of it. There were some investors and employees who left due to their ideology clash but it was mostly civil. The country was far from accepting LGBTQ+ people openly but Jaebeom had been too loved by the community to be shunned over it.

Jackson took it upon himself to release a statement immediately after theirs, openly supporting the couple and coming out himself, confessing that it was the strength of his friends that gave him the courage to talk openly about being gay and being proud about it.

The three of them went for dinner together that night, Jackson adamant of celebrating the new it couple of Korea. They decided it was probably best to finish early though, since they were exhausted from the events of the day.

Just as they stepped into Jaebeom’s apartment after dinner, the elder’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket to check the contact and his face paled immediately, his hands shaking. Jinyoung rushed to check on his boyfriend, glancing down to see his mother’s face on the phone. He held onto the elder’s shoulders and urged him to look at him, forcing him to take deep breaths before Jaebeom picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Jaebeom’s voice quivered as he spoke, the call on speaker so that Jinyoung could also hear.

“I don’t check the news for one day and you announce that you’re dating that faggot. Didn’t I tell you to fire him years ago! Jaebeom what has he done to you? I should have never let your dad take you out of the church programme!” Jinyoung placed his hand over the elder’s fist as he grinded his knuckles into his thigh, clearly angered.

“Listen to me carefully, Jaebeom. You’re going to fire that boy immediately and tell the public that it was a lie or something” Before Jinyoung could stop Jaebeom from saying something like last time, Jaebeom had already lost his cool.

“Enough is enough mom! I’ve known I’m gay for years but I never told you because I knew you wouldn’t accept it. Do you have any idea what they did to me in the church? Ask dad about it sometime. Had he not gotten me out of there you might have not had a son right now. I love Jinyoung and regardless of what you say I’m not leaving him, not now, not ever. If you can’t accept me like this then so be it,” Jaebeom cut the call, his face red, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung whispered, the sound making the elder collapse into his arms. They laid like that for hours, Jinyoung’s shirt getting drenched with the elder’s tears. It broke his heart, he had been lucky enough to have a supportive family. He didn’t want to be the reason Jaebeom stopped talking to his mother but he also loved his boyfriend.

Just as Jinyoung was about to drag the elder to bed, his phone rang once again, startling them. Jaebeom had half the heart to ignore it, but when he saw his father’s caller id, se instantly sat up, wiping his tears before picking up the call, putting it on speaker and placing it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Jaebeom?” Jinyoung smiled despite himself at the sound of Jaebeom’s father’s voice.

“Dad,” Jaebeom mustered, his voice was audibly broken and he didn’t have the energy to hide it.

“I tried to stop her from calling you, but she waited till I was out of the house. I’m really sorry about everything she said. I love you, my son, and I hope you know that,” The tears rolled down Jaebeom’s cheeks once again as he mumbled an ‘I love you too’ to his father.

“And Jinyoung?” The younger made a startled noise at his name being called out.

“I know you’re listening, I just wanted to apologise to you too, for what Jaebeom’s mother said. I’ve seen how my son looks at you, please take care of him, he makes me worry sometimes. And you two are coming here immediately, didn’t I tell you to introduce me to your boyfriends, Jaebeom?”

“But dad I literally asked him out yesterday! And anyways you’ve already met Nyoungie before,” Jaebeom said.

“You two have already started with the cute nicknames, huh? I briefly met him two years ago Jaebeom. I’m so sorry it took so long for this brat to tell you his feelings, he’s a bit dumb, don’t know where he gets it from” Jaebeom whines at his father’s comments are Jinyoung laughs, thanking the elder before cutting the call.

Jaebeom sighed heavily as he looked up at the younger, his hands wiping at his face to get rid of the tears. There was a comfortable silence between them, both having accepted that their relationship wasn’t going to be easy. It took a while for them to finally get up but they did, eventually moving to the bed to actually get a good night’s rest.

The following week they visited Jaebeom’s parents’ home, both of them buzzing with anxiety. Jaebeom squeezed Jinyoung’s shaking hand firmly, silently reassuring him before ringing the bell. Jaebeom’s father opened the door with a bright smile, ushering both of them inside and giving them warm hugs.

They had just settled down in the drawing room when Jaebeom’s mother came in, her fingers fidgeting and her gaze lowered. Jinyoung immediately stiffened looking at her, the anxiety strongly surging its way up his spine.

“Jaebeom can I talk to you in private for a moment” Her voice was little above a whisper, words strained. The elder turned to Jinyoung, giving him a soft smile before following his mum inside.

“Jinyoung, thank you for loving my son. He has secrets that not a lot of people know about, things he’s gone through that have left him scarred. I had almost thought I lost my son at one point but then you came into his life. I remember the day he hired you, he smiled for the first time for what felt like years. I didn’t think I’d get to see my Jaebeom smile again but I did, thanks to you. He finally opened up to Jackson after meeting you, helping him heal more. You got him out of hell, Jinyoung. I’m not going to put a burden on your shoulders by saying you fixed him or whatever, but you did help my son a lot. Love him for as long as you can, and even if that’s not forever, you’ll always be my son and I’ll always be grateful that Jaebeom and I got the opportunity to get to know you” Jinyoung nodded, using one hand to wipe away his tears as Jaebeom’s father pulled him in for a hug.

Jaebeom returned shortly after with his mom, both of their faces tear stained. Jaebeom’s mother stood in front of Jinyoung, pulling him in for a hug, making the younger surprised. She cried apologies into his shoulder, rambling nonstop as Jinyoung rubbed her back to comfort her. Once she had calmed down, she pulled away, chuckling awkwardly at the scene before pulling him to the dining room for dinner.

Conversation after that flowed easily, the air of awkwardness having been swept away. They had their fill of Jaebeom’s mother’s food, stuffed till bursting. The goodbyes weren’t sad or forced, they genuinely enjoyed their time and Jinyoung hoped that in the future he could spend more time with them.

Days after that flowed by quickly, Jinyoung finally moving in with the elder six months into their relationship with his lease expired. Things were going fine till they weren’t. Jinyoung woke up in the middle of the night once to see Jaebeom’s face twisted in pain, his body covered in sweat. He shook the elder awake, who jumped as he came to his senses.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jaebeom just nodded, washing his face and drinking some water before cuddling Jinyoung back to sleep, ignoring his protests. This went on for months, Jinyoung waking up at least once a month to the elder screaming in his sleep. Every time he asked about it though, the elder clammed up and his brain shut down, refusing to respond to his questions.

Exasperated and worried he called Jackson who told him to give Jaebeom some more time. He waited for a total of three months before barging into their bedroom one evening and locking the door behind him, trapping the two of them inside of the room.

“Hyung please, just tell me what’s wrong. I know it’s hard to talk about but I can’t bear to see you screaming in your sleep every other night. I don’t want to force you to answer but please, let me in, let me help you” Jaebeom looked scared as he met eyes with Jinyoung, sighing heavily before dragging Jinyoung into bed with him.

“I don’t know where to start Jinyoungie, I want to tell you everything but I feel like if you found out how broken I am you’ll want to leave” Before Jinyoung could protest Jaebeom held one hand up, breathing deeply before starting again, “I told you about church being bad, but never what happened there. They tied us up and threw us into small dark closets, trying to ‘pray the gay away’. We tried to get out but just got caught and the punishments got worse. They tried so many different things I barely remember most of it. I tried to take my life at least three times while I was there but I every time I failed and they called me weak for trying and a coward for not going through with it. I’ve had bad nightmares since I left but it slowly got better till a few months ago” Jinyoung ran his hand through the elder’s hair trying to calm him down.

“I was at in my office when Youngjae came in, saying that someone wanted to meet me. I thought it would a client or something but it turned out to be one of the priests. He said he wanted to check up on me after he heard about us dating. I was about to get him escorted out but he started chanting the prayers that they used to make us say there and my brain just shut down. I couldn’t move, Jinyoung, it was like I was back, trapped in that closet with no food and water, begging to be let out. I felt like I was about to faint when Jackson barged into the room for our scheduled meeting and saw me like that. He had the man leave and sat by me as I cried myself to sleep. I told him everything when I woke up and made him promise to not tell you. I’m broken, Jinyoung, I might look like a strong man but I’m not. I scream in my sleep and cry like a child, I get if you’re not interested in handling my emotional baggage.”

“Hyung, I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I want you to heal. I think the first thing you should do is visit a therapist, you need to get all of these emotions out safely and you need help. I’ll be by your side through it all” Jinyoung reassured the elder, his own eyes wet with tears.

“I was too scared to try but I want to, for us, Jinyoung. I love you so much” Jinyoung felt the words rise up his chest as he looked at the elder bear his scars to him.

“I love you too, hyung” Jaebeom’s face broke into the brightest smile he’d ever seen as Jinyoung spoke those words. It took him a while to say it for the first time but he knew that Jaebeom knew that he loved him regardless of whether he said it or not.

Jaebeom went to therapy soon after, finally opening up about his past completely. The nightmares got better and he eventually testified against the conversion therapy being done in his church, leading to the priests being convicted. Healing wasn’t easy for Jaebeom, he still screamed in his sleep sometimes but Jinyoung was always there by his side, taking care of him, and for them, that was more than enough.

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levisnackajack · 4 years

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The Wrath of War

A/N

I had enough inspiration to write up another chapter. I had to skim through the events bc we all know how it went! Please let me know if you wanna be tagged or if you enjoyed the story!

Chapter Three

Success.

Eden felt as though her heart would jump through her lungs and out of her chest.

She was one of the top ten cadets in the 104th Southern Division. Scoring third after Mikasa and Reiner.

In all honesty, she couldn’t care less about being part of the top ten. It wouldn’t change the fact that she would sign up as part of the Survey Corps. She just wanted to know that when she challenged herself; she was able to succeed; regardless of whether the mission held meaning to her.

Eren pulled her and Mikasa into a tight embrace after the ceremony; Armin running to join in as well. They laughed and smiled; Eden felt like she was listening to the most beautiful song in the world.

The fierce girl held rare moments like this protected behind the walls of her tender heart. Within pages of a book concealed from the outside world.

That book was filled with memories of her and her friends. Her parents’ faces were barely visible on any of the pages.

Her childhood wouldn’t necessarily be classed as tough. But it made her struggle as she grew; the lack of parental affection making her yearn to fill the void with all the love her friends would gift her. She was an only child; her mother wasn’t the exact epitome of a loving parent and her father was too busy with work; he almost always forgot when her birthday was each year.

Eden grew to never depend on others (apart from her friends, of course); because she knew that no one in this world owed her anything and all luxuries came with a price.

Brushing her cold thoughts aside; Eden beamed against Eren’s jacket, eyes widening at the sound of Mikasa’s soft chuckle. She looked up; her own shock reflected in tboth boys.

The naturally somber mood soon came back and settled around everyone. Eden was so used to seeing glares, frowns and listening to gruff voices; the flicker of a smile was incredibly strange.

“This is it guys. We’re so close, I can practically feel the ODM gear strapped onto me as we fight these fuckers beyond the walls,” Eren announced darkly, tongue gliding against his lips. Armin nodded and Mikasa’s eyes sparkled.

Eden sucked in a deep breath, lashes brushing against her skin as her eyes slipped shut.

Soon, all this training would pay off. Her life would have a grander meaning.

She smirked.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Eden huffed as she listened to Jean swearing under his breath beside her. Freshly graduated, her division was tasked with cleaning the artillery unit atop Wall Rose.

No one verbally complained- but everyone looked very much disappointed. Each cadet yearned and thought over what their future branch would entail.

Suddenly, all their thoughts were cut short by a figure which loomed over the wall, making their blood run cold.

Commands were yelled out, ODM gears were tightened and the sound of the shrieks echoed through the air.

But with a loud crack, the Colossal Titan disappeared as quickly as it appeared. There was no time left.

The fresh cadets mixed with the Trost Garrison unit; intently listening to the strategy that could potentially cost them their lives.

Eden was split up from Eren and Armin; tasked to accompany Mikasa and the elite Garrison unit with ensuring that all civilians were evacuated away from the northern gate’s rear.

The girl did not know when the wall was breached; when the Titans swarmed in. It all happened way too quickly; she didn’t have enough time to catch her breath before the soldiers around her began dropping dead.

Squeezing the grapple hooks of her ODM gear, the clasps sunk into the flesh of a titan with its back facing her way. Activating the gas mechanism, Eden propelled herself forward, heart beating soundly as her mind assured her that it was all a game.

Just another mindless target like the ones we trained on during our time with the Training Corps.

Twisting her blades through the air, she let out a bloodcurdling scream as the surface of her weapons carved out the back of the titan’s nape. A moment later, it crumbled to the ground; the girl standing on its back hooking her clasps onto the wall of the closet building.

Eden felt nauseous. She begged her mind to stop racing. She needed to focus.

Soldiers around her fought for their lives only to be ripped into shreds between the teeth of the inhumane murderers.

Following Mikasa, they battled hard against the seemingly infinite swarm of titans gushing through the breached wall. It was only when Armin’s cry reached her ears caused her to lose her concentration; that flicker of a second nearly costing the girl her life. Meticulously slicing the titan’s fingers off; she sprinted up its arm; her next blow aimed at its nape.

Too many of them, too little soldiers.

Eden abandoned her post, slaughtering any monster in her way as she looked for Armin and Eren.

She found the blond boy with his head down, skin a sickly green color, eyes flowing with tears. Her own hazel eyes widened, cold chills peppering her skin.

“Armin, where’s Eren?”

Nothing.

She asked him again, this time harder only to have his eyes meet hers in response. She took a step back. His answer had a cost of over one thousand words.

Her mind must have completely blanked out- she didn’t notice Mikasa’s presence who had followed her back to their friend. She didn’t notice how her fellow raven-haired friend sprinted off the rooftop soundlessly, fingers pressing on the gas mechanism recklessly.

Eden no longer had control over her body. Throwing herself into the sea of titans, she slashed and punctured every demon in her way.

