#michael berzatto x platonic!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

etherealising · 1 year

Text

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fic #michael berzatto #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto angst #platonic!michael berzatto #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 1

2K notes · View notes

periprose · 1 year

Text

Fly Away

Michael Berzatto x Reader

You're a family friend of the Berzattos and you're invited to have fun at their annual Christmas dinner. You think you still harbor feelings for Carmy, but as the evening progresses, you feel something for his brother.

Genre: friends to lovers, former crush on carm, really everything w carm is mostly platonic, unrequited stuff, insecurities, age gaps (reader and carm are 25, Michael is 38), takes place in 2017, takes place in S2E6, lots of angst, anxiety, some fluff, no use of y/n (you have a nickname: Birdie)

Word count: 11k

There’s a bauble and trinket everywhere you look. Festive, Christmas spirit seems to ebb from the very walls of the Berzatto household– and you would be remiss not to compliment it vocally in some way.

Donna is clearly waiting, teetering on a response from you as you take everything in from the front door. And you know how she reacts if you don’t say things in that perfect, supportive tone that she so desperately thrives off of.

“Wow, Mrs. Berzatto!” You clasp your hands, trying not to seem too cloying or ironic. “I love what you’ve done with the house. Such an eye for details.”

“Oh, stop.” She giggles, and lightly taps your shoulder as she takes your coat and hangs it up in the closet.

“No, really. I wish my house was so… Christmassy this time of year.” You shrug, knowing that your dad isn’t the festive type after divorcing your mother.

“Aw. Well, we have love to spread here.” It’s a strange unseen sympathy coming from Donna, and she pulls you inside, and you take off your shoes, shuffling around in your socks and your comfy, hopefully chic, green loose turtleneck sweater. “Except you might have to wait a bit, because some of these fuckers are late.”

There’s that bitter tone you remember from Donna. You don’t really care for that– you tend to have an avoidant personality especially with how your own mother acts sometimes– and she yells out for Carmy and Mikey to greet you.

“Boys! Birdie’s here!” She calls from the stairs, and you suddenly feel self conscious.

Ever since your dad, a former co-worker and friend of Cicero’s, starting taking you as a teenager to these Berzatto hangouts, you have always had a eye for Carmen. It was hard not to be, seeing this bashful, slightly angry, awkward boy, around the same age as you, with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You felt like sometimes, he really, really listened to you, and that was all you needed.

You wish you could be there for him too.

It’s something you’ve never acted on, never bothered to actually approach him about– he always seemed so absorbed by his own thing.

You relished in the fact that he never had a girlfriend. You felt secure in that, because he just seemed safe. And it’s not like he would’ve been mean about rejecting you if he knew– you were always close to the Berzatto siblings. You were Bear and Birdie, ready to head out on a walk together, while the adults gossiped and drank.

Of course, you haven’t seen him in about… two years now. Around after he left to his apartment, and did his chef-education-training (you’re a bit vague on the details, honestly), and ever since then, as far as you know he’s slowly been doing what he loves. He does text you from time to time, but you’d be overstating those texts’ importance if you pretended it really quantified a relationship.

Mikey clambers down the stairs, wearing what looks to be pajamas, or very chill homebody clothes, and he raises his arm in a big, Italian gesture.

“Oh! Is that little Bird I see?” He exclaims, and pulls you into an eager hug. Maybe a little too eager– you think it’s almost as if you’re comforting him as you hug him back, his face coming down onto your shoulder, as he encapsulates you– and he pulls away, grinning.

He actually looks really good. You don’t know when you started thinking that Mikey was good looking, but it’s true– he has a certain, rough around the edges appeal that you find yourself drawn to.

“Merry Christmas. You’ve been keeping away from us.” Mikey points as you, intended as a stern remark, but you snort.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ve been busy with work and law school, Michael. I’m not a kid anymore.” You resist the urge to comment on his beard, and then do it anyways. “Are you sure I’ve been keeping away? You’re the one with a hermit-ass beard.”

“Oh… they grow up and just start taking shots at you, don’t they, Ma?” Mikey places his hand over his heart, as if he’s wounded, and Donna shakes her head in agreement, before heading back to the kitchen, already seeming annoyed about something. “Beards are fashionable in 2017, Bird. Maybe come back to our current time– no reason for you to start dressing like a grandma already.”

You scoff at that, pointing at your sweater. “It’s semi-formal, c’mon! It looks nice. Respect the gathering’s rules.”

“It’s my house, babe.” Mikey leans in with maybe a little too much comfort, his eyes shining with some warmth, mirth even, and you don’t exactly pull away– the guy is like thirteen years older than you, and even if he does kid around, play up an older brother thing, you’ve started feeling like he’s restraining something more as of late, maybe some primal level of attraction that he knows better than to mess around with. You know that the feeling is kind of mutual– but you really don’t know how to quantify it. “I’m man of the house, and I say you should wear something that maybe, uh, shows off the pretty twenty-five year old that you are.”

The last part of this sentence has you swallowing a little, and you feel your face turning warm, and Mikey himself looks embarrassed that he’s said it, that he’s given a bit of evidence to your theories– he seems to brush something off, inside himself.

You have never thought you were all that. You’ve always been pretty sure you should be glad that you’ve gotten by without having to worry about your looks. The idea of wearing a nice, somewhat revealing dress to the Berzattos’ house has you cringing, because you know it would just be… bad.

“I’m not–” Mikey scowls at himself and you can visibly see himself fighting something, looking a little anxious, and you tentatively grasp his forearm.

“I know what you mean. I’m not offended.” You smile slightly, making the effort to calm him down a little, because you would never want Michael to beat himself up over you (he really seems to do that as of late and you know you’re not worth the trouble), and he nods and inhales. “You look good, too.”

“Right. Right on, Birdie. You can do what you want, anyways. Not up to me.” He seems to really dial back some of what he said, and before you can respond, Carmy walks downstairs.

“Hi. Hey, Birdie. Merry Christmas.” He says, kind of quietly, and you find yourself somewhat happy to hear him say your nickname again. Carmy looks especially nice– deep blue has always been his colour, it brightens up his eyes– and he has slightly longer hair than you remember.

He leans in for a brief but firm hug, and glances at your eyes once, before looking towards the floor again.

Mikey nods and proceeds to exit to the kitchen, and you’re left with Carmy grappling with what to say.

“How have you–”

“How’s law sch–”

Carmy coughs awkwardly, and you find your face turning warm as he looks towards you.

“Sorry, Bear.” You let him speak, hoping not to scare him away. “How’s everything? You okay?”

“Yeah. Uh… well, I’ve been training at Copenhagen?” He furrows his brows, runs his hand through his hair. “Just learning as much as I can.”

“Oh. Uh-huh.” Your curiosity is piqued– you didn’t know he was in Denmark, much to your disappointment– but you want to pry more of an answer out of him. He doesn’t seem interested in talking about it more than that.

“Sorry. Sorry. Stupid answer, there’s just not much to say.” Carmy shrugs, and then realizes suddenly that you’ve been standing at the foyer of the house for quite some time now, which isn’t very polite or inviting of him. “Wait, hold on. Let’s go sit inside and talk.”

Carmy makes some offhand comment about how you need to speak up sometimes and stop being so nice and accommodating to idiots like him, and you snicker, knowing that this is the Carmy you remember– snarky, ready to fight people on sometimes, even if he is a little weird and bashful. Although he’s short– he makes up for it with his resilience.

Carmy leads you through golden-lit hallways, a certain pepperminty, pine tree scent seeming to overlay the entire house, and there’s bushels and wreathes and mistletoe everywhere, and somehow even more baubles, ornaments, trinkets, knickknacks, all gold and red and warm tones that do make you feel a little fuzzy.

Carmy sits you down in the living room, on the sofa, and you’re next to him, and you place a foot under your knee, trying to feel casual. Not freaking out about him sitting right next to you. Weirdly enough… you don’t think you feel anything anxiety inducing.

Perhaps you’re just getting more reassured of yourself with age.

“So? How is Copenhagen, otherwise? I know Denmark is really interesting, but you’re probably busy with chef stuff, huh?” You prod just a little further. Just out of your own personal curiosity to see how far Carmy will go for you, and he nods. “Any friends?”

“Ah…” Carmy winces a little. “Can’t say if he’s a friend yet, but there is this guy that’s out of this world with pastries. I don’t know if I can meet his standard on that.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “Bear, you make my dad cookies all the time. Or, well, you used to. You can’t be that bad at it, considering that he always eats all of them.”

“Oh, really? Fuck, man.” Carmy looks at you in disbelief, settling more into his corner of the couch, closer to the tree, but looking more openly at you. You feel yourself cower a little under his watchful gaze. “I didn’t know your dad enjoyed them that much… I would’ve made more. Did you ever try them?”

“Hm?” You were getting lost in the details around Carmy– the dark blue shirt, the little bits of stubble around his jaw, the tattoos peeping out from under his long sleeves– and you nod. “Ah, I tried a batch around the last time you gave him some. I think it was… macadamia, matcha, white chocolate? Really good.”

Carmy is unreadable, his eyes flickering from the ground to your eyes– you think maybe you’ve embarrassed him a little– but he thanks you. “Where is your dad, anyways?”

“Ah. He’s got the flu, and he was kind enough to not want to infect you guys.” You admit. “Even though he was trying his best to walk over here from our house.”

Carmy remembers that you live in the neighbourhood over. You two used to hang out a lot during elementary and high school. He kind of missed you– something he’d never say out loud, but Carmy knows friends are few with him, and you were always a good friend to him growing up. You were always a comforting presence for him– you never asked him for too much, and he could tell you were being careful to do so. No pressure.

You just became really busy with law school, and he became really busy with chef stuff, and now you’re both… you both just lost touch. He feels bad about it– bad like he always does, with former friends and acquaintances from high school that he’s accidentally ghosted and lost– but at least you don’t seem to be annoyed about it.

He thinks it’s probably because in this case, you pulled away just as much as he had to.

“How’s law school, anyways?” Carmy counts the years in his head. “You’ve either just finished or you’re in your final year?”

“I’m in my final year.” You stretch out your arms, looking eager. “It’s a lot of work– I’m only here because I’m lucky enough to have a bit of a break in the winter months, and I’m ahead on my courses. But, uh… I don’t know. It’s fun.”

“Fun? Wow.” Carmy grins a little.

“What?”

“I don’t know, Birdie. Fun is more… fucking, I don’t know, fireworks or something? Drugs, maybe, yeah.” Carmy watches as you laugh, and laugh, at what he’s said, and again he’s never really sure what’s so funny about what he’s said, but he likes to hear you laugh.

“Clearly you don’t know either.” You snort, and lightly punch his arm. “When did we become workaholics?”

“Probably when we became, uh, adults and entered the workforce.” Carmy states, and you wrinkle your brows.

“We’re not really in the workforce yet, but–”

“What, really? C’mon. You’re a fucking receptionist or some shit, right?”

“Business administration specialist.”

“Yeah, there you go. That’s work, especially with all the school you have to do.” Carmy shrugs. “But what do you really want to be, then?”

“Oh, we getting into dreams, then?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you cared that much, Bear.”

Carmy, for some reason he can’t detect, turns a little red. “No, of course I do. We’re still friends, right?”

“Acquaintances.”

“For real?” Carmy looks back at you, affronted, but you have a little smile and he knows you’re teasing. “Oh fuck you. Stop it.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You shake your head, giggling a little, glad to have so easily fallen back into a comfortable, friendly banter. “Of course we’re friends, it’s just that… I always thought very highly of you, Carmen, and I can’t always be sure that feeling was returned. You know? I assumed that you’d be out doing sophisticated cooking in big, upscale restaurants, and the rest of us would just be reading about it. Forgive me for feeling a little behind it all.”

“No, no, no. You got it all wrong, Birdie.” Carmy half-laughs at how you put him on such a pedestal. “You were always the one doing real work, as Mom would call it. You’re the one who’s actually smart and good at arguing, debating– that’s a real skill coming from me, because I just yell fuck at everyone and hope it works. I always thought you were the impressive one out of all of us.”

You snicker, but you’re actually quite pleased with that, and you feel your heart warm at his praise. “Ah, that’s so sweet. Thank you. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been surviving off of ramen and convenience store food for the last month. I can hardly make the time to cook efficiently.”

“...” Carmy shakes his head. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You’re gonna eat good food today then, I hope.”

Almost as if on cue, Donna calls for Carmy to come help her with something– and you’re left sitting as he tells you that he’s going to hear about your dream job when he gets back.

Fifteen minutes later– Carmy is still MIA, and you’re starting to get a little hungry.

You know it’s rude, but luckily Michael comes by and asks if you want a snack.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, and Michael snickers.

“You’re the same girl that can eat a whole number four combo at the Beef. I’m pretty sure you were hungry before you got here.” Michael jokes, and you blush in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, stop it.” You shake your head. “Anyways, yeah. A snack would be nice.”

Michael gives you a wink that strangely has you a little twitterpated, before you shake that off. He comes back a few minutes later, chewing on something himself– and he hands you a bowl full of Italian sausage stirfry.

“Thanks, Michael.” You smile up at him, and he nods, trying not to smile too much back at your gratitude, but he likes how you take a bite and look super relieved, happy with the food. He’s always loved giving food to people– taking care of them. Especially you, for some reason.

Michael heads back to the kitchen, and Natalie comes by and takes his place.

“Birdie!” She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, equally happy. “Oh my gosh, if I knew you were down here I would’ve come by ages ago!”

“Aw.” You beam at her. “That’s okay, Nat. I’m happy to see you too.”

She’s off ranting about how Pete, her husband, is late, and how she can barely manage everything going on, and you’re sympathetic. You know Nat gets more of a harsh treatment from Donna, and you tell her that you’re there if she needs a person on her side.

“Oh, Birdie. I couldn’t do that to you. Even if you are amazing at talking, Miss Lawyer-to-be.” She lets you continue to sit down in your corner of the living room, as she heads off to check on her mom– maybe pour out some alcohol.

Carmy comes back in, slightly powdered with flour on his forehead– and he sits back down, sighing, as he drinks a glass of water.

There’s the slightest air of awkward tension still– even if you and Carmy have fallen back into your old ways, he still keeps a slight distance, one that he’s grown into, and you feel that you have to break the silence. You don’t know if he’s just tired or if there’s some level of irritation of having to deal with all the holiday bullshit, but you take a guess it has to do with Donna.

“That bad?” You grimace, and Carmy matches your expression.

“That bad.” He shakes his head. “She always gets a little woo-woo around these fucking events. Like, I never wanted her to do all of this– but she insists and insists and doesn’t know how to let go of the, uh…”

“Hubris.”

“Yes. Hubris.” Carmy sighs, glad you still have the perfect word for everything. “Whatever. Anyways, haven’t forgotten. Hit me with your dream.”

“Okay, it’s going to sound a little weird, but, um… I’m really interested in becoming a labour relations lawyer?” You feel almost too much glee at the fact that Carmy remembered, and you see Carmy bite his lip, a little confused, so you continue, hoping you don’t sound like too much of a fucking nerd. “Meaning to help employees get out of their shitty situations with wages, working hours, benefits and fight for their rights. Union stuff. I don’t know, just feels like everyone is struggling with this nowadays… might as well push forward and try to help them out.”

“Wow, now that you’ve said that, it makes a lot of sense.” Carmy blinks. “I mean, uh, it’s not just that you’re good at arguing– you always go for the justice part of things. Remember when Michael and Sugar were arguing about cleaning the basement?”

You do remember that. You suggested dividing up either equally or by who owned what, and they eventually came to an agreement based on that. Michael wanted to dip because he was older, and Sugar thought it was demeaning to ask a girl to clean.

“Or when Lee said that women can’t think analytically, or what was it… mathematically?” Carmy laughs as he watches your face turn angry again.

“Yeah. I especially remember that. I told him to think about Ada Lovelace and to shut up.” You wince. “Maybe not the most mature thing I’ve ever said. I don’t think that’s such a great thing… sometimes I don’t know when to let go of arguments.”

“It’s alright, it was funny.” Carmy plays with his fingers. “That being said, I think you’ll be good if you choose to be that. A labour relations lawyer. You’re smart, and god fucking knows we all need the help. You should check out how many chefs get fucked over because they work at places for the prestige of doing so.”

