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musedblues · 3 months

Text

All Things Must Pass

a/n: IDK CHAT this is 100% projection. long story short, i promised @almightyellie and @userjohndeacon a sessa fic, started it, then proceeded to have the worst june ever. and i accidentally ended up turning this entire plot into my therapy. sorry for the devastation but... happy ending?

description: since starting college angus became your very best friend. just as you begin to wrap up your academic career, shit hits the fan for everyone. friends to lover's type shit but make it excruciating. angus x fem reader.

warnings: explicit sexual situations, death, mentions of suicidal ideation, brief scene ft. harassment, over all morbid tone. God bless whoever takes the time to put up with this plot lmao

18k

MINORS DNI

///

The Party

"Would you hurry up! I want to get there before all the good booze is gone." Angus drummed on his steering wheel as you rushed into his passenger seat. He'd been honking outside your dorm for five minutes, despite the couple times you poked your head out the window to yell at him that you were coming.

"I got ready later than I wanted, I was actually trying to study. You know we're at college to learn shit, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm trying to learn how to get drunk fast tonight. Every moment of this precious life is a lesson to be learned if you let it, kid." Angus jested, as if being a few months younger mattered in your mid-twenties.

"You used to be fun, Angus. You used to be so carefree. You used to bitch so much less profoundly. That philosophy class has done a number on you." You laughed as you teased him, watching your friend grin in response. Angus was your favorite pain in the ass. You were his, he said so often. He was your ride to everywhere. You were his built-in tutor for everything. He was your emergency contact on every official form. All because he was lost the first weekend here; and you just happened to learn directions to the furthest class on campus moments before he asked an ever-emptying hallway of students to show him the way.

"Look. This is the last party Kiara is throwing before she graduates, and before our month of finals. I just want to have the best night possible." Angus reasoned. He went on to ramble about how uptight you had been about school lately, and how you needed to let lose tonight all the same. Angus was right.

Your first year of college was spent in elation, when you realized you'd finally escaped the confines of your family. None of them ever had your best interest in mind, and rushing off to freedom was how you spent your 20th autumn. Your second year of college was spent really nailing down your major, hedging all your bets on studying something serious that would keep you afloat your entire life. Something you could depend on for yourself and no one else. But the fatigue of your intense studies set in by the third year, leading you to seek out more extra curriculars to take the edge off.

It was Kiara's idea to take dance lessons. She was your partner in every tango and waltz. She was your biggest encouragement to take the extra ballet class. And she'd been really pushing you to audition for the team that would travel to Europe to compete in an annual competition. Between your friend, and your instructor, you'd been swayed to stay longer at practices- and to work harder for auditions at the start of the summer. But that meant your studies became even more of a challenge, with your brain focused on achieving more goals than you'd set out to tackle.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" Angus rallied, as he pulled against the curb of Kiara's townhouse.

"Having a good time!" You enunciated each word as Angus chanted along with you, smiling his stupidly perfect smile. You'd always loved the sight of him happy, carefree. Happy looked especially good on your friend Angus.

You trailed behind your friend as he bound toward the steps of the party, and held open the front door for you. The air was misty with hints of rain, summer couldn't settle in quick enough.

Kiara's home was big enough for four or more people, but she planned to share it only with her cousin- a lawyer on her way from Chicago, whom none of you had yet to meet. To the left of the entrance hall was the living room; packed with acquaintances and strangers clinking red solo cups together as a Hendrix record played. To the left was the kitchen, where Kiara stood showing off an island full of drinks and organized snacks. Her springy brown curls were pulled back in a neat ponytail and she was dressed better than anyone, as always.

"There they are!" She smiled and pointed to you and Angus, before waving you over to her massive refrigerator.

"Extra cold beer and expensive liquor for friends only." Kiara swept her hand to suggest you pick your poison, as she swatted away a stranger from reaching in all at once. You laughed and thanked her for being extra thoughtful, not surprised by her set up. She was the most detail-oriented human you'd ever met. Once Angus had a bottle of beer in either hand and you were content with the last of some old chardonnay, you followed Kiara out to the patio.

There beyond the steady flame from the fire pit, sat Soren and Tom. Both already high off their asses. They waved as you approached and lit up a fresh joint. And just like that your group was glued together. You'd all wound up in San Fransico from different parts of the country. And you'd all ended up tight knit throughout a year of run ins at pubs and races to class, despite the difference in some of your grades. Fate continuously lobbed you each together. And over the past few years; time always carved out at least one day a week where the five of you could hunch over laughing past midnight like a band of fools.

"How's your job at the cafe going Soren? Paying your book fees back in a timelier manner now?" You rose a brow and looked to your friend. His blonde curls hung to his shoulders; his eyes red by way of the night's events that had only just begun. How he was dependable enough to hold down a job you were unsure, but impressed by all the while.

"I haven't been late once in the two months I've worked there. For work, or my fees." The guy boasted, taking a hit from the blunt he kept promising to pass around but never did. Your group set down their bottles and glasses to give Soren a small round of applause.

"What about you Kiara? Are you set up for your internship?" Angus asked, both beers already gone. He rose from his perch on a lounge chair to reach in a nearby cooler for another drink.

"Oh yeah. I start next week, and I graduate three days later. It's getting real, gang. We're getting grown up." Kiara pouted out of sentiment, and nervousness, you noticed.

"One day closer to death." Tom concluded, "Gotta make the most of it!" The guy lunged, stealing the blunt that Soren had been hogging, laughing at the blonde's appalment. You admired Tom's waggish disposition, eagerness to keep you all on your toes. But even dark eyed, dark humored Tom started to lament about how fast time was flying by this third year of school.

"I'm gonna graduate, get a house and a few cats. I'm gonna start working at the vet clinic and be rich enough to start my own in ten years." Tom declared, so sure of himself. You watched your friend mean every word that came out of his mouth, which was rare for the often-unserious fellow.

"Did you know," Angus began to rally, raising his bottle to make a point. "In Egypt when a family's cat died, they all shaved their eyebrows off as a sign of respect. Haven't figured out why yet. But I was reading-"

You groaned a laugh, decidedly tuning out the rest of Angus' sentance. You loved that he always had a recently studied story to share. They fascinated you, usually. But tonight, Angus rambles about history repeating itself was filling you with dread. You weren't keen to consider the past tonight. And your own lack of clarity about the future was growing vaster every day.

Remembering your promise to let loose here, you politely excused yourself from Angus' on-going speech to find more to drink. Surely the fridge inside had something strong enough, something to really set you off for the evening.

A bottle of whiskey seemed promising but there were no mixers. You settled for a couple shots, and chatted with a girl who lived down the hall from you. She did two more shots with you and introduced you to her girlfriend. The pair were nice enough together but wouldn't shut the fuck up about a recent trip to France and their decision to move there. Couldn't anyone talk about anything besides their plans for life, tonight?

In the living room, strangers picked the worst vinyl's from Kiara's collection to spin. You sighed as some physics major beamed at the sound of Neil Diamond groaning from the speakers.

Thank God you hadn't been left to linger too long alone. Angus was tapping at your shoulder eventually, holding up a bottle of your favorite rum you hadn't realized was available. His smile grew mischievously as he beckoned you to follow him away from the crowd. This was when the real fun always began.

The spare most bedroom was home to a smaller record player and a more prized collection of vinyl's. Kiara never minded your spinning these, knowing how delicate and careful you were with them. How you were more dazzled by some of her favorite collections than she was, on occasion.

Angus was quick to lock the door, keeping out the people who inevitably started knocking to use the en suite bathroom. Kiara had two more. They'd figure that out. You chose an older album, struggling to turn it up louder than the shit they were blaring from the living room. Angus had already taken an absurd swig of rum from the bottle by the time you'd finished fidgeting with the volume dial.

"Geeze, save some for the rest of us buddy." You snatched the drink for your own turn, already buzzed, but looking to see stars tonight. Angus was well on his way, it seemed, laughing a little too hard at your jest.

"Finally, good music and decent booze. And you, I guess." You smiled up at Angus, taking a big drink as he grinned back your way. He accepted the bottle back as you began to drone on about the shit music the crowd was playing. You rambled about how you feared they lacked a certain amount of passion for talent. You lamented still how easy it was for people to know passion better than you ever could. How unequivocally everyone spoke tonight about their passions and futures and plans. But how even given your efforts to want the same things, you didn't feel that same certainty everyone else seemed to.

"You gotta get out of here." Angus stalled before you, tapping his pointer finger against your temple. He was always getting you to snap out of your silly spinning what if's and why's.

"Sorry. I know, we're supposed to be having fun." You remarked, grabbing back the bottle to catch up to Angus level of inebriation. He went on to make some foul retort about passion, a joke about the last time he managed a one night stand.

"That's the same gusto you're so proud of that got you only frowns the day you asked out three poor freshman before lunch."

"Win some you lose some." Angus grinned, taking a generous swig before passing the bottle to you. You were both well drunk by then and enjoying the solitude from the masses. Kiara threw the best parties because she had the biggest house. And that gave you a lot of opportunities to seek out space all the while, which was the more valued asset, you thought. Your longsuffering roommate was always in the way. And if your one was an obstacle, Angus' three others were too much to bear. Nights like these were sacred for so many reasons.

"I'm better with silent queues, anyway. I've never successfully talked my way into a date."

You chuckled in your friend's direction, rolling your shoulders to the beat of the new vinyl you picked out. You dreamed a little of adding this song to the list of ones to choreograph in the future.

"No, I'm serious! The people I've successfully hooked up with in college have all happened when I decide to keep the talking to a minimum. A little body language goes a long way, I swear!"

"Angus you know I love you, but I'm struggling to believe you." He was too awkward. Not in a nerdish way. But something about his countenance could be enigmatically naive. He'd been through a lot in his young life, enough to hold a certain wisdom in his posture. But he still seemed to have so much to learn.

"No?" Angus stifled a laugh, seeming to make a decision with a nod. "Well what about this?" He set the bottle of rum down on a chest of drawers. Angus turned, giving you a sly look over his shoulder, before spinning to face you all the way, letting his eye's rake up your figure. He did have the most alluring set of eyes, and you liked to imagine what was going through his head as he peered across every inch of your body.

"You come here often, darlin'?" Angus rose a playful brow, reaching to sling an arm over your shoulder. You huffed a sorry laugh and shook your head in disapproval.

"It worked until I talked, didn't it?" Angus bit his lip, lifting his brows again to get you to giggle. Even if it did, you'd never tell him.

You drank more and argued over what records to play. You laid on the floor near the speakers and settled into silence when a particularly good song came on. Angus hummed along and made you smile. You drank more and made each other laugh until you cried, slumped against the wall by the loo. Music still pulsed from downstairs, but you noticed fewer voices rallied from downstairs, fewer knocks on your door too.

Then you mistakenly noticed the clock.

"Oh God Angus it's midnight?" I have a test in the morning." You slumped further down the wall you'd been leaning against, covering your head in your hands. "I was already prepared to fail, now I'm gonna be tired and stressed."

"Hey," Angus called, reaching out to pull your hands from your face. "Look, you either know it or you don't. No amount of studying or sleeping now is gonna help. You've already studied so much. I'm sure you'll do fine. Really!"

You sighed and said you knew he was right. But you couldn't understand why you felt so much more unsure than all of your other friends. You arguably studied hardest out of the five of you. You had the same goals. But Tom seemed so certain that his ten-year plan would work out, no matter any set backs. And Kiara was already accepted into her dream position. Angus never complained once about fearing a test or a grade. And Soren God bless him, took it day by day, but he was doing reasonably well for lack of planning. You voiced to Angus how it scared you that life didn't always turn out perfectly despite all your best efforts.

Your friend frowned, and seemed to struggle for a response. Maybe he was too drunk. Or maybe there just was no answer. With the shake of his dark curls Angus decided to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, something he did when there was nothing left to say. No advice to give. But when he still wanted to show his support. His closeness was a comfort like no other. He knew just how to be near you. And then you realized he was right in a way, before. Angus was pretty good when it came to wordless connection.

As you realized this, you broke from your leaning against him to cast your eyes to his face. Angus blinked, letting his arm stay draped around you, letting his fingers draw patterns against your shoulder. His lips formed a small smile as Angus watched you consider his features. His eye's stayed easily peering into yours, and somehow it was like you really saw him for the first time.

"I'm afraid I believe you now." You huffed a humorless laugh, drunk enough to speak without thinking. And how Angus was quick enough to register what you meant, you didn't know. But you saw his eyes look into yours with an understanding you'd never uncovered in your three years of friendship. It might've given you a shiver up your spine. Or you might've just been that drunk. But the longer you looked into Angus' eyes and the quieter he remained, the faster your heart started beating. How much had you had to drink?

You couldn't tear your gaze from his, noticing his mouth begin to move to speak, but no words came. Maybe he stalled, or maybe he was still trying to find the right thing to say. Or maybe he was that drunk. But there was something happening to you that hadn't happened in the entirety of your knowing Angus. Your heart rate had never quickened, drunk or not, in his presence. Your mind had never gone so blank, staring into his eyes. You could've gotten into your head about it. But there was no time to think. Because all of a sudden, he was kissing you.

It seemed to come out of nowhere after all these years. But it seemed so obvious in the moment. His lips stalled on yours as his fingers moved to brush against your neck, the ghost of a clutch. It was as if he couldn't move until you pushed him away or kissed him back. You chose the latter.

You let your lips bruise into his. You let your hand fall above his knee. You let your fingers curl into a grip. And that seemed to give Angus the green light to really kiss you. His lips parted and his hand molded around the back of your neck and his other arm dared to encircle you. You let your free hand find his shoulder. As Angus flexed to pull you closer to him, you leaned in to kiss him fiercer, knocking the guy over in the process.

Angus let both his hands tangle in your hair as you kissed him against the bedroom floor. It seemed your hands and his moved without a thought or a care, aided by alcohol no doubt. Your fingers found themselves dancing along the hem of Angus t-shirt as his traveled to grab at your hips. The record that was playing was skipping and scratching, begging to be turned. But your every focus was on your very best friend right now, how far his tongue was down your throat, how much in a hurry you felt to tear his jeans off.

You couldn't believe how fast it was all happening. You couldn't quiet process that Angus slender fingers were creeping underneath your skirt. You couldn't seem to kiss him hard enough. It wasn't long before he rolled to pin you against the floor. It wasn't long before he was actually shagging you in the spare bedroom of your friend's townhome. Angus slammed his hips into yours and breathed hard against your neck. You let your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he finished, and strained to catch your breath as he collapsed at your side.

If you were confused about things before, you were confounded at this point. But it was one in the morning. And you had a test to take. And no time to think of anything else at all.

"I'm sorry for doubting you earlier." You broke the deafening silence in the room by turning to grin at Angus. He laughed, a real but breathy and exhausted chuckle. Silence settled in again, until you suggested getting up off the floor. At a languid pace, Angus moved to fasten his trousers, and stumbled into a crawl. You managed to move up right faster and decidedly dragged your friend toward the bed in the middle of the room. Sloshed and spent, you each fell asleep rather quickly. But you didn't drift off without a deepening storm of questions brewing in the back of your mind.

///

A knocking stirred you from dreaming. But the harsh early sun from the window caused your eyes to snap shut in a hurry. This bed wasn't yours. Angus was next to you. His curls tickling your cheek. His arm like a heavyweight across your stomach.

Despite the knocking, your eyes couldn't keep open. Your brain still clung to dreams.

You relished the way your friends body molded against yours. You struggled to recall the last time you felt so calm. So relaxed. It was too easy to fall asleep again.

And then you were shaken to reality once more.

"Wake up, please-" Angus was whispering your name with urgency. He wasn't at your side, not like before. He was standing. His arms no longer held you close. But his hand clutched your arm, and it stayed there as you sat up to meet his eyes. They were bloodshot. His brows were pushed in, darkening his gaze. His usual faint grin was turned into a frown.

Angus swallowed and dug his fingers into your shoulder.

"You gotta get up. Tom's dead."

///

Kiara was slumped against the kitchen table when Angus finally got you out of bed. You rushed to her side in a panic, as she kept her head down. Angus stalled near the entry way of the kitchen, hands on his head, breaking out into a pace.

Soren was hanging up the phone on the wall, he'd just called off work for the very first time ever. You wanted to tell him you were proud of him for not having done so sooner. But now wasn't the time. One of you was missing. And he wasn't coming back.

Kiara lifted her head from the table, her once pinned curls now disheveled. Her face was wet with tears as she sucked in a deep breath.

"Angus can you tell the strangers sleeping on my sofa to get the fuck out, please?" Kiara's voice was hoarse and worn. Soren sat across from you as Angus left the room on a mission, and you begged someone to tell you what the hell was going on.

Kiara said she opened her door to the police at five this morning. She was Tom's emergency contact, after all. She said he decided to walk home instead of crashing here. He only lived a block away. He should have made it. But he was drunk. And a pickup truck didn't hit their breaks in time. And just like that, none of it mattered. His bed was never slept in. His degree was never earned. His plans out the window. A fifth seat at the pub and dinner table permanently empty.

Angus returned to announce he'd gotten everyone to leave. But a well-meaning girl straggled in the kitchen behind him, asking the group of you if there was anything she could do for you. Angus turn to yell that she go like he so kindly asked her to in the first place. Soren started sobbing then, slumping from the chair at your side, his blonde locks weighing your lap down. You sat in shock, carding your fingers through his hair. You locked eyes with Angus across the room, watching the way his teeth dug into his lip to keep from crying. You had a lot to talk about. But now wasn't the time.

As you turned to look to Kiara, your eyes fell onto the clock.

"I- I have a test." Your voice cracked; a cry lodged in your throat that you weren't ready to let escape.

"What professor? I can help you get an extension, if you want?" Kiara sniffled.

"I... I don't want that. I want to get it over with. I don't want to leave here but I don't- I don't know."

"Hey, it's okay-" Kiara reached to rest her hand on your forearm. You struggled to breathe but kept rambling despite yourself.

"I don't want to put it off, I'll be way more stressed than I already am, but I don't want to leave here, Kiara..." You begged her to help you make sense out of your panic. That's what she was good at.

"It's okay." She demanded with authority, nodding to silence you. "Go take it. Come back when you're finished? I'd really like for us to all be together tonight." She sucked in a shaky breath and cast her gaze to Angus, who was nodding in agreeance. Soren lifted his head from your lap, face red and eyes glossy. He mentioned needing a change of clothes, barely able speak without breaking down again.

"I'll take you to campus." Angus gestured toward you. "And I'll grab your stuff, Soren. Stay with Kiara and we'll be back to help clean this shit up and decide what to do next." Angus asked where his friends dorm key was, decidedly designating himself the errand runner.

Kiara steadied her breathing and thanked him, Angus was always clear minded in crisis. Then she announced that she planned to call Tom's parents. If not to break the news to them before the police, then to find how the family planned to send him off.

Your beautiful hoarse voiced friend demanded you go do your best, as you stood to leave. You gave her a crooked grimace of a smile, every sense clouded with shock and confusion and dismay.

Angus followed you out to his car, where he drove you back to campus in complete silence. Neither of you said a word, neither of you made a sound. There was too much to talk about and not nearly enough of the right kind of time.

///

Finals Month

You failed that test. Miserably. Maybe you should have waited. But you knew the stress of waiting would've worn on you just as much as the shock had, the morning you took it. That night you spent at Kiara's was quiet.

That night you all let the sound of dinner cooking echo through the house. That night you all sat around the living room, trying not to fixate on the spot on the couch where Tom usually sat with his legs crossed. That night Angus held your hand, and the way it usually would've brought you comfort was then matched with conflict. Still, you watched as his fingers tapped against your knuckles and clung to his grip for all it was worth. Despite the way your nerves danced on end, you held his hand. Despite the missing friend, the rest of you sat together.

When you found out you failed the test the next day, you weren't surprised. But you were motivated to get more serious than ever. You only stopped studying the rest of the week, to make meals. And when you finished the first round of finals, you let dance class be your reward.

Kiara was there at the studio, but she wasn't dressed for it. She only wanted to wait up to give you a lift to the pub after, having called you all to plan a meeting this evening. As dancers flooded into the building, you thanked Kiara for coming to watch you, for being there somehow. You promised to dance hard enough for the both of you, that practice.

Then it was time to start the lesson, relishing the way the music pulsed through the floor. You'd never been so thankful for a hobby, it came just in time for you to clear your head. As you moved your body to the beat of some Bowie song, it wasn't like you were coming to any grand conclusions. But something about locking in and moving with the music made your mind stop racing all the while.

And then there was the part of you that savored the compliments you received when you landed a spin or were asked to offer instruction to others. You were really fucking good at this, and you knew it.

When class was over, you struggled to ride the high of the adrenaline dancing usually gave you. The music stopped and you had no reason left to pound your feet into the ground, nowhere left to direct your grief and sadness and worry. But then Kiara was boasting about how well you did and sing songing her familiar plea for you to try out for the European competition. The instructor overheard and walked up to encourage you all the same.

"You really should. Auditions are in a month." The teacher flashed you his coy smile, letting his hand rest on the small of your back. He was like that. But you didn't mind. The thrill you got from his compliments as a leader outweighed the way his flirting could sometimes make you cringe.

"I'll think about it!" You assured, giving Kiara the 'let's get out of here' look.

///

At your usual pub, Angus and Soren were sat in silence, each casting despondent glances toward the table. A chair was empty between them. Funny how hard this kept getting. How often you were reminded that Tom was gone, and how shuddering it was to realize he wasn't coming back. You didn't realize how slowly grief worked. How every new day a creeping mourning swallowed your mind more wholly than the last.

