#lots of fluff with just the slightest bit of angst that is easily cured and made better

[sloanerisette]

Digi Secret Santa

Merry Christmas @stoppingtosmelltheflowers! I hope it’s a good one, here’s my Digi Secret Santa gift to you!!

Your letter mentioned that you love the 02 gang and especially Takeru! I thought of this little idea that would include both but especially be Takeru-centric.

I’m more used to writing from the basis of the dub, but I used sub names for this, so I hope the characterization is still enjoyable for you!

“Takeru?”

Even as his partner spoke, the blond continued to look out the plane window at the clouds they passed through and the full, green landscape far below.

“Takeruuuuuuu!”

Takeru blinked as he felt a tiny paw gently hit his chest.

When he turned to look at Patamon, who was floating in front of him, his lips turned upwards into a gentle smile.

“Sorry, I was spacing out, what’s up?” he asked, looking to the side as Patamon pointed to the aisle, to see the flight attendant standing with the drink cart.

“Something to drink for you, sir?” she asked in French.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. He ducked his head as a light blush settled on his cheeks, before he cleared his throat, “Tea for me and coffee for my partner, please.”

Patamon settled in Takeru’s lap as he spoke, and Takeru brought down the tray table, which the attendant set the drinks down on moments later.

“Thank you,” Takeru said with a nod as he picked up his paper cup, blowing on it gently before taking a sip.

“You better keep your French up. Remember how annoyed your grandfather was when we got to Paris?” Patamon asked before he took a large gulp of coffee.

“Slow down, you don’t want to burn your mouth,” Takeru chided gently as he slipped back into Japanese, “…I’ll definitely have to do my best. Maybe I can have you and nii-san help me out with that.”

Patamon smiled brightly, “I can do my best!”

Takeru chuckled gently, “I knew I could count on you.”

A young boy who was sitting next to Takeru started squirming in his seat, finally unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, and turned to look up at Takeru and Patamon.

“Excuse me, um… is that your Digimon?” the young boy asked with bright eyes.

“Hello!” Patamon greeted the child cheerfully, and the child’s jaw dropped.

“H-Hi…”

“His name is Patamon.”

“Oooh… I don’t have a Digimon partner yet,” the child said before he looked up at Takeru, “Do you think I’ll get my own Digimon partner one day?”

His heart felt warm at the sight of a child being so excited to see a Digimon. To be able to have Patamon out on a plane flight with him and have no one bat an eye or make comments about how adorable his partner was. This was definitely the kind of thing Hikari always talked about wanting, and it felt good.

“You’ll definitely get one. There’s going to be a day when you and all your friends will have partners of your own. I promise.”

His words left the kid elated, and he gave Takeru a quick thanks and a wave to Patamon before he turned back to the game he was playing.

The pair went silent for a while, Patamon remaining on his partner’s lap after he had finished his coffee, while Takeru continued to look out the window as the view turned from bright blue sky to dark orange twilight.

“Are you excited to see everyone again?” Patamon finally asked once the moon began to slowly rise into the sky.

“Of course I am, it’s been too long,” he said. He took off his neon green beanie by the pom-pom and ran his other hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly to distract himself. After a moment he put it back on, tugging it on slightly as his expression started to falter slightly.

“Takeru, what’s wrong?” Patamon asked.

It didn’t surprise Takeru in the slightest that his partner had caught the subconscious hint that something was wrong.

“Ah, uh, well…” he trailed off, going quiet as he started to think of what to say. Nothing came to mind, though, so he looked at his partner, forcing a warm smile on his face, “It’s nothing, really.”

However, Patamon was unconvinced.

“Takeru… if something’s wrong, I want you to talk to me…”

It was something he still struggled with— being open about himself and his feelings— and even with his chosen Digimon partner urging him to be open and honest, it still didn’t feel easy.

…But he had spent a long time in France and had learned plenty. It would be tough, but he’d have to work on it, even just a bit.

He sighed.

“I’m just… anxious about seeing everyone. A semester is a long time. They’ve all been together all this time and I’ve been… gone.”

“Takeru…” Patamon whined gently, his wings drooping as he frowned up at his partner.

Takeru looked out the window again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“I know we won’t suddenly stop being friends or anything, but I just feel anxious that things might feel different. I’m afraid of feeling like the odd man out.”

“That won’t happen,” Patamon tried to assure him.

“I’m sure you’re right, but…” he started, gently scratching at his cheek as he fell into thought, “…I’ve just been thinking about it the past few days. I just want things to fall back into place like they always have been.”

“I’m sure it will! Remember that video call we had with everyone yesterday? They’re so excited to see you! I bet they’re already at the airport waiting for you,” Patamon laughed.

That was enough to get Takeru to crack a smile, and he laughed alongside his partner.

“Well, they’d be a good…” he checked his watch, “…eight hours early.”

Patamon’s ears drooped, “Aww… we still have that long?” he asked sadly. Takeru nodded.

“’Fraid so, buddy. So no more coffee, ok? We don’t need you crashing as soon as we get off the plane,” he teased, poking his partner gently in the stomach.

“Ok…” Patamon huffed sadly, “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Takeru said, before letting out a loud yawn, “…I think I’m gonna try and get a nap in. Everything has been so hectic and I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off.”

Both his and Patamon’s eyes began to slowly flutter closed.

“Yeah, it might not be that bad an idea to get a little rest…” the Digimon agreed.

In no time at all the two were out like a light, Patamon curled up tight on his partner’s lap.

***

Takeru woke up around two hours before landing and immediately his mind began to race as it started to really sink in just how soon he’d be landing in Tokyo.

His leg began to unconsciously bounce, though thankfully it wasn’t enough to wake Patamon up. The plane remained silent, save for the occasional whispers between a passenger and a flight attendant, and when he looked out the window, seeing his home left butterflies swarming in his stomach. It was a mixture of nerves and excitement, knowing that not too long from now he would see his friends again.

It was so long ago when he first left home to spend a semester abroad, and the time difference combined with how busy he was, how much he wanted to do and see while in France, and how busy everyone else was with high school… he hadn’t had a lot of time to keep in touch with his closest friends, as much as it hurt.

He was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of his partner yawning, and he looked down to see the Digimon that had remained nestled on his lap now turning and twisting onto his back before he slowly opened his eyes.

Patamon’s wings unfurled out from under him, and he looked up at Takeru, blinking a few times.

“Are we there yet?” he asked, then yawned again. Takeru laughed gently.

“Almost. You fell asleep for most of the flight,” he told Patamon, unable to help but yawn as his partner yawned again.

Patamon pushed himself up and took to the air, gently flapping over towards the window. He pressed his face to the window to look down at the approaching island. Takeru craned his neck to look at the small space that wasn’t blocked by his partner.

“Well… guess we really are finally back…” he thought.

The PA on the plane dinged, “Hello everyone, this is your captain speaking. We will begin the process of our initial descent into Tokyo shortly. The local time is 3:30 in the afternoon and the temperature is 12 degrees Celsius. Thank you for coming along with this flight, and we’ll let you know as we begin our descent.”

Takeru wrapped his arms around Patamon and held him close.

“Welcome home, Patamon.”

***

Aside from a bit of turbulence right before they started the landing, the last leg of the flight had been easy, and Takeru was more than ready to get off the plane. Patamon had settled on Takeru’s head as best he could given the pompom of his beanie, and Takeru grabbed his bags as quickly as possible, shuffling behind the others in his row as they disembarked. With the families that had been on the plane, as well as others who were making connecting flights or didn’t know their way around the airport, Takeru found himself taking his time to help point people in the right direction and slowly make his way through the crowds.

It also helped that this minor delay being behind so many people meant he could try and mentally prepare himself and psych himself up a little better.

By the time they reached the baggage claim, he was starting to feel a bit more at ease, and he began to crane his neck around to try and see where his brother was.

What he missed, though, was that through the crowds of people two of his friends were already rushing forward. As he and Patamon turned to look ahead, they saw that Hikari and Miyako just mere inches from him, and they instantly held onto him in the tightest hug he had experienced in a long time.

“You’re back!” Miyako squealed happily.

“It’s so good to see you again!” Hikari cried out.

They had nearly knocked him and Patamon over, but he had barely managed to stay standing.

“Hikari-chan! Miyako-san! W-What are you both doing here!?” Takeru cried out, staring at them with wide eyes and jaw dropped. Patamon hopped off his head and began to fly around the two girls.

“Don’t forget about me!” he squeaked out happily before he landed on Hikari’s shoulder.

“Aww, Patamon, there’s no way I could,” she assured the Digimon.

It didn’t take long for the rest of their group to come over, wasting no time in expanding the group hug. With Daisuke, Iori, and Ken there now, Takeru was in the center of a vortex involving his closest friends. When he was getting ready to take off, he had only expected his brother there to pick him up, but instead he had five of his closest friends rush him, and all of the fears and nerves he had melted away in an instant.

As he was being just about squished by his fellow Chosen Children, those very thoughts seemed so ridiculous in the first place. After nearly half a year in France, being back in Japan…

Takeru gently closed his eyes as he let the warmth of his friends and his Digimon partner overtake him. He could feel tears well up at the corners of his eyes, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. As the group hug started to break, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Already getting that emotional?” Daisuke asked teasingly, a bright smile on his face.

“Emotional and surprised,” he choked out, “What’re you doing here? I thought—”

“Don’t worry, I’m here too,” came the voice of his older brother as he walked over with his arms folded and a satisfied smile on his face.

Takeru looked at his brother for a moment, then moved forward and wrapped him a tight hug.

“Whoa!” Yamato exclaimed, taken aback, but welcoming it all the same, “It’s great to see you, Takeru.”

The others let the brothers have their moment, Hikari and Miyako with big smiles on their faces in particular.

“Great to see you, too,” Takeru said simply. Patamon landed back on Takeru’s head.

“And it’s great to see you, Patamon,” Yamato said, “You kept him safe?”

“As could be!” Patamon assured him with a salute.

“I still can’t believe you’re all here, too,” Takeru said as he looked at his fellow generation of Chosen Children.

“How could we not be here?” Miyako asked, and her simple question caused Takeru to laugh gently. She was right. Once again, he felt so… so ridiculous for his worries.

“We asked Yamato-san if we could tag along and he was more than happy to bring us,” Hikari told him.

“Wait, but how did he—” Takeru started but Yamato spoke up.

“Have the room? Dad let me borrow his van,” he grinned.

“I still can’t believe that thing runs,” Takeru mused under his breath.

“It’s so great to see you again,” Iori said simply. And despite the usual tone of his voice, the look on his face made it clear to Takeru that his Jogress partner was really excited for him to be back.

“Welcome back,” Ken said with a smile.

“Yeah, welcome home, Takeru-kun,” Hikari said. Takeru swallowed a lump in his throat as he felt himself ready to tear up again.

“You guys… thanks for being here,” he said, then looked to his older brother, “And thanks for bringing them.”

“Sure thing.”

Daisuke wrapped his arms over Miyako and Ken’s shoulders, “So what’s the plan now, guys?”

“The plan…?” Iori repeated slowly, tilting his head curiously.