It was only when she heard the unfamiliar screech that something snapped in her- waking her of the nightmare reverie that took control of her body. Grief.

Still bruised and bloodied, Mikasa, Armin and Eden helped Eren up as he silently fumed at the confrontation. The Garrison Regiment...everyone was afraid of him. They had pointed canons at the four soldiers; their lives saved by Armin’s persuasion abilities that miraculously worked on Commander Pixis.

Hurriedly making her way beside Mikasa, they jumped from one rooftop to the other; eyes planted on Eren.

Eren was a titan.

He had let out that same screech that had made everything tremble around Eden. Eren was responsible for saving all the surviving soldiers during the Battle of Trost. He had thrown himself to rip apart any titan in his way.

Now, it was their duty to protect him as he risked his life to seal the breached wall.

It took time and effort and a few more lost lives; but eventually Eren carried the boulder atop his shoulders; wedging it in between the broken wall. Eden and Mikasa followed him closely; taking turns mutilating incoming titans as the other one trained her eyes onto Eren.

Once Mikasa had pulled Eren’s unconscious body out of his titan form; Eden swore under her breath as they backed up against the sealed breach. More titans headed their way.

Eden tore her eyes away for them, raising a brow at Mikasa.

“How much gas do you have left?”

Mikasa checked her mechanism, shaking her head slightly. Eden nodded, flexing her wrists as she gripped her blades tightly. Activating her hooks, she gracefully flew through the air towards the first titan. A tall, incredibly ugly-looking titan. She clicked her tongue as she moved out of reach when it swung at her. She drove her dagger through its flesh, grinning as its blood sizzled against her blade.

It was almost like a dance to her. Whipping through the air; carving through its nape; jumping off its back and onto the next victim. She felt like she could drown in the exhilarating feeling their deaths gave her. Knowing that one less person would suffer the traumatic scene she had witnessed when she was at the tender age of 13.

After God knows how many slashed titans; Eden landed on the shoulder of an Abnormal. Her brows knitted together, she mustered enough energy to strike its spinal cord before someone clashed into her from the side.

She gasped, panic overwhelming her as she struggled against the tight hold latched on her waist. A soft “tch” echoed through the air. Eden opened her eyes in confusion; her ponytail coming undone as her savior gripped her painfully tightly. She stared up at him puzzled; his bored, hooded stare, clenched jaw and knitted brows.

Before she knew it; the man had thrown her onto the ground beside Mikasa carelessly; his compact green cape flowing with the wind as his silver eyes landed on her face for the first time.

“Idiot. Did they not teach you to keep an eye out on your surroundings? Where is the Alpha Squad?” He inquired, his voice cold and emotionless. But the contortion of his expression betrayed how deeply irritated he was with Eden.

“It’s just...us right now,” Eden replied, her tone reflecting his own, causing the man’s eyes to narrow dangerously. He scoffed, muttering an insult under his breath directed towards Eden before grabbing at his blades and heading back towards the titans.

Eden felt the goosebumps litter her skin. She was so focused on that titan; she probably missed one trying to kill her from behind.

She watched in awe as this man nonchalantly placed himself back into the battleground; his moves graceful and lethal.

Eden wondered who the hell this man was.

#attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman #levi #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x oc #oc #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #fanfiction #fanfic #slowburn #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #levi ackerman smut #snk x oc #aot x oc #shingeki no kyojin

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

Chapter 24 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

Friday isn’t any better than Thursday. Though Madi and Mitch kind of filled up the void in my heart yesterday, it just seems to seep out the very next day. I don’t go to school yet, but Madi does today. Her mother allowed her to skip once, but not twice. I don’t blame her for it. Just because my life is ruined and I have no future, doesn’t mean Madi’s life needs to be ruined too. No. I want her to thrive. I want her to graduate High School and go to her dream college. I want her to have the things I don’t have. “Muffin,” Mitch’s voice sounds from the other side of the bedroom door, “I made you breakfast. Can I come in?” I let out a chuckle at how adorable my uncle is. He’s been like that since last Saturday. Just the cutest, greatest uncle alive. “Yeah, come in!” I sit up straight in bed, placing my phone to the side. I’d been scrolling through Tumblr aimlessly. At least the memes are still somewhat hilarious. Unless they’re memes Charlie sent me, because then I cried. “Made you some eggs, your favorite comfort food besides Madi’s mom’s lasagna!” He places the tray on my bed, the delicious smell of freshly made eggs hitting my nostrils. “If it were healthy to eat that much lasagna, even in the morning, I’d let you. But you know… Got to stay healthy.” He sits down at the end of my bed and grabs his own plate. “What movie are we watching today?” he asks before taking a bite. I grab the other plate and start eating too. “You can choose,” I tell him and take a bite, then hold up my finger to tell him to wait until I swallow. “But it can’t be a musical or anything Disney. Especially not Aladdin!” “Ten Things I hate About You?” He suggests hopeful. I think about it for a moment, then nod my head. “Kat does play guitar in that, though?” I shrug. “At least they don’t break out into music every other minute and it’s not the guy that plays the guitar because that would remind me of… you-know-who…” I tell him and take a sip from the orange juice he’d brought along. “Voldemort?” Mitch jokes. I tilt my head a little and raise my eyebrows as if saying ‘really, dude?’. “I’m kidding, Muffin. ‘Ten Things’ it is then!” We continue eating in silence for a moment which gives me the time to think about life. What am I going to do with my life? Since the Music Academy didn’t work out and I don’t have the band anymore, maybe I should do something more … Parent-approved. “I’m thinking of looking into other colleges,” I blurt out, capturing my uncle’s attention. “Maybe check out those colleges my parents wanted me to go to. I do like languages? Maybe I could do something in that direction?” “Are you sure you want to do that, Muffin?” I take a deep breath, placing my knife and fork on my half-empty plate. “It’s better than doing absolutely nothing, you know? I can’t spend my entire life wrapped up in blankets, eating eggs and lasagna and ice cream, and cry. I mean, I can keep dreaming like I’ll live forever but I have to live it. Now or never.” I can’t help but smile at the fact I just quoted the boys’ song and I think Uncle Mitch even noticed it too. “Wise words,” he says with a smirk, “But yeah, I mean, if you really want to do that, then I’m 100% behind you, Muffin. Whatever you need.” The smile on my face widens at this, and it surprises me that my lips can still curl up this far. It feels like I haven’t done that in forever. Mitch’s smile then suddenly vanishes. “Does that then mean you’re going back to your parents’?” he asks. I swallow the lump in my throat. I hadn’t even thought of that. “No,” I reply, “No, I don’t think so… Unless you want me out?” “No! God no! I could never do that to you.” It stings a little hearing him say that since my parents could, apparently. But at the same time, it makes me happy, knowing I have a man who loves me stand on my side for once. “You’re the best, Uncle Mitch, you know that?” The smile reappears on his face, along with a slight blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I heard that before,” he chuckles, “I love you, Muffin.” He places his plate on the tray again as I do the same with mine, knowing a hug is about to ensue. “I love you too, Mitchy.” I wrap my arms around my uncle’s neck as he wraps his around my waist. A bunch of oxytocin releases in my body, and for the first time in about a week, actually makes me feel happy again.

“I hate the way you talk to me, And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare. I hate your big, dumb combat boots, And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, Even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, Not even close, Not even a little bit, Not even at all.” I recite the poem along with Kat as Mitch and I sob. This movie always makes me cry, no matter how many times I watch it. It’s such a feel-good sad movie, perfect for the situation. My phone rings then, and after having blown my nose and wiped my tears, I pick it up. Ash’s name flashes on the screen. “Hey, Ash,” I greet with a slight quiver of my voice. “Have you been crying?” she asks, her voice instantly filled with worry. “Yeah, Mitch and I are watching 10 Things I Hate About You.” I glance over at Mitch, who’s sniffling in his tissues. “Ah,” Ash says, “The poem.” “Yah, the poem,” I whisper. In the background, I hear a couple of faint voices. She’s probably at the store, handling some customers. “So, anyway, I’m calling to see if you would like to come help me out a little. I asked my brother the last couple of days to fill in for you, but he can’t, and I really don’t have anyone else…” The voices in the background come through again. One of them faintly sounds like Owen, but I could be wrong. “It’s fine if you’re not up for it… I just really could use your help.” I draw in a deep breath. “I’ll come,” I say, which makes Mitch snap his head towards me in surprise. “Really?” Ash asks, not expecting me to say ‘yes’. “Yeah, I could use some distraction, I guess,” I tell her, and rise from the couch. “I’m going to get showered and dressed and then I’ll come, okay?” I hear the voices in the background again. I swear I hear Owen and Jeremy now. “Yeah, perfect! Thank you, Emily!” She sounds relieved. “No problem, Ash. See you in a bit.” “See you.” We both hang up and I start making my way upstairs. “What’s happening?” Mitch asks me before I get to the stairs. “Ash asked if I wanted to come help,” I tell him nonchalantly and rush up the stairs. I quickly take a shower, put some jeans and a top on, add a light layer of makeup and we’re done and ready to go. “You’re leaving the house?” Mitch asks, following after me as I grab my stuff. “On purpose?” “Yes, I am. It might do me some good,” I tell him with a simple shrug. “Okay… I’ll see you tonight then?” I’ve never seen my uncle this confused. “Yes, see you tonight,” I kiss him on the cheek and run out of the house, grabbing my bike to get to the store as fast as possible. It sounded kind of urgent when Ash called me. Plus, if those voices really were Owen and Jeremy, I might still catch a glimpse of them. The store is completely empty when I arrive. Ash is behind the counter, reading a book. “I’ve never seen it this quiet,” I tell her as I drop my bag onto the counter, making Ash jump. “Hey, Emily!” She says louder than necessary. “Hey, thanks for doing this! Uhm, my girlfriend kind of needs me, so…” She pats my shoulder before grabbing her bag and leaving the store in a hurry. I start sorting through invoices, wishing Charlie were here to do it for me because Ash’s handwriting has gotten gradually worse. As if on cue, I hear guitar strumming. Is this in my head? No, it’s actually happening. There’s no Charlie to be seen, only his voice to be heard. “First things first We start the scene in reverse All of the lines rehearsed Disappeared from my mind” He now appears from behind the wall and into my eyesight, an apologetic smile on his face. “When things got loud One of us running out I should have turned around But I had too much pride” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I can’t move a muscle. I’m completely frozen. “No time for goodbyes Didn't get to apologize Pieces of a clock that lies broken” My heart beats faster at the sound of his voice. He sounds incredibly sad and remorseful. “If I could take us back If I could just do that And write in every empty space The words I love you in replace Then maybe time would not erase me” My breath hitches in my throat, and I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes, getting ready to escape. I thought all my tears had dried up. “If you could only know I never let you go And the words I most regret Are the ones I never meant to leave Unsaid Emily” Finally, my legs start moving and I walk towards the grand piano where the boys make me jump by starting to play their perspective instruments. Charlie follows me and takes his place behind the microphone, the volume of his voice increasing along with the impact of his words. “Silent days Mysteries and mistakes Who'd be the first to break Guess we're alike that way” My legs give out now, and I drop down onto the piano’s stool. “He said, she said Conversations in my head And that's just where they're gonna stay forever” Tears are now rushing down my cheeks as if they have a race to win. All the while Charlie’s voice gets more and more vulnerable. “If I could take us back If I could just do that And write in every empty space The words I love you in replace Then maybe time would not erase me” I missed this boy with all of my heart. How did I even survive days without him? “If you could only know I never let you go And the words I most regret Are the ones I never meant to leave Unsaid Emily” The boys take a musical intermezzo, just singing out ‘aah’s while Charlie walks up to me. He holds my gaze, his eyes teary and filled with absolute sadness that breaks my heart into pieces. I can tell he’s missed me too. I can tell he’s trying to make amends using the only medium he knows so well. His voice now gets lower, and he’s singing the bridge to me with only his guitar guiding him. “If I could take us back If I could just do that And write in every empty space The words I love you in replace Then maybe time would not erase me” The boys now pick it back up too, making my heart swell and feel heavier and heavier with sadness. Sadness Charlie feels and resonates with me through his music. “If you could only know I never let you go And the words I most regret Are the ones I never meant to leave Unsaid Emily” He finishes off with a couple more chords on his guitar before completely stopping. “Charlie…” I sniffle, wiping my tears with the back of my hand, but he shakes his head. “Please, Emily, let me talk?” I nod my head to give him permission. “The boys and I, we’re really sorry for ruining your chance with the Music Academy. We tried, but we couldn’t get you a new audition. But we realized, all of us realized, that we didn’t want to be a band without you. We just couldn’t do it. You’re so important to all of us, you’ve changed all our lives for the better. There’s no way we could go on, knowing you were angry at us. So, I wrote this song for you since that’s the only way I seem to be able to convey how I feel…” I chuckle airily, making him chuckle too. “Please, Emily… I can’t not have you in my life.” “Can I talk?” He nods his head. “These past days have been really difficult for me. The Music Academy was my dream and to see that go up in flames, I don’t know, I felt like I couldn’t go on. But I realized that just because that one dream didn’t turn out as planned, I shouldn’t give up. I’m not saying I’m going to beg for another audition, because I am not. I considered it a sign that maybe that school isn’t for me,” the three boys are listening to me intently. “So, I though this morning, if I don’t have the Music Academy and I don’t have the band, I might as well just go to a parents-approved college.” Charlie glances at the rest of the band. “I mean, you do still have the band though?” Owen chimes in with a shy smile. “We can’t be Emily and The Foxes without Emily.” “Yeah, we’d just be The Foxes,” Jeremy adds with a light-hearted chuckle. I shake my head at him, a smile tugging at my lips. “I missed you guys,” I say. Charlie kneels down in front of me now. “So, what do you say, Emily? Will you join the band again?” he asks, which makes it look like he’s proposing to me. “Please?” He looks up at me with those puppy-dog eyes that I just cannot resist. Even Owen and Jeremy stare at me with hopeful eyes. “Hey, Jere,” I turn to the bassist, “I think there’s a jam you can play now.” He looks confused, but Charlie gets it and starts playing the chords to This Band is Back. “Come on, Jeremy!” Charlie counts us in, and Jeremy starts singing, placing his bass back in its stand to move freely while Owen moves away from the drums, tapping his body again. “Can you, can you hear me?” “Yep! Loud and clear!” I shout happily, jumping up from the stool. “Gotta get, gotta get ready” “'Cause it's been weeks!” I smile at Charlie’s lyric change. “Oh, this band is back,” Jeremy sings alone, grabbing my hand and twirling me around. “Oh, this band is back,” Owen, Charlie and I harmonize. We dance around the grand piano together, singing along loudly. “Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh This band is back!” Jeremy then grabs me by the waist and puts me on top of the piano, then jumping on himself. We all burst into a fit of laughter, and when we die down, I find Charlie staring at me with an endeared smile on his face. He tugs at the guitar strap, so his guitar is on his back instead. Jeremy and Owen take this as their cue to leave after both having kissed my cheeks. “So, now that the band is back… What about us?” he asks carefully. I take a deep breath. I haven’t given that a thought yet. “I don’t know, Charlie…” he looks like a hurt puppy. “I love you, but I just want to focus on the band and figuring out what I want to do with my life…” I bite the inside of my lip awaiting his response. It makes me wonder if he can hear my heartbeat. “That’s fair,” he says with a half-hearted smile, “Let’s focus on the band and become better friends instead.” His face lights up when my mouth curls upwards. “I’d like that,” I say, and hop off the piano to embrace him. “And, thanks for that song, by the way. It’s so beautiful! Definite Emily And The Foxes vibes,” I wiggle my eyebrows before walking up to Owen and Jeremy and hugging each of them. “I missed you so much!” Jeremy grunts into my ear as he picks me up from the floor. “I missed you guys too.” So much.

