#real rashid baby I’ll get you out of there don’t worry

[acesstark]

everyone has their theories about the groan in the penthouse in Dubai like “oh it’s lestat” “oh it’s Armand” “oh it’s blah blah blah” ACTUALLY the groan is Real-Rashid locked in the basement so that Armand could steal his identity because he can Louis wanted to fuck with his ex boyfriend

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe, Vera Oberlin, Liam de Lioncourt, Amira Rashid (he/him), Dahlia Aquino

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, Amira/Vera

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 5/?. WARNINGS— violence, gore, drug use, smut; Oz and Zoe discover the meaning of his premonitions, and Vicky makes a fatal mistakes.

Zoe was kind enough to have brought Oz to one of her many dimensions of horror outside of time so they were able to brainstorm on Oz’s premonitions. The gurgle of lava or lungs filled with blood came with the slight breeze through the crooked window and Fear twitched hungrily from the volatile energy secreted by one of Zoe’s many homes.

A whiteboard materialized before them. “Let’s make this simple,” said Zoe, “you’re going to tell me every minute detail of your premonitions, and we’re gonna make a map of everything we can think of that connects to the details. Start with the first one.”

“I was watching myself wrap kilos of cocaine, but it looked like I was looking through a camera in my chest. When I looked up, I was staring down the barrel of a rifle. Someone screamed don’t move or something along those lines, I saw a flash, and then got a headache.”

“Okay, and the second one?”

“Well, there was blood and soot coming out of my fingers, my index fingers were bent backward, I saw blood and brains kind of floating around like soap bubbles. I started to fall forever. There were bright blue snakes in my eyes, as vivid as gems. I landed in a vat of bloodshed and lightning.”

“That is… that is intense.” Zoe finished her list on the whiteboard.

“Let’s start simple," Oz said. "The only person I can think would end up in a coke lab in any capacity is Brian. He’s got substance abuse issues. I know people say is pick of poison is alcohol, but I don’t see why he won’t escalate.”

“That’s a good start. Let’s take this into consideration, though: who could be on the other side of the gun?”

Oz shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest.”

“Oz… you think too highly of our friends,” Zoe scolded him. “I can think of several. Damien is wantonly violent. Vera and Vicky are regularly doing heists. Miranda has constant feuds with everyone under the sun. Polly will do anything for some drugs. God, there are so many fucked up folks at our school, I could go on and on.”

“Fair enough.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’m… I’m not sure. Raiding one of these places isn’t in anyone’s modus operandi. Maybe Polly for shits and giggles, but she would’ve told us something, don’t you think?”

“I do. That’s the most we can do for now. Instead of getting our shit in a bunch, let’s move on.”

“The snakes kind of remind me of Vera. I’m not sure why else there would be snakes in my eyes.”

“That’s a good start. Why would they be blue?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, when you think of blue, what do you think of?”

“Depression, rain, the ocean, storms, the sky. Brian since he’s always depressed. Dahlia is literally blue. Aren’t Vicky’s and Faith’s favorite color blue?”

“Yes, good. What about the lightning you saw?”

“I mean… Vicky electrocutes herself for giggles. I think Calculester and Vera listen to thunderstorms to help them sleep.”

“Fantastic. What about blood?”

“Damien’s a demon. He’s constantly covered in it.”

“Great, great, great. This is enough for us to start with. Why don’t you call Vicky, Vera, and Dahlia? I’ll tackle everyone else we brought up.”

“Can do.”

Zoe’s nightmare dimension evaporated. They were back in his apartment, where Oz picked up his phone and dialed for Vicky. It went straight to voicemail. She must have been busy, but it made his stomach churn. He tried Vera next and she too didn’t pick up. Oz knew Amira kept tabs on Vera, though. He called Amira.

“Hello?” Amira grunted.

“Hi, Amira. I know it’s late but I need to talk to you about Vera.

Amira cussed in the background. "One second," he grumbled as he rummaged around. "You're Gucci. Is everything okay?'