“Well, yeah! We got our friend back finally! We gotta do something fun!” Daisuke grinned as he leaned forward. The sudden weight nearly caused Miyako’s knees to buckle and she maneuvered out from under Daisuke, causing the gogglehead to have to be caught by Ken before he fell.

“Maybe it would be best if Takeru-kun and Patamon got a little rest?” Hikari suggested, looking over at Takeru for a moment to offer him a hopeful smile.

Daisuke’s expression instantly fell, while Takeru shook his head.

“We’ll be good for a little while. We both managed to fall asleep on the plane for a while,” he assured the group.

“Great! That means we can do something fun to celebrate!” Miyako cheered. Daisuke followed up with a cheer of his own.

“Well, I’m good to do anything, do you have any ideas, Takeru-san?” Ken asked. Takeru grimaced.

“Uh, well… not really…” he said as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

Iori sighed, “I don’t think we should be having Takeru-san decide what to do for him when he just got off the plane.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Takeru said, waving off Iori’s concern, “I’d just need a bit to think of something,” he chuckled gently.

“Actually, wait, I have a great idea!” Daisuke spoke up, “I’ve been working on a ramen recipe and got some ingredients, we can all come over to my place and I can whip us up some food!”

“Are you sure your parents would be alright with that, Daisuke-kun?” Hikari asked with a hint of concern in her eyes. Daisuke shrugged nonchalantly.

“They’re gone for a few days. Me and V-mon got the place to ourselves,” he grinned as he put his hands behind his head, leaning back just enough so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Well, if you don’t mind, that sounds great, thanks Daisuke-kun,” Takeru smiled.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to make this recipe but I just haven’t had the chance, so this works,” Daisuke said.

“He’s been waiting for us all to be there before he made it for the first time,” Ken said with a smile.

“Ken! Aww, man…” Daisuke sighed.

Takeru felt his heart swell, and he couldn’t stop from smiling.

“Thanks. I’m really excited to try it.”

“Definitely beats airplane food, I bet,” Miyako added.

Takeru laughed, “Definitely.” Yamato stepped over, pulling out the keys from his pocket to twirl them with his finger.

“You kids ready to go then?” Yamato asked.

“Oh, uh, maybe we should stop by mom’s place real quick? Just so that way I can drop my stuff off and—” Takeru started, but was cut off by his older brother.

“Don’t worry. I’ll head over and drop your bags off and let her know.”

“Then let’s get going! We got ramen to eat!” Daisuke shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

***

Thankfully the drive back hadn’t been too bad, both between the traffic and the sad state his dad’s old van was in, and they had gotten back to Daisuke’s home in Odaiba without incident. Takeru had asked his older brother a few times if he wanted to at least stick around long enough to get a bowl of ramen, but Yamato had repeatedly insisted, “No, I’m fine, you should just enjoy the time with your friends.”

And once they were inside, it had felt so… strange. It had only been around a half a year since he had been in the Motomiya apartment, and it cemented just that he really was home. It was like nothing had ever changed, like he had been there all along. As happy as that made him, it also left him feeling a bit empty, in a way. They had been doing stuff like this all along without him. His chest felt tight at the thought. Even if he was glad that they were all able to spend so much time together, his heart panged knowing that he wasn’t able to join them.

Thankfully none of them, even Patamon, didn’t notice that brief moment of sadness that flashed across his face, instead all too focused on chattering away. It helped him distract himself from his own thoughts, too, so focused on all that was going on.

“Maaaaaan, I can’t wait for for this ramen to be ready! This is gonna be crazy good, you guys!” Daisuke grinned as he set a large soup pot on high, then rubbed his hands together.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve had any ramen and I know this is going to be great. I can’t wait,” Takeru said. Daisuke’s face turned a crimson red and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“I mean, like I said, it’s no big deal…” Daisuke mumbled, unable to help the small smile that came on his face. Hikari couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“It’s really sweet of you,” she told him, which only intensified the goofy look on his face.

Daisuke opened his mouth to speak again, but Miyako quickly held a hand up.

“We need to hear about Takeru-kun’s time in France!” she shouted.

Takeru’s eyes went wide, “Really? I mean, I’ve already talked about it a bit.”

Brief video calls using less than desirable when it could work out were the most they could all manage, which had never been enough.

Even still, Takeru couldn’t imagine many exciting things to talk about, trying to wrack his brain for anything exciting.

“But there’s gotta be something, right?” Miyako asked.

“Well…” Takeru mumbled.

“Did you have a good time with your grandparents?” Iori asked.

“They’re great! Takeru’s grandfather is always so fun and he took us so many places!” Patamon said happily.

“Was there any good food?” V-mon asked as his head finally popped up from behind the counter.

“Oh, the food was so yummy! Lots of bread and cheese and the desserts were sooooooo good!” Patamon squealed. V-mon sighed.

“Oh, that sounds good. I could go for a fancy dessert,” the blue dragon Digimon said.

“What? But I buy you so many chocolate bars from Ai Mart!” Daisuke whined.

“Sometimes I could go for a fancy French dessert,” V-mon said as he scratched the top of his head.

“You didn’t even know about French desserts until just now,” Hikari laughed.

“Maybe one day we can all visit France together,” Takeru suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” Ken nodded.

“Oh! I would love to visit France!” Miyako said as she clasped her hands together with a dreamy look in her eyes, “It’s supposed to be so romantic and beautiful and all of that food sounds so good!”

“Maybe we can go after we graduate?” Hikari suggested. Miyako narrowed her eyes and let out a loud huff.

“That would be so long to wait, though!” she whined. Iori cracked a small smile.

“We can always go when Miyako graduates so she doesn’t have to wait as long,” he teased gently. However, that just left Miyako lighting up even more, and she shot her arms in the air.

“That’s a great idea!”

“Don’t worry about France right now! We’ve got delicious ramen coming your way! V-mon, help me serve these up!” Daisuke called out to his partner, who scrambled over to the stove to assist.

“It’s done already?” Ken asked.

“Yeah,” Daisuke said before he let out a sigh, “I would’ve liked to let the broth sit longer, but if I did it wouldn’t be something I’d want to serve until tomorrow.”

Takeru blinked.

“You’ve been taking cooking really seriously since I left,” he said.

Daisuke looked over his shoulder after ladling some broth into a bowl, “You know it! I had always thought about it and wanted to do it, but, I dunno… I’ve felt really driven lately. I’ve just been thinking about how much I want to be the best ramen chef ever…”

V-mon gently and lovingly placed pieces of pork in the bowls, before setting them to the side.

“Well it smells delicious!” Miyako said, unable to stop from licking her lips.

“It really does. Thank you so much, Daisuke-san,” Iori said with a brief bow of his head.

“Well come on! It’s not gonna eat itself!” Daisuke said as he lifted a tray that was now holding ramen for the group, and carried it over to the table.

Bowls, chopsticks, and spoons were passed out, and the group of Chosen Children, as well as V-mon and Patamon, slowly began to eat in silence, aside from the occasional content noise.

It wasn’t just the soup that warmed his entire body, but the company, too. Sitting next to Hikari-chan, their shoulders occasionally bumping into each other, watching Iori so meticulously go about eating his ramen, while Miyako and Daisuke ate so ravenously one would’ve thought they hadn’t eaten for a few days, and Daisuke asking Ken for feedback every so often.

Patamon and V-mon had gorged themselves near immediately, even faster than Miyako— which Takeru wasn’t sure was even possible— and were quick to run back to the kitchen to get some of the remaining broth.

Back in France, he would get up before school, have a quick meal with his grandmother, grandfather, and Patamon, something that was completely unceremonious compared to breakfast back home. Some butter and jam on a piece of baguette and a quick cup of coffee, or maybe a chocolate croissant as a treat, before he’d have to hurry off.

“It’s pain au chocolat, Takeru! Never just a ‘chocolate croissant’!”

He remembered his grandfather scolding him the first time he had made the mistake, and the thought brought a smile to his face. Even if he had teared up as he bid his grandparents farewell before leaving to meet his flight, he was just glad to have had all that time with them. He would treasure it just as much as he was treasuring this meal with his best friends. That he was able to be close, to watch in content silence as he slowly ate his fill of this delicious ramen, he…

“Takeru-kun, are you ok…?”

Hikari’s voice was so quiet, so slight, that he was surprised he even heard it, especially considering how deep in thought he was. He turned his head to look at her, suddenly realizing the wetness gathering at the edges of his eyes. He blinked away tears, which fell onto the table silently, and he felt at a loss for words.

“O-Oh, I’m—” he started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Takeru-kun, is something wrong?” Miyako asked, barely able to be understood with her mouth full of noodles.

“I bet it’s because the ramen is so good,” Daisuke grinned, which left Miyako rolling her eyes in annoyance as she swallowed her food. Takeru could feel more tears well up, but at the same time he couldn’t help but chuckle gently hearing their bickering. It had been so long since he heard the two of them go back and forth that it sounded almost foreign to his ears, and hearing it again brought in a rush of emotions all at once.

Sitting with everyone, eating ramen, watching his partner loudly slurp the broth before getting more without any hesitation, it was all of these little things all at once that washed over him like a tidal wave, memories from what felt like forever ago flooding back as he witnessed the same things again.

“Takeru-san…?” Iori asked quietly, gently setting his chopsticks down as he watched his Jogress partner with worry clear in his eyes. Both the spoon and chopsticks fell from Takeru’s hand as his body started to gently shake, and he couldn’t stop himself from sniffling loudly.

“Takeru-kun, what’s wrong?” Hikari asked again, voice rising as panic overtook her. Instead of an answer, though, Takeru buried his face in his sleeve, his body to shake rougher than before as he started to cry, tears staining the fabric of his shirt.

“Takeru-san!” Ken shouted with worry, and Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken all shot up from their seats.

“What’s wrong, are you ok?” Hikari asked, and after a few moments, Takeru slowly nodded, not moving his face as he continued to cry.

He felt bad for worrying his friends, no, he felt awful about it, but it had been so good to just… be back home. To be with everyone. To know that nothing had changed even when he was worried that something might. But no, everything went right back to where it was as if Takeru had been gone for six hours as opposed to six months. He slotted back into place so easily when that had been his biggest fear in the week leading up to the flight back.

On the flight he had been terrified that things might be different between him and the others. Even earlier, when things had gone well and he knew he had blown it out of proportion, there was an inkling of fear deep in the back of his mind that maybe something would change after this first hang out back. Maybe he would seem too different to them, or they might be hurt because of the lack of opportunities to talk over all that time.

It was ridiculous, it was all so ridiculous. Those first thoughts had been ridiculous, the anxiety that left his stomach churning and his leg bouncing on the plane had been ridiculous, and the way he wracked his brain to over complicate how something could go wrong when nii-san drove them to Daisuke’s place had been ridiculous.

“I-I’m just so glad to be back,” he choked out, finally pulling his arm away to reveal red, puffy eyes that were still welling up with tears. He let out a gentle cough in between his happy sobbing.

“I was… I was so scared that things might be weird, or that I wouldn’t… wouldn’t fit in with you guys after so long,” he admitted weakly. The faces of the other Chosen Children fell.

“Why would you think that, man? Come on, there’s no getting rid of us, and we aren’t getting rid of you,” Daisuke said, unable to help but sniffle as Takeru could tell from his own crying eyes that Daisuke’s were getting a bit misty.

