#she puts on the thinnest mask possible in hopes someone will care enough to look underneath

[technicolorxsn]

once again thinking about ddlc+ and sayori

[s-c-r-i-p-s-i]

Cruel to be Kind

[Dead by Baelight’s Kinktober // Day 3, 17, and 24 : Knifeplay, Bond, Basement]

🖤 🖤 🖤

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

“I mean I could,” Danny conceded, casually throwing up his hand in a sort of shrug gesture that Frank was positive was specifically manufactured to show off his knife and the fact that he was holding it, steel glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

🖤 🖤 🖤 Pairing: Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Legion (Frank Morrison)

Rating: Explicit

CW: homophobia, non-con/dub-con, knifeplay, bondage, smut, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2,828

“Well, well, well. What do we have here…”

Incredulous, Frank squinted at the man through the pinhole slits of his mask, lip curling over his teeth. “I - You’re literally the one that did this. You haven’t even left the room.”

Ghostface had torn him away from the lodge and tied him to this fucking chair in the basement - and Frank had been helpless to stop it, because even with all their God-given gifts from the Entity, Danny was still stronger than him.

All the others had fucked off, Joey in a Trial somewhere, and Jules and Sooz were… doing their thing. (God help anyone who fucked with ‘girl’s night, that shit was sacred.)

The minute he’d been left alone, that fucker swooped in like he’d been waiting - shit, maybe he had been. Creepy bastard.

And now he had the audacity to act like he’d just stumbled on him here? For - what - dramatic effect?

The man deflated exaggeratedly, his head flopping to the side like his neck suddenly just couldn’t support it anymore. “Don’t be a party pooper, Frank.” He sighed, somehow managing to make even disappointment reek of dishonesty and condescension. Nothing about that guy was real. Not a goddamn thing.

Releasing a nostril-flaring, profoundly annoyed breath out from his nose, Frank bunched his hands into fists so tight his fingers cracked and tried testing out his restraints behind his back. He wasn’t terribly surprised to find the ropes completely unyielding, but it still shot an ample dose of pure, uncut panic right into the mainline. Not that he’d ever fucking show it. Frank didn’t even want to think about the level of sadistic glee Danny would bag from that. A whole metric fuckton, he was sure. “You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

“I mean I could,” Danny conceded, casually throwing up his hand in a sort of shrug gesture that Frank was positive was specifically manufactured to show off his knife and the fact that he was holding it, steel glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

Frank did not like it there. It was the place where the veil - if there was such a thing - between the realm and the Entity was the thinnest. The place where her whispers were the loudest. It gave him the creeps. Of fucking course Ghostface would feel right at home there.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?” There was a beat of silence, just long enough for Frank to realize what a stupid fucking question that was.

“…I’m starting to think you don’t grasp the concept of ‘surprise.’ That’s fine.” He said, hooking his knife underneath Frank’s hood and knocking it off his head, gently tracing the flat of the blade along the side of his neck. It was cold against his skin, and he had to reign in a shiver. “I never did pick ‘em for their brains.”

Pick… who? Frank wondered. His victims? “If you kill me I’ll just come back,” Frank scoffed a little too quickly, sounding nervous even to him. Dying fucking hurt. And it’s not like it happened all that often for him to have built up some kind of tolerance to it - if that was even a thing. “What’s the point in that?”

“Very astute, Frank,” Danny cooed, quietly flipping the blade so that the sharp side was just grazing Frank’s neck. “But…” He continued, leaned back and quiet, like he was distractedly admiring the sight. “I think that overlooks an awfully big part of the whole appeal. Don’t get me wrong; I’ll admit, that little caveat can be a little… dissatisfying at times. But I’ve never killed people just because I want them to stop existing. That’s boring.”

If he weren’t literally being held at knifepoint, Frank would have let his head fall back with a groan. Did he ask for a fucking monologue? Was that why he tied him up? So he’d be a captive audience to his bullshit?

“No,” Danny continued, “Sometimes… You just want to watch ‘em bleed.”

A sharp, stinging pain biting through his neck had Frank suddenly sitting up a little straighter, muscles clenching at that zing that shot through him.

That son of a bitch actually cut him!

“Fuck. Off.” Frank grit out.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Frank grunted at the weight of the other man suddenly dropping himself into his open lap, no warning or discretion, just plopping down and straddling him like he owned the place. Once Frank got over the initial shock he immediately tried to jerk away in protest. Shit, Danny was surprisingly dense for someone so short. Heavy. “What the fuck are you eating, guy?! Get the hell off me, you fucking… fag.”

Another beat of silence that seemed intentionally timed to make him start regretting it. Not that he needed any time to regret it. Saying it always made him feel fucking gross. But he’d rather just bullheadedly… keep on keeping on than actually acknowledge that weird ass feeling.

“Hm.” Danny lifted Franks mask, sliding it up and off his face to rest on top of his head. “That’s an awful nasty word for someone who regularly fools around with another guy, himself, don’t you think?”

It didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be a stinger, it felt like he was just… asking. Taking off his mask like this was some kind of personal aside, just your friendly neighborhood Ghostface, checking in. It only pissed Frank off more, clenching his teeth tightly before finally responding.

“That’s fucking different. I’m not gay.” Most of the time that he was with Joey… that way - which was the only thing he could possibly be alluding to - it was all of them. Together. Threesomes or foursomes or whatever weren’t gay. It was hardly ever just the two of them; sometimes he had Joey blow him or something but that was it. And even if they did do shit - that was Legion. It was different. Danny wouldn’t understand. (How could he? He didn’t have anyone or anything.)

“Call it what you want, handsome.”

Frank’s lips couldn’t help but tug in two different directions at that little nickname, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to scowl or laugh. The middle ground was an embarrassing, wobbly, stupid little smirk that he just couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

Mercifully, Danny didn’t call any attention to it. Returning the knife to his neck - on the opposite side now, Danny dragged it around to catch just under Frank’s chin, forcing his face up. Frank put on a tough face, jaw clenched, chin jut resolutely, eyes full of defiance, but he was hanging off every word and the bastard knew it. It was just - he was taking that little barb suspiciously well, and part of him was kind of just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to plunge the knife straight through his throat.

Instead, he leaned in and said “…But a spade’s a spade.” Then… he just eased off. Removed the knife. Pulled back.

And just when Frank thought he could take a breather -

“So you like dick!” Ghostface announced like it was one half of a headline, and far too loudly for comfort.

Frank visibly startled at the emotional whiplash, blinking back shock and incredulously glancing around the basement for witnesses even though he knew it was just the two of them. His mouth hung open, tongue buzzing with some acidic, half baked response that he never managed to get out.

“Big deal, that’s nothing to be ashamed of! And- not that it did before- but what the hell makes you think that kind of thing matters here? What are you scared of? The survivors? The Entity? You think big momma in the sky is gonna fucking… Spank you? She doesn’t care.” Danny huffed, clearly amused.

“I don’t-…” Frank sighed, gaze averted. He was tired of arguing, and hoped the note of… genuity? Would make him fucking drop it.

Fat chance.

In retrospect, maybe he should have just gone down kicking and screaming.

His attempt to deny everything was swiftly interrupted by a breathy laugh that Frank was disgusted to discover he actually found kind of cute. Until he promptly ruined it.

“Sorry - what was that? I can’t hear you over the fucking boner that’s been brewing ever since I sat down. You know your dick kinda jumps whenever I hold the knife to your throat?” Danny shook his head, chuckling. “No offense - but I think whether or not you’re gay is the least of your problems, you adorable little sicko.”

Furious, indignant heat shot up to the surface, Frank’s face becoming utterly inflamed as he burst out the first thing that came to mind. “F-fuck you!”

Okay - it wasn’t a particular intelligent, or even good response, but what the hell else could he say? If he was free, he’d just start talking with his fists, (or his boots, or his teeth) but there wasn’t shit he could do. Not that he wasn’t champing at the bit to try, struggling against the restraints so hard the friction was starting to make his wrists feel raw.

“No…” Frank could just hear the shitty smile in his voice as he put the knife away. “That’s not how it’s gonna go. You can blow me though!” Danny decided cheerfully, hopping off his lap and resting his hands on his hips, looking down at him expectantly. He had to be joking - he had to. But he didn’t even budge.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! I’m not going to-”

“Sorry,” Danny gestured dismissively, as if he could just wave away the opposition, “Let me be more clear.” He told him, the smile gone from his voice as he spoke slowly, with a dangerous precision. It was such a severe tonal shift that Frank actually stopped struggling just to listen.

“You’re going to blow me. And if I feel any fucking teeth, I’m going to kill you, and every one of your friends.”

He felt the jolt in his core, but didn’t quite connect the dots that his body had reacted until he heard Danny snort, and realized that - not only was he right about his dick twitching, but Danny was playing him like a fucking fiddle. That wasn’t a threat, it was dirty talk. And he fell right for it.

Frank had to admit, the logistics of how he was going to do this while tied up weren’t exactly at the forefront of his mind as Danny began pushing the opening of his coat aside and tinkering with his pants.

And maybe he should have been more concerned, but asking would have been too close to - he didn’t know, acceptance? And he was still stubbornly clinging to the idea that he didn’t want this, despite the evidence on full display to God, the Entity, and whatever the fuck else was out there, no amount of twisting around doing anything whatsoever to conceal the painfully obvious bulge in his pants.

What he was thinking, was how it was kind of fucked up that the first real flash of skin he’d ever seen of the guy was his dick. That was like glory hole levels of dirty; it should have squicked him out that he had no idea what the guy looked like underneath that mask, should have had bile crawling up his throat, but it didn’t. He had a lot of pretty clear expectations in his mind about how he should have been feeling at that moment. But maybe Danny was right, maybe he was more fucked up than he thought. Because all he could feel was hunger.