"I don't know." Oz sighed. "Okay, suspend your disbelief for a minute. I've had a couple of premonitions lately. First I had a premonition about someone getting shot in a coke lab. Do you know anyone who’d be involved in any way with coke?”

“Yeah. Vera has a drug trade.” He hummed. “Come to think of it, I overheard Vera talking with Vicky about robbing a lab.”

Oz’s chest constricted. The likelihood one of his friends would have been murdered dropped, and while he wasn't particularly disturbed by the idea of murder, the chance of Vera and Vicky shooting a hardened criminal with buddies didn't put him at ease. “Is she with you?”

“She’s not.”

“I need you to text her to call me as soon as she can, Amira. I-I know I’m kind of being a dick, but this is important.”

“You’re fine, Oz. I’ll get in touch with her as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much. Text me as soon as you can.”

“I will. Bye, Oz.”

Oz hung up on Amira and then dialed for Dahlia. Her phone went to voicemail. "Fuck!" he cursed as he threw his phone. It shattered and scattered across the floor like ceramic. Oz felt sicker and sicker, like something greater than themselves, Zoe and Oz, who were gods in their own right, incapable to turn the tides of something awful in motion.

Zoe hugged Oz. "Did she not pick up?"

"She didn't." He rubbed his face. "God, this is going in disaster."

“Look. We have a lead with Vera and Vicky. Let’s get some rest, baby.”

Zoe was right. Oz let her drag him into her bedroom where they were swallowed by a toothy maw made from red hot metal. Zoe dove onto Oz seconds before the universe vanished.

---

Vicky woke to her alarm with a sense of unease, like Eugene’s fingers were still in her hair, like his lips were on her cheek. The shadows were dodgy. Eugene’s phantom only felt more real when she only had two hours of sleep under her belt.

Shakily, Vicky dressed in leggings, a tee, and sneakers. Vera was outside of her apartment in a ratty, old SUV with her chauffeur.

“Morning. Are you ready?”

“No. I hardly slept last night. I need some coke so I can stop feeling like I’m running on fumes.”

“That’s not good. Here, just don’t overdo it.” Vera passed Vicky a partially unwrapped kilo of cocaine. Vicky gently scooped some onto her fingertips and quietly snorted.

There was only a second before she absorbed the coke. When it hit her brain, she felt great, better than the last couple of days treated her, at least. Like she was a big dragon atop a horde of warm gold coins and dispatched a platoon of pitiful knights with a swoop of her tail. She felt big enough to have swallowed Eugene and Stan whole as if they were no bigger than a grain of rice.

She sniffed. Her nose was a little runny. “That’s better. Where’s the body armor?”

Vera dropped a pile of heavy kevlar onto Vicky’s lap. She donned pads and a vest and a thick helmet. She attached two assault rifles to her vest and many magazines to her legs. She whooped as they turned, Vera slapped her back.

“You fucking ready?”

“I’m so fucking ready!”

They stopped. Vicky and Vera stormed.

Vicky kicked down the door and shot the coffee table. “Get on the fucking ground! Put your fucking hands up!” she screamed

“Fuck!” The three men and two women in the room hit the deck. Vera threw a jammer onto a shelf and secured the denizens with zip ties. She frisked them down and dumped their guns into her duffle bag.

“Who else is here?” Vera demanded.

“There are two more in the basement! They’re just kids, don’t hurt them, " begged a ghoul.

“We want your money and your drugs. Don’t move, and y’all will live,” Vicky said.

“If you take everything, we’ll be killed!” said a vampire.

Vicky slapped the talker with one of her rifles. “You’ve got me to worry about first! Shut the fuck up or I’ll blow your fucking brains everywhere! Have I made myself clear?”

The vampire nodded.

“How many guns are stashed here?”

“You gonna clean us out?” the vampire asked.

“I asked you how many guns are here! Do you want me to blow off your dick?”

“Let him go,” the ghoul implored, “he’s a dumbass kid. There are twelve guns. Two under the table, one behind the door, one in the bathroom, three in the kitchen, two behind the couch, and the rest were on our person."

“You get that?” Vicky shouted.

“Yeah! Just keep them busy!”

