#so since i set it in florida i spent days deciding on the right town

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

Of all the towns in Florida I could have based this story on, I picked the one whose High School posts to Facebook about every two days.

[concreteprints]

Okay so reader has been friends with Soda for a long time. One day she goes to the Curtis house and finds out about Sandy being a cheating bitch. Her and Steve spend the whole day comforting Soda. Over the weekend she makes up something about needing to go out of town. Reader goes to Florida and, in a crush fueled rage, beats the shit of Sandy's car Carrie Underwood style.

On her way home, let's say an hour and a half from Tulsa, she gets arrested for driving like Dallas and calls Darry to come get her. Darry comes but Ponyboy and Sodapop are in the truck with him. When they get home everything is embarrassing, they find out about the car, and you can decide if soda does anything.

Bust the Windows Out Your Car | Sodapop Curtis x F!Reader Word Count: 1806

Warnings: N/A?

Notes: I'm sorry I'm aware this is bad but this is not usually my thing and I could not proofread it for the life of me. I hope it isn't too bad?

You had been friends with Soda for a while now, since before he dropped out of school. You had hit it off instantly but at the time both of you wanted something purely platonic, so nothing happened and eventually he got a girlfriend. He was hot, funny, and could probably cheer a devil up if he tried hard enough. It wasn’t that you weren’t into him, you just weren’t looking for that. By the time your feelings had developed and you realized that you did, in fact, like Sodapop, he had already moved on.

It didn’t hurt you too much. You knew almost every girl he talked to was into him, everyone did. You were genuinely surprised that he was single when you two met.

Even though you were still in school and he was working a full-time job, you two still spent a lot of time together. Whenever you could you would just walk over to the Curtis’ and hang out. You always secretly hoped that Soda would be there when you went (and you were sure at least one of the guys in the gang could tell).

You had another bad day at school. One of those ones where everything that could go wrong, did. You were exhausted and all you wanted to do was cuddle up on the sofa next to him and watch some stupid movie that you had both seen at least a couple dozen times before.

Instead of seeing some boys roughhousing on the couch and nearly knocking over half of the things on the coffee table, you found Steve attempting to comfort an uncharacteristically sad Sodapop. Immediately you knew that something was wrong. Nothing could make Sodapop sad. He was like a golden retriever, even if something bad did happen to him he’d still be his cheerful, overexcited self. Almost like he didn’t understand what had happened or why it was supposed to be upsetting.

“Steve? What happened?” You set your bag down near the door and sat on the other side of Sodapop. He didn’t look like he was in the mood to explain, so Steve sounded like your best option if you wanted an actual answer.

Steve shook his head with a small sigh. It was strange seeing both of them so down, especially at once. It was almost like their emotions were connected. Sodapop was happy, so was Steve; Sodapop was angry, Steve was angrier; and apparently, if Sodapop was down about something, Steve acted almost as sad as if it had happened to him too.

He lowered his voice, perhaps attempting to say it without upsetting Sodapop too much more. “He just found out that Sandy cheated on him… real down about it right now.”

You couldn’t believe it. You were filled with rage at the same time you were almost empathetically as down as Soda was feeling. You couldn’t believe that someone – Sandy, no less – could have the nerve, the audacity, to cheat on someone like Sodapop. He was loyal, kind, and more than just attractive. He had the looks of a movie star and the charisma to go with it. He was the perfect man in your eyes.

Then again, perfect man or not, cheaters were cheaters. You just hated the fact that you had trusted Sandy, and that Sodapop had trusted her even more. You also hated the fact that, even though he had just found it, she had probably cheated on him dozens of times before now.

Of course you did your best to comfort Sodapop, you couldn’t just leave him like this, but it was hard when he was usually the one cheering up other people. You weren’t sure how to comfort someone who you had never seen this sad before. Who you had never really seen sad before at all.

“Hey Soda, I know it hurts now but it’ll get better. You know it will. You’ll go on and find other girls, but she’ll always be a cheater.” You say softly. You were still avoiding touching him though. You didn’t think it was the time, especially not now that he was newly single and you still had feelings for him. Even if he didn’t necessarily know about your feelings.

You and Steve spent nearly the entire afternoon (going late into the evening as well) attempting to comfort him. Trying nearly everything either of you could think of. You gave him some ice cream, though you didn’t think that really worked for most people; Steve put on his favorite movie; and you two spent the entire night talking and laughing. Yet he was still clearly upset.

Logically you knew that it would take him a while to get over it. He’d been with Sandy for a little over a year. You just hated feeling so helpless being able to do virtually nothing to cheer him up.

Once he fell asleep, you went home. It was nearly 12 now but you had no plans of sleeping. All you could think of was how to get Sandy back for breaking his heart. You spent the rest of the night coming up with a plan. Once morning came, you got in your car and drove a little too fast to be safe. You couldn’t think straight enough to worry about it at the moment. You hadn’t brought more than a change of clothes and some money you had stashed away from babysitting jobs.

You weren’t planning on staying for long. No, if you had any say in it you’d be gone as soon as you were finished. You just didn’t want to be unprepared.

The drive was long and tiring. You tried to distract yourself with music but it didn’t do much. All you could think about it was how angry you were at the moment. 

You felt your knuckles tighten against the leather steering wheel. One of the only things keeping you grounded as you drive. The angrier you got, the faster you went, but eventually you tired yourself out. Giving up and driving more slowly so that you wouldn’t accidentally drive yourself off of the road.

Despite how early you had left, it was still fairly late when you arrived. Running purely on rage, coffee, and not wanting to give up now, you quickly found her car. You were too exhausted to fully complete your plan. You slashed three of her tires, spilt the rest of your nearly scolding coffee on the white leather seats, and keying one side but writing no particular letters. By the time you were finished, you were coming down from that rage-fueled high. You drove yourself to an empty lot and fell asleep in your car. Driving back home now would not be a good idea.

The bright sun woke you up quickly. It was now nearly painfully hot in the car and the fact that you were only going on a few hours of sleep didn’t help you feel any better. You decided to keep on driving. If your parents hadn’t already called the cops, they sure would soon.

By the time you were nearly there, you couldn’t stand it anymore. The anxiety pounding in your head, the fact that you could barely see 10 feet in front of you in the dark, and the realization setting in that what you did was, in fact, very illegal. You weren’t like Dally, and girls didn’t go to jail. Especially not for stuff like vandalizing a car. You anxiously tapped your finger on the steering wheel as you drove. Barely realizing that you kept speeding up until you heard cop sirens from behind you.

At first you told yourself that they couldn’t be for you, but it was much too late for anyone else to be driving. You sighed and pulled over. The officer, noticing how delirious you seemed, decided to take you in.

He didn’t handcuff you and he didn’t even tell you that you were being arrested, but it was still embarrassing. Having to be driven to the police station in the back of a cop car like a common criminal.

Once you got there, he handed you the phone and told you to call someone to drive you home; he wasn’t going to let you drive like that but he didn’t want to see you spend the night in a cell either. You knew your parents would murder you if you called them late in the evening and told them that you needed to be picked up from the police station. So your best bet was calling the Curtis household and praying that Darry didn’t lecture you too awful.

You could immediately tell that Darrel was exhausted when he answered, his voice rough. “Hm? What is it?” He was always polite on the phone, even as tired as he was. He didn’t want to risk it being a social worker on the other end.

“I’m sorry for calling this late Dar but I need to… I need someone to pick me up from the station.” You kept your voice down as you spoke. Even though everyone of the cops obviously knew where you were, you were still ashamed to speak it aloud.

He groaned and you could tell that he was going to scold you later, but thankfully he agreed. Very unfortunately for you, the second they heard your name both Pony and Soda insisted that they come along. You awkwardly slid into the backseat and gave them a glare that told them not to say a word before laying your head down against the back of the seat and instantly falling asleep.

When you woke up you were laying on the couch, a warm blanket wrapped around you. Sodapop was sitting on the end of the couch near your feet. Apparently extremely anxious for you to wake up. It wasn’t like you had nearly died or anything. He just wanted to know why and how the hell you had managed to be brought to a police station.

He started talking as soon as he noticed that you were awake. “What is it? What happened? Y/N why were you out that late?!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, it just happened.

You had to come clean eventually. If you didn’t, you knew he would just find out from someone else. “Well I… I went to Sandy’s house and… taught her a lesson.” 

Sodapop couldn’t quite believe it. You had been missing for a little over two full days and it turns out that it was all because you wanted to “teach his ex a lesson.”

“Are you kidding me Y/N?! Yeah she cheated but that doesn’t mean you should’ve done that! Sandy doesn’t deserve that shit!” He shouted before standing up and walking into his room, slamming the door behind him.