Frank would be hard pressed to call another man’s cock pretty, okay - but it kind of was. He was paler than he was expecting, and he wasn’t sure why, he’d probably seen pictures of him at one point or another, international sensation that he was, but fuck if he ever paid any attention to the news. But he was from Utah or some shit, and Frank didn’t know all that much about the US but he guessed it made sense that he was whitebread whitebread. It just made it incredibly obvious how flushed it was, so very, very pink. It might have been funny, if it weren’t intimidatingly massive. Kind of lean - Frank could definitely say he was thicker, and yes, he was immediately mentally comparing like it was some kind of competition - but long. Sleek. With a glint of metal at the tip - that was unexpected.

“That’s right,” Danny hummed, gloved hand stroking himself to grip at the base, cock head swelling as he flexed it. He was fucking incorrigible, the cheeky bastard. “Keep staring. You’re really selling me on the heterosexuality.”

Fuck - that’s right, his mask was off. His eyeline, and his every goddamn expression completely out in the open. He was pretty sure he was still scowling - that was just the default - but he wasn’t sure it was terribly convincing.

“Someday, Frankie, you’ll realize what a gift this is,” He continued, faux-wistfully as he stalked forwards and grabbed the posts on either side of the chair back. For someone who wasn’t all that tall, he was awfully good at looming. Commanding attention, like he was the only thing in Frank’s entire field of vision.

The chair started to slowly tip forward, back legs lifting off the floor. Frank’s stomach lurched, and he immediately barked out in protests. “Hey!”

“Really - you should be thanking me,” Danny ignored him, steering the chairposts, dragging them down, down, down, tipping him further and further forward.

Frank felt like his heart was going to fall through his ass, if he didn’t go into cardiac arrest, first. Danny’s cock was practically in his face now, but all his lizard brain could think about was how he was going to fall flat on his fucking face, his arms frantically struggling to break free from behind his back so he could catch himself.

He couldn’t possibly be intending to…

“No teeth,” He warned, before pulling Frank down onto his cock by the chairposts, driving him down until he was forced to take him into his mouth. Danny sighed in relief at the warm, wet heat, guiding him down, unbothered by the choked sound of panic muffled around his cock as a particularly sharp falling sensation shot through Frank’s gut.

“Taking your choice away is the best thing that could happen to you.”

Oh, if looks could kill. Frank’s eyes were filled with hate, tears pricking at the corners as his nose finally bumped against Danny’s pelvis. The mask was looking down at him, unchanging expression mocking while he fought just to breathe, noisily and erratically shuddering through his nose, the intrusion down his throat making it feel like he was perpetually choking on top of perpetually falling.

“Now you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it, or what it means about you,” Danny continued blissfully, rocking the chair back and forth, guiding him up and down on his cock like he was nothing more than a fleshlight. Frank’s frantic heaving was starting to sound wet, snot loosening down his nose as he desperately snivelled for air.

And yet despite it all, he could still feel that dull hum in his core. Muted, slightly, by the glut of overstimulation everywhere else, but there nonetheless, and constant. Begging for just a little of that attention to be directed there.

“You can always just say it was my fault. That I made you.”

Frank could hardly track what he was saying, but that feeling in the bottom of his stomach was starting to get sharper, an urgent fullness that was becoming more and more demanding by the second.

“And you’ll never have to learn-” Danny interrupted himself with a short grunt, and Frank could feel his cock twitch in the back of his throat, “Or grow or self-reflect. Aren’t I nice?” He pulled out, and the sound Frank made as he gasped for air wasn’t pretty, snapping the thick threads of spit still connecting them.

Danny kept him suspended there, one-handedly holding up the chair while the other lowered to pump at his spit drenched erection. “Thank me.” He growled.

“F-fuck you.” Frank managed to choke out, feeling pretty proud of himself until warmth splattered across his face, and hot mortification rushed to the surface. But apparently not even the embarrassment of Danny cumming on his face was enough to tamp down his want, arousal flaring parallel.

“Hm.”

Suddenly he was thrown back, chair clattering and pain shooting through his arms as he collided with the floor.

“Surprise,” Danny’s voice floated down to him, colder than he’d ever heard it as Frank’s vision struggled to come together in one picture.

Two Danny’s hovering over him. Two knives glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“Maybe you should have thanked me.” 🖤  🖤 🖤

Thank you for reading!!!

🖤  🖤 🖤  

Notes:

For Pugge, without whom, the DBB server - and this fic - would probably not exist. 💖

Thank you to Rea for being my beta for this one, and the whole DBB server for encouraging this humble degen 🥺 Update: OMG thank you to @ApolloPale for taking inspiration from dis humble oneshot and drawing this piece! Which is now the Header!