Vicky heard a snap. The young vampire, freed of the zip ties, charged her. She kicked him down and shot him in the chest, but she was tackled not a second later by the ghoul with a hunting knife in hand. He was only kept at bay thanks to her rifle barrel lodged against his neck. Vicky pulled the trigger. His disembodied head collided with Vicky’s, she shrieked something ungodly in her disgust and hopped to her feet.

“Fuck, bag what you got. We gotta go!”

Vera ran up the stairs and then they wildly shot into the living room as they escaped. They fell into the getaway car and sped away.

There were a few seconds, the longest seconds of Vicky’s life, where Vera and Vicky huddled on the seat as their chests heaved.

Vicky had shot someone.

It wasn’t the first time she hurt someone. When people got feisty during their heists, she shot them in the hand or foot, she even kicked some. But she killed one, possibly two people. She felt sick, even though her haze of coke.

“Did we get anything?” Vicky asked.

Vera howled with delight. “We got so much fucking money!” She opened her bag for Vicky to peer inside. “This was all just on a table down there. They had a bunch of kids counting it! I got three kilos on top of that. God, there’s gotta be at least half a million dollars in here alone. Baby, we are rich as fuck!”

Vicky’s eyes bugged out of her head. She eventually broke into a grin so enormous it made her face hurt. “Oh my god! We are fucking rich!”

“We’re in it now, baby!” Vera held her face and they hopped in place. “Oh my god, you’re amazing, you crazy bitch. I love you so fucking much! We’re set for at least another month.”

“You can go a month without doing this again?”

“Fuck no!”

Vicky couldn’t help but be intoxicated by the money and Vera’s own elation. There was just a learning curve, she told herself, she would catch up.

---

Oz woke and he was stiffer than rigor mortis and it felt like he was knifed in the lung. It made him crabby. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, and groggily surveyed his surroundings. Normally, Oz was a pacifist, but he sincerely wanted to wring the neck of whoever thought it was a good idea to kidnap him and Zoe.

When Oz looked down, his chest ache made sense. He was skewered by an oily black rod that reflected red light by the candles above them.

“Zoe!” he rasped. “Baby, where are you?”

“Fuck, stop screaming. I’m right behind you. God, my head is splitting, there’s something in my chest too, " she said. Her voice came from behind him. They were tired back to back.

“I think it’s the same thing in my chest,” he replied. “What the hell happened back there?”

“I don’t fucking know. I think we got swallowed by… by magic, or something like us. We have a lot of enemies. It could be one of them,” Zoe hypothesized. “That doesn’t matter now, though. We have to get out of here. Can you move?”

“If any of you so much as twitch, we won’t only kill Vicky, we’ll kill all your friends.”

Oz recognized that voice and it made his guts churn with horror. He craned his head over his shoulder to try to look at Dahlia. “Oh my God, Dahlia, what the hell have you done?" If the Aquino family was after Vicky, that had to have meant a declaration of war against the LaVey. "Dahlia, you're a fool! If you kill Vicky, you're going to bring the wrath of the LaVey family down on the heads of yourself and your loved ones. You will all be slaughtered!"

“Oz, shut up!” Zoe snapped. “Dahlia, look, I know you’ve got beef with the LaVey, but you can’t do this. The entire eighth circle of Hell will come for your ass if you kill Vicky. They won’t be merciful and you know that! Don't throw your life away like this. Pull out of this while you still can.”

Dahlia threw a chair. It exploded on the stone wall across from Oz. “No! The LaVey had this coming for a long time now, Zoe, and if the two of you had just kept to yourselves, we wouldn’t have had to imprison you.”

“Fuck!” Oz screamed. “Vicky hasn’t done anything!”

“She has! She fucked Damien, and now we’re gonna kill her and use her to fuck over Damien.”

“You are sick!” he bellowed. “Dahlia, I will kill you if you lay a hand on any of our friends!”

“Oz, shut up!”

“You two are cute. The thing is, with that spear in your chest, you’re virtually powerless.”