[tryst-art-archive]

October 2010: "Until I Sleep"

Los Angeles Police Department, Officer Dawe: Interview with “Dani California”

            I went gray in elementary school. At first I just left it that way, but when dealing with the other kids got too hard, I started dying it. By then the damage was done, though, so it didn’t really help all that much. It wasn’t until Calez entered middle school with us that I started just wearing it gray again. He wasn’t called Calez then – I mean, that’s a nickname I gave him, not his real name – and he wasn’t as much of a scruffy musician either, and I guess if he had been he might have fit in better. He could have passed as a stoner that way. But back then, he hadn’t grown into his lankiness so when he walked it was like a daddy longlegs on ice. He did have the beginning of the goatee then, but his hair was too tidy for it. Turns out he needed the shaggy brown mop to complete the look.

            Anyway, Calez has been into the flute for pretty much his whole life, so he was already a crazy talented flutist when he came, and he joined the school’s concert band right off and put everyone else to shame. They were struggling over sixteenth notes while his fingers choreographed strings of thirty-second notes. He’d add mordents to the compositions and play in harmony to the rest of the flutes when he got bored. So he inhabited this bizarre place in the school’s social spectrum. On the one hand he was this awkward music nerd with no appeal to the ladies, but on the other he was too talented to not leave you staring slack-jawed. For the first few days, the other kids jeered at him, and that landed him in with me and the rest of the misfits, but then the band held practice. After they heard him play, people had respect for him, and since he’d already fallen in with the losers, that meant we gained some points by association. And me? I was already becoming his best friend, y’know? So I stopped dying my hair, and in high school I decided to kick it up a notch, dye my tips crazy colors. Eventually I settled on the pink, but I went through the whole rainbow, mixed it up, just whatever I felt like. That’s when I started dressing in neon colors and accessorizing, too.

            Well, anyway, the two of us were pretty much inseparable before long, so after we spent high school learning trivia through a haze of smoke – I’ll let you guess what kind – we figured we’d just go to the same college. I mean, neither of us were very into the idea of college, so I just picked a random state school and went with it. Calez tried in some other places, though. He actually got into Berkeley, but we were in Florida then, and Massachusetts was too far away, he said. So he was going to state school with me, in the end. We never wound up going, though.

            Y’see, we had both packed all our stuff up, just had a duffel bag to carry us through the week before we moved, y’know? So one of those nights in the middle, we’re bored out of our minds. Our college was starting later than all our friends’, so it was just the two of us, and that was alright of itself, but all our things were packed away and that left standing around in the Floridian sun. I don’t know if you’ve ever spent a summer in the swamp that is Floridian heat, but it is not an atmosphere you want to walk through while having skin. So that pretty much left us with malls and waiting until night took the edge off a little.

            We headed into town sometime in the afternoon; Calez had his flute, something he’d busted his savings on, and I had a pair of drumsticks and a tambourine ‘cause I’d taken up percussion so that the two of us could jam. I’ve got a decent sense of rhythm, and Calez pretty much taught me anything else I might need to know, so we’d go down to Miami, lay out Calez’s flute case, and just jam for a few hours at a time. When we got to the city on that particular day, though, it was sweltering so we set ourselves up in an air conditioned shopping center, sometimes jamming, sometimes dodging security, and sometimes just window shopping. Sometime after the sun had set, a group of security guards finally caught up with us and kicked us out for playing in the mall without permission. It was still too hot to be out, really, but we figured it would cool down soon so we wandered into the party district.

            A couple weeks before this, a new nightclub had opened up down there. It was some kind of gay bar, and it was drawing customers like sugar draws ants. No one really seemed to be sure why since it wasn’t offering anything particularly different than any of the other gay bars in the area, but rumor had it that the place had male dancers just being sexy for the crowds and that one of them was particularly stunning. It didn’t really matter to us why the place was overflowing with people, though. Me and Calez were out to jam and make a little pocket change that night, so we headed down to the new club and parked ourselves close enough to get the attention of the people trying to get into it but not so close that its local pounding would drown us – well, mostly Calez – out.

            We actually made a decent sum that night. The line into the club was long enough and boring enough for people to notice us and anyone who’d come in a group would send one of their party over to give us what they could spare. Since we’d gotten out there so early in the evening, the crowd just engorged the longer we stayed out there, so we were there for a pretty long time. Long enough for some of the dancers to come out and take a break.

            We weren’t even paying attention, really, so we didn’t see them come over. Calez was just immersed in his playing, rocking with it, feeling it with his whole body, completely gone in the melody, and I had the tambourine out then so I was spinning and dancing and whooping, keeping beat and throwing in little rhythmic flairs. We just had a party of two going on right then; we were in our element. And then, bam! There’s these four slim gay guys around us, and they’re dancing with me, and one of them is singing nonsense lyrics, and another one’s invoking the spirit of Stomp, and then there’s this one just leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette, watching, and when I saw him, I stopped breathing.

            I mean, he was Michael. Hair like terracotta and skin like sand and – the ridiculous part - eyes the color of blue highlighters. No joke. There he was, a tangible waif of a man in too-tight pants with a light sweater as if he weren’t in Florida, dragging on his cigarette so that the ember illuminated his face and the smoke curled through that red-brown hair falling into his face, hiding the ice of his languid stare. Michael. He just stood there with one arm folded over his chest, one foot against the wall, watching so that you knew he was watching without ever actually catching him at it.

            Well the dancing guys noticed what I was staring at – I mean, I’d just stopped mid-spin, mid-laugh – and they laughed at me and said, “Don’t worry about the old sourpuss! Come on, come on, get dancing!” So I did. I danced with them and laughed with them for their whole break – you’d think they’d be tired of dancing, but no - and I kept watch on “the old sourpuss” the whole time.

            Well, they had to get back to work, so they left us some money and asked us to come back another night. I told them we would, for sure. Michael tapped his cigarette out against the wall and led the rest of the dancers inside. Calez was still playing then; he actually more or less missed this whole episode. When it got late enough that we had to get back home, I had to explain what had happened to him. He agreed to come back to that spot partially for the money but mostly because he wondered why I was so eager about it. I mean, I explained to him what Michael looked like, but Calez just laughed and said, “I doubt that dancer’s prettier than you.”

            Well, so we came back the next night, and the dancers joined us again, and Michael watched again. So I elbowed Calez in the side when they came, and he opens his eyes and looks where I’m pointing him, at Michael. Calez’s flute gives this stutter, the wind getting knocked out of him, and I don’t know how, but Calez managed to recover in a beat, and he was right back to the flow of his melody like nothing happened. Michael noticed it, I think. He glanced up at Calez and gave this little nod.

            Well, the dancers left us money and followed Michael back in a little after that, and I said to Calez, “Well?”

             Now, Calez, he’s bi, so I was expecting him to have tingles in his stomach as much as I did. Well, Calez just watched the door to the club for a while, and finally he says, “Well. He’s striking.”

            I said, “Striking? Is that it?”

            Calez shrugged. “I can’t get excited about someone I don’t know.” Then he grinned and elbowed me in the side. “You’re prettier anyway,” he said.

            So I punched him in the arm for being stupid, and we jammed for a little longer before heading back home.

            We kept going down to that corner to jam at nights for pretty much the whole week before we were supposed to move in. It was addicting, in a way. There was one night where my mom decided she and I needed to spend an evening together “like a family” – as if we counted as one after dad left – before I headed off to college, so I couldn’t go to the club to jam. Calez went without me, mostly because I told him to, though, and he said that the dancers had shown up again and told him they were disappointed that I wasn’t there. I had spent the whole night just shaking, I wanted to be down there so badly. I asked Calez, “What about the blue-eyed one?”

            “He didn’t say anything.” I must have looked upset because he added, “He never does, Dani. He probably noticed you were missing, though. How could he not?”

            We were pretty much obligated to spend the night before we left with our parents, and I was planning on stopping in to see Calez’s folks then too since they’re as much mine as they are his. We made it a point to be at the club the night before that.

            We set up shop and started jamming, and a handful of hours later the dancers came out for their break, and Calez had this lively melody going on, and I had so much energy that night. We were glowing with the music, and the dancers noticed. They picked up on the energy, and they danced with me like they never had before. We were all just pure energy, writhing in between the waves of heat coming up off the sidewalk.

            While we were dancing, one of them asked, “Is this a special occasion?”

            I said, “It’s the last time we can be here!” They pretty much all gave some version of “No!” so I told them, “We’re supposed to move soon.”

            Well, Michael was leaning against the wall as usual when I said this, but he was also watching like usual, and he heard. He tamped out his cigarette on the wall; it was only half-finished. He stood up straight, stretched, and walked into our dancing circle, evolving from an aloof observer into a party creature not only wrapped up in the music but being pulled by it. It was as if every limb and joint were connected to the notes flying out of Calez’s flute; he moved to the music like it was a way of life, not just the act of dancing, and he let it pull him wherever it would.