Takeru wiped his tears away and let out a long sigh, “I don’t know why I thought that would happen, but… six months is a long time. You’ve all been in school here while I was abroad, and I thought it might feel… different because I was gone for so long.”

“But that never changed our relationships with our Digimon,” Hikari said kindly, setting a gentle hand on Takeru’s shoulder, “We were separated from them for nearly three years, and that didn’t change anything between you and Patamon, right?”

“That’s right!” came Patamon as he flew from the Motomiya kitchen to land on Takeru’s head, “You were still my best friend even when I was stuck in the Digital World!”

“And if all that time wasn’t enough to break down yours and Patamon’s friendship, then this wouldn’t be enough to break down ours,” Iori told him confidently.

“He’s right. We’ll always be a team,” Ken added immediately.

Takeru couldn’t help but smile as his body began to shake again when more tears started to pour down his cheeks.

“Thank you, you guys,” he choked out.

“Aww, Takeru-kun! It’s just like Daisuke said, nothing will change between any of us! You could’ve been in France for years and nothing would be different,” Miyako said.

“You’ll always have us,” Hikari promised him, “Even when you’re all the way across the world.”

“I think this calls for a group hug!” Miyako called out as she rounded the table.

“I think this calls for another round of ramen!” Daisuke and V-mon shouted at the same time, looking at each other in surprise before they scurried off to refill their bowls.

Takeru couldn’t help but laugh at the synchronicity between the two, the tears falling now ones from joy as those emotions started to wash over against the anguish he was feeling just moments ago. Miyako ran over to give Takeru a tight hug, which Hikari followed suit in. Although Ken and Iori weren’t always the most overly affectionate, they too wasted no time in participating in this warm moment with the group.

“Daisuke, get over here!” Miyako shouted, while Daisuke hummed to himself in the kitchen.

“Ok, ok! I’m coming!” Daisuke grumbled, the bowl clattering against the counter top as he hurried over with V-mon in tow. The two just about leapt onto the group to join in.

After a few moments, Daisuke finally peeled himself off and ran back to the kitchen, “Ok, more ramen for everyone! We still have a lot left so you guys gotta eat up!”

V-mon started to grab a few bowls, and Ken picked up a few more to assist in the process.

“So do you want to talk about anything fun that happened in France?” Hikari asked. Takeru looked at the group at the table, then looked over his shoulder to see Daisuke walking over with more food, a look of sheer elation plastered on his face as he licked his lips.

“Yeah! Tell some more stories while we eat!” Daisuke encouraged him.

“Well, if you insist,” Takeru said as V-mon handed him a fresh bowl of hot ramen. Takeru inhaled the scent and let out a content sigh. He really was home and he couldn’t ask for anything else, “Thanks V-mon.”

“Sure thing!” the Digimon said, giving Takeru a thumbs up before he started to just about inhale his own food once he sat down next to Daisuke.

Takeru took a moment to take a few bites, thinking long and hard about what to talk about. Now? He couldn’t wait to tell stories about his time abroad. And he couldn’t wait to hear about everything that happened here in Odaiba. There was so much to catch up on, and even if he wasn’t there for it, they were still adventures he wanted to hear all about.

“Ok, well, I was still a bit shaky on some of my French for the first few weeks, right? So during one of my classes…”

The night continued on with eating, stories, laughter, and even a few tears as the group finally broke apart towards the end of the night, all of them happy to have their group whole again.

[blownbybakugou]

I Am The Game

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): 𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: Slight angst, Fluff

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Shigaraki poisoned Toga, but you made a cure and saved her life. Toga snapped and praised you as her god, then lead you to the league of villains, where Tomura took an interest to your quirk...

Word Count: 2.7k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Blood, attempted murder, mention of actual murder, cussing, mind break (non-sexual), Yandere properties, tooth rotting fluff, aged up/down reader (22), slightly Ooc Toga.

The sound of a steaming kettle is what woke Himiko, her body jerking up from its placement and her eyes flashing across the room. She was startled from her surroundings, to say the least. She was not able to recognize anything around her, then her eyes land on you, a young woman in her early 20s pouring a cup of herbal tea into a mug and treading towards the bed Toga was seated on.

“W-Who are you?” Toga asks, scooting back until she was against the wall behind her. “My name is Y/n. You were betrayed by your leader, and I saved you from your demise.” You spoke strongly. “But why?” Toga softens, her muscles relaxing the slightest bit. “I have a proposal. You being loyal, agile and brave, makes you a worthy companion. And therefore, I would like to ask you if you would join me, be my partner in crime, or whatever you wish to call it”

Your voice was silky and pristine while your expression contradicted what she heard. Your eyes were dull, but she couldn’t exactly tell what they looked like exactly, since they were settled on your lap, and had no emotion in them whatsoever and the rest of your face was soft and glowing with beauty. “You barely know me, how do you know if I am as loyal as you think I am?” Himiko questions, giving a quick grin to show off her sharp canines.

“I have watched you for quite awhile. I knew what was going to come of you, and I felt that I should recruit you as my own, since they didn’t see the potential in you.” You hand her the mug of tea you had poured and look her in the eyes for the first time. Toga was instantly entranced, the color of your eyes flourishing and dancing in her own. “Drink this. It’ll get rid of the headache you have.”

She hadn’t even noticed the pounding in her head until when you mentioned it, but she takes the herbal mix quickly, eager to please you. She gulps it down as fast as she can and sets down the mug with a bright smile. “That was good tea Y/n-Chan! Thank you.” You are taken aback by the sudden change of mood, but make no mistake to question it. Instead, you get up to put the mug in the sink of your apartment.

“So, do you accept my offer?” You query, glancing back at a very giddy Himiko. “Yes! You saved my life, how could I say no?” Her enthusiasm was confusing to you. She is a villain whom found out her own boss backstabbed her, yet she is being so trusting of you. As if you were her mother, or sister.

“Wonderful. We will be moving a lot, and before we start the murderous sprees, I believe a talk with your former boss, is in order.” You state, walking over to her with a smug smile. “Oh my god yes! This is going to be so fun!” Toga beams.

You kicked down the door with a small smirk, looking at all of the people inside and giving them a mock wave. Himiko giggles and leaps over the now broken door sending a deadly glare at Shigaraki, whom was leaned back in a chair nearby. “Hello everyone. This, is a warning. Dishonor has plagued you all, and we’ve come to rip it down. If you do not change your ways of betrayal, I shall send you all to a nightmarish hell, where you all will perish in ways unimaginable. But anyway, this is my partner, Himiko Toga. You may know her?” You send a teasing laugh in the way of Tomura.

“You are weak, especially without someone of her abilities, and you were a fool to try and kill her.” You say, moving up to his face, his scarred, oddly attractive face. He growls, and places his hand firmly on your cheek, waiting for the cries of mercy to begin. Only for you to punch him right in the nose. “What do you think you’re doing, you handsy bastard!” You yell, shaking your hand out.

Shigaraki takes a second to process the event that just played out. You didn’t decay. He touched you, with all 5 fingers, and you didn’t decay. “Who are you? And what the hell is your quirk?” His raspy voice sought out. “None of your damn business”

“Join us. You’re clearly very powerful, and we could use someone like you.” You snap you head to meet his daring orbs and glare him down. “You have nothing for me, therefore, I will not stay.” You try and shake free of his grasp, but his grip only tighten in determination to have you stay. You were the one he was meant to be with. The only one who he couldn’t kill with his deathly touch. He couldn’t lose you like this.

“Let go.” Himiko demands, clasping a knife closely behind her back. “What if I make you a deal? If the girl stays with you, you can both stay in the league. Sounds fair, right?” Shigaraki grins, pulling you into him. “That’s the boss’ choice, not mine. I follow her now.” Himiko snarls. “I shall not stay unless I hear an apology for Himiko.” You sneer, pushing yourself away from him and pulling your hand out of his.

His body jerked at the thought of admitting he was wrong. But you were worth it. You had to be worth it. “I’m sorry, Toga. I thought it would be better for the league, but I was wrong.” He grumbles begrudgingly. Your breath hitched, much like everyone else’s. You hadn’t expected him to actually apologize. You thought he would refuse you, and you and Toga could move on. But no, apparently this guy really didn’t want you to leave.

“Okay then, I suppose we can stay. Are you okay with that Himiko?” You question, looking back at your shocked friend. “Of course boss!” She cheers, giving you a loose hug around the waist. “I’m going to work on something. Toga, I need you with me.” You motion over to a booth with a table that was a bit dusty, but cleared off nonetheless.

The blonde female skipped over to the sitting area as you walked behind her, trying to ignore the scarlet eyes that followed your every movement.

You both sat on the red cushions of the booth seats, and you activate your quirk to begin the creating process. A cyber holographic screen projects out of your eyes and you let it float in the awaiting air as you reach into your backpack for your keyboard and controller.

You set them on the dust covered surface and watch as transparent green strings go to attach into each of the devices you had placed there. “Wow! Your quirk is so cool Y/n-Chan!” Himiko gushes, smiling widely and bouncing in her place.

“Thanks, I suppose. Stand and pose with your knives. Look frightening if you would.” You claim, fingers pressing against the hologram to move the surroundings inside.

Happily, Toga obliges. She puts on a face much like a yandere’s and hovers her knives with one behind her and one in front, seemingly about to strike. “Wonderful.” Your hand mindlessly reaches out to the side, scanning her body all while your other hand typed in code to enter her into your program.

Shigaraki’s vision trained intensely on your abilities, his gaze landing strictly on the translucent green display even when his eyes tried to wander further. What the fuck was your quirk? The question haunted him, he needed to know what power you held that stopped him from disintegrating your body, that let him touch you.

You could easily feel the many observations of the others around you, but you pay it no mind as you program Himiko into your game. Well, many have called it a game, but it is no game. It’s a nightmare no one would ever want to live in, let alone see. You were the one who made it into that, and you were also the one who trapped people inside of it.

You snap out of your thoughts of misery, and continue typing code while letting your scan sweep over every inch of Himiko’s form. She had done many poses for you, and you had implemented twice as many into your data base with only doing some slight editing and Himiko was evidently cheerful about it.

“You can sit back down. I have what I need now.” You say nonchalantly, your gaze not leaving your work. “Okay, got it boss!” She says, seating herself almost immediately. “Would you like to give it a try?” You ask, typing one last line of key into the system before starting and holding the controller out to Toga. “This is gonna be so fun!” She excites, throwing her arms in the air and squealing. If everyone wasn’t looking at you before, they definitely were now.

“Okay, there are 31 enemies in the area, all of which are horrendously terrifying. They plan to kill you in the most awful ways, and if you get trapped I’ll pull you out right away.” You speed through the explanation, trying to be vague about the outcomes and twists so that she could not easily defeat the monsters inside of your game. “Got it boss!” She beams, grabbing the controller and getting sucked into your algorithm.

Shiggy couldn’t believe his eyes. Did Toga just get sucked into a video game? This was his every dream, and he feels the itch to want to talk to you and claim you grow with every passing minute. “Stop being a pussy and go talk to her, Scarface.” He hears a deep voice scoff. “Whatever patchwork” Tomura retorts.