Once seated, you flagged down a waiter for some drinks and frowned when Soren asked how your class went. You didn't really want to talk about it. It didn't seem important at all, all you could think to mention in the company of your friends was how one was gone. Wasn't that so fucked up?

"His mom called today. She says the funeral is tomorrow." Kiara came right out with it, causing everyone to cast their eyes toward her. She hadn't mentioned the phone call she had with Tom's parents when you all reconvened that night. No one had said much of anything at all, that night.

"What the fuck?" Soren spat. Tom was from Alaska. None of you had time to plan to be at a funeral in Alaska in less than 24 hours.

"This morning, she told me they had family in town for some other reason. And want to just 'get it over with' so, fuck us, I guess." Kiara released a shaky breath, turning to thank a waiter who slid glasses onto your high-top table.

"We can do something for him, just us." Angus spoke up, arms crossed tight around his body. He looked up for the first time since you got here and looked right at you. You smiled, glad to see him, content with his latest idea. Angus smiled back and kept his steady brown eyed gaze on yours. And for one fleeting moment you forgot you were being swallowed whole by sadness. But just a moment.

"Yeah. We should have a memorial. Anything you want me to bring?" Soren sat up, nodding over and over at the idea, glad for a progressive plan in his friend's honor.

"A bunch of fuckin' weed. It's what he would've wanted." Kiara laughed. And so did the rest of you.

The rest of the hour you spent drinking was full of a little more hope than any of you had felt in the past few days. You managed a few laughs from each other in the midst of planning a memorial. Through giggles, you all strived to turn conversation lighter. There was an unspoken chugging toward ending your hang out on the semblance of a high note. And you understood why. But something felt so wrong about laughing. Something felt so shameful about droning on about school, with each other. Didn't they feel that? How couldn't they? Would bringing this up kill the mood for better, or for worse?

You didn't know how to conduct yourself the longer you thought about it. Suddenly the whole world and the meaning of life stretch out before you and started to muddle together to fill you with dread.

"Hey." Angus voice was closer than before. You realized your friends were all getting up, and the dark eyed boy was standing beside the stool you sat in. "Hey, come on." Angus rose his finger to your temple and gave it a couple taps. That meant it was time to focus on something else entirely. Time to get out of your head. You nodded and stood to join him as he walked, watching the others head into the foggy night, holding the door open for you.

"It's the last Friday of the month you know." Angus spoke to you gently, his reminder catching you off guard. You didn't really know what to expect, from Angus now. You didn't really know what you expected from yourself, either.

"Oh, yeah."

"Do you... want me to come over?" He seemed to worry. The lanky brunet shifted the weight between his feet and let either of his eyes dart between yours. You saw his breath in the fog of the misty evening. You couldn't imagine ever telling him no.

"It's the last Friday of the month. You always come over. I just... almost forgot this time." You admitted. There had been a lot going on. And you hadn't really been paying attention to the calendar.

"Did you... forget? Or..."

"I forgot. Come on, let's go." You spoke confidently because you were telling the truth. But you realized what he'd alluded to... having recently fucked without acknowledging it in anyway. And you were not ready to have that conversation.

Angus rose his brows, shrugged his shoulders and decidedly stepped in time with you. You'd hoped he'd start talking about something else. But he didn't. He let an awkward silence weigh itself between you as he drove you to your dorm. Angus didn't speak the whole ride there. And neither did you. But he drove you home, and followed you in. And that counted for something, right?

Silence followed you each to the sofa, where you sat on the edge, staring at the blank telly screen.

"Should we watch something?" Angus finally called, leaned back against your decorative pillows with his arms crossed tight.

"I dunno." You realized. It was later than usual. Your roommate was asleep. You weren't sure how to act, alone with Angus now.

"Put on an album, maybe?" He suggested. His voice sounded light years away. And you couldn't figure out if it was because he was sat so far back. Or if he was upset with you. Or if you were simply starting to lose your mind.

"I dunno." You repeated. The upsettingly familiar weight of silence crept between the pair of you once more for what felt like a lifetime.

"We really should talk about it. Shouldn't we?" Angus spoke up, voice breaking up your minds spiral of thoughts that had been getting you nowhere.

You truly didn't know. There was too much happening you hadn't had time to process. A thousand new truths and realities danced around your brain, seeping down to quicken your heart rate. Even if you should've, you couldn't talk without crying. You actually couldn't help that tears started to pool in your eyes now, feeling demanding to free itself from within you.

Your elbows met your knees and your hands blocked out the light of the room. You tried to steady your breathing with a deep intake of air. But cries were all that released out, despite your attempt to bay your overwhelm.

You felt him shift at your side. Angus was up. You sat trying to pull yourself together as you heard Angus move about the room. Suddenly you sensed the telly was switched on and the lights were off.

"I'm sorry. Come here. I'm sorry." Angus called, his weight shifting the sofa once more. "We'll just watch whatever is on. I'm sorry." His hands grabbed to move you back toward him. Angus pulled you to rest at his side, and you couldn't help but accept the invitation. You rose your feet from the floor and buried yourself beside him, sniffling away your tears. Angus held you tighter than you ever recalled him having done before. Angus carded his fingers through your hair, and apologized again. Wasn't this enough? You wondered. Couldn't the pair of you just settle together without words? The more intently you latched against his form, the more purposefully Angus seemed to hold you. Wasn't that all either of you needed to know right now?

But he wouldn't stop apologizing.

"It's okay." You replied, pulling your face away from Angus' shoulder to meet his eye. Your friend wore a look of consternation, jaw clenched, brows furrowed. There was clearly so much he wanted to say. But he didn't. He just shook his head of curls, and pressed his lips together, casting his eyes to his lap. You brought a set of fingers to his jaw, turning his head to face yours.

"I promise, it's okay." You said again, nodding and letting your thumb brush across the apple of his cheek. You watched your friend of many years debate saying what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. You waited for Angus to stop shaking his head and just come out with it already. He'd been wondering if you should talk. And if he wanted too, he should've. Right?

"I just... I really want to kiss you again." Angus said, like he was certain to be condemned for admitting so. You felt your mouth try to grin despite the way your lips anxiously pursed. You watched the way Angus searched your expression for any kind of reaction. But you didn't give him much time before you leaned in to brush your lips against his. This kiss was delicate. This kiss was slow. Your hands did not wander. But you each shared the moment earnestly, for reasons you still weren't ready to uncover.

When Angus stalled to break your connection, he stayed close. His gaze was steady on your lips, as if he were trying to figure out why they were just pressed against his own. But you just couldn't talk about it tonight. So instead, it was your turn to pull Angus close, as you leaned back into the pile of throw blankets. You held Angus' head of curls against your chest as he decidedly let himself relax there.

You didn't know what show was playing. You didn't know what time it was, or when you both fell asleep. You didn't hear Angus leave the next morning. And you didn't know what you were going to do about the way his leaving broke your heart a little more than it'd already had been.

///

You spent the weekend working. Cleaning houses a couple days a week was enough to keep money in your pockets, especially if you had appointments in the rich neighborhoods. You blasted music through each house, and scrubbed to the beat. Like dancing, this was therapy. Every time you remembered Tom was dead, you'd scoured the grout a little harder. Every time you remembered the way Angus dug his fingers into your hips, and how much you liked it, you vacuumed with more gusto. Every time you remembered how poorly the results of your latest finals had been, you turned up the music.

Then came the memorial your friends set up.

It was perfect. You burned a fire in the pit out back, shared a couple joints, and went through old pictures. Each photo unlocked a memory someone had a story about. Kiara found a few flowers to plant around the evergreen near the corner. Flowers that would grow back every year. For Tom. Angus didn't say much that night. And you didn't either. And you could tell the other two noticed.

///

"Claire is finally completely moved in!" Kiara chirped. She sat across the dance floor with you, stretching her fingers to meet the tips of her toes. The townhouse she bought with her cousin in mind was finally home sweet home for both girls. "You'll have to meet her! Angus and Soren already have, I called them to help move a few heavier things."

"Yeah, sounds good." You struggled to respond, only half listening. Your brain was busy focusing on the way your body worked to stretch out every imperfection, every negative thought and feeling. But the way Kiara called your name next forced your undivided attention.

"Look, I get that things have been fucked up recently. You know I know that." Your friends voice shook a little, and a pain rang through your chest at the sound. She lost a friend too. "But you've been especially weird. What's going on, huh?" Kiara sounded almost angry. But then you recognized it was simply hurt spilling over. And you'd been caught. And you couldn't brush her off. Not when she was looking at you like that.

"It's just..." You breathed in, struggling to know where to start, totally unprepared to have been put on the spot here at the studio. And then your instructor was calling everyone to get ready for class. Thank God.

"Later, okay?" You stood, extending a hand for Kiara to grab. She did so and shrugged her way to the middle of the dance floor with a puzzled expression ever glued on you. And that's how it stayed all night. She watched your face for a crack in its resolve. You just danced. You turned every 'what if' away from your mind and let the music flood your system. You ignored Kiara's curious glances and danced like your life depended on it.

When the hour was up and the group was heading out, Kiara made a beeline for you. But so did your instructor.

"Stay later?" He beamed, nodding your way as he walked off, having already decided for you it seemed.

"I can wait up for you!" Kiara lifted her brows in a hopeful manner, stalling to put her shoes back on.

"I don't know how long I'll be." You realized. Halfway trying to get her to give up, and halfway telling the truth. You knew Kiara was simply trying to check in with you. But if you hadn't even been ready to talk to Angus about everything, it sure didn't feel right to bring it all up to Kiara on a whim.

"I don't mind waiting. We could go for drinks or something. I just think-"

"Kiara... no. Please, I honestly can't do this tonight. Not with you." You spoke a little too quickly, a little too fiercely. You immediately regretted shutting her out as the words spilled from your mouth. And then you watched your friends face turn into a grimace.

"Don't be cunty to me when all I'm trying to do is be there for you." Kiara spat back before bending down to pick up her shoes.

"Ki, I'm sorry-" You hurried to plea as she began to turn for the door.

"I'll call you when I'm less pissed off." She waved her hand for you to stay back, to stop following her toward the door. As she began to push out of the exit, she stalled to turn back and say one last thing. "No, actually, you need to call me when you get over yourself." And with that she was gone. And she was right. But you had absolutely no time to process that interaction before your instructor was snapping for your attention.

"You girls seem close." The man teased with a twisted sort of smile. You let out a huff of a laugh, uncertain how to otherwise respond to this man you knew absolutely nothing about outside of his dance credentials. He could kick higher than anyone you knew. And he always got a little too into the salsa, no matter his partner.

"Anyway, you know we're all dying for you to nail next month's audition for the traveling team. I wanted to share some pointers with you, if you're serious about try outs?" The man reveled, smiling as he waited for you to respond. The studio was so quiet without the chatter from the others. Without the thuds from their feet parading across the floor.

"Yeah, that would be so generous of you." You nodded. With your finals having gone horrifically so far, your newly forming plan was to nail this audition, hedge your bets on your newfound talent to land you a decent career while you were young and able.

For the next half hour, as Chopin's Nocturne No. 2 filled the room, your instructor was straightening your posture after spins. You ignore the way his hands lingered at the bend of your waist. He watched you glide from one movement to the next, praising what you got right and coming over to correct your mistakes. He turned your head in the right direction. He moved your arms to fan out more evenly. He let his fingers trail across your spine as he rambled about how important visible strength was to the judges.

"You'll want to be certain of your timing. And you'll have to be confident in every little flex of your finger." The man hummed, "But if you're looking to nail down a yes for your audition now," He said, reaching out to move you a little too forcefully toward your mark, his grasp remaining. "There is one thing you could do."

Oh hell no.

"Fuck you." You hissed, shoving the instructor's hands away from your hips and shuddering at the realization of his implication. Watching the man's face fall into a frown when he realized you couldn't be so easily persuaded gave you a new set of chills.

"Let me be frank. If you don't sleep with me, I won't vote for you, and you need each judges vote to get in." As he spoke, he reached a bold hand toward you. There was no question in your mind to hesitate before you extended your own set of digits to slap across his face.

"How fucking dare you." You spat, moving in a hurry to collect your things. Your shoes were still off and you dropped your sweater on your way out the door. But there was no chance in hell you were turning back for it. All you could do was sprint toward the main road, desperate for a cab.

This was all so fucked. You felt like you had absolutely nothing left to hold out hope for. You were failing school. You were pretty certain you'd ruined things with Angus because of a stupid drunken hook up. Kiara was pissed at you. Tom was dead. And you just had your only outlet for all this shit ruined by that creep of an instructor.

You couldn't stop thinking of the last thing you heard Tom declare. How he was so ready to graduate and get the cat he'd always wanted and a job of his dreams. How he had it all planned out, and how you knew it'd been going well enough to likely come together the way he'd hoped. But it was all for nothing. And here you were, living some actual Shakespearean level nightmare. Why were you the one spared by fate? The one without a stich of the future figured out for the better. It wasn't fucking fair, for you to keep this farce of a life in crippled traction. It wasn't fair for Tom to be dead. You couldn't even successfully catch a cab. The road was bare of traffic.

But you weren't left stomping down the pavement long before a set of headlights blinded your vision.

"What the hell are you doing?" Soren's recognizable lilt came booming from beyond his cranked down pickup window. You stopped in your tracks, squinting to see his car stalling near the sidewalk just before you. "Get in here!"

You weren't going to argue, this late, this cold. You must've looked a sight, shoeless and tear stained. Soren's passenger seat was cluttered, but it didn't take him long to toss the books and papers to the back seat.

"Where the fuck are you coming from? Why are you crying?"

"Cause life is fucked up Soren." You sniffled, finally putting your shoes on. Your friend started to drive off then, but wouldn't stop asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I'm fine. Thank you for the rescue."

He explained that he was coming home from work. He asked if he should take you home, or to Angus' dorm. And that made a new spring of angry hot tears pool in your gaze. It was all you could do to breathe steadily, before shaking away your emotion to finally answer your friend.

"I'm so sorry. It's just been a really shit day. And that's really saying something lately isn't it?" You laughed, despite yourself, and so did Soren. Though his eyes stayed curiously drifting from the road to your slump to the right of him.

"Kiara and I had a weird fight. And then I quit dance class. And I left my favorite sweater there." You whined, ultimately deciding you owned someone an explanation. And Soren had already accepted you in his ride in your sorry state.

"We can turn back! Do you want to get-"

"No." You demanded. "The instructor guy is a creep. I never want to see him again. And I don't want to see Angus. I just want to go home. Please."

Soren spoke your name lowly, begging to know more. But you couldn't. You just shook your head and thanked your friend again for the lift.

///

Claire

Kiaras cousin was a tall, sharp-witted model of a lawyer. She sat way to close to Angus on the loveseat, knees brushing. And he laughed way too hard at her jokes. It made you sick to watch the pair of them chuckle over a bottle of wine. What could they possibly have to laugh about? He was a brooding stick figure of a college student. And she was this blonde bombshell of an older woman. The pair of them colluding didn't make sense to you.

With the roll of your eye's you fled the living room for the kitchen, finding Kiara. She'd just finished perfecting another well made dinner.

"Hey." You cautioned meekly, finding your friend shutting the oven door. The room was warm from the heat of the appliance. The air was thick with the scent of spices and herbs. Kiara turned to you with a faint smile, stalling for you to do the talking. And you knew you needed to.

"I'm really sorry I never called, like you asked. And I'm sorry for being so nasty that night." You frowned, meaning every word. You hated that your upset had spilled out into sharp words Kiara never should've received.

"I'm sorry I called you cunty." Your friend shrugged before letting out a small chuckle. "But you can't keep shutting us out, babe."

Kiara's statement caught you off guard. You hadn't really realized that's what you'd been doing. But it was. You still hadn't given Angus any chance to talk. You yelled at Kiara when she asked what was wrong. And you brushed off Soren's concern when he gave you a lift home. But then a sudden irritation rose within you.

"I guess I don't know what there is to say that you all don't already know. I guess I don't understand why Angus is laughing in the living room and why we're all pretending to have a nice dinner like everything is fine when it isn't."

"We're all still hurting," Kiara spoke your name, imploring for you to hear her. "What's so hard to understand about wanting to achieve some levity together?" Kiara sounded angry again, angrier than you. Angry at you.

"Why can't you let me be upset?" You quizzed, chest hot with misunderstanding.

"Why can't you let me move on?" Kiara demanded to know, voice full of emotion.

Just then Soren breezed in, setting his bag of comic books and weed on the kitchen island, asking how he could help set up for dinner. Kiara asked him to grab everyone drinks. Then she told you to carry out a pan of food to the table. Her tone was short and she wouldn't look you in the eye. You did as she asked, anger bubbling and brewing deeper in the pit of your stomach all the while.

You ate dinner, asking Claire about Chicago. You pretended not to grimace at the sound of her shrill run on sentences. You reminded yourself your upset shouldn't be directed at this poor stranger of a woman. But it was hard not to seethe when she was sat in the fifth seat at the table. You and Soren each shared a glance or two of annoyance at Claire's hogging the nights conversation.

When she wasn't speaking, Angus was asking her more questions. You watched him hang on her every word. You kept hoping he'd turn and give you those looks. You watched his fingers drum on the table, and wished his hands were holding yours. You realized then, just exactly how fucked you were. And how no matter when or how you had the inevitable conversation with Angus- that everything was different now between you two. When he started rambling about his thesis having something to do with ancient Roman law, you excused yourself again.

Thinking fast, you gathered everyone's finished dinner plates to take to the sink, the perfect leave. Your anger dissolved into exhaustion by the time you reached the kitchen, you were getting a little sick of your own bullshit. You were growing weary over how out of control your life and emotions seemed these days.

As you arranged the dirty dishes in the sink, something caught your eye from beyond the patio door windows. Through the never-ending fog of this San Fransico spring, a small grey blur. You turned your attention fully to the backyard, beyond the firepit, past the chairs. A slender grey cat was biting at the flowers Kiara planted for Tom.

"Uh, guys." You called out for someone else to come and see this because there was no way they'd believe you if you simply told them. "Guys you have to come see this." You called again, a laughter breaking up your announcement.

"What's wrong?" Angus came sauntering in, you heard him, but you didn't dare turn from the sight of the animal in the backyard. "Oh... my God." Angus approached, stalling at your side near the patio doors. He let out a chuckle too, disbelief painting a smile across his face that reached his almond eyes. You turned to look right at him. And he turned to look right at you. And for a moment you weren't sure what sight dazzled you more. The others came rushing in, pointing and laughing and standing in awe before the patio doors. The laughter that was born from shock kept erupting more and more between the four of you, until Soren was howling, and Angus was coughing and Kiara was nearly breathless.

"I don't get it. What's funny?" Claire asked, looming near the kitchen island with a look of perturbed wonder. Maybe Kiara was right. It was time to let some kind of light in.

///

"Open the dooooooor." Angus whined from outside your dorm, chanting the same thing over as you rushed to hide paper in your hands. It was a letter from your university.

You failed your finals. You failed this entire semester.

Shoving the letter between your mattress and box spring, you clamored to unlock the door, letting your best friend inside.

"Geeze, do you really have to lock all three locks on your door? I stood there freezing for hours it felt like, coulda died in that hallway."

"For somebody who came from a winter state you sure have a shit tolerance for temperature." You joked. But it had been a chilly spring. "I'm not taking my chances with the serial killers and the impatient East Coasters."

Angus stood with his hands in his jacket pockets and that familiar brooding smirk on his face you were so damn endeared to. His smile was always a good sign. But still, you were suspicious of your friend's presence, still on uncertain terms.

"Want to come do laundry with me?"

Finally, something normal. A usual request from Angus. A routine you could follow without question or wonder. Just a couple of spin cycles and whatever bullshit you each thought up to ramble over to pass the time. With a nod you grabbed your hamper and followed Angus to his car. The laundromat was a five-minute drive, one you spent turning the radio dials while Angus bitched about traffic.

Inside the laundromat, rows of machines lined the walls and only a couple patrons stood separating whites from darks and folding fresh sheets. Some folk songs crackled from the speakers, but the whir of the dryers and washers drowned out the guitars. You each got down to business; loading your clothes into separate machines and lingering to wait on one another to head across the street. A diner waited, windows flooded with flyers and adds.

Angus got you each a coffee and you ordered some fries. He mentioned going with Soren to a wedding in New York in a couple weeks. Yammering about summer plans. Angus considered the idea of tracking down his old professor when they got over there. You listened. You said you didn't have any plans. You clawed through topics in your head to keep up the facade of normalcy. But nothing could stop the silence that branched from the space in between you and your very best friend. You watched his lanky finger steal a fry from your basket without asking. You sat biting your lip instead of reprimanding him.

"I took Claire on a date. Two nights ago."

You nearly choked on the coffee you sipped to suppress your jitters.

"Claire?" You rang, shooting Angus a look of disbelief.

"I really like her. And she somehow really likes me." Angus reasoned, holding out a hand as if to pass along this information. You sat, playing back his sentence over and over in your head. Playing back the way they laughed together the night you met her. She seemed nice enough... But...

"I was going to wait and ask you... I don't know, for permission, I guess? But then I kind of figured if you wanted to talk about what happened with us, you would have by now. So that must mean you don't have anything to say, right? So, I asked Claire on a date. But then I felt like a real asshole about not telling you. So this is me... asking one last time. Do you want to talk about it? Do you care?" Angus ended his rambling admission by boring his dark eyes right into yours, and waiting.