“Damn.” You make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassed over how much praise Carmy has freely given you. “Is that going to be you?”

“Doesn’t matter if it is. Sometimes you gotta do what you can.” Carmy doesn’t really give you a clear answer, and you feel bad for him. Bad that he’s still stuck in that mindset.

You can hear people hooting and jeering near the stairs, as you walk around the house, exploring a little. Tiff was grateful that you visited her for a brief moment– she told you being pregnant was not all it was cracked up to be– and now you’re just on the upper floor, near the stair railing, on your phone.

You’re not really one to eavesdrop, but you hear– you believe it’s Mikey and Richie– they’re chanting “Claire! Claire Bear!”

Your stomach drops, as you hear them hoot about how hot she is, whoever this Claire girl is– how stacked she is, apparently, the banging body she has, the glasses no longer ruining her appearance– and although you know it’s gross men talk, there’s a small, sad part of you that wants to be perceived as attractive, too.

Still, even as you find yourself frowning and turning away in disgust, you can’t stop yourself from listening.

You remember her. Claire, one of the neighbours down the street. Went to the same high school as you and Carmy. She was really something, someone of note if you remember the popular kid cliques correctly, but she had largely gone unnoticed by you, and it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You can’t be close with every person in high school.

But still– you feel jealous. Just a teeny bit. What was so different about her?

Sure, she was a nice girl. But weren’t you? You arguably had more history with the Berzattos, and yet… it’s as if you’ve simply blended into the wallpaper, their assortment of home decor and furniture. You’ve always been here, and so you don’t stand out.

You might never stand out.

You can hear Carmy trying his best to argue against them, asking them what they did, telling them to fuck off with their teasing– but he sounds sheepish, embarrassed, righteously mortified in the telltale way one would be when they have a crush, and you feel sick.

They’re heaping compliments on her. You know what they mean when they talk about her like this– she’s the clear, obvious choice, probably closer to the family, more interesting, more affectionate, a genius. You don’t really know Claire that well, but apparently, she’s perfect. And you know you, in your silly frumpy sweater, in your attempts to dress up– you are not. You feel humiliated that you even believed Mikey when he said you were pretty– he was clearly complimenting you just to be nice.

You weren’t even an idea in their minds, not for Carmy, anyways. You don’t even think Carmy is capable of seeing you like that now, and it’s with a crushing blow that you realize you were holding out hope. Mistaking familiarity for affection.

It’s a rookie mistake. One that you thought you were self aware enough not to make, because you’ve always known Carmen Berzatto was just out of reach for you.

You wait for them to leave, and come down the stairs, running into Carmy as he groans in annoyance.

Carmy says he needs to wipe some of the flour out of his hair, and you let him go upstairs, not really wanting to look at him, doing everything you can to make your way back to the living room unnoticed. In the meanwhile, Michael comes back and flops into Carmy’s seat on the sofa, next to where you sit, sullen.

“Hey, Birdie.” Michael starts, and you can’t read his tone, and you’re a little annoyed with his fake-nice attention. “Why not sit with me, the Faks, Michelle and Stevie? They’re really good people, I promise.”

“How do you know I’m avoiding people?” You snap back, maybe a little too aggrieved.

“It’s written all over your face, little Birdie.” He touches his knee to yours, and you bite your lip, swallowing your confusion, and Mikey enjoys the fact that you’ve chosen to wear a deep, brick-red Christmas lip colour. It’s hot– he doesn’t get how you don’t seem to be aware that you’re attractive.

He wants to kiss you. Maybe mess up that fancy lipstick and that sweet, annoyingly justice oriented, always-right character of yours. But he keeps it to himself.

“Don’t be antisocial. You of all people shouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”

“I’m not trying to be antisocial. I promise.” You shrug, trying to keep your emotions, that sinking feeling in your gut at bay– the last thing you want is for Michael to see you upset. “I was keeping Bear company, but I can come sit with you guys.”

“That’s my girl.” Michael pulls you up by the arm, and you can feel your face warming at his choice of words– you like being in Michael’s good graces, even if you feel less than great right now.

Michelle, cousin of the Berzattos, has always been sweet to you. She’s impressive in her own right, and as you sit down in front of her and Stevie– she gushes about New York.

“Ah, that’s not to say Chicago isn’t impressive. Right, Birdie?” She smiles at you, not unkindly, and you feel happy to be included.

“Right.” You shrug, knowing that the law firm you work at isn’t all that crazy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re nothing special, not after what transpired just a few minutes ago, and you voice it. “It’s just okay.”

“No, c’mon. You work at one of the top fucking law firms in the city– you’re gonna make it.” Michael admonishes you. “Out of us Chicagoans, I mean, Michelle, before you take offense.”

“Yeah, Mish.” Richie echoes, popping up out of nowhere.

“None taken.” Michelle fixes her eyes between you and Michael– perhaps reading on something that you’re not even really sure how to understand, let alone explain– and she laughs. “Anyways, what was I saying? Right.”

She launches into a story about hating a woman who didn’t understand the Berzatto name. It’s quite funny– you find yourself laughing every now and then, the dull ache in your heart less noticeable, especially with how good Michelle is at telling stories, and somewhere along the story, Michael’s hand has stayed intertwined with yours, without you really noticing. You only notice when he lets go, and again– a pitfall in your stomach, wondering if Michael just feels familiar around you because there’s nothing to be attracted to and thus respectful of– and it’s such a stupid thought, but you still just know you want to feel wanted. You want to get a hold on yourself– remind yourself you’re not owed attraction and there’s nothing wrong with Mikey or Carmy seeing you as just a friend.

You realize with a start that you’re feeling confused about Michael, too. Was it just a weird quirk of his, calling every single girl pretty just for laughs? Could you even trust what he said? Why does Michael’s opinion of you feel way more pertinent and important than Carmy’s does?

You find yourself mulling over these thoughts, not sure of what’s going on around you, and you hear Michael tell the Fak bros, Ned and Ted, to shut up about California, which they do.

Donna starts screaming in the background, which causes you to turn abruptly. “Oh, fuck me!”

Michael turns and looks at you with some caution– he’s used to his mother’s outbursts, but he never ever wants you to face them. You don’t deserve that, you’ve probably never done anything to deserve it. Not like him.

Stevie gets up, much to the surprise of everyone around him. “Looks like Auntie D needs help, huh?”

“No, no, no.” Everyone tries to stop him, including you.

“What?”

Michelle pushes him back down, but he gets back up, resilient.

Lee decides to comment in. “Let him, why not?”

“I’m sure she could use a few extra hands. I’m going.” He goes, and you stand up to follow, not willing to let an innocent person get dragged into Donna’s insanity.

“Wait, Birdie. Where are you going?” Michael holds your hand again, and you turn red at his action– a little angry, a little glum that he seems to care for you, and you can’t even be grateful for it. “Don’t throw yourself to the wolves. It’s not fucking worth it.”

“Not throwing myself– just want to make sure Stevie is protected.” You move forward, your face stony, and Michael lets go of you, sighing as he wraps his blanket around himself, wondering when you got all pissed off, but glad that you’re not so upset that you wouldn’t act all lawyer-y for Stevie.

Lee is glancing at him, while Michelle looks pleased as punch.

“What? What the fuck are these expressions?” Michael looks around questioningly, and Richie gives him a side glance.

“When’d you get all sweet on her, bro?” Richie gags a little. “Not that she’s not your type, but, uh–”

“I’m just being friendly.” Michael dismisses him, leaning back in his seat. “It’s the holidays, she shouldn’t be lonely.”

“Bullshit you are.” Richie sniggers, and Michael lightly shoves him.

“Yeah, I call bullshit too.” Michelle grins. “I can see it– you’re blushing.”

Michael groans, hating to be so obviously vulnerable in front of everyone.

“Well I, for one, think it’s a huge, fucking catastrophic mistake.” Lee starts, and Michael feels himself blanch under the judgement of this guy. “You’re going to ruin that young woman’s potential if you go around messing with her.”

“Lee, she’s not that young–” Neil starts. “I think she can decide that herself?”

“Whatever. This one knows he isn’t right for her– always wants what he can’t have.” Lee mutters, and Michael feels that white-hot rage– the anger he feels bubbling inside of him as of late.

He does his best to swallow it down, but a part of him knows that it’s true. As much as Michael enjoys your random visits over the past two years, he knows– you’re too good for someone like him. Too young, too selfless, too honest and good and pretty, and he feels an overwhelming wave of shame that he came so close. It’s like he just… doesn’t know how to be a good, responsible person, and it kills him on the inside that he could be so shameful, be so abhorrent and take advantage of you like that, and even if there is a tiny part of him screaming that it’s not so black and white– that you could be just as interested, of your own volition, in him as he is in you– he feels guilt.

Michael is ashamed of who he is. Over, and over, there’s that feeling again– kill yourself– that he doesn’t know how to suppress, and he ignores it as he starts up a new story.

Natalie is tearing up as Stevie hugs her.

You came towards them in the midst of Donna yelling for Stevie to get the fuck out of the kitchen, and Sugar shushing him and shoving him away, and you now place a hand on her shoulder– clearly Stevie has it handled, somewhat.

When he lets go, she sniffles and you smile encouragingly, albeit a little sadly, and Natalie wipes away a tear.

“It’s okay. It’s fine, it’s nothing. You don’t need to talk to her.” She starts, and you shake your head.

“I’m not going to. I can see that would make things worse.” You squeeze her shoulders, and Stevie nods.

“Yeah, Natalie. But we’re here. We’ll always be here if you want to talk.” He tries, and you smile at her– but something about Nat’s slightly upset, off putting expression, and Donna’s grumbling in the background– you feel your heart seizing a little at the tense emotions, so similar to your own, and you excuse yourself.

You walk until you reach the pantry, hot tears already working their way down your face. Every single negative emotion have come to a head, and you’re in terrible danger of having to explain things if you don’t get it together in under ten minutes or so.

You sit on the high table in the pantry, trying not to cry anymore than you already have, your head between your knees– but something about today has all your nerves on edge, and you know it’s because you put in some effort to come here, to see your dear friends, to look appealing enough, to be someone worth talking to, and now you feel as if they never really cared about you at all.

You know these are lousy, immature feelings. You know you can be above them if you really, truly tried, but you let yourself sink into them further, because something about this environment is terrible and you just can’t let it go.

Even worse, no one has really done anything wrong. If this was a court case, you wouldn’t even have any evidence to make a claim. You’re simply confused, perhaps looking at things from the wrong angles– but the fact that you can’t look at this rationally makes you feel worse. As if you’re not as smart as you believed.

You don’t know how long you’ve been in here, when you hear someone shuffle into the pantry, next to you– it’s Michael.

He’s quick on his feet– you try to move away, let him grab whatever household ingredient he needed– but his full attention is on you as his eyes narrow, scanning your tear stained face and your hunched over body.

“Birdie?”

You can’t quite look at him, and you desperately try to wipe your tears, burying your face more between your knees.

“Hey, no. Birdie.” He shakes his head, grabs your arms. He thinks it’s a little strange he’s had to cheer up two different people in the pantry, but he chalks it up to how his house always is. “What happened? Was it Ma?”

“No.” You sight and swallow down the sobs in your throat.

“Then what was it?” Michael’s eyes turn steely. “Fucking ‘Uncle’ Lee? Asshole. Told me I can’t finish any fucking businesses.”

“But… you run the Beef, don’t you?” You say, amid sniffles, entirely honest about it, and Michael’s eyes soften. “That has to count for something.”

“Yeah, little Bird.” He’s glad to have you here– he doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, not when you’re the only person on his side at this moment. “But why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

“I–” You shake your head, and feel your head hang heavy as you slouch over the table, and Michael leans over you, pressing your head to his chest, and you feel yourself crying silently into his shirt, as he shushes you and combs back your hair, his other arm caressing your back.

Michael’s not the best person– not the most comforting to be around– but he knows, by being an older brother, by being someone people want to be around, he knows how to make it count when he does give in to comfort.

He just wishes he didn’t feel so goddamned depressed himself, so he would know the right things to say. He doesn’t want to be so useless all the time.

“Mikey?” You voice is timid. Small.

He feels both elated that you would trust him with this, and devastated that he’ll never be good enough to deserve your trust.

“Yeah, Birdie?”

“It’s so juvenile, but I…" You shake your head and decide to commit to it. "I wish I was pretty."

“Is that it?” Michael’s arm wraps around your shoulder as he squishes onto the seat of the table, next to you. “You think you’re ugly, huh?”

“I don’t think I’m–” You inhale deeply, and wipe away your tears again. “It’s not about being ugly. It’s more like an objective reality that I have to accept. I’m just not… I’m not anything special to look at.”

“Wow, kid.” Michael tuts and shakes his head. “Ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? That stupid fucking mantra, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s true.” Michael almost starts laughing, but you look so solemn and serious, he resists the urge. “You’re not ugly. You might not think you’re all that, but you don’t see what I see.”

Michael tenses, and you watch as he falters over how to explain.

Michael thinks you're so damn annoying with that ardent, sweet expression– even if your tears are staining your face, you still look so grateful to hear him say those words– and it just crushes him. It crushes him to know that you look for his approval so much, when he knows you're worth so much more than that.

He doesn't want to let you down. You and Carmen– he will never be enough for the two of you.

"I don't– I'm fucking stupid, Birdie, don't listen to me." He swallows, but you're hanging onto his words and your face falls again.

"But I can listen to you get all poetic about Claire, right?" You mutter, angry, and you get up to leave– but Michael grabs your forearm, and he's quite a bit stronger than you are.

“Hey. That’s different.” Michael tries, but you shake your head, and you’re left sitting on the table again. “I was only teasing Bear. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know.” You turn even more glum, and Michael is left feeling terrible, wondering what was so wrong with what he said.

You’re silent for a moment– you know that you like Carmy, but something about telling Michael about it feels weird, like you’re pre-emptively rejecting him rather than Carmy by confessing feelings that are slowly disappearing– and you just don’t want to.

But you know you need to. You need to accept that Carmy would never see you that way.

“I just… for a really long time, I thought that I…” You fall to silence, again, and Michael is staring at you, hanging onto every word, watching your side profile shake as you try to gather your thoughts. “I really liked him, you know? I don’t even know why– maybe he was just the clearly available, safe option, and now that’s not even true and I feel like I’m mourning something that was never even real. How stupid and childish can I get?”

“Wait, Birdie–”

“And I just… I know I’m not like Claire. I don’t know what I got myself into. I don’t even really like him anymore– it’s just that the situation makes it so damn apparent that I am just average.” You huff out your words with an air of finality that even has Michael flinching a little, and he runs his hands through his hair, unbelieving of what you’ve said. “You can’t even say I’m not, Mikey, because I know how you talked about her and it was just so different to how anyone here has ever thought about me.”

“Birdie, shut the fuck up.” Michael breathes out really heavily, pinching his brows, thinking that he regrets everything he said and he wishes he could take it back. “I didn’t really– I was trying to tease Carmy, you know? It didn’t mean the shit you think it does. Hell, I would be way more serious if I was talking about you.”

He takes a beat of silence– should he read your reaction to that, or keep going? And he decides to keep going.

“You can’t just act like you can read everyone’s minds because you’re a lawyer, Birdie.” Michael says it with a slightly lighter tone, and his hand traces the small of your back as you lean against your knees, staring up at him. “Didn’t you learn about intent or whatever the fuck it was? In school?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You admit despite yourself, and Michael smiles but continues seriously.

“I don’t think that about Claire, okay? If anything, I’m fucking embarrassed you heard me talk all of that shit– that was just meant to be, uh, guy talk. I swear.” Michael swallows, feeling guilty that he still had to be so low about it. “I don’t– I care so much about him, I just went too far in working him up. I think it would be a good thing for him, right?”

Hurt flashes across your face– you still don’t think you like Carmy anymore, you just don’t know how to feel about someone else being portrayed as a “good thing.” But you inhale– you know part of getting over it is having to accept this, and you let yourself think and then nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, I could see that.” You agree, and it doesn’t hurt as much since Michael is looking at you sympathetically. “I just… I want to be a good thing, too. Not for Carmy, just…”

“For someone?” Michael answers as you trail off.

“Yeah.”