You watched Himiko pass each fictional horror character with flying colors, each one of her tactics more impressive than the last. You were implementing her fighting style into the game while also observing her movements to know when to pull her out of the fake environment.

You were snapped out of focus when you heard Shigaraki seat himself beside you and you lift your head lifting up to give him a daring glare, silently lettting him know to screw off. “I saw your quirk.” He says, pointing to the green panel before you.

“Yeah, And?” You snort, going back to typing away at your keyboard. “I want to play.” He deadpans. “Fuck no. Go away.” You retort, shooing him off. “Why the hell not?” He growls, clenching his fists tightly. “Because you’re a dick, and I don’t like you.” You exclaim.

“You sound like a fucking 5 year old! Just let me play damnit!” He demands, looking at your unaffected expression. “No.” You respond. With Tomura’s distractions, you had completely forgotten about Toga, who was finished with the main course of the levels, and was waiting to be let in.

You use your quirk to let the luscious blonde back into reality, and listen as she gushes over the details of your powerful quirk. Well, that didn’t last long due to her noticing her former boss’ presence. “What are you doing here Shigaraki?” She asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

“I want to play her game.” He states, voice raising ever so slightly. You laugh at his confidence in the matter. “Oh, honey,” You start. “I am the game. And you have to be really special if you want to play me.” You giggle, packing up your stuff and leaving him there with a heavy blush.

ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴏᴡɴʙʏʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ©

[sequoiann]

the world beneath our feet

member: yoon jeonghan side character(s): kim mingyu (bf) genre: royalty + hanahaki with a twist + fluff & angst (pt4) word count: 4.2k

tagged: @hnslchw​

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Jeonghan went into a daze. He wanted to get the physician, Ivy, to repeat what she had just said, but as much as hoped that he had heard her wrong, he knew well enough that it had really happened. 

The King and Queen were confused, and rightfully so. To them, it seemed that Jeonghan had loved you with his whole heart, so that rule wouldn't have made sense. They would've probed further, but the look on their son's face made them keep it for later.

The King turned back to Ivy, speaking in a firm but not unkind tone. "Prescribe Y/N whatever medicines are necessary. Give her treatment as you would to royalty.”

Ivy had a worrisome frown on her face and seemed like she was going to say something, but the slightest shake of the Queen's head made her realize their intentions. She simply acknowledges the orders as the Queen thanked her, before bowing and leaving the room.

The Queen then turned to Jeonghan, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. "She'll be fine, dear."

Jeonghan felt a rush of irritability but quickly subdued those feelings, knowing his mother was just trying to console him. Shaking his head, he tried to put whatever was left of his rationality into words.

"You should head back to the celebration," he said softly. "We shouldn't leave the guests." 

The Queen nodded, understanding his concern. 

"We will soon, son," the King assured.

Jeonghan sat on the armchair by your bed, watching you as you slept. Was this how you felt when he was sick? he wondered. He had many thoughts and he was spending the time organizing them. 

Physicians were hustling in and out of your room every hour or so, gently pouring liquids down your throat because you didn't seem to have the energy to wake up. It was so frequent that he got annoyed; he was sure you would probably want some peace and quiet too, so you could just rest. Besides, he, of all people, knew that medicine wasn't going to help you. If medicine worked on this disease, he would've been cured of it long ago. 

When it reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore, he ordered the physicians to limit their entry to the room, saying that he'll take responsibility regarding the orders from the King. 

Only then it was quiet. And that's when he started thinking.

Why did he even doubt you? How could he have missed out on that rule? He should've known better, being one who had read books after books of hanahaki (that barely provided any useful information, if he might add  — they just went on and on about the dangers of it, and they made him feel so dejected and pessimistic he just stopped reading altogether.) 

His thoughts continued to drift.

(After sending the King and Queen out of the room and a little down the hallway, Jeonghan had turned to return to your room. He'd just check on you one last time before he went for the announcing. He caught sight of someone standing right outside your door, facing him. His eyes traveled up and recognized the man as Mingyu. Jeonghan felt his heart squeeze and his throat tighten as he stopped in his tracks.

Mingyu was the one who walked up to Jeonghan. His eyes were fuming, his jaw clenched. The next move happened so fast Jeonghan barely saw it, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't expecting it. Mingyu was now grabbing Jeonghan by the collar. 

"It was you, wasn't it?" Mingyu growled through gritted teeth. He didn't care about the fact that they were both surrounded by guards now, armed guards who were a step away only because Jeonghan had discretely held up a hand by his side to hold them back.

"You have no idea how much she loves you," Mingyu fumed. "She went through so much and saved you from death. And this is how you repay her? Do you know how much pain she goes through every time you doubt her? Have you seen her writhe just because you're being an insecure asshole? Have you seen it?" He was shouting by the last sentence, his grip tightening around the fabric. The guards tensed, ready to pull him off the prince, but Jeonghan kept his hand up.

No one else but Mingyu was close enough to see that Jeonghan's eyes were bloodshot; his nose soured up and his throat tight from the urge to cry. A prince doesn't cry.)

Jeonghan didn't notice how wet his eyes had become until he felt a teardrop pool at the outer corner of his eye, just enough to bead but not enough to roll down his face. Mingyu's words were haunting his mind.

Jeonghan swallowed and shifted his armchair closer to you, thankful that you were placed lying closer to one side of the wide bed so that he could easily hold your hand — and keep it held as he propped his elbows on the bed.

Rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, he watched you, taking in your small details: how your eyebrows weren't exactly symmetrical but were cleanly shaped, how you had some freckles along your cheeks (probably because you were out in the sun so much when you were still the palace gardener, he deemed) and how your lips were slightly parted as you slept.

Your lips.

When did it happen, he questioned. Was it when you two kissed he kissed you? Or maybe being side-by-side was all the flowers needed to- to switch a host...

Jeonghan was suddenly overwhelmed with the need (the want?) to be away from you. As far away as possible, so he won't do you any more harm. So whatever flowers he had left would stay in him. So that perhaps, you'd stop loving him, so the flowers in you would die off without causing you pain ever again.

Almost in a trance, Jeonghan slowly loosened his hold on your hand, placing it back down beside you before standing up. His hand was still on yours, as if memorizing how your skin felt just one more time, before he turned to leave.

You curled ur pinky, which hooked onto one of his fingers right before it managed to slip out of your hand. Jeonghan whipped his head back around to see your eyes fluttering open. 

Jeonghan hesitated. He wanted to crush you in a hug and plant kisses on your forehead and tell you you'd be alright and that he would stay right beside you —  but he couldn't. 

"Jeonghan," you whispered. "Where are you going?"

It took everything for him to not just break down right there and then. 

Just this once, he told himself. This one last time. 

He came closer to the bed, bending over you as he let his hand caress your head and move the stray strands aside. 

"To get the doctor, love," he told you, allowing a small smile. 

"What happened? Am I sick?" 

"Yes, but you'll be fine," Jeonghan tried to assure you. "We all get sick sometimes." 

You smiled, chuckling softly as you let your heavy eyelids close. "So now it's your turn to take care of me, huh?" 

Jeonghan would not have heard what you said if he wasn't so close to you. As you drifted back to sleep, you don't notice the pause before Jeonghan answered. 

"Yes, I'll take care of you." 

The next time you woke up, it was dark. And strangely cold. 

You felt a lot better after a day or two. The royal physician had told you that you collapsed because of overwork and fatigue, and you were a little confused at first since you didn't think you were, well, overworked, but perhaps you had been quite busy the past couple weeks that you didn't notice.

Sitting up on your bed, you looked over to a maid standing beside the door with her head bowed. It made you uncomfortable that she was being so formal around you when you weren't even royalty. 

She seemed to notice you staring at her for a while, so she bowed a little, asking, "Is there anything you need, Princess Y/N?" 

You were taken aback. "Please, I'm no princess," you hurriedly said as you got off your bed. Did the King already make the wedding announcement? Is that why they're addressing you as such? "Just Y/N will do." 

When the maid didn't respond, you continued, "Is the prince in his office? I haven't seen him in a while. He must be busy."

 "Prince Jeonghan is out for duties, Your Highness," she responded, and you pressed your lips into a thin line. It would take a long time for you to get used to being addressed like that.

"Right. I'll just take a walk then." 

"As you wish, Your —" 

"Right there," you cut her off as you put up a finger and scurried uncourtly to the door, giving her a small wave before you left. "I'll be back soon!"

Telling the guards outside your room that there was no need for them to accompany you, you wondered if you should go to the garden or the kitchen first. In the end, you settled with the kitchen. You remembered the moments right before you had passed out that day; the pain in your chest and fainting on Mingyu. You chuckled to yourself  — he must've been quite shocked. (You wondered how overwork has got to do with feeling like you had your insides pinched and twisted.)

You stopped outside the kitchen door and peeked in, scanning around for a taller-than-average figure and frowning when you don't spot him.

"Oh, Y/N!" one of the older cooks called. You smiled and said hi. She was the one that usually let you steal bits and pieces of the food during preparation.

"Is Mingyu here?" you asked. 

"He went to deliver brunch," she said. "He should be back soon." 

You nodded and said your thanks before turning around, almost crashing head-first into someone's chest. And only 1 person would be tall enough for your head to be at their chest level.

"Ah, there he is," you heard the cook lady mutter.

"Mingyu!" you grinned.

He looked surprised, glancing at the lady before leading you away from the kitchen door. "What are you doing here?"

"What, am I not allowed to be here? I'm always here," you retorted.

Mingyu frowned. "I thought you weren't allowed to leave your room." 

It was your turn to be confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You could almost hear the gears turning in Mingyu's head as he zoned out for a second. 

"Anyway," you started, snapping him out of it, "Shouldn't your first question be among the lines of "oh! Y/N! Are you feeling better?" instead of "why are you here"?" 

Mingyu rolled his eyes before droning, "Oh, Y/N, beloved Y/N, are you feeling better?"

You shoved him, your strength making him smile.

"Yeah, you must be feeling better," said Mingyu as he rubbed his arm, hiding his relief. "What did the doctor say?"

"Overwork," you shrugged, hugging yourself. "Kinda weird a diagnosis but, she's the doctor."

Mingyu's smile disappeared almost immediately as he bit the inside of his cheek. You frowned again.

"What?" you asked. "Stop doing that. You're scaring me." 

Someone else called Mingyu from inside the kitchen, and you looked towards the sound. Mingyu doesn't.

"I think they need you," you nudged, looking back at him when he doesn't respond. 

He seemed to finish making sense of something as he put a hand on your upper arm before he left for the kitchen. "We'll have to talk tonight." 

You nodded slowly. "Su-ure," you muttered. "Tonight." 

(Your walk in the garden wasn't as lighthearted as you hoped for it to be. Mingyu was always the free, unbothered soul, and the way he acted was bothering you.)

That night, you waited anxiously for Mingyu to come over, but when he doesn't by 9 pm, you left your room in your nightgown and saw him outside, just down the hallway. A flash of relief washed over his face when he saw you emerge. You noticed how the 2 guards stole anxious glances at one another as Mingyu rushed to you.

You were so, so confused. "What are you doing? Why don't you come in?" 

Mingyu looked past your shoulder and glowered at the guards, before gently holding your wrist for a second to lead you away. You followed. 