You sat, playing his words over and over. You sat remembering the warmth that filled your every cell when he first kissed you. You sat remembering how he said he wanted to do it again. You sat wondering why the fuck your body and your brain refused to function as a team, failing you from opening your mouth at all now. But if you couldn't do it... maybe Angus could.

"Do you? Care?" You dared to quiz the guy, your eyes darting between his, searching for understanding.

"Wha- Why do-" Angus stuttered, his already furrowed gaze growing more perturbed by the second. "Are you listening? Do you hear me at all? I need to know how you feel." Angus leaned against the sticky table, as if his intense eye contact would get the answer he wanted out of you.

"I hear you." You breathed, nerves buzzing across your entire being.

"But are you listening?"

"I can't stop you, Angus!" You finally burst. Anger pushed itself through your body until words formed against your better judgment. "If she makes you happy go for it. Hell, bring her over for dinner next Friday. It's the last one of the month."

Your friend sat obviously perplexed across from you. It was like he wanted you to tell him not to do it. But you couldn't stop Angus from living his life. You barely had control over your own these days. All you could muster up the ability to speak was a weak approval, despite the way your heart descended to your stomach.

///

"Here you are, dude." Soren handed you a coffee with a proud grin, like it was the first one he'd ever made. Your friend should've been proud, you ventured. His free spirit got the better of him years before now. He seemed to be finding his groove.

"Thanks sir. How'd you do on finals?" You really wanted to know his answer, knowing he'd worked so hard this year. Soren said he passed with flying colors. You said you knew he would. He said they'd all gotten together at Kiara's to celebrate. He said the cat came back. He said he really didn't think Angus and Claire made a good match at all. He wondered why you weren't there.

"I guess I wasn't invited. I haven't been a very good friend to Ki, lately." You shrugged. You knew you'd found yourself in this position by your own faults. But it still stung to know they'd gathered without you.

"Oh. I thought it was an Angus thing." Soren shrugged. "He was real nervous about how you'd react to his asking Claire out and all."

"Yeah." You responded, searching Soren's gaze and watching him realize another customer was coming in. He smiled a sweet smile and hurried over to his register, giving you a wave from there. You shouted a 'see ya' on your way out.

///

You slaved over your stove the night Claire was meant to join your monthly get together. This all felt like a very bad idea. But Angus was your best friend. And you really did want to support him in whatever steps he put an effort into taking, in life.

Granted the two weeks they had been together were the longest of your college career. Tom was still dead, and Kiara was still cold with you. She let you come over and accepted your apologies. But she remained despondent the whole time you stayed, clearly in her head about things. But you understood what that was like. And weren't keen to push her further.

Then your guests were here. And you felt even more like this was a very bad idea. But you played off your anxieties by deciding to pretend to be the best damn host on this side of the campus. You served Claire first and kept her glass of wine full and asked all about her life. Angus passed you several tight lipped smiles and subtle thank yous. You'd never met any girl he'd ever taken out. There had been a few, but none stuck around long enough.

You could tell Claire really liked Angus. And he definitely deserved to be adored in the way the brilliant blonde was willing to adore him. But there was just something that undeniably clashed about their pairing. Maybe it was the fact she was a few years older, sleeker, more mature. Maybe it was how callow Angus seemed at her side. Or maybe it was just you.

When the night winded down and the girl offered to help you clean up, Angus went to the bathroom. And that's when a certain veil lifted. The pantomime of the evening enjoyed its intermission when Claire toted in a couple empty glasses to your sink.

"I don't think I like you very much." She came right out with it. And not in a vindictive tone either. Just an honest one, and you respected that.

"I see." You straightened your posture.

"I mean, you seem nice enough but... I don't like you around Angus. I'm sure if I ask, you'll lie but, have you two... ever..." The woman lifted a brow, drying off a couple plates as you rinsed some others. Passing a couple utensils through the water, you considered very carefully how to respond.

"Why should it matter? If nothing ever came of it?" You quizzed, shrugging your shoulders. The blonde at your side heaved a sigh through a gentle smile, continuing to help you clean up.

"Well, at least you didn't lie."

Angus swooped into the room soon after, suggesting it was time for himself and his date to take their leave. After a few minutes of pleasantries, they started out. But not before Angus flashed you an expressive lift of his brow, curl of his lip, as Claire turned to leave. He asked so much in that one glance, a talent of his you'd always been fascinated by.

You flashed him a wide eye'd shake of your head, there was quite literally no time to talk about everything that had just happened tonight. But you hoped your face said it all just as well.

///

Soren sat across from you, hunched over his homemade lunch. You ordered a coffee from him before he took his break and scurried out to the tables to join you for a bit.

You swatted a strand of long sandy hair away from his meal and asked how he'd been. He mentioned being glad school was over for a bit. He mentioned the cat that kept showing back up at Kiara's patio door. He was convinced it was Tom, coming to visit. He knew it was crazy to think it, but he swore by his belief. He said Kiara thought he was nuts for it. He said she'd been grumpy lately anyway, cold. You selfishly hoped this meant she wasn't exclusively upset permanently with you. That she was just going through it.

"And don't even get me started on Angus and Claire." Soren scoffed, taking a bite of lunch.

"Oh, please get started."

"She's so possessive. Protective I could understand but she's possessive to a fault. He can't even bring up girls he works with, without Claire coming unglued."

Well, that explained why you hadn't heard from your very best friend in a couple very long weeks. You phoned him the day after that fateful dinner. He never answered or returned the call. You hadn't even seen his car on the campus lot, as it began to empty out. Summer had officially begun, and most everyone was graduated or off coping with the last semester before the next one kicked off.

"He says hi, by the way." Soren rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't have to be the damn messenger. Jealousy confounds me." Your friend flared his nostrils and shook his head before taking another bite of his sandwich. You couldn't help but chuckle at your usually laid-back friend's fiery disposition.

"Thanks for filling me in. Wanna share some of that cookie?" You shrugged, changing the subject. There was nothing you could do to change the way things were. There was nothing more to say. You were beginning to cope with the fact that the morning Tom died, everything changed. Everyone was different for better or for worse. Life was different now. And you were beginning to cope with that fact.

///

Today was the day of auditions. You sure as hell were not about to show up and dance. But you couldn't stop staring at your calendar- and the note you'd left there ages ago to remind yourself about try outs. A fleeting wonder crossed you mind, about showing up anyway. A fleeting consideration pressed with in you, for the outcome if you were to dance your ass off to try and earn a spot you knew you'd never land- just to have the last laugh.

When the phone started to ring, your roommate answered. But it wasn't long until she was twirling the cord closer to you, heading to take over the sofa.

"You have a competition or something today, don't you?" Angus voice crackled through the telephone line. You leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes still glued to your calendar, and huffed a laugh. What an unexpected voice to hear, cutting through your what if's, today.

"No I uh, I changed my mind." You revealed. You hadn't told anyone what happened, not really. You felt like you had more pressing issues to consider, back then. And now you weren't sure if any of it still mattered or not.

"Oh." Angus replied in a shock that nearly took you by surprise. "Well in that case, want to go see a movie?"

He was outside your dorm honking ten minutes later.

"I'm putting my shoes on, Geeze!" You hollered out the window. Angus yelled for you to hurry up, laying on his horn all over again. Your roommate started yelling soon after, demanding you get the hell out before Angus honking drove her bonkers.

"It's not my fault you called me so last minute!" You shouted, jogging to hop in his passenger seat.

"It starts in like four minutes!" Angus whined to your amazement. He was such a pain in the ass sometimes. But then you smiled and realized that you hadn't been worried about something so trivial concerning Angus in a couple months. You'd missed the hell out of this. But... why was it happening now?

"Why did you call me to invite me to a movie if you thought I had a competition today?"

"I called to wish you luck. And to apologize for not calling sooner. I've been pretty confused."

"Soren told me Claire's been a bit... territorial. You know that night at dinner while you were in the bathroom she told me she didn't like me?" You sighed a humorless laugh.

"Yeah." Angus scoffed a hopeless chuckle, breaking the speed limit all the while. You cursed at him to slow down before he went on to say, "She gave me an ear full that night too. And I wanted to respect her worries, ya know? Show her she had nothing to worry about. But then her worries turned into accusations, and the past two weeks have been constant interrogations with her. So, I broke up with her last night."

"Oh my God?"

Somehow, you actually didn't see that coming. Not so soon, anyway. Not so abruptly. While there wasn't much new information to process, the news still made your brain whir. A few billion what if's and what now's bubbled into the back of your mind while you realized the turn your evening had taken.

"I'm sorry she was rude to you. And I'm sorry I've been distant." Angus furrowed his brow and lowered his tone, speaking very seriously now. All the while he whipped his car into the movie theater parking lot and turned off the engine. "Now get out, we've already missed the previews. this is a Burt Renyolds film we're dealing with, go, go!"

"Oh my God, okay!" You hurried, slamming the car door shut. "No. Hey! Slow down it is not that serious." You remarked, following orders but refusing to jog at the speed Angus darted toward the theater doors.

Two tickets to The Longest Yard and one massive bucket of popcorn later, you were back to normal. Angus settled at your side and swatted at your hand when you reach for the popcorn at the same time as him. You plucked a kernel to toss at him in offense. He sighed and lifted a couple pieces to your lips as a silent apology. You chuckled and relaxed and thanked God for the turn of events.

You learned not to take it for granted. It could very well be the last evening of its kind you got to share with Angus. Death and dates and all kinds of reasons kept getting in the way of normalcy for the pair of you. Maybe that's what adulthood was. Maybe that was life. But so was this. And for that you were grateful.

The ride home was short, and filled with chatter about the film. And when Angus pulled into an actual covered parking space instead of haphazardly in front of your building; you felt hopeful that meant he would stick around.

"Wanna come in for a bit?" You offered, glad for the way you'd been able to banter so easily tonight. Longing to stretch out your visit, craving connection with Angus for longer than a few weeks now.

"I gotta meet up with Claire to give her some stuff back. I owe her that much." Angus stretched out his words, leaning his head against the back of the seat, turning to give you a sorry smile. You could tell he didn't want to go, not really. But he was right.

"I've just really missed you." You decidedly shrugged, looking right at him. Not even just the way he touched you that night. But his well-meaning laugh and his stories about what he'd been reading. His looks for you to decode across rooms. Him.

Angus nodded, that brooding grin of his forming across his features. He reached a hand across the bench of his front seat, tracing a finger against your thigh. You watched his hand ghost to stall on your knee- before you held out a slacked arm, scooting closer all the while. You needed him to wrap his arms around you, no matter what that meant. No matter what he felt when he did it. You needed him to.

And he did. Angus welcomed your embrace with his own, holding you tight in place for a moment before his head buried into the crook of your neck. You weren't even thinking when you moved your hands to brush his hair back. Angus moved as you did, his hold on you stayed steady, but his eye blinked up to meet yours.

And then you realized it was happening again. Your heart began to hammer, you knew he could feel it. Your brain buzzed with thoughts of only Angus. Your eye's longed to gaze more intently into his. Your hands wandered to consider the curve of his spine, the strength of his core.

"I've missed you too." Angus whispered, as his arms loosened, his hands trailing to the bend of your waist.

The kiss that followed was fierce. Your teeth clashed with Angus' and your breath caught in your throat. His fingers gripped to grab at your shirt, yanking you toward him. Your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your nails scratched along his torso before landing on his belt. It was just like before, neither of you could move fast enough. Every move seemed detrimental. But no touch lingered long enough to drive you crazy. You wouldn't let it. You needed to get to the point.

Angus picked up on your desperate pace, aiding in undoing his belt while his lips brushed along your neck. A quick shuffle of fabric was the last step to take before you were easing into Angus' lap completely as possible. You were sober enough this time to think to lock eyes as you rocked against him, shivering at the sight of Angus slack jawed enjoyment.

He let one hand brush across your cheek as his other clawed at your thigh, pulling you close as possible. You watched in awe as Angus stuttered a curse. You moved with intention, and he did too. Trailing his fingers from your face, to your chest, to the very middle of you- adding immensely to your pleasure. It was your turn to stammer curses and struggle to catch a steady breath. It wasn't long before you both reached your peak. But it felt like forever. It felt like all of time and space had collided to stall, as you shagged Angus in the front seat of his car. You relished every flame of feeling. You savored the way his eyes stayed locked with yours. You reveled in the smile that turned to corners of his lips upward. You had really missed him.

Quiet filled the car as you slinked up and away, falling into a puddle nearer the passenger seat. Angus cleared his throat, moving to fasten his trousers.

"Now what?" He asked in a hush.

"You gotta go. Right?" You shrugged. That was that. Right?

///

The Summer

Kiara followed her internship to Canada for the season. Tom was still dead. You had no dance class. You had just failed your semester. Angus and Soren had left for some wedding in New York. Not that their absence mattered much anyway. Because your best friend hadn't spoken to you since the spontaneous movie night. Since the second more profound and regrettable hook up. Not that you wished you never done it. But that you wished you would have said something different when it was over. Something that didn't make Angus jaw clench as he watched you get out of his car.

Several days passed since you'd heard from Angus. Despite the few times you'd called and the once you'd turned up at his dorm only for his roommates to shrug and say he'd been out all night. Then it was time for the New York trip.

And it seemed unstoppable, the call from your bed to stay there. You had no reason at all to get up. You had nothing to do. Nothing to think about. For days you stayed locked up in your room, completely despondent to any and everything.

Then your roommate knocked persistently enough to stir you from your den. She mentioned her flight for Japan was in a couple hours and asked for a ride to the airport. Your bones ached to move, your brain longed for a fresher perspective. So, you decidedly ended your wallowing in your own despair to slip into a change of clothes and drive to the airport.

The drive was refreshingly quiet. The blue of the sky and the air through the windows made you feel free. Made you realize you were not as trapped in that little campus as you felt. Your roommate had been fiddling with the radio dial as you'd considered the great big world beyond her dodge dart.

"Oh my God, hey!" Your roommate chirped over the crackle of a news anchors morning announcements of weather and traffic conditions. "Today is your birthday, isn't it?"

"Holy shit." You realized. "It is." you'd been so lost in the cave you created out of bed sheets that you'd almost lost track of time. Your roommate proceeded to shower you with well wishes, asking if you had any plans.

You did. Earlier in the year, Angus talked you into going out on this date, having a ball. When you'd each gone through the calendar at the start of the year, you realized each of your birthdays were on the last Friday of either month. Angus said that was too crazy to be a coincidence. He said you needed to make the most of these celebrations. But that was back when things were different.

"Not sure. After I drop your car off, I'll see where the day takes me."

"About that." Your roommate proceeded to inform you that she wasn't just visiting Japan. She'd decided last minute to move there, start anew. She had a fiancé and a place to go, and an abundance of plans. She wondered if you could leave her car for sale in the school lot and mail her the money. Lots of favors from this one today, you thought. But then...

"How much?" You wondered. Your roommate rambled about how much she paid for it, thinking of selling it for half the price now.

"I'll buy it." You blurted, surprising yourself even. You'd had funds saved up now with nothing to spend them on. You may as well had started thinking of your new path forward.

"Oh, that's right," Your roommate realized you'd been without your own transportation for a while now, and said she felt silly for not thinking to offer it to you right away. Once stalled outside the airport you wondered how much money you stashed in your wallet, finding only a couple hundred dollars. Your roommate stuck her hand out as you passed her the bills, but you were shocked when she handed you most of it back.

"Happy birthday, and thanks for the ride. It was nice bunking with you!"

In the span of a thirty-minute ride you'd been shown a kindness that filled your heart. You'd considered new sets of hope you'd never knew existed. You saw the sun. You gained a car. You turned another year older.

Driving back to campus, dread threatened to overcome you once more. But it was your birthday damn it. You had to find some way to keep yourself from slipping back into that bed of yours.

To the cafe, it was. And to your surprise, Soren was there.

"Happy birthday!" Soren smiled, arms opened wide behind the counter of his job. You chuckled and leaned across the sticky space to hug your friend. He said he'd tried to stop by your dorm this morning but no one answered. He must've arrived there as you left.

"I forgot you were meant to be back so soon." You said.

"My flight landed a couple days ago, Angus stayed to meet up with that old teacher he always talks about." Soren shrugged, going on to gush about the wedding they'd attended. And how much fun the boys had free of studies and schedules, away together. You stood there and listened, happy for Soren on one hand. Hurt by Angus absence all the while.

"Angus didn't say when he'd be back. But I swore I saw his car today. Could've just smoked too much before my shift though." Soren laughed as he poured you a coffee, free of charge. For your birthday, he insisted. You smiled and thanked your friend. Pursing your lips to suppress the surprising amount of emotion that rose within you at how kind everyone was being today. How much you didn't feel like you deserved their kindness.

"Thanks. Have a good shift, friend."

Your next stop was the market. Your cupboards were bare, you already knew. And now that you were out of your stupor, your stomach ached with hunger. Some dinner, a drink, and a little tiny cake because why the hell not. Whether you deserved everyone else's kindness, you were allowed to make the most of today, right?

The afternoon passed slowly, light turning to dark outside. You considered Soren's story, how he thought he saw Angus' car today. How there was a chance he was back on campus. With a shot in the dark, you rang his dorm with your fingers crossed. No one answered, but you couldn't be too disappointed. He was still on the East Coast, you decided. He would've stopped by today right? If he was back in town, and if he knew it was your birthday, he would've stopped by.

But then, you knew he knew it was your birthday. And night turned to morning, and he hadn't called. He would've at least called, right? If you hadn't fucked it all up, he would've. If everything hadn't changed, he should have. But all of a sudden it was four in the morning. And the slice of cake you'd saved just in case Angus came around was swiftly sent to the garbage. And the realization that everything was different was followed by the understanding that you didn't have a single thing stopping you from starting all over.

You cleaned up and found your suitcase and started throwing things in. Forming a quick plan, you found a notebook and a pen and hurriedly wrote your friends name on one side and a quick note on the other. Even though you were pissed at Angus, and hurt and confused by the turn your friendship had taken, he still deserved a goodbye.

'i dropped out. might call when i get settled someplace. here is to hoping you'll answer if i do'

It was cutting. It was short. But it was all true, and it wass the best thing you could think up, so hastily. You zipped your bags and threw them in your new back seat. You marched to Angus' dorm and slid the note under his door. You zoomed off campus and felt the weight of all that had happened fall from your chest.

You looked ahead as day light broke on the horizon, and smiled.

///

The Future

For a month, you kept your job cleaning houses, crossing the bridge to the rich neighborhoods as often as you could. You'd found a perfect little flat on the outskirts of a suburb. You even considered applying to some of the shops along the town's strip so you wouldn't have to drive as often.

You'd banked on the kindness of delivery drivers to help you move a bed and a few other furnishings into your new space. You'd decorated with mementos you'd clung to from childhood, and a couple pictures of the four greatest friends you'd ever had. When Tom was still alive, and everyone was carefree. Though all of that had ended, the photos you cherished from before brought you the same happiness you'd felt when the snapshots were taken.

You'd called Soren once or twice. To make sure someone knew you weren't dead. To make sure he was still showing up on time to work and to listen to the plot of whatever comic he was in the middle of reading. If conversation began to drift too far outside of those topics, you'd let your friend know you had to go, but promised to keep in touch.

You were just starting to feel like life made sense. You were just beginning to consider that not all hope was lost. While you were still at a loss for what to hope for, you were beginning to consider that there was a future beyond despair. Maybe it was finally time to call your best friend. Maybe you could talk to him now, without completely losing it...

You kept these thoughts at bay, not daring to let them spin your mind and soul into a depression. You pulled into a gas station, deciding only to occupy your afternoon with trivial things. With easy thoughts and simple tasks. You were allowed to do just that.

Just as you began to lose track of your thoughts in a daydream, leaned against your trunk watching the gas fill- a car screeched recklessly into the gas station lot. A woman carrying a couple of fountain sodas scurried out of the way of the boxy car and nearly dropped her beverages. A couple by standers cursed out the hapless driver as the car continued to skirt crookedly behind yours. You knew that make and model. You knew that scratched passenger door.

Oh, God.

Angus was clamoring from the driver's seat, slamming his door before he stomped up right to your face, yelling for the whole lot to hear.

"You dropped out?" Angus hissed. His dark curls bobbing as he pointed an angry finger your way. You saw a funny little rage in his gaze. And that pissed you off more than you'd already been.

"Oh, you found my note? How long did it take you?" You jabbed. "Three or four days? Week or two?"

"You can't drop out! There is only one year left!" Angus was in awe, waving his hands at you, yelling like there was a bubble between the pair of you he had to shout past to get your attention.

"I'm surprised you're aware of that. Haven't necessarily been keeping track of important dates as of late, have you?" You shot the guy a glare that could have killed him if your eyes were lasers or worse.

"Look, I know. I'm sorry. I am sorry." Angus whined your name, reaching out to grab your arm as you adjusted the gas pump from your car to its holder.

"For what?" You challenged. Because you believed he still hadn't realized how important this last time his absence had been.

"For going M.I.A. For not calling. For... everything. I have missed you, I just-" Angus sighed and cast his eyes down in shame you could feel begin to radiate from him. But ache as your heart might've for him, because it always had, you were far from done being mad.

"You've never missed my birthday before." You rose a brow, a sting filling up your chest that you had to make it so obvious to him. Angus head rose up slow, his downtrodden gaze turned into one of shock horror.