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years

Note

Oops sorry!! I just assumed with oknutzy! Maybe 17 for Wolfstar 🥰

No worries, anon! Since your request was already written by @mooncat457writing (read it, it’s sooo good) and no other prompt of the list was simliar, I thought of a new one and wrote something for you. I hope you ike it!

"The door fell shut behind me while getting the mail. Now I'm stuck outside on a windy October day"

The bright side of locking yourself out

It was 1 pm when the insistent ringing of the doorbell jerked Sirius out of his dreams. He grumbled for a few moments before his brain caught up and reminded him that he'd ordered a replacement for the broken gear-belt of his motorcycle. And Sirius really needed to get the bike repaired 'cause taking the tube to and from work was just the worst. So, he jumped out of bed and raced to the door of the building – there's no way he's missing the mailperson! Tough luck, Sirius was just in time to see the backlights of the delivery-truck disappear behind a corner.

"God, damnit!" He cursed loudly, mentally just warming up for a full-on rant when a particularly forceful wind-gust shoved half a ton of leaves in Sirius' face and caused an unfortunate bang behind his back.

No. Please no. Slowly, as if keeping off looking might undo what the dreadful noise promised, Sirius turned around, finally staring at the firmly closed door. It is just now that he realised that he's not only stuck outside on a rather unpleasant mid-October day, no, he's stuck outside barefoot, only wearing his pyjama bottoms and a worn shirt. No phone, no keys. It began to rain, no umbrella. What. A. Day.

Just two months ago, Sirius still lived with James and that wouldn't have been much of a problem. Back in the day, James was still writing his final assignment for his degree and stayed at home all the time.But since he graduated, found himself a paying job and moved in with Lily, Sirius lives alone for the very first time in his 25 years on this planet. And while he loved Lily dearly, Sirius couldn't always stop himself from feeling a bit abandoned and lonely, which was ridiculous, of course. Since they got together, James and Lily never let any doubt creep in that Sirius was anything but loved and treasured by both of them.

But the sentiment was of no use just then. In that moment, he needed to find a pragmatic solution. What does one do, trapped outside with no phone, no keys and no shoes? Sirius sighed in resignation. One does walk to the next cafe, beg them to use their phone without coming off as a complete nutter and call James to rescue him.

About five steps from the door, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, quest forgotten. Walking right up to him was his neighbour from upstairs, the most intriguing person Sirius has ever met, or almost met, seen that they had never talked before.

The guy seemed very unassuming the few times he saw him in the stairway with his knit sweaters and washed out jeans. He was very quiet in the mornings as if he unknowingly considered that Sirius, as a bartender, worked during the nights and really needed his mornings to sleep. During the afternoon however, enjoyable music wafted down through Sirius' open windows together with the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

The neighbour -Lupin, it said on the mailbox- stared at Sirius with wide eyes for a moment before he stepped closer, holding his umbrella over both of them.

"Erm." The other man said instead of greeting him.

"Please don't ask." Sirius implored him, completely done with this day already. But then again, Lupin had a nice voice.

"Right", Lupin laughed, "You live in the basement, right? Black? I'm going to ask anyway... aren't you cold?"

Not what Sirius expected to be asked. Naturally, his response was eloquent, he was absolutely not caught off guard, "Uhh -yeah, I live here. And- and I'm cold... but I thought you were-"

"-going to ask why you are out here?" Lupin laughed again, a really nice sound, "You clearly locked yourself out. No one goes around in the rain in October like this. Want to come in to mine? Dry off and call someone?"

With that he looked pointedly at Sirius, who took the glance as a clue to have a look at himself. So, summed up, he was drenched, with dirty feet and unkempt hair. Not the first impression he wanted to make on his neighbour. He's a proper adult now. Anyhow, this was by far his best option "That would actually safe my day."

Without another word, Sirius was led upstairs, offered a warm shower and some soft clothes, which were a bit too big for him (Lupin was at least half a head taller than himself). Clean and dry, Sirius sits in Lupin's little kitchen for his next task: calling James, who couldn't leave work for another three hours, meant that Sirius either waited for another four hours or paid 600 pounds for key-service to open his door, which he found out in the next call. He got a string of curses off his chest and was met with an astounded look of Lupin, who had poked his head though the door. Today, Sirius was impressively good at presenting himself at his worst.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not looking at his generous neighbour.

"Nah it's fine." Said one just shrugged, "What did your friend say?"

"Another four hours or 600 pounds." Sirius supplied, feeling a little miserable.

"Oh, unfortunate. Do you want to wait here? I have some work to do but you can hang out if you want."

"No, thank you. That would be too much" It really would.

"No. Really, it's no bother. I wouldn't offer if it wasn't alright." Lupin waved him off, "I'm Remus, by the way. And before you ask: Yes, Remus like in the Roman mythology"

"Nice to officially meet you, Remus, like in the Roman mythology." Sirius bowed mockingly, "I'm Sirius, and before you ask, yes, like the star and yes, I've probably heard all of the serious-jokes in existence by now."

With introductions out of the way, Sirius was sat on the big and comfortable couch in the living room with a nice cup of milky tea. He had no idea what to do now and felt a bit awkward, but his neighbour seemed unbothered by his surprise-guest.

"Sorry to be such a bad host but I have a bit work to do, I didn't get to do last night. If you like, feel free to take whatever book sparks your interest from the shelves." Remus apologised and put on some quiet music over his phone while settling in a cosy armchair across the couch with a stack of papers on his lap. It was only then, that Sirius realised how good-looking Remus was. His hair, light brown, wavy and a bit shaggy was falling slightly into his bright hazel eyes, focused on the papers in front of him. Suddenly, Remus huffed, scrunched up his slightly crooked nose (dusted with freckles that spread over his cheekbones) and lifted his left hand to his thin-lipped mouth to gnaw at his thumbnail.

"Displeasing literature?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could check the question in his mind for stupidity.

"You have no idea." the other man grumbled, "That one actually wrote that the inhabitants of Egypt are the mummies!"

Sirius couldn't help but bark a laugh at the affronted tone of Remus' voice,

"So, you're teaching history?"

"Yeah." Remus sighed and plucked a red pen from the little table beside him and began vigorously scribbling onto the paper.

The conversation felt to be over for now as Sirius' host seemed, indeed, quite busy. So, Sirius took up the offer to have a look at the bookshelves lining three walls of the room. The carped felt warm and soft under his bare feet while he strolled along the shelves. Quickly he recognised several of his favourites among the countless books and when his eye caught on The Little Prince, he couldn't resist to take it with him back to the couch.

When he was settled again, Remus looked up to see what Sirius had picked and smiled around a soft hum "I've read so many books and this is still one of my favourites."

Sirius couldn't help but smile back. "Mine, too."

From then on, they sat in a far more comfortable silence than before, both engulfed in their literature. Now and then, Remus huffed or snorted and shared some of the more entertaining mishaps of his students. It felt like they've been spending their afternoons together like this for years. Sirius was simultaneously at peace and properly creeped out.

After a while. Remus got up and returned with a fresh cup of tea for both of them. Steeped for exactly long enough, with the perfect amount of milk in it.

"It's wild that I've been living here for a little over two months and we barely even saw each other, isn't it?" Sirius commented, cradling his new cup in his hands while Remus got once again comfortable in his armchair.

"No, not really." The other man supplied with a slightly sad smile, "See, I teach evening classes from around 7 pm to midnight, get home around 1 am and because I'm an absolute night owl, I usually do my grading and preparations right after until 4 or 5 and then sleep 'till noon. And while I thrive in my rhythm, it's a bit hard to meet, or just come across, people... or get to go out for breakfast. It's silly but I love breakfast and until I get up, most places have switched to the lunch-menu already."

What are the chances. "And here I thought that you were so quiet in the mornings because you are psychic and just know that I sleep during that time." Sirius couldn't help the chuckle bubbling up his throat at the puzzled expression of the man across him. "I'm a bartender and work from 8 to 3 in the morning during the week and until 5 on Fridays and Saturdays." He elaborated, "after that I'm often too riled up to go directly to sleep, so I often go to bed around 6 and sleep until 1."

Remus just stared at him. "Our schedules are nearly identical."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply when the sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Remus got up to open the door to a hurried James, who handed Sirius the spare-keys, kissed his cheek and stormed off again.

"So, this was James. Is he your boyfriend, then?" The cosy atmosphere dissolved with the appearance of a wary look on Remus' face.

"Nah. He is my best friend, practically brother. I know, kissing is rather uncommon between two male friends, but we've been doing that since we met fourteen years ago, and I don't give a shit about convention." Sirius explained with a fond smile on his face.

After that, they parted rather quickly as both men needed to get ready for work, but a lot still lingered in the air, unsaid. His shift went over much too slow for Sirius while he brooded over the change in the atmosphere at the end of his stay with his neighbour.

The next day, Sirius woke up with a plan. A potentially humiliating plan, but worth the risk. He got up much quicker than usual, fired up the oven and began preparing. Around 12:30 Sirius knocked at his neighbour's door and was met with a sleepy Remus in pyjamas.

"Hey- erm... good morning! Here are your clothes!" Sirius began far too loud. All he achieved was a furrowed brow on the other man's face.

Get a grip, Black! "Uhh...OK. Listen, I really like you. Would you like to have a breakfast-date with me?" He tried to put on a winning smile while lifting the tray in his hands a bit.

Remus, who had blushed furiously during Sirius' rambling, blinked at him once before a wide grin spread on his face and he stepped aside to let Sirius and the warm croissants in.

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

Photo

Electra, grown, with her selkie furs.

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 3 - Electra’s coat 3/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

Fey are made by The Beast Kings, and thus magic itself. They know no time, feel no hate, take no side, and cannot form judgement. They are unable to age, and are stuck in an immature state. But that’s their charm. Fey are both very human, but distinctly not. Neither animal, nor person. Their humanness is why people love them, and requite fey affection on occasion. This is the only way a fey can have parents; Instead of being formed by magic itself, fey can breed if they know true love. The child will always be the same fey as it’s fey parent, but will also always be raised like a human.

Saturn Firepot and his selkie wife, Iearda were expecting a baby. She did not comprehend the array of emotional human responses, or even notice she was with child. But Saturn of coarse, was excitemed. The cabin freshly finished, and in the fire of love, his life felt like it couldn’t get any better. He had graduated with his specialist degree, and had begun his own research. Saturn felt like he was in his prime. In fact, his glasses were a little too rosy. Due seeing fey as human, Saturn forgot his one and only was a fish fey; And thus if the baby was a girl, she too would be a selkie. A daughter would need to be fully submerged to turn into a seal, in order to survive. A son would just be a regular human boy. Nowhere in the other ten lands, was not knowing the gender of your baby, been so stressful. Worse yet, the home birthing culture was intense, due to the commonality of men marrying and reproducing with sea wives. Selkies were known to bite in such stressful times, and partially still had their seal teeth. A blood wound was nothing, compared to the fact Saturn was too ashamed of his predicament to do it all properly. He bought a tub to fill with sea water at their beach, and relied on the fact that fey don’t get birth complications; Because their made of magic, not biology.

Once the drama was over, and Firepot’s sea wife sat by the tide; Recovering without a clue what just happened. Meanwhile, Saturn bathed his daughter in the tub. Only Northland Sea water was good enough for his child. The adorable ross seal pup, starred up at him, barely able to swim. The baby just turned into a seal upon touching the water. While Saturn was distracted, someone entered the beach house. As grey mist suddenly settled, it felt like it was going to rain. Saturn took the pup out of the water to cradle her, as unease set in. When he looked at his new daughter, she was now a baby swaddled in a little white fur coat.

“She needs a name. Don’t worry, I’m used to it.” An ethereal woman’s voice chimed. Saturn looked up to see a large woman of his people, with long wavy ginger hair, eyes of the sea, and a large spiked crown; the Fish King, in all her beauty. Men however, become entranced upon seeing her land form, and Saturn was reduced into a catatonic state while the Fish King named the girl.