Both of you rounded a corner to a private, unused room. It was where informal meetings were held.

You sat down on one of the chairs. "I feel like I've missed a week worth of tea while sick. Are you going to fill me in?"

Mingyu sighed. "You trust me, right?" 

"Is that a real question?" 

Mingyu doesn't laugh. 

"Yes, yes I do." 

Mingyu hummed. "I'll tell you what you missed. But you have to promise to keep your emotions in check as best as you can and listen through the whole thing. If you pass out again, I'll—"

"Okay, okay. Hurry already."

So Mingyu told you everything. What he heard from outside your room after you passed out (aka your actual diagnosis), how Jeonghan stayed by your side for that full day without eating but never went back after that, and how no one, especially not Mingyu, was allowed into your room. 

"That's why I was so shocked to see you out at the kitchen," Mingyu told you. "I thought that if he didn't allow me in he definitely wouldn't allow you out."

You weren't saying anything, though you felt the prick in your gut yet again. Every time Mingyu mentioned or hinted at how Jeonghan had lied to you, you were bound to feel upset. That is a form of hurt inflicted on you by the host of hanahaki, and the flowers in you aren't going easy on you. 

"I'm guessing now," Mingyu started again, watching you carefully, "He's avoiding you on purpose so the flowers will stop harming you eventually." 

Your throat was tight. "By making me lose feelings for him?"

Mingyu nodded. 

You let out a shaky breath. You weren't angry at him; you understood what Jeonghan was trying to do for you. You understood all too well; you knew if you stopped loving him, the flowers would leave your body. But...

"He can't do that," you started, your breathing starting to feel heavy and ragged.

From the look in Mingyu's face, he understood why too. But he was more worried about something else right now.

"Y/N, I swear to God," Mingyu deadpanned, standing up and kneeling beside you to look right at you. "Listen to me. He's going to be fine. You still love him and we both know you will continue loving him no matter what his small brain does. He's fine, Y/N. But you're not going to be if you don't stop thinking he's not going to be fine because of you."

That last line hit the spot, you thought as your eyes welled with tears. Your lungs were folding in on themselves again, slowly, very slowly. 

"Y/N?" Mingyu checked one last time, but you could only look at him with crumbling eyes and shake your head. You thought you could take it. You couldn't. 

"Okay, that's it," he said, grabbing your arm and putting it over his shoulder. "Get on my back." 

You do, and he quickly brought you back to your room. He could hear how short your breaths were on the way, and he tried to talk to keep your mind off it. He knew you were dwelling on the fact that Jeonghan was putting himself at risk for you, and that's why the flowers were hurting you. 

The guards stepped forward when Mingyu approached your room door. 

"Move! Are you going to stop her from entering her own room?" Mingyu snapped. 

The guards quickly exchanged glances before stepping aside. When Mingyu entered the room, he gently laid you down on your bed and told the panicky maid (who was cleaning the room) to get the physician.

"Your Highness," said the royal guard hurriedly.

Jeonghan looked up. 

"Princess Y/N..." 

Jeonghan ran, and the guard ran behind him. He burst through your room door, eyes darting from you to the physician to Mingyu.

Your eyes were closed, all your energy focused on trying to think about happy things, but they all went one round back to thoughts of Jeonghan. You opened your eyes slightly when you heard someone enter your room. When you saw Jeonghan, you wanted to sit right up and hold him. It was weird how this is the first time you're seeing him in about 2 (or 3?) days. It felt like a whole week.

Jeonghan spoke to Ivy first, not seeming to notice that you were awake amidst the dimly-lit room. "How is she?" 

"Stable, Your Highness," she assured. "It was... triggered slightly." 

Jeonghan turned to Mingyu, his eyes hard and cold. "What. Did you do." 

You wanted to speak, to explain everything in one breath, and knock some sense into Jeonghan, but your body couldn't, not right now.

Both you and the royal physician watched as Mingyu and Jeonghan left the room. 

"I know you want to talk to him," Ivy said, patting a towel on your forehead to get rid of the cold sweat that was making strands of hair stick to your face. "But get better first. I'll try to bring him in after you've calmed down, alright?" 

You nodded, silently thanking her.

"You understand that there's no way you could've avoided it like that," Mingyu told Jeonghan. "She loves you. Do you not get it? If you keep avoiding her like that, she'll start thinking she did something wrong. She'll get hurt. How is that any different from what you're trying to prevent?"

Jeonghan was not stupid; he had thought about this scenario, but he still thought it had the best chance of protecting you. He was afraid and had made his decisions on a whim. 

"You know why she's hurting now?" Mingyu asked rhetorically. "She was worried. For you. She knew the flowers would grow in you again if you made her lose feelings. You'd be in pain. She would live at the cost of yours. You think she'd be okay with that?"

Jeonghan remained silent but never stopped looking right at Mingyu. Mingyu could tell he was getting through to him.

"Now, the best and only thing you can — and should — do is to love her and treat her as well as how much you love her. You can't keep this up. You should know better than that."  

Jeonghan hesitantly re-entered your room 30 minutes later. You immediately used whatever energy you had saved to sit up (much to Ivy's horror), which made Jeonghan rush over. 

"Lie down!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?" 

You shook your head. Your eyes were starting to water again. You reached out to hold Jeonghan's hand as he sat beside you. (Ivy quickly left the room.)

You had so much to say just a few minutes ago, but now nothing was coming out. You could only look down, holding back your tears as you focused on his hand in yours. 

"Please don't leave," was all you managed to say hoarsely. 

You didn't notice that Jeonghan was also tearing up until he sniffed, which made you look up at his face. Glossy eyes meet glossy eyes.

You frowned, the corners of your lips drooping as you cupped his face with one hand, wiping away the teardrop from his cheek with your thumb. 

"Why are you crying, dummy," you mumbled, not looking away from him.

Jeonghan managed the smallest smile. There was a pain, but also relief behind it. "I'll do better," he told you, looking down. "I just wanted to protect you." 

You held both of his hands again, not tightly but firmly. "I know, Han," you spoke gently, trying to even your breathing. "But I love you. It's not just going to go away if you leave me like that. You know I won't let it." 

Jeonghan looked at you with a small pout, his eyes gazing for a while as if in disbelief that you existed and that you were right there with him. Then he moved forward and enveloped you in a hug, the same way he did before. Your head was tilted up slightly from resting on his shoulder, and his head was rested on yours. You allowed yourself to sink into his embrace — it was getting quite draining for you to hold yourself up.

Jeonghan took in your warmth and everything else. Your smell, your soft hair slightly grazing his skin. 

"I love you, Y/N," Jeonghan whispered. "So, so much."

You were seated in the center of a wide, velvety armchair, a bouquet of flowers in your hands, and your back straightened from the relatively tight corset around your waist. It wasn't too tight that you couldn't breathe — after all, you were going to be in it for the whole day  — but it was tight enough to give you a figure you never knew you had. You looked down at your lap; at the fabric of the dress that covered you from shoulder down. It was so white that it was almost glowing, an additional layer of lace decorating the plain white foundation underneath it. The very bottom rims of the dress that formed a train on the floor were lined with gold embroidery, and so were the bodice and the rims of the sleeves. The sleeves were fitting on your upper arm but widened from your elbows down to look flowy and U-shaped. Your hair was let down in natural curls and adorned in flowers and pearls. 

The maids who were with you in the room were standing by the door, giggling in delight as murmurs were heard from outside. You smiled, laughing softly to yourself. 

Apparently, the prince himself was having a hard time coming in to get the first look at his bride. And it wasn't because anyone was stopping him; he just wasn't 'mentally prepared'. 

When he finally came in, you felt your heart thump in expectation. He was wearing a white suit with gold embroidery, a matching set with yours — with his gold culottes hanging from his shoulders. You especially liked the way his hair was styled. It wasn't too much different from the way his hair usually was. 

Jeonghan stood there for a second or two, unmoving, just staring. You felt your face heat up as you laughed and dropped your head. 

Jeonghan let out a big sigh as he tilted his head to a side and put both of his hands behind his back.

"I don't know how you still managed to exceed my highest expectation," he said, a small smile on his lips. Everyone could tell he was trying his best to maintain his composure. 

"I would say the same to you," you returned. Different from him, you were smiling at your widest. "You look dashing."

Jeonghan almost laughed in delight, a broad smile forming on his face for just a second before he smirked playfully, shrugging his shoulders. "As always." 

You jokingly grimaced as you shot him a dirty side look, everyone else laughing at the wholesome interaction.

Just then, you saw a head poke into the room from behind Jeonghan. 

"Oh, Mingyu!" 

Jeonghan turned around, then sighed. "Your timing is impeccable." 

You could see the question marks floating around Mingyu's head. "What?"

You snickered, shaking your head as you waved him over. 

"You look great," Mingyu managed, his hands placed in his pockets nonchalantly.

You narrowed your eyes. "That's the best you can do?" 

He shrugged. "Yeah." 

You scorned, kicking upwards towards Mingyu. He jumped to a side, dodging your kick, but not before one of the maids gasped and scurried to you. 

"Your Highness! Don't do that, it'll ruin the dress!" she prattled, quickly running her hands over the fabric to smooth out the wrinkles you made. You were wide-eyed, mumbling small apologies as you attempted to give her a hand. Both Jeonghan and Mingyu shot each other a look and giggled.

Jeonghan walked over to you, tracing your hairline (he usually does that to brush stray strands aside but of course there were no stray strands today). You felt your skin tingle from his touch. 

"You're absolutely gorgeous," he said with utmost sincerity, making you blush. "As you always are, my love, but just a bit more today."

Smiling and gazing, you held his hand. 3 years have passed, but you still feel your heart leap whenever Jeonghan spoke to you like that.

Mingyu watched the smile on your face, a small one tugging on his own lips. Just for today, he told himself, he won't gag at the lovey-dovey acts.

You stood in the middle of the stage in the cathedral, focusing on Jeonghan's warm brown eyes, his porcelain skin, his cherry lips that were parting to say "I do". 

"Love," he whispered in the quietest hush to knock you out of it. You notice your clammy hands in his, then noticed that the officiant had stopped talking. 

"Oh," you exclaimed softly, recollecting the only thing you had to say: "Yes. Yes, I do." 

Claps and cheers erupted as the officiant proclaimed Prince Jeonghan and Y/N husband and wife. However, they were nothing more than noise in the background as Jeonghan leaned down to touch his lips to yours.

[sp4c3-0ddity]

42 for the dialogue prompts looks fun!

uh SO this got a tiny bit out of hand at 6800 and i also posted it to ao3 as No Sky Like Home. it’s post-season eight (with some liberties taken with canon) and has a mix of angst and fluff so...enjoy!!

(42) “I’m only here to establish analibi.”

Pidge hesitated to say yes.

“I don’t think that’s…a good idea, Lance.” She shuffled the pagesin her lab notebook just for something to do with her hands, avoiding Lance’sgaze in favor of staring at one of the impeccably shiny buttons on his uniformjacket.

“Oh, that’s…okay, Pidge.” Lance scratched his ear and smiled,somehow looking both like the overconfident boy she met years ago and like themore thoughtful man he’d become. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets,further completing the picture of rakish yet upstanding Garrison officer, andwondered, “Can I ask why?”