"Oh my God, no." He frowned. "No, no, no- I'm... so sorry," Angus called your name as you rolled your eyes and turned to open your car door. His please for you to stop mixed among a billion sorry's in the span of a minute. His hand stalled on your driver's door, and you stood glaring as Angus began to ramble. "Soren barely knew you'd left. He couldn't help me." Angus explained. "I went all around campus asking if you'd told anyone where you'd gone. So last resort, I drove across the bridge to Miss Julie's to ask if she'd seen you, and finally-"

Mid sentence, your brain whirred. This mother fucker drove an hour and a half across the city to ask a woman whose house you cleaned every other weekend if she'd seen you? Okay, maybe he cared more than you thought.

"And you don't call, you don't write, you leave me a vague ass note like I-"

And then you were pissed again. Because you did call. Angus was the one who left you hanging this last time.

"Angus, we are not doing this here." You swatted at him, breaking his grip on your car door. With a heavy sigh you asked him to follow you to your new little flat. Where you could yell all night long without a lot full of strangers gawking at the pair of you.

Your grip was white knuckled the whole drive home. Your heart was in your throat. There was no getting out of whatever confrontation that laid ahead with you and Angus. This was it.

You parked in your usual spot and marched toward the apartments to the tune of Angus slamming his door. You reached your home in a couple of turns, unlocking the door, and letting it swing open behind you. Angus slithered in as you hurried inside, straight for the bottle of rum on your counter. Finding two glasses in the cupboard, Angus stalled in the middle of your living space and decidedly went on where he left off.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about dropping out?" He called your name. His voice was softer than it had been at the gas pump. But his tone was more desperate. You took a sip of your drink, and slid his toward the end of the counter, locking eyes. You moved closer toward where he stood as Angus went on. "Why the hell didn't you tell me what happened with that dance instructor. Shit, you barely told Soren. But he knew. Why won't you talk to me?" Angus brought a hand to his middle, like he was holding in everything from spilling over. His usual brooding expression was downcast more than usual. His hair a little longer. His eyes still your favorite pair. You had really missed Angus.

"I don't know Angus! I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I tried so hard to pass finals and I failed harder the more I tried. I gave everything I had to that dance class, and it blew up in my face. And then you... us... I couldn't afford to fuck up anymore. I had to go." You spoke, emotion raising in your voice as you stood sweeping a hand to gesture as you explained.

"You didn't fuck everything up. You can still take summer classes. You can fix it. You can find a new dance class. And I... you didn't fuck us up." Angus declared, speaking clearly but wearing a look as if he may have been unsure of himself. You watched as your friend took a few steps toward the drink you poured him. In the matter of a moment, his taste of rum was gone, and he was shamelessly reaching for the bottle to pour another drink.

"What if what I want doesn't matter?" You started, as he poured. "I tried so hard to pass and I failed. I tried so hard to dance and none of my practicing mattered more than a sexual favor would've. What if... what if I want you? What will the catch be? Because there seems to always be one, with me." You'd never been more clear.

"Look I wasn't sure what we were going through at first." Angus sighed after sipping his second drink. And then he took a moment to glance about the room, seeming to decide something. "But then I went to that wedding, and I realized exactly what I wanted and how I felt. It's still confusing, you and me. But I want there to be a you and me, okay?" He seemed to mean it. He seemed to really mean what he said. But there was still a look of unnerve painted across his features.

"Angus you forgot my birthday." You reminded, downing the rest of your drink. Cocking his head sorrily, Angus reached for the rest of his rum.

"I know." He said. "And I'm sorry. I was late getting back into town." Angus sighed. "And my mother was in my dorm room when I got back, imagine that surprise-"

"Your mom?" You gasped. In the entire three and a half years you knew Angus, he'd only spoken about the woman twice, and spoken on the phone with her once. She'd never come to visit. As you processed this information you watched Angus' jaw clench, his teeth dig into his lip, his brow darken.

"Yeah, so my dad... he, uh-" Angus blinked up to the ceiling, unable to hide the tremble in his voice.

"Angus, no."

"I tried to visit him when I was out there, after I met up with Paul. But when I asked to see my dad they said he'd been moved out of the facility for months, moved to some hospital, no one could remember which. And then my flight... And she didn't even tell me he'd been sick. She refused a funeral. And I never even got to say goodbye." Angus spoke like every word tore at his throat. Tears pooled in his eyes, falling when they filled up too much.

"Why didn't you start with that?" You rang, unable to comprehend how so much loss and hurt could continue to reign over this year. You stepped forward to reach for Angus, grabbing at his arms and moving to smooth back his hair, wiping away the tear drop he missed with his sleeve.

"Because" Angus implored, shockingly ready with an answer. "This has been way too confusing for way too long and I couldn't keep it in any longer." He waved at the space that existed between you and himself, keeping his bloodshot brown eyes lasered to yours all the while. "If I want you, and if you want me, then what's stopping this from happening for us?"

"Because," You began, deciding in this moment to be brutally honest. The most honest you'd been all year. "I'm scared."

Angus shook his head, rejecting your reasoning.

"You don't think I'm fucking scared too?" He huffed like it was obvious. But it hadn't been to you. "I love you. And that's terrifying. I'm in love with you. Enough to wait for you to say it back, if you want to. But you better only decide against this if you don't want it. You can't let this pass us by just because you're scared."

You struggled to hold back the tears springing into your eyes. You struggle to croak out any response that wasn't a curse. You struggled to wrap your mind around all that had been said. You couldn't help but let a sob escape, too overwhelmed by it all.

And then Angus was crying too, really crying. There was no reason left to hold back, to keep emotions locked down. Everything was out in the open now. Every tattered heartbroken truth had been shared. And there was nothing you could do to make it all better, no way to make sense of it in a flash. But you knew you could wrap your arms around Angus and hold on for dear life.

When his lips met the crown of your head, you were reminded of every time he'd done so before. You were reminded of every late-night pub crawl and bad first date and mean teacher. You remembered every weekend road trip, every movie night in, every homemade dinner. And then you thought of now. You thought of all the hurt. You thought of all the tension and all the grief and all the looks across rooms shared with Angus. You hadn't a clue how to move ahead with him. You wanted to move ahead, but you just couldn't see how.

You began to push away. You shouldered out from Angus' hold on you and wiped at your eyes with a sleeve. You, gently as possible, moved his hand that clung to your side still.

"Don't do that. Don't shut me out again." Angus implored; voice still wrought. Eye's still bright with sadness.

"I know it's not what you want but I don't have any other answer for you right now. I'm sorry about everything too, Angus. I'm so sorry about your dad. But I can't- I don't know. Not yet." You sniffled.

"This didn't go how I hoped." Angus released a heavy sigh, turning to pace before your kitchen counter. "But I'm gonna do what I said." He pointed at you. "I'm gonna wait and hope you'll give me a chance. I just need to make it clear that I don't want any version of my future to be without you in it. So... whatever you decide... I just love you okay? Do you hear me?" Angus rang. Then you remembered how he asked that same question at the diner.

"I'm listening. And I hear you. And I'm sorry. Just... give me more time."

Angus left that afternoon with a grin when you asked him to stop back again in a couple days. And you went to bed that night in tears, happy or sad you weren't sure.

///

A few months had passed since Angus appeared out of nowhere and berated you in the gas station parking lot. He was starting his final year of school. He stopped over most Fridays, and some nights in between. Sometimes Soren came with him, and you'd all stay up past midnight cackling like a band of fools. You'd sent Kiara your new address, and she sent some post cards from Canada. The messages she included were never very long, but she always signed her name with a heart dotting the I.

On the weekends Angus hung around, he mentioned missing Tom. He mentioned wishing he didn't have to miss Kiara too. Wishing for one more night all together. When Angus hung around, he talked a lot about his studies and the stories from the history books he'd been learning. When he hung around, he'd sometimes end up staying the night. When he left the mornings after, he'd always end up coming back around.

You kept cleaning houses. You kept those old pictures hung up like trophies. You wondered about finding a new dance studio on this side of town. But you weren't sure if you were ready. So, all things considered, you went to that little cafe on your old campus to find a friend for lunch.

"So, I went to Claires house yesterday." Soren began his story with a wry grin, unwrapping his meal from home. The coffee shop was busier than usual, full of students new to campus and ones eager to leave. "I asked her if that cat still hung around. Long story short she said if I could catch him, I could keep him. So I went to the gas station on the corner and bought a bag of jerky. Set up a little trail from the fence to the patio. It was about an hour before the little guy showed up. He didn't even go for the jerky he just came right up to me and let me pick him up!"

Soren went on to explain how easy it was to take the cat home and how soundly the pet had been sleeping in his window sill. You laughed and beamed and felt glad for the outcome on your friend's behalf. You couldn't imagine the basket case he'd have become if the cat fought his capture.

The cafe began to crowd with more people, somehow, standing between tables that all filled up with patrons. Soren sighed and rushed to finish his food, knowing they'd want his help the busier business got.

"We really need to meet up sometime when it's not your break." You mentioned. He nodded, sharing part of his dessert like he always did.

"Do you always bring your lunch? I never see you order here." You realized, suddenly. Besides coffee, there were some reasonably decent snacks the cafe had to offer. But Soren never seemed to indulge.

"I don't even like coffee, man."

You laughed and wondered why the hell he worked here then.

"It's the first job that called me back after an interview. It's the job that got me out of debt. I love it here. Everything comes full circle, ya know?" Soren explained, but you asked him to go on still.

"It's like with Tom. He died, man. But that little grey cat that ate the flowers we planted for Tom lets me feed him fast food every night. You can't convince me that's not my friend. He came back." Soren waved a hand, as if to rope his next point in with the one he'd just made. "I needed money, I got a job and made enough to pay off my debt and enough to pack my own lunches every day. Everything we want is already ours. If it doesn't happen one time it'll happen another. It's all a big circle."

Somehow, a light switched on in your brain. Somehow, everything you'd been worried about didn't feel so heavily weighed on your chest. Somehow, you had an answer for Angus.

"Soren, you brilliant hippie freak." You gawked at your friend in awe as he rushed to take one last bite of the sandwich he'd brought. Soren was hurrying to stand, hurrying to get back to work. And you were suddenly in a rush too, now that everything clicked. With a quick hug goodbye, you darted for the shop doors, excusing yourself through a crowd of grumpy college students eagerly awaiting their caffeine fix.

///

Your home was quiet, the good kind. Stillness welcomed you as your thoughts continued to align in place for what felt like the first time in your entire life. Your brain was free of cluttered worries. Your heart was beating at a steady pace. It was all clicking. And you even still had a couple hours to make a decent dinner for two.

Angus arrived when he said he would, bursting in the door with complaints of teachers who were bad at their jobs and students who were too dumb to care. You laughed and listened and set a place at your table for him. Over dinner, you talked about considering dancing again. Angus encouraged you. He talked about taking a year after graduating to relax. You said he should. You each helped clean up easily and welcomed the quiet together.

You each floated to the couch afterward like you were used too by now. You let the telly play whatever was on, and relaxed under the weight of your best friends arm that laid over your shoulders.

"Angus..." You decided, grabbing his attention as both of your eyes stayed glued to the actor on the screen. Your friend hummed in response.

"I miss the way everything was before." You admitted. You missed your friends, the nights you all spent as a group. You missed the life you'd had worked out for yourself back then. You noticed Angus had turned his head to face you, his brows lifted as if to display sympathy. His grief free to reveal itself for a moment. Angus' almond eyes floated from his lap to meet yours as you shot him a pursed shrug.

"It scares me that this is what life has played out like." You went on, watching Angus watch you speak. His eyes landed on your lips. His voice was a whisper when he asked you to go on.

"What if we keep changing?" You implored, nodding toward Angus as his gaze danced from your eyes to your mouth. "If we fall in love I want it to stay that way. I can't have you be my next great disaster. I'd rather keep you at a distance than dare to let you break my heart somehow." You revealed.

Angus rose his hand to brush across your face. He let his fingers find your hair and curl among the strands.

"We've already lost a bit of what we were before, haven't we?" You begged for clarification, validation, mutual understanding. If you were gonna let him in, you needed Angus to remember all the reasons you'd been weary to do so, up till now. You needed to make sure his mind hadn't locked onto worry and changed.

He was pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then. A simple soft gesture that lingered with intention.

"Why does it have to be lost? Why can't it just be changed for the better?" Your friend wondered, his voice low, his presence before you whole and consistent as ever. You'd heard enough to shut up and kiss him back. And then it was happening, what usually happened when Angus kissed you. Your heart hammered and your brain latched onto thoughts of only him and your hands gripped to pull him close.

Angus dragged you to bed, something that had happened a few times here, in this new reality. You did all the things there that you had done before. You marveled over how Angus held you and cared for you and stared at you with undeniable adoration.

And after a while, when you'd both done all you could do, you laid there still. In the low lamp light, you stayed tangled up with Angus, running fingers through his hair and listening to his heartbeat. And you talked about what compelled each of you to kiss in the first place. You talked about how you felt the night he shagged you on the guest bedroom floor. He talked about how overwhelmed he was when you boned him in the front seat of his car. You collectively wondered how different things might've turned out if Tom didn't die. If school went better. What life would look like now, if things were different.

"I don't know. I've been worried that I don't have control over anything. Like my whole life has just happened to me. What if that's like... my curse?" You sighed, staring up at the amber glow from your bed side lamp.

"I've been where you are, before. When I met Paul. And one night he told me 'your history doesn't have to define your destiny.' And that rocked my world, man." Angus lamented. "I wish I could explain it all away for you just as easy. But all I can do is wait, and hope something clicks for you. Wait and hope you'll see something good enough in me to let me prove it to you. That's what love is, isn't it? Or could be?"

"Yeah. It already clicked for me." You revealed. It was time. It was easy to admit. It was true. Angus hummed as a plea for clarity, tapping his finger against your temple out of habit, you assumed.

"It already clicked for me. That can be what love is. We can be in love and scared about it together." You said.

The room filled with a quiet you were familiar with. Angus laid still beneath you. Until finally he spoke up.

"You mean that?"

Soren said that everything you may have wanted in life was already yours. And some how that made sense. No matter that Tom died, he was your friend. Nothing could change that fact. Kiara had been so distant, but she was writing to you. She came back. Soren caught the cat. And Angus laid in your bed. And no matter what had happened before, he was here now, and you didn't want to take that for granted out of fear it might all slip away.

With a grin and a nod, you shifted to meet Angus' almond eyes. His were hazy under his brooding brow. You were glad you didn't have to miss him anymore. He was all yours. You'd always belonged to him whether you realized it or not. And nothing was going to change that.

///

That holiday season you joined Angus on a trip to the East Coast. He made fun of you for being so cold but shared his jackets all the while. Angus took you to all the places his dad used to like. You helped him hold a memorial his mother denied planning, and neither of you mentioned her at all.

You sat beside him in a cab, watching a steady snow fall collect along the sidewalks. You were on your way to meet your boyfriend's favorite old teacher. You planned to tell him all about Tom. In fact, you had a lot of plans that featured Angus these days. And he, with you. And of that you were very happily certain.

#dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #angus tully #angus tully x reader #angus tully x fem!reader #dominic sessa x fem!reader #the holdovers #minors dni

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excalibur-gone-missing · 4 months

Text

Paring: Daichi Sawamura x fem!reader

Requested: No

Genre: Smut

Warning(s): Somnophillia, cunnilingus.

Summary: Daichi is annoyed after practice, thankfully you look a bit too delectable today.

Word count: 650

Other works

Beta reader: None

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

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Daichi loves hearing you blabber as he rams into you with all his might. It's not always that he gets this horny and needy, but on the days he does, you are in for a ride—literally!

It started right after he got back from practice, extremely angry at himself for not being up to the mark and messing up the practice for the whole team.

The moment he came in, he immediately searched for you, only to find you asleep on the couch. It's not a rare sight to see you waiting for him, but those shorts paired with his tee were the breaking point for him.

You looked so beautiful lying there all pretty for him.

No matter how freaky you both were in bed, the topic of consent always took first place. So when he first heard you suggest trying somnophilia, he was a bit concerned, to say the least.

But the first time you both tried it, it was like heaven for him. So, the sight of you sleeping in shorts was too inviting for him to resist.

Immediately going towards you, he quickly removed your shorts and latched his mouth onto your cunt, hungrily lapping at it to create some wetness.

Your reaction was a bit slow, but he could slowly but surely hear the small moans emitting from you. Soon enough, you were awake, the feeling of his mouth on your now throbbing cunt too much for your sleep-induced brain to handle, so it woke you up.

Your moans immediately increased in volume, prompting Daichi to add a finger along with his his already attached mouth. Your hands soon found their place in his hair, pulling on it.

"Tastes so good I could die here," he says before continuing to abuse your pussy.

Within seconds, you are bursting onto him, squirting all over the man's face with a loud moan of his name. And being the man he subhe wastes not a drop of your precious cum lapping it all up like a starving man.

As Daichi emerges from your pussy, he gives you a look of extreme need. Within seconds, you are underneath him.

"Gonna fuck you so well," he says as he takes off his pants, letting his throbbing cock breathe. It's been almost five years since you and Daichi have been together, but the size of his cock still shocks you.

You used to wonder how it would fit, but from previous experience, you know it will. He immediately sinks into your puffy warm hole with a moan.

"How are you still so fucking tight? Did I not prep you enough?" he groans. Before you can respond, he starts moving, inducing moans after moans from you.

"So good Mura," you can barely form a sentence with how good he makes you feel. A ring of thick cream forming at the base of his cock due to the endless thrusting.

"Will fucking fill you up with my seed until your tits are all swollen with milk," he says while thrusting into you with all his might.

"Do you want that? My babies?" He rams into you like his life depends on it.

"Need, need your cum," you are just a blabbering mess at this point, barely able to form a sentence. The pleasure is so intense that it makes you almost cry. Soon, you reach your climax, cumming all over his dick, making him reach his peak too.

After a few loud moans, and a few "you milk my dick so well," you both calm down. He immediately moves over to hold you, making you rest your head on his chest.

"You want me to make us a warm bath?" he asks gently while rubbing your shoulder.

You nod, numb from all the lovemaking. Kissing your forehead, he immediately takes you to the bathroom to clean you up and get you ready for bed.

The End

a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review

#daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi x f!reader #daichi sawamura x reader #smut #daichi sawamura x f!reader #daichi x reader #daichi x you #Daichi Sawamura x you #daichi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader smut #daichi drabble #daichi imagine #daichi thrist

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imagine-shenanigans · 10 months

Text

I've got severe brain worms from @391780 's fic Into Your Veins, and now I'm thinking of all the different scenarios where the 141 are also monsters in the apocalypse. like. obsessively. Also fat/chubby reader because mmmmmm yaes <3

Also this is basically just rambles and ranting over ideas for like, however long this got i didnt actually check teehee

We already have vampire simon so I won't touch on that because that is Specifically Their Brain Worms but I can't stop laughing every single time over the sunflower seeds incident (and every other similar one).

Soap as a werewolf is soooooo funny to me. Like he's constantly in this battle of "Don't swallow don't swallow don't swallow" whenever he rips a zombie in half with his teeth in wolf form and then confusion as to why people would think he's possibly infected. "Wdym I'm infected I'm just a little guy. I'm so cute. I wouldn't ever do anything. Smiles." He can't cover distance like Ghost or Gaz can, and sure he doesn't have the same authority that Price does, but he's a damn good soldier, and he's got some of the most sheer brute force on the team. So when Price tells him to start scouting in an area for survivors, he does! He's very thorough, combs over the area with a precision that would make most soldiers weep with jealousy.

He ends up scenting reader before he sees them, watches their little house from a distance. He's not patient like Simon, but he does watch reader for awhile, watches them surviving, all on their own in this little plot of land. Ends up watching your plush hips sway as you set out the laundry to dry. He's mesmerized, as he watches the sweat drip down your skin while you reinforce a few of your traps, go over the house with a fine toothed comb. You can't see him in the shadows, but by god is he seeing you. (And your ass - god he can't stop staring.)

He's not nearly patient enough to wait, so he waltzes right up, thinking his charming smile and accent is enough to win him some brownie points. He's halfway through a pickup line, maybe, when you level a shotgun at his face, completely unamused.

He's in love.

You refuse to go with him, but Price gave him orders and there's no WAY he's letting you go, not after he's seen your thighs and imagined himself using them as earmuffs. Not after he's thinking of a cute domestic life, providing for you like a good mate, and look at how precious you are, threatening him and -

and you shoot him.

Right in the chest, and thank god for the fact that it takes more than a few bullets to kill him because he's tearing through his skin in an instant, bones cracking and sinew melding as he quickly drops into his wolf form (which, jesus christ he's fucking HUGE) to help ease some of the pain and kickstart his healing process. He snarls right in your face and snaps your damn gun in half with his teeth before he tells you he'll be back in a week. (later, he feels bad, certainly, but only for frightening you)

You freak out, because JESUS CHRIST WEREWOLVES ARE REAL TOO????

Johnny's back in a week as promised, after spending a few days in bed and eating anything he could get his hands on all while gushing about the pretty little soft thing he's bringing back. He even goes out of his way to bring you a gift!!! He hunts down a deer on the way through the woods near your home, bringing dinner so he can butcher it and you can cook it because of course he's bringing you back for practical reasons but if he's going to court you no you don't need to know that.

You're gone when he comes to the home, every last item packed away and shoved into the back of the car he'd seen you drive. He's furious that his hard work will go to waste, so he helps himself to the rest of what you've got in the house and decides to store everything away for when he's on his way back to base. Fights his urge to track you down only for long enough to be practical, and then he's on the hunt.