            Once he was in the circle, our collective energy doubled, and we were a frenzy. The line outside the club started cheering, and some of them were clapping, and some of them were dancing, and the security guard couldn’t help but tap his foot, and it was beautiful. There was a transcendence in it.

            We probably could have kept up at that the whole night, into the morning, through the day; hell, we could have kept that up for the rest of our lives, if we had a chance. Calez cut us off, though. He wound the song down and stopped. All of us except Michael were pretty much caught mid-stride. Michael followed it down, though. He collapsed with it, subsiding.

            I turned to Calez, and I said, “What the hell, man?”

            He said, “There’s a guy in a business suit over by the club. He looks kind of pissed.”

            The dancers swore. One of them said, “Oh shit, break’s over.” They all hugged us and said they’d miss us and ran back over to the club, apologizing to the guy in the suit. All of them except for Michael. He was still standing with us.

            This was the first time I’d seen him up close, really, and I was hit by his overwhelming physicality. His simple physical presence in a space just obliterates anything else. He’s there, and that’s the only thought your mind can really hold. He’s there, and he’s real, and if you touched him, he’d be a firm, solid body under your hand. But you don’t dare to touch him because it would be too much. You’d be overloaded. Because he’s got the shoulders of Adonis, he’s “Venus as a Boy,” he’s an anchoring point in your space that leaves you crossing your legs and whimpering. And then, oh, and then he flashes you one of his cocky, winning smiles, and you know you should hate that confidence, hate the assured way he looks at people, but you can’t, and you melt. You’re not a person; you’re just a pile of jelly, wiggling giblets, and what is breathing again?

            Somewhere in there, your ears stop burning, and you remember that you have a pulse. You’ve got tunnel vision, but the helium in your skull is seeping away, and you realize he just said something to you. What he said is “Hi. I’m Michael. You guys are pretty good.”

            I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. Part of my brain knew I needed to be responding, but it couldn’t scrabble any language together.

            Calez said, “Thanks, man,” and it sounded normal if you didn’t know Calez, but I do, and I could hear a little breathlessness there.

            Michael flashed us a grin. He looked at us from the corner of his eye, looked at the guy in the business suit who was still standing outside the club, glaring at Michael now and tapping his watch, and then Michael swung his body around to us, looked us in our faces and said, “You wouldn’t happen to be off to college, would you?”

            I blinked. There was air in my lungs again. “Yeah,” I said. “We’re supposed to hit up state school. How’d you know?”

            He shrugged. “I been around. You’ve got that look.”

            Calez said, “You’ve been around? You can’t be much older than us. Three, maybe four years?”

            Michael laughed. “You’re sharp. What’s your name?”

            Calez gave him his real name – which I sure as hell ain’t telling you – and then asked him to call him Calez.

            “Calez?” Michael said.

            “It’s what Dani calls me.”

            Michael nodded to me. “I take it you’re Dani?”

            “Yeah. It’s a nickname, too, though. I don’t suppose Michael’s your real name?”

            “It isn’t.” He laughed. “It’s easier to not be found when no one knows your birth name.”

            “Why wouldn’t you want to be found?” Calez asked.

            Michael rubbed the back of his neck, furrowing his brows just a little, and I nearly died on the spot. “Aaaah. Well you know how society is. They find you, they make you live by their rules. You gotta get a job, or you can put that off with college, but either way you gotta get a job, and they mean a respectable job.” He laughed. “Thing is, if you stay in one place too long, even unrespectable jobs start making demands.” He glanced back at the man in the suit, who was fuming. “What say we go for a walk, lady and gentleman?”

            I tripped over myself agreeing while Calez said, “What about your job?”

            Michael just shrugged, beaming. “What job?”

            We gathered up our earnings, and Calez put his flute away. Michael hustled us away from that street, ignoring the shouts of the man in the business suit, and walked us down toward the water, making idle chat along the way. Mostly, he inquired about our lives, drawing out every fact about us that there was to know while deflecting almost every question we asked about him. Where was he from? Some Podunk town up north; nothing worth mentioning. Where did he live in Florida? Everywhere. How long had he been in Florida? Not as long as he normally stayed, but too long for his tastes. Where had he been before? Wherever his feet took him; wherever he could hitch a ride; anywhere with a clean bathroom and a free shower and whatever luxuries he could steal.

            “Steal?” Calez said.

            Michael shrugged. “It happens. So riddle me this, friends: why are you heading off to college? What do you aspire to that requires thousands of dollars’ worth of education?”

            Calez glanced at me, then raised his flute. “I have everything I need.”

            I just shrugged. “I dunno that we’re aspiring to anything in particular.”

            “Hmm. That sounds like a familiar story. Let me tell it to you.” He sat us down on pier where we could see the moon ripple in the ocean and stood with his back to it, so that it outlined him in white. “Once,” he said, “there was a scrawny little fag trying to eke out a life in the frozen northern hills. He wasn’t very good at it. He went through elementary and middle and high school struggling to find a way to live. He tried being straight, he tried being studious, he tried being hard-working. He couldn’t be straight because have you ever looked at a man’s hips? He couldn’t be studious because why put effort into something you don’t care about? And he couldn’t be hard-working because getting minimum wage to flip burgers just didn’t fill the gap in his life. Well, the people around him, they said he should go to college, get an education, become something based off that, so he looked into it. Of all the things in the world, he loved music and dance the most, so he sought out those paths, tried himself a university, tried to get the education and make the career. It didn’t click for him, though. He learned about the technicalities of music, but that wasn’t what he meant when he said he loved music. He learned every variety of dance they could teach him, but that wasn’t what he meant when he said he loved dance. When they gave him a project, he did what came natural, he let the love show, and they failed him. They failed him right out of their university, in fact. Well, he wasn’t such a little gay guy anymore. He’d grown into himself. He knew who he was, and who he was was too big for the frozen hills, that was for sure. So he left. He picked a direction and started walking, and when walking got too tiring, he started dancing, and he danced his way over the country.”

            He paused, looking us over. “Now,” he said, “I’m going to say it plainly to you because I’ve been watching this past week, and you two love music and you love dance, and you love it the way I do. The real way. So I’ll be plain with you. I’ve been wandering across this country for a few years now, and it’s a mixed bag of good and bad, but there’s something in the homelessness that lets you dance like you’ve never danced in your life. You’re unfettered, and there’s nothing but you and the music. All the same, it gets lonely when you’re crossing the interstate at three in the morning or squirreling yourself away under some bushes and hoping the next motel you see has an unlocked window. Had someone following me around for a while, but he tied me down to him, and I couldn’t dance the way I want to. He didn’t understand the music, so how could he be anything but cement boots for me? But you two. You two understand, I think. I don’t mean to be bold, but I intend to get out of this sticky city ASAP, and I wouldn’t mind some musical accompaniment, so let me ask you this: Do you want to live the life prescribed to you by society, or would you like to live the life given to you by music?”

            He laid a finger under each of our chins and looked us each in the eye in turn. Then he laughed and pulled away from us. “It’s a crazy thing to ask, but sometimes life is better crazy. I’ll come to this dock round midnight tomorrow night to say a fond ‘Fuck you!’ to good old Miami. If you’d care to break the mold, maybe you should be here. That’s all I’m saying.”

            He ruffled our hair and passed between us, lighting up a cigarette and swaggering away, disappearing into an alleyway. I noticed that he was wearing the same pants he had been when we first saw him. There was a hole in the sole of one of his shoes.

            Calez and I stared at each other. We said we’d think on it; we’d meet up elsewhere earlier to compare notes. I think, though, we already knew what our decision was. I wanted to go, even though it was crazy, or maybe because it was crazy, or maybe because I knew that if I didn’t go, Michael would disappear forever for me, and I couldn’t stand that thought. It closed my throat, thinking about it. And Calez? His face said he’d follow me. Because why would he go to a college when the only reason he was going there was to keep hanging out with me? That’d be pretty ridiculous.

            Still, it was a monumental decision, so we said we’d go home and think on it. So we laid awake all night – or I did – thinking on it. I couldn’t get the feeling of Michael’s physical existence out of my belly.

Well, when we got to the dock the following midnight, there was Michael silhouetted against the moon again. He was still wearing the same clothes, but the way he stood in them, he might as well have been wearing a fine tuxedo hand-woven from pure silk. He could make a trash bag look good, though.

            He saw us coming up, and the moon caught his teeth. He pierced us with those electric blue eyes and said, “To a new friendship.” He raised his arms up to Miami and gave it the double bird.

            I guess our families thought something had happened to us since neither of us had thought to leave a note. There was something of a police search, so we had to be pretty sneaky on our way out of Florida, but once we’d crossed into Georgia, it was easier going. After a few weeks when we figured the search for us would have calmed down some, Calez called his family and tried to explain it a little. They didn’t understand, but what was he going to do about that? They were just going to have to.