It dawned on Oz the spear was the reason Zoe told him to shut up. She wanted to create a distraction so he could pull it out since it would’ve been less obvious if he did it thanks to his position behind her. God, she was so much smarter than he was.

“Fuck, Zoe, talk some sense into Dahlia.”

“Dahlia. I know what you’re going through,” Zoe said, as Fear crept its inky appendage to wrap around the hilt of the spear. “I was needed to create chaos for eons. It was the only way I felt loved and accepted. But you deserve better than this! There are hundreds of wonderful traits to your name that you can make something out of yourself with. You don’t have to be-”

Zoe screamed. It sounded like the cry of seagulls and whales. Extremely pained, so much so, even Fear faltered.

“Zoe!” Oz screamed, “Zoe, what’s wrong?”

Dahlia skirted around their seats and smiled at Oz. “I cut off your girlfriend’s arm. If you try to escape before we kill Vicky, I’ll be cutting off more than just an arm. The next one is that big ol’ eye she's got.”

Oz never hated anyone before that moment. He glared at Vicky with vitriol that made his inky skin simmer.

"As soon as I'm out, I will make you wish you only had the LaVey to worry about, " Oz promised. "There's no coming back for you, Dahlia. I'm going to kill you."

Dahlia didn't reply. She only left them in the dark.

---

Vera and Vicky counted their winnings that afternoon. They took three hundred grand from the lab, and the kilos they took would have sold for another four hundred fifty grand. They were almost a million dollars richer. It was almost enough for Vicky to spend the rest of her life in retirement.

And Vicky stayed high. Vera gave her the coke out of her car. Vicky refused to come down.

To celebrate, Vicky took Vera and her suitor Amira, Liam, and her boyfriends out to party. She was only a quarter of the way through an expensive bottle of whiskey and as terribly as she danced, she felt like she ruled the dance floor, intoxicated by coke, booze, and the bass-heavy music that blasted from the speakers overhead. The way Damien and Brian sandwiched her, with their hands on her hips and in her hair, simply overjoyed Vicky. It was almost like she hadn't murdered someone hours ago.

When the bartender presented her with a three thousand dollar bottle of whiskey tied with a boy. Vera and Vicky were showered with confetti from party poppers as Liam took a photo.

Brian wrapped his arm around Vicky. He reached behind them for a glass and held them in place as Vicky poured generous servings for everyone.

"To the splendid duo!" Liam cheered. They toasted, and Vicky was surrounded by friends and loved ones. She hardly felt ill even as the image of their head falling onto her flashed before her eyes for a brief moment.

Vera was dragged into the dancefloor by Amira and Damien was off to create mayhem. Brian, Liam, and Vicky were left at the bar.

"It's a little weird celebrating robbery," Liam remarked. "Don't get me wrong, there's worse, but it is a little weird."

"It is. I shot two people today, and I killed at least one. I think this is Vera's way of trying to help me feel better." Vicky hopped up onto a stool and slowly sipped her whiskey. She felt Brian and Liam burn holes into her head with their eyes alone.

"Babe…" Brian mumbled, "are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Vicky, take this seriously," Liam scolded her. "We're worried about you. You killed someone today. I mean, that in and of itself is super fucked up, but you're my friend so I'm willing to overlook the legal repercussions for your wellbeing."

Vicky felt sick. "I'm… processing it, I suppose. It's kind of surreal. Vera says I would've died if I didn't kill them, and she's absolutely right, but… I don't know. Killing someone is different than what I thought it would be like. It's dreamlike. Like I'm looking into a box replaying the whole thing."

Liam pensively took a drink. "It's definitely not what anyone expects."

"You say that like you've killed someone too," Brian said.

"I'm four hundred years old. Of course, I've killed a couple people." Liam brushed his hair back. "All I can really say is time dulls the feeling. You'll learn to cope."

Vicky thought she coped pretty well before Liam decided to pry into her business, but she kept that to herself. She took the whiskey bottle and Brian onto the dance floor instead. Damien jogged over to them. They drank and danced.