It doesn't take him long to find you - he can run faster than your car can go cautiously while trying not to attract attention from a horde of zombies, and even though he's living he doesn't attract the same attention from the freaks that you do in a car with a gun. He tracks you down in no time flat, smiling as he taps on your window where you're parked inconspicuously to catch a few minutes of sleep.

When you scream, he laughs and waves, threatens with one clawed hand to slash the tires if you don't come out. Practicality wins in this case, and he has a long talk with you about coming back with him. He's sure he's just about convinced you when you slap him, throwing something at him that has him howling in white-hot pain. He can hear your apologies through sobs as you push him and he tangles with whatever you've thrown at him, trying to get it off in a blind panic, and you've driven off before he can stop you.

When he finally has a moment to breathe, the damn thing off of him, he realizes you'd tied together a small net of necklace chains - silver. necklace chains.

He's as angry as he as endeared, really. It's a game now, of fetch, of tag, he's not sure - he just ends up changing pace, gently herds you back in the direction of the base like a cattle dog. You're furious when he finally pops your tires when you're a good two days away from the base, just hefts you up on a shoulder and pats your ass while he walks with you. He's so smug about it too, and by all accounts, he's won your hand in marriage by finding you, whether or not you agree yet.

Now, I'm not as familiar with Gaz as I'd like to be (because I got introduced with Ghoap stuff for my entry into the fandom) so please pardon if my characterization is off but I do love him dearly and eat up all content I end up seeing of him.

I'm slightly biased with Gaz being a harpy because I just love the idea of him being a bird of prey like a peregrine falcon (and i think its bluegiragi who has the monster au of him as a harpy?) or a shifter of some sort like a panther or a cheetah (i'm biased towards cheetah actually, because I love the pictures/videos of cheetahs getting emotional support golden retrievers).

Since my idea for this isn't EITHER of those options, please consider reader putting spike traps on the roof for a bird Gaz like stores put up on their signs. He gets real angry about it for a couple days and then figures out exactly how/where to land so he can perch on your roof anyway, scaring the shit out of you when he's just sitting there, chin in his hands, with a shit eating grin when you go to make sure everything's alright on the roof.

Anyway, for this I'm actually thinking fae Gaz - he's been living amongst humans for as long as he can really remember. He's not a changeling, but his mum was fae and she loved his dad. He's visited the fae realm once or twice (and, as convincing as his mum is when he visits her, he nearly forgets about the time dissonance every single visit - none are as bad as the first time, when he had no clue about it, and ended up being gone for fifty years.)

He's sent to greet you when Ghost majestically fails, and Cap'n doesn't quite want to set Soap loose on the poor reader (yet). Ends up falling in love with how clever you are, soft hands slipping into gloves as you pile leaves over the thin nets over the punji pits and bear traps. He's military trained across multiple decades, he's seen all kinds of war (even though he's still relatively young in comparison - he stopped physically aging somewhere in his twenties, but he's barely been alive for like, fifty years) and he's seen all kinds of tricks.

He watches you pour over old books that you've either scavenged or already had, learning how to make simple, but effective traps. The older types of traps are such a clever idea when combined with new ones. The type doesn't matter much to zombies, but the combination of different types will keep humans (and others) on their guard.

He really really really intends to talk to you, instead of lingering in the shadows like a creep.

You end up seeing him, and through sheer luck (or wit, Gaz isn't honestly sure) when he asks that you give him your name, you say; "Give me your name first."

He's stuck at that one, because Gaz has spent years talking around subjects but this pretty little human just points a shotgun at him and demands his attention. He can't even think to talk around the reason he's there when he changes the subject awkwardly, and you insist on his name.

He can't give you his name, his power, not even his nickname, so it ends with him awkwardly leaving.

He's the absolute butt of the joke when he gets back to base after slipping into the trees (so embarrassed that he doesn't take the time to make sure you can't see him do it) and goes straight back to base utilizing a mushroom circle and the sheer willpower to not get distracted as he slips between realms. Makes a week long trek into an hour's worth of walking.

When he returns, he knocks politely, eyeing the newly replaced doorknob.

When he touches it, out of curiosity, he's gobsmacked to find out you've either found a new knob, or cast the old one in cold iron. He touches it three full times in complete disbelief, watches the skin on his hands grow irritated and blister.

You smirk when you open the door, make some shitty joke that he's pretty sure is a twilight reference that would make Ghost furious, and then you tell him you figured it out pretty quickly.

In comparison to Ghost and Soap, his romance is altogether extremely easy - he just keeps visiting every single day, calls you a nickname when you won't give him an actual answer.

He admires your caution, and falls just a little more in love when you call him something stupid like mushroom man.

In the end, what ends up convincing reader, I think, is that he fully gives them his name. It's akin to a proposal, and Gaz isn't quite sure how he feels when you don't realize it as you roll his name - Kyle Garrick on your tongue, testing it. You ask if you can keep calling him Mushie Man and some other stupid nickname and he laughs, presses a kiss to your temple for it. Says it's only fitting, and whispers your full name like a prayer.

He lets you stay in your home a little longer, as long as you need really, laces a misdirection hex into the branches that'll really only work on humans. He comes by every day, no matter what.

When you finally agree, he grabs your face and kisses you like you've given him the sun and stars and hung the moon just to illuminate his way.

For Price, I'm going to say dragon price because mmmm hot. Anyway I like to think it's a little bit of everything.

Ghost is the first - you find out really quickly that he fucking hates the counting trick you pull, so you're sure to carry a pocket full of something small just to piss him off if he gets too close. When you don't make eye contact (whether intentional or because you hate it) he's absolutely bewildered that this Soft Little Thing in the woods has so effectively blocked him from getting his job done initially that when he complains to Price, he puts his foot down. Says if Price thinks is so funny, he should send Johnny or Gaz out, see if they can do better.

And Price, sides hurting from laughing so much, agrees to make it Soap's problem next.

Soap returns, a net-like burn across his forearm from where you'd thrown tied together necklace chains at him. He's pissed, whines and moans for hours about how bad it hurts, and Price just snorts and tells him Shouldn't have tried to drag them out, then.

When intimidation and brute force don't work, Price lets Gaz have a go at it.

The man is practically radiating smugness as he goes to win, and Price is crying with laughter when Gaz comes back, his hands blistered and pride bruised. He clears his throat and says I think ah, I think they've just gone ahead and put every guard on the house they can think of. He does not tell anyone that the human ended up catching him in a net for half an hour afterwards, chiding him for the full thirty minutes about trying to open someone's door without asking.

(But Price knows.)

He ends up saying he's going to go deal with it himself to "Show them how it's done."

Really though, he's absolutely smitten with the idea of you. He knows that, given the time and will, his boys would absolutely bring you back - but he doesn't want that anymore. He has to see for himself the cute soft little human in the woods that's managed to catch all three of his best soldiers off guard because all three of them underestimated you.

He can't very well let anyone on base know (especially the civilians) what he is, so he waits until the dead of night to start flying - only does so when he's well past the point of being seen, even if it means he has to fly in his hybrid form, which is a little awkward when he doesn't do it as often.

He's a perfect gentleman when he walks up to your home at daybreak, letting his form go back to human.

He avoids every trap, tripwire, and camera that Simon and Johnny and Kyle had all warned him about so you don't have to spend your precious time and energy fixing them. He knocks on the door and waits until you open it, introduces himself as Captain John Price, love.

Apologies for the heavy handed attempts of his men as he stands on your doorstep. When you slam the door in his face he simply sighs and knocks again. And again, and again, until you finally relent and open the door back up.

He smiles, and asks if he can come in - you say no, and he smiles.

Love, if I wanted to I could push past you, I'm asking to be polite.

You freeze at that, trying to think, trying to evaluate. You're clever, he thinks with a pleased hum, half lidded eyes staring down at you. You sigh, and relent, finally - knowing that whatever battle that you'd be fighting uphill could at least be done over the breakfast you were starting to cook, and you didn't want to waste it.

Something twinges in John's chest as he sits at the table, and decides, like the rotten, greedy bastard he knows he is, that you're his. And not his like the rest of the people he's got, but his. You'll be his, no matter how long it takes him.

He lets you cook in silence, enjoying the mundane domesticity of it all, tucks into the plate of food gratefully, and feels like he's home.

After breakfast, John takes the time to ask you questions. About your past, about your hobbies outside of survival, how many things you've got that'll be coming with. When you remind him you haven't agreed, he chuckles and smooths a hand over your hair and reminds you that he hasn't asked.

You finally ask him what he is, and he blows a mote of smoke at you, watches the realization hit you before you go blank. A fucking dragon? You ask.

A fucking dragon, he responds.

John is extremely amused when you tell him to wait on the doorstep, and you go upstairs for something. When you come back down, you hand him a box full of jewelry (he almost laughs when he notices the amount of silver chains missing.)

He hands you the box back and curls a finger beneath your chin, calls you a silly girl/boy/pet and tells you that not all the stories are true. In this case, they are, of course- but he doesn't need to tell you that he hoards people, not things. That his hoard is every single person on base - doesn't tell you that his most treasured parts of his hoard are the three strong men who work directly with him, that he intends to keep them for as long as he lives, which will still be a damn long time coming, even if he's been around since before the middle ages.

You'll be his favorite of all though, he thinks.

He gives you a week, but tells you that his boys will keep an eye on you, make sure you're still there every day until he personally comes to escort you home. When you remind him, stubbornly, you are home, he laughs, and presses a kiss to your forehead while you stand there, bewildered.

In between that moment, and when you get back to base with him, I can't decide if its better if he ends up singlehandedly destroying a small horde of zombies with fire breath as the pits you've got full of traps fill up, or if it's better if he shows up with a box truck and a few men and they all end up moving you out of the house without asking. Maybe it's a mix of both - you decide!

But regardless, it ends exactly as he wants - you, tucked up into his lap as he reads reports and issues orders. He skips the dating and goes straight into being your husband - makes some sort of quip about being far too old (fashioned) to entertain the thought and goes straight to being married like "it used to be." Even though for a dragon he's still kinda young, hasn't even hit his comparative forties yet, actually. Even though it doesn't really matter, because as far as he's aware dragons don't die of old age so much as they die of other factors beyond their control. It's why he's so carefully cultivated his life towards survival thus far.

John lets you do whatever you want to keep you busy, the only real stipulation is that you come home to him at the end of the day. He's even quite respectful, really. He never touches you without your consent, aside from placing soft kisses on your temple or forehead, or cuddling up to you in your shared bed. (Which you say you only entertain because he's warm, and there's no heating in his room. But really, you love it when he holds you, and lets you hold him with no questions asked, all under the pretense of being half-asleep.)

He acts like he has all the time in the world for you to come around - and he does.

You'll be awfully sore later when you realize he's bound your life to his, even angrier when your teeth adjust and you can start seeing better. He'll pretend not to notice the changes at first to see what you think, and then he'll help you through all of them, cooing and sighing and rubbing into sore muscles as you learn how to control changing into your half-dragon form. Maybe in a couple hundred years you'll figure out how to fully transform into a dragon - maybe not.

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kairiscorner · 1 year

Note

HEARME OUT 🌼

ive been seeing fics about bad boy x good girl

and i've been seeing novels about hockey players x nerd

YOU ALREADY KNOW WHO I HAVE IN MIND HAHAH ♪(´ε｀*)

he has shitty grades despite being an athletic star so reader tutors him

ITS REALLY SPECIFIC BUT OH YM GO smth abt the bad boy x good girl dynamic does SOMETHING to me ( ≧ᗜ≦)

oH MY GOD ,,, YES PLEASE. LOWKEY WANNA MAKE THIS A SERIES LIKE THE COLLEGE MIGGY ONE HEHEHHEHEHEHEHHE

soccer captain!bad boy!miguel o'hara x nerdy!fem!reader (part 1...?)

the clock mounted on the library wall behind you endlessly ticked all monotonously and rhythmically, ticking you off even more as you tapped your foot against the floorboards impatiently. you knew he was going to have practice after school for an hour and a half, his coach confirmed it with you when you asked–but where the hell was he? you sighed as you shut the book whose contents you were studying closed and began to fix your things and leave–that was, until a loud slam was heard from across the library, which the librarian gave a disgruntled 'shush' for, and the boy of the hour (and the past few) was finally here.

he was all sweaty, his dark, curly locks sweeping over his forehead as he walked over to you and pulled a chair up; slumping into it with a thump, angering the library's patrons and the librarian themselves. you frowned and crinkled your eyebrows at the lack of manners this boy had, and his lack of tact for you taking precious hours out of your day was annoying you beyond belief. "you're late." you reminded him as you folded your arms over your chest. miguel merely chuckled and sat back in his chair. "so what? i'm here now, aren't i?" you grumbled at his cocky response and shook your head gently.

you opened up the book you were reviewing earlier, and before you could even begin to speak, the minute you looked over at miguel, he was napping. with a huff and a look of frustration, you shut the book closed again and leaned over across the table—smacking the top of his head with the book. he mumbled in pain and furrowed his eyebrows at you, looking pissed. "what was that for?" he asked you in a grumble. you opened the book again and reread a few passages. "to wake your lazy ass up." you answered nonchalantly, without even looking up at him. miguel folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at you. "just so you know, i'm carrying the whole school's soccer team by myself—i'm far from lazy." "in soccer, you might not be, but in terms of... academics..." you trailed off, purposefully making miguel knit his eyebrows together again and making him grumble and lean back into his chair. "just don't act like you're any better than me, which you aren't, dork." he mumbled to you as you took a pen and began writing down some notes. "i'm doing no such thing, you himbo of a jock." you replied to him with a little quip.

though as you were writing, miguel's bigger hand wrapped itself around your wrist, prompting you to look up from the book and papers you were holding and up at his hazel brown eyes. they looked soft, maybe a little... bright, even? wait, why were you even noticing these things, you hardly ever spoke to him—the main reason you were even in the same space as this usually loud, crass, crude jock was because he was in a rough position with his grades. his coach suggested you tutor him after school to keep his act together, or else he'd be off the team entirely; what you weren't expecting was him touching you randomly, this wasn't in the agreement. "what?" "thanks... for doing this for me." he muttered to you, looking into your eyes all sweetly; but you weren't falling for it, you knew he had a reputation for making other people swoon for him effortlessly with his words, if he wanted something else from you, he should just say it directly now. "it's not for you, it's extra credit, which i'll be needing eventually." you correct him as you pull away. miguel chuckled at your response. "extra credit? you already tire the teachers too much with all your babbling in class and being bossy in group projects." "success doesn't come easily, o'hara." "oh, trust me... i know." he said with a light smirk as he stared up at you as he propped his chin up on his folded arms on the table.

you whacked his head with the papers this time, and he grumbled again in frustration at how unfunny this whole shtick was becoming to him. the librarian shushed you two as a second warning, and you leaned in close to him to teach him the lessons he missed wasn't listening to because he was busy napping in class in a hushed voice; though you worried he was focusing on... other things while you were teaching him. what kinds of things? oh, you'll see for yourself eventually.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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cupidjyu · 1 year

Text

win over your heart (goal!)

sunwoo x reader (this is for the anon who requested jealous sunwoo and bff eric! thank youuuu~)

summary: getting partnered up with your best friend eric and your childhood enemy sunwoo for a school project isn’t always ideal.

genre: friends to lovers, childhood enemies to lovers lol, school au (high school, college, not rlly specified), soccer player sunwoo and eric!, eric is your best friend and the real mvp here actually, fluff, jealousy, confession, getting together, first kiss, reader likes photography, flirting but also shyness notes: yumi is in a weird era where she suddenly writes these long ass fics for literal no reason 😭 my true writing potential (not rlly, i could write 20k if i rlly wanted to) word count: 7k

There were many rules when it came to soccer. You never quite understood all of them. The only thing that you were absolutely sure of, was that the goal is always the main objective. So really, every time you watched soccer games, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the area next to the two white nets, wondering which team will score next.

“Y/n! Hey.” Eric popped up from the bleachers, dressed in his usual soccer uniform. He leaned his forearms against the cool metal, looking up at you with a quirky smile. “You didn’t forget what you have to do, did you?”

You immediately shook out of your little daydream, looking down to face him. “Oh, yeah. I definitely remembered.”

Eric raised an eyebrow.

You huffed. “I remembered… just now.”

“Focus.” He rolled his eyes. Then, he gave you a cheesy thumbs-up and a wink. “Make sure I look top-tier and better than everyone else.”

“I’ll make sure I do the opposite,” You deadpanned. As he walked away, you picked up the heavy camera that hung around your neck. Photography has always been your sort of… escape. Being able to look through the lens in a completely new perspective and even capturing precious moments easily caused you to get lost in your own world.

Usually, you took pictures of scenery or pretty flowers. But sometimes, there would be a certain someone who wanted you to take high-quality pictures of him so that he could use them to impress someone that he was crushing on.

You sighed, bringing the camera up to your face, to zoom in. You moved your view around until you found the familiar back of Eric’s head.

“Found you, dummy,” You whispered to yourself, turning the lens so that you could focus on his face. You followed him around, taking pictures whenever he would subconsciously pose in the sunlight or when a bright smile would appear on his face whenever he successfully passed the ball.

After the first game of practice was finished, you tracked your best friend as he walked towards someone. You squinted your eyes, watching as he began to talk to him, punching his shoulder and everything. Eventually, your curiosity got the better of you and so with a held breath, you shifted your focus onto the man next to him.

“It’s you,” You wondered to yourself, pulling back briefly. “Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo was your enemy. Well, not anymore. Elementary school enemies. It was funny, really. You two had always bickered when you were little children, sticking tongues out and messing up each other’s coloring papers.

“I’m gonna tell on you!” You would always threaten whenever he stole your little zebra eraser.

“Nuh-uh!”

There never was a day where you didn’t fight with him. Up until elementary school ended and he had moved away.

You brought the camera back up, trying to find Eric again but he was long gone. You sighed, as you went back to search for him, but again, your camera landed back on Sunwoo. Swallowing nervously, you watched as he began to play in his own style. Even the way he ran was alluring. He was a lot more serious than Eric, but his eyes were always adorably bright and his hair always bounced like a puppy’s.

You forgot to mention that when Sunwoo had come back to school all grown up, he had really grown up. Taller, broader, his jawline suddenly appearing? It was hard to admit but he became… attractive rather than the cute, scrawny boy from before.

You were enamored, the thought of taking pictures of Eric completely abandoning your mind. You knew that Sunwoo was a very skilled soccer player, which was why he was always moving. Stretching his legs, rolling his neck, blah, blah.

“If you would just stay still…” You mumbled, only managing to take horribly blurry pictures. And suddenly, he paused. “Aha,” You breathed out with excitement. “Stay there.”

But just as you were about to click the button, he was looking up at you, with a confused pout. And then it turned into a growing smirk.

You inhaled sharply, pulling the camera away from your face, your cheeks burning.

“Oh my god,” You panicked and shut your eyes in hopes that this was all a dream. When you peeked one eye open, he was still staring up at you. You simply wanted to crawl into a hole.

And you could have just stood up and left. But poor, poor you. Oblivious you. You decided to wave. Wave at him.

Sunwoo widened his eyes slightly. And then he waved back, giving you a small smile. Even from so far away, you could see the twinkle in his eye.

—

Practice had finally ended which meant that you could finally escape the heat of sitting on the bleachers. You bounded down the stairs to meet up with Eric.

“Tell me! He eagerly jogged up to you with an excited smile. “Did you get any good pictures? Ones that will make people fall in love with me?”

You winced. “I think I did?”

“Great! Let me see–” He reached forward to grab your camera. Normally, you would let him, but this was different. You couldn’t risk him seeing all the pictures that you had taken of Sunwoo.

“No!” You blurted out. “I have to edit them. Some of them aren’t–”

“Eric?” Sunwoo walked up to the two of you, a knowing smile on his lips. Even while sweaty, he still glowed under the setting sun. It was quite unfair actually.

You gulped. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, motioning to your camera. “Are they all pictures of Eric?”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the floor. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

Sunwoo only smiled wider. “Could’ve sworn you were focusing on someone else.”

“You’re imagining things, Sunwoo.” You glared.

Eric gasped. “You were taking pictures of someone else? Who?”

You shook your head, whining and holding the camera desperately out of reach. “I did not! Leave me alone.”

Eric laughed louder. “Never. Not as long as you’re with me.” He surged forward, pulling you into a tight hug as he pressed a loud kiss to the top of your head.

“Eric,” You giggled shoving him away. Except, he only prevailed, holding you closer. Physical touch has always been your guys’ thing. Neither of you complained. That was just what best friends do.

“You will accept my kisses.” He glowered.

“Fine, fin—“ Your eyes met Sunwoo’s. He was staring at the two of you with an incomprehensible expression. Your eyes traveled down and you could see how oddly stiff his shoulders were.

You cleared your throat nervously and pushed Eric off, making him grumble sulkily.

“Can you go ahead without me?” You turned to your best friend. “I have to ask Sunwoo something.”

“Sunwoo? Why would you— ow.” He winced when you pinched him on the shoulder. With a pout, he walked away.

Eric was aware that you knew Sunwoo from way before. You both were best friends after all, meeting just a few years ago. No secrets were to be kept. Well… except for the fact that you think Sunwoo is cute. But that’s different.

You turned to Sunwoo with an embarrassed frown. “If you could just forget that all happened, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“That you were secretly taking pictures of me?” Sunwoo tilted his head innocently.

Immediately, a blush rose to your cheeks. “I was not.”