This piece was written for Day 3, 17, and 24 of the 🔞 Dead by Baelight 🔞 Discord server’s Kinktober. Anyone over 18 is welcome to join here.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 12

Warnings: none

Tagging: @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​

Preparing to leave the house with five kids in tow is a full-time job all in itself. Bathing them after a long and active day at school, getting them dressed –which includes incessant bitching and moaning about the textures of clothes and how the tags are ‘too itchy’, having to actually put on socks and shoes-,  and giving them the usual list of warnings before even stepping out the front door. No arguing, no fighting, and no bad language. And by the time you manage to get to the front door, at least two have to go to the bathroom and another wants to change what they’re wearing.   This time it’s Millie; her self-described princess dress suddenly not ‘princessy enough’. Opting for one with more frills and more sparkles and way too much pink, then insisting on topping the look off with her well-worn light up Spiderman sandals.  Tyler had long ago learned to pick his battles, especially as a girl dad. Was suggesting nicer shoes really worth the epic diva style meltdown he’d have to endure? Especially when he’d rather be in flip flops or even bare foot himself?

“I honestly do not care,” he says, when she holds aloft the sandals with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Other parents would force their kids to comply; embarrassed by the mismatched lock. But he’s gotten so used to carting around boys dressed in superhero costumes –masks and all- that the stares and whispers of strangers don’t both him anymore. And fighting over shoes with a soon to be six-year-old is not the hill he wants to die on. “Do what you want.”  

For a brief moment –as he buckles the three oldest into the their car seats in the very back of their second, and much larger, vehicle, he muses about just how different his was now is compared to the one that he used to live. When he was drunk off of his practically twenty-four seven, numbing the pain, guilt, and grief with a potent combination of booze and pain meds.  Back in that little shack of his in the Outback, with nothing but a dog and a chicken to keep him company. When he was totally committed to the job and spending his days fighting to keep himself –and quite often someone else- alive in dangerous situations. When he was battered and bloody and sometimes on the brink of death. Now he’s proficient in changing diapers, fixing bottles, and making and packing school lunches.  A far cry from the old days.  And for a brief moment, the thought makes him feels sad; that his existence is nothing more than a mere shadow of what it used to be. That he’s gone from one extreme to the other.  And it shouldn’t; he’d made the conscious decision to give it all up. For his family. So he’d be able to hold his marriage together.  

And the sadness is replaced with guilt; that he’d miss the job while getting the opportunity to even have kids and watch them grow. A lot of guys in the job weren’t so lucky; they either never turned alive to their wives and kids, or their marriages completely disintegrated, and they never saw their children again. That’s his worst nightmare; things falling apart and either rarely getting to spend time with them, or not being able to see them at all.  Being a dad has given him something to take pride in; raising tiny humans that will hopefully one day grow up to be amazing big humans.  Decent adults with compassion and humility. Fiercely independent. Alarmingly intelligent. And it’s given him a chance to finally do it right.  He’d been an epic failure as a father with Austin; he’d been cowardly and selfish and would never truly forgive himself for it.  But he’d been given another chance; entrusted with helping bring five beautiful lives into the world.  And he’s determined not to fuck that up.

“I don’t wanna wear shoes!” TJ laments, and proceeds to use his toes to push his sneakers off one heel, then the other, letting the offending items fall to the floor of the SUV.

“Listen, mate. We’re not going to fight about this. If your mum says you wear shoes, you wear the shoes.”

“This is crap!” Tanner chimes in. “My feet are so hot! Like they’re gonna catch on fire!”

“No one’s feet are going to catch on fire,” Tyler assures him. “You’re wearing the thinnest socks possible. We get there, the shoes go back on. And how come you guys don’t have to wear normal pants?”  They’re clad in matching tan cargo shorts; one in a green and white stripped golf shirt, the other in blue and white.  Always insisting on matching in some way, despite the fact their parents have purposely dressing them differently from day one.  

“’Cause we’re only five!” Tanner huffs, as if he’s just been subjected to the dumbest question that’s ever been asked in the history of mankind.

“By the way,” Tyler says, as he finishes buckling Tanner into his seat. “I want my fifteen bucks back that you scammed me out of the other night.”

“I got that money fair and square,” his son argues. “I got you the info just like you asked.”

“Your mom gave me the info. Which technically means half of the money should go to her.”

“It’s not my fault that you fell for it, daddy. You should be smarter than that. You got totally played by a five-year-old.”

“He’s not wrong,” Esme says as she appears alongside of him, clutching Declan by the hand, the baby resting along her forearm. “You did fall for it.”

“You’re in on this together, aren’t you? You probably put him up to it. You’ve been teaching him some of the tricks of the trade. Getting him ready to follow in your footsteps. I bet he even split the money with you.”

“Please just put the kids in the car before we’re really late,” she implores, then stands on her tip toes to brush her lips against his. Which in turns prompts loud and dramatic gagging from all three of the older kids.

“Don’t do that!” TJ cries. “We don’t need any more babies in the house! Why can’t we have a puppy for a change? I don’t want any more sisters!”

“Well I don’t want any more brothers either,” Millie retorts, and sticks her tongue at him.

“Okay, don’t start.” Esme warns. “At least wait until we’re out of the driveway. And besides, it takes a lot more than that to get a baby brother or sister.”

“Like what?” Millie inquires.”