            By the time we’d crossed into Alabama, we’d already gotten used to each other. Calez and I could practically read each other’s minds in the first place, but it wasn’t long before Michael was in on it. It was as if we’d never been without him. He was just another one of our limbs. We were all each other’s limbs. We still are.

            In Tennessee, Michael asked why I didn’t call my mom. I said, “I don’t need that anchor.” He just nodded.

            So for the past few years we’ve just been wandering the country, jamming and dancing. Sometimes we take a job if we get stuck too far north or south in the wrong season, just so we can live a little easier. Not freeze to death. The usual. Most of the rest of the time, we gather up what we can, make some pocket change, try to look anything but homeless, and dance across the country.  We light up every state we cross. When Michael steps into a state, it gets butterflies, and Calez makes his flute sing so the butterflies dance and whirl and live, and then I flirt with all the butterflies and ask them if they’ll be me and Michael’s concubines, and then Michael laughs, and he kisses me and Calez on our open, laughing mouths, and the whole world is bubbling syrup and heat and music, and when we dance on out the other side of that state, all the boys and girls wake up in their beds, wondering at the dream and the heat between their legs and the music in their ears, and maybe tonight, maybe tonight, they’ll live. In spite of the rules. They’ll live.

            …So we aren’t vagrants, officer. We’re just musicians who dance across the country.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

What drove this country crazy after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on 9/11? Was it how vulnerable we had been shown to be, that a group of 19 men armed with nothing more than box-cutters could bring the entire country to a halt? Was it that the attack was aimed primarily against innocent civilians, with nearly 3,000 killed at the Twin Towers alone? Was it that with the 19 hijackers dead in the suicidal attacks, we didn't seem to have anyone to retaliate against?  Was it that we had no grasp whatsoever on understanding why our country, the freest and most democratic ever, was hated so much that they would attack us?

I remember how disconnected things felt for days, even weeks, after the attacks. Travelers outside the country didn't have a way to get home because flights had been canceled. People stranded in cities they were visiting within the country couldn't find cars to rent, there were so many trying to get home. Everyone seemed to feel a need to gather with families and friends and hunker down, as if another attack could come at any moment.

The country's leadership was frozen, stunned. Remember the photos of George W. Bush as an aide leaned over his shoulder and whispered the news into his ear? He was the president of the United States, and he looked scared to death. In fact, he was rushed from the school he was visiting in Florida to Air Force One, and his plane took off on what amounted to a flight to nowhere as his administration tried to pull itself together and decide how they would respond. It wasn't until hours later that Air Force One landed at Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana and Bush hurriedly addressed the press in a windowless conference room, vowing to "hunt down and punish those responsible for these cowardly acts." Three days would pass before the president was flown to New York to appear atop the rubble of the World Trade Center at what became known as Ground Zero to take a bullhorn and make the pledge that would launch the country on a trajectory that has yet to change: "I can hear you!" he shouted to the workers at the site, "The rest of the world hears you! And the people — and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!"

A collective madness ensued. A great scrambling began to protect us against … well, against what? Box-cutters first and foremost, it seemed, as a new regime of inspections began at airports everywhere. The initial panic over the hijacked flights would lead to the establishment of the Transportation Security Administration and the Department of Homeland Security, a kind of domestic department of defense which proceeded to put us on what amounted to a wartime footing within our own country that persists even today. How many times have you had to throw a set of fingernail clippers into a bin at airport security because a TSA agent was defending us from terrorism? How about removing your shoes because a lone lunatic made an unsuccessful attempt to blow up an airplane with a "shoe bomb"?

The entire paranoid regimen under which we still live 20 years later grew out of a supposed "war on terror" begun after 9/11 that has never ended. It took a decade to find and kill the actual terrorist who ordered the attacks on 9/11, but in the meantime two shooting wars were launched, only one of which had even the slightest connection to the terrorists who attacked us. There was an elemental problem: The war on terror wasn't against an enemy, it was against an idea, and ideas don't die when you hit them with bombs and bullets.

And so, without a readily definable enemy who could be seen and shot and killed and defeated, which is what wars are usually for, lies were substituted. We were buried with lies, and not just any lies. They had to justify the movement of hundreds of thousands of troops and the expenditure of trillions of dollars in treasure and the loss of thousands more American lives than died on 9/11 and countless more lives — enemies, civilians and, my goodness gracious, even a few real flesh and blood terrorists.

Sept. 11, 2001, was when the Big Lie was born. Or should we say, Big Lies, because they came fast and furious. By now they are known to be so completely without any basis in reality, so wholly bogus, that they hardly bear recounting. Weapons of mass destruction? Connections between Iraq and its government and leaders and the terrorists who attacked us on 9/11? Ha!

And then came new Big Lies to support the earlier Big Lies: that we were "winning" the war on terror. How many times were we reassured that all those lives and all those dollars were not being pissed away for nothing? How many times were we reassured that we were rebuilding the countries that hadn't needed rebuilding until we attacked them? How many times were we told of the miraculous training of the Iraqi and Afghan armies? They even invented a new word that I never learned in the classes I took in military history at West Point, a word to describe the magic bullet that was going to win both wars: the surge. If only we sent 10,000 or 20,000 or 30,000 or 50,000 more troops, we could  win the mythical war on terror.

"Shock and awe" was a lie. "Taking Baghdad was a lie. The army of Iraq just went away. The "surge," each and every one of them, was a lie. "Winning" was a lie, every single time the word was used. Every. Single. Time. The Afghan army was a lie. It didn't even bother surrendering to the Taliban. It just went … poof. The Afghan "government" was a lie. It too went poof. The Iraqi government is a lie. Everything we have done to win the war on terror for two decades, 20 long years, has been a lie. We wasted trillions of dollars that could have been spent to, I don't know, feed hungry children in Arkansas? Pay for health care for poor families? Send kids to college? Reduce our dependence on fossil fuels and save our planet?

We wasted all those lives, American and Afghan and Iraqi and German and Australian and Polish and every other soldier from every other NATO country who died fighting "terror." And we killed hundreds of thousands of Afghan and Iraqi people for nothing.

For nothing.

The biggest Big Lie of them all was that it had meaning, that we accomplished something, that we somehow won the war on terror. Terror hasn't gone away. Hell, we're growing it ourselves now, right here at home.

I'll tell you another war we lost, maybe even a bigger and more important war than the war on terror. We lost the war on truth. And we were warned. Oh yes, we were warned. Take Donald Trump's first Big Lie right after 9/11 as just one example. He claimed — I hope you're sitting down for this — that he could see from his office window in Trump Tower crowds of Muslims across the Hudson River, several miles away, on the roofs of buildings in Jersey City, cheering as the World Trade Center fell.

Remember that one? It was such a patently outrageous lie that it zoomed right past without anyone noticing as the rest of the Big Lies hit one after another.

But Trump got away with it, and he learned from it. Oh, yes. He learned how the Big Lie worked. He learned from watching Bush get away with lying about WMDs, and he learned from the Big Lies that we were winning in Iraq and Afghanistan. So he started trying out other Big Lies of his own, like the one about how Barack Obama wasn't a citizen of the United States, that he had a fake birth certificate, that he was a "secret Muslim." Remember when Trump was all over the TV for days and days claiming that he had sent detectives to Hawaii? All we had to do was wait and he was going to reveal the "truth" about Obama.

He got away with his "birther" Big Lie, and he learned something that he has used ever since, something that helped him drive us into the ditch of the pandemic he lied about for a year, something that has helped him transform an entire political party, the Republican Party, from one of two normal political parties in this country into an authoritarian cult.

He learned that if he told Big Lies that were big enough, and if he repeated them enough times, that he could get away with it, just like Bush got away with lying about WMDs to get us into Iraq. And his party, the Republican Party, learned right along with him. Look at what they are doing right this minute about the insurrection he incited against the Congress of the United States in his naked attempt to overturn the election he lost. Donald Trump and the Republican Party are on a campaign to deny that it happened. They are trying to make a case that it wasn't Trump supporters who attacked the Capitol, it was somebody else, and those who were arrested are political prisoners facing false charges … and on and on and on.

The legacy 9/11 has left us is that there is no common set of facts we can agree on about anything: Not about the COVID pandemic and masks and vaccines; not about the climate change that has killed hundreds and left town after town burned to the ground or under water and destroyed by tornadoes and hurricanes. We cannot agree that votes counted amount to elections won or lost.  We cannot even agree on the common good of vaccines that will save us, that science is worth studying, that learned experts are worth listening to.

The lies that followed 9/11 have torn us apart as a nation and put our democracy in peril. That's our legacy: Lies are now considered by an entire political party to be legitimate political currency. A man who has told so many lies we have lost count of them is now a legitimate political figure supported for the highest office of the land by one of our two political parties.