“Show me then.” He glanced at the camera around your neck. You hesitated but with a sigh you turned it on. Sunwoo approached you and you could even hear his breathing. You let out a shaky exhale, willing your heartbeat to calm down.

You clicked through the pictures, praying that they would all be of Eric. But to no avail, the very next picture was of Sunwoo, kicking the ball.

He hummed, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“That looks like me.”

You stuttered, at a loss for words. He only continued to stare back, his eyes gleaming.

“Fine!” You blurted out. “It is you. But please.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hanging your head low. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled quietly.

“Why?” You could practically hear his smirk. Then, a finger was under your chin, pulling you up to face him. You gasped quietly, trying to look anywhere but at him. He only leaned closer. “I think it’s cute,” He whispered. “After all these years, I have a secret admirer. And it’s you.”

“I am not!” You sputtered, blushing profusely. “Last time I remember, you stole my favorite crayon.”

“You’re still on that?” He pouted.

“Yes, in fact. I very much am,” You stubbornly huffed.

He pulled away finally but he was still smiling. “You do know I was doing all that to get your attention right?”

You froze. “What?”

“We were never enemies. At least I thought we weren’t,” He mumbled as he quickly turned away. If you stepped forward any further you could see that his ears turned red.

“Sunwoo?”

He only walked faster.

—

“What are the chances that we all get paired up together?” Eric happily plopped down on the desk in front of where you and Sunwoo were sitting together.

“Great,” Sunwoo huffed. “It was supposed to be me and Y/n. You just happened to show up late.”

“Aw,” Eric cooed playfully. “Don’t be so jealous.”

“I’m not,” He mumbled. Surprised, you turned to him, only to see his flushed cheeks as he avoided your gaze.

You giggled to yourself as you picked up the paper you were assigned.

“Exploring each other’s hobbies. A way to expand a person’s interests and grow a connection to the other.” You read with a bored voice. “Each person will teach the other their hobby and— This feels like the school talent show all over again.”

Sunwoo laughed. “Remember when I tripped you during your cute little dance routine?”

“Yes,” You groaned. “I was literally about to cry by the way.”

Eric watched your interaction with a growing smile. It was his time to play cupid.

“Did I hear that right?” He spoke up with a grin.

“Hm?”

“Cute. Cute?” He turned to Sunwoo. “Are you flirting with my best friend right now?”

Sunwoo immediately sputtered. “No. I was not. I actually thought it was stupid and dumb.”

You gazed at him with a small smile. “You thought my silly dance was cute?”

He grumbled, flopping down to hide his face in his arms. “I— I didn’t. Not at all.”

Suddenly, the teacher came around and she poked Sunwoo in the shoulder.

“No sleeping in class, young man. And you two should start working.”

You sighed, turning back to the paper.

“As I was saying before someone brought back bad memories.” You glared at Sunwoo who’s cheeks were still tinted red. “We’re supposed to try each other’s hobbies and write a few sentences on what we think about it.”

“Easy,” Eric replied. “What hobbies are we doing?”

“Photography.” You smiled giddily.

“Soccer,” Sunwoo said.

“But I already know how to play,” Eric whined. “Oh, but Y/n doesn’t.” He gasped. “You’re going to be a great soccer player,” He joked as he took your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers with his with an excited smile.

You laughed, turning to Sunwoo only to see that he was staring directly at your connected hands, a small frown on his face.

“Enough of this,” He muttered grumpily, reaching forward to grab both yours and Eric’s wrists, pulling them apart. His warm hand lingered on yours for a second, making you inhale sharply.

“What about you?” You choked out, turning away to hide your blush. “Eric.”

“Me?” He said. He gave a sly smile. “It’s a surprise.”

—

“You walk awfully fast.”

You heard a voice call out from behind you. Classes had ended which meant the usual routine of you heading home.

Turning around, you were met with the sight of Sunwoo running towards you, bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was slightly wavy, reminding you of a poodle.

“Sunwoo,” You breathed out. “What are you doing here?”

He gave you a quirked-up smile.

“Am I not allowed to walk you home?”

You laughed. “It’s a short walk, I’m okay.”

He shook his head, beginning to walk side-by-side with you. It was a comfortable silence with him occasionally taking soft glances at you.

“So,” He spoke up. “You and Eric.” You looked at him, noticing a nervous expression flit across his face.

“What about him?”

He frowned. “How long have you known him for?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a second. “About three years.”

A relieved look replaced his anxious one. “So you’ve known me longer.”

“Well…” You eyed him skeptically. “We were young kids and you did disappear for a good while. And came back really tall all of a sudden.” You nudged his shoulder with a smile. “Didn’t think you would be one of the taller ones.”

“Hey." He scowled. “What do you take me for? Of course I would be tall.” He puffed his chest out, making you laugh dearly.

But then, his expression softened as he looked at you with a sort of longing in his eyes.

“But, I’m sorry,” He whispered. “For disappearing like that. I didn’t want to move away but—“

“It’s okay,” You reassured him. “I mean, for what it’s worth…” You trailed off when you realized just how intently he was gazing at you. But still, you kept up the eye contact no matter how warm your cheeks felt. “I did miss you. When you were gone.”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows rose as he stared at you almost like he was in disbelief. But then, it contorted into a teasing look.

“You missed me?” His laugh was deep. “Tell me, are you in love with me or something?”

Heat rose to your cheeks rapidly. “I was trying to be genuine and nice!” You huffed. “Fine, I'll take it back. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Don’t be like that,” He teased further.

You grumbled, stubbornly turning away.

“Look at me.” He tapped your shoulder. When you did, you noticed that his coy smile was gone, now replaced with a shy, timid one. “And for what it’s worth,” He mumbled, copying your previous words. “I missed you too.”

“See!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to widen on your lips. “Was that so hard to say?”

“Definitely. Took all of my courage actually,” He joked, giving you a charming tilt of his lips.

You snorted. Something glinted in the corner of your eye and your smile fell briefly.

“Is that…” You pointed at the keychain that hung on his bag. It was a small plastic cat, dirty and chipped, almost like he had gotten it years ago.

He widened his eyes, his hand shooting out to cover it from your sight.

“It’s nothing.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Take it.” You had shoved a cat keychain in his hand. “Since you’re moving away and all… you should have this.”

Young Sunwoo had frowned at you. “I don’t want it. It’s ugly.”

But he still took it from you anyway.

You had assumed he was going to throw it out or give it away but here it was, hanging on his bag.

“Oh my god, Sunwoo,” You whispered in utter shock. “You kept it for so long?”

He shut his eyes, wincing from mortification. “It— it was too hideous to throw out.”

“Sure.” You smirked. “Then tell me, Sunwoo. Are you in love with me or something?”

And for some odd reason, he never answered the question.

–

“Photography is all about capturing the moment in it’s best,” You explained. “As long as you do so, then it doesn’t matter if your camera is absolute shit.” You snickered, glancing at Eric with his camera that was basically holding on for dear life. It was battered and dusty as he had claimed that he found it in his attic.

Eric pouted. “I tried to find a better one,” He cried.

Sunwoo laughed to himself. He didn’t have a camera, so he was borrowing yours. Something about the way he gently handled it put a funny feeling in your heart that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

The three of you had agreed to meet at a park, where it was likely to find subjects to take pictures of. Pretty flowers and the like.

“Using a camera is self-explanatory, but it’s the focusing that people need to work on,” You said. “But, I like to think that it comes naturally, as long as they choose something beautiful in their eyes to take a picture of.”

The two of them stared at you blankly, like obedient puppies who wanted a treat. You groaned, frustrated.

“So go,” You urged them. “Capture what’s beautiful to you.”

“Oh right!” Eric shot up, running over to a bed of flowers. You followed him and you helped him focus on a specific pink one.

“You’re supposed to– twist it so that it–”

“I got it!” Eric looked at you determined. “You may be my best friend but you’re a pretty bad teacher.”

You whined, pulling away. “That’s harsh coming from someone who has a camera that’s literally unable to focus at all.”

“Oh.” His mouth dropped open. “Is that why it doesn’t work?”

You snorted. “No. Your camera isn’t even turned on.”

“Shut up.” He scowled.

You laughed, turning around. That was when you saw Sunwoo, standing from a distance. He had the camera brought up to his face. Underneath, you could see a small smile on his lips.

But the thing is, he was pointing the camera straight at you.

Your past words rang through your ears. You felt your breath be completely taken away at the realization. Sunwoo seemed to be unfazed as he only zoomed closer on you.

Clearing your throat, you walked up to him.

“Me?” Your hand came up to the camera, pushing it down so that his kind eyes met yours.

He nodded, stepping closer so that he was only inches away from your face. You could feel your heart beat all throughout your limbs as your breath was caught in your throat. His hand came up to the side of your face and you felt something being tucked behind your ear.

You furrowed your eyebrows and touched it. It was a small, white flower.

“Sunwoo?” You breathed out, your voice shaky.

“You said to capture what’s beautiful to me,” He answered. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reply as he stepped backward, brought the camera up to his eye, and took a picture of you. You were sure you looked like a deer in headlights. A deer with a flower tucked behind its ear.

“You…” Your mouth went dry as you looked down at your shoes like they were the most interesting thing. “I don’t know what to say.”

Sunwoo smiled. He took the camera off his neck and handed it to you.

“Just know that I think you’re the most beautiful,” He whispered. He walked away as soon as he noticed Eric coming towards you.

Your mouth gaped open yet no sound came out. You turned the camera on and looked through the pictures. There were no photos of flowers or butterflies. They were all of you either talking to Eric or walking toward Sunwoo. And the last photo was what made your legs go weak. The one with the flower behind your ear.

“Woah, you look so nice in that picture!” Eric stated, peering from behind you.

You had forgotten to mention that what the photographer captures, is what they truly see in their eyes.

(Photography seems fun. Though it isn’t something I would pursue, I did learn to take pictures of lovely things. Or people. There’s one person in particular. - Sunwoo)

“Soccer isn’t just about kicking the ball.” Eric walked across the field, his chin held up high like their coach always did. “It’s about– uh…”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Nevermind, it really is just about kicking the ball,” He muttered, his cheeks flushing. Sunwoo snorted, taking the ball from him.

“We’re just going to kick the ball at the goal over there.” He pointed out.

You nodded. “See? Eric, Sunwoo’s a much better teacher already.” Without thinking, you grabbed Sunwoo’s arm, pulling him closer. You didn’t notice him begin to blush profusely.

“No, no.” Eric shook his head. “I’ll teach you how to kick the ball properly.”

You sighed. “Fine. Prove yourself.”

“I will!” Eric stuck his tongue out at you. You let go of Sunwoo so that Eric could walk behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulders, tilting your body slightly. “When you kick the ball, you don’t use the tip of your shoe. You use the–”

The both of you were interrupted by Sunwoo clearing his throat. He was practically glaring daggers at Eric, his eyebrow raised.

“Let me teach.”

Your breath hitched and you turned to Eric. He seemed to be completely unbothered though. Instead, there was a knowing smile on his lips as he looked at Sunwoo, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Okay,” He jested. “Go ahead.”

He easily backed off, bewildering you. You stared after him about to say something but he cut you off again.

“Your boyfriend is a really jealous person,” He remarked, cackling as he walked off to kick the ball around for himself.

You squeaked. “He’s not–”

You inhaled sharply when you noticed that Sunwoo was already standing behind you.

“Pay attention,” He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh,” You breathed out shakily. “Okay.”

You could hear him huff out a subtle laugh as he brought the soccer ball closer to your foot. Did the weather change? You wondered why it was starting to feel so warm.

It got much, much hotter when you registered the feeling of a large hand resting on your waist. He gently shifted you so that you were at an angle. You took in a deep breath.

“At an angle,” He explained. “Use the inner side of your foot to kick the ball.”

You looked up at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes soft on yours. With a shaky exhale, you turned back to face the goal. And then you kicked the ball. You watched as it traveled barely a short distance before stopping right behind the goal line.

“I hate this,” You cried.

Sunwoo laughed, his deep voice alluring. “You did alright.”

“Better than that one time you fell flat on your face in kindergarten,” You snapped.

He pouted. “You remember that?”

You snickered. “Of course I do. That was the first time we met.”

“Yes, and you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Eric appeared out of nowhere, balancing the soccer ball on top of his shoe. “You what?” He watched the both of you intently.

You blushed, and shoved Sunwoo away after realizing just how close he was to you. “Nothing! I did nothing.”

“Are you okay?” You called out after realizing a boy had fallen on his face.

“I’m fine,” He had sniffled.

“Here, let me help you.” You beamed. You sat beside him for the next few minutes, putting bandages on his scratched knees.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

Yeah, definitely childhood enemies.

Sunwoo smirked as he looked at you. “You’re still the same to this day, you know,” He replied.

“How so?”

“You like to take care of me.”

“I don’t,” You grumbled.

“Oh, so what was that water bottle doing right next to my locker when I said that I was thirsty?” He grinned.

You slapped a hand over his mouth urgently. “How did you know it was me?”

“On the piece of paper next to it. You still have similar handwriting from what I remember.” He winked.

(Sunwoo is a great teacher. But also a little excessive. Waist grabbing to teach how to kick? Someone’s awfully whipped. - Eric)

–

“Tell me I look good,” Eric pleaded. He began to practically hyperventilate, severely worrying you.

You set your hands on each of his shoulders.

“You look great. Very handsome.”

Eric whined. “Do you really mean it?”

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile. “Now go. This is your first date, you can’t mess it up.”

He nodded, determined.

“Okay. I’ll text you after, okay?”

You smiled and waved goodbye. As he was walking out of the school grounds, he turned back around.

“I look good right?” He hollered again, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“You look hot!” You yelled back, waving and jumping up and down, causing Eric to double in laughter.

Once he was out of sight, you turned around, only to see Sunwoo sitting at a bench reading a book. You raised your eyebrows and went to take a seat next to him.

“You hate reading,” You finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh do I?” He looked up at you.

“Yes. Unless you’re a changed man?”

“Definitely,” He dully remarked, turning back to his book. You studied him oddly. Something about his tone threw you off. It lacked emotion, almost like he was upset.

“…Sunwoo?” You leaned closer so that he would look at you.

“What?” He glanced at you briefly before gulping and turning back to his book. You could tell he wasn't reading a single word.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” He replied. Yet there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his face.

“Are you sure? You can tell me.”

He shut the book harshly before turning to you.

“I mean, if you’re going to call him handsome and…” He paused. “Hot. You might as well date him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Eric?”

“Yes, Eric,” He huffed grumpily.

You stared in utter disbelief. This was… different. He was looking back at you intently while being adorably frustrated. There was a crease between his eyebrows and a cute pout on his lips. Slowly, your frown began to grow into an endearing smile.

“Sunwoo,” You giggled. You took the book away, placing it down. Your hand wrapped around his, pulling it into his lap.

“What’re you doing?” He asked gruffly. You could hear the shakiness in his voice.

“Sunwoo,” You whispered. “Are you… jealous?”

“What? I’m not—“ He wrenched his hand away, his cheeks red. “I’m just annoyed that you call him handsome and all,” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You don’t do that for me.”

Your smile only widened as you looked at him knowingly. His shoulders squared and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Now his ears have turned red.

“I’m not jealous,” He insisted, frowning endearingly.

“If you’re so sure about it then I guess I won’t call you handsome then…” You sighed, biting back a smile as you stood up from the bench. Suddenly, a hand caught onto your wrist.

“Wait. Are you really?” He looked up at you with round eyes.

You shrugged. “It’s a pity since you’re so certain that you’re not jealous.”

“No!” He blurted out. When he realized his volume he blushed even more. “No. I— I guess I was a bit jealous…”

“And?” You laughed, sitting back down.

“And… can you call me handsome now?” He hung his head low.

You laughed even louder. “Yes.” You cupped his face in your hands. “You are so handsome.”

You could see him visibly struggle to conceal his smile.

“So handsome. So handsome I will faint,” You exaggerated.

“Ah…” He mumbled, grabbing hold of your hands and trying to escape your hold. “That one time was enough.”

You ignored him. “But you’re so handsome!”

“Okay,” He whined, blushing intensely. “I— I get it.”

–

“You never told us what your hobby is.” You frowned, sitting next to your best friend after practice had ended.

“Oh, right,” Eric replied. And then a smile grew on his face, slightly scaring you. “I’ll tell you first and then I’ll tell Sunwoo once he’s done.”

“Okay, what is it? You’re being awfully suspicious.”

He motioned you so that you would lean closer. He cupped his hands around your ear and whispered, “Dressing up.”

“Huh?” You pulled away in bewilderment, staring at him like he was the craziest man in the world. “Dressing up? Since when did you like to–”

“Shh,” He panicked, slapping a hand over your mouth. “Call it a guilty pleasure of mine.” He grinned.

You cringed. “Okay. So, what do you want us to do then?”

“Dress up?” He replied like it was the easiest thing ever. “Wear your fancy clothes or whatever. And then meet there.” He pointed at one of the goalposts. “Seven in the evening. Don’t be late.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to dress up though.”

“Trust me,” He pleaded. “It’ll be worth it.”

You sighed. “Fine, but only because we’re best friends.”

“Great!” He excitedly stood up. “See you there!”

“Mhm, all dressed up.” You rolled your eyes.

–

Just like he had requested, you stood under one of the soccer goalposts. The sky was orange, and the sun setting beautifully. And yes, you had attempted to dress up. You did your hair and everything, even wearing your nicer clothes. But, you didn’t enjoy standing there. All alone.

Maybe you were early, but there was no one else standing beside you. Sometimes you despised Eric for being so mysterious. You bit your lip nervously, pulling out your phone. You dialed Eric’s number and he picked up a few moments later.

“Eric? Where are you?”

“Oh, Y/n.” He laughed nervously. “About that… I uh– caught a cold.” He forced a cough out that was oddly suspicious. “So I can’t show up.”

“What?” You panicked. “So I did all this for nothing?”

“Don’t forget Sunwoo,” He sang. Before you could even reply, he had already hung up, leaving you stranded. You groaned, frustrated as you put your phone away.

You were just about to grab your things and go back home but that was when you caught a figure in the background. A very familiar figure.

“Sunwoo?” You tilted your head.

He came into view. He definitely didn’t get the memo of dressing up but he somehow still looked good. He had a hand behind his back, hiding something.

“Did you–”

“Oh wow,” He breathed out, stepping forward as he looked you over. He gave you a soft smile. “You look really… nice.”

Already, you could feel your legs transform into jelly.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “But did you also dress up?”

Sunwoo looked at you with confusion. “Dress… up?” He pulled his hand away, only to reveal a bouquet of flowers. It was beautiful, filled with colorful tulips and carnations. You gulped at the sight, gazing at him with shock.

“Sunwoo…” You uttered. “What is this?”

He pouted with puzzlement. “Did you not get flowers?”

You frowned. “...No. Eric told me that the thing was to dress up.”

“Huh.” He was deep in thought. “He told me that it was to make bouquets.”

“What?” And then it dawned on you. “Don’t tell me–”

He laughed, clutching the flowers to his chest. “This is a set-up.”

You snorted. “What’s the point of this? It looks almost like a love confession.”

He grew silent at that.

“Don’t tell me he noticed...” You heard him mutter to himself quietly.

You stepped closer. “Notice what?”

“Nothing.” He turned away.

“No, tell me.”

He sighed. “Well, I did make this for you,” He grumbled as he placed the flowers in your hand. You smiled as you observed how well it was made. The ribbon was tied neatly and the flowers were arranged beautifully.

“Thank you, Sunwoo.” Your eyes sparkled.

He blushed, turning away.

“And what do you mean by you making this for me specifically?” You widened your eyes.

“I found out that flowers have meanings so–” He pointed at the pink and red flowers. “The carnations and tulips both mean… love and affection.”

“Oh,” You dumbly replied. You laughed trying to ignore the pounding of your heart. “Are you in love with me or something?”

You had expected him to roll his eyes or deny it. But instead, he stayed quiet and looked at you with utmost sincerity, as if to silently tell you that,

Yes, I am.

You blinked, the flowers falling to your side.

“Sunwoo?”

“You have to listen to me first,” He said quietly. “I didn’t expect this to happen today but I guess Eric had other plans.”

You looked up at him softly. “For what to happen?”

“For me to tell you that…” He searched your eyes helplessly. “That I like you.”

You felt your whole world shift, almost making you drop the bouquet. “Wh–what?”

“I like you. A lot. And I have since all those years that we bickered as young kids. The reason why I teased you or stole your things was because I wanted you to pay attention to me. And I still tease you to this day because I like your cute reaction,” He rambled. “And I–”

“Don’t be nervous,” You whispered.

He sighed. “But you make me nervous.”

Your breath hitched, your grip on the bouquet tightening.

“You make me so nervous that I become a fool,” He said. “I’m supposed to be calm and collected but when I’m with you, I… I get jealous and anxious. And I feel like I look stupid all the time.”

You shook your head. “That’s not—“

“And,” He groaned, blushing even more than before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small that sat in the palm of his hand. “I still have this stupid crayon. Because I’m always thinking of you.”

You gaped at it, then looked back up at him. He no longer had the constant smug or teasing look, instead, it was replaced with an unsureness that made your eyes soften.

“Sunwoo.”

“I know,” He mumbled, looking away briefly. “This is sudden and I understand if you don’t like me back. I just needed to tell you at some point. It’s been years.”

“Years?” You whispered. You stepped closer after gently putting the flowers down. You placed a hand on the side of his face and you were pleasantly surprised to see him nuzzle into your touch. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “After all this time?”

He nodded nervously.