“Listen, Birdie. I’m gonna tell you something you gotta hear.” Michael has that determined look where you know he’s going to say something smart– he has his fleeting moments of wisdom even if he doesn’t believe in himself– and he goes for it. “I can’t believe no one has ever told you just to, I don’t know, fucking love yourself a little? Like, c’mon, you should be able to like yourself! You’re an incredible person and you deserve– you have the right to be insanely fucking confident and it’s so fucking annoying that you don’t see it.”

In the heat of his argument, Michael’s come too close again, and he can feel your breath on somewhere near his jaw or neck, and he has to remind himself to pull away again.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and Michael combs back a strand of your hair.

“Don’t be sorry. Just listen to what I’m saying.” Michael inhales, thinks over why he can’t do this himself– Tina always tells him to be a little easier on himself, but he just struggles– and he thinks that you look terribly cute so it’s just a lot easier to root for you. “Don’t do it for some idiot guy who will never really appreciate you, little Birdie.”

You can feel the conclusion of that sentence, even if Michael doesn’t quite say it: do it for yourself. Be there for yourself. Listen to the good part of yourself, rather than him.

“Oh. I guess that’s…” You swallow, taking it in, knowing the value of his words. “It’s true.”

“See? You know it.” Michael leans in a little too close again, his face a mere breadth away from your own.

“I think you’d actually make a fantastic lawyer.” You slyly comment amid wiping your face, and Michael blinks and then laughs.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d get to see me and hear my advice all the time.” Michael mumbles a little over his words but to his surprise, you nod.

“Yeah, then I’d get to see some idiot who really does appreciate me.” You murmur even more quietly, and Michael, feeling stupid, has a wistful smile on his face that he maybe has not felt in a decade. It’s so sweet– he thinks his heart is bursting with something.

Maybe love. Maybe that jovial, Christmas spirit that seems to emanate as the food smells closer to ready, maybe what Carmen gave him as a kind gift, most likely the closeness he feels with you– not just being close in familiarity, more like– he can make out the little spots and freckles adorning your face, every single eyelash your still watery eyes have, the faint lines in your still-red lips, and it occurs to him that he’s too close. Somewhere during this talk, his hand has stayed around your back, and you have been tentatively tracing his right hand’s knuckles with your own thumb.

Michael knows how it looks. If anyone was to walk in right now (and he’s sure Michelle or Richie have already put it together that the two of you have been gone for a while) they would assume you two are a couple.

He has a sudden air of regret– it’s not because he wants to reject you, he just… he struggles a lot with feeling wanted. He struggles with the standards that people seem to put on him. Michael has always known he’s not a good guy– he doesn’t know how to be the person that everyone seems to think he is. Carmen, Natalie, Richie, you– you all seem to think the best of him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He nearly had a breakdown watching Carmen look up to him so lovingly.

Before he can pull away– with another responsible refusal, telling you that he’s too old and washed up, and that you deserve the whole world and he is not enough to offer that to you– you gently but firmly grab his face, tracing his cheek, and he thinks it could be wrong– what if you’re just feeling all confused and willy-nilly about feelings because you’re displacing what you felt about Carmen, what if you don’t actually like him and you’re assuming that you do because of his clear attraction to you, what if you’re just feeling the moment and the sweet guidance he’s given you?

Tons of questions seem to flow from his mind, things that he wants to ask you, but Michael thinks fuck it, because you’re leaning in first and pulling him in and it’s something he would’ve never expected in a million years, that you could be just as attracted to him.

He kisses you maybe a little too hard– maybe it should’ve been softer, more gentle since you’ve opened up to him so much, but you kiss him just as eagerly back, and he doesn’t fucking care to be gentle anymore. He’s leaning over you and Michael knows he’s quite a bit taller, so he has to pull you upwards to really reach your lips, and the table the two of you are sitting on is quite small– it shakes a little and there’s not much room for Michael to really feel you.

Until you climb into his lap, because of course you do, and now you’re just tangling your fingers in his hair, and he thinks he can feel whatever migraine that the day’s events have spurred on him slipping away, and his hands wrap around the smallest part of your waist as he pulls you in, pressing his chest against yours.

You feel like Michael’s beard tickles a little– but you don’t mind that. You weren’t sure until you did it that you’ve wanted to kiss him for a while. You feel like maybe you’ve actually been more attracted to him than you ever were with Carmy, maybe even just going for Carmy due to his aforementioned security.

Michael groans, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you sharply inhale as his tongue roams around your own, and he knows he likes hearing you gasp when his hands come up under your sweater, just to feel your bare skin, and you pull away.

Michael comes in too close again, placing a soft yet firm kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you laugh at him, and it’s one of the best sounds he could hear. No longer are you all gloomy and sullen in the corner of the room– but there’s still an air of heat around you two, and he knows he should let you go before things go too far.

“Consider that a Christmas present.” You murmur softly, tapping his face, genuinely smiling despite the smeared lipstick, and you clamber off his lap, and peek out the pantry. “I think you’re good to go eat dinner– let me just…”

You wipe the red lipstick from his mouth using the corner of your sweater sleeve, so not to leave evidence, and it’s an intimate moment that has Michael staring at your hand, to your eyes, and there’s something in his eyes– maybe sorrow, maybe appreciation, but most of all, tenderness, and he takes a silly, soft moment to just kiss your hand. You beam at him.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” You tease him, because you know that Michael has always had that look, and he stiffens for a moment.

“Ah… maybe around when you came back from graduating college.” Michael admits, feeling weirdly high and low all at the same time, but he questions you too. “What about you? Don’t tell me you just decided to kiss me right now. That would fucking… that would be too much.”

His heart falls for a split second– thinking about how again you could’ve just been having a little fling– why would you ever like him? He struggles to think how you could, even after having kissed you.

“No, no. I swear it’s not like that.” You turn a little red and play with your hands. “Um. You’re not like a rebound, Mikey, I just… I think I liked you ever since I started coming around more, maybe around last year? I probably just didn’t notice because I thought I was into Carmy. You know? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Michael tries not to let the relief show through his face too much. “I thought maybe I was… reading too much into it. Putting pressure on you.”

“No, you’re good.” You shake off his concerns. “I don’t think that at all. I really do like you… might’ve just been obsessed with the idea of a childhood friend turning into a lover.”

Michael grins. “Well, who’s to say that didn’t fucking happen, Birdie? Are we not childhood friends?”

“Eh… kind of. You’re a bit old.” You give him a so-so motion, and Michael jokingly pushes you a little. “I’m kidding! This is more like– your friend’s hot older brother gives you a chance and it’s crazy and exciting and you just want to know more.”

You were half kidding, but you’re so honest about it, and Michael loves it, but there’s still that undercurrent of agony– he wants to just openly like you, too, but he doesn’t want to be such a fucking failure about it.

“I’m gonna just head to the dining table, I think.” You check your watch. “Gotta go think about this a little more– is that okay? Not in a bad way, I’m just overwhelmed with everything that’s happened today…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s okay, Birdie.” Michael presses a kiss into your hairline. He knows it is a lot for anyone to handle– getting over a crush you thought you had, realizing that you like someone else– he gets it. “Take all the time you need.”

“Okay.” You smile eagerly at him and then walk outside through the hallway, wiping your mouth so it looks less kiss-stained, and peek around so no one is looking at you.

Michael feels a million emotions hit him at once, and he knows he has to cool himself down before explaining to everyone where you’ve gone, what’s happened– or he’s certain to implicate himself, and he can’t have that.

It all goes to shit not even twenty minutes later.

You’re sitting pretty between Richie and Tiff, who seem to be a little bit… awkward, maybe arguing mentally about something you don’t completely understand. No one has really commented on your disappearance, but you’re sure it’s obvious based on how Michelle and Stevie are whispering and smiling at you.

Michael gets a massive, depressive episode right after you’ve left him. He can’t exactly pinpoint why– he feels like a creep even if he isn’t one. Hell, he only actually met you when you were nineteen– he was in a different state when you started visiting the Berzattos. But even if Michael ignores his potential, old-man creepiness… he also feels like you’re headed for so much more than he ever was, and he knows he’s holding you back if he does this.

For once in his life, he just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be wanted without the stigma of not being good enough.

You, Carmy, and Nat. He knows you guys are on your way. Michael feels a pit in his stomach as he imagines why you guys all have to look up to him so much– he just happened to be in the right place, at the right time.

He can’t ignore the feeling that he is just a major fucking loser.

That’s why Michael goes and gets high. He knows he’s making a mistake, and he doesn’t want to do something so disappointing– but he figures he’s already a disappointment anyways. He’s grateful you’re not here outside to see how pathetic he really is– how much he craves a hit just to feel a little less shitty. And yes, it calms him down as he feels the high of the painkillers exacerbate positive memories, like with you, Carmy, Natalie– but it still makes his anger, his depressive tendencies strong, too.

When he sits down at the dining table– he’s not that intoxicated, but he knows it’s a little apparent on his face, based on the mild alarm on your own. You’re sitting just far enough from him for there to be plausible deniability, but still– you are worried about him.

“You good?” You mouth, and he waves away your question with an air of fake nonchalance.

You don’t look convinced. You can see the red in Michael’s eyes, the general tension in his shoulders, the unnerving sense of resentment in his expression. You wonder what could have happened in the last ten minutes that you’ve been sitting at the table, why Michael decided to go and get intoxicated just minutes after kissing you.

Were you too much for him? Maybe.

You know Michael gets high. In fact, last Easter, you’re pretty sure he spent the entire time high on something– but you only vaguely know about his anger flare ups. About his negative emotions, the supposed depressive periods he goes through. You’ve seen him argue a bit with Richie, you know he’s gotten a bit harsh with Carmy, but you know he’s a bit more troubled than that. The whole family seems a bit troubled. Natalie has told you that much, and you have your experience with that– your mother and father’s fights are ones that still make you quiver to think about. But with Michael?

You don’t know how much you believed it, until now, because Michael always seemed kind of… like he always had the right thing to say. You almost feel like he’s in the right to get upset, because he’s had a hard time, with his family, some of his luck surrounding his career– especially with how Lee continually riles him up.

The table is formal and nice for a bit. Michael and Tiff converse about something, Carmy asks if you’re okay and you mostly are. Michelle asks Mikey to say grace, and he sounds resentful, again, of Lee cutting him off so often.

Cicero, being the responsible uncle that he is, tries to push off grace to Stevie, who promptly rejects it, and Michelle decides to ease the tension by asking what the hell the seven fishes are all about. Lee, of course, gleefully answers, about the dutch potatoes and the bible.

Michael glares at him and throws a fork. A real, honest-to-god, heavy piece of silverware. It clatters on the carpeted floor– you feel yourself flinch, and you watch Natalie and Pete’s expressions crumble into the realization that Michael is not okay, and everyone seems to look towards him in fear.

“You see what you did, right? You already did that. You already bitched about the dutch oven.” Michael retorts at him, not completely coherent, and you can feel the lights glazing over– the Christmas tree, the wreaths and baubles, everything seems to lose focus in comparison to the red-hot anger that Michael is bubbling over with.

Cicero and Carmy try to call him off, but Michael isn’t listening, and you can tell– he’s in a place to be upset. It’s like a slowly proceeding car crash– as much as you don’t want him to do it, you understand why he’s going to. You feel like there is a bit of a double standard in place here– Cicero seems to want him to respect his elders, and Michael is being kind of childish, but you can’t say you don’t understand why.

Michael asks for Fak’s fork, in direct opposition to Lee’s attempts to play the father in this house. Despite Fak’s insistent refusals, Michael successfully takes it. Everyone speaks with the intent to stop him, and he’s too focused on Lee to stop.

You know you hate Lee too. But such a severe reaction, coming from Michael? It has you wincing a little. You want to pull him away– tell him to be the nice older brother you’ve always known him to be– but you know it takes time. You know it’s probably going to get worse. You try to catch his eye– and he can't quite look at you.

You have faith in him. You know Michael can do better than this– you just hope he can see it, too.

Michael throws the second fork, and you feel regret in trusting him, again, because he’s making things bad but it’s almost as if he can’t help it. You catch Natalie’s eyes– she’s clearly disappointed, too.

Michael feels a sick sense of pleasure, as he often does when it comes to acting out his worst desires. But he feels a flash of anger with himself– is that what he did with you? Is he really this guy? He thinks that he is, he is a bad dude and he can commit to that role if that’s what’s needed.

“Cousin, you’re scaring the normals.” Richie tries, looking at Tiff and you, but you’re still yearning to catch his glance– and Michael can only respond that it’s nothing, everything is fine, and you’re suddenly reminded of when your parents used to fight and how you used to have to be the middle man and convince them that things were alright.

Michael looks towards you this time– but you’re not looking at him. You have your hands neatly clasped in your lap, your eyes are focused on the set of candles in the middle of the table, and you look horribly upset, with your neck all tense as you wait for things to blow over, and he can tell– he’s fucking up big time. Stevie, Carmy, everyone is looking pained, and Michael can only think that he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to make Lee feel just as terrible as he does.

"You see– I can throw forks because this is our father’s house." Michael scoffs back, and there's real agony in his tone. “My father’s house.”

Michelle inhales. “We have lift-off.”

“Okay, you got everyone's attention, so go ahead, tell us a story we've all heard a million times already.” Lee spits out, barely holding back his own contempt for Michael, and Michael starts laughing as if everything’s alright. “Tell a story about how you're living with your mom and you're borrowing money off of her and any other sucker who'll listen to your bullshit.”

Everyone looks towards the table, feeling terribly awkward about Lee’s accusations– it’s not that it’s necessarily untrue, but there’s a hefty amount of his own assumptions, his own bias thrown in there, and you want to speak up.

“Lee, shut the fuck up.” Cicero looks absolutely pissed off at him, and you’re grateful someone has taken some of the heat off of Michael. It’s Lee’s fault, too.

“I’m sorry. I told you not to be a sucker, Jimmy.” Lee comments, and Cicero exhales, exasperated.

“Lee. That’s not really fair– you’re being too hard on him.” You utter through gritted teeth, and Lee’s eyes narrow on you. It's the first time you've spoken, and Michael glances at you– his eyes are bright and he genuinely looks sorry. Sorry he had to go this far.

“Oh, am I? Really, Birdie? I would suggest I’m not being hard enough.” Lee raises his hands, invites you to speak more, and you know that it’s not really your place to do so, especially because Lee and Michael seem to have a lot of history.

But you have your almost-lawyer tendencies, and of course you’re not exactly unbiased either, because you want to see the best in Michael– you want to like him.

"Please, Lee… Michael's working on himself. You don't need to lie to him." You stare at him, and Lee’s face seems to turn darker with that. “I’m sure we all have our issues… it feels like a lot.”

"Is that what he's told you, Birdie?" Lee sneers at you, and you suddenly feel small. "He's a sick, fucking twisted man, and you would trust him, wouldn't you?"

He doesn’t go further than that– but it’s enough that you feel humiliated for being read so thoroughly. It’s obvious what he’s implying– you’re a silly little girl who doesn’t know any better.

“It's fine. It's fine. Because this guy's nothing and he's nobody.” Lee points at Michael again, and his expression sours so much. You watch as Michael seems to zero in on what Lee’s rambling on about.

Natalie shakes her head in little no-no motions.

“Hey… Petey… I just need to, uh… I need to borrow this for one second.” Michael’s got that nonchalant expression again, but there’s pain in his eyes, and there’s a clamour of everyone again telling Michael to stop, calling his name, trying to distract him.

"Michael. Michael. Please don’t do this. Hey. Hey. Hey!" Natalie calls at him, and you know she's just begging for him to leave it alone. “I love you. Okay?”

You watch as Michael, holding the fork, just holding it, clear malicious intent in his eyes, tension building in the air and you feel a little sick, but his eyes are watering and he clearly doesn’t want to do what he thinks he has to.

“I love you too, Sug.” Michael says honestly.

Stevie giggles, Cicero de-escalates things further, and you think you see the light at the end of the tunnel, if not for the fact that Michael is still holding the fork. Still standing up, taunting him, acting like a big old child as Carmy rebukes him– and it’s really just two grown men beginning to get all macho and toxic about who’s tougher, who’s really the man of the house, and they start screeching at each other and you watch as Michael’s eyes glaze over with something, with Lee’s final insult that “he’s nothing.”