“Like none of your business,” Tyler replies as he tends to Declan, scooping him of the ground and settling him into his car seat. “Besides, there won’t be any more brothers or sisters. It’s not possible.”

“Can we get a dog then?” Tanner asks

“We already have a dog,” his mother reminds him.

“Let’s get another one!” Millie enthuses. “A puppy!”

“I have enough mouths to feed and barely any sanity left.”  Esme says, and passes the baby to her husband, who arches a brow and stares at her pointedly over the dog comment. “Not you too!”

“It’s not a bad idea. We’ve got the room. Inside and outside.”

“Please don’t encourage them. They won’t stop talking about it now. They’re going to ask a million times a day about getting a puppy and I don’t think my mental well-being can take it.”

“We’ll talk about it,” he says, then kisses her and shit the SUV door.  

“Oh, you think so do you,” she grins, then runs her hands across his shoulders and down his chest; smoothing out the wrinkles in his simple white dress shirt., the first three buttons undone and no tie; paired with dark washed jeans that fit ‘just right’. Beard still full but neatly trimmed, the product in his hair giving it that unruly ‘bed head’ look. “You clean up nice.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself.” he chides, and then places a hand on her hip and leans into her, pressing a kiss to her ear. “You look beautiful,” he praises, as his hand slides up the middle of her back. The dress is simple and modest; emerald green and off the shoulder, flaring out at the waist and just skimming the bottom of her knees.  

She’s still self-conscious about her post-baby body; she’d on twenty-five pounds and had damaged to drop fifteen of them seemingly overnight after Addie was born. She hates the extra weight that clings to her hips and gathers at her waist; despises the stretch marks that mar her skin. Yet to him they just make her even more beautiful; the signs left behind that she’s given him children.  There’s no woman in the world that could ever hold a candle to her. It stretches far beyond physical appearance. It’s her strength and her tenacity and the loyalty that that she’s always shown towards him and their kids. And it’s the way she looks at him; as if he’s the most incredible man on the planet even though there’s times he’s shown he’s anything but.

A slight blush creeps into her cheeks. Even after six and a half years of marriage she’s still not used to his random compliments. Mark had all but destroyed every ounce of self-esteem she’d ever had, so Tyler had taken it upon himself to help rebuilt it every chance he got. Whether it’s when she’d dressed up with her done and make up on, or when she’s worn down from lack sleep and her hair is messy and she’s still in her pajamas with baby puke stains on them.

“I’m serious,” he says, as his hand slides down to the small of her back and his lips find hers; soft, slow, simple kiss. “You look incredible.”

She smiles. A genuine, glowing smile that lights up her entire face and makes her eyes sparkle and dance. And with her hands on his chest, she stands on her tip toes once again and places a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then lays her hand against the side of his face and runs the end of pad of her thumb over his lips, her eyes never leaving his.

It’s the sincerest ‘thank you’ he’s ever received.

****

Nik and Kyle have a room at Sovreign Resort Hotel, and they’ve arranged to meet on the outdoor patio belonging to the in-house restaurant. It’s better for the kids; no cooping them up in a crowded, busy room and expecting them to sit still and keep quiet. Being outside gives them a chance to breathe; away from the hustle and bustle and all the judgmental stares and comments if they dare step out of line.  There are gardens and fishponds to investigate when they get bored or agitated and need some time to decompress, and room for a high chair for Declan and Addie’s stroller, giving her a comfortable and safe place to retreat to while the others eat and converse.

“Now I know why we don’t go out more often,” Esme comments, as she notices the curious looks and hears the comments tossed their way. A fairly young couple with so many kids, all close together in age.  Most find it cute; drawn to the twins in their complimenting outfits and Millie in her princess dress, but there’s the bitchy people as well. The ‘children should be seen and not heard’ crowd that find it ridiculous –and maybe even disgusting- that people are willingly having such large families in this day and age. “People are staring at us,” she frets. “And whispering.”

Tyler moves Declan from one hip to the other, than lays a hand on the back of her neck and gives it a comforting squeeze. “Want me to tell them that I have weak pull out game? Lighten the mood?”

“I’d laugh but I wouldn’t but it past you do actually do something like that.  Seriously, what is everyone’s issue?”

“Who gives a shit.  Just ignore it. Maybe it bothers them because it’s obvious by all the kids that we’ve had more sex in five years than they’ve had in fifty.”

Normally it would aggravate him, that kind of attention and all the talk. But he’d taken half a dozen Ativan before getting out of the car and the effects are already starting to take hold.  He’s relaxed. The calmest he’s been in the past four days. Although he’s pretty sure having to be in Nik’s presence and enduring her version of ‘small talk’ will change that.

Nik and Kyle have already arrived; sitting side by side at a large table near the edge of the patio, leaning into one another, foreheads nearly touching as they talk, their hands joined on top of the table.

“I’m going to be sick,” Esme mutters. “Ughhhh. The way she’s looking at him. He’s way too good for her. Let’s just leave. I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. If we just sneak out now...”