And then you laughed. You just couldn’t help it. He frowned cutely at you, humming in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“No I—“ Your eyes crinkled with a smile. “I just can’t believe it. I thought we were enemies this whole time.”

He whined, “God no, I really liked you. I still do.”

“For me, back then…”

His eyes brightened. “You liked me back too?”

You winced. “Okay, not really.” You eyed him sheepishly. “I did actually despise you in elementary school.”

Sunwoo laughed lightheartedly.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you right now.”

“Well I would hope that you don’t hate m— what?” He swallowed thickly, studying your features with a mixture of disbelief and undying hope. “You like me?”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Why’re you so surprised?”

“Because I’m a complete loser.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who said I don’t like this complete loser?” You teased, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “And besides, you’re not really. You’re cute and sweet.”

He choked.

“I like this side of you,” You continued.

“Which one?” He asked shyly.

“The one where you always look out for me.” You searched his eyes tenderly. “The one who always blocks me from getting hit by a soccer ball and the one who always checks up on me when I’m tired. That side of you.”

“Of course,” He answered softly, turning to press a small kiss to the palm of your hand, causing you to stutter over a breath. “It’s only natural.”

You grinned.

“Then it’s only natural that I do this then.” Before he could get a single word out, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You lingered there for a moment, trying to process your own mess of feelings, before pulling away with reddening cheeks.

His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated as he gazed at you with so much admiration that you couldn’t help but shy away, pulling your hand with you.

And then he spoke again, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“You deserve a yellow card for that.”

You pouted. Soccer terms were the death of you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He chuckled. “It was foul play.”

You bit back a smile, looking at him shyly. “How so?”

You gasped when you felt two hands on your waist, pulling you in close and right up to his chest. His eyes had never once left yours after the kiss on his cheek. He only continued to gaze at you lovingly.

“You were supposed to kiss me on the lips.” He smiled softly.

“Oh.” You rolled your eyes. “Well I’m sorry, Mr. Referee that I—“

“Blah, blah.” He smirked. “Make it up to me then.”

“As a matter of fact,” You huffed, with fake annoyance. “I will.” Your hand came up to the back of his neck and you pulled him right against his lips, making him manage out a mmph noise. Butterflies immediately filled your stomach to its very brim when his hold on your waist tightened and he began to tilt his head to deepen the kiss.

Soon enough, he began to smile into it, even breathing out a husky laugh that only turned the butterflies in your stomach into literal cartwheels. When he pulled away eventually, he still lingered on your lips, pressing small pecks on them which made you giggle.

You could see clearly that he was in a daze with the way his eyes were blanked out and his cheeks were flushed adorably.

“I think I just scored the best goal in my life.”

You erupted with laughter at that, pulling him into a hug as you hid your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“When you like someone you become so cheesy,” You laughed. “It’s hilarious.”

“Specifically because I like you.” He pulled away, searching your face with fondness. “I can’t help it.”

He took your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, right where his heartbeat was. You widened your eyes, but you also weren’t that surprised to find that his heart was pounding rapidly.

“See?” He frowned.

You giggled. “That’s so cute. You’re so cute.”

He struggled to contain a shy grin.

“You should have this back.” He placed the crayon in your hand. It was your favorite color and it sort of looked foolish in your hand, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Sorry for stealing it in the first place…”

You stared at it, feeling all the fond memories rush through your brain. You did contemplate keeping it, but instead, you threw it behind you, letting it land somewhere among the grass of the soccer field.

“What was that for?” He groaned.

“I only like you.” You giggled. “You’re my favorite now,” You joked. "A great kisser too."

You had expected Sunwoo to retort with a comeback or tease you like he usually did. But instead, he blushed. Maybe you broke him after that kiss.

“You can't just casually say that,” He said with a pout and a bothered huff. “That’s your second yellow card. Which technically means a red card.”

“And what’s that?” You smiled slyly.

“Penalty. So come kiss me again please.”

You rolled your eyes. Taking hold of his collar, you pulled him into another kiss in which he happily obliged with an adorable hum.

Walking back home together, it seemed that Sunwoo couldn't keep his lips off you.

"For the project, what grade do you think we'll ge- mm?" You were interrupted by his lips on yours once again. You stared at him, bewildered. "At least let me talk, Sunwoo."

He pressed another kiss to your lips. And then two more on each of your cheeks. And then one on your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut with mortification.

"No can do," He replied, smirking slightly. "You look too pretty for me not to kiss you. Like you do everyday."

You clutched the bouquet close to your heart. Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

(eric when i find u im going to kill u -Y/n)

(ahhh ur so scaryyyyyyy -Eric)

Grade: 95% (-5 points for bad grammar.)

–

“Eric!” You yelled, running toward him with one fist already raised. Your other hand was… preoccupied. With holding Sunwoo’s hand as he trailed after you like a lost puppy.

Eric snickered at the sight, even pulling out his phone to take a picture of you practically dragging your boyfriend along.

“Hey, at least give me the credit for getting you together!” He shouted back as you approached him. “I had to set it up. You both were getting frustrating.”

“We didn’t need your help.” You glared.

Eric raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sunwoo. “I don’t know. I could tell he was too shy to say anything, hence why I–” He pointed at himself proudly. “–had to come in. You should’ve seen how focused he was when making that bouquet. He is in love.”

“Are you?” You grinned, facing Sunwoo. His ears had tinted red, funnily enough.

He shrugged, trying to act completely normal. “Maybe, maybe not.” Yet he refused to look you in the eye.

You turned back to Eric, only to see him smiling knowingly. You laughed, already knowing what he was going to say. It seems that best friends share the same thoughts.

“He is so in love,” Eric whispered, cupping his hand around his mouth.

“Shut up,” Sunwoo grumbled. Yet he continued to gaze at you with heart eyes.

#deoboyznet #fics 💞#requests 💞#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff

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inaflashimagine · 11 months

Note

Did someone say a Nagumo fic? I would like to see it 🤲🏽

ask and you shall receive (pasting 2k below bc i'm unhinged)

–

You’re considering poisoning the vice principal of JCC.

It’s still in the planning phase, of course. But the true challenge, if this impossible task were to ever be achieved, would lie in the execution portion. Before leaving the airtight rooms of the laboratories, all students in the poisons department must properly discard any concoctions they’ve made in the fume hood (and any other chemicals that require extra care in their disposal are handled by the 24/7 toxic waste team). As many faculty in the department often repeat during their classes, the greatest poisons a student could ever make are arrogance and ignorance. For that reason alone, anything made for off-campus assignments is safely stored by lab managers in the school’s securely locked freezer until they must be given out.

Not to mention that every poisons professor also practices their due diligence by constantly updating the school chemicals inventory, which includes keeping track of the approved materials and poison recipes that students can take out of an extensive library of hazardous reagents, toxic substances, and highly coveted venoms.

That doesn’t mean that students haven’t tried to outsmart faculty or find a loophole in the system. Third-year Tanaka Kaito thought sneaking out with the tiny glass bottle containing his newest poison inside his mouth was a smart choice; and it might’ve been, if he hadn’t tripped over the lab assistant’s foot, which, coincidentally, happened to be in his way. Peers smarter than him have managed to avoid ruptured intestines or chemically burnt mouths, but considering these individuals–of which there are many–still fail and end up being expelled, stealing such precious items is not a risk many in your department are willing to take.

You understand the delicate position JCC is placed in when students break the institutional rules; since the JAA requires any poisons that are used by assassins or during non-educative assignments to be manufactured by those with a toxicology license, it makes sense that the JCC would adopt the most stringent guidelines to avoid a bad reputation.

Still. It doesn’t hurt to dream–or at least, you can’t get expelled for wishful thinking.

Besides, you have to find some way to pass the time in this dreadful class.

“Who are you thinking about killing this time?”

You blink, your eyes falling on the person who interrupted your delusions. The one who makes this class even more agonizing than should be tolerable.

“What makes you think I want to kill someone?” Flipping over the pages of your notebook to a blank one, you begin to scribble today’s course topic and can’t help but note the irony of you desperately wanting Ito-sensei to enter the room so he can start your least favorite class.

The Art of Espionage: For Intermediate Learners

From your periphery, you can see your dark-haired classmate leaning back into his desk chair as he deftly twirls a pocket knife in his hand, unfazed that all of his weight is balanced by one precious metal leg. He laughs lightly at your question, but it’s difficult to catch any mirth that follows it. “I always assumed only assassins carry bloodlust, but you proved me wrong. Though I guess I should’ve seen it coming.” His smile widens, a hint of smugness tugging the corner of his lips as he points the blade toward you like he’s just pointing a finger in your direction and not a potentially lethal weapon. “The ones in the poisons department do love holding grudges.”

You don’t know what others see in Nagumo. Sure, he’s objectively attractive–it would be stupid to argue that fact, and you’re not blind. And yeah, he’s one of the top second-year candidates in the intelligence-gathering department (though there are rumors of him wanting to transfer to the assassin program)–that’s not a surprise for someone who comes from a prominent family of spies, even if it is quite funny that the tidbit is well-known despite everything else about him being shrouded in the largest cloud of mystery…

…but any of those appealing characteristics seem to be thrown out the window the moment he begins to talk. And boy, does he talk.

“See, if I didn’t know any better,” he speaks up, yet again, eyes closed into half crescents as he cheerily jokes, “that annoyed look on your face says you wanna kill me!”

“Well, if you must know, you’re the third on the list. The first person is the vice principal for not switching me into another class.”

Each semester all JCC students must enroll in one class that falls outside the curriculum for their major. This is to ensure that their graduates are competent in all skills that they may need to succeed on the field or in the lab, even if it is unlikely they’d employ every skill on a daily basis. Since the best assassins, spies, weapons makers, and poison experts in the world are adept at rapidly adapting to different situations, it makes sense that the JCC would implement such a rule for their students. But that doesn’t mean you have to enjoy following said rules.

Your first semester at JCC wasn’t too bad. Technically, only third years can matriculate in poisoning classes–though there are a few introductory courses and practicums you can take starting your second year–so you’ve grown well accustomed to enrolling in classes that are beyond the usual chemistry and physics gambit. And since all students are allowed to rank their top choice electives, you were fortunate enough to get the History of Weapon Craft and Creation (considered one of the easier electives for those outside the weapons fabrication department).

The semester after, you barely passed Firearm Handling & Defensive Training, but at least that class improved your aim with the laser guns in the cafeteria, meaning getting less of those horrid JCC bowls. Yet your luck quickly ran out at the start of the second year, as this semester you now find yourself to be the only poisons department student in a room filled with good-looking, downright intimidating, and incredibly sharp intelligence-gathering students.

You have no idea how you were even allowed to take a class with prerequisites that are nested in the intelligence-gathering department, but your grievances fell on the deaf ears of administrative staff who didn’t even apologize for the scheduling mishap. (Then again, these are the same people who don’t bat an eye when students in the assassin department are gravely injured and even die during an assignment or in the middle of class. It’s no shocker that the second-year class size has considerably dwindled from last year.)

With all other courses being full, your choice was to stick to this option or switch to Martial Arts & Tactical Hand-to-Hand Combat for Advanced Learners. Even if you can’t avoid your fear of looking like an idiot in front of Japan’s future spies, you can at least evade the terror of literally dying by the hands of the country’s strongest assassins-in-training (you heard Sakamoto Taro was a killing machine, a fact you would be happy to simply believe rather than test out for yourself).

However, your earlier fears have now evolved into a living nightmare after Ito-sensei announced that everyone would be assigned a partner to work on assignments together throughout the semester. You didn’t know who Nagumo was until your roommate Asami gasped at the mere mention of him (which isn't even his full legal name! What is he, Prince?). Banging your head against the wall might be a more pleasant experience than having to hear her complain–for the umpteenth time–that you get to learn from such a ‘genius’.

Admittedly, it's only been a few weeks into the semester, but you're still having trouble identifying the genius part.

“Wow, how scary! I’m terrified!” Nagumo sounds anything but after hearing your empty death threat. “Who’s the second?”

“None of your business.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! Do I know them?”

You think about it for a second, drawing the potential lines forming the network before shaking your head. “Well, actually, yes. Because congrats, you’ve just been bumped up to #2.”

He grins at that, big eyes crinkling. “See, now that’s a better response! But wait, am I third–”

“Second, now…”

“–right, second on the list because I forgot to do my part of the presentation? I swear I meant to get to it, but I got carried away with an outside mission.”

Genius? More like a lazy piece of shit, you think bitterly, eyes squinting at him to scrutinize what he’s hiding under those large dark eyes and that apparently innocuous grin. Of course, because you suck at intelligence-gathering, you come up with nothing other than a pathetic, “Stop lying, you sucky liar.”

The corners of his lips droop a bit further down than usual, but he still manages to adopt that customary smile of his and waits for another beat. Fully aware that the silence and staring make you uncomfortable.

“About the mission or getting the work done?”

“Both.”

“You’re funny!”

“See what I mean about the lying?”

The chair he’s sitting on instantly lands on all four, the harsh sound of pegs scratching the linoleum floors making you startle against your better judgment. One hand rests on his chin as he raises a brow at you, clearly amused. “But really, why would I lie about either part? If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure we get top marks on today’s presentation.”

You only have enough time to offer your exasperated sigh as an answer, since Ito-sensei finally walks in and announces the start of today’s presentations.

“Good afternoon everyone, apologies for my tardiness as a meeting went over. In preparation for your first exam next week, each group will be reviewing a different fundamental skill for carrying out espionage. First tactic: seduction.”

When you hear your name and Nagumo’s being called out, your suddenly heavy legs slowly drag their way to the front of the room, already anticipating to make a fool of yourself with your half-assed presentation on how to seduce a target, a skill all these students staring at you in boredom more than likely have performed a thousand times before.

Straightening your posture, you’re ready to begin your long unnecessary speech on the purpose of seduction until Nagumo yawns. Loudly.

The action has you momentarily pause, soft tittering spreading throughout the classroom until you narrow your eyes at your beaming partner, clear your throat, and continue.

“Seduction can be used as a weapon when the person employs the technique to obtain an objective, as seen in–"

“This demo we’re about to show!” Nagumo cuts in, waving his hands animatedly as if about to introduce a mesmerizing performing act. Your confusion only continues to grow as he sharply turns on his heel to face you, bewildered to see that his usual bright smile has been replaced with a more coquettish expression on his face.

“What are you–”

“The word seduction means to ‘lead astray’ in Latin. Doing such a thing means you have to observe your target’s every move. How they move. How they look at you. At others. At their surroundings.” Every step he takes forward means you take one step back. Until you find yourself hitting the wall, your eyes widening with how cold it feels against the back of your neck. “How they react. How they respond to you.”

He doesn’t even have you pinned, his arms laying idly by his sides while you dumbly acknowledge you can easily escape right now. But for some reason, you feel trapped under that curious gaze, the upward quirk of his lips sending a weird shiver up your spine.

“Catch the changes in their body language.” He tilts his head, and when strands of his shaggy black hair tickle your cheek you fully realize the distance–or lack thereof–between you two. “Are they fearful? Or are they open to receiving your advances? Do they approach you just as eagerly?”

Since when did he get so close?

You gulp when his hand dances over your hip while the other outstretched one reaches your face, and you hate how your head instinctively leans toward the motion. It becomes harder to stand your ground while your gaze flits back and forth between the inked numbers on his fingers and those half-lidded eyes, a darkness so rare with how inviting it seems.

As he delicately brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear you wonder if he can hear the frantic hammering of your heart against your chest. Even if he can’t catch it, you can tell by the slight way his eyes glisten that he certainly knows, and maybe even relishes, the effect he has on you–the way you’re futilely trying to snap out of the reverie you’re currently in, drunk in the smell of whatever woodsy fragrance he decided to wear today mixed with the sickly sweet scent of that caramel candy he was chewing on earlier.

Well, fuck.

“And it’s in that moment, when their mind is distracted and more focused on you than their own thoughts”–his nose brushes yours, and your breath hitches as all you can do is close your eyes–“is when you make your move.”

You feel your lungs deprived of air the second he presses you deeper into the wall, one hand still on your hip as he uses the other to swiftly grab a piece of paper tucked in the back pocket of your pants.

A sharp inhale is what returns you to reality, your jaw slackening upon seeing him retreat and wiggle the neatly folded piece of paper he stole from you.

“Nagumo,” you nearly growl as you feebly attempt to get it back from him, which only seems to get him more excited as his face breaks out into a full-blown grin and he waves the item higher with that freakishly long arm.

“Should I unfold it? Reveal to all the secret recipes?”

“Do it and you die!”

“Is that a joke or a threat?” As if he’s some film actor breaking the fourth wall, he turns his head toward your classmates and winks at them. “You can never tell with poisons students.”

The room erupts into laughter.

If only you did lace that paper with poison! You’re mentally preparing to fight (and definitely lose) to him when Ito-sensei’s booming voice keeps you two in check.

“That’s enough, I believe we extracted the main point of your presentation. Either return to your desks or report to the staff room after class for wasting more of our time.”

Both of you don’t need to be told twice–you practically sprint to your desk while an elated Nagumo hums a merry tune from behind, your mind still reeling from what just happened while the chaos in the room dies down and the next group begins their presentation on deception.

How the hell was Nagumo able to do all of that? A presentation you conducted research and rehearsed for around two hours was something he easily accomplished in less than five minutes. And with you as the guinea pig! The thought makes your cheeks burst into flames, but you refuse to hide your face for fear of appearing weaker.

“What did I tell you?” He tosses the paper into your lap–still folded into its original position–as he sends you one of those big smiles that used to give you the creeps but now seems to evoke some other inexplicable feeling. “Top marks!”

The urge to spit out “No thanks to you” is so strong that you have to bite your itching tongue, because that would be a fat lie. So you let out a spiteful ‘hmm’, twitching fingers creasing the folded paper even further.

“Wasn’t it fun teaming up?”

He’s still a bit too close for comfort when he whispers the question, so you lean forward into your desk, trying your best to ignore the buzzing coming from the pest.

“You and I have different definitions of fun.”

“And how would you define it?”

“Not being near you.”

“Guess I’m not the only sucky liar on this team!”

That earns him a glare as you plot several ways to wipe that pleased look off his face. You cross off a few bad ideas that you’re embarrassed your mind even conjured.

“The silent treatment, huh…Didn’t peg you to be the type who does that.”

The eye roll you offer him appears to be a sufficient answer as he lets out a small huff and pretends to listen to his classmates’ project, his bored yawn louder than whatever is being presented. You naively think you’ll be able to endure the remainder of the class without his yapping.

And then he turns to you once again, an impish spark in those large, curious eyes.

“But I just need to ask–what’s written on that piece of paper anyway?”

You press your lips firmly into a straight line and stare at him, bemused that he hasn’t figured it out. He matches your stare, looking at you expectantly. Maybe he’s pretending that he hasn’t read it–with how fast he is, you wouldn’t be surprised if he only needed one or two seconds to skim over the writing.

Then again, you’re the idiot for having a physical copy of your plan to cheat and steal from the school chemicals and rare toxins inventory.

“It’s my formula for a poison that I’ll use to kill you.” Like a psycho, you grin triumphantly upon seeing the way his mouth turns into a tiny shocked ‘O’.

And like the maniac he is, he’s quick to return your smile, though it doesn’t quite reach those indecipherable eyes. “Looking forward to it!”

You’re too proud to admit that you feel the same.

#reader is a psychotic raging bisexual who is obsessed with making poisons and is in love w rion and nagumo what about it #nagumo annoys the hell out of reader esp when reader becomes the poisons expert for the order #(while they also run a perfumery as a front lmfao - the side hustle if you will)#once sakamoto retires reader is so sick of having to now be the one to listen to nagumo #and heavily considers shutting up nagumo by 'poisoning' him (but only so he passes out for a bit)#in the meantime reader just gives meds for nagumo's carsickness but tbh they just make him more violently ill as payback for whatever #shenanigans he pulls on mc #bc no one in that school is sane everyone there is mentally ill and they def get more unhinged leaving it #sakamoto days is such a good read too i need it animated expeditiously so more people are exposed to the goodness that is that series #again this fic will one day be fleshed out once i get more info on my beloved rion #nagumo x reader #the chokehold nagumo has on me #still thinking about him in that ponytail...yeah...

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sequinsmile-x · 10 months

Text

Par

Emily and Aaron's day keeps going from bad to worse.

And to think, when she woke up that morning her biggest fear was that the team would find out about their relationship.

-x-

Hi friends!!

This fic is a birthday gift for my bestie @aubreyprc! Thank you for continuing to be the most chaotic person I know and for being responsible for a fair number of my hangovers this year. Love you for being the maddest woman in this whole town xoxo

This fic is loosely based on a Bone's episode, and has one of your favourite tropes - a secret relationship, peril and a lot of drama- so I hope you enjoy <3

-x-

Words: 5.2k (I...got really carried away with this one)

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily secures her earrings into place as she walks into the kitchen, a smile washing across her face as the smell of coffee and toast meets her. Aaron has his back to her, focusing on her toaster so he makes sure the bread is cooked exactly to her liking, so she walks over and wraps her arms around him from behind. He sinks into her embrace, clearly having heard her coming, the way her high heels had clicked against the hardwood floor giving her away.

“Good morning,” he says, turning to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Morning,” she replies, her hand slinking down his back as she shifts to stand next to him, taking the opportunity to stamp a kiss against his lips, “You didn’t have to make me breakfast.”

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “You say that every morning,” he says, kissing her briefly before he presses the button that releases the toast, “And like I say every morning,” he says, turning so he wraps his arms around her, his hands low on her back, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

She smiles, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth as she looks up at him through her lashes. She hums as she leans in to kiss him again, “Excellent point.”