You watch as Michael takes his seat. He seems ambivalent, hard to read– he’s not meeting anyone’s eyes and you feel terrible about it.

Donna comes in and takes her seat– she seems rather drunk, too, and the last thing you need is more evidence that substance abuse is a bad thing– and Stevie starts the most wonderful prayer that still isn’t enough to dissuade Michael. You catch his gaze– he’s mulling over something, his eyes are watery, and you want to go over there and talk him down, even if that idea is unwise.

Donna cries over the prayer, and Natalie commits the most cardinal sin that she could at this moment: she asks if she’s okay.

You flinch with recognition as Donna starts screaming at her, about how she is okay and could a person who isn’t okay make such a gorgeous meal, and she exits the room in visible anger, and Natalie begins to hyperventilate, while Michelle tries to calm everyone down.

Donna throws a plate down on the floor, and exits the room continuing to scream– and there’s a beat of tense silence, full of angst and what-nows, and Lee decides to take initiative breaking that silence with a silly joke– almost in a paternal role, again, a hot topic between him and Mikey– and you watch Michael’s eyes start narrowing as he leans against his hand.

Michael throws the third fork.

It’s like every single nerve you felt, every bit of tension that was already in place, comes to a head as Michael starts going batshit, trying his best to attack Lee, while the Fak brothers and Richie are between them, and you can barely think straight as everyone starts screaming at each other.

Tiff almost gets dragged into the chaos, and you're left shielding and comforting her from the fight. Pete and Richie hold Michael off and you're thankful– the last thing you want is to go up in there and get caught in the crossfire yourself. It’s genuinely a blur– you have no idea how bad things are getting until Cicero starts telling them to get the fuck out.

Suddenly, the wall of the living room bursts inwards, the Christmas tree getting dragged in the crossfire, and you realize with shock that someone’s driven a car inside.

Not just any car– that’s Donna in there, driving, and you think for a moment she’s dead. You can’t believe what’s happening– you can feel your heart hammering through your chest.

Michael runs towards the car, tries to open the front door, yelling and asking her what she did, asking her to open the door. She stirs a little.

Everyone else is standing there, in shock, not focusing properly on what to do, and you pull yourself away from the crowd of people, as they stare on in horror. You don’t want to be a part of this, but you are, and you know what a responsible adult would do.

You go outside, into the December night’s cold air, and call 911. Specify for the firefighters and ambulances, because Cicero has a big thing against narcs and cops and you’re not getting into that right now.

Even though you’re freezing, and that’s what you should be focusing on? You’re in an incredible amount of despair because of what’s taken place. You hang up the call and feel exhausted by everything that’s happened, and you wonder if Michael really knows better. If he can be more than this. It’s not something you’re judging him for– but you feel terrible about his circumstances and you want him to get out of there.

Worse, you can’t help but feel a little upset with him. Because you know that Michael didn’t have to stoop that low– he chose to, and that’s what bothers you the most. He let his emotional responses dictate how he was going to act, and you know it’s hard to not be so provoked in this environment, but still: you are concerned and upset with him, and you know you need to take a step back. As much as it hurts you to stay away, you feel like it’s going to hurt even more if you intentionally stay around.

You wait for the ambulance and fire trucks to show up– you take a minute to direct them through the house, and then you trust that someone else has got it from there. Carmy, Natalie, Michelle, Stevie– they’ve got each other, they’re whispering about something, and you know where you’re not needed.

You grab your coat and leave, leave as silently as you can without interrupting everything that’s going on. It’s an strange walk home– ten minutes of you thinking about everything.

You hope next Christmas will be better.

Michael comes down from his high hard. Someone’s wrapped a blanket around him, and he’s sitting on the front porch’s staircase, wondering what the hell is going on. Donna’s apparently been taken to the hospital– and there’s a makeshift tarp where the wall has been crashed in. Everyone has gone home.

Where did you go? He has a moment of panic. Are you okay? Did he fuck it up that badly? That you would leave without saying goodbye? Michael can picture the disappointment on your face, and he wishes– he really wishes he was someone else.

He’s stressing really hard, his eyes are beginning to tear up. God, he knew he wasn’t really worthy of your attention– you’re young still, you have the whole world ahead of you– and he wonders if he can apologize. He wonders what he could possibly say to make it right. After such an insane situation, he can’t even blame you for taking off.

Natalie tells him, kind sister that she is, that you were the one to call emergency services. Of course you were– you have a strong head on your shoulders and Michael feels strongly that his family is in debt to you. And then you headed home, but Natalie doesn’t know why.

He does have your number. But he’s not going to call you, not right now– he’s not going to make a bigger mistake and fuck things up further.

Michael sighs, and leans back. He doesn’t deserve to be happy.

2K notes · View notes

darlingshane · 1 year

Text

Michael Berzatto · Masterlist

> DRABBLES & ONE-SHOTS – Greetings from Boston (GN!Reader) – The Storm * – Something Crazy * – Let it rip, Coach – Burden (platonic Carmy & SIL!Reader) – Bear the brunt (GN!Reader) * – Hot to go * – Vicious Circle * – Sticky * – Cheers to new traditions * – Do-over *

> SECRET INGREDIENT SERIES – Part 1 – Part 2 *

> CHEMISTRY SERIES – Part 1: Afternoon Delight * – Part 2: Kiss the Cook *

> SALT OF THE EARTH (Michael x OFC) – Chapters 1 - 4 – Chapters 5 - 7 * – Chapters 8 - 10 *

* = Explicit – No use of y/n. No physical descriptions. – F!reader unless stated otherwise. – Check out my main masterlist for other characters.

#michael berzatto x reader #michael berzatto #michael berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #michael berzatto masterlist #character masterlist #jon bernthal #michael berzatto x ofc #michael berzatto x oc #mikey berzatto #mikey berzatto x reader

246 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 3 years

Text

TAGS

WRITING

f1nalboys writing ; f1nalboys works ; f1nalboys masterlist - these are the tags i use on all of my writing.

full character name - just the characters name. if they go by a nickname but have a full name (like jd / jason dean,) then there will be a separate tag for their nickname and then their full name. if there is only their first name it will be followed by the franchise name (marko / marko the lost boys / marko tlb)

character x reader ; character x y/n - if you’re looking for a specific character x reader, these tags will be for everything ive written for them.

character x character - the only non-reader included ships i write for are billy and stu, tatum and sidney, randy and mickey, randy and sidney, erin and ian, paige and carly, and nick and dalton

character x reader x character - the poly ships i write for are the same as above as well as randy and ian, randy ian and jd, randy and stu, the lost boys, the lost boys and michael, the lost boys michael and star. reader will be after the first character followed by the next character(s).

poly!___ x reader - only used for poly!ghostface and poly!tlb

character and character - platonic and familial relationships between characters, no romantic/sexual relationships or hints even if they have had a past romantically. these include the sinclair brothers, dewey and tatum, mindy and chad, mindy chad and randy, and carly and nick

character x s/i - character and me. some fics are super detailed and relate strongly to me, others are more vauge but are not written as reader-insert. so far the only characters ive posted self-insert fics for are kendall roy, bo sinclair, and carmy berzatto but i sense more coming.

PERSONAL

ask tag thing - any ask game or tag where ill be answering asks will be under this as well as the post i reblogged.

me core - non-writing reblogs that i want to save and find funny

#f1nalboys writing #tag directory #hehe #blegh

15 notes · View notes

etherealising · 1 year

Text

interlude two | anyone who had a heart

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

summary: the devastion of mikey's passing pushes baby into the arms of the man she loves the most.

wc: 17.3k

edited to the best of my abilities. if things don't make sense i apologize!

March 1, 2022

The rain rhythmically bounced off the umbrella in Richie’s hand. Both of you huddled under the slightly too-small object, the majority of your bodies dry, but each of you felt your fair share of rain land squarely on you. The child in front of you, dry as a desert, her small stature an advantage.

All that could be heard was nature's tears singing against the various umbrellas and the voice of the priest that seemed to just drone on and on.

Donna’s cry’s had been relegated to silent sobs just moments ago, you watched as Nat put her own hurt and discomfort aside to assuage Donna’s nerves.

You had all but ignored the empty seat situated next to Natalie, not wanting to believe the truth of the situation. As you stared at the coffin resting several feet in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what the cold lifeless body lying inside looked like. You knew there was only so much that could be done to make a body with a hole in its head presentable, and that a closed-casket funeral was for the best.

It was selfish, but you wanted one last look at Mikey. Did he look peaceful? Was he finally freed from the vices that had for so long controlled him? You so hoped that wherever he was, wherever his soul found its spiritual comforts he was at peace.

A tug on the sleeve of your coat drew your attention. Looking down your eyes met Eva's, the little girl insisted on standing with you, her small toddler hand securely wrapped in your adult one. It felt a little odd to be standing here like this, a buffer between a family that was no more, while also serving as the memory of one family’s missing piece.

She raised her arms in a signal to be picked up. Funerals were no place for children to be, but what good was lying to them about the realities of life? You gently lifted her into your arms sitting her on your hip comfortably. Eva’s small head rested against yours playing with the pearls around your neck, the small girl could only understand so much of what was going on around her.

You felt Tiff step closer to you, arm wrapping around your waist so she leaned into Eva’s back. The comfort of the small family surrounding you keeps you grounded to the moment in front of you, not allowing your mind to think of the pain Mikey must’ve been in, or the voicemail that had gone unchecked for the past week.

Funerals were a funny thing for you, the last one you attended was your mom’s. And it wasn’t a competition, but her death was easier. That’s the thing with terminal illness; death is inevitable. You would never be prepared for any death in your life, but it was a bit easier knowing your mom didn’t have a fighting chance. Her decision to leave this realm behind was harder, but knowing her passing was painless and of her own volition helped.

But Mikey’s death was different. It was sudden, unexpected, and messy and it wasn’t the death Michael deserved. But what made it all the worse for you is that he was utterly and terribly alone.

And it wasn’t like anyone wasn’t privy to his substance abuse, but none of you knew the depths to which it ate away at him, how it slowly killed him and he kept pushing on for the sake of others.

Maybe you should’ve asked him more about how he was doing when you interviewed him. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him a portion of your article. Standing at the cemetery as the funeral continued, even with little Eva cuddling into you and Tiff and Richie surrounding you; you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you could’ve done to save Mikey from himself.

Eva was asleep against your chest as you made your way to the fresh grave, Tiff in front of you and Richie closely behind doing his best to cover your small group with the umbrella. The rain hadn’t let up as you raised your dirt-filled hand over the pristine casket, this didn’t feel right at all. You had yet to cry since Sugar called you days ago with the news, it felt as though you were numb to the truth. Maybe it was your mind's way of protecting you.

But as long as the casket remained closed, and you never got one last peek at the man who had taught you that you deserved more than what you settled for. You could pretend for just a little longer that none of this was real.

Releasing your grip on the dirt you watched as it splashed across the top of the casket mixing with the droplets of rain. You hesitated for a minute turning your back on this casket felt too final, like leaving this cemetery would be closing a door in your life you were desperate to keep open.

Richie’s free hand came up to your shoulder, a soft squeeze pressed into your jacket. You looked back at him the same hurt and pain you were feeling reflected on his face. He gave you a small nod as a way to let you know that it was okay to walk away, that he understood the hurt you were feeling.

As Tiff walked off to her car, you held Eva in one hand and allowed Richie to grip your other. The warm grasp of his hand gave you the strength to turn your back and walk away from a man whose love, charisma, and smile you would never be blessed to see or experience again.

March 12, 2022

Carmy sat on his lawn chair watching the rain splash against the window that led to his balcony, the funeral program rested lazily on his lap held in place by his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He didn’t realize it but this had been his routine since he learned of his brother's passing.

He would come home not even bothering to change out of his work clothes and plop down in the creaky lawn chair, usually on his balcony but recently the weather hadn’t been calm enough for that.

Light up a cigarette and just bask in his despair.

The only difference had been the program he received in the mail a week ago. The newly acquired folded paper joined his after-work routine for the day after being left on the island in his kitchen since receiving it.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mikey for choosing death, or if he was more hurt by what they would never again be able to experience with each other. He felt like once again Mikey had left him behind, not thinking about the ways his actions would affect those around him, affect the people who loved him.

The decision to skip the funeral wasn’t as hard as most would have thought. What good would Carmy have to offer by being there, it's not like anyone needed him. And anyway, he couldn’t just drop everything happening here in New York for a day, life didn’t work that way for him.

Carmy knew he didn’t hate Mikey, he just didn’t understand his choices recently. Didn’t necessarily understand how much the prescriptions had fucked with his mind. And maybe in a selfish way, he wasn’t ready to understand, to forgive Mikey for leaving him so soon. Nothing to even show for the loss of the person who inspired him most besides the funeral program as an ugly reminder of what he could never be again.

A soft knock rang through the quiet apartment, the man inside happy to ignore it, sure it was just one of his neighbors doing whatever weird shit they usually did. He removed a cigarette from his pack standing up and setting the program in the chair before grabbing his lighter and moving to open the window.

He heard it again, this time a bit louder and more urgent sounding. Carmy removed his phone from his pocket, the generic lock screen shining up at him with the time reading 2:30 am.

No one had ever shown up at his apartment this late, not even the woman across the way who periodically tried to charm Carmy all kinds of inconvenient times of the night. The knocking finally stopped as muffled voices carried through the hallway outside his door.

Carmy wouldn’t consider himself a nosy neighbor but he did find himself a bit curious who was knocking at his door at such an hour it alerted another tenant. Cigarette sitting between his lips he made his way to the door, ear leaned against it as he tried to catch bits and pieces of the conversation happening out there.

Having no such luck he resorted to checking the peephole to find his neighbor outside her door talking with a woman who appeared to be soaked to the bone. Carmy watched for a moment, he couldn’t place it but something about the unknown woman looked familiar to him. He continued watching his neighbor motioning for the woman to wait outside for a moment while she grabbed something from her apartment.

Carmy was ready to return to his initial smoke break but found himself stopping as the woman faced his door. Heart stopping as he took in features he would remember for a lifetime. He quickly moved to unlock his door, throwing it open only to surprise the ghost of a woman standing in his hallway.

You ceased your knocking as you heard a door opening behind you, turning to face a woman who appeared to be around the same age as you. From her appearance, it didn’t seem like you had woken her up so you were grateful for that fact.

“You’re making a mess in the hallway,” her eyes traveled over your form. Your figure sopping wet from the downpour you just escaped from.

A tired sigh left your lips, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know the guy who lives here?” Your hand motioned to the door that was at your back that you had just been knocking on.

“You a friend or something?” The skepticism in the woman’s voice irked you, it was a yes or no question there was no need for her to give you the third degree.

You nodded trying to keep your cool. You were tired, dripping wet, and you weren’t even sure if Carmy was home. “Yeah, something like that.”

She gave you another once over before shaking her head back and forth, “No I don’t, sorry.” She began to close her door before you called out to her one last time.

“Wait sorry, is there any way I could use your phone, mine is dead,” you presented your phone as evidence, you didn’t want to be in this woman’s presence any more than she wanted to put up with you, but you needed to at least call a cab.

The subtle roll of her eyes caused the grip on your phone to tighten, luckily though the woman gave you a gesture to wait there before returning to her apartment.

You let out a sigh of relief, head dropping as your thoughts raced. You had no idea what the hell was going through your mind when you booked the last-minute flight. Having found Carmen’s address written on a forgotten piece of paper lying in the kitchen of the Berzatto family home.

The excuse to Sugar was that you had to meet with a potential interviewee for an upcoming article and couldn’t reschedule. You had already been in Chicago for longer than you originally planned, so what was one impromptu plane ride to the east coast?

There was no sign that the woman you bothered was coming back anytime soon so you decided to cut your losses, you would find a pay phone or something to use. You turned around sending one last look at Carmy’s door, the feeling that this was all for nothing setting in.

You went to pick up your bag from the ground when the sounds of a door unlocking caught your attention, raising back up to your full height as you watched the door you were initially knocking on harshly swing open.

Separated by a threshold Carmen Berzatto stood in front of you clad in his disheveled chef whites looking just as exhausted as you felt. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if this trip did end up paying off, but after five years without him, five years of hurting and hoping you could no longer hold back all the emotions the man evoked within you.