“Her name is Electrid. As her father, you get to know that. It’s ok if I tell you. I trust as a seer, you know the importance of a fey’s name.” The Fish King said, leaving through the glass sliding doors. The thin curtains blew, as a light salty breeze waved in. When Saturn came out of his trance, his daughter was crying, and the beach was empty. His selkie love had gone back to the sea. Saturn was left clutching his fey daughter, completely alone. He began rocking and sobbing with her, on his knees on the cabin floor. He had no local family, or friends. It was just him in a cabin, by a magic ocean, on an abandoned beach, looking into the infinite misty ocean. Heartbroken.

Saturn was destroyed that his one true love would put on her skin, and leave. She seemed so content the year and a half. It made Saturn feel secure. He wasn’t forcing her to stay however. Ierna’s coat always hung on the hat stand, by the porch. Fey often have no logical reason for their actions. As a seer of fey, he knew this. It is possible, that she may forget about him with time. Ierna had been away from the sea for so long, perhaps she missed it and wanted an extended vacation. Either way, Saturn decided he would never have it happen again. He took off his daughter’s snowy Selkie coat, and stuffed it in a trunk at the foot of his bed. Then he the girl in human baby clothes.

Without her skin, she was a normal baby girl; Normal enough to convince the local hospital to give her a birth certificate, and his last name. Human bottles, human food, human clothes, human language, and human books. He went the extra mile, to make sure no one knew Electra was anything but a regular daughter. He told lie after lie, to affirm he was a single parent. Any time Electra gazed into the sea, or couldn’t relate to the other children, Saturn would say everyone is different, and distract her with affection. Anything to prevent the most precious thing to him, form returning to the ocean forever. It had been years, and Ierna was still gone. Saturn had now become the cooky village wizard, living alone on a beach.

It is fair to say, that Saturn was so good at hiding Electra’s feyness, that everyone was fooled, including her. His apt knowledge of fey behaviour, from his job, meant he knew how to raise and teach her to be more like a person. The teeth were a little hard to explain sometimes; As mentioned, selkies have slightly seal like teeth, even in human form. All things considered, fey or not, both father and daughter got joy and fulfillment with only each other to love. Exclusive cuddle rights, fish pie, and Welsh cakes. Listening to radio shows, while playing on the beach with the other fey. Saturn had told all of them long ago, not to tell Electra or any other human, that she was a selkie. They loved him so much by then, they obliged without question. Each dragon, fairy, and fish, did not understand why a human would desire such a simple favour, but it was no problem as they have little to say to most common men.

Saturn became so lost in raising Electra, and keeping up the lie, that he forgot she would grow up. Without understanding human emotions. Electra often made assumptions about life stages, and appropriate social etiquette. Electra, shortly after graduating secondary school, came home with a young lad one afternoon. She had just gone out for cabbage, but also decided to pick up a boy she thought was cute as well.

“Daddy! Can he join us for dinner? I offered to show him our beach house and quiet bay. He said yes! He is so charming, and he dyed his hair orchid to match his kilt. It looks gleaming in traditional knots; and brings out his grey eyes! Oh, and he makes me smile, as everything he says is so sweet!” Electra ranted, starring at the man, like she was consumed by his essence. The boy seemed a bit rattled, and Saturn, as an overprotective father, was livid.

“Excuse me; Who are you? What are you doing with my daughter?” he said firmly.

“I’m Jasper of house Nix. She... She’s the local girl who wears the flowy dresses, and stares at me often; Oh, and she brings me daisies.” He responded. “I approached her, to ask why she was acting all odd; Then she asked if I wanted to go to the beach, and I said yes! She is by far, the most adorable maiden in town, and she looks just like you, I do say! Down to the grey eyes and ginger hair, she does! You must be her father?”

“Aye…” Saturn said. It was worse than he thought. Electra had become infatuated with an idiot. As the village of Isfisceard was used to magic, and mundane ladies of beauty swooning, it could blur together. The lad had no clue, Electra was a selkie. He assumed she was just charismatic and flirty.

“You built this beach house? It’s homey. I love the yellow and white cabin aesthetic, on the amber wood. This place smells of the ocean and my favourite black tea. Oh, and just look at the enchanting view!” Jasper said, looking into the sea. For once, Electra wasn’t looking into the ocean; She was looking at Jasper. Saturn shrugged, and offered him a beach-side picnic. He was indeed a very sweet boy. Jasper helped clean up, danced with Electra, spouted nothing but positivity, and may have been too stupid to know malice. He reminded Saturn of himself. It made him continue the lie, and preserve their innocent love. He could tell by the look on Electra’s face, she was more then just fond of him. Electra wouldn’t love again in his lifetime; Fey can’t become infatuated again, until their previous obsession dies, or they succumb to grief with the passing of the one who loved them back. This made Saturn invested in the pair. He wanted his little girl to be happy, and see their happily ever after, as his was so brief.

After almost a year of regular dating, Jasper requited her love, and moved into the beach house. They all shared black coffee, that mixed with the salty temperate breeze. They listened to the hum of the storms, gulls, and the sea shell wind chimes. Jasper and Saturn would sing together, for the sea fey, making Electra’s day. For all sea daughters love song. Everything seemed perfect again. Then Saturn got a job offer, in The Grand West. As a fey expert, and professor at an academy; He was being promoted. Assured his cabin, beach, and darling daughter was safe with Jasper, he accepted the offer. Like the call of a second chance, he was eager to take. Saturn took Electra’s coat with him, and continued to tell everyone his beautiful little girl, with a sort of inhuman beauty, was one hundred percent human. Anything to keep her happy, safe, and on land. Anything to make sure that when he returned, his baby girl would be there.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #fantasy #selkie #story 31 #firepot #electra #short stories

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Winter Night - Malcolm Bench x Reader (Vertical Limit)

Holiday Fic 2! ⛄⛄

@wltz-bby @happyskywhale

Author’s Note: @mandy23b I know you still have to get to the end of this week to finish your finals. But Congratulations on your graduation! 🎉

I’m so proud of you - And I know I keep telling you that, but I’m just going to keep telling you!

Thank you for requesting - here’s some Malcolm for you, as a treat 😉😘

Disclaimer: Vertical Limit Not Mine / Basically a massive excuse to have 4000 words of banter / you better believe I got Tom McLaren in here / gifs and lyrics not mine

Premise: Malcolm Bench is back from K2 for winter break. You love snow, having to work in it 24/7 he does not - today you’re determined to change his mind...

Words: 4133

Warnings: swearing / sexual connotations

____

Have you seen the mistletoe? It fills the night with kisses Have you seen the bright new star? It fills your heart with wishes Have you seen the candlelight? It shines from every window Have you seen the moon above? It lights the sky in silver

Have you heard the boys all sigh When all the girls are skating? Have you heard the sweetheart's cry For all this time they're waiting?

Green is in the mistletoe And red is in the holly Silver in the stars above That shine on everybody Gold is in the candlelight and Crimson in the embers White is in the winter night That everyone remembers

Have you seen the children playing? Tiny hands are frozen! Have you seen them hurry home When suddenly it's snowing!

---

Waiting for Malcolm to return home from K2 was always painful, especially at this time of year. People liked their winter climbing getaways - but he liked to come home when it was a little too dangerous out on the mountains. He also wanted to take breaks to be with you: although wintertime was not always his favourite period to do so… because he saw snow 24/7 at work. He didn’t need to see it at home with you too. There was always the fear that it would be too dangerous for him to come back, and it wasn’t just the weather patterns there that mattered, but where you lived too. There had been plenty of times when his flights had been delayed, or he’d had to spend time in the airport overnight, because no planes were going to move under any circumstances. Luckily yesterday the plane home had at least taken off, and although the weather reports were all threatening snow storms here & the air was cold, the sky had been clear all day and not a flake had fallen yet. You prayed it would stay that way at least until you got him inside the house. But then you liked the look of the blanket of white across your front yard and the roads. Especially when it was freshly fallen and no-one had walked or driven through it yet. How it looked so crisp and sparkled in the sunshine; it always felt like you were a child again, when you used to play out in it for hours without a care in the world. Nowadays the cold got to you a little quicker, but that didn’t make it any less magical to you. As you drove to the airport, the weather again was interrupting your favourite tunes to warn of a particularly bad storm front coming. You didn’t think you’d greet Malcolm with this information - he’d probably grumble and turn right around to get on the flight back.

You received a text that he’d landed before you’d even reached the arrivals waiting area, which meant you wouldn’t be standing around too long for him. Bonus! But as you leant against the barrier you couldn’t help but watch everyone with their brightly coloured signs - awaiting the arrival of family and partners. You thought back to the day previous; all the girlfriends of everyone up on K2 had their own texting group and you all found it fairly cathartic to fret together (luckily that was seldom necessary) or share K2 news, or climbing photographs (at least one of you was up there every so often), or whatever you felt like really. And Tom McLaren’s girlfriend had texted you yesterday to let you know her man was back home, with a little note ‘And yours tomorrow! x’. If Tom was home then it really must have been end of season. They were due to get married soon - and their engagement often had you poking fun at Malcolm and subtly dropping hints as to when and where he was going to pop the question. Only for him to narrow his eyes at you and scoff and say “Well, I won’t be doing it like Tom fucking McLaren, that’s for sure!” You could only laugh. You had to agree though, the picture-perfect life of the Colorado Kid was not for either of you. Seeing Malcolm again always made you nervous, and you tapped your foot to a silent beat, taking controlled breaths - you supposed it was the effect of him being so far away for so long. Almost like figuring someone out all over again - as much as it was like no time had passed at all; always so giddy, like it was the first time you realised you had a crush on him. You received relentless teasing about that - probably because the Bench brothers were the two biggest idiots on K2. BUT they both had an insane amount of climbing knowledge, it made for an interesting combination; and you were definitely dating the sweeter of the two. You stood straight, on high alert, as the arrivals doors opened and Malcolm walked through, backpack slung over his shoulder. You were just going to give him a casual wave and let him walk over but his eyes scanned the crowd, looking fairly tired from his long-haul flight - and as soon as they locked on you, he lit up completely. And that cheeky little smile of his had you running - Malcolm stopped, bracing himself for your hug. “Ooof-! Geez, Y/N! Okay I get it! You’d think I’d be away for MONTHS!!!” He laughed so loud people started turning towards you but you didn’t care, you’d missed this goof like heck. And damn, that Australian accent. “Just let me miss you for 5 seconds dammit!” You pulled back with a smile, “Okay flight?” “As good as can be expected.” He checked his watch, “Annnnd that’s your five seconds, so I suppose within the hour you’ll be wanting to get me on the first plane back!” Your face burned; that was a joke one time and he’d never let you get away with it. “Weather permitting.” You placed a hand over your mouth, misremembering that you weren’t supposed to be saying anything about the snow. “Oh.” His face fell, “I knew it was all a little too good to be true.”