“You,” Damien teased as he impolitely pried her whiskey out of her hands, “are beautiful in this lighting.” He took an impressive swig, held her chin, and kissed her. Whiskey drowned her mouth like arousal drowned the junction between her legs.

“Fuck,” she groaned. She kissed Damien’s neck, and then Brian’s behind her. “Let’s go to the bathroom for a quickie,” she whispered.

Brian and Damien never protested as she dragged them into the handicap stall.

Damien shoved Vicky against the wall. He sunk to his knees and pushed her pants and underwear around her ankles. His tongue slipped between her legs. Brian held her by her neck and kissed her. He played with her breasts through her blouse, and clumsily, thanks to all the booze and coke in her system, she slipped his cock out and stroked him.

Brian proved needy, however. Not long into their foreplay, he grumbled for Damien to move, he pulled her shirt over her head and then kissed her when he tossed it onto the floor. She was perfectly content to allow him to ravage her. As he fumbled with her bra, she kissed him and help his biceps with her hands. He grabbed her by her wrists and held them above her head. With a giggle, Vicky wrapped her legs around his hips.

He slammed himself inside her. Vicky adored it. He wanted her so badly. She must have been so pretty in the fluorescent light, with the way he stared into her eyes and wordlessly grunted. He tucked his face into her shoulder. He gnawed on her bolts. Electricity coursed through him and it made him quiver inside of her.

“Please fuck me harder,” she pleaded, “I need it so badly.”

Brian pulled himself out. Vicky protested until she was flipped around and bent over. He reentered her and rode her furiously. When Vicky looked over her shoulder, Damien poked her mouth with the head of his cock. She happily swallowed him, albeit clumsily between her inebriation and Brian’s roughness making her whole frame shake like a house shook in an earthquake. They shook her entire world.

Brian became sloppy. Damien pulled him out and they switched positions. He backed her up so Brian could fit between her face and the wall. She pulled him into her mouth, so deep she choked. Nonetheless, she happily bobbed with Damien as much as she could. Brian stroked her hair. He groaned and not seconds later, he came into her throat. She must have been so pretty, the way he slipped down the wall as Damien finished her off. Cum dripped down her chin as she came with Damien. She gurgled. Her legs shook as she was filled and filled.

Damien pulled himself out of her pussy. Brian passed him a wad of toilet paper to wipe up the mess. Brian pushed himself to his feet and held Vicky.

A knock came from their stall door and Vicky yelped.

“If you guys are finished in there, I’d kind of like to have a dance with my business partner, " Vera said.

“Oh shit,” Damien grumbled.

"I'll be out in a second!" Vicky replied. The three of them fixed their clothes and Vicky tumbled out with a sheepish smile. Vera was as uncharmed as she was drunk.

“Come on, let’s get you some dignity back.”

“I better be your favorite slut, at least,” Vicky said. That made Vera laugh.

Vicky was pulled back onto the dance floor. Amira handed her a drink with Kahlua and orange bitters before they took her into their sweet, sapphic arms. Vicky loved having girls for friends.

“You were amazing today!” Vera said. “I can’t fucking believe how much we got!”

“I shot someone. The cops are gonna be on our ass if they don’t have friends.”

“Yeah, but they would've cut your throat if you didn't do something. I’m glad you’re okay, and you know I’ll help with anything if you get in trouble. A lawyer, maybe some assassinations if we can’t rig the trial.” Vera laid their foreheads together. “Vicky, you’re my best friend. You and I have done so much together. I want you in my life forever. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Vicky grinned. “Like sisters?”

“Like sisters, honey. Like I want to plan your wedding with you and all that gross, lovey-dovey shit.”

“I want that too. I want you in my life forever, Vera,” Vicky confessed. She hugged Vera as they swayed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Crash and burn. But that’s not important because I’m here now. I’ll be here forever.”

“Me too,” Vicky said.

She felt okay. The sickness from her murder was still heavy, but Vera held her like family, and that was comforting.

[shotgunsandstars]

Back for More 89

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even if you read on AO3 a reblog would be nice. 