Your trembling lips raised into a pathetic smile as your eyes took all of him in, “Hi Carmy.”

The water dripped off of you as you awkwardly stood in the entryway to Carmy’s apartment. You watched him rush around to tidy up his apartment, he hadn’t said a word to you yet just opened his door wider with the expectation that you would enter.

“Carm,” your trembling voice doing nothing to stop the scrambling of the man in front of you.

“Carmen.” The name left your lips a little louder this time, finally gaining the man’s attention, his entire being turning in your direction but eyes never meeting yours. “Uh, could I maybe take a shower?”

Carmy’s head nodded rapidly, staying glued to his spot for a moment before he signaled for you to follow him. As you walked through the apartment to his bedroom you couldn’t help but take in just how Carmy-like the living space was.

Lacking personal touch and like he was ready to flee at a moment's notice; the only commitment the man could make was being a chef apparently.

You stopped in front of the bathroom looking around his room before finally focusing on him. “I, do you think I could borrow some clothes?”

Again Carmy nodded the man acting as though his voice box wasn’t working. You watched him move around his room wondering if he’d ever award you any form of attention or verbal acknowledgment. He stopped for a minute eyes finally finding yours, “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll leave these on the bed.”

Your eyes found the contents in his hand before it was your turn to nod and head into the bathroom. You started the shower searching for a towel and washcloth as you waited for the water to heat up. This whole trip could very well be a mistake, but there was no going back now, you were here, and you had already used your miles.

Slipping out of your wet clothes felt like a struggle, the heavy fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You quickly stepped into the shower, not wanting any of the water to go to waste. The steaming water helped to relax you, all your worries about your visit being set aside as you basked in the warmth radiating around you.

After standing under the shower head and allowing the water to caress your skin, you reached for the products Carmy had lined up in his shower. The shower gel is the same brand you used all those years ago on Christmas. Looking at the bottle in your hands you couldn’t help but think of all the ways in which Carmy wronged you, why you had allowed him to constantly hurt you, a fact you still couldn’t figure out.

And you couldn’t stand here in his shower glaring at a bottle the whole time you were here either. You took your time lathering your body allowing the calming aroma of lavender to invade your senses. Finishing you returned everything to its proper spot before rinsing your body and shutting the shower off.

Stepping out you wrapped the large fluffy towel around your body not chancing a glance at your reflection as you exited the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was closed and the clothes you saw in Carmy’s hands earlier sat in a neat pile on the bed. You perused the selection of a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his many crew necks and a pair of socks were laid out for you.

The deja vu the last few sequences of events had given you hadn’t gone unnoticed.

You would have to forgo a bra but you’d been in much more uncomfortable positions with Carmy than this. Dressing you made your way to the door, stopping for a moment to allow yourself a deep breath, you couldn’t be sure what you would be walking into. Along with the fact that you were in a city you had never been in and your return flight wasn’t for two more days, Carmy was your only option.

The warmth in the apartment slapped you in the face as you left Carmy’s room, the heater had been turned on. You followed the trail you had first taken finding your way to the living room that doubled as a kitchen.

“Sit,” you were almost ready to argue with Carmy’s demanding tone, but the food situated on the island counter stopped you.

You made your way to the lone stool taking a seat, trying not to marvel at the food in front of you. Carmy’s water bill would be high for the month, you had apparently been in the shower long enough for a dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup to be made. Carmy still hard at work making something on the stovetop sans his chef jacket.

Eyeing the food in front of you, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered. You greedily picked up a slice of the grilled cheese and dipped it into the hearty soup, The sigh of appreciation not going unnoticed by the chef a few feet away from you, a small smirk gracing his lips at the quiet sound you let out.

“Good?” The question caught you off guard, mouth still full, swallowing the bite in your mouth you set the rest of the sandwich down, eyes zeroing in on Carmy’s biceps that were put on full display by his form-fitting white shirt.

“I’ve had better.” Carmy caught your shrug as he placed a steaming mug next to the rest of your food, doing his best not to outright smile at your stubborn attitude. He moved to lean his back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he studied you.

“Fuck Carmy,” the sigh left your lips reluctantly. “It’s actually fucking great.” So enthralled with the food set in front of you, you missed the pink blush that dusted across Carmy’s cheeks. The heat in the apartment almost felt like too much as the lewd words left your lips.

“Ahem, I uh, I’m gonna get cleaned up. Make yourself comfortable,” Carmy watched as you waved him off, the food you were eating stealing all of your attention.

Carmy watched you for a moment longer, still shocked that your physical presence was here in his apartment. He wasn’t sure what prompted this visit, or if he even deserved your attention after all the immature shit he had pulled. But he was thankful to see you doing well, to see you looking as though you belonged with him in his bland apartment the clothes comfortably sitting on your body providing him with a feeling of domesticity he was one day hoping to have with you.

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands helped to send warmth through your body. You were still sitting at the stool not sure what to do as Carmy freshened himself up. Now that you weren’t shivering cold and rushing through the apartment you could finally take in the less than cozy abode.

It wasn’t much but you were sure it was enough for Carmy, taking a few sips of your drink you began ambling around the apartment, mug still gripped in your hands, a tether to reality. The living room wasn’t messy but more so what you would describe as Carmy’s version of organized clutter.

A small couch and television helped to offer a homey feeling. The out-of-place lawn chair caught your eye, and the corner of your lips quirked up at how fucking Carmy it was. You made your way to the window it was sitting in front of, the New York skyline at this time of the day still a sight to see. The rain gliding down the window felt like it matched the steady pace of your heartbeat.

Turning to the lawn chair the contents in the seat grabbed your attention. Leaning over you picked up the unassuming paper, a jolt of sadness rushing through you as you read over the program. The funeral a week ago is still stuck in the back of your mind, the closed sleek black casket haunting your eyelids every night.

You quickly replaced the program in its original spot. You had come here intending to confront Carmy about his absence, but the more you stood in his apartment, the more you realized you weren’t actually ready to hear Carmy’s truth.

48 hours was all you had here, if you decided to use it as an escape, so be it. You would have to return to the reality that Mikey was dead sooner than later. You were allowed to let yourself use the time spent here as an escape from reality. You could use your time here to reprimand Carmy for his life decisions, or you could use the borrowed time to relish in finally seeing him after five years and try to figure out the back and forth the two of you have been participating in for a majority of your lives.

Mikey would understand, he wanted you to be happy, so it was okay to pretend for a little while that he’d be waiting there in Chicago when you got back right?

You made your way back to the kitchenette needing a distraction from the very thoughts you were running away from. You finished off your hot cocoa before grabbing your remaining dishes and heading to the sink. Washing dishes was the first distraction you could think of.

As you made your way to the sink the sound of a door opening and feet padding across the floor could be heard. Quickly turning on the faucet you reached for the dish rag sitting in the sink, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the pain that shot through the base of your palm, the running water easily turning a translucent pink color.

Snatching your hand back you spotted the blade of a knife that was covered in drops of your blood and haphazardly hidden under the dish rag. Your good hand reached to move the dish rag and grab the offending object.

Finally getting a good grip on the knife, you were shocked at the familiarity of it, the personal initials carved into the handle proving your theory. The last time you laid eyes on these they were neatly tucked away into a luxurious gift box that Carmy discarded just as easily as he discarded you the morning after Christmas.

And you thought they had been left in the same spot all these years, collecting dust in his childhood bedroom. But as you held a knife from the set in your hand, and your eyes moved to the remaining set delicately placed on the counter not too far away, you realized that to be nowhere near the truth.

“Yo, what the fuck Baby,” your attention turned to Carmy’s voice behind you his figure clad in a pair of sweats and a white tank top. That stupid fucking gold chain that you had dreamed of taking between your teeth one too many times glistened against the firmness of his chest.

The delicate grip on your injured hand tore your eyes from the sinful chain. Carmy’s eyes raised your hand to his face examining the seriousness of the wound, “What happened?”

“Cut myself,” you raised the knife in your hand to show him, watching as his eye darted between you and the tool he took so much pride in owning.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Carmen Berzatto’s attitude would never cease to surprise you.

You scoffed quickly snatching your hand from his grip, and walking to grab the dish towel hanging from his oven, “I didn’t do it on purpose you fucking idiot.”

Carmy began rummaging around in his cabinets his search not continuing for too long before he made his way over to you, first aid kit in his grasp. You were honestly surprised he owned one sure he’d rather bask in his pain than take care of himself.

Your good hand shot out aiming to grab the first aid kit from his hands. The slight slap to your hand caused your mouth to drop open, who the hell did he think he was?

“Give me the kit Carmen.” You watched as his eyes met yours, the once blank expression on his face morphing into a frown.

“Don’t say my name like that,” you rolled your eyes before reaching out once again, only to receive the same result. “Just let me help you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!”

You raised your eyebrows not expecting Carmy to yell at you. Your hand reluctantly came up between the two of you so he could bandage it up. It was official that you were weak for this man, the demanding tone in his voice shooting straight through you.

The two of you sat in silence as Carmy cleaned the cut, the consensus was that you didn’t need stitches so the ointment and bandages Carmy had would do. You watched as he worked, hands delicately mending your wound he was so focused on.

When he finished you lowered your hand watching as he cleaned up before you made your exit to the living room, sitting on one side of the couch. Your back was to the kitchen as Carmy finished tidying up, the only sign he followed you out was him walking around the couch in your peripheral.

He joined you on the couch choosing the safe option and sitting directly across from you, the space speaks volumes. You brought your legs up to your chest, if this was a month ago you probably would have let all your hurt and anger guide you in this moment.

But as life taught you, the universe was eager to snatch away people you thought you had forever with.

It was silent for a little longer, the both of you avoiding eye contact. You finally turned to face him wanting to understand the choices he made regarding the situation between you two.

“Carmy?” You rested your chin atop your knees as he finally provided you with his full attention, “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyebrows raised, whether, from shock or surprise, you couldn’t be sure. You watched as his eyes darted across the room like he was looking for an anchor. You weren’t too sure who adult Carmy was, because the boy you used to know easily held conversations with you, even the tough ones.

“I just…I want to understand you, Carmy. And I want to know why I’m not good enough for you,” as soon as those words left your lips it was like you were looking at 18-year-old Carmy again. “I thou-we seemed to be in a good place after Christmas dinner, but then I woke up alone and…and it felt like we were back at square one like you ghosted me all over again.”

You were staring directly into Carmy’s eyes, it was hard but it needed to be done. You needed him to see, to understand how much his actions continued hurting you.

His hand raised in a gesture you had seen too many times to count, fingers running through his hair. If he didn’t want to have this conversation you couldn’t force him to, but you also wouldn’t keep allowing him to run in and out of your life when it was convenient for him. The two of you were friends once, and you weren’t going to allow him to continue exploiting the love you had for him.

Your arms wrapped around your propped-up legs, a security blanket for the words you were about to force out. “You can be honest with me, Carmy. If you told me you wanted nothing to do with me I’d be on the next flight out of here.” You waited for anything, a sigh, words, but all you got was his steel blue eyes staring you down in the space across from you.

A sardonic chuckle escaped your lips as you quickly wiped the tears racing down your cheeks. Head falling back to stare at the ceiling as a way to not allow Carmy to see your tears, before calming yourself down enough to meet his gaze head-on.

“I can’t be the only one that wants more for us Carmy.” You could see the light reflecting off the glazed film in his eyes. “And I don’t think I am. But you’re inconsistent with your feelings, and I know it’s wrong of me to spring this on you considering the circumstances…but I just need honesty Carmy, that’s all.”

You said your peace, but you weren’t sure what else you could say to try to make him understand and maybe that was the problem, maybe he didn’t want to understand. You leaned into the couch cushion for comfort. The distance stretching between you was nowhere near as hurtful as the silence.

The fatigue from your flight was beginning to set in, you rushed everything to make it here that you hadn’t realized how much of a toll it took on you.

Carmy watched you from his side of the couch, arms crossed against his chest. There was so much he wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. He knew you deserved the truth, but it had never before been asked of him in this context. He was scared of the fact that he wanted more with you; it frightened him.

The idea he had of the two of you in his head was intoxicating and unnerving all at once. He could admit to himself that he dreamed of a life with you, and found himself lost in thought too many times to count about what it would be like to come home after a long shift to you there waiting for him.

Carmen was intoxicated by the idea of spending the rest of his life with you, a continuous beacon in your life that surpassed the title of friend and edged into something more. But he was unnerved as well because he wasn’t sure if this was love or infatuation.

Loving you unnerved Carmy, firstly because he wasn’t sure how he would know he was in love with you or not. And secondly, he didn’t know how to love you and wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. If there was one thing Carmy knew it was that you were deserving of a life-altering love, a love that transcended lifetimes if possible.

But he was almost positive he couldn’t be that person for you, he wasn’t deserving of you.

“I uh, I tried calling you,” Carmy stopped to collect himself, he wanted to talk to you, to let you understand him like you once did. “You changed your number. And that’s not an excuse. I understood why. I just…I guess I took it as a sign that there was nothing left for us.”

His eyes met yours searching for any sort of reaction, any form of acknowledgment. Your puffy eyes and tear-stained face stared back at him, his heart clenching in his chest at the emotional distress he constantly put you through.

“I um,” a placating smile raised to Carmy’s lips as he fumbled with his fingers as a distraction. “I can’t-Baby I-we both know I can’t give you what you deserve.” Carmy did his best to play off the watery undertone in his voice, eyes quickly darting up to yours as he heard your sniffles.

Carmy watched as your head rapidly nodded up and down, a sad knowing smile stretching across your lips. The tightness in his chest increased tenfold, his hand coming up to press into the middle of his chest, hoping to alleviate the pain.

“I um, I think I would like to go to sleep if that’s okay?” You raised your head to look at Carmy, you told him you would accept his rejection, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to hurt.

Carmy nodded getting up and walking towards you, holding his hand out to help you up. You allowed him to grasp your soft hand in his firm calloused one, head down as he led you to his bedroom. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed as he escaped into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with tissues in his hand.

You avoided his eyes as he bent down on his knees in front of you, gently using the collected tissue to dab at your puffy face. You couldn’t help the sorrowful laugh that escaped your lips, the scene reminded you of when the two of you were growing up and Carmy would always help clean your face after a good cry.

A tight smile formed on his lips as his eyes met yours, the two of you probably thinking of the same memories. He finished drying your face before returning to the bathroom to throw away the tissues. Carmy helped you up from the bed to pull down his comforter before allowing you to get in.

He watched as you scooted over to make room for him awaiting his entrance, “Uh lemme just tidy up out there.” Both of you knew it was an excuse but neither were brave enough to admit it.

Carmy quickly left the room heading straight for the small duffle you had brought with you. He was sure the rain had soaked through your bag and wet your belongings. Making his way to the closet where his washer and dryer were located he easily fit your clothes into the wash, not wanting you to be stuck in his clothes for however long you were there.

He found your laptop bag in there as well, quickly removing it from its confines and drying it with a clean kitchen towel. Placing the laptop on his counter he made his way around the kitchenette to clean up the mess your blood made and finish off the dishes you hadn’t been able to wash. All of this was a distraction to the warm body he knew was waiting up for him in bed, he felt the urge to prolong the inevitable but realized he might never get this chance again.

Carmy quickly finished his clean of the front room, it wasn’t up to his usual standards but he could no longer deny himself the thing he wanted most in that moment; to wrap you up in his arms and hope he’d never have to let go.

Making sure all appliances were off and starting the washer, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute, the figure peacefully lying in his bed not something he was used to. Carmy quietly crept over to the empty side of the bed lifting the covers and allowing himself to slide in.

Carmy knew you weren’t asleep and any other time he might’ve felt embarrassed to be so eager to be near you, but something about being in your presence felt right. Carmy made sure to scoot close to you, arm moving to wrap around your midsection and bring you closer to him, the need to feel your body pressed against his barely being satisfied.

His face found its way to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, the lavender scent he loved so much dancing across his senses. The sigh you let out into the night was a sign that you both wanted this just as much.

Carmy moved his head up a few inches, lips brushing against the ‘B’ hidden behind your ear. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think about the hidden ink stain or the words you said to him when he first found it.