“Well, I suppose I should get you home before you grumble anymore…” He gasped, “You mean all that way and I don’t even get a kiss-!?” “Malcolm!” Okay, you took it back, his voice just had to be that loud, “I was getting to it!” You still had your arms around him and pulled yourself back to his lips. It was gentle and sweet and he wound his arms around you too, running a hand through your hair. Although when you pulled back you were a little shy, looking into his big brown eyes, “...Welcome home.” “Glad to be back!” He grinned, stepping out of your arms to take your hand in his, “Ah, civilisation!” You noticed the Colorado accent he put on and snorted, “Is that what you think he says when he gets home!?” “What, Mr. Fucking Perfect? Prince Charming of K2, Tom McLaren? Oh yeah.” “Well,” You shook your head and kissed him again, “I much prefer my little Australian hot mess.” There was a small smirk on his face, “Oh, you think I’m hot? I knew it!” “For sure! You can melt the snow all on your own-!” You winked, knowing he’d love that tease. “Ah, Fuckin’ have it-!” *** He was out of the car and bounding up to the front door before you’d even switched the engine off; you could do nothing but chuckle and roll your eyes. “So eager to be stuck in a house?” “Well,” Malcolm looked up at the outside for a minute, hopping from foot to foot and craning his neck, “it’s stuck in a house with you, ain’t it?!” He turned with a grin as you unlocked the front door, “I mean there’s plenty you can do stuck in a house…!” You gave him a sideways glance, “Give it a couple of days you’ll be screaming and wishing that you’re back in the great outdoors on top of a mountain.” “NOOOO-! Give it at least a week! I get to sleep in a proper bed!” “Mal, every time you come home you spend at least the first few days sleeping on the floor because you can’t get used to sleeping in a bed-!” “A’right, just pin me there-!” You blinked at him a few times as he leapt into the house, “I mean don’t tempt me, but I’m gonna need to tape your mouth shut too.” “Kinky, but I’d do it for you…!” He winked before hurtling towards the stairs and taking them in twos. You sighed, head in your hands. Why did you miss this? Maybe you’d be the one wishing he was back on a mountain… You glanced up at the ceiling - he also hadn’t noticed all the winter decor yet. But you supposed you’d give him time. You always liked theming your house for the season - not just the holiday within the season - and you always liked sending Malcolm aesthetic pictures, where he would graciously (if he was homesick) tell you that he wished he was there, and how pretty they were. Or sometimes just ask ‘what the heck is that!?’ and you’d have to put your phone down for five minutes whilst trying not to give up and throw it all away in a huff. When Malcolm trudged down the stairs slowly you noticed him looking around, although you broke the silence, “Did your brother get back okay too?” You knew Cyril was heading back to their hometown for the break. “Uh, he’s probably still in the air somewhere!” Malcolm leant around the banister, “I’m glad there’s no fake snow.” “Why have fake when you can have the real thing?” “Please no.” “Mal, I already told you the weather forecast says it’s on the way.” He pressed his lips together in his best attempt not to grimace; “Why can’t it be tropical when I get home?” “Babe, it’s wintertime, if you want a tropical vista you shoulda said and I’d have booked a vacation-!” Or he could have asked you to meet him in his native Australia, you knew it was summer there. He froze suddenly - so you knew he wasn’t listening - and when his face lit up you knew he’d spotted it; hurling himself over the banister Malcolm dropped to the floor none too gracefully - leaving you with your head in your hands one again. “My house isn’t a mountain face.” “Duly noted…” He pointed to the ceiling, “That’s mistletoe!” Yes! And mostly because he was coming home. “There’s mistletoe in here!? Come make out with me----!” You laughed as he joyfully whined the last word, and you were only too happy to walk forward into his arms, “Promise no more griping about snow?” “I’ll make no such promise.” You huffed. “Can’t blame me for trying…” He wound his arms around you and pulled you into a short sweet kiss. You were already giggling a little as you looped your hands around his neck, running them through his hair. You supposed it was just because you were giddy about him being home - getting to hold him this close again. With Malcolm’s body pressed up against yours, you were surprised his hands were staying so respectful; but there was time yet! The kiss was slow and soft, his tongue running your bottom lip gently, almost cautious about it. If you weren’t so caught up in it you would for sure have teased him about whether or not he’d forgotten how to kiss. This was your first ‘real’ intimate moment with him for months and months, and you were right, it was about getting to know each other again; even with the familiarity of this feeling. Like a jigsaw piece being put into place once more. You knew you fit right with him, you were happy to be back where you belonged. *** Inevitably his hands didn’t stay put, and you ended up laying back on your couch, his hands roaming over your body. You knew that it would be a few days before you actually slept together: you weren’t joking about him sleeping on the floor. If Malcolm slept in bed he was restless, and there was too much to get used to. Room temperature, mattress, sheets and you… sharing a bed with someone else. There’d be a lot of suggestive remarks and a bunch of almosts, like this one. Or forgetting himself for a moment over morning coffee, where he’d push you up against the kitchen counter - but you had to let Malcolm ground himself back on… well, the ground - a normal altitude - before he’d really be up for anything like that. Still, you weren’t about to lie - you kinda wanted to take that shirt off him when his hands were cupping your ass or grazing your bare skin where your own shirt had ridden up. You’d missed him a lot, and besides having him back, you had none of that other ‘normal’ stuff to get used to. You knew you had to be patient; but steamy making out on the couch was a good substitute, for sure. As you’d been doing this, the weather outside had been steadily changing; and you’d noticed the light changes in the room, but both of you had been far too absorbed in other things. However, when you paused for breath for just a second, both panting - clearly just not able to get enough of each other after months of waiting to kiss again (especially when the lingering memory of the last one was always the kiss goodbye, and hurt like hell) - you looked up to the window and immediately gasped. Flakes of snow were already falling; although not so thick yet, you could already see it settling over the grass and sidewalks… and on the road. You leapt off him, excitement rushing through you as you ran to the window. Immediately full-on child-like wonder. Malcolm stared at the snow for a minute and grimaced, hadn’t he just left enough of this? Why did it have to follow him here!? “What!? You’re kidding right!? You could be making out with me!” “Mal! Malcolm!!! Oh my gosh look-! LOOK! It’s settling!!” Snow had never lost its charm with you. It made you think of too many good memories: staying out in it and playing with your friends and family until your face was red and fingers and toes freezing, long romantic walks you had taken with past lovers, and ice-skating, you’d had skiing trips too, and some of your best snow memories truly were half way up a mountain with the Bench Brothers. But snow meant so much more: cuddling up under blankets with hot drinks and watching trashy movies - or good ones - both with family and the person you loved the most. And you loved those quieter moments with Malcolm too, even though he was so high energy. Those moments where there was nowhere to go, and nowhere to be but than with each other. You were grinning to yourself as you sprinted out of the room and up the stairs. Malcolm sighed to himself: “Oh my god- Y/N! What are you doing!?!” “Getting dressed!” You yelled back, rushing around to pull on a good coat, hat, scarf, boots and gloves. (Only because you knew Malcolm was about to lecture you on safety precautions, even when he sometimes sat out there on K2 in literally nothing.) As you finished getting ready and approached the window again the flurry was crazy - and you could barely see out of it for flakes of snow, building up nicely on the ground. That only made you even more excited, Malcolm looked from the snow to you and back. “Now before you go crazy, just remember, it may look nice but it’s a death trap!” “Malcolm. I’m not 10,000 feet up a mountain in thin air with no oxygen, will you stop lecturing me!?!” “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen! There is nothing good about that white stuff-! Even if you think it looks pretty!” That gave you pause for thought for a second - though truly only a second - had he seen bodies out there on his expeditions? Had he seen people die out there…? You shook that thought clear of your mind, now wasn’t the time to think on things like that. “- Then there’s frostbite! Hypothermia-! Heck, even a common cold is a bad thing; I don’t want you to get sick!” You reached for the door and he wedged himself between you and it, “What about when it pelts you in the face, huh!? Cold and painful! What about when your skin gets all dried and cracked and you start bleeding-!?” “Malcolm. Will you please shut up! I’m not listening…!” You yanked the door open, moving him, “You don’t have to come out, but you’re not spoiling it for me!!” By the time you had run to the end of your drive the cold air was already filling your lungs and you couldn’t help but laugh, tipping your head back to catch the snowflakes on your tongue. The neighbourhood kids were all outside now, parents on close watch, also shrieking and laughing and enjoying the first - but certainly not the last - heavy snowfall of the year. You didn’t know what Malcolm was getting at - couldn’t he just see the good side of snow, for once? You were a far cry away from what he was used to; out here everything was safe. You had a nice warm house to return to, what was his problem? Malcolm stood in the doorway, shaking his head at you and still grumbling to himself about the falling snow, before he closed it to keep the cold out and returned to the window to watch you. But as you stayed outside, admiring the scenery and greeting your neighbours, and passers-by - some of whom were asking how Malcolm was, considering they’d seen him come home (and of course you’d been talking about this day for the entire week) - you started walking up and down, and talking and laughing. Some of the kids were even throwing snowballs at you and you had no trouble joining in once or twice. That laugh was so infectious to watch, the way you lit up like that, the unbridled joy of being able to once again be stuck in a pretty winter scene and reminisce, the cold heightening the red in your cheeks. Malcolm found himself smiling and knew he was immediately done for. “Aw. Shit.” He laughed to himself, “Dammit… she’s gone and done it now…” Trudging outside and pretending that he wasn’t just so happy to see you happy, Malcolm put on his best grumpy face. You ran to him, but couldn’t help laughing at the fact he was dressed like he was about to attempt a summit climb. “Sooo it’s not all that bad huh!?” His eyes narrowed, “You’re kiddin’, I’m worried about you! Helloooo, bad things happen in the cold, weren’t you listening!?” “No. Not at all.” You gave him a teasing grin before trying to kiss that grumpy look off his face. It half worked, and Malcolm couldn’t help but grin before he tried to make himself look stoic again. You looped your arms through his as you walked slowly to the end of the drive and he also watched the kids rolling around in the snow and shrieking and having a good time. Growing up in Australia he didn’t have a lot to compare to this, but he could draw enough comparisons from other childhood memories to know what this must feel like for them. You nudged him; “See! The kids enjoy it, why can’t you!?” He pretended to grumble again, “Yeah, they’re kids. They’d hate it if they worked in it too!!” “I bet if you asked them, they’d love your job.” He laughed, “Great, they can have it and I’ll stay here with you-!” “Well, if you could be so persuaded…!” You leant into him and Malcolm turned to you with an eyebrow raised, ‘just jo-king.’ Although you caught that tiny smile lifting at the corners of his mouth as your joy bled into him. Malcolm could only admit, he was very happy to be out in the snow with you. The way the snow fell and settled on your coat, the tiny flakes in your eyelashes, and where it was melting and leaving sparkles on your skin. You were admiring the same on him; how it settled in his dark hair, and how the ones in his eyelashes were really bringing out that deep brown in his eyes, that were already getting accentuated against that white background. You looked back to the neighbourhood for a moment, glad that the cold could hide your blush. It was very cute; this winter scene just looked like one of those little painted postcards you’d often seen sold around this time of year.

You didn’t get to admire the cold for long and almost screeched in surprise as you were hit in the face with just a little bit of snow. The cold against your skin was shocking. You spluttered as you turned back to your boyfriend; “What was that for!?” Malcolm smirked, raising his eyebrow slightly, “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you liked snow!?” You shoved him, which only made him laugh. “Not when your boyfriend is throwing it in your face like that!” “Just admit I’m right!” You swayed backwards, arms folded, look on your face set hard: “To you?! About snow!? Never!” This scrabbling around in the snow continued for a few minutes, until you were both flushed and giggling. You wiped droplets of water from your face, still not ready to concede his point about snow. He knew you weren’t going to either, rubbing the ice from his own cheeks - he was still right about it hurting as it pelted your face, though. You couldn’t help but sigh wistfully as you turned back to him, voice barely above a murmur. “I’m so happy you’re home to see this. And the good things about snow.” Malcolm’s smile almost became a knowing smirk as he hesitated for just a second: “Yeah yeah, what do you really want?” With the snow falling around him like that and the little look on his face, now his cheeks were flushing too you couldn’t help but take the tiny step to kiss him once more. He was only too happy to reciprocate and you shuffled a little closer to his body warmth, already looking forward to getting cozy back in doors afterwards. Even if he’d probably give you some kind of ‘I told you so!’ lecture. Right now you got to kiss him in snowfall and it got to be romantic - no-one's brother yelling at you to get a room, or other idiots at camp wolf-whistling at you (or getting emotional at not having their other halves right there. Which Malcolm said he never did, but how were you to know. You bet he did, secretly.) You just got to kiss him and enjoy the moment, and the soft snowfall. Suddenly you realised that Malcolm had snaked his hands under your coat and your shirt and he didn’t have gloves, AND he’d just been throwing snow around. And you shrieked as his freezing fingers touched your warm skin. “MAL! NO!” But it was too late, he grabbed you, laughing, putting his cold hands on every bit of skin he could possibly reach. You were screaming at him, but also howling with laughter as you tried to wiggle from his grip. “OH GOD! STOP!” You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole neighbourhood was watching you now and shaking their heads, muttering ‘crazy kids’. “Only if you admit snow is bad-!” “Shut up, you are so enjoying this!”

He dropped you back to the floor, chuckling, before he cleared his throat and folded his arms. “A’right. I concede. Probably about as appreciative of snow now than I’ve been in years.” Your face lit up again and you opened your mouth, taking a deep breath for your loud ‘I KNEW IT’ but he held his hand up to stop you, “But only because you’re here.” You immediately deflated, and knew you couldn’t fight him saying something so sweet, instead you punched his arm, “You sap.” Malcolm’s face became unnaturally serious; “You best be careful, Y/N, my hands are still cold!” “NO!” You were screaming again as he grabbed you, but this time he simply lifted you up into his arms, “You drop me in the snow, Malcolm, I swear to god.” “Pretty sure you wouldn’t have a problem with that-!” He grinned; but you weren’t about to let him win twice. Instead you looped your arms around his neck once more touching your nose to his. “Ah-! Now you’re cold-!” But he reciprocated. “I best think about getting you in doors.” “Just shut up about how bad the snow is, and kiss me already!” “Aw, the snow isn’t that bad… really… If I get to share the infectious joy of it with you. And maybe get you warm every so often.” Malcolm grinned, with a cheeky wink, before once more obliging you with a sweet kiss. Oh, you were so glad to have him home.

---

Thank you for requesting!! Thank you so much for reading! 😘😘

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rokutouxei · 4 years

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the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 22 OF 22 [ END ]

But the world is strange and endings are not truly endings no matter how the stars might wish it so.

-"The Starless Sea", Erin Morgenstern

Like a reversal of fate, everything else goes according to plan afterwards: much to Theo’s delight.

After the expectedly but also overwhelmingly successful two-week long exhibit at the gallery, Vincent—after years of indecision—finalizes his documents and portfolio, submits a stack of photos and a long, written document detailing the exhibit to the graduation approval panel. The following month is the longest of the brothers’ lives, but the committee approves Vincent’s submission, and a few weeks later he’s finally marching down the aisle to claim his diploma. (It was a beautiful affair, Theo would always say about it, but in truth he was unable to see anything more than a few smudges of color, due to how hard he was crying. Thank god for photographs.)

Freshly-graduated Vincent takes on various jobs while submitting to various institutions both locally and abroad, and finally persuades Theo to finish his bachelor’s degree, promising that he’ll always be facing forward into the future. The following semester, Theo enrolls for a final time at the university, taking his last units to write up his thesis.

Theo doesn’t quit his job at the bookshop, but eventually as things get busier he can only take so many hours until he’s barely there at all. They get a new employee named William—Theo doesn’t really like him. Arthur gives a little show of crying when Theo reveals he can only work weekends now, treats him to dinner and some alcohol at the end of it, so maybe it isn’t that bad. Theo, of course, still forwards all his book requests to the bookstore, and, much to his disgust, continues to spend Saturdays or Sundays (or both, if he’s unlucky) as “quality time” with Arthur, as the latter has called it. It’s not much, but more than enough for his “begrudging” best friend.

As Theo is working on his thesis, Vincent finally receives an offer for apprenticeship at a rather renowned fine arts gallery a few hours away, and Theo feels all his dreams are coming true.

And it’s time to get a new one.

He’s finishing a degree, bracing himself to enter a field he’s always long wanted to be in, to help support his brother but also to begin the long journey of a little hope he’d long kept in his heart, the one he hadn’t ever dared to say, fearing he wasn’t good enough for it—of being the director of a museum.

He might even be able to take a master’s on the side, if he finds a company that’s willing to get him trained both on the company floor and in an institution—and his grades and a few recommendation letters will get him there, he’s damn sure.

And next to him, or well, miles away, his brother is getting steadier and steadier on his feet, near-sprint towards a future with art he’s always dreamt of as well, this time with no one putting him down. Theo’s going to make sure that stays the same for all the years to come, too.

It feels like the beginning of everything good, and Theo walks around the town with a smile on his face.

All that’s left to do is wait.

He has faith that everything will settle into their proper places, like they always have.