Kyle has spotted them and is already on his feet and making his way towards them; the kids so focused on their surroundings that they’re completely unsuspecting until he’s within five feet, noisily clearing his throat to grab their attention.

“Uncle Kyle!” Millie cries, and is the first to break away, the soles of those old sandals flapping against the concreate patio as she rushes to where he’s already crouched down, arms outstretched, gathering her into them and pulling her tight against him.    

The twins follow suit; shrieking his name as they run towards him, finding themselves enveloped by his strong arms and gathered into a bear hug along with their sister.  Tears sparkling in Kyle’s eyes as he showers them with kisses and tousles their hair and listens to their excited ramblings; all three talking at the same time, filling him in on all the excitement and adventures they’ve experienced in the past six months.   And Tyler notices that Nik doesn’t budge from the table, sipping at a glass of wine and never acknowledging the scene playing out in front of her.

“Wish me luck,” Esme sighs, and he gives a reassuring before taken Declan from him, carrying him on her hip and pushing the baby in the stroller as she herds the other three towards the table to get them settled.  

He watches as the two women exchange tight lipped smiles; Esme’s one of lingering bitterness and anger, Nik’s filled with a hint of remorse and maybe even regret.   And how his wife holds it together despite wanting to completely unleash on her old friend; instead patiently getting the kids settled and Declan strapped into a highchair. He knows it’s difficult for her; his ‘history’ with Nik still the elephant that lingers in the room, the other issues that she’s caused over the past six and a half years adding insult to injury.

“Good to see you, man,” Kyle gives him an awkward one-armed hug and then claps him on the shoulder. “What the has she been feeding you? You’re a fucking tank.”

“Just a lot of hours in the gym. Gotta keep myself busy somehow. Things are good with you?”  

Their relationship has been strained; not just because of the thousands of miles between them and Kyle holding him responsible for yet again ‘stealing’ his sister, but the ongoing hostility with Nik.  The last time they’d talked, Tyler hadn’t been kind; letting her know to stay the hell away from him, to never contact him again. He’d been harsh. He’s the first one to admit that.  But it had worked. At least until now.

“Things are good,” Kyle says, and then glances over his shoulder at Nik, a smile curving his lips. “Things are really good. What about here? You guys are doing alright? The kids seem happier.”

“We’re all happier. It was the right thing to do. Coming back here.”

“She’s struggling though,” Kyle nods in the direction of his sister. “Don’t even try and tell me she’s not.”

“She’d be struggling a lot less if you have just listened and kept Nik away. It wasn’t enough you’re marrying her considering everything in the past? You had to make things worse by bringing her here?”

“We hadn’t heard from you guys yet. About the wedding.”

“And that means you come all the way here and fuck things up? You have a phone. You've got the internet. Send an email. Don’t just show up. We’re still trying to get past all of this. Nik and her shit, the job.”

"It was her idea. Nik’s. To come here and try and make things. Patch things up. I told her that I didn’t know if either you or Esme were ready for that that yet, but....”

He frowns. “It was her idea?”

Kyle nods. “She wanted to make amends. In person.”

“She told you that? That that’s why we wanted to come here?”

You poor delusional bastard, Tyler thinks. Kyle’s being played and manipulated in the say way she’d messed with him.  Nik always has an ulterior motive. And Kyle is either blind to it, doesn’t give a shit, or genuinely doesn’t realize what she’s capable of.  

He decides it’s the latter.

“We want you guys at the wedding,” Kyle says. “I mean, if it wasn’t for you and Esme, we never would have met.”

He feels as if he should apologize in advance.  Because six months from now, Kyle’s going to realize just what kind of shit show he’s gotten himself into. “

“And we want the kids there,” Kyle continues. “Millie could be the flower girl, the twins could be junior ushers, Declan could carry the ring up. We want it to be a family affair.

The last thing Tyler wants it to be stuck anywhere with Esme’s family. He doesn’t give a shit about their feelings towards him. If they want to spend the rest of their lives hating him and viewing him as the enemy, so be it. But the way they’ve treated her.... his wife...is unacceptable. And the worst place to air those grievances is at the wedding of the only member of that clan he can actually stand.

“Won’t be the same without all of you,” Kyle says. “I mean, we’re family.”

Tyler wouldn’t go that far. You usually don’t become family with someone you used to casually fuck,

“This is a big deal for her,” his brother in law continues. “Wanting to come here. Wanting to make things right.”

“And you really think that’s why she wanted to come here?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She hasn’t given me a reason not to believe her. Why?”  his eyes narrow. “You know something I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you know Nik as well as you think you do,” Tyler says, then gives him a sympathetic pat on shoulder before heading for the table.

****

“You’re here to take daddy away, aren’t you.” Millie voice is accusatory and full of venom; eyes narrowed as she regards Nik from across the table.  