Lies began tearing us apart after the attacks on 9/11, and we have not regained our footing as a nation. The question hanging over us now is whether we ever will.

Lucian Truscott

[thestraggletag]

Three Appointments and a Wedding

AN: Hi, @magicalgiven it is I, your Secret Santa! If I’m not mistaken we are both Argentinians in which case commiserate with me over the fucking hot weather we’ve been having. Because it fucking sucks. It was a pleasure to be your Santa, and I’m sorry this fic didn’t get smutty. I tried to add as much spice at the end as I could. It was challenging but fun because the accidental engagement prompt has been done a lot in the fandom so it was nice to try and put my spin on things. I hope you like it!

Prompt: Accidental engagement and consequences.

Summary: Mr Gold would do anything to help his only son plan his wedding, even if it is getting mistaked for the groom over and over as his crush gets mistaken for the bride. Over and over.

Rating: PG-13

He reminded himself that Bae had been clear about his distaste for a big wedding, and Emma as well. As far as they both were concerned they were better off with a simple civil ceremony and a honeymoon in Florida. But Emma’s parents insisted that their only child, their little princess, marry in style, so something grander was decided upon. He had to admit he hadn’t put up much of a fight. He did not have a lot in common with the Nolans- no matter how much David insisted on treating him like best mates whenever they met- but he did agree with them on the wedding. Bae was his only son and he wished to make a fuss about his wedding as well.

So he couldn’t really say no when Bae called to ask him to please take his place at a catering appointment in Portland. He had been summoned to a surprised meeting with a client that was a rather big to-do at his job. He did something related to web design that he couldn’t for the life of him understand, but it allowed him to work from home most of the time and stay in Storybrooke, so he was glad to be of assistance if he needed it.

He arrived at the catering business with a bit of time to spare, introducing himself and letting the person checking the appointment know he was waiting for someone. Not Miss Swan, because apparently she also had urgent business that could not be delayed- she did work in law enforcement, so there was a small chance she wasn’t lying to get out of “boring wedding stuff” as she kept calling it right in front of her mother and likely to annoy her. He had been told she would send Miss Lucas as a replacement, since she knew her way around a menu. He did not look forward to it, though perhaps he could amuse himself with trying to figure out how to raise the subject of the diner’s rent being due next week over talk of canapes. 

“Mr Gold, you got here before me!”

He turned around, a part of him recognising instantly that charming Australian lilt. He looked slightly down to find Miss Belle French, the town’s librarian as of three years. She was dressed, as always, rather charmingly, and looked less out of place in the city than in their small town. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long. The original plan was for Ruby to fill in for Emma, but Granny’s arthritis started acting up so she had to stay and help at the diner. Oh, please don’t tell Granny I told you that or she’ll never forgive me.”

He recalled she was an old friend of Miss Swan’s, from before she came back to Storybrooke, back when she was living in New York as a bit of a rebellion against her parents, doing bounty hunting work of all things. They had been roommates while Miss French went to NYU for her master’s in Library Science and worked at an antique bookstore. He knew only because he knew the bookstore and thought it smart to hold onto that piece of information. Book restoration and re-binding wasn’t his specialty, so it was nice to know of someone he could consult with if the need ever arose.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Miss French. I will even abstain of using the information against Granny the next time she tries to overcharge me for coffee. I hope you understand what a sacrifice that is.”

She laughed and he tried to pretend he didn’t feel overly smug about it, turning instead to open the door for her.

“Oh, Mr Gold, I see your fianceé is here! Lovely to meet the future Mrs Gold.”

He fumbled, his brain too caught up in what had just been said to register the small step on his way. He righted himself just as Miss French stammered a surprised denial.

“Oh, right, I apologise for assuming you would change your name after marriage, Miss Swan. Please, follow me.”

The man, a strongly-accented Frenchman, if his ears did not deceive him, swept past them and deeper into the shop, forcing them both to follow. The back was a rather nice dining area, small but with lots of windows to let in natural light. It was right next to the kitchen, but it still felt private and quiet. They were ushered into a table already prepared for them and served a sample of entrées along with a card detailing the ingredients of each one.

“Well, I suppose it’s an obvious mistake to make, and it would be unkind to correct him, he’d be mortified. I hope you don’t mind playing the would-be groom for a day, Mr Gold. At least we get some nice food out of it.”

“It’ll make a nice change from Granny’s overpriced lasagna.”

She slapped him gently on the arm, trying to conceal her smile, and he was surprised at how nice the gesture felt. Not many people touched him, and less with that sort of uncomplicated ease. He was glad that Miss French felt comfortable around him.

“So, what type of food does Miss Swan enjoy?”

“You should really begin calling her Emma, you know. And me Belle, none of that Miss French nonsense. This is not some nineteenth century pretend engagement, you know. I hope we can consider ourselves a modern pretend couple.” Miss French- Belle- smiled at him over the rim of her water glass before taking a sip. “As for Emma, she likes bar food. If it was up to her we’d serve peanuts and fries for entrées and burgers as the main course. I understand her parents talked her out of it, so perhaps nothing very fancy, but tasteful at the same time.”

He had given up on the day that morning, thinking it would be spent trying to make awkward conversation with a confrontational Miss Lucas, glaring daggers at him from across a rather small table because he dared charge rent for the property her grandmother rented from him. Instead he found himself discussing food and wine with someone he was infinitely more fond of and could not even muster enough grumpiness later in the evening to snark at Bae when he called later at night to thank him for subbing for him.

“It’ll be the last time, pops, I swear.”

.

The week after the catering appointment Bae called him in a panic to beg him to go for him to the florist appointment, also in Portland. He swallowed a few choice words learned in his youth in Glasgow, closed his shop and drove to the address Bae texted him. He was somewhat less surprised than before to find Miss French there, sitting on a bench outside the shop and reading a book. Something niggled at the back of his head but when he greeted her and they got to explain their presence he realised it made a bit more sense. Miss Swan’s job was a bit emergency-heavy and Miss French was the daughter of a florist, so it made sense to send her as a replacement.

She knew her stuff, as he could tell almost as soon as they set foot into the shop, to the delight of the old, red-haired florist that handled their appointment. The librarian engaged her in a rather interesting discussion on the meaning of flowers and the importance of harmonious scents, something he had never considered before. They spent a rather lovely hour touring the greenhouse and browsing through the catalogues, with Miss French- “Honestly, Arran, it’s Belle, you agreed!”- making a game out of it, picking something and having him guess whether it was a choice for Miss Swan’s wedding or a reflection of personal taste. He learned from it that Belle liked blue as much as her outfits had already implied and that she loved hydrangeas, thought them elegant but soft.

“Too soft for Emma. She likes bold colours and is not fond of traditional flowers, so I was thinking perhaps something with bougainvilleas? They have such lovely deep pink colour, almost red. What do you think?”

It was a bit intoxicating, the smell of the flowers, the heat of the shop and Belle French talking about flowers with a passion that stirred something in him that had nothing to do with centerpieces or boutonnieres. It wasn’t until they were out of it, inhaling the crisp evening Portland air, that he realised the florist had mistaken them for the engaged couple as well, and neither of them had made any effort to correct her. Well, that would’ve been rude, he reasoned. No need to put the old woman in the spot.

.

The morning of the cake-tasting appointment he had woken up with the knowledge that he was likely to get a “surprise” call from Bae begging him to “fill in” for him at the cake shop, and he could not even bring himself to feel angry about it. The wedding was, after all, a rather rushed affair, seeing as to how it was not what either the bride or groom had planned for, so allowances had to be made for the couple. That or they both were trying to punish their parents for pushing on them a grander event than the one they had wanted in the first place.

On his way out of town he passed by the library, insisting he would drive Miss French who was, surprisingly, filling in for Miss Swan again. She didn’t seem to mind yet another disruption into her schedule.

“I love Storybrooke, but I don’t mind admitting that it���s nice to go out to a big city every now and then.”

The bakery that would make the cake- one of the few that would accommodate the short notice of the order placement- was located in Bangor, which seemed to merge big-city vibes with small-town charm. The bakery itself was lovely, with a white and beige storefront and a myriad of colourful treats on display. It smelled strongly of vanilla and chocolate inside, and there was a dreamy, romantic sort of quality to the decoration. They were ushered into a warm, cosy room where they spent the next hour and a half tasting different cakes, one better than the next.

“Emma is a bit chocolate obsessed, so I’m leaning towards the chocolate champagne one. It was delicious.”

He tried not to replay in his mind the way she had moaned at the first taste of that one, eyes closing in absolute bliss.

“I still can’t believe that little urchin had me fill in for him again, so I’m not even considering his tastes. My vote is for the strawberry shortcake.”

Belle frowned, idly liking some frosting from her fork. His left hand tightened around the napkin on his lap.

“Isn’t Bae allergic to strawberries?”