And they do, because just as she always does, it’s 2:00pm on a Sunday, and she comes, in a long, plain cream coat over a sweater, a short plaid skirt over dark leggings, high black boots, because it’s fall now, starting to become cold. She’s looking around her with stars in her eyes, like she hasn’t been here in a long time. And she hasn’t.

Theo spots her first, and then, like she feels the touch of his eyes on her skin, she turns to him. Her face brightens with a grin that makes Theo’s heart stop.

And then she runs with a speed unexpected for the shoes she’s wearing. Theo braces himself as she jumps into his arms, but they still topple towards the ground.

THUNK!

“Oh my god, I could have killed you!” she says, but every word is stuck in between fits of laughter. Curls of hair hang over the sides of her face as she pulls herself up on the palms of her hands and her knees. Guiltless, as she always is.

Theo crinkles his nose, raises a hand to brush off the curtain of hair. “You have an accent,” he says. It’s not derisive, not an insult, just an observation, the same way he’d say something about a work of art.

And, just because she doesn’t run out of ways to take his breath away, she laughs and presses a kiss on his lips, her mouth warm, his face suddenly hot. She smells like strawberries and sour things and home.

She pulls away and breathes against his trembling lips, “I missed you so much.”

“Talk’s for later,” he half-growls, pulling himself up into a seated position before taking her lips in his once more—his fingers in her hair, her hand on his shoulder, seated on his lap. The kiss doesn’t deepen like she expects it to: instead it’s just a series of small kisses exchanged between the two of them, passed back and forth to each other like a shared breath. His hand squeezes her waist and—

“GET A ROOM!” someone shouts from across the street, followed by a burst of laughter, random onlookers to a long-awaited reunion.

“God, I sure miss being home,” she chuckles, making light of the call-out, chewing on her lower lip in embarrassment, turning her eyes away from him.

The word home hangs heavy between the both; but a good kind of heavy.

But for now, he’s not having that, not when they’ve been waiting for this for the longest time; he reaches out to cup her cheek in his hand, only to feel the damp trail of a tear slipping down.

It’s his turn to snort, rubbing a thumb up underneath her eye. “Don’t cry, liefje.”

She pouts. “…‘I missed you too, baby,’” she says mockingly, but wipes the tears that fall out with the back of her hand anyway. The two of them stare at each other for a long moment, like confirming each other’s existence, like making sure the other is really there.

Then, she breaks the silence with a laugh, like she always does.

His heart feels more than just full. It’s always more than with her around.

“I kept all your letters,” she says softly.

“And I kept all your postcards.”

That makes her laugh. A sound he wishes he could listen to forever. “Ah, we sound like some kind of rom-com protagonists. So silly.”

“That’s not so bad though,” Theo says, taking her hand in his the way he’s always wanted to but has always been afraid to do.

“No,” she says, leaning against his warmth. Pressing their foreheads together. “Not at all.”

And because her friend’s been bugging her throughout her entire first year at the university while she was gone, said friend decides to get back at her by holding a little surprise party to match the little surprise arrival she had made for Theo. She, Theo, her friend, Dazai, Arthur, and a shifty-feeling Isaac—she will have to figure out the details for that later—end up having dinner together at a place that opened while she was gone, talking about all that she’d missed, stories that may as well have already been told but feel different when they’re told face-to-face.

They all go home flushed, half with drunk and half with joy. She hasn’t really checked into her apartment complex quite yet, but Theo shoots down her friend’s offer for her to be driven back to the city in exchange for getting her to sleep at his place. The van Gogh residence has been home to one for quite a bit now and Theo… well, he’d like some company.

The two of them are walking home side by side, swaying a little as they pass through flickering streetlights. There is so much to talk about, to catch up on, so many things hidden in between the lines of letters and messages that are better sorted out in person, and Theo feels each question rising up his throat clawing their way out.

Was coming back worth it?

Won’t you regret it?

Did you find what you were looking for out there?

But they have time—they have so much time now, so instead, he settles for the gentle quiet they’ve always known each other for. Instead, he bumps the back of her hand with his, and because everything is more than with her, she takes it as an opportunity to intertwine their fingers together.

There’s mischief in her voice.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Say ‘I love you.’”

Theo stops in his tracks. “What?”

The shock makes her laugh. Pulling at his hand to get him to start walking again, she explains, “You’ve never told me you loved me, you know.”

“I have.”

“Not in person!” she argues. “Not even in call. You wrote it, but that’s different.”

Theo can feel the words on his tongue already anyway, but he continues to prolong the inevitable. “What’s all this all of a sudden?”

“Nothing! I just haven’t heard it, and well, I wanted to hear it? Please?”

“No.”

“C’mon, you’re not fair. Tell me.”

“No,” he says, pulling her by her hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it. Chaste, and yet so deep with hunger it makes her knees wobble just a bit. “I’ll tell you later.”

She flushes a deep red.

After all this, their friends will not stop joking about how they’ve had one of the most intense courtships in the history of their friend group—and likely their university—but the two of them both rigorously deny that, saying that there are likely to be more complicated ones they just don’t know. Besides, at this point, it doesn’t really matter how long it had taken them to get here—

Just that they had gotten here.

And what a good story that journey was.

Just fit for a literature major.

But stories are stories because they flow into each other, and so even if that chapter has ended, that just means another one has begun and—there is so much plot to be done. She and Theo have a talk about their relationship—this time in person, and this time for real—somewhere in between their last semesters in university. Their friends are, well, still their friends, ever so patient even now that they’re together, especially after all that happened before they got to this. And the future is wide and the world is out there waiting and—

They can’t wait to see it together.

Like flower facing upward to the sun daring itself to see what the world has for it out there before deciding it wants to stay, deciding to grow its roots, deciding…

Right here is okay.

Like blossoming in reverse.

When she and Theo move in together to their own little apartment, away from the university, long after shared books at the rooftop of the physics department and Dragon’s Hoard and Little Owl, Vincent sends to them a moving-in gift: a series of three canvases, a triptych depicting the two of them at that most vulnerable part of their romance. The start of the most beautiful part of it. On the opposite panels, she and Theo; sitting in front of their respective windows, looking out at different cities, different times of the day. And in the middle, a humble little paper airplane made of envelopes, with their blue and red marking, the stamps, the smudged ink, crossing the landscape without care for distance.

They hang the paintings in their living room, above the sofa, the first thing they see when they enter their little shared home.

Just another one of many shared things that will continue to grow.

And today, they’re not yet done unpacking and they’ve only gotten out two sets of dinnerware just enough to be able to eat—but there is so much time. So it’s two in the afternoon on a Sunday, music playing lowly from cheap Bluetooth speakers, and their next-door neighbors are hammering something in the wall but it is still beautiful. Standing in the middle of the living room on the carpet, the TV and the books still in their neatly labeled boxes stacked against the wall—they hold each other close to the slow beat of the music.

Sure, they may have been idiots about this but—they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time

And so Theo presses his forehead against hers, smiling when the gesture makes her laugh. Nothing makes him feel as warm as she does, and no metaphor, no literary reference will be able to truly put into words how he feels about having found her at just the right moment.

How they crossed that near-miss.

And how lucky he is to get to keep her.

Arm wrapped reverently around the small of her back, one hand on her waist, the other with its fingers interlocked with hers—he presses a small kiss on her knuckles, eyes sliding shut. Everything goes dark: the music shushes into silence, the room collapses, the only thing is him, and her, and the long eternity.

“…And this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart,” he whispers, quoting a poem from a poet from a book from a bookstore from what seems like a million years ago, sighing when she squeezes his shoulder, “I carry your heart—”

Tilts his head upward with her finger, oh, she has him wrapped around her finger, always has.

He looks back at her and her heart dips into the deep blue of his eyes.

She kisses the words onto his lips, “I carry it in my heart.”

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thank you for reading this! longer A/N on ao3!!

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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callboxkat · 4 years

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Second Chances part 8: The Visit (2 of 2)

Author’s note: The second half is here! I hope you guys enjoy it! :)

Summary: Between some difficulty getting along with his coworkers and his quickly approaching visit with his parents, Roman has a lot on his mind. He can only hope that things will turn out well

Warnings: fear of being rejected, arguing, food mention, death mention, knife mention, injury mention, blood mention, Remus mention, accidental misgendering, some Spanish but not a lot

Word count: 7310

Second Chances Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

It was sunset by the time the bus pulled into its destination.

Roman stared out the window at the station as they approached, searching the small crowd for familiar faces. He wasn’t quite sure whether or not he wanted to find them.

As the bus came to a stop, Roman turned away from the window and slid Logan’s book back into the suitcase, zipped that shut, and picked it up. He waited for everyone ahead of him to file off of the bus, and then followed suit, clutching the flower pot to his chest.

His legs might have been shaking rather badly, but he did his best to ignore that fact.

His shoes hit the asphalt, and a cool wind ruffled his hair. He breathed in deeply and stepped up onto the curb, searching the crowd.

He thought he recognized a few people, people he’d perhaps gone to high school with or seen around town when he was younger; but it was entirely possible that he was simply feeling paranoid, like the earlier incident at the café.

He walked through the crowd, feeling very nervous and rather lost. As the seconds passed with no sign of his parents, he was beginning to think that maybe they had changed their minds, that maybe they had decided they didn’t want to see him after all, that maybe he’d made a mistake in thinking that he’d get to just see them again after lying to them and disappearing for so long.

And then he saw them.

They were about twenty feet away, watching what Roman realized was the wrong bus. Both of them had more gray hairs than Roman remembered, and his dad looked thinner, but it was them. It was really them. A rush of excitement went through his body… only to be instantly overwhelmed by fear.

Roman stared at them, suddenly unable to move.

Just then, Roman’s mamá turned, and she saw him.

There was no anger on her face, only joy as she gasped, running for him.

Roman let out a laugh that may or may not have strongly resembled a sob, and jogged towards his parents before he could overthink things any more.

“Dad! Mamá!”

People were quick to get out of the way, even if they griped about it; and then she was hugging him; and she smelled just like the same combination of cinnamon and perfume that she always did; and Roman was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, needing to say it again, to their faces. His mamá shushed him, kissed him on either cheek, then just held his head between her hands, searching his face. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“Mijo,” she whispered. “Mijo, mijo, estás aquí.”

“I’m here,” he assured her, his voice breaking.

“Maybe we should go to the car,” Roman’s dad said, standing to the side. “We’re making a scene.”

Roman’s mamá sniffled, nodding. “Yes, yes, of course—you are right.” She pulled back from the hug slightly. “Oh, you are so thin….”

She reluctantly released him, but kept one of Roman’s hands in a firm grip as they made their way out of the crowd and away from the bus station.

“Oh—um, I got this for you.”

His mamá paused, apparently only then noticing the small, flowering plant that Roman had barely managed not to drop or allow to get squashed during their hug.

“For me?” she repeated.

Roman nodded.

“Thank you, mijo. Las flores son bonitas.”

“They’re forget-me-nots.”

“Oh, I would never forget you.”

Roman smiled, ducking his head slightly. “And Dad, I….” He fished a small box out of his pocket and handed it over. “This is for you.”

“I’ll open it in the car,” his dad promised, giving him a side-hug. They started walking again.

“We drove here together,” his mamá said. “We both wanted to ride back with you.”

Roman frowned, and he took only a few more steps before coming to a stop. “Why—why wouldn’t you have driven here together?”

His parents glanced at each other, and then back at him. His mamá reached up and rubbed his back.

“Roman,” his dad began, avoiding looking at either of them, “you have to understand, it’s been a long time since you left.”

Roman glanced between them. He realized he couldn’t feel the ring on his mamá’s finger where she gently rubbed his back. “Wait. No.” Please don’t let them say what I think they’re going to say.

His dad let out a long, weary sigh. “We got divorced two years ago.”

“We wanted to tell you in person, cariño,” his mamá added. “We decided it wasn’t a… phone conversation.”

Roman didn’t know what to say. Except, very softly… “Was it my fault?”

They glanced at each other again.

“No,” his mamá said. “No, Roman. It was… it was a lot of things.”

Roman wasn’t sure he quite believed her, but he just nodded and allowed himself to be led to the car. It was his mamá’s car, the same one he remembered. The tassel Roman had worn at his high school graduation no longer hung from the mirror. He forced himself not to read into that.

He got in the backseat, and they drove.

…

Being back in his home town was strange.

A lot had changed in the five years he’d been gone. Things looked older, there were new buildings where there had once been empty lots (or different buildings), and there were empty lots where other buildings had once been.

Most of it, though, looked just the same, which was somehow stranger than what had changed.

It took him a while to realize that the car wasn’t going the way he would have expected to get to his parents’ house. He didn’t mention it, though. The atmosphere in the car was rather awkward, and Roman was content to stare out the window rather than break the silence just yet. After their initial greetings, and the bombshell of breaking the news of the divorce to Roman, no one had seemed sure of what to say to each other.

There had been one brief respite, when Roman’s dad had opened his gift. He had been impressed when he saw the ancient coin that Val had helped Roman pick out. But that conversation had only lasted so long, and they fell back into quietness again.

What did you say to your parents after lying about going to college, disappearing for five years, becoming homeless, and then one day calling them out of the blue to tell them that you were not, in fact, dead?

Yeah, Roman didn’t know, either. “Sorry” probably didn’t cut it.

Sure, they’d been talking on the phone every night for over a week since then; but this was different. This was in person.

The changed route made sense when they reached their destination: It was not the house he and his parents had lived in when he was younger. Of course it wasn’t—he should have realized. Why would his parents still share a home, if they were divorced? And why would one of them pay to live alone in a home built for four? Neither case made sense.

He didn’t recognize the house they pulled up to. It was a small, modest home, painted a pastel yellow. Hostas lined the walkway up to the door, which was a pale gray. Flowerbeds decorated both sides of the house, filled with various flourishing plants. A small, frosted window was set into the door. It was a cute house, Roman had to admit.