The prow made a smacking sound on the waves as it moved out across the Gulf. Altair was driving and that meant no one was bothering him. Thank goodness. He was regretting this. Kinda. Out on the water for four hours with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Sounded like torture. At least Desmond was around.

It was by far the most prepared he’d ever seen teenagers who went out on a boating trip. They’d brought two coolers. One for drinks and snacks, the other for the fish they hoped to catch and their bait. The coolers weren’t very big but that was more than Altair’s friends ever did. Lucy had also brought some fishing polls, two of them. They were really high end and even nicer than the one Altair had to offer. Rashid just had one to have one, neither of them really fished. They liked cooking fish, not catching them. They were all really surprised by how nice his gramps was in making them lunch even when he told them junk food was terrible for them and they needed real food when going out on the water for extended periods of time.

Now they were all sitting in the front of the boat and he could hear them talking but the wind and the water made it too loud to hear what they were saying. Altair just focused on getting them to where they were going. Which was a designated fishing area in the reef. A lot of the reef was protected and it was illegal to fish there but there were places it was allowed, places clearly marked by mooring buoys so you didn’t drop anchor and destroy the coral.

It took them about thirty minutes to get out to where the fishing and swimming was good. The water was maybe fifty feet deep and crystal clear so you could see down to the bottom and the huge coral heads popping up out of the sand. Altair turned off the motor and went around to the front to attach the boat to the mooring so they wouldn’t move around too much. As he did Rebecca and Shaun were leaning over the side to look at the fish and coral.

“This is really cool,” he heard Rebecca say.

“Let’s catch some fish!”

“Clay, there’s no need to yell,” Lucy sighed.

“He’s excited,” Desmond said.

“He’s gonna scare all the fish away if he yells,” Lucy gave Clay a look.

Altair just sat and watched. It wasn’t hard since he was wearing sunglasses so no one knew he was just watching them. Desmond said it really went with his ‘jerk jock’ vibe he had going for him. Altair wasn’t going to complain. They opened the bait cooler and got out the three fishing rods and went to the back of the boat where the sides weren’t so high.

He grunted when Desmond sat down on his thigh. If nothing else Desmond was right. He did enjoy that his boyfriend was unapologetically shirtless and was going to get so tan. Altair was into it. Everyone had slathered on a ton of sunscreen before going out except for Shaun who was apparently so white because of all the sunscreen otherwise he’d turn red in an instant. He was also the only one wearing a shirt out here. “Don’t look so mean,” Desmond said. Altair’s face was reflected in his own sunglasses.

“Huh?”

“You look mean.”

“This is just my face,” Altair said.

“That’s a lie. You mad?”

“No. I’m not mad.”

“Okay. Good. I was worried you were mad. They’re awkward around you too. They’ve never seen you outside of school or that one time you came to club and literally didn’t say anything.”

Altair made a face. “Fair enough,” he agreed.

“HA!” They both looked when Rebecca yelled. “Got something already!”

“What the fuck? That was so fast,” Clay said.

“I got the touch, baby!”

“They’re real weird,” Altair said.

“Uh-huh,” Desmond agreed.

“Ah!”

“Oh shit, I dunno how to take the hook out.”

“And useless,” Altair sighed. He gently pushed Desmond off him and went to where they were trying to get ahold of a yellow tail with limited success while it still hung off Rebecca’s line but flopping along on the deck. Altair stepped on it’s tail and grabbed it under the gills. He took the hook out of the fish’s mouth. Altair thought it made a weirdly satisfying noise when he did. The hook still had the bait on it. “Here,” he said.

“Wow. Thanks,” Rebecca beamed at him.

“How’d the bait stay on?” Clay asked in general.

“Fish sometimes don’t get to eat the bait and just get the hook,” Altair shrugged. “Just got lucky that time.”

Rebecca cast her line out again and Altair retreated some to stand under the awning that covered the wheel well and sit on the captain’s chair. They caught a few more fish but Altair had them throw some of them back because they were too small and having too small fish of some species on your boat with the intention of keeping was basically illegal. Altair also became the designated ‘take the hook out’ guy which he didn’t mind. He was the only one who didn’t take a hand at the rods but everyone else took turns. The fish were biting today too and they caught quite a bit.