Pidge shifted her feet and bither lip. “Well, we work together,” she said, “so I don’t think it would beappropriate.”

It was a bullshit excuse - herown parents’ marriage would contradict her - and she knew it, but he didn’t callher out on it.

But his eyebrow quirked, andthe slightest sigh that escaped him made something guilty twist in her gut. “I guess that’s for the best then,” he said.

Before he could walk past herwith a muttered goodbye, Pidge grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. “Wait, Lance,” she said, trying to smile when his eyes flicked upto her face, “we’re still…friends, right?”

“Obviously,” he said with a slight grin of his own, but his gazefell to her fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Then I’ll see you for lunch?” Pidge wondered hopefully - anythingto calm the anxious pounding of her heart.

Lance gently pulled his wristfrom her grip and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not today,” he said. “I have a lot of exams to grade. See youlater, Pidge.” He flashed her one last smile and pushed his way out of her lab.

She knew it was an excuse butdidn’t call him out. Instead she watched the door swing shut behindhim with a heaviness in her heart.

***

There were few occasions Pidgeregretted discussing her life with Matt, and this was turning into one of them.

“I never thought I’d see the day where my genius sister could besuch a dumbass.”

Pidge locked her eyes on thechessboard - she vowed to crush him for his words - and grumbled, “I thought you’d be more sympathetic.”

“Because you turned down a guy you’ve liked for years?” Matt snorted and nudged a pawn forward two spaces. “I have nosympathy for you.”

She scowled as she contemplatedher next move. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Unless I miss my guess,” Matt mused with a smirk, “you wanted to say yes.”

Pidge wondered if she imaginedthe crack in the wooden rook she pinched between her fingers. She slid itacross the board, diligently avoiding his sharp gaze, and said, “What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Why do you think that?” Matt asked, sounding more curious thanjudgmental. He raised an eyebrow and started ticking off points with hisfingers, “You’ve been friends for a long time and lived through a lot of thesame messed up stuff; you live on the same planet; you freed a cow together; youalready see each other often even outside work—”

Why did that reminder make heat shoot to Pidge’s face?

“—and I know for a fact you think he looks good in that uniformcoat.” Matt waggled his eyebrows at her, his pointed grin returning. “Hey, if Iwasn’t married, I’d want to—ow!”

A laugh burst from her whileMatt shot her a glare, rubbing his shin where her foot connected with it. Butwhen he straightened, tapping his chin as he planned his next move, he said, “If you tell me you have no feelings for him whatsoever and onlysee him as a friend, then I’ll drop it.”

Pidge, seeing a way out thougheven the lie unspoken left a bad taste in her mouth, said, “I—”

“Liar,” Matt said, brandishing hisqueen at her. “Why not go on just one date with him? See what happens fromthere.”

She sighed, her chest tight andher fingers curling into fists in her lap. “I can’t, Matt. He alreadybroke my heart once - without meaning to,” she hurriedly added before he couldcomment beyond his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “I won’t let him do thatagain.” She blinked at the chessboard, momentarily confused by the layout, andwondered, “Is it my move?”

Matt returned his queen to herplace. “It is not,” he said, “but don’t change the subject.”

Pidge crossed her arms andscowled. “I was not,” she protested, well-aware she sounded petulant. “I’mjust trying to keep up with—”

“Check,” he announced as he moved his knight into place, his smuggrin showing teeth. “But anyway, the thing that sucks about love is that you’llrisk that—”

“It’s not a worthwhile risk considering the evidence,” Pidgeretorted. She examined the board, determined to snatch her victory from thejaws of defeat, and grinned. His knight stood in a position where her queencould easily capture it.

“Did you consider all the evidence?” Matt wondered with a skeptical frown. “Sure, the past iscompelling, but what about the fact that he asked you out?”

Pidge’s eyelid twitched, a traitorous flutter in her chest at thememory, but she mumbled, “Guess who he asked out first.”

“Recently?” He crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards her,and after she didn’t respond he guessed, “Princess Allura?” When she nodded, helaughed and said, “Pidge, that was years ago, so—”

“It feels like…I don’t know.” She bit her lip, hating thatunpleasant turning of her stomach, and said, “I don’t really know how toexplain it.”

“Or you’re just overthinking things, as usual,” Matt pointed out with asigh. “Tell me what he acted like when he asked.”

Pidge tapped the tip of abishop, thinking back. “He blushed and stammered; itwas…cute.” A smile pushed at her lips, defying her will, but it fell as soon asshe recalled how crestfallen he was when she refused.

Her forehead fell to the table,chess pieces rattling, and she groaned. “I didn’t want to hurt him, butit’s just hard.”

“What is, Pidge?”

She straightened and proppedher elbow on the table, flicking one of Matt’s captured bishops until itfell over. “It’s hard to imagine he’d actually like me after someone likeAllura.”

She wasted so much time tryingto squash feelings that did her no good. Some distance helped, but then hestarted back at the Garrison, going so far as to finish up an actual piloting certification to showCommander Iverson and her he wasserious about returning to duty and joining on as a Defender, and after a fewtoo many late nights working - and goofing off or, once, reminiscing until theyheld each other and cried - together on a design for spacecraft he wouldeventually pilot, she was just as pathetically in love with him as she was atsixteen.

(The way his shoulders lookedin that damned uniform jacket didn’t hurt either.)

Matt rolled his eyes, lookingutterly unimpressed with her excuses. “Well, clearly he hasno problem imagining it,” he said, “which is why -aside from the fact that you’re into him and deserve to be happy with someonethat likes you as much as you like him - you should’ve said yes.”

“I’m perfectly happy with us being friends,” Pidge retorteddespite the guilty twist in her stomach. “Why should we shake things up if whatwe have is fine?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a scientist, Pidge? Fossil fuels are fine, so forgetrenewable energy. We can treat cancer, so why bother curing it? Oh, and withships, who needs—”

“All right, I get it!” She gripped the edge of the table, her facewarm and heart pounding with agitation, and mumbled, “It’s just different with him, okay?” And, just to tear her mindaway from the subject at hand, she picked up her queen and took Matt’s knightthat put her king in check. “Take that, by the way.”

“Hey!” Matt glared at her, tapping his chin and contemplating theboard for a few seconds before moving his surviving bishop.

A few moves later, Pidgegrinned as she announced, “Check mate.”

“That was a gutsy move,” he said, frowning down at her threateningqueen.

She crossed her arms. “Payback for last time.”

“It goes to prove something, doesn’t it?” Matt said, his mouthcurving into a slight smirk.

“What?” Pidge asked, instantly wary.

“If you get too worried about what could go wrong, you might missa chance to do something great.”

Pidge’s jaw dropped before she upended the board, scattering chesspieces over the table and floor. “Hey, using Dad’s words against me ischeating!”

Matt laughed. “I don’t think so,” he said, “and you just made a mess foryourself.” He stood and added, “Make sure you count all the pieces this time;we don’t want a repeat of last time when a knight clogged the vacuum.”

Pidge gnashed her teeth as shewatched him leave and wondered if older brothers ever stopped beinginfuriating.

***

Lunch proved lonely with Lanceavoiding Pidge, despite the presence of other coworkers. She had to force herlaughter at Nadia’s jokes and only half-listened to Ryan reluctantlyrecount the last disastrous blind date James set him up on.

With an invisible handsqueezing her heart so tightly and with memories of her last innocuousinteraction with Lance - a late dinner at the Denny’s in Plaht City that somehow still stood after a full-scalealien invasion - playing in her head, she didn’t properly tune into theconversation until someone spoke her name.

Nadia waved her hand in frontof Pidge’s face. “Anyone there? Or did someone flip your power switchwithout us noticing?”

“Ha ha,” Pidge said without bothering to conceal her irritation.She tore at the bread on her peanut butter sandwich, face warming under theirscrutiny. “You can carry on talking about Ryan’s hopeless love life without me.”

“Well, why don’t we talk about yours instead?” Nadia saidbrightly, her teeth flashing menacingly. “So…where’s your loverboy today?”

Pidge stared at her; it’d been a long time since she heard anyonecall Lance a loverboy, and as far asshe knew - and ascertained thanks to all the scientific inaccuracies she could not have anyone from the Garrisonhearing her spout - no version of The Voltron Show ever made it to Earth. “My…what?” she said, deciding it would be best to play dumb.

“I think she means Lance,” Ina supplied helpfully.

“Lance told me he was eating lunch with Veronica today,” Jamesoffered with a shrug. “He said it was her birthday?”

Pidge’s stomach turned with nausea, what little appetite she haddiminishing. “Veronica’s birthday was three months ago,” she said.

“Why would he lie?” Ryan wondered. To her, he didn’t lookparticularly interested in an answer, but she guessed he preferred to deflectthe attention off himself and onto her.

Traitor.

“I don’t know,” Pidge lied, wincing at the waver in her words.Then, before any of them could comment on it, she shoved her half-eatensandwich back into its bag and packed up her lunch. “I have an experiment toprepare ahead of my next class.”

“Do you want—”

“No, thank you, Ina,” she said. She forced a smile onto her faceas she stood before fleeing the mess.

Pidge had no real destinationin mind. She could head to her lab,but it would be all too easy for Matt - he had an uncanny ability for detectingGarrison gossip before it really turned into indistinct rumor - to find herthere. Instead she wandered the halls of the main building, barely payinganyone she passed - even the odd cadets that greeted her - any attention.

Lance going so far as to avoidher during lunch once hurt enough, but for almost a whole week was insufferable.

Maybe that was why she foundherself at the entrance to one of the smaller hangars, where she knew he’d be with his next flight class.

He stood at the head of a smallgroup of adolescent Defender cadets - both human and alien - gesturing wildlyat a prototype craft.

Pidge paused for a moment justwatching him with his students. He’d left the top button of hisuniform jacket undone, a hint of white shirt collar peeking out, and his hairstood on end as if he’d frequently run his fingers through it. Her breathcaught picturing it - and picturing her own fingers threading through thestrands and feeling for herself how soft they were.

Lance lectured animatedly andas if the craft was his co-teacher, supervising the cadets as they took turns climbinginto the cockpit which…was technically not allowed.

And that was her prototype, so she decided to put astop to it.

She marched through the line ofwaiting students with her heart racing, ignoring Lance’s widening, almost panicked eyes, and demanded, “What are youdoing, Lance?”

“Uh…showing my students the inside of one of the craft they’ll oneday fly,” he replied, the confident grin he flashed her - how was it fair thatit filled her chest with warmth and set her almost at ease? - belying theembarrassed flush in his cheeks.

“They won’t fly this one,” Pidge reminded him with a glare. “It’sjust a prototype; only a test pilot can fly it.”

“Lucky I’m in the running to be one of those, right?”

“What does that have to do with your cadets?” she wondered,raising a skeptical eyebrow. She shifted in place, suddenly self-conscious thatthey spoke - argued, really - in the view of about fifteen junior cadets, butmade sure to meet his gaze.

Lance didn’t falter. “Isn’t it important they at least understand theprocess and technology that goes into building the Defenders’ spacecraft?”

“It—” Pidge cut herself off with a grimace, resenting the logic inhis argument; damn him, he spent too much time around her.