“This is your mamá’s place,” his dad said, sounding unsure of how Roman would react. “We’ve set up the guest room for you.”

Roman stared at the house for a long moment before he unbuckled his seatbelt. His dad grabbed the little suitcase, and they all went inside.

Roman’s dad turned to his ex-wife as they entered the house. “Is it alright if I take him to his room?”

“Of course,” Roman’s mamá replied, locking the door behind them. “I will come with you.”

They walked upstairs. Roman’s mamá opened the second door, and Roman stepped through it, into….

His room.

It was his room.

Everything was arranged how it had been in the old house, down to the placement of the posters on the walls and the pillows on the bed. He bet that if he checked the dresser drawers, the clothes he hadn’t brought to “college” would be there. It was much cleaner than Roman had ever kept his room as a kid; and some of his knick-knacks and toys appeared to be missing; but he could see some boxes under the bed; and he guessed he could find them there. Small details like that aside, the similarity was striking.

“You kept my things,” he finally said, sounding rather shell-shocked.

“Of course we did,” his mamá said. “I… we always hoped… you might come back,” she admitted.

Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Oh,” he said, his voice cracking.

“We’ve missed you,” his dad said from the doorway.

“If there is anything you want to take, you can,” his mamá said. “It is all still yours, after all.”

Roman sat down on the bed. The sheets felt freshly washed.

“Took a while to get everything just right,” his dad was saying. “The room dimensions are a little different than the old one. I think we got it, though.”

“Yeah,” Roman said softly, looking around. “You did.”

It was strange.

“So, your mamá and I were thinking of making encebollado soup tonight,” his dad said, changing the subject. He set down Roman’s borrowed suitcase on the floor, beside the desk.

Roman looked over at him, daring to smile. “Since when do you know how to make encebollado?”

“Okay, your mamá was thinking of making it.”

“I would appreciate some help, if you want to give it,” his mamá tempted.

“I’d love to,” Roman said, and he meant it.

…

Roman and his mamá split the work of cutting everything up for the encebollado, including the fish, onions, tomatoes, and yuca.

Once that was done, Roman’s mamá took care of putting everything together into the soup, adding pickled onions and plenty of spices.

Meanwhile, Roman was put to work cutting up the avocado and limes, as well as the plantains for a side dish. He put the sliced avocado and quartered limes each into a bowl and set those at the table before returning to cook the slices of plantain.

“Not too long, mijo,” His mamá said, watching. “They could burn.”

“I like mine crispy,” he reminded her.

(That brief exchange felt so much like one they might have had years ago, before everything changed, that Roman froze for a second, and had to minutely shake himself to get back to what he was doing.)

“It smells amazing,” his dad chimed in. He was mainly serving as a cheerleader where he sat at the kitchen table, commenting on how great everything looked and smelled. He wasn’t a great cook, and Roman’s mamá didn’t trust him to operate a cutting board. Probably for good reason.

Roman glanced up to see him stealing an avocado slice.

“Hey, I saw that,” he said, his heart beating faster as he tried to take on a joking tone.

Thankfully, his dad just smirked. “Saw what?” he asked, taking another slice.

Roman pointed the spatula at him as if in warning, narrowing his eyes.

His dad stuck the avocado slice in his mouth and smiled. Roman gasped as if affronted by his audacity.

Roman’s mamá seemed amused (and possibly relieved) by their antics. “How was your trip, mijo?” she asked, stirring the soup. Roman’s dad was right. It did smell amazing.

“It was fine,” Roman said. “The bus driver was really nice, and I got a window seat.” He flipped over the plantains he was cooking. “Pat and Logan dropped me off,” he added, smiling a little. “They were waving goodbye even as we were pulling away.”

“They seem like good friends,” his mamá said approvingly.

“They are,” Roman agreed. He didn’t deserve them.

…

After dinner, which was only about a quarter of the way as awkward as Roman had feared it would be, Roman’s dad took his plate to the sink, squeezing his son’s shoulder on the way.

“I have to go, but I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” Roman said. He watched his dad as he walked into the kitchen, rinsed off his bowl and set it in the sink, and went to grab his coat.

“Bye,” he said.

“Bye,” said Roman.

“Chau,” said his mamá.

The door closed, and Roman’s mamá, who was loading the dishwasher, paused, clearly thinking about something. Roman watched her, starting to grow worried. As he’d expected, she turned to him.

“May I show you something?”

Roman, still sitting down at the table, shifted uncertainly; but he wasn’t going to refuse. “Claro, Mamá.”

She nodded, and walked over to a different part of the kitchen counter. “Some months after you disappeared,” she said, retrieving something from a drawer, “we received a phone call.”

Roman frowned.

She hovered behind the counter, looking down at whatever it was she had taken out. “It was from the police department in a city called Clearwater. They said that they had received a 911 call from someone who reported anonymously that a group of men had attacked a man under a bridge.”

Roman forgot how to breathe.

He knew exactly what she was talking about.

Those men. Their laughter. Their accusations. A knife, gleaming in the night.

The thin scar just under his jaw felt like it had been outlined in ice. His ribs and his tongue ached in memory.

They’re gone. You got away, he reminded himself. If they were going to find you and kill you, or send the police after you, it would have happened a long time ago.

He squeezed his hands together, and he waited.

His mamá hadn’t seemed to notice his reaction, too distracted by her own thoughts. “They said that by the time they got the call, no one was there.” She took a shuddering breath. “That there was only garbage, and… blood.” There were tears in her eyes. “And this.”

She walked back to the table, holding a clear plastic bag. She sat down and slid the bag over to Roman. Inside was a broken phone, the corner of it bent, with cracks spread across the screen, and in a case broken in two. A few small pieces of glass that had come free sat at the bottom of the bag.

It was Roman’s old phone.

“They were able to get some of the data off of it, and find out it was yours.” She let out a shaky exhale. “The police returned it to us because it technically belonged to your dad.”

Roman stared down at the phone.

“This is all we had, for nearly five years,” she said. “We told the police to look for you, but they said that there was nothing they could do. We went to Clearwater ourselves, for a week, to try to find you… but we couldn’t.” She paused for a second, apparently decided against saying something, then continued, “We were afraid that… that they had” —she swore in Spanish—“that they had killed you, and… you were gone.”

“I left,” Roman murmured. “I couldn’t stay; I….” He shook his head. The why didn’t matter. “Mamá, I’m sorry.”

His mamá looked at him. “May I ask what happened?”

Roman subconsciously rubbed a hand across his jaw, over the scar there. “It’s not important,” he said. “Some jerks decided to mess with me, because I was there, and they could. But I’m okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Cariño… I did want to know that, but I meant….”

Roman looked away. She meant why he had disappeared in the first place, of course. How he had ended up homeless, and why he hadn’t tried to ask for help before it was well past too late.

He’d already told Logan and Patton most of the story, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell his family. Especially since he suspected that—assuming they believed him—they would think it was their fault, if they knew some of the details. He’d only told them the basics up until then—the fact that Saint Gabriel had retracted their offer of admission, that Roman hadn’t wanted to tell his parents, and that he’d run out of money after leaving home and ended up on the street. But they didn’t know much more than that about the reasons why that had happened in the first place. Or why he’d been so against telling them about being in trouble.

The seconds were ticking by, and Roman still hadn’t said anything.

She studied his face for a long moment, as if deciding whether to push the issue, or to let it go. Finally, she nodded to herself, and she took his hands in hers. “When I heard your voice on the phone, I was so sure it was a cruel joke. But it was really you. You are here.”

Roman’s eyes flicked back towards her, and he gave her a watery smile.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you again.”

“I thought you’d be furious with me,” Roman said, his voice cracking.

“I was,” she admitted. “You know that I was.”

Roman recalled their first phone call with a wince. There had been… quite a bit of yelling, on that call, once she’d been convinced that it was really him on the phone. He didn’t blame her, though. Five years was a long time to go without any word, especially since he had disappeared without any warning.

“But I love you, and your brother,” she said. “And that will not change, whatever your mistakes.”

Roman swallowed hard. A second or two passed in silence.

“…Could we have hot chocolate?” he asked.

“With cinnamon?”

“Yes, please.”

…

Roman stood in front of his old over-the-door mirror, staring at the loose folds of fabric that draped over his thin frame.

After his conversation with his mamá, Roman had come upstairs to the guest room—to his room. Or to the room that eerily mimicked his room, anyway.

Simply to pass the time and definitely not as a way to nostalgically relive the past, and since all his old things were right there, he decided to try on a few of his old clothes and see if they still fit how they used to.

Unsurprisingly, they didn’t.

Well, it wasn’t that they didn’t fit, exactly. Technically, they still fit. But they were a lot looser than Roman remembered them being. The pants he had on might not have stayed up if it weren’t for the belt he wore.

Roman put his hands in the pockets, frowning.

He wondered how this outfit would have fit during the worst days of his homelessness. There had been some… rough times.

He’d never been very good at being homeless.

Roman shook his head, deciding not to dwell on that. He was supposed to be moving on with his life, wasn’t he? He wasn’t homeless anymore, and he wasn’t alone. He had Logan, and Patton, and Val, and his parents. He was fine. The past didn’t matter anymore.

He pulled the shirt back over his head and threw it on the bed with a bit more vehemence than was strictly required. Instead, he picked up the one he’d had on before, one that Logan and Patton had gotten him, and pulled it back on. He changed back into his better-fitted jeans, moved the discarded shirt, and sat down on the bed. He stared for a long moment at the still-open drawer of the dresser, and the neatly folded clothes within.

A thought came to him, and he got back up, looking in the closet. It probably wasn’t there, but just in case, Roman figured there was no harm in checking. He stood on his tip-toes, searching.

His old duffel bag sat on the shelf, just about where it would have been in Roman’s old room. Roman snatched it and pulled it down.

Maybe his old clothes were rather loose; and he didn’t particularly want some of the old t-shirts emblazoned with logos for bands he’d never been a fan of in the first place; but he could still wear most of the clothes. And his parents had said that he could take whatever he wanted from the room.

Roman unzipped the duffel bag and started stuffing clothes in. Even if they were too big now, they might fit better eventually. And for every shirt he could keep from his old things, that was one less shirt he would have to buy for himself later on (or worse, have bought for him).

The half-full duffel bag joined the small blue suitcase on the floor, and Roman went to bed. He would have expected to lie there, awake, for hours, overthinking the next day; but he fell asleep too fast.

…

It turned out that Roman’s parents had gone ahead and made plans for what they and Roman would do over the long weekend. It seemed that they really wanted to make up for lost time, judging by the packed days.

Saturday morning, they went to the local park, revisiting old haunts that Roman hadn’t seen in a long time. The duck pond, the reservoir, the fountain, the old trees and picnic tables where the family used to have picnics when Roman and his brother were kids.

Almost all of the meals Roman had that weekend were homemade—save for when they stopped for ice cream at the mall, or Saturday evening, when Roman’s dad insisted that they go to Olive Garden to celebrate. Apparently he’d gotten a gift card a while back and was looking forward to using it. In any case, all of the meals were rather large. Roman’s mamá made so much food, it was as if she were trying to get her son to gain back all the weight he’d lost over the years within just that one weekend.

…

On Sunday, they were planning to go to the zoo. Roman came downstairs to find that both of his parents were already there, presumably waiting for him. His dad must have come early, so that they could get out the door and have more time at the zoo. Except… something seemed off. They each had plates of breakfast set out in front of them, but the food appeared almost untouched. Roman paused, wondering what was going on. Clearly, he was missing something.

His mamá looked like she was trying not to cry. His dad looked like he was trying to decide whether to be horrified or enraged.

Roman considered just going back upstairs, and “sleeping in” until whatever was going on was over. He took a hesitant step back.

“Roman.”

Too late.

His dad had spotted him, and was beckoning him over. Roman very reluctantly shuffled nearer.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” his mamá said.

Roman glanced between them. “What’s going on?” he asked, hoping he wouldn’t regret the question too much.

His parents glanced at each other. His mamá looked slightly guilty.

His dad cleared his throat. “Your mamá, ah… told me some new information,” he said.

“He needed to know,” she added.

Why did Roman feel like he was about to get in trouble?

“She told me what you told her. About the phone, and Clearwater.”

“…But I didn’t tell her anything,” Roman said, frowning.

Unsurprisingly, they didn’t appear happy with that impulsive response.

“You told her enough,” his dad said.

Roman stared between them. All he had told them was that some jerks had been mean to him, and that he had left the city afterwards to get away from them. How was that any new information? They had already known that his phone had been left behind after some guys had attacked him, and….

Wait.

His mamá had said “a man”. She had said a group of men had attacked “a man”.

Roman gripped the back of the nearest chair.

No. They couldn’t have thought….

“You thought I was one of the guys who attacked someone?” he said, his voice like a dry desert breeze.

“No, mijo, no—”

“Yes, you did!” Roman said, taking a step back. He stared at his dad with wide eyes. “You did, didn’t you?”

“We didn’t know what had happened,” his dad said. “We didn’t know anything, or what to think.”

Roman tried to speak, failed, and shook his head.

A long silence fell, and then his mamá said, “Perhaps… we had almost hoped you were. It was better than thinking you had been….”

His dad sighed. “We’d rather you had been a criminal than dead,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Well, I’m not dead,” Roman said bitterly.

“No, you’re not,” his mamá said. Roman noticed with a sinking heart that she was crying now.

His dad leaned forward. “Roman, what happened? Who were those people who attacked you? Why were you there in the first place?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut.

“Please. Something happened. Why would those people attack you for no reason?”

Roman’s nails bit into his hands. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose, but his dad was making it sound like it was automatically his fault he was attacked. (Which, okay, maybe it was, but the assumption still hurt).

“Roman—”

“I messed up, okay?!” Roman cried, fisting his hands in his hair. “I messed up, and I was—I was just hungry, okay? And those guys found me, and they—they had a knife, what was I supposed to do? I just—I was just trying to—” Roman turned away, his breaths coming in heavy gasps. He kept stammering, hardly knowing what he was saying, just trying to say that it wasn’t his fault and that he was sorry and he’d just run away like a coward because he had no choice and why did they even care about something that happened so long ago and why would they ever think he’d been one of those thugs—

He was suddenly crushed in a hug.