Around noon they broke for lunch and opened up the amazing sandwiches Rashid had made for them. “I’m actually tearing up. This is so good,” Rebecca said as they sat around the prow eating.

“It’s literally a cold cut sandwich,” Shaun said.

“You haven’t even tried it yet, Shaun,” Rebecca scolded him. “Eat it before you judge.”

Shaun just rolled his eyes and took a bite. They all laughed when his face shifted into delight. “What did your grandpa put in these anyway?” Lucy asked.

“It’s roast beef, some veggies and a sauce he made,” Altair said.

“It’s the sauce,” Clay proclaimed. He had opened his sandwich to try just the sauce. “I want that in a bottle so I can put it on everything. It’s fucking. Amazing.”

“You can buy it,” Altair said. “He sells it at one of his restaurants-

“He has a restaurant?” Clay asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. Like four of them.”

“Really? That’s so cool. He own one here in Key West?”

“Yeah. It’s called Fins.”

Clay frowned, “Never heard of it.”

“It’s really expensive so you’ve never been,” Lucy said and gave Clay a look. “My mom and step dad went there for their anniversary. Mom said the food was probably the best she’d ever had.”

“Woah. Seriously? And if that’s a hint you want me to take you there good fucking luck,” Clay said. “He sell this sauce at Fins?”

“I don’t think so,” Altair said. “Fins is a high dining seafood place. They probably sell it at the one in Orlando tho-

“Where in Orlando?”

Altair wasn’t amused. “Not Disney if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, nothing is impossible right?” Clay said cheerfully.

“It’s his second restaurant. Pretty famous but cheaper. They sell traditional southern food like barbecue-

“He does barbecue too? What does your grandpa not do?” Shaun asked.

“Nothing? He’s a professionally trained chef. He does everything and thinks doing one thing all the time is super boring, so all his restaurants are different.”

“Still. Kinda weird to have an Arab guy who does barbecue isn’t it?” Shaun said.

“I’m just gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Yeah Shaun, don’t be fucking racist,” Rebecca smacked his shoulder hard.

“I wasn’t,” he protested.

“Or stereotypical,” she added.

“I think that’s pretty cool,” Lucy said. “Do you cook?”

“Uh… yeah,” Altair said slowly.

“And his food is amazing,” Desmond put in quickly.

“Man, if only my boyfriend cooked,” Lucy lamented.

“I know right,” Rebecca sighed dramatically.

“I can cook,” Clay protested.

“Boiling water for noodles is not cooking, Clay,” Lucy said.

“Hey, I try at least,” Clay grumbled and gave Shaun a dirty look.

“What? She can’t cook either,” Shaun pointed at Rebecca.

“That’s cause she lives on Doritos and Red Bull,” Lucy said.

“I do,” Rebecca agreed. She was drinking a big can of Red Bull too. “But that’s why my boyfriend should know how to cook.”

Shaun gave her an unamused look. “I live in Big Pine. How could I possibly cook for you all the time?” Rebecca just shrugged. Shaun ate his sandwich in a moody silence.

“Well, at least we’re all agreed on who has the best boyfriend in this situation,” Desmond said smugly.

“Eat it up, Des,” Clay grumbled.

“I do— don’t fucking say a thing,” Desmond threatened and gave Clay the evilest eye he could.

“I didn’t say anything,” Clay said innocently.

“You were thinking it you pervert.”

It took Altair till then to get it. “Oh,” he said. That made Clay laugh.

“You too,” Desmond threatened him now.

Altair just gave Desmond a look as best he could through his sunglasses, raising his eyebrows at him slowly. Desmond was already a little red from the sun but Altair could tell his face was even more red. “Anyway,” Altair said as he finished off his sandwich. “You guys going to fish? Cause I wanted to swim.”

“You shouldn’t swim after eating,” Rebecca said.

“That is literally a wives tale and has no scientific backing. I think I’ll be fine,” Altair said and rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He dusted his thighs off from crumb and got up.

“I think we did our fishing,” Clay said. “Got more than enough.”