Dinner is long finished; all dirty dishes and cutlery cleared away in favor of tea and coffee for the adults and ice cream for the kids. His daughter has been glued to his side all night, Nik bringing out the clingy and protective side of her. Nearly causing a fight with Tanner when he initially wouldn’t give up the seat to Tyler’s right. Then climbing up into his lap as soon as the meal was finished; sitting sideways on his thighs, an arm curled tightly around his neck.

Esme shifts uncomfortably beside him, then noisily clears her throat and reaches for a glass of ice water.  He takes her hand, squeezing it tightly before placing their joined hands on her thigh.  

“No one is taking anyone away,” he assures his daughter.

“That's what you said last time,” Millie reminds him. “And then you were gone forever.”

“Well this time is different.  I’m not going anywhere. Uncle Kyle just came to see you guys. So she tagged along. Nothing more than that.”

“She is your Aunt,” Kyle speaks up. “It’s okay if you guys call her that even if certain people don’t want to acknowledge it or accept it.”

Esme clears her throat once more, hand tightening around Tyler’s.

Millie isn’t convinced. “If I wake up tomorrow and my daddy's gone, I’m going to be really pissed!”

“Okay, calm down,” Tyler presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still going to be here when you wake up tomorrow. So just relax, okay? Take it easy.”

Millie turns to face him, then kneels on his laps as she leans in close and whispers. “I don’t trust her, daddy.”

“It’s a long way to come,” Esme pipes up. “Just because you missed the kids. Web cam chats do exist, you know.”

“It’s not the same,” Kyle says. “And things are slow right now for Nik and I had some vacation time owe to me, so...well...here we are.”

“Yeah,” Esme gives a tense smile. “Here you guys are.”

Tyler moves Mille over to his other thigh, then let’s go his wife’s hand in favor of laying his arm across the back of her chair, thumb repeatedly brushing against her shoulder.

“We thought it was time to smooth things out,” Kyle explains. “Before the wedding. So things aren’t tense that day like they are now. I mean, it’s been six months. Time to let it go, don’t you think.”

“I think you’re underestimating what the nearly six years before were like,” his sister calmly responds. “Or am I just supposed to pretend they never happened?  That she...sorry.... you...” she looks over at Nik. “...never pulled all the bullshit you did?”

“Mommy.” Tanner looks up from his ice cream. “That’s a bad word. Daddy said no bad words tonight.”

“You’re right,” she says, and then gives her son a smile and wraps an arm around him, drawing him tight against her. “Bad mommy,” she scolds herself, and then runs her fingers through his hair and places a kiss to his cheek.

“No one is saying that you have to forget about all of that or pretend it never happened.” Kyle informs her. “But wouldn’t you rather iron things out so you’re carrying around so much animosity?”

“Oh, that’s rich, K. Maybe you should be addressing your future wife’s animosity. And how she was so pissed at Tyler and I that she was willing to leave us both on a bridge in Dhaka to die.”

“Okay...no one needs to hear about this,” Tyler says, and rubs her shoulder. “Especially little ears.”

“I’ve already apologized for that,” Nik finally speaks. “Countless times. But things didn’t exactly happen the way you think they did.”

Esme snorts. “Spare me, Nik. Yaz told me all I needed to know. So don’t waste your breath lying to me. Dhaka was a total crap show and you just went ahead and made it even worse.”

“Alright, settle down,” Tyler implores, and then leans sideways to press a kiss to her temple, lips settling against her ear. “The kids do not need to hear this. Any of this. Okay? Can you stop? For me? Please?”

She reluctantly nods.

“It was Nik’s idea to come here,” Kyle says. “She wanted to patch things up. With both of you. So we could be part of the kids’ lives. They deserve to have family. Are you going to let your ego get in the way of what’s best for them?”

“Whoa...whoa...” Tyler comes to his wife’s defense. “...that’s way out of line, mate. Don't use her kids against her. Don’t ever accuse of not doing what’s for her kids. Our kids. Don’t stoop that low or you are I are going to have problems.”

“I’m just saying that...”

“I know what you’re saying. But find another way to say. Because I won’t let you disrespect the mother of my children like that.”

Nik gives a dramatic sigh. “Obviously the two of you are still holding onto a lot of bitterness and anger and this was a total waste of our time.”

“We’re holding onto a lot of bitterness and anger?” Esme retorts, then laughs. “Says the woman who couldn’t handle that her with friend with benefits met someone and decided to move on with his life. The same woman who was so mad about it that she spent six years trying to get my husband to cheat on me? Or are you going to pretend none of that ever happened?”

“And I’ve apologized for that, Esme. But you’re just so childish and petty that you can't let it go.”

‘Well I’m sorry, Nik. Maybe I’m not comfortable with my husband’s old side piece becoming my sister in law.”

“There’s kids here,” Tyler reminds them both. “They don’t need to hear this. Either settle down or just drop it.”

Esme glares at him. “And suddenly you’re on her side?”

“I’m on your side. I’m always on your side. But I’m also on the side of my kids not having to hear this stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve heard a lot worse,” Nik snidely remarks. “With you as their father.”

Esme’s eyes narrow. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what he’s like. The mouth on him. I’m just saying that I’m sure the kids have heard a lot worse than what we’re talking about.”