And Lance, judging by the smirkcurling his lips, knew he’d won.

Pidge wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss or smack it off. “Lance,” she said, her tone low in warning, “it’s still againstthe rules.”

He crossed his arms andfrowned, looking annoyed for the first time during this confrontation. “You’re one to talk,” he retorted. “Did you forget how we met?”

Pidge’s jaw dropped, heat flooding her face as every single cadet’sgaze snapped to her. “Th-that’s not—how is that relevant?” she stuttered.

Lance shrugged, lookingunbothered except for the way he tugged at the hem of his jacket. “Kind of hypocritical of you then, wouldn’t you say, Pidge?”

Her eyes narrowed, her heartjumping into her throat as she cycled through every possible response becausehe was right. They’d both been rule-breakers - though as far as she knew he’d neveractually broken the law until they freed Shiro - so really—

“One date,” Pidge muttered.

—it was just one more insanething they had in common.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “What? I didn’t hear—”

“One date,” she said louder, making sure to meet his blue eyes asthey widened.

“R-really? You’re changing your mind now?”

Pidge crossed her arms andpretended her heart didn’t hammer almost painfullyagainst her ribs. “Is that a problem, Lance?”

“Not at all.” He didn’t seem aware of their audience, hisstartlingly intent gaze only on her and enough to fill her with heat. “Tomorrownight we’ll head out from here? I have something planned.”

“O-okay,” Pidge agreed. A grin tugged at her lips, and she refusedto fight it. “We’ll see how it goes then.”

“We will,” he said, and the dazzling smile blooming on his facemade the anxious churning in her gut worthwhile.

***

Pidge barely made it to hernext class in time before the bell.

Naturally, the news that theircoding teacher had a date with their flight instructor beat her.

(She already knew to blameMatt.)

***

Pidge refused to agonize overwhat to wear (not like she did with any of the handful of other dates - whichranged in quality from decent to disastrous - Matt or Nadia set her up on),mostly because Lance barged into her lab before their work day even ended.

She’d scarcely shut down her active equipment, reaching to startunbuttoning her lab coat, when her door opened so fast it bounced off thedoorstop with a bang.

Pidge spun around, heartjumping into her throat and hand reaching for the bayard she kept hidden underthe sink - she worked in a rather sensitiveenvironment - before she registered Lance standing in the doorway. “What the quiznak, Lance?” she demanded. “You scared me!”

“Sorry!” He raised his hands, a sheepish smile on his face, andsaid, “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get too absorbed by aproject and forget all about our date.”

Her eyes narrowed, unimpressedwith his excuse, but she hung up her lab coat and grabbed her bag beforefollowing him into the hallway. “So what are we doing tonight?”she wondered, pretending to focus on locking up her lab rather than on theanxious flutter in her chest.

(She had to surreptitiouslywipe her sweaty hand on her pants when the security scanner failed to recognizeher prints.)

Lance flashed her a grin that,unless she missed her guess, held an edge of nervousness. “It’s a surprise,” he said, “but I think you’ll like it.”

“The arcade?” Pidge guessed when the alarm panel’s red indicatorlight finally activated.

“Nope,” Lance said. He stuffed his hands into his pockets andnodded for her to follow.

They passed other Garrisonscientists - some also leaving after a day of work and others taking a breakbefore returning to pressing assignments - on their way out. Even her motherspotted them - and oh, quiznak, she never told her parents so they probablylearned thanks to the Garrison’s irritatingly efficient rumormill - on her way to the greenhouses, her eyes widening in surprise before sheshot them a wink and said, “Don’t be out too late.”

Pidge made sure her mother wasout of sight when she scowled and grumbled, “I’m going to kill Matt.”

Lance laughed, his cheeks darkwith embarrassment when she dared a glance at him, and joked, “Then you’d be wasting all your hard lawbreaking as a cadet.”

Pidge bit her lip, fighting agrudging smile.

They entered the officerparking lot, passing Pidge’s small car and heading for—

“This isn’t your car,” she said, her eyes popping at the sight ofthe red hoverbike parked in his spot.

“It’s not,” he admitted, shrugging. “Keith gave it to me forsafekeeping.”

“And he’s letting you take it for a spin?” Pidge raised an eyebrowat him, skeptical. “Or is this another Lion swapping scenario?”

Lance flushed, avoiding hereyes and rubbing the back of his neck, and grumbled, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him…”

“Better not crash then,” she joked, before sobering and adding, “You’dbetter not crash!”

Lance chuckled and nudged herin the side with his elbow. “Please, Pidge. If I can flyone of your crazy prototypes, I can drive Keith’s trashy hoverbike.”

“My prototypes are not crazy,” Pidge retorted.

“The last one had too much thrust,” Lance complained. “It feltlike flying the Red Lion again!”

“And that’s a…bad thing?”

Lance’s jaw flapped uselessly under her scrutiny before he exhaled in ahuff and said, “It’s fun but I also don’t want to crash while I’m still gettinga hang of how to handle it. We can’t all be naturals.”

Like Keith, he left unspoken…or so she guessed. She fidgeted with the strap on her bag,suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took - did that oldwound still bother Lance? - until he added, “Unlike Keith, I brought helmets.”

Pidge slid the bulky helmet heoffered her onto her head, her trembling fingers fumbling with the straps untilhe took pity on her and secured it for her. From this close, she could see herreflection in his eyes and wondered that, if not for the helmet, if his breathwould fall against her forehead.

But with those blue marks insuch easy view…

Lance smirked, patting herhelmeted head, and said, “Your genius brain is now safeand sound.”

“I’ve known you for years,” Pidge said, glancing past him at thehoverbike, “so who exactly are you trying to impress with that?”

“Huh?” Lance stepped away from her - she wished she had thecourage to tug him back - and put on his own helmet. “Maybe I want to impressyou anyway.”

The admission made her breathcatch - he really needed to stopdoing that before she forgot why she was so hesitant! - but she said, “There are better ways to do that than with driving into thesunset on a hoverbike.”

Lance shrugged. “Well, I can’t recite the digits of pi or solve complicatedquantum physics equations—”

“If you could, it wouldn’t impress me because I already knowplenty of people who can.”

Lance’s lips parted - in surprise, she thought - before he cleared histhroat and confessed, “The hoverbike’s better for going into the desert sincethe roads haven’t been fixed since the invasion.”

Pidge smirked. “The desert, you say? Are we off to find the Blue Lion’s cave?”

Lance laughed as he climbedonto the hoverbike, patting the spot behind him. “You’ll see.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow - sothat was one more possible destination eliminated - but clambered on behindhim. She considered where to place her hands as he turned on the engine and theboosters kicked into gear before deciding against overthinking every littlething and choosing to be as tactile with him as she wanted.

It wasn’t even that unusual with them, though thanks tothe idea that they were explicitly on a date,the thought of wrapping her arms around his waist even just to hold onto himbrought heat rushing to her face like she was a silly schoolgirl with a crush.

(Which…was never far removed from reality where Lance was concerned.)

But Pidge did it anyway, herarms secure and her cheek - or her helmet, really - pressed against his back.

“Hold tight,” Lance warned her. “I’m still not sure I can drivethis thing.”

“We rode a cow to escape a Galra mall cop,” Pidge reminded himdespite her own apprehension. “We’ll be—”

He revved the engine and zippedout of the parking lot, the wind whipping at her loose clothes and stinging hercheeks. Her eyes pinched shut against the dust stirred up by their privatetempest.

Hoverbikes handled smootherthan classic motorcycles but required more control from their operators. Anddespite its age, Keith’s hoverbike was in good repair thanks to a lovingowner.

And Lance proved adept athandling it…for the most part.

Her heart skipped a beat whenhe banked sharply onto a road with a gated entrance branching from the mainhighway, ignoring the sign that read, GovernmentProperty, No Trespassing. Her arms tightened around him - she trusted himwith her life but wasn’t sure she wanted him to test that trust on theirfirst date - as the boosters stuttered, adjusting to the sudden change in speedas Lance navigated the dilapidated road.

At the lower speed, Pidgejoked, “Are you taking me to Area Fifty-One?”

She felt more than heard Lance’s laughter, his back rumbling against her chest and bringing asmile to her own face. “We literally fought an intergalactic war againstaliens, so what’s so special about Area Fifty-One?”

“Plus we’re kind of in the wrong state for that,” Pidge pointedout. “How far are we heading out anyway?”

It darkened the longer theytraveled, the sun dipping below the horizon and painting the sky in streaks ofred and pink. The full moon rose opposite, and between its intense white lightand the hoverbike’s headlamp, the desert was still navigable.

Lance drove them up a windingdirt path, a canyon below them hidden in shadow. At the sharp change inincline, a flicker of familiarity hit Pidge, but she bit her lip and kept it toherself, too wary of being wrong - and crushingly disappointed - to speak herhope aloud.

The terrain flattened out, anda silhouetted structure rose ahead of them at the edge of the cliff overlookingthe canyon and a blanket of stars. The sight of the telltale dome made Pidge’s breath catch, and her grip on Lance tightened even as he slowedthe hoverbike to a stop.

“Well,” Lance said, deactivating the boosters and shutting off thehoverbike’s engine, “we’re here.”

“The old observatory?” Pidge slid off the hoverbike, fumbling withthe straps securing her helmet before pushing it off and setting it on herseat. Her feet moved almost against her will, drifting over uneven and stonyground towards the building she spent many a midnight staring into the universethrough the massive telescope with her father. It was one of the GalaxyGarrison’s first stations, converted into a museum a few years before Matt wasborn.

“So…?” She jumped, startled from her stunned reverie, when Lance’shand found hers. “Did I mess up?” he wondered, hesitant.

Pidge shook her head, desperateto allay his uncertainty, but dammit that lump in her throat shouldn’t be there while she was on a date with him. “N-no, it’s…I just haven’t been back here since before the Kerberosmission launch.”

Lance chuckled, and it broughta grin to her face when he squeezed her fingers. “Guess that’s another thing wehave in common, huh?”

“You’ve been here before too?” Pidge turned to him, her eyes wide.

“Just a couple times,” he said. “First time was when my wholefamily visited Veronica while she was a cadet, and the second time was thefield trip in flight school.”

“Oh, I…forgot you would’ve gone on that.” She tugged on the hem ofher dusty uniform jacket, smiling sheepishly. “I guess I missed that.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Guess you did.” He turned back to the hoverbike and rifledthrough one of the saddlebags hanging off the side before extracting aflashlight. “Care to explore with me and check out what’s changed?”

Pidge grinned. “Gladly.”

She followed him to theobservatory, ducking below the gleaming yellow caution tape blocking the mainentrance. Lance flicked on the flashlight, angling it around to illuminate thehigh domed ceiling’s design - a mural of the night sky, the zodiacalong the bottom of the hemisphere, with a model of their own solar systemdangling from the center.

“Venus is missing,” Lance observed in a low voice thatnevertheless echoed through the cavernous room.

Pidge led him deeper into theobservatory, past crumbling and dusty exhibits depicting the formation of starsin nebulae and their deaths as supernovas, towards the planetarium. She climbedthe stairs up towards the back room while Lance shined the beam on the switchesand dials that controlled the lights and rotating ceiling.