Altair just nodded and opened up the seating to take out a mesh bag with his snorkel and fins in it. “Anyone have the time?” he heard Lucy ask as he went down to the back of the boat where he could dunk his head and the mask into water. As he did that the boat tipped a little as someone jumped off it with a whoop. He guessed it was Clay because immediately after was Lucy’s concerned, “Don’t do that!”

Desmond came up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked up at him. “You don’t have another mask do you?”

Altair dug through the mesh bag. “Yeah, I do. But if you’re going to go out there you should put on some more sunscreen. You’re starting to look a little red.”

Desmond looked down at himself like he could tell the difference. “Oh. Good idea. Will you help me?”

Altair wasn’t sure if you could tell through his tan but he definitely blushed when Desmond asked that. Allah. How many pornos had he watched (and mostly skipped over this part) where this was the exact premise? Of course, that wasn’t going to happen because they were in the middle of the Gulf with Desmond’s friends but still. Judging by Desmond’s little grin he knew it too. Oh, his boyfriend was the worst. “Ah— sure,” he said because of course he was going to help his boyfriend put on sunscreen he wasn’t a god damn idiot!

He got up as Desmond went and grabbed the bottle from Shaun and met Altair back by the covered captain’s chair. He handed Altair the bottle and turned around so Altair could start with his back. They didn’t have the spray on block either so he squeezed some on his hand and Desmond rolled his shoulders a little when Altair rubbed it on his shoulder blades and then down. He definitely took his time doing it too, running his hands down Desmond’s spine and along his flanks and the back of his arms. “Okay, done,” he announced and Desmond turned around.

Altair looked over Desmond’s shoulder where Shaun and Lucy were still sitting and drinking some soda. Shaun was also bickering with Rebecca who was hanging off the front of the boat about something. “What? Nervous my friends are going to think you’re feeling me up?” Desmond asked him.

“Oh. Was I not supposed to be?” Altair asked him sarcastically. He put more sunscreen in his hand and started with the front of his shoulders and his arms. Desmond didn’t have a real runner’s body, he was just sort of fit but was nice and soft when Altair ran his hands over his chest and stomach. Altair liked that about him since he was more skinny and muscular than him and it meant Desmond was perfect to cuddle against nights he came over or the few times Altair had stayed over his place.

“Hey, watch the love handles,” Desmond complained when Altair got a little handsy with him.

Altair scoffed. “Those are barely love handles.” It was just a bit of extra fat on his hips and Altair could barely say that it wasn’t just the way Desmond’s body distributed all his weight around and less that he had actual love handles. “And they’re called love handles, that means to handle them you have to love them.”

Desmond choked on his own laugh. “That was so fucking lame,” he told and pushed Altair off him.

“Hey! I’m not done yet,” he protested and pulled off Desmond’s sunglasses. He put a bit more sunscreen on his hands to wipe it on Desmond’s cheeks, forehead and nose. Desmond just squeezed his eyes shut and let Altair put the sunscreen on his face and hummed a little when Altair kissed him. He tasted like cooler food and sunscreen thanks to getting a big whiff of the stuff. “Okay. I think you’re properly protected from the sun now,” he teased Desmond.

“Yeah, and what about you?” Desmond challenged.

“Ah. Well unlike you I don’t actually get sunburn. Perks of having all this lovely melanin,” he said and waved his dark skinned hand in front of Desmond’s face.

“Man, you just know how to go from cute to jerk in three seconds flat don’t you?” Desmond said but Altair knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.

“You’re still dating me,” Altair said with a cheesy grin.

“I know. I must be out of my god damn mind,” Desmond said sarcastically.

“You still want to use the mask?”

“Uh-huh,” Desmond nodded.

Altair went back over to the back of the boat and had to get the mask and his face wet again to help with the suction. He also dunked his fins on and wiggled them on. Desmond was waiting for him by the time he was finished and he pushed off the boat to join him. Up by the front he heard the others splashing about and once he was in the water Desmond swam up to the bow. Altair really didn’t want to follow him but he did anyway.