Roman’s stammering broke off, and he buried his face in his mamá’s shoulder.

“Breathe, cariño, please,” she murmured. “Todo está bien, te prometo.”

She held him like that until he had mostly calmed down, and then she gently led him to the living room, where she sat him down on the couch and wrapped him in a blanket, taking her place beside him. She put a hand on his back, occasionally murmuring reassurances.

But his dad kept staring at him.

“This isn’t really news, is it?” Roman said eventually, breaking the silence and steadfastly ignoring the way his voice threatened to give out. “I already told you I was homeless. I messed up. Why is it any big shock that I messed up again?” And again, and again, and again.

“You just said that you were attacked, with a knife,” his dad said. “You could have died!”

Roman shrank into his blanket. “I didn’t.”

“But you could have. And I’m sure there’s other things that happened that you’re not even telling us about—God, five years. It’s been five years. Roman, why didn’t you just talk to us? We could have helped you! You could have stopped all of this before it started.”

His mamá looked at her ex-husband. “James, stop."

Roman worked his jaw. “I did try to tell you, but….”

“But what?”

“But you didn’t believe me! I tried to tell you, I tried to tell you I didn’t plagiarize, but you didn’t believe me. So why would you believe me about anything else? You already think I’m just like Remus.”

“Roman….”

“You do! You do. I know it’s true. Mamá told me, but she didn’t have to.”

His dad’s eyes flicked to Roman’s mamá, who closed her eyes in resignation. “She told you what?”

“That you were angry with me, that you said it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. She said that—that—that I probably ran off to get away from you guys and join a gang or something.”

“I didn’t say you’d joined a gang.”

“But I know what you think of me, what you’ve always thought of me. But, Dad, I’m not him. Please. I’m not Remus.”

“Roman, if you’re trying to say I don’t love you, that’s not true. I love you a lot. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t care.”

“No—no, I know you love me. You love him too. That’s not what this is about.” He looked away, swallowing painfully. “You love me, yeah, but you’ve never trusted me. Not really.” He took a shaky breath. “And I just couldn’t… I could see the looks on your faces when I told you I wasn’t going to Saint Gabriel. I couldn’t.”

A long silence fell.

“I’m going upstairs,” Roman croaked. He got up, ignoring his mamá’s protests, and walked past his dad, who just stared at him, clearly still trying to figure out what to say. Roman didn’t give him that chance. He kept going, hurried up the stairs, and fled into his room. He quietly closed and locked the door, and sat down on the bed, staring at the floor, the blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

Morning turned to early afternoon. Roman didn’t leave his room. He heard voices occasionally. It sounded like his parents had decided to give him some space.

Finally, around 1 pm, he heard someone coming up the steps, and there was a knock on the door. It was his dad.

“Roman?” he asked through the door. “Please open up.”

Roman swallowed, not moving.

“Roman, I’m sorry.”

The floorboards creaked.

“I believe you,” he continued. “If you say you didn’t plagiarize, I believe you. Your mamá does, too. We should have believed you before, and I’m sorry we didn’t. I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t come to us for help. And I’m sorry if we ever made you believe we didn’t think you were a good person. We’ve always known you were a good person.”

It was a little too late, but… it was something.

Roman unlocked the door and returned to the bed.

After a second, his dad hesitantly opened the door. He stepped inside, and silently sat down on the bed at Roman’s side.

Roman pulled the blanket more tightly around himself. His dad stared at one of Roman’s posters for a moment, clearly not actually taking it in, then turned to his son.

“…Were you hurt?” he asked softly.

Roman swallowed. “I’m okay now.”

His dad recognized that as a yes, of course. He sighed through his nose, working his jaw. “How badly?”

Roman hesitated, then tilted his head slightly and touched the inch-long scar just under his jaw. It was faded, but he knew his dad could see it.

“Is that from…?”

“Yeah.”

His dad swore. Roman wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him swear like that before.

“Who were they?”

“There’s no point.”

“We could—”

“There’s no point,” Roman insisted tiredly. Even if they had any proof of who it was, and even if Roman knew more than one of their names, and even if it hadn’t already been four and a half years since the attack, there would be no point. It wouldn’t change anything. Not to mention that the whole reason it had happened to begin with was that Roman was a thief, and he could very well end up as the only one in trouble. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He could tell his dad wanted to argue further, but he let it go.

“Do you want to go back downstairs?” he asked instead. “We could just watch a movie. Have a lazy day. We can go to the zoo some other time.”

Roman bit his lip, then slowly nodded. “Okay.”

His dad got up, and Roman followed him downstairs.

…

Things were better after that. Maybe that conversation hadn’t gone exactly how any of them would have chosen for it to go, but it was clear that they had needed to confront the elephant in the room.

Roman’s mamá apologized, too, once he came downstairs, hugging him tightly and telling him that the only thing that mattered was that he was safe, now.

The rest of the day, they just watched old movies from their collection, and Roman’s mamá played with his hair like she had done when he was very small.

The next day, they still didn’t go to the zoo—maybe a future visit, they decided—and instead went to the mall, where they had fun playing with the puppies at one of the pet stores; and Roman’s dad bought him a couple of books. “For on the bus on Monday,” he claimed, even though there were already books in Roman’s room.

Finally, and yet all too soon, the last day of Roman’s stay had come and gone.

A couple of hours before they had to leave for the bus station, Roman’s mamá came to get him, and she led him downstairs, where his dad waited. His parents sat down at the table, gesturing for Roman to sit down across from them. Once he did, his mamá placed her warm, calloused hands over his own. She opened her mouth, had a false start, then spoke.

“It has been wonderful, having you here for the past few days. I know that not everything was perfect, but I know that it will get better in time.” She took a deep breath. “Mijo, I know that you are planning to go home tonight… and I know that this is a lot to ask, but we were hoping, maybe… you might stay? Here, with us?”

There was a long silence. Roman didn’t know how to respond.

“If you want a week or two, so that your job has some warning, that’s okay,” his dad said, before adding, “We both want you here.”

Roman looked between them.

“…You want me to stay because you think I’m gonna screw up and end up homeless again or something, right?”

“No,” his mamá said firmly. “We want you to stay because we love you. We have missed you, so, so much. We want a chance to try again.”

Roman fell silent again.

He thought of all that his parents had been trying to do these past few days. He thought of the cinnamon hot chocolate, the excursions and movie nights, the big family meals, the not-so-subtle attempts to spoil Roman, and the way his parents seemed to be pretending to still have the same relationship they had always had even though they had been divorced for years. He thought of the guest bedroom, carefully constructed to mirror his old one as exactly as possible. Like a snapshot into a former life. A former life that he couldn’t get back, whether he wanted to or not. And maybe that was okay. He had changed since then. Not necessarily all for the better, but not necessarily all for the worse, either. Going back, pretending he was the same Roman he had been in high school, wasn’t just wishful thinking. It wasn’t realistic; and even if he could do that, it would be a move backwards.

“I think it’s best if I move on with my life,” he said finally. “It won’t do me any good to just go back and pretend the last five years never happened, that nothing’s changed.” He squeezed her hand. “I… I have a job now, and I really like living with Logan and Patton and Val.” And they did want him to come back, he reminded himself. They did. He looked up at his dad. “I do still want to see you guys, though. I’d really like to keep calling you, and visit sometimes, if… if that’s okay.”

His mamá looked sad, but she nodded. “Of course. I understand.”

His dad didn’t look surprised. He laid his hand over his son’s and his ex-wife’s.

Roman smiled shyly. “Plus, we never got to go to the zoo.”

…

When Roman went home, with Patton’s suitcase and his own duffel bag of clothes, Patton and Val came to pick him up. Logan was unfortunately at work, and he couldn’t make it.

As the bus pulled up to the curb, and Roman struggled to blink away his drowsiness (it was a long drive) he saw the pair at the front on the sidewalk. Val looked pretty relaxed, but Patton looked like he was vibrating with apprehension. He was talking to Val, who looked like she was trying to reassure him that everything was fine.

Roman picked up his things, thanked the bus driver, and was one of the first people off the bus.

Patton wormed his way closer, while Roman made his way away from the crowds. As soon as they met, Patton latched onto Roman like a koala bear.

“How’d it go?” Val asked, while Patton was busy trying to crush Roman in a hug.

“It went okay,” Roman said, putting his arms around Patton. He took a deep breath and let it out, smiling. “It went okay.”

Val reached out, and her fingers just barely touched his sleeve before she let her arm fall. “I’m glad.”

Patton finally let go for them to head to the car, already pestering Roman with questions about how his visit had gone, and if he needed to fight anyone or not.

Roman smiled, and he told him about the good parts of his visit. He was sure Patton already knew that there had been hiccups—how could there not have been?—but Roman wanted to focus on what had gone right.

…

On Tuesday, Roman went back to work. He was early, as was becoming his custom, but he showed up only a few minutes before Thomas did. His manager looked perfectly fine, now, so it appeared that whatever had kept him at home for two days the week before had passed. He leaned on his car for a moment before he came in, as always, but he seemed okay.

“Hey, Roman,” he said as he came in, pinning his name tag in place.

“Hey,” Roman responded. He wasn’t sure whether it was bad manners or not to ask his manager if he was feeling better, especially since three days had passed. And he didn’t want Thomas to misinterpret anything. So he didn’t. “How was your weekend?” he asked instead.

“It was good,” Thomas said. “How was yours?”

Roman shrugged. “It was… interesting. But good.”

Just then, the door opened, and Roman glanced up to see Virgil standing there.

Virgil, who was wearing a skirt, and a name tag that said “Rose”.

Otherwise, the outfit under Virgil’s Sanders Café uniform consisted of the barista’s typically emo attire. Black leggings, combat boots, purple nail polish, a distressed long-sleeve shirt, and purple piercings. But instead of jeans, Virgil wore a knee-length, lacy black skirt.

The barista stalked forward, head held high, as if daring anyone to say anything. Thomas just smiled and called out a greeting.

Roman kept glancing at his coworker throughout their shift that day. Virgil was surely aware of it, and maybe it was rude, but Roman couldn’t really help himself. He—She? They?—never said anything about it, but did seem more stiff than usual. But at least Virgil wasn’t being openly hostile. That seemed to have stopped after Roman’s… embarrassing incident, on Friday. Virgil didn’t even comment when Roman bumped into an open, quarter-full milk carton and spilled it across the counter. Thomas noticed too, but he didn’t seem inclined to intervene, instead serving customers like normal while Roman cleaned it up.

Roman glanced at Virgil’s skirt, and remembered several days before, when he’d tried to break the ice with Virgil by making a joke about the “Mary Lee” nametag that the barista wore at the time.

…Roman might have really f*cked up.

He had to know if his guess was correct, but he wasn’t about to ask in front of so many customers, or in font of Thomas.

Finally, there was a break in the crowd; Thomas went in the back for a break; and Roman awkwardly walked over to his coworker.

Virgil tensed immediately, looking suspicious. “What?”

Roman flinched slightly at the tone. “Sorry, I just, um….” He glanced down at Virgil’s skirt. “I just wondered…” he trailed off, gesturing at Virgil, at the skirt and the name tag and the admittedly gorgeous purple lipstick. “Are you…?” God, he was awful at this. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask, but what if he was wrong? What if Virgil got offended at him for even asking? Virgil was already rather volatile to begin with. He didn’t want to break their fragile truce.

Virgil looked unimpressed at Roman’s garbled attempts at a question, arms crossed, an eyebrow cocked as if daring Roman to continue. That wasn’t helpful.

“Are you… Are you a he? Can I call you he? Or is something else… better?” Roman finally got out. He was pretty sure he was the color of a tomato.

Virgil stared at him, looking ready to chew him up and spit him out if he reacted the wrong way. “She,” Virgil finally said in a clipped voice. “It’s a ‘she’ day.”

“Oh,” Roman said. He let out a breath, relieved at not being screamed at. “Okay. Do you want to be called Rose, then, or….?”

Virgil glanced down at the name tag on her lapel, and she actually laughed. “No, no. Virgil will do. This is just one of my collection.”

“Okay. So… if today is a ‘she’ day, does that mean not every day is?”

Virgil pursed her lips. “If you’re asking if you can get away with calling me ‘he’ or ‘they’ every day, the answer’s no.”

“What if I’m not asking that?”

“…Then no, not every day is.” She looked back up then and seemed to be studying Roman’s face. There was a mixture of suspicion and something else in her eyes. Roman shifted uncomfortably. Before either of them could say anything more, the bell over the door rang, and they both snapped back to attention and went back to work.

Various times throughout the remainder of their shift, Roman could feel Virgil’s eyes on him.

Finally, two o’clock came and went, and Virgil and Roman were both in the back, getting ready to leave. Roman took the opportunity to approach his fellow barista. Virgil looked up from her phone as he approached, but didn’t do anything to discourage him from speaking. So Roman cleared his throat.

“Hey, um… about that joke I made a while back, about the “Mary Lee” name tag. I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t know you were… that you weren’t a guy. It was just my stupid attempt to talk with you. I was just fishing for something to say. I’m sorry.”

Virgil stuck her phone in her pocket. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Is it? Because that was pretty sucky of me, I’d say.”

She sighed. “You didn’t know. But I’d appreciate if you didn’t make jokes like that in the future.”

“I won’t. I promise. And if I ever do something stupid again, please tell me.” It would be a lot better than days of hostility without explanation, at any rate.

“Deal.”

Roman felt relief wash over him.

“So…” Virgil said, “how was your family thing?”

“It was good,” Roman said. “We didn’t watch Lord of the Rings or play any video games, though.”

“No? Dang. Weekend wasted.” Virgil shook her head. “Please tell me you at least slept in.”

Roman laughed.

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