“Exactly.”

The librarian laughed, which he was rather surprised by. Very few shared his rather dark sense of humour, most found the content and his delivery of it rather off-putting. He tried not to preen at the idea. 

“Might want to hold on in killing him until after the wedding. After all, we have invested quite a few hours into the preparation already. Feels more like our wedding, in a way.”

He choked on a rather lovely piece of red velvet cheesecake, fumbling for his glass of water to try and wash it down. He realised the danger he was in, all of a sudden, perhaps too late. His crush had been safe when he had not had much of a chance to interact with the librarian and get to know her. But spending entire days with her had changed things, giving his feelings depth that he did not entirely appreciate. His instinct of self-preservation was urging him to do something. Say something mean or cutting, or close himself off. Perhaps invent some business emergency and leave, letting Belle figure out on her own how to get back to town. If she was cross with him, if she hated him, if she decided to keep his distance, he would be safe.

But, surprisingly, he found that he was rather tired of feeling safe, and of pushing people away.

.

“You know, we didn’t do half-bad in the end, all things considered.”

He turned around, tearing his eyes away from his son and his new wife trying to waltz. He was sure someone was filming it, anyway, and he’d get to tease Bae about it later. Belle looked absolutely stunning in a Halston dress, an architectural number in navy blue with a champagne-coloured lining that peeped from the folds of the skirts and a bit of a train in the back, the hem landing above the knee at the front and below it at the back. It was a far cry from what most women were wearing, in particular the friends of the mother of the bride, but it was exactly what he had expected from her: bold, flirty, and the slightest bit of out place in a small town, without really seeming to realise. Her lips were a lovely deep, dark red and smiling wide. At him, of all people.

“Yes. The flowers do look splendid, Miss French. You have quite an eye for it.”

She hooked her arm through his, looking admonishingly up at him.

“It’s Belle. Unless you’ve decided I cannot call you Arran anymore.”

If he were stronger, he would politely insist on calling her Miss French, thus gently reestablishing their more formal dynamic. It would be safer, certainly. But he found himself unable to muster the energy for it. It was a happy day, and he was ecstatic as the father of the groom should be. Seemed like the occasion to do what he wanted and not necessarily what he thought was best. Indulge a bit.

“Belle, then. I rather like how you pronounce my name, seems a shame to make you stop.”

Her eyes widened, and so did her smile. He tried to remember how many glasses of champagne he had drunk, but could not recall. He had indulged there too, but that was only because he had been sitting next to David Nolan for dinner and he had kept trying to talk to him about sports. He had made the mistake of trying to discuss the UEFA Super Cup, but that had only led to ten minutes of David Nolan referring to football as soccer and displaying no understanding of the rules of the game.

“So, how’s the proud father? Was it all you hoped it would be?”

He looked around. The venue was lovely, a manor outside Storybrooke that was used exclusively for events like weddings and such, with extensive gardens and lovely, broad balconies. The Nolans had secured the place, seemed they knew the owner and had been able to pull some strings. It was decorated a bit like an enchanted forest, in shades of silver, gold and bold touches of bright pink and dark blue.

“Well, Bae remembered his lines and didn’t step on Miss Swan’s train at any point so the wedding has exceeded my wildest expectations.”

He glanced again towards his son, dancing something a bit more lively with Emma and looking infinitely more at ease doing so. They truly suited each other, and he was glad of that. Glad that Bae would know, hopefully, nothing but love in his family he meant to build for himself.

“It’s a lovely song. Would you care to dance?”

A tricky question, since the answer was both a resounding no and a desperate yes, but he merely pointed towards his cane as a way out. It seemed he was not the only one emboldened by drink, however, if Belle’s flashing eyes and red cheeks were anything to go by.

“Oh, come on, just some gentle swaying. We could go outside, if you don’t wish others to see. It’s a bit stuffy in here anyway.”

There was no way for him to deny her, nor did he wish to anymore. He let her lead him out, into one of the terrace-like balconies attached to the ballroom, and wrapped her arms around his neck, prompting his own to wrap around her waist. They soon fell into a slow, easy rhythm, lazy and yet strangely exhilarating. He felt loose and tightly-wound at the same time, and could not decide whether he liked the feeling or not.

“It really is a lovely wedding, by the way.”

“Yes, I think we did rather well, all things considered. Certainly more than what Bae deserved, taking into account how little he worked for it.”

She tugged on his hair, he assumed as a way to chastise him. It had rather the opposite result, sending a jolt of fizzy pleasure up and down his spine.

“You rather enjoyed it, admit it. And I did too. In a way it’s sad that the wedding has happened and our outings are at an end.”

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, teeth worrying her lower lip the slightest bit. He got the feeling that there was something he was not seeing or sensing, some signal he was not quite deciphering. But it was getting rather difficult to think, with the champagne in his veins, and the feel of Belle in his arms and the way she smelt like orange blossom. 

“You look lovely, by the way.” He realised he hadn’t told her, and it seemed like a major oversight. “Stunning, really. Gorgeous. Too good to be wasting your time out on the balcony with me.”

What the fuck was wrong with him? When had he lost complete control of his bleeding mouth?

“Don’t say that. I like spending time with you. A lot.” She bit her lip again and he wondered if his blood pressure could take it. “Actually, I was hoping we could spend more time together, if you wished it.”

There was no mistaking the flirty turn of her lips, or the coyness dancing in her eyes, even to an expert in self-denial such as him. He tried to form words to reply to her, something along the lines of “Yes, please” or “Is it tomorrow night too soon?” but his vocal cords were suddenly useless, and in a sudden panic that she would interpret his stupid silence for a rejection of her advances he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. He felt her stiffen in his arms for a second, saw her eyes widen in surprise, but the next moment she was pressing back against him, tipping her head back to better capture his mouth with her own. She took absolute control with a quiet, fierce determination that he found incredibly erotic. He was happy to reciprocate, to tighten his arm around her waist and open his mouth to her, his left hand tightening around the handle of his cane with something that felt like petulant frustration at not being able to simply drop the damned thing hold her properly, perhaps delve a hand into her hair, feel if it was as soft as it always looked. 

She seemed to read his mind, for she maneuvered them clumsily towards the rather tall balustrade. He eagerly leaned against it before dropping his cane in the nick of time to catch the librarian’s leg, which sought to wrap itself around his waist. Her obvious, undisguised want was disarming, making him forget himself in a way he had never allowed himself to-

“Papa, what the fuck?”

“Belle!”

Both him and Belle startled, with her regretfully taking a few steps away from him, leaving him to notice the chill in the air. When he glanced at the entrance of the balcony he saw his son and Miss Swan, looking radiant in her Vera Wang dress and also, bizarrely, quite smug.

“Hey, Bae, didn’t see you there.”

His accent barely made the words intelligible, but there was no helping that. He always lost control of his brogue when he was nervous.

“Clearly!” Bae sounded shrill, more child than man. Reminded him of the infamous temper-tantrums the lad had thrown once upon a time. “How could you? At my own wedding?!”

Fuck, he was right. He had been caught fucking making-out and almost doing God-knew-what just a few bloody steps away from his son’s wedding reception. What was the matter with him?

“I mean, why couldn’t you wait? I had almost won the bet!”

What?

“You only had to last until after the wedding! I was so close, pops! And you were doing so well!”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very sad. Now remember, Bae, you promised at least two dances with Regina’s sister. At least she’s unlikely to hit on you at your own wedding, so there’s that.”

Emma smiled up at her new husband, kissed his cheek, turned him around and directed him back towards the ballroom with a not-so-gentle smack in the ass. She smiled, gave Belle a thumbs up and an “atta girl” and walked out of the balcony, closing the French doors behind her.

“What the fuck was that?”

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 13

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff, curse words, a little bit of NSFW - If you are under 18 please do not read!

Word Count: 6,700

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.  

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 12

**

The boys had no clue about your plan. Frankly, no one knew what your plan was. You weren’t trying to be secretive, no, you just didn’t want all the fuss. One week was more than enough time to host someone in your home. Two weeks was outlandish. You would simply tell them later in the week that you were staying in Boston for an additional week. On your own.

You had rented a one bedroom apartment in the city near the harbor. Chris had been putting a lot of extra effort into your relationship recently by coming to stay with you every few weeks. You wanted to see if Boston was a place you could see yourself spending a lot of time in. Staying with Scott or Chris for the second week wouldn’t really allow for you to see if you could be comfortable there by yourself. You wanted to check out the coffee shops, parks, and small eateries. You had read through numerous travel sites and blogs by locals who boasted the neighborhoods that were not only hip, but had low crime rates.