They’d been together for almost a year, the 11 months that had passed since their first date had been the happiest of her life. Since her return from Paris, he’d been the one person who’d expected the least out of her. Everyone else seemed to want her to slip back into her old life, to be the person she’s sure died on that cold hard floor in Boston, and she’d tried. She’d tried so hard to ignore how strange everything felt, how the fear that it could all be torn away from her again was ever present, living under her skin and making her itch in a way that never seemed to shift. Aaron simply wanted her to be honest with him, to tell her when she was having a bad day, a request she now knew came from a place of understanding, their pasts now similar in a way that made her ache.

She now liked to think, love making her softer than it ever had, that everything they’d been through had led them to this. To the relationship that she knew was it. Every first she had experienced with him also a last for her. A last first kiss, a last first night staying over, a last first I love you. She wanted everything with him. A house they could both call home. Marriage. A couple of kids who would be younger siblings for Jack.

The only problem was no one else knew about them.

The secrecy had been practical at first. She’d been home for just over six months when they got together, and they’d been hesitant to rock the boat, to further crack the unsteady foundation the team was slowly building under themselves at the time. Their relationship had grown around the secrecy, making it feel all the more precious because it was just theirs. Only Jack and Jessica knew and Emily knew it couldn’t last forever, that if they wanted to move forward, like she knew they both wanted to, they’d have to let the others in.

She didn’t remember the last time that they’d spent a night apart. They most most of their time at his place, something about the homely comfort of it, Jack’s belongings strewn everywhere, made her feel safe, but they occasionally stayed at hers. Even Sergio lived at Aaron’s now, his favourite place to sleep was at the end of Jack’s bed, the little boy and the cat fast friends in a way that made her chest bloom with love.

They’d stayed at hers last night, mostly for practical reasons. She had to go to court to be a witness for the prosecution for two separate cases that had happened to fall on the docket on the same day, so she’d needed to get clothes she usually wouldn’t wear to work. Juries seemed to warm to her a little more if she wore skirts or dresses, something about the lack of sharp edges from her usual suits that made her more likeable. It drove her crazy, and infuriated her that they were more likely to listen to her if she dressed in a certain way, but being aware of it was one of the benefits of her profession.

It also didn’t hurt that Aaron could never tear his eyes from her legs whenever she wore a dress, his gaze skipping from her ankle to up past her knee, only to linger on the material that hid what he knew lingered beneath.

She smiles at him as she pulls away from him and pours them a coffee each, her skin burning from where she can feel him staring at her. She turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow, her smile widening when she clears her throat and he jumps slightly, his cheeks going red when he realises he’s been caught.

“Seen something you like?” She asks, feigning innocence as his eyes meet hers. He shakes his head and steps towards her, his hand skimming her waist as he takes one of the cups of coffee.

“When I’m looking at you?” He says, looking her up and down again, his stomach flipping at the sight of her seemingly endless legs, on the high heels she only broke out for court and date nights, before he meets her eyes again, “Always.”

She presses her lips together to capture a laugh but she fails, shaking her head at him, “Correct answer, honey.”

He kisses her cheek and steps away, “Come on, we need to get you fed so you can survive court.”

Emily grumbles as she sits at the breakfast bar and he slides a plate of toast towards her, “Let’s just hope I don’t die of boredom.”

___

He always hated it when she wasn’t in the office.

He loved to look out of the window and see her at her desk, her presence enough to soothe any stress or tension the job could cause him on any given day. Sometimes she’d notice him looking down at her and her eyes would meet his, a sparkle in her smile that he knew was just for him and his son. Other times she’d be stuck in her work, concentrating on paperwork or teasing Derek or Spencer, flashes of who she’d been before Ian had torn through their lives peeking through. He’d loved her then and he loved her now, and he knew he’d love every version of her that would exist in their future together.

He checks his phone, waiting for Emily to text him to say she was out of her morning session in court, and he sighs as he places it back down when he has no messages from her. He’s about to pick up his pen to continue with his paperwork when there’s a firm knock on his door, a panicked Derek pushing it open before he can tell him to come in.

“Hotch,” he breathes out, his grip on the door so tight Aaron is sure he could tear it from its hinges, “There’s been a shooting at the courthouse.”

It takes a moment for pieces to slip into place, for him to realise the implication. The realisation forces him to his feet, his hands clasped at his side as he tries to control himself, knowing his girlfriend wouldn’t thank him for revealing their relationship this way.

“Have we heard from Pren-”

He’s cut off by the ringing of his phone and he grabs it, relief flooding through him when he sees Emily’s name on the screen, a picture of her and Jack his contact photo for her. He answers quickly, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he speaks.

“Emily, we just heard about the shooting,” he says, hoping Derek doesn’t pick up on the slip-up of using her first name, “What’s happening?”

Any relief Aaron feels is destroyed the moment a stranger responds instead of the woman he loves.

___

She hears him before she sees him.

He’s loud as he demands to see her, clearly flashing his badge to get past the cordons that had been put in place. She forces a smile on her face as he comes into view, rounding the back of the ambulance she was sitting in with purpose. Her heart aches when she sees how stressed he is, barely concealed fear and panic clear in his eyes, in the tension in his shoulder.

“Em.”

“I’m fine, honey,” she says, reaching out and grasping his hand as he climbs into the audience, barely glancing at the paramedic who had been treating her.

“Fine?” He exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing, “You’re in the back of an ambulance, there was someone here with a gun-”

She cups his face, cutting him off before he can spiral in a way that only she and Jack could draw out of him, “Aaron. I’m fine. I just rolled my ankle, thats all,” she says, nodding towards her now bare feet, her wrapped ankle and her heels neatly next to each other on the floor next to her, “Turns out that those stupid heels I have to wear to court aren’t the thing to dodge bullets in.” He sinks in on himself, her attempt at humour doing nothing to calm him down, and she sighs, “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”

“No,” he says, squeezing her hand tighter, “No you’re never stupid I was just…I was worried that’s all. Especially when I got a call from you and it wasn’t you who answered.”

“Well,” she says, flicking her gaze to the paramedic, taking some joy out of how he looks away, clearly intimidated by her, “Well I did say I was okay to call you myself, but there are apparently protocols.”

Aaron smiles softly, her dislike of procedure something that made him fall impossibly more in love with her every time it made itself known. His smile slips away as he thinks about what had happened here today, how he could have lost her in slightly different circumstances.

“Do…do you think they were aiming for you?” He asks, knowing he’d trust her judgement above all else no matter how she responds. She was trained in this kind of thing well above even him, a level of skill that hadn’t ever made any sense to him until he learnt about her time at Interpol.

The way her face falls, the way she presses her lips together, is all the answer he needs.

“Yes,” she replies, squeezing his hand, “I think they were.”

He nods and pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly as he kisses the side of her head, “The rest of the team are back at the office trying to get to the bottom of it. It’s likely connected to one of the cases you were here for today so Garcia is looking into associates for both of the defendants,” he says, “I’m going to take you home so you can rest.”

She rolls her eyes, “Aaron-”

“We’re going back to mine,” he says, leaving no room for argument, “And then the others can update me from there.”

She wants to argue with him, wants to insist that they go back to the office and figure out what is going on, but she can’t bring herself to. Not when he was looking at her like she could break in two, his grip on her bordering on too tight for the first time since they’d got together.

“Okay,” she says, cupping his cheek again as she relents, “Okay, but we need to go back to mine first.”

“Em-”

“Just to pick up some shoes,” she assures him,” her thumb running back and forth on his cheek, “I only have boots at yours, I think I’ll be regulated to sneakers for a couple of weeks.”

He nods, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, “Okay,” he closes his eyes and swallows thickly, “I love you.”

She smiles and moves her hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. She ignores how she can feel the paramedic looking at them, his curious gaze on her back.

“I love you too,” she replies, kissing him quickly before she pulls back to look at him, “Let’s go home.”

She lets him fuss over her.

He hands her a pair of his socks that he keeps in his go bag so she has something on her feet, the thought of putting her heels back on enough to make her grimace. When they get back to her place he wraps his arm tightly around her waist, guiding her to the living room and helping her onto the couch. She grasps onto his jacket and pulls him down to join her, resting her head on his shoulder as she traps him in place.

“Sit here with me for a minute,” she insists, curling around him, his arm hugged to her chest. She can feel the stiffness in his embrace, how tense he is. He was usually relaxed when it was just the two of them or when they were with Jack, an ease to his frame she hadn’t known he was capable of until she started spending time with him out of work. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

A laugh catches in his chest and he shakes his head, “You were the one who got hurt,” he replies, “I’m fine.”

She hums, deciding to let it go for now. She knew him almost better than she knew herself. He needed to work things out by himself, a hangover from years of having to do so. She was the same way, and slowly but surely they were getting better at not needing to turn inwards before they each other help.

“Have you heard from the team yet?” She asks, running her hand up and down his arm.

He nods, “They are interviewing both Grisham and Haig,” he says, blowing out a breath, shaking his head at the mention of the men they’d once hunted that she’d been due to give evidence against today, “And their families. We are leaning more towards Haig at the moment, Grisham’s MO was always explosives, if whoever is trying to stop you wanted to make a point that’s what they’d do.”

She nods in agreement, “Well, I don’t fancy getting blown up so is it weird I’m grateful?”

He chuckles, his real laugh that never fails to make her heart soar, and he shakes his head at her, “I understand what you mean, so if it’s weird what does that say about us both,” he kisses her temple, “Want something to drink before we head to mine?”

“I think there’s some Diet Coke in there,” she replies and he smiles and stands up, his hand firm on her thigh.

“There is,” he says as he walks towards her kitchen, “I got some when I did your grocery shopping last week.”

She moans in delight as she turns to look at him, her smile wide as he places his hand on the fridge door, “I knew I love you for a reas-”

She’s cut off as he pulls the fridge door open and he’s thrown backwards, the explosion that tears through her kitchen seemingly happening in slow motion as he hits the ground with force. The sprinklers almost immediately are triggered, soaking her kitchen with water as she jumps up off the couch.

“Aaron?”

He doesn’t respond, his silence only pushing her closer to him, somehow avoiding standing on any the debris that had once been her kitchen counter as she runs over to him, the pain in her ankle not even registering. She lands on her knees by his side and touches him, ignoring the shake in her hands as she turns him just enough to see his face.

She shakes him and he doesn’t flinch, making panic fill up her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Aaron?”

____

She’s barely been at the hospital for an hour when the team arrive, their presence both a comfort and a curse, forcing her to transition into a concerned colleague from a concerned girlfriend.

“Emily,” Penelope says, sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay?”

She nods, clearing her throat as she looks at her friends, “Yeah, I was in the living room, Aaron…Hotch took the blast.”

“What was Hotch doing at yours anyway?” Dave asks her, his hands in his pockets where he stands in front of her.

“He dropped me home,” she says, looking up at Dave, purposely ignoring the almost smug smile on his face, “He opened the fridge to get me a drink. You know what he’s like,” she says, her focus returning to her hands, “He’s a gentleman through and through.”

JJ nods, “That’s true enough,” she says, “We’ve shifted our focus onto Grisham because of the explosion.”

“How’s Hotch doing? What about his hearing?”

She blows out a breath at Spencer’s question. It had been her first concern too, something she’d mentioned to the doctors when they’d arrived by ambulance. “They said they’d test it, but he did wake up in the ER and he could hear me.”

It felt ridiculous that one of her first thoughts if he did lose his hearing was that he’d never hear her say she loved him again, or hear the voices of their future children. It was easier to worry about that, about things that may never come to pass, instead of the fact someone could have killed him in their pursuit if killing her.

“Family of Aaron Hotchner,” A doctor says as he enters the room, cutting off any further conversation.

“I’m his medical proxy,” Emily answers as she stands up, aware of the team all looking at each other curiously out of the corner of her eye, “Is he okay?”

“He’s got several cracked ribs, a broken collarbone, and a concussion. He’ll be in a lot of pain for a while, but he’s okay.”

The relief is palpable, her hand on her chest, “Can I see him?”

The doctor nods, “Of course, I’ll have someone come find you to take you to him in a moment.”

“Thank you so much,” she replies, blowing out a steady breath as she turns back to the team, unsurprised by the different levels of curiosity painted across their faces.

“You’re Hotch’s proxy?” Derek asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s mine too,” she explains, “We switched it a little while back, so if something happens Jessica and Jack wouldn’t be worried before they need to be.” The half-lie rolls off of her tongue with ease, but she doesn’t have the energy to figure out if they believe her or not.

Thankfully she isn’t left with enough time to worry about it when a nurse walks into the room to escort her to Aaron’s room. She limps all the down the hallway, the pain in her ankle returning now her adrenaline was disappearing. She thanks the nurse as she steps into Aaron’s room, and she barely hides a gasp when she sees him.

He was covered in bruises, the worst of them peeking out from under this hospital gown and the immobiliser that was holding his arm to his chest to stabilise his collarbone. He had cuts on his face, the largest of which was above his left eyebrow, and his right cheek was bruised.

“Surely I can’t look that bad,” he quips, and he smiles at her when their eyes meet. She sighs, unsure how they went so quickly from her making jokes about an injury to make him feel better to the other way around. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that morning, to pull him back into bed and cancel their plans for the day. He sighs and lifts his good hand as high as he can, the pain in his ribs meaning he can barely lift it from the bed, “Come here, sweetheart.”

She walks across the room and sits on the edge of the bed and she wraps both of her hands around his, “I hate today.”

He chuckles and squeezes her hand, “It’s not exactly on my top five list either,” he says, watching how she keeps her gaze on their joint hands, “Are you okay?”

She laughs dryly, and shakes her head as she looks up at him. She presses her lips together as tears press at the back of her eyes, “I think it was you who said ‘I’m fine it’s you who got hurt’ only a couple of hours ago.”

He sighs, “Em…”

She releases one of her hands from around his and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “You got hurt because of me.”

“I got hurt because someone is trying to get a serial killer out of being tried for his crimes,” he says, smiling softly at her, “It’s not your fault,”

She wishes she could believe him, that the guilt that was churning in her belly would go away, but instead, she nods and wipes another tear from her cheek, “The team are looking at Grisham in more detail because of the explosion,” she says, “And my kitchen is a mess.”

Aaron nods, “I don’t want you by yourself tonight,” he says, already sensing her argument, “I mean it, Em. Otherwise, I’ll check myself out of here against medical advice and make sure you aren’t alone.”

He knows he’s playing dirty, that he’s using her love and concern for him against her, but it works, she relents by nodding.

“Okay,” she says, leaning down to kiss him, “I doubt Derek would have let me go anywhere alone tonight anyway,” she pushes his hair off of his forehead, “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

“Always,” he replies, trying to sit up for a kiss but failing. She smiles and leans down to kiss him, “Since your kitchen has been blown up,” he says as she pulls back, his breath skipping across her skin in a way she’d worried she’d never feel again, “Maybe you should just officially move in with me.”

She smiles and kisses him once more before she pulls back, “We’ll talk about it once you can sit up straight by yourself, okay?” She says, even though she knows her answer could only ever be yes.

“Okay,” he replies, leaning back against his pillow, his smile turning sleepy from all the medication in his system, “Love you.”

“You too,” she replies. She stays until he’s fallen asleep, careful when she stands up from the bed so as not to disturb him. She presses a kiss to his forehead before she steps away and leaves the room. She gives herself a moment to lean on the wall, her palm against her forehead as she blows out a breath. “Fuck this has been a long day.” She steps away from the wall as she decides to find the team, ready to leave the hospital for the evening, already mentally counting down the hours until she can come and see Aaron again.

“Agent Prentiss?”

She turns to look at a man in scrubs just to her left. There was something about his face that was familiar, but she couldn’t place it, sure he must have been one of the many nurses they’d encountered in the ER when they arrived, “Yes?”

“There’s just a few more pieces of paperwork I need you to sign.”

She nods, letting him guide her away from the hallway, towards a more isolated part of the hospital floor. It’s only when she realises they are alone she starts to question it, her usually quick mental reflexes dulled by everything that had happened since she’d woken up that morning.

“Where are we-”

She’s cut off as a hand goes over her mouth, and a needle goes into her neck. She tries to call out for help, but her head starts to swim and her eyes drift shut, plunging her into darkness.

___

She wakes up quickly, startled as she tries to remember falling asleep. Her arms ache and she looks up to see her hands are cuffed together and hooked over a metal bar above her head, she tries to pull at them, to loosen the shackles but she fails. She tries to push down the panic that being handcuffed stirs in her belly, and she shakes her head in an attempt to physically try and rid her brain of the comparison to when Ian had held her captive.

“You’re not going to get out of them.”

She turns her head, the movement making her neck ache from the strain in her arms, and is only partially surprised to find the man who she now knew had been impersonating a member of hospital staff.

“You should let me go,” she says calmly, “I’m a federal agent, you’ll be in a lot of trouble for this.”

He chuckles as he steps towards her, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants, “You’re very confident for someone who has a gun pointed at them.”

“My team will find you,” she says, proud of herself for the steadiness of her voice, how it doesn’t shake.

He shrugs, “I think they are likely distracted by the other case you were due to talk about today,” he smirks, “The explosion was the perfect decoy.”

It clicks in her head, why she’d found his face familiar when he approached her at the hospital. He was the brother of Haig, the man she’d spoken against as part of the prosecution’s case that morning. He’d been one of the few people sitting behind Haig in the gallery, his eyes fixed on Emily the entire time she spoke.

“You’re Haig’s brother,” she says, and he clenches his teeth.

“His name is Josh.”

She nods and swallows thickly. He was unravelling in front of her, clearly not having thought any of this through beyond hurting her.

“How did you know about Grisham?” she asks and he laughs at her.

“I used to work for the DA’s office. They laid me off when my brother was arrested. When you arrested him. I still have contacts there who let me know about the other cases.”

“What’s your name?” She asks, trying to calm him down, the shake of his hand making nerves roll through her.

“Stuart.”

“Stuart, this isn’t going to help him,” she says, trying to reason with him, the ache in her arms and shoulders turning into pain that burned through her upper body, “This is only going to make things worse.”

Stuart steps towards her again, his finger over the trigger, “If you don’t talk again tomorrow he won’t go down.”

“That isn’t true,” she says, sucking in a breath as he steps even closer, the barrel of his gun against her abdomen, “Even if I’m not there, someone else will be called as an expert witness.”

“Who? He sneers, his breath smelling of whiskey and smoke as it washes over her, “Your boyfriend who almost had his face blown off?”

The door behind them bursts open and Stuart turns, his gun raised and pointed towards it, but he doesn’t have a chance to pull the trigger. A gunshot echoes throughout the room and he falls to the ground, his gun clattering across the metal floor. Emily blows out a breath and looks up, a sound she can’t name catching in her chest as her eyes meet her boyfriend’s.

The team was behind him, their guns raised, Derek clearly the one who had fired the shot that had taken out Stuart.

“Aaron,” she breathes out as he walks towards her, clearly in agony with every step he takes towards her. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, one she’s sure belongs to Derek, and his arm is strapped to his chest under it, “You’re meant to be in hospital.”

“Like I’d stay there once I found out you were missing,” he says, his eyes flicking up to her cuffed hands.

He knows he doesn’t have the strength to raise his one good hand to unhook her arms that way, so he ducks under the cuffs and into the circle of her arms, He stands up straight and her arms shift from where she’d been hooked to over his shoulders, and he lowers them both to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

They speak simultaneously and then they both laugh, which pulls a wince out of Aaron.

“How about we agree we don’t ask that question until at least the end of the day?” She says, and he nods, resting his forehead against hers as he tries to get his breath back.

“Sounds good to me,” he replies, stamping a kiss against hers.

“How did you figure it out?” She asks and a throat clears from behind them, and she suddenly remembers the team is there too.

“We watched the CCTV the minute we realised you were missing, Bella,” Dave says, walking over and undoing her cuffs before pocketing his key again. She lets the cuffs fall free and unwraps her arms from around Aaron’s neck but she doesn’t move away, “It didn’t take too long to put together.”

“And you let him check himself out of the hospital?” She asks, her face incredulous as she purposely ignores how Aaron protests next to her.

“Have you ever tried to argue with him, Princess?” Derek asks, his hands on his hips, “We can’t all get away with it like you do.”

She groans as he winks knowingly at her and she looks back at her boyfriend and leans in to talk to him, “I think we’re busted.”

He smiles at her, “Sweetheart, I think we were the moment your fridge exploded in my face.”

“Oh please,” JJ says, rolling her eyes at her friends, “We figured it out the moment Hotch ran out of the bullpen like a bat out of hell this morning when he found out about the shooting.”

She looks up at her friends with her eyebrow raised in challenge, “Look, we’ll answer all your questions later,” she says, her hand linked with Aarons, “But can you give us a minute?”

They all nod and Emily is grateful that they know when to push and when not to, and she smiles at Aaron when they back up enough to give them privacy. She leans in and stamps a kiss against his cheek.

“Thank you for coming to save me,” she says, pushing some of his hair from his face, her fingers tracing over one of the cuts on his forehead.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he replies, “Although if we could avoid making a habit out of it when one of my arms is out of action I’d appreciate it.”

She laughs and presses her forehead against his, “Deal.” She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe him in, the scent of him lingering under the smell of disinfectant and blood.

“Em?”

“Yes, honey,” she says as she pulls back to look at him.

“I could really do with going back to the hospital now.”

-x-

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