Pressing one more soft kiss against the inkblot Carmy felt as you relaxed into him. Your warm body in his arms once more provided a feeling of bliss he wasn’t aware he needed.

You both knew the position you were in and the soft caress of Carmy’s lips against your skin, was a direct contradiction of the claims he made earlier. But neither of you would be the voice of reason in these 48 hours you had together.

Whatever happened between the two of you during this time would be welcomed with open arms. You and Carmy were on borrowed time, there would be time for regrets later, but as Carmy held you in his arms he decided that he would try to give you pieces of himself that no one had ever seen; even if it would all end in hours.

“Sweet dreams Baby.”

Carmy looked most at peace while sleeping, the stress and exhaustion seemed to have melted off of him as his mind transported him to the land of dreams.

You had been awake for some time now, Carmy’s presence helpful enough to allow you a few peaceful hours of sleep. But the inevitable thoughts of a life lost would always haunt you through the night. So here you were watching the slight rise and fall of Carmy’s chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked adorable like this but you felt a little weird just watching someone sleep.

Your hand raised gently moving the waves out of Carmy’s face, leaning in slightly to press a delicate kiss on his forehead before quietly making your way out of the bed. It was a little tricky to open the door without waking Carmy but you had managed.

Leaving the hallway that led to Carmy’s room you entered the living room, searching for the duffle you brought with you. Only to find it open on the floor, your toiletry bag the only item that remained in the bottom of the bag. Confusion swept across your face as you tried to figure out where the rest of your belongings were.

Looking around the living area you spotted your laptop resting on the counter, your laptop bag sitting on a towel next to it. You would figure things out later. The first thing you wanted to do right now was to brush your teeth.

You quickly tip-toed back into Carmy’s room and the bathroom quietly shutting the door behind you and beginning your morning routine. Now refreshed you exited the bathroom, a small smile gracing your lips as you took in Carmy’s still-sleeping figure.

Perusing the fridge and pantry you found a lack of any edible food. The few things available allowed you to whip up some French toast. You were no chef and maybe you should’ve left the cooking to Carmy but you were hoping this could be an olive branch for the two of you. If Carmy didn’t want to be with you romantically, maybe the two of you could work on mending your friendship.

Carmy woke up to an empty bed, his first thoughts that you had escaped in the night, his heart clenching a bit at the thought. He couldn’t be mad he pulled the same stunt on you, turning to lay on his back he stared at his ceiling, mind racing as he thought about the conversation from yesterday.

Carmy knew he wanted to be happy, and he also knew he wanted that with you. He just didn’t know the first thing about romantic love or how to explicitly make his wants clear to you. It seemed as though he’d never get that chance, you were serious about catching the next flight out.

Sitting up in bed he looked around, trying to gain his bearings. The sound of his bedroom door opening jolted him from his thoughts. He watched as you walked in with two plates in your hands, the smell of French toast invading his senses. His eyes found yours as you stopped in the doorway a small shy smile sent in his direction.

“I made us breakfast,” Carmy watched you make your way towards him, taking a plate off your hands as you sat on the bed in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind French toast, you uh didn’t have much to work with.”

Carmy’s eyes subtly lit up at the fact that you were still there, that you hadn’t left. “No, yeah this is great, you uh, used cinnamon and everything.” The shy teasing smile on Carmy’s face caused a small chuckle to bubble out of you.

The two of you ate in silence for the most part, each of you stealing glances at one another while the other wasn’t paying attention. Shy smiles sent each other’s way when one of you would catch the other’s eye.

You watched as Carmy took the plate from your hands and made his way to the door, you sat there for a moment watching him walk away before getting up and following behind him. You silently took a seat on the stool at the counter watching as Carmy began cleaning the remaining breakfast dishes.

The stretch of his back muscles under the tank top he was wearing was a sight to see. It surprised you a bit how toned Carmy was considering he lived and breathed being a chef, you didn’t expect him to have free time to worry about his physique.

You waited as Carmy finished sending him a small smile as he finally faced you. He made his way to you, the two of you separated by the counter, his forearms resting on the counter accentuated his toned biceps.

“I actually need to go to the farmer’s market today,” you waited to see if there was anything more he had to say but the silence drew on.

“Oh, I can stay here, I have work to finish.” You gestured your hand to the laptop not far from the two of you, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“Did you maybe wanna join me,” Carmy waited for your response, eyes darting around your face hoping you would say yes.

“Do you…want me to join you?” You could laugh, the two of you sitting here beating around the bush like two teenagers.

You waited as you took in Carmy’s shy demeanor, the blush rising from his neck, you were tempted to point it out but didn’t want him to close himself off like you were used to.

“I want you to come with me to the farmers market.” Carmy made sure to look you in the eyes as the words left his mouth, sure that he was red in the face but wanting you to know how much he wanted to spend time with you.

The two of you stared at each other for a while, the toothy grin on your face mirroring the his smaller one. The small nod of your head was everything Carmy needed to see for his heartbeat to calm down. He watched as you giddily got up from your seat presumably to get ready.

“Oh um did you do something with my clothes?” The smile didn’t seem to be leaving your face anytime soon.

Carmy cleared his throat hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah I, uh I washed them, they’re in my closet.”

You couldn’t deny that those words made your heart pick up speed a bit, the idea of feeling giddy that your clothes were in Carmy’s closet was a bit childish, but you would take what you could get at this point.

“Oh, okay I’ll just go get ready then.” Your hand gestured to the room behind you.

“Yeah,” Carmy couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of you getting ready in his apartment, it was almost like he could pretend this was his reality.

“Yeah,” you didn’t know why you were acting like a love-struck teenager but Carmy just brought it out of you.

“Okay,” Carmy nodded his head signaling you to take your leave.

“Oka-.”

“Baby just go get fucking ready.” A huff of laughter escaped Carmy at the way you were acting.

Carmy stood by the counter watching as you ran off to prepare yourself for the day. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his lips as he listened to your melodic laughter sing through the emptiness of his apartment.

You had split from Carmy a few booths back, the two of you deciding it was for the best. Your constant wandering off to booths that intrigued you put Carmy in a panic when he would look to see you no longer at his side.

It was your first time in New York and you were just happy to take in this small portion of what the city had to offer. The farmer’s market here was similar to the ones you’d been to back home, though the weather would take some getting used to, not like you needed to. You’d be back in Chicago before you knew it.

You found a small flea market-type area towards the back of the farmers market. Vendors gathered around selling handmade items and keepsakes. A few minutes into your perusal of the area you found a vendor selling handmade clothing items. A pretty cami dress caught your eye that the vendor exclaimed you just had to have, and who were you to turn down a beautiful dress selling for a decent price in the streets of New York.

With the dress nicely tucked away into a paper bag gently swinging from your arm, you decided it was time to make your way back to the entrance of the farmers market and wait for Carmy. On your journey back you stopped at a vendor selling handmade leather goods, a particular leather wallet drawing your attention.

The familiarity of it caused you to let loose a shuddering breath, the small item reminded you of Mikey’s wallet. Although his was more used, worn in. Standing on this street and looking down at the pristine wallet in front of you was almost like looking at a replica.

You remembered asking him once why he chose to use the ratty old thing and the smart-ass response he had given you. The fact that an inanimate object that had no ties to Mikey was causing this sort of reaction inside you, felt too real, it felt like grief was prepared to sink its claws into you.

And you couldn’t allow it, because you were in New York finally on somewhat good terms with Carmy. And Mikey would be waiting for your return to Chicago, eager to hear about your time with his little brother.

“Would you like to buy it, miss?” Your eyes found the vendors, a forced smile tracing your lips.

You slowly shook your head feeling a little bad for turning down goods from a small business, you just didn’t need the wallet, especially not one that would remind you of him every day.

The walk back to the farmers market felt melancholy: the promise to yourself to compartmentalize Mikey and his situation was becoming harder the more time you spent alone. Your search for Carmy became more urgent the longer you couldn’t find him. The racing images of Mikey’s casket swirling with your recent moments spent in Carmy’s presence.

You didn’t want to burden Carmy with the debilitating thoughts you were having, not wanting to ruin the good thing the two of you had going. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room and it seemed like neither of you was going to. The both of you content to live in momentary bliss for the time you had together.

It felt like you were spiraling and all because of some stupid too similar fucking wallet. You finally made your way to the entrance of the market hoping Carmy would know to look for you there.

Carmy gathered the ingredients necessary for the dinner he planned for tonight, luckily for him the restaurant was closed on Sundays so he could spend the day with you.

He still wasn’t sure that any of this was real. You showing up outside his apartment at two in the morning, holding you as you slept, and now adventuring out to the market he frequented, it all felt like a dream.

There was one last stop Carmy needed to make before he met up with you. He made his way to the old flower vendor who was always the first one here to ensure he set up a show at the entrance. Carmy had his fair share of conversations with the man but had never actually bought any flowers off of him, but today was the day that changed.

“Carmen is that you?” Carmy raised his head from the flowers he was glancing at, the old man sitting on the stool smiling his way.

“Yes sir. How you doing today Willie?” Carmy wasn’t much into friends or acquaintances since the two of you parted ways all those years ago, but Willie was a special case. Always kind, on Carmy’s first visit to this particular market the older man had explained to him the layout and gave him insider information about what times were best to come to ensure he got the freshest ingredients from each vendor.

“You thinking about buying something today son?” The older man rose from his seated position plopping the paper he was reading in his place.

Carmy nodded eyes going back to the various flowers to choose from. This wasn’t Carmy, he had never done something like this, not willingly at least. But he knew flowers could symbolize different things, and have different meanings. And if he couldn’t figure out how to be straightforward and speak with you, maybe a hand-picked bouquet could solve that issue.

“Looking for anything in particular?” He glanced at Willie, a slight frown marring his face, he genuinely had no idea.

Carmy chuckled, hand raising to scratch the nape of his neck, “I’m not sure Willie.” He felt a little embarrassed. How was he to translate his feelings to you through horticulture if he knew nothing about flowers and their meanings.

“Well help me out boy, tell me who they’re for an maybe I can whip something up for you.” It was like perfect timing as Carmy heard your voice trickling into his ears. You were standing on the other side of the entrance phone to your ear as you spoke to somebody, a look of exhaustion on your features.

Carmy’s eyes caught yours as you glanced in his direction, he watched that beautiful smile appear as you quickly ended the call with whoever you were talking to, smile mirroring yours as you two stared at each other across the distance. Your hand raised in a shy wave smile growing wider as Carmy reciprocated the gesture.

“Now Carmen, why didn’t you tell me these were for your old lady,” Carmy’s head shot around to find Willie smirking at him from his side of the booth. “Is that the young lady in that picture you keep in your wallet?”

Carmy watched frozen, as Willie moved around his booth, trying his best to figure out when the older man had ever caught a glance at the picture of you two. “Uh, she’s just a friend sir.”

“Listen, boy, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. And I know you betta not be lying to that pretty girl over there.” The flowers in Willie’s hand were used to point in your direction.

“I saw the way she looked at you just now son, that girl is in love,” Carmy listened as Willie began constructing the bouquet, ears tuned to what the man was saying.

“I’ll give it to you straight boy, you’re gonna regret every chance you didn’t take with that young lady. Now I don’t know the situation between you two, but what I do know is that you look at that girl like she invented oxygen, I know because that’s how I looked at my Debbie.” Carmy was raptly intrigued with Willie’s words, watching the sad smile take over his lips as he mentioned his recently deceased wife.

“And from our interactions you don’t seem to me like the type to let rare opportunities pass you by,” the bouquet seemed to be pretty much finished, the older man just putting the final touches. “Now you give that pretty young lady this here bouquet, you make her a nice dinner like I’m sure you planned. And you let her know how much you appreciate her.”

Carmy nodded his head rapidly trying to take in everything the older man said. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Willie wave you over to them.

“Excuse me miss? Why don’t you come on over here and join us.” Carmy could feel the panic rising within him.

“N- Willie No don-.”

“Hush up boy and introduce me to your lovely girl.” You stopped next to Carmy eyes widening as you took in the unknown man's words.

You looked at Carmy as he brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth, a tight-lipped smile lining his lips afterwards.

“Hi sweetie I’m Willie Carmen’s only friend in this city,” you laughed as the man winked at you before holding his hand out listening as you introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Willie, you have some beautiful flowers, do you harvest them yourself?” The man in front of you waved off the compliment with a serene smile on his face.

“My wife and I started selling at this market 20 years ago. This is my first year without her.” The smile on your lips faltered as you offered your condolences.

“Now I don’t wanna keep you too long, but this bouquet here is for you to miss.” You looked at Carmy before your eyes found Willie’s again, your cheeks warming at what the man was insinuating.

“Oh um, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Your wallet was out and ready in your hand, Carmy’s hand shooting out to stop you as he thrust money forward.

“Y’all put that money away now,” Willie shook his head scoffing at the idea of either of you paying.

He held out the bouquet in your direction, the smile lining his face urged you to take it. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful bouquet, the colorful assortment helping to ease the foreboding feeling you had earlier.

“Our friend Carmen here chose each of those flowers,” you looked in Carmy’s direction, the blush on his face so endearing to you. “I went on ahead and tucked a card in there with their meanings. You two make a fine pair, don’t let life get in the way of the love you share, you hear me?”

You nodded avoiding Carmy’s eyes like your life depended on it, easily listening to the wisdom Willie was bestowing upon the two of you.

“The world is kind but she is also cruel. She will take away the things we love even if we’re not ready to part with them. Love each other loudly and with no regrets, it's always good to see young love prosper.” The sad look in Willie’s eyes pulled at your heartstrings, you stood there wondering if he had any regrets.

The clearing of Carmy’s throat finally drew your attention from the wise older man in front of you. “Thank you Willie really, but we should be heading home.”

Willie nodded a pleasant smile on his lips, “Damn right! The two of you holdin up my business.” The older man shooed the two of you off a chuckle followed his gesture.

“It was nice meeting you Willie, thank you again for the beautiful bouquet.” You sent him one last wave before you and Carmy moved away from the booth.

“It’s a gorgeous bouquet Carmy,” you glanced over the flowers before your eyes locked with Carmy’s, a loving smile splitting your face.

Carmy smiled, unconsciously reaching out to move a stray piece of hair from your eyes, hurriedly dropping his hand and clearing his throat. “Let’s get them home and into some water yeah?” Carmy’s eyes darted around doing his best not to stare at you for too long.

You looked down trying to hide your smile, the word ‘home’ filled you with warmth. Your hand reached out to intertwine his with your own, avoiding Carmy’s eyes as they finally focused on you, “Lead the way.”

The gentle squeeze of your hand in Carmy’s made you smile, the two of you making your way back to his apartment. Neither of you mentioned holding hands as you journeyed home, just like neither of you said anything as you melted into his safe embrace on the subway ride.

The two of you entered the small apartment, your laughs filtering through the hallway and into the entranceway. A run-in with Carmy’s neighbor across the hall was responsible for the now-dying laughter between the two of you.

“Is she always like that?” You stopped allowing Carmy to help you out of your jacket before he hung it up. You turned to him, taking the bags out of his hand as you made your way to the kitchen. Setting them on the counter before searching for something to hold your flowers.

Carmy followed behind you after removing his own coat, hands falling to your waist as he moved around you to unload the few groceries he had gotten for tonight. “She uh, airdropped me a nude once, so right now was pretty tame I guess.”

Your headshot to Carmy’s everything in you holding back the laugh that was desperately trying to escape. “Poor girl. Did you send one back?” You nudged your elbow into his watching as the blush on his cheeks deepened.

He maneuvered around you trying to ignore your teasing, “God no, we uh went out for drinks once, it was cool.”

The crumbs he was giving you surprised you, “And nothing like came out of that?”

“I dunno was something supposed to?” Carmy made sure not to give you direct attention, mortified that he was even having this conversation with you in his kitchen.

“Well did you want it to?” You didn’t know why you had latched onto this topic of conversation so hard, it reminded you of the times Carmy would ramble to you about Claire. And if you were just spending the weekend with a friend wasn’t this the type of conversation you should be engaging in?

Carmy turned to you as you finally found a glass big enough to support the bouquet, he watched as you filled the glass with water before trimming the stems. “Not with her, no.”