“There’s no power, Pidge,” he pointed out unhelpfully.

“I know,” she said, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I lostcount of the number of shows I watched here…”

They returned to the main hallof exhibits with velvet ropes partitioning them from the path, only…all the old spacecraft - all the rovers and modules - that wereonce on display no longer stood there, nothing left behind but the plaquesexplaining what role they played in the history of space travel andexploration.

“Where is everything?” Lance wondered. He jerked the flashlightaround, its beam flickering rapidly enough that Pidge’s head spun if she triedto follow it too closely, as if that would conjure up everything missing.

“I don’t know,” Pidge admitted, “but I think I can guess.”

“What?”

“I wonder if it was all salvaged for parts during the invasion,”she mused while her gut twisted with guilt…and not a little bit of remorse thatshe got so caught up in rebuilding Earth and the Defenders project that shenever returned here before now.

She hated seeing something sheloved so much reduced to so little.

She turned to head back to theentrance, but Lance’s hand on her shoulder gave her pause.

“Don’t you want to see if the telescope is still there?” hewondered.

“I doubt it will be,” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s just go.I’m…guessing you had something else planned?”

“Yeah.” Lance fell into step beside her, but the ensuing silenceweighed heavy until they emerged from the decrepit observatory and he said, “I’msorry, Pidge. I didn’t know it would be like…that.”

“I know,” she said. “I…” She smiled, more for his benefit than forhers because what he did was thoughtful and touched her no matter howseeing it like this pained her, and said, “I probably should’ve expectedit. Nothing’s really the same from when we left, right?”

“Maybe not, but peanut butter hasn’t changed.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him,confused by the change in subject, as he led her back to the hoverbike. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Lance grinned, pulling a foldedblanket and a lunch box from a saddlebag and heading down a path. She followeduntil they paused near the edge of the cliff overlooking the shadowed canyonwith the observatory behind them.

She helped Lance spread theblanket and sat beside him while he dug through the lunch box and pulled out afew foil-wrapped sandwiches. “Sorry about the simple dinner,”he said, passing her one to the embarrassing chorus of her rumbling belly. “Iactually took Allura to meet my family on our first, but you already know themand I…wanted our date to be something special.”

Pidge gripped herhalf-unwrapped sandwich a little tighter, shoulders tensing involuntarily atthe mention. She avoided looking too closely at his face lest she see thatirresistible reminder and instead commented, “It didn’t have to be.” Shesmiled, an inexplicable warmth in her chest staving off the chill of a desertevening in autumn. “I just like spending time with you.”

“You do?” Lance glanced at her, his eyes wide and…why did he haveto look so surprised by that?

“Obviously,” Pidge said. “I’m on a date with you, so I must,right?”

“Then…why did you say no at first?”

Pidge’s eyes shot open, and she took a huge bite out of her sandwich -peanut butter and blackberry jelly, her favorite - in lieu of thinking ofsomething to say. After swallowing, she sipped from the juice box Lance handedher before saying, “C-can I tell you why I changed my mind instead?”

He met her eyes, a spark ofeagerness in his gaze and his sandwich lying abandoned on the blanket. “Yeah?”

Pidge leaned towards him andwhispered conspiratorially, “I’m only here to establish analibi.”

Lance blinked at her once,twice, three times before she couldn’t fight her laughter anymore.She doubled over, clutching at her stomach while giggles burst from her, onlylaughing harder when Lance rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Ha ha, Pidge…though Iwouldn’t put it past you.”

Eventually, he cracked a smile,and her laughter abated, leaving her breathless with ribs pleasantly sore and asingle tear at the corner of her eye. She wiped it away and rested a hand onLance’s arm before admitting, “I think an alibi is useless when you andI were just trespassing on closed off property.”

“So…what are you getting at?”

Pidge inhaled, her eyesslipping shut as she toyed with one of the buttons on her uniform jacket. “I…like you, Lance,” she confessed while her stomach twisted intomiserable knots. “When you asked me out it felt like a pipe dream come truesince I never thought you’d look twice at me after…” She trailed off, crackingher eyes open to see Lance openly gaping at her.

“But you said no first,” he said, clearing his throat.

Pidge nodded. “And I don’t regret changing my mind.” Yet.

Lance smiled and took her hand,interlacing their fingers. It made something in her chest unravel, a few morethreads of anxiety loosened. “Does this mean you’re havingfun with me?”

Pidge bit her lip - and bitback the ironic joke that rose to her mind. “With you? Easily aside fromthe literal and figurative bumps, but I’d have fun with you at the arcade likewe always do too.”

“Then as long as we’re having fun, what’s wrong with doingsomething special?” Lance demanded.

Pidge stared past him, up atthe night sky, before reaching over and flicking off the flashlight. “Well, for one it’s not a good night for stargazing.” She pointedat the moon overhead bathing them in a white light. “We should’ve done thisduring a new moon, not while there’s a full moon out.”

Lance frowned at her. “You just said you like spending time with me.”

“And? You also left the flashlight on, which is just more lightpollution.”

“So why does it matter if the moon is full or not?” Lancewondered.

“So we can properly do one of the activities we came here for?”Pidge suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him. “We are partly here to stargaze,right?” When Lance only stared at her, his eyes wide and incredulous,heat rushed to her face and she stammered, “W-what? Why are you looking at melike that?”

Lance’s gaze softened, a fond smile gracing his face and doingsomething to her insides before he laughed. “You’re unbelievable, Pidge.”

“All the amazing things we’ve seen, and I’munbelievable?” Pidge scoffed, trying to deflect though that awful, doting lookhe was giving her made it impossible.

“Well,” Lance said, leaning back until he lay down and gazed up, “allthat amazing stuff, and there’s still nothing like the night sky from Earth.”

“The moon is a filthy light polluter,” Pidge mumbled before she quitoverthinking and lay down beside him. But she kept some distance between themthough his heat was a tantalizing presence that almost lured her closer.

The silence held for a littlewhile, broken only by Pidge tracing old, familiar constellations and Lancepointing out “new” ones.

“That’s the Paladin,” he said, his hand raised and fingertipdrawing two trapezoids in the sky.

“That’s Orion, you goofball,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes.

“No, it’s not,” Lance said. His elbow dug into her arm. “I’mrenaming it right now; the ancient Greeks aren’t here to say I can’t.”

Pidge chuckled, but when abreeze blew over them, stirring up the desert shrubs and making her shiver, shegave into temptation and scooted closer to him and the warmth he emanated.

“Then that over there is Rover,” she said, shaping a trianglebetween three bright stars.

Lance traced a jagged line fromfive stars and offered, “And that’s the Blade.”

“And there’s the Juniberry.” Pidge pointed at a cluster of starsthat vaguely resembled a flower. “And beside it is…the Princess.”

(Well, it was really Andromeda,but in the myth she was a princess sacrificed for her people too - but unlike their princess, she survived.)

“Lance,” Pidge said, cutting into their constellation hunting. Sheswallowed, her mouth dry and clumsy to shape the words, but she managed to say,“I told you why I changed my mind, but…I should tell you why I said no first.”

Lance sat up, for which she wasgrateful; she wasn’t sure she could speak to him about something so painfulwhile in a more…intimate position. She mirrored him, her legs crossed and herhands in her lap, and inhaled to calm her pounding heart.

“Pidge?” he prompted when the silence grew too long, too thick.

Well, time to pour her heartout and hope it wouldn’t bite her in the ass.

“I’ve had some kind of…feelings for you for a while,” sheexplained, careful to meet his eyes despite their proximity to the markingsomeone else - one of her best friends - left on his face. “I think I’ve likedyou - on and off sometimes - almost as long as I’ve known you.” She wrung thehem of her jacket, her embarrassment keeping her warm against the cold judgingby her sweaty armpits.

Lance’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that, Pidge. I’m sorry; maybe if Ihad—”

She shook her head, swallowingaround an irritating lump in her throat, and wondered, “Would it have changed anything if I told you? Maybe I’m not now,but I always would’ve been your second choice, and Allura was my friend too andI miss her so muchbut I can’t help thinking that you’ll always be comparing me to—”

Lance’s warm hands framing her face cut her off, her eyes flying wideas she stared up at him. “You can’t compare, Pidge.”

Her chest tightened, facecrumpling against her will and so quickly.“Th-that’s what I—”

“You’re a completely different person,” Lance reminded her. Thetip of his thumb slid under her eye, brushing away a tear she hadn’t realizedshe shed, before he let go.

When he pulled away, Pidgereleased a breath, but she couldn’t be relieved yet. “What doyou mean?” she wondered.

“I loved her and I miss her too,” Lance explained with a softsmile, “but it’s still…different with you, Pidge.” His intent gaze fell on her,and for once Pidge cared not a whit for the blue markings on his cheeks; theywere a part of him as much as his eyes or a quiznaking belly button. “Beingwith you is as easy as breathing…or, well, sometimes easier and sometimesharder.”

Pidge smiled unwittingly. “I guess it averages out then.”

Lance chuckled. “You would see it like that, but…” His hand found hers again, andthis time she didn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers. “I don’t just wantone date with you, Pidge.”

Her breath caught but she said,“I…know that now, but are you sure?” A sigh escaped her, herfingers tightening around his, and she admitted, “I don’t want to let you hurtme again.”

“I don’t want that either,” he said. “I want…can I tell you what Iwant?” When Pidge nodded, finding it difficult to speak at the moment, hecontinued, “I want a lot of dates with you, and a lot of that time in between,and to”—his hand squeezed hers—”hold your hand whenever I want…whenever you’lllet me.”

“O-oh,” Pidge said, because it was all she could with it so hardto breathe.

“And I still want to do all the stuff we do as friends but…I wantmore with you, like you visiting the farm and Kaltenecker with me and spendingholidays with each other’s families and us going to team reunions together.” Hesmiled, something a touch hopeful and a touch apprehensive in it. “I want that,if you want it too.”

“Lance, I…” Pidge exhaled in a huff, trying to regain some levelof words withher skin so warm and her heart racing. “I want that,” she muttered,hoping to speak it into existence. “I want all of that with you.”

Lance’s grin widened, something so broad she wondered if his cheekswould be sore later, but it lightened her chest to see it…especially from soclose.

His hand cupped her cheek,breath warm on her face as he all but whispered, “Can I—”

“Yeah,” she said, somehow already breathless.

Lance kissed her softly,tilting her head back to capture her lips with his, while her hands gripped atthe front of his jacket. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, head spinningwith incredulity that this couldhappen, as his fingers slid into her hair and pulled her closer.

A sigh escaped Pidge when hisnose brushed hers, and she pulled back, her eyes fluttering open to meet his -a vivid blue even illuminated only by the full moon and a sky scattered withstars - and her breath short. A smile split her face as his forehead restedagainst hers, his own shallow breaths blooming across her skin.

“So, Katie…does this mean I can take you on a second date?” Lanceasked.

Pidge laughed - as stunned asshe was pleased when he spoke her real name - and reached up to run her fingersthrough his hair, if only because she could. “As long as you survive for it,”she teased. When his brow furrowed in confusion, she kissed the corner of hismouth and said, “There’s no telling how Keith will react when he finds out you borrowed his hoverbike.”