Chris had gone back to Massachusetts from his latest visit just over a week ago and you had already begun to miss him. When he sent you a text three days after leaving, telling you he was missing you, you instantly felt relieved. The two of you had spent a lot of time talking on his visits which ultimately brought you closer. He slept in your bed all three days of this last trip, never pressing for more than a cuddle and a few kisses. Chris spent a great amount of time talking with you into the early morning hours about how it would be when he was away filming. The two of you would need to survive on Skype or Facetime as he was often away for months at a time. He said that you could visit him on set, but your time together would be limited.

The additional week in Boston was born from the vacation time you had to use or lose with the Orlando Sentinel. Asia was quick to agree that your start date with News Now could begin a few days after you returned from your trip. Having the ability to work from anywhere was a huge positive. Your lease would be coming up for renewal in February and you were honestly struggling with staying or leaving Orlando.

Central Florida had been your home for sixteen years, but you were still only renting. That had to mean something. You didn’t miss the long winters of Minnesota, but you did miss your family. Minnesota felt safe and comfortable for a place to start over again, but you still weren’t sure that was the right step for you. Logically, it was too soon to move to Boston. You were never the girl to move somewhere for a guy. Chris was one of the people closest to you, but the two of you were barely a couple. But why the hell was your heart telling you to give it a shot? At least you had a couple of months to figure it all out.

**

You had swung by Krispy Kreme on the way to Jana’s office armed with a coupon for half off a dozen. Not that you needed a dozen donuts, but a deal was a deal. That’s how you’d always been. You weren’t one of those coupon clippers, but you always shopped on sale and always looked in the clearance section. If there was a bargain to be had, you were a willing participant. This is why even looking at places to rent for the long term in Boston frightened you. Sticker shock was an understatement. You could buy a new, large family home in the suburbs of Minneapolis for the same price you could purchase a studio apartment in Boston. Technically, you could look outside of the city, but that’s something you’d have to think about later when a decision needed to be made.

“I brought food,” you greeted her, shoving the box in her face as she signed you in to the building.

“That’s not food.”

“You can eat it Jana. I’m pretty sure Brooks consumes these five days a week.”

“Fine. Maybe just one,” she replied, reaching into the box and pulling out a glazed one once you got to her office. You gave her a satisfied smirk before grabbing one for yourself. “You ready to work with Brooks again?”

“Is one ever ready? But seriously, I didn’t exactly work with him when he was at the paper so even now I still won’t see him,” you shrugged, taking a huge bite and promptly licking your fingers to Jana’s dismay.

“When are you starting again?”

“Like the twenty eighth. Some time that week. I’m going to try to have something to submit that week. Maybe about my time in Boston. Who knows?”

“You call me the workaholic, yet you’re working on vacation,” Jana said.

“Well, I’m nervous as shit, so I just want to be ready to go with something.”

With promises of dinner together when you returned, you left her office with the box of donuts in hand. Rather than heading straight for the elevator, you decided to stop by Ethan’s office. His door was open, but he was engrossed in a law book.    

“Hey,” you called out loud enough for him to hear you but soft enough not to startle him.

He looked up, grinning when he saw it was you. “How are you?”

“Good. I’ve come to tempt you with sugar,” you said holding up the box.

“No bribing needed. Whaddaya got?”

“A little bit of everything,” you said, stepping into the room and placing the box on the desk. You opened it for him to pick. He quickly pulled out one of the custard filled ones, moaning at the taste.

“Thank you,” he murmured, mouth still full.

You gave him an honest smile. Speaking to him the last time you were in the office really got rid of that tension about seeing him.

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“How much time do you have?” you asked.

“For you? As much as you need.” He gestured to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk.

You told him about the new job and how much you were looking forward to the change. You left out the part about possibly moving since nothing was set in stone, so there was no need to get into that.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he started, you giving him a questioning look. “When I said that stupid thing about your job. 100% didn’t mean it. I was just angry and I aimed low. You’re a great writer. I read everything you wrote when we were together, and I still read it today.”

You gave him a small smile. “Thanks for saying that. And you still read it?” you asked surprisingly.

“Got to get my Disney news from a reliable source,” he shrugs.

**

Boston’s weather seems to be all over the place with predictions for the next two weeks being anywhere from the fifties to the low seventies. You packed a large suitcase and your trusty leather carryon with a few sweaters, sweatshirts, t-shirts, jeans, leggings and a couple pairs of short boots. You’ll wear your sneakers to the airport. At least that’s one less thing to pack. You’re staying with Scott and Zach, but you toy over bringing your cute yet flirty pajamas and lingerie. You and Chris aren’t exclusive, at least not technically. He told you he isn’t seeing anyone else and isn’t planning on either. But the words boyfriend and girlfriend or partner haven’t been uttered. Taking a guess, he’s most likely waiting for you to say it since he doesn’t want to push you. You’re not even sure how much you’ll be seeing him this trip. He said he’ll be around, but never made actual plans with you. Picking up your cell, you shot him a text.

Y/N: When am I seeing you in Boston.

Chris: All the time?

The fact that he adds that question mark makes you laugh.

Y/N: Well, we never made plans, so I wasn’t sure if you have stuff going on all week.

Chris: You’re such a dork. You’re coming to my town and you have to question when you’re going to see me?

Y/N: I thought it was Scott’s town, you know, since I’m staying with him.

Chris: What?!

Chris: That’s not fair. You didn’t even give me the chance to offer 😔

Y/N: My poor baby. I’ll be sure to kiss it all better.

Chris: You better

Yep, you were packing the cute underwear.

**

You sent Scott a text as soon as you landed.

Scott: On my way. White BMW.

Grabbing your bag from the conveyer belt, you grabbed a coffee before going out to short term parking where he said he’d meet you. The temperature was a cool sixty-three degrees, so you were dressed in a cozy hunter green sweater, jeans, and browns boots. You thought about throwing on a jacket, but figured the boys would tease you. Minnesota you would have teased you, but you’d been in Florida too long now. Sixty was cold.

Crossing over to the ramp, you looked around for a white BMW as instructed. A sudden honk jolted you, causing coffee to spurt out through the cup’s cover.

“Mother fucker!” you whispered to yourself.

The offending driver jumped out of the car, jogging toward you. “Shit! Sorry!” It was Chris rather than Scott. NASA hat on his head, Pats sweatshirt, and jeans. The epitome of casual, yet it he looked good.

When does he not look good?

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said, dropping your carryon to the ground and hugging him with your free hand. “I should be smacking you rather than hugging you.”

“M’sorry. Wanted to surprise you,” he said pulling away.

You kissed the pout on his lips, Chris smiling as soon you pulled back. He bent down grabbing your bag from the ground and then grabbed the handle on your suitcase. You followed behind him, admiring the view.

He really is America’s Ass.

The drive to Scott’s didn’t take long. He had a large two-bedroom condo in the city. Parking was a challenge, but Scott had purchased a second spot a year ago and since Zach wasn’t’ home, Chris parked there.

He grabbed your two bags while you easily toted your purse and now empty coffee cup into the building’s entrance and up the elevator. Chris walked in without knocking, but you supposed Scott knew you were coming since you did text him when you landed.

“I brought you a gift!” Chris called out.

Scott walked into the entry and living room giving you a big smile. “Oh. Is there a return policy?”

“You are such a brat!” you spat out. “Does your mother have room at her place? Feel like I’d getting a warmer welcome there.”

“Sassy, don’t give me no lip. You know I love you,” Scott said, pulling you into a hug. You let your arms hang to give him that bit of attitude, plus you still had your purse and cup in hand.

“Ahuh, love you too,” you replied.

Scott showed you to your room for the week while Chris followed behind, setting your bags on the floor. Light blue walls with dark wood furniture made up the room. A queen size bed placed in the center with a chest of drawers sat on the opposite wall. A relatively large flat screen TV mounted to the wall above the chest. On each side of the bed were a matching set of night stands. A vase of white daisies sat on the right-hand side.

“Bathroom is across the hall. Dinner is at six. Don’t be late. No fucking in your room,” he said, pointing between you and Chris, closing the door as he left. “Or at least be quiet about it,” he said through the door.

Chris looked at you with raised eyebrows while you shook your head. “Uh, we don’t have to,” he said.

“Well, definitely not now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, totally. That’s just Scott,” Chris said, shrugging. He was nervous and it made you smile.

Chris stayed for dinner but left around eight kissing you breathless before wishing you a goodnight.

**

Scott, Zach and yourself hit the road early starting with the Freedom Trail, making sure to see the graves of Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere before stopping at the Old State House. Chris had wanted to join the three of you, but when you mentioned he would draw in a crowd being that you would be surrounded by tourists, he was quick to change his mind.

Scott brought you to Beacon Hill where you fell in love with the architecture of the beautiful brick homes. When he told you the average price, you choked on your breath, quickly deciding it wasn’t anywhere you would be able to live.