You looked up to see Carmy finally looking at you with a serious expression painting his flushed face. You couldn’t help it as your eyes dropped to his lips, clocking the subtle peak of his tongue poking out as he wet his lips.

Carmy made his way towards you, Willie's words from earlier bouncing around in his head. He pulled the flower from your hand and placed it in the large glass he wasn’t even aware he had. He cleared his throat hoping he had enough confidence to get these words out.

“I’m gonna start on dinner, and you’re gonna go get ready,” his hand came up to hold the left side of your jaw, finger finding the spot behind your ear he always took special care to remember. “I want you to put on that pretty little dress you were gushing about on the way home.” Carmy stopped watching as you nodded your head showing that you were paying attention.

“Can you do that for me?” His eyes traced your face looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable.

Your lidded eyes lazily blinked up at him a quiet ‘yes’ escaped through your parted lips. A small smile rested on Carmy’s lips as he leaned in to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a moment too long.

He reluctantly removed himself from you waiting for you to scurry off. Surprised when you took a step closer to him and leaned in, a gentle press of your lips connecting to the corner of his. Carmy watched as you pulled away and smiled at him before taking your leave.

Carmy stood in his kitchen for a minute, heart racing as he realized what he had just done. The only place Carmy had ever been in control was in the kitchen, so maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take control in that moment, well that and Willie’s lecture.

He was sure it would never happen again as he began preparing the ingredients for the lasagna he planned to make for the two of you.

You and Carmy had switched places a few minutes ago after he walked in on you wrapped in a towel and profusely apologized for almost a whole minute. You easily slipped into your dress while Carmy was in the shower.

As you walked into the living room you could smell the delicious aroma of the cuisine Carmy prepared for the two of you. You were glad to be out of Carmy’s presence for the time being, your brain doing its best to process the moment the two of you had shared in the kitchen.

The cold shower you took did nothing to calm down the feelings swirling around inside you. You had never seen Carmy so in control of anything in his life, the demanding tone he used with you earlier almost had you making a fool of yourself right there in his kitchen.

A constant beep coming from the oven drew your attention, you quickly made your way to the kitchen grabbing a towel to remove the hot dish from its place resting in the oven. You couldn’t help but marvel at the pretty lasagna in your hands. It was a bit weird to describe food as pretty, but the presentation was generally pleasing to the eyes.

You walked to the countertop to set the dish down, turning to search through the kitchen for plates and utensils. Having a slightly hard time as you had no idea where anything was located at.

“Baby?” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, not having heard him make his approach.

You turned in his direction, a light laugh leaving your lips. It was a bit comical, the two of you dressed nicely, feet bare in his New York apartment. You took in his appearance biting your lip as you spotted his chain that encouraged you to do sinful things. He was dressed in probably the only slacks he owned, the ankles cuffed since he wasn’t wearing shoes. The deep green crew neck hugging his body was similar in color to the dress you were wearing, the unexpected matching caused another laugh to leave your lips.

The box in his hand finally caught your attention, it appeared to be a present of some sort. You pointed at it with the random spoon you had picked up while searching for cutlery.

“What’s that?” You furrowed your brows as you watched Carmy revert to his usual shy self.

He held the gift out to you, “Go ahead, open it.” Your hand brushed his as you took the box from his hold feeling a bit giddy at the unsolicited gift.

Carmy held his breath as he watched you open a five-year-old gift in his kitchen. You looked beautiful and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t seem to force the words out too enthralled with the intimate atmosphere that had been surrounding the two of you since earlier in the kitchen.

Carmy was a fool for leaving you the morning after Christmas and knowing that he let Mikey down when it came to you haunted him. He was glad to have these days with you, it wasn’t healthy but the two of you were providing a distraction for each other.

“Carmy oh my goodness,” the gasp of your breath brought Carmy back to reality. His cheeks warmed at seeing you so happy. “How much did this even cost you, these things are like relics.” Your eyes flashed to the smile on your face seeming to brighten up the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter, I bought this for Christmas and just…I never sent it.” He was prepared for you to scold him for his stupidity, tell him you didn’t care for the gift, and that you couldn’t play pretend with him anymore.

The press of your warm body against his surprised him, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding onto you so tightly scared that if he let you go then you would disappear and he’d realize this weekend was just a dream.

“I love it Carmy really, thank you.” Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as the two of you gazed into each other's eyes.

“Can I,” Carmy paused a laugh escaping his lips at the similarities between this moment and a past one you shared. “Can I kiss you?”

You wasted no time before you leaned forward pressing a sweet kiss into his lips lingering for a moment to translate the love you felt for him. Carmy’s hand moved up to your jaw, keeping you locked in place against him, his tongue slipping out to caress your bottom lip.

You slowly opened your mouth allowing him in, the softness of his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual, all the pent-up emotions being shared between the two of you.

The rhythm Carmy set was easy for you to follow along with, you took the chance to suck on his tongue a bit, losing yourself in the feelings this one kiss was bringing forth.

You parted from Carmy reluctantly, a small smile raised to your lips as you watched him chase you for more. A soft moan escaped you as he began decorating kisses down your jaw and to your neck, tilting your head back to allow him better access, surprise painting your features as he raised you to sit on his counter.

Carmy continued to study you with his lips, tracing down your pulse point and across your collarbone. It would never be enough for him, he would never be able to satisfy his hunger for you no matter how much of your skin his lips could paint.

The soft whimpers snatched from your lips going straight to his groin, his hips unconsciously canting against your leg that was in perfect alignment.

“Touch me Carmy…please,” Carmy swore he could cum from the sound of your begging alone.

But he stopped his ministrations, the realization that he had no idea what he was doing hitting him like a ton of bricks.

You watched as Carmy pulled away from you chest rapidly puffing up and down as the confusion swept across your face. “Carmy?” Your voice trailed off you couldn’t help the hurt you were feeling, here you were sitting atop Carmy’s kitchen counter dress hiked up to your waist the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear in full view, the straps of your dress pulled down precariously low that the top of your areolas was peeking out.

You quickly adjusted the top of your dress before hopping off the counter and pulling down the hem. Eyes filling with tears as you were brought back to prom night, memories re-playing all the hurt that came after it.

Carmy’s head shot up from its place in his hands the tears in your waterline and the way you had shrunken into yourself making him feel like a complete fucking asshole.

“Shit no Baby…I-Fuck!” Carmy watched as you jolted a little at the shout of his voice, he was fucking this up more than it already was.

“Hey, hey,” he closed the distance between the two of you, raising his hands to your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I-I’m sorry it's just…I don’t,” Carmy took a deep breath trying to gain his bearings. “I’ve never done this stuff before.”

Carmy’s eyes followed the emotions crossing your face, a frown painting your face before your eyes widened and your lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’.

“Carmy…have you never been intimate with anyone before?” Carmy knew your question wasn’t teasing or malicious but he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed at having to admit this to you.

“I uh, you were my first kiss…and my second kiss just now,” Carmy hung his head in shame, blush rising from his neck to stain his cheeks.

“Oh my goodness I’m such an asshole,” Carmy looked up at you a chuckle escaping him at your declaration. Your hand reached out to rest against his cheek thumb caressing back and forth. “Carmy I thought you were rejecting me.” Now it was your turn to feel shameful, your first thoughts being selfish ones as opposed to waiting to hear Carmy’s explanation.

Carmy’s hand came up to grip yours on his cheek, head turning to place a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Let’s sit and eat, yeah?” Carmy waited for your response, smiling at you as you nodded. “I wanna spend as much time together as we can.”

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, his hands squeezing your waist at the feeling of being able to freely kiss you “I’d like that.” You pulled away the two of you sharing bright smiles as you moved to have the dinner Carmy had so lovingly planned out.

Neither of you pointed out the fact that things would be coming to an end for you two tomorrow, but you’d bask in this loving atmosphere for all the remaining time you two had together.

You could feel soft lips pressing into the space behind your left ear, your first instinct was worry. Confused by the warm body pressed into you from behind strong arms gripping your waist as though you would disappear at a moment's notice. The memories of the last day with Carmy led you to relax.

A quiet sniffle finally woke you up enough, your eyes opening to the dimly lit room. A familiar head of hair tucked snuggly into your neck, and slight huffs of breaths could be heard.

“Carmy?” The raspiness of your morning voice echoed around the room, you could hear the breathing quiet down a bit, concern spiking in you.

You began turning wanting to comfort the man you had been in love with for most of your life, it was a struggle as the arms around you tightened but you finally turned to your side Carmy burying his face in your t-shirt-clad chest.

“Carmy, honey,” the lack of response was beginning to worry you, you had shared your fair share of cries with Carmy throughout your friendship but considering the circumstances that brought you together this time around, you couldn’t help but freak out a bit. “Hey, hey look at me yeah?”

“I-I just need a minute please.” The crack of Carmy’s voice went straight to your heart. He maneuvered so the top of his body was laying on your chest and stomach, his lower body settling gently between your legs.

You leaned forward pressing a lingering kiss to his head before lying back down and slowly stroking your fingers through his hair, wanting to make him as comfortable in this moment as you could. You were content to hold him all day if that’s what he needed.

The two of you laid like that for a while, Carmy’s breathing and sniffling calming down after a few minutes. You watched as Carmy propped himself up on his elbows, pressing a small kiss into the fabric of your shirt over your stomach, a small smile rising to your lips as you watched him.

“Talk to me, Carm?” You watched as he looked up to you, pretty blue eyes swollen from the tears he’d been shedding.

Carmy moved up a little resting his cheek against your sternum arms wrapped tightly around you, “Uhh, Sug called, said Mikey left something for me.”

It was quiet as you let his words sink in, a shuddering sigh leaving you as your hands unconsciously began running back through Carmy’s hair.

You felt Carmy’s hand slip under the shirt of his you were borrowing, fingers gliding across the skin of your stomach lazily tracing circles. The small gesture helped to relax you a bit.

“Did she say anything else?” Your fingernails softly scratched into Carmy’s scalp, the two of you trying to touch each other as much as you possibly could.

Carmy’s chuckle drew your attention, “She uh, asked me to come home.”

Your nails stopped for a minute before you started up again, heart jumping a little in your chest at the idea of Carmy coming back to Chicago, “Are you…going to go home?” The hope in your voice borders on desperation.

Carmy was silent for a moment, hands moving to lift your shirt just underneath your breast before he placed his warm cheek back in its previous position. The news skin-on-skin contact sends chills through both of you.

“Everything with Mikey kinda made me think about us.” Carmy’s thumb came up, to caress against your rib, dangerously close to your breast. “It just kind of puts into perspective that the people you care about can be here one day…and gone the next.”

The avoidance of your original question was not lost on you, but Carmy opening up may have been better than whatever argument the initial qualm might impose.

“Baby I-,” you looked at Carmy as he adjusted his position one hand resting against your sternum, his chin plopping onto it. “I um.” He stopped, you followed his movements watching as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

“For a while, I’ve known that I feel something for you, but I-I don’t think I can give you what you want.” Your hand slipped from his hair to cup his cheek, hanging on to every word leaving his lips.

Carmy leaned into the palm of your hand, letting himself melt into your touch, cherishing the few moments he had left with you. “And I can’t promise any commitment after today.” The rapid beating of Carmy’s chest could be felt on your stomach, the crack in his voice raising a small smile to your lips.

You sat up in bed. Carmy looked up at you as you held his chin in your hand, thumb softly tracing his lips as you committed his features to memory. The tiny scars marring his face, the few beauty marks dotted around, connecting them would create a new constellation you swore you’d remember forever.

Carmy was honest with you, and that’s all you asked of him. Neither of you could promise each other a happy ending after you parted ways and while that hurt, it didn’t make sense to ruin the remaining time the two of you had left dwelling on the future.

“Carmen,” you waited for him to lock eyes with you, a sad smile spread across your features, tears you could no longer hold back coming forth. “I know.”

Carmy’s lips pressed into your thumb before he gently cupped your neck and reached up so your lips connected. This was only the third kiss the two of you shared, but the intangible love and intimacy that could be felt through the single press of your lips would never dwindle, not for as long as the two of you surrounded yourself with each other.

He raised to his knees both hands entrapping your face, all his passion being poured into this one kiss. Carmy was slightly above you now, the angle forcing you to raise your head to stay connected. His thumb began unconsciously caressing the ‘B’ behind your left ear, a small part of you that had stuck with him ever since he discovered it five years ago.

The kiss intensified as you slipped your tongue between his lips, hands gripping onto his hips as he towered above you in this position. Your tongue moved languidly inside his mouth, small noises escaping the both of you.

Carmy pulled the hair at the nape of your neck, the motion removing your lips from his. “Did you mean what you said?” His breath left him in a huff.

“What?” You were slightly out of breath yourself, confused at what the hell Carmy was on about.

“What you said about this,” his thumb swiped back and forth against the ‘B’ inked into your skin. “Would you take my last name?”

You bit your lip, eyes lidded as you searched Carmy’s face, hand moving to grip his soft chin between your forefinger and thumb raising onto your knees so the two of you were eye level.

“Would you like that Carmen? If I let you give me your last name?” A patronizing smile graced your lips, the air between you charged.

Carmy surged forward hungry for a taste of you, his hands gripped your hair to tug on it a strangled gasp leaving you. The strength with which Carmy took your lips into his forcing your back into the mattress beneath you two, his body hovering over yours.

Your hand left its place on his chin sliding down to his shoulders caressing the little skin his tank top allowed you to feel. Hands traveling across his chest, the feeling of his toned body under your palms making you needy. You finally made it to the hem of his shirt tugging it up to give you access to the warm skin of his torso.

Carmy parted from you, snatching the shirt over his head before diving back in. Lips leading him to his favorite feature of yours. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him flush against you, Carmy’s lips ravished your neck as he nipped from your jawline down to your pulse point, teeth sinking in a bit harder.

“Fuck Carmy.” The delicious feeling of Carmen's body against yours, his lips exploring you, hands gripping the skin of your revealed waist. All of it led to the thrust of your hips up into his, it was selfish but you needed him, not that you would force him but whatever he would give you would have to be enough.

Carmy’s sharp intake of breath drew your attention as his hips relentlessly ground into you, hand wandering up your shirt to cup your breast thumb accidentally tracing your nipple.

Your loud gasp alarmed him. He quickly parted from you saliva connected your lips together as you both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.

“Did I-did I do something wrong?” Sweet Carmy worried that he had ruined the moment.

You sat up rapidly shaking your head as you stared into his eyes, the both of you breathing heavily, “No, no it was great I promise.”

Carmy nodded gently tracing your jawline as he looked at you, “Baby…I want this moment with you.” The mumble made your heart race, this was a big deal it would change whatever this relationship between the two of you was.

“Carmy…we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” You searched his eyes hoping he didn’t feel pressured by the noises you were making.

“Have you…done this before?” Carmy forced himself to keep looking at you regardless of the blush he could feel painting his cheeks.

The small nod you gave relieved him a bit, “Does that bother you?” You didn’t think Camry would mind but you knew the male species could be unpredictable.

“God no, I just don’t wanna disappoint you.” He finally looked away from you embarrassed to have admitted something so personal.

“You won’t.” You sent him a small smile before guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt helping him to pull it over your head. Watching his beautiful face take in everything you had to offer him.

His throat bobbed as he took in a large gulp, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, proving you’d have to take the reins on this one, not that you minded. The thought of telling Carmy how to pleasure you warmed you up even more.

Your finger reached out to lift Carmy’s chin, directing his eyes to yours, “What do you want to do to me, Carmen?”

You watched as he blinked eyes tracing your figure, “I just wanna appreciate you, Baby.” The words left his lips in a whisper.

You were taken aback never having heard that before while being intimate. His hands slowly settled on your waist, the safest option “How should I…do that.”

You smiled moving one of his hands to cup your breast, shuddering at the skin-to-skin contact, “We can start with kissing, then I want you to do whatever feels right okay?”

Carmy nodded, giving your breast a slight squeeze a whimper drawing out of you, taking account of your reaction he gently began rubbing his thumb across your pebbled nipple watching your body writhe at the small action.

He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss into your forehead, lips moving to your left cheek then your right. A small kiss pressed into each of your closed eyelids and the tip of your nose. Each corner of your lips got its turn before his lips found the space between your nose and upper lip. One more kiss pressed into your chin before finally ending with a sweet kiss to your lips, cherishing every inch of your face he had kissed.