“How about you just leave my kids out of this,” Esme suggests. “Or is that the real issue? That they’re my kids...with him...and not yours.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle moans. “Not this again.”

“That’s what really pissed off six and a half years ago, wasn’t it, Nik. The fact that you wanted more than just the dick and he wouldn’t give it to you. It just pissed you off when he met me and all of sudden he was getting married, having kids, enjoying a normal life. That’s what really bugged you. What still bugs you.”

“Can we not talk about that?” Tyler asks. “Do you really think the kids need to know this kind of shit?”

Esme ignores him. “Why don’t you tell Kyle the real reason you’re here, Nik. And don’t lie and say it was to repair things between us. Tell the truth for once. Tell him you’re here to screw things up all over again.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about this now,” Nik says. “This was supposed to be about coming together and sitting down and ironing things out. To patch things up and see the kids and...”

“I think we should call it a night,” Tyler suggests. “It’s getting late and the kids are tired and have school tomorrow.”

“No,” Esme responds. “We’re not leaving. She’s going to come clear to my brother about what she’s really here for. How she used our kids as an excuse to come here. Tell him, Nik. Tell him exactly what you came all this way for.”

“Esme,” Tyler warns. “...not here...please.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Kyle. It isn’t for my husband’s dick. For once. It’s all business, isn’t it, Nik. It’s all about the job. And you trying to manipulate Tyler into helping you.”

“Would you stop,” Tyler tightly squeezes her shoulder. “Enough. Stop Not here. Not now. And not in front of the kids.”

“Nik wants to hire Ovi to be a mercenary,” Esme announces. “Ovi. Of all goddamn people.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Tyler orders. “If you two wants to hash it out or kick the crap out of each other, go do it somewhere else. Just not in front of my kids.”

“You’d think she’d have more comment sense than that because of everything Ovi went through in Dhaka,” Esme continues. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised considering we wanted us to leave him in the street like a piece of trash. She probably wanted Tyler to leave me there too. Because I was the obstacle in the way or getting what she really wanted.”

“Is this true?”  Kyle address Nik. “That’s why you really wanted to come here? To hire Ovi?”

“Oh, not just that,” Esme informs him. “She wants Tyler’s help. She wants him to train Ovi before she sends him off to be killed. She probably wants more than that. She always has.”

“Okay, we’re going.” Tyler tightens his hold on Millie and stands up. “Enough. I’ve had enough. I said not to do this, and you did it anyway. Let’s go.”

“I want to know if any of this is true,” Kyle says. “If that’s the real reason we ended up here. Is it?” he looks back at Nik. “IT had nothing do with fixing things, did it. It was all bullshit. Just to get something you want.”

“That’s Nik’s M.O,” Esme smirks. “That’s all she ever cares about. Getting what she wants. And trying to destroy anyone that stands in her way.”

“Why would you do this?” Nik hisses. “Stoop this low?”

“Now you know how it feels,” Esme give a victorious smile as she stands up. “Doesn’t feel good, does it? Having some bitch trying to fuck your life up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tyler snarls. “Let’s just go. Enough. You’ve said enough.”

“Oh, I have more tons more I could say.”

“Well another time, another place. We’re leaving. Now.”  His tone is demanding. Authoritative. But his face remains calm as he gathers up all the kids; Declan on one hip, Millie on the other. “Let’s go guys,” he says to the twins. “Home time.”

“Thank God,” Tanner huffs. “Adult stuff is so boring.”

Kyle hurries after them as they leave, catching Tyler by the arm before he can get out the side entrance of the patio. “I am so fucking sorry. I had no idea what she was up to,” he says, as Esme and the twins –with TJ pushing the baby stroller- continue the walk to the car.  “She told me that she wanted to come here and fix things. And so I could see the kids. I had no clue she had an ulterior motive.”

“That’s one thing about Nik. She always has an ulterior motive. I’m sorry, too. That you had to find out that way. Esme should have just kept her mouth shut. For tonight at least. I tried, but...” Tyler shrugs. “...she doesn’t always listen to me.”

“She doesn’t listen to anyone,” Kyle gives a dry laugh. You guys going to be okay?”

“We’ll be fine. She’ll get home and go off on me for a bit and then she’ll calm down. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’m used to it after six and a half years. Good luck with Nik, though. You’re going to need it.”

Kyle frowns and runs a hand over the back of his head. “That bad, huh?”

“Mate, you have idea. If she boots you out and you need a place to crash, you know where to find us.”

“Yeah, don’t be surprised if you come out in the morning and find me drunk and passed out on the beach.”

Tyler smirks. “There’s been times I wished I was loaded and passed out on the beach, believe me. I am sorry. That your sister went off like that.  But you were going to find out sooner or later.”

“Better sooner if you ask me.” Kyle says. “Tell her I’m sorry. That you’re dragged back into this shit. Into that life. Esme deserves better than that.”

“Yeah,” Tyler agrees. “She does.”