You moved on to Charles Street, stopping in a few shops to buy something for Jana as well as yourself. When it was time for lunch, Scott and Zach brought you to Cheers bar on Beacon Hill. Scott told you there actually two locations, this one was used for the exterior shots for the show. It was everything you imagined it would be. You were too young to enjoy the show when it aired originally, but picked up on the reruns when you were in your late twenties.

Harvard University was as grand and as beautiful as you imagined it would be bathed in the gorgeousness that is fall. You treated to the boys to ice cream, finding a nice spot on a grassy lawn filled with students and tourists alike. Scott took a few pictures of you with ice cream cone in hand and red and orange leaves all around you. You did the same for each of them. The spontaneous photoshoot turned into a leaf fight as Zach dumped a large handful on Scott’s head.

**

Nervous seemed like such an inadequate word to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t even a nail biter but you couldn’t keep your thumb out of your mouth as you chewed the corner repeatedly.

“Would you stop it? You’ve met her,” Scott said, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look at you.

“Yeah and she thought I was some floozy.” Scott snorted. “Do people still say floozy?”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t. And you know that’s because she didn’t know you were you. It’ll be fine. She loves you. I talk about you all the time. Well, not all the time, but I talk about you and she loves you.” You took a deep breath. “Now keep that finger out of your mouth. She will judge you for jagged fingernails.”

“Such a brat,” you said softly.

“Me? Do I need to have Chris take you and all your luggage back to his place tonight? Why’d you pack so much anyway? Must’ve packed like three winter coats or somethin’.”

“Shuddup,” you murmured. You’d only been in town for four nights and weren’t planning on having this conversation until Friday. “Was going to tell you later, but might as well tell you now. But do not tell Chris. I will tell him later,” you warned.

“Sounds serious,” he said.

“You know how with this new job I can pretty much work from where ever I’d like?” Scott nodded his head. “I’m still trying to figure that all out. Not that I don’t love Florida. Jana and Brooks are my family there, but I’m thinking it might be time to make a change. I thought about Minnesota since my parents and brother are there, but I also wanted to see how I’d like Boston.”

“What are you gettin’ at Y/N?”

“I’m staying in town next week. I rented an apartment to see if I feel comfortable here.”

Scott let out a low whistle. “Chris is going to be pissed,” he sing-songed the last word.

“You think?” you asked.

“Oh yeah.”

“Like pissed because I’ve thought about maybe splitting my time here or moving here?”

“Oh god, no. He’d probably love the fuck out of that. He’s going to be pissed you aren’t staying with him.”

You didn’t even think of that. The idea of having your own space to see if you’d like being here was still the right decision, but he was right. Chris would probably be upset you didn’t tell him what you were thinking. And he’d probably be mad you weren’t staying with him.

“Shuddup,” you said again.

**

“Ma! Your favorite son and Sassy are here,” Scott called out after opening the front door to his mother’s house.

“I’m already here,” Chris called from what looked like the kitchen. He walked into the entryway pulling you into a hug. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me at breakfast,” you replied, kissing his lips quickly before anyone else came in the room.

“Still missed you.” He interlaced your fingers and pulled you toward the kitchen. “Cah’mon.”

Lisa, the boy’s mother was in front of the stove, a few pans sizzling on the burners. It smelled delicious, so you knew you were in for a good meal.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again. How are you enjoying your stay?” she said turning to face you.

It was all so formal, you instantly jumped into interview mode.

“It’s been quite wonderful. Scott’s been a great host,” you replied.

She smiled warmly and went back to her pans.

“When are the girls getting here?” Scott asked.

“Should be here soon. Why don’t the three of you show Y/N around?”

Chris gave you the tour while Scott plopped himself on the sofa in the family room.

“And this was my room,” he said, opening the door. It was set up as a guestroom with a full-size bed pressed against the center of the far wall.

“So, is this where the Sandra Bullock poster used to hang?” you said pointing at the ceiling.

“Et tu, Brute? Never going to live that down.” Chis said, shaking his head.

“Oh, everyone does it babe. I’m pretty sure I had a couple of NSYNC pictures torn from magazines hanging on my walls. I know I had one of Joey Lawrence.”

“Joey Lawrence?” he chuckled.

“He looked good in Blossom when I was a kid. He had great hair.”

“Yeah? What do you think of my hair?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, giving the end a slight tug. “This hair?” you said softly, your face close to his. “This hair, I can’t get enough of. Probably the sexiest head I’ve seen in a week.”

“A week? You runnin’ your fingers through someone else’s hair?” he asked, his breath hot against your lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He pressed his lips against yours. Arms instantly tugging you closer while you kept one hand in his hair and the other around his neck. Kissing Chris would never get old. He walked backwards until his legs hit the edge of the mattress, lowering himself down and pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands instantly going to your ass as he pulled you to straddle him closer. A moan broke from your throat, catching you off guard.

“That’s it baby,” Chris whispered, lips attaching themselves to your jaw.

Instantly you were reminded that you were indeed in his mother’s house. The same mother who thought you were just a hook up when she first met. You sighed, loosening your grip from around his neck. Chris continued to kiss across your jaw and down your neck.

“We’re in your mother’s house babe,” you said.

“And?” he muttered into your neck.

“And, she probably wouldn’t appreciate this going on in her guestroom.”

He pulled back a bit, finding your lips and placing a kiss there. “I beg to differ, but I suppose this isn’t how you want to meet my sisters.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. You crawled off his lap and a ran a hand through your hair. It was a good thing that you only had on lip balm, because surely had it been lipstick it would have been a mess on your face. You tugged at your sweater, making sure the neck was straightened before turning back to Chris and smiling. “Why don’t I spend the night at that construction zone you’re calling a house tomorrow night?”

“Really?” he asked, eager smile on his face.

“Yes, really.” You’d tell Chris tomorrow about your extended stay. It would just be the two of you tomorrow, so it would be easier to talk to him about your thoughts on possibly moving. You hoped he’d be honest with his feelings on it as well.

The two of you made your way back to the family room, immediately spying Chris’ sisters. Scott told you tonight’s dinner would just be the siblings as his mom wanted to keep it small and casual as they got to know you. Saturday would have the whole Evans’ clan in attendance for a potluck type lunch.

“Nice of you two to finally join us,” Chris greeted Carly and Shanna.

“We’re on time, you’re just always early,” Shanna said.

“Wait until you have kids. You’ll see how long it takes to get out of the house,” Carly spat.

“Anyway. This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, these are my sisters Carly and Shanna.”

Whoa. Girlfriend. I guess he’s saying it first.

You felt your face heat up, but you quickly extended your hand to Carly first who pulled you into a hug and then passed you to Shanna who did the same.

“Great to meet the often talked about Sassy,” Shanna said with a giggle.

“Oh boy. Hopefully only good things,” you replied.

“Maybe. Siblings never rat each other out, so we simply can’t say,” Carly added shrugging her shoulders.

“You know damn well, no one is saying anything bad about you Sassy. It’s  Chris that needs to worry,” Scott said. Shanna instantly nodding in agreement.

“Let’s get a drink!” Carly said, putting her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to the kitchen.

With beers in hand, the five of you went back into the family, sandwiching between Chris and Shanna on the couch. A few minutes later Lisa came and joined you. “Dinner in ten minutes kids,” she said, squishing next to Scott on a large oversized chair.

“Sounds good, Ma,” Chris said.

“What are you kids talking about?”

“We were just getting ready to interrogate Y/N,” Carly said, giving you a wink.

“No, we most certainly were not,” Chris said, putting his arm around you and pulling you close.

You chuckled lightly, patting his thigh with your hand. “Babe, it’s fine.” You pulled away and looked at each of the three women. “What would you like to know?”

“Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t we wait until we sit down?” Lisa offered.

**

With dinner on the table, you readied yourself for an onslaught of questions.

“So, you’re from Florida?” Carly asked.

“Actually, I’m from Minnesota. I moved to Florida for college and just stayed.”

“And you’re a Disney person?” Shanna asked.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. “I worked, well, still work for the Orlando Sentinel covering anything and everything Disney parks. I’m not sure if the guys told you I recently took a different job, but I’ll still be covering some Disney parks’ news.”

“They did. Congratulations Y/N. It sounds like it was a change you were looking to make,” Lisa said.

“It was. I love covering the parks, but I’ve written a lot of current events articles for various magazines and I’d really like to delve into that.”

Chris squeezed your knee pulling your attention to him. He beamed at you, literally beamed. You knew he was happy for you but this told you that he was happy with how this meeting was going.

“Do you have any siblings?” Shanna asked.

“I have one brother and his name is Heath. He’s three years younger than me. And I have a bunch of cousins that are all around our age, so they always felt like siblings growing up.”

“Are you all still close?” Lisa asked.

“My brother and I are, but it gets harder to keep in touch with my cousins as we get older.”

“Have you ever been married?” Shanna inquired.

“Shanna!” Chris hissed.

You looked at Chris and gave him