Carmy made his way to your jawline, starting at the right side and tracing to your left, nipping every so often as he continued his journey. Lips slowly tracing from your jawline to your neck, he wasn’t sure what it was but seeing your neck on display for him made him feral, his hips grinding into your as he decorated your neck in love bites.

“Lay down f’me.” You eagerly listened watching as Carmy planted another soft kiss into your lips before following the map of your collarbones. Lips pressing into your upper chest as both hands came up to softly knead your breast.

You could feel Carmy’s hard-on pressing against you, as much as you were enjoying this, all you wanted in the world was to finally please Carmy. You slipped your hand between your bodies sliding into the waistband of his boxers, hand gripping him as a strangled moan parted his lips. The soft caress of your hand against him caused his head to spin, this felt different from the times he would stroke himself thinking about you.

“Does this feel good, Carmy?” Your voice was a little deeper, more sensual as you questioned him. “Do you wish it was me making you cum on those lonely nights, hmm?

“Fuck…yes.” The whine of his voice went straight to your core, spurring you on more.

Your strokes became a little firmer, applying more pressure to provide him more pleasure. His length twitched against your palm the more you rubbed. Carmy had lost all sense of his own ministrations grinding into your hand while still on top of you, he could feel himself close to ecstasy the feel of your warm body underneath him making him lose all control.

“Ba-Baby stop.” You froze immediately forcing your hormones under wrap, Carmy’s comfortability your priority.

“Are you okay Carm?” The worry in your voice was obvious as you removed your hand from its grip on him.

“Ye-yeah, I just want to please you right now.” Carmy’s hand moved to grip your rib cage thumb running back and forth against your under boob, “Can I continue showing my appreciation.” The slight desperation in his voice caused you to rapidly nod your head.

Carmy gave you a small shy smile, moving to kiss the spot he had been tracing during this time. His lips painted across your whole torso, paying extra attention to your stomach, ideas he wasn’t ready to give merit to racing through his mind as he did so.

Finally, he paused at your hips, the solid cotton panties you wore obscured his path, nose caressing the front of your panties as he took in a deep breath allowing your aroma to invade his senses. “Are you going to take off my panties, Carmy?” The condescending tone in your voice went straight to his throbbing cock.

He nodded, wasting no time in peeling the fabric from its home around your hips, ready to replace it with his bare hands. Carmy raised to his haunches, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of your naked body sprawled so prettily across his bed. All of you on show just for him.

Carmy returned to his previous task lips pressing wet delicate kisses into each of your hips bones, a lingering one placed at the base of your pelvis before turning his attention to your thighs. Lips trailing down your leg special attention paid to the crook of your knees and ankles.

Carmy’s eyes found yours as he placed the last kiss on your right ankle, both of your pupils blown from the sequence of events that had just taken place.

You beckoned Carmy forward urging him to find you once again. As he drew closer you grabbed one of his hands placing it on your right breast before moving it down so it caressed the rest of your torso, and down your pelvis finally stopping before the place you needed his touch most.

This was your way of giving him an out, the two of you could stop right here if he wanted to, the slight nod of his head told you otherwise.

Your grip on his hand changed as you grabbed his forefinger and middle finger, your free hand parting your lower lips as you traced his fingers through your slick, a filthy moan escaping into the bedroom as Carmy’s calloused fingers finally stroked you.

“Do you feel that Carmy?” He nodded his head, eyes not leaving yours for a minute. “It's all for you, you made me feel this good.”

You moved his fingers lower watching his face as you glided his two fingers into you, biting your lower lip at the hunger in you that was finally being tended to.

Carmy’s mouth fell open as he watched the ecstasy wash over your face, lost in the feeling of touching you in the most intimate way he had ever touched anyone before. His head dropped, eyes watching as you slowly swallowed his fingers, in and out the movement making him achingly hard.

Carmy’s lips dropped to your ear a shy whisper caressing your ear, “I want to be inside you.” The vulnerability in Carmy’s voice caused you to bite your lip, satisfied that he was finally speaking up about what he wanted.

“You are.” You teased him, clenching around his digits as his eyes drank you in.

You let out a whine as he removed his fingers from your grip, hand pressing your hip into the bed as he stared you down. “Please…I want this…with you.” The words unsaid weighing heavily between you two.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, stroking himself as you watched and waited for your instructions. You motioned for him to lay atop you more noses brushing as he got into position, “I’ll guide you, but I need you to go slow okay, it’ll be a tight fit.”

Carmy nodded his head, neither of you daring to ask about any contraception too lost in the thoughts of finally connecting in ways the two of you had only dreamed of.

You would come to regret the consequences of this decision later.

A smile split your lips before you surged up to capture Carmy’s lips, needing to distract yourself.

You guided him to your entrance only allowing the tip to go in to not overwhelm Carmy. Your mouth fell open in the shape of an ‘o’ as Carmy eagerly thrust into you, your hand raised to his shoulder to stop his movements.

“Carm, slowly, please.” His eyes met yours taking in the slight pain that his intrusion had caused, he nodded hand raising to cup your cheek.

“You look so beautiful like this.” A tender moment was shared between the two of you as you urged Carmy to continue his journey, shuddered moans escaping the both of you as he reached the hilt.

The feeling of finally being full with Carmy made you emotional, both of you just taking a moment to gaze at each other. Appreciating the finality of this all, Carmy leaned down to kiss a tear running down your cheek that escaped, his own eyes welling up, neither of you could find the right words to cement how much this moment meant to the two of you.

Carmy pulsed inside you the movement caused you to clench around him, “You did so good for me Carmy.” The praise went straight to his cock, eyes rolling back at how good a few words made him feel.

“Can you move for me, Carm, it’ll make us both feel good.” The soft thrust of his hips was enough for you.

He continued the slow motion of his hips, eyes connected with yours as the ghost of those three words he struggled to say filtered between the two of you. Your hand raised to wipe the single tear sliding down his cheek.

Nothing in the world could take this moment from the two of you. If Aphrodite could tell the story of your love she would describe it as a tangible heartbreaking thing always growing, and most times fleeting. Something both you and Carmy could touch, feel, and breathe. The love filtering between the two of you was clear as day to anyone who had a heart.

The warm muscular hand pressed into the flesh of your hip bone driving you crazy. The fingers pressed into you harder and harder with each accompanying thrust. One hand pressed into the pillow by your head keeping the body atop of you from crushing you under its weight. You appreciated the cautionary position, but you had longed for this connection for what felt like ages and you would gladly welcome the weight of the perspiring chest burying you further into the mattress.

A golden gleam caught your eye taking you away from how the tattooed knuckles flexed against your hip every few seconds. You looked to see his golden chain dangling back and forth above your face, taunting you. The sway of the metal matched the rocking motion of his hips, the synchronicity of the two things driving you absolutely wild. Eyes concentrated on the gold chain it was almost like a switch was flipped in you and the catalyst was that fucking gold chain.

Your eyes moved to his face, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. You parted your lips his intense gaze causing you to clench down on him unconsciously, his eyes rolling back as his hand left its spot on your hip traveling up your torso thumb softly brushing over your nipple as it found its destination cupping your cheek with such intensity you were sure the shape of his thumb would be imprinted onto your jaw.

His eyes found yours once more, his thumb moving a few inches to softly caress your bottom lip. Your mouth opened on instinct to leisurely suck on his digit a hoarse ‘Fuck’ leaving the warm body that was making you feel so good. You released his thumb, feeling it tug at your bottom lip as his hand found its way back to your cheek.

You watched him above you, the ecstasy in his eyes warming your skin, you’d do anything to be able to please him if he always looked at you in that way. The flash of gold from his chain caught your attention again, the angle of his thrust causing you to gasp, a softly whispered moan of “Carmy,” leaving your lips. Carmy’s chain hovered above your open mouth begging to be taken between your teeth, you appeased your desires, your tongue latching onto the chain as you brought it to settle between your teeth. Carmy’s hips fucking into you at a slightly faster pace, your leg wrapping around his waist the heel of your foot pressing into his back to bring the two of you impossibly closer.

“Fuck-Baby, shit!” Watching Carmy struggle for words had never been as sexy as it was at that moment. Knowing that you were the cause of his incoherent muttering.

“Please, Carmy,” another gasp ripped through you, your teeth losing hold of Carmy’s signature gold chain. “Mmm yes, Carmen. Just like that.” You settled for whispering in his ear, the new position you had chosen had his head resting against your collarbone, his ear directly next to your mouth. You could feel Carmy’s hand moving from your cheek to clench your jaw between his thumb and remaining fingers. His hand moved your head to reveal your neck the feeling of soft wet kisses making a path to your ear, Carmy’s thrust slowing slightly.

You could feel his breath against your cheek, the soft whine he let out as your cunt clenched around him. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “Say that again.” His rough voice traveled through you, the thumping of your clit beating faster and faster.

“Just like that.” You moaned wanting to please him as much as he wanted to please you.

His fingers dug into your chin, the roughness of his touch causing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips. “Sa-say my name?” The request made your head spin.

“Carm-,” Carmy’s hand returned to its earlier position holding himself above you causing your leg to drop back to the bed.

“N-no,” the strain in his voice was evident as he tilted your head down to stare directly into your eyes. “M-my name sa-say it. Please.”

You bit your lip his whiny plea going straight to your clit. Your hand reachesdup to match his fingers gripping his chin firmly. Your blown pupils searching his wide doe eyes. It was hard to distinguish where the blue began and the black ended. Your faces were inches apart, you could tell from his breathing that your grip on his chin stirred something inside him. The soft rocking of his hips into yours caused your bottom lips to caress each other in the rhythm he had set.

“Carmen.” The syllables of his name left your mouth in a wanton moan, there was a moment where the thrusting of Carmy’s hips came to a slow stop before he surged forward and messily captured your lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans. Carmy’s hips began rutting into yours, the speed and intensity sending you both into a spiral. Your hand lost its grip on his chin to slither between your bodies matching Carmy’s pace and applying it to your clit.

The grip on your chin was gone as Carmy’s hand followed the path yours had previously taken sending a soft squeeze to your breast. “Te-teach me how.” God you could’ve cum from that sentence alone. You began rapidly nodding your head before placing your hand atop his own guiding his index and middle finger into generously massaging your clit.

“Car-Carmen, don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your voice leaves you in a sharp cry.

“Yeah? Is this good?” Your unabashed moan did more to answer Carmy’s question than any words could.

“Carmeee, I’m gonna come, please.” The banging of the headboard against the wall an indication of just how fast Carmy was thrusting into you.

“Whe-where should I-,” You could hear the slight panic in Carmy’s voice, assuming he was on the cusps of an orgasm as well.

“In me Carmy jus- all of it.” His fingers pressed into your clit going at a pace your brain couldn’t keep up with.

The speed of Carmy’s breathing increased. His head finding its way back into the crook of your neck, lips scattering kisses across your neck, “I’ll give it to you all. M’ gonna give you everything.” The sound of Carmen’s voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he had intended anyone else’s ears to hear it.

Whatever Carmen’s intentions his words were the last thing you needed to hear before bliss took over your senses. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, the intensity causing loud moans to escape your lips, clenching Carmy’s cock so hard you were sure it must’ve been painful.

Riding the high of your orgasm, Carmen’s deep drawn-out groan vibrated into your neck as you felt him give two final rapid thrusts before the dam he had been holding back finally burst inside you. You felt his thrust slow down as he began peppering kisses across your face, “Thank you, thank you.” His voice trailed off into a whisper before his full body weight settled into you.

Now that the bed was no longer threatening to put a hole through his wall, the only sound filling the bedroom was the panting breaths you and Carmy were letting out.

Carmy looked up at you, the wetness on his cheeks matching yours. His forehead leaned against yours the vulnerability the two of you had for each other on full show. Breaths of love were shared between you as your lips gently touched. You knew the words you wanted to say at this moment, felt them so deep in your soul that your tears wouldn’t cease their downpour.

But you also knew how flighty the beautiful man in front of you was, it hurt but you would once again have to swallow your love for this man to ensure he remained in your life.

You laughed as Carmy hovered atop of you the Polaroid he gifted you in his hands the device raised to his eye. Your arm was thrown over your face the fact that the two of you were in this position at all still mind blowing . Carmy nudged your arm, he had been snapping photos of you for a while now, both of you ignoring the fact that he should have been getting ready for work instead of laying with your naked body barely covered under him.

“Show me that smile, pretty girl,” you slowly moved your arm, the smile splitting your face hard to control. “You seem to like my chain so much, I want to remember what you look like in it.” Carmy could be devilish when he wanted to, the way he would sometimes gain confidence and say what was on his mind, throwing you for a loop.

Your eyes left the camera in his hand as you stared at his face, so enchanted with who Carmy was as a person. Only being jolted out of your trance as the Polaroid fluttered out of the camera and landed on the center of your chest.

Carmy moved the camera smiling down at you before picking up the photo and examining it, the corner of his lips ticking up in a half smile. He placed the picture on the other pillow where all the other Polaroids were sprawled out. You watched as he set the camera down next to your head cupping your jaw before leaning down and pressing a firm kiss into your forehead a mumbled ‘Perfect’ escaped his lips.

“Will you take a picture with me Carmy,” your words came out shyly hoping he would agree. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck planting a small kiss on your tattoo before moving to lay next to you in the bed.

You reached over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before grabbing the camera from its spot by your head. You raised it watching as the soft smile graced Carmy’s face, your eyes not wanting to leave the perfect view of his side profile that you had fallen in love with, finger accidentally slipping, the sound of the camera shutter filled the space between you too.

Carmy pulled the photo out waiting for it to develop as he looked in your direction. A wide grin took over his face just by looking at you, your hand began lowering the camera before his hand shot out and raised your hand, and the camera back up quickly pressing your finger into the button to capture this moment in time.

You let him grab the camera from your hands before he placed it on the nightstand, once again holding your face in place as the two of you shared your softest kiss yet.

— — — —

You watched as Carmy maneuvered around his room slipping into a clean pair of chef whites, he was late and you could tell he was panicking on the inside but didn’t want to worry you. The two of you had wasted away in the shower washing each other's bodies and holding each other under the hot spray of water. Neither of you wanted to leave the confines of the shower, knowing your time together was finally expiring.

You sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them, a fresh pair of panties, and his deep green crew neck from last night your only form of clothing. The tension between the two of you had been broken the moment Carmy realized just how behind schedule he was, shoving reality down your throat as the game of pretending the two of you had been playing was finally snuffed out.

Carmy’s eyes landed on you in his rush clocking the glaze of your eyes, head not rationalizing why you might be upset at the moment. Finally gathering all his necessities he rushed over to you kneeling in front of you pressing one last kiss onto your forehead.

“I’ll be home soon, yeah.” You closed your eyes, the words breaking your heart into pieces.

“Yeah, be safe okay?” Carmy smiled, capturing your lips in his for the last time tonight hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.

The two of you separated small side smiles mirroring each other, both of you knew that Carmy would return home to an empty apartment tonight, but neither of you would voice that truth.

You followed him to the front door needing to see him off before your return to Chicago. He opened the door lingering between the door and the hallway hand gripping yours before pressing a soft kiss into the pulse point at your wrist.

You shared small smiles as Carmy made his way to leave, sending you one last wave before he disappeared down the hallway.

Your closed the door, forehead pressing into it as you stood there trying to gain your bearings, doing your best to control your tears as you knew this moment was inevitable.

A soft “I love you, Carmen.” Breathed into the empty apartment soft enough for it to feel like a ghost had whispered those words and not you.

But not quiet enough that the man who returned on the other side of the door missed the declaration.

Heart thudding in his chest. His hand ready to turn the keys in the doorknob dropped to his side. His feet shuffled backward as he took one last glance at the door before reverting to his journey to work.

He could go one day without his signature chain that he had so lovingly placed around your delicate neck.

a/n: idk what to say really…enjoy : ) [actually no this is my first smut so please let’s learn from carmy’s mistakes and don’t come for me 😉] i’m like the only person on the planet who thinks i’m funny that’s how laughable it is 😭

taglist: @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @r0s3mm @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @saturnheart @recklessgiraffelife @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

please message me if you’d like to be removed from the tag list

#all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fic #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut

784 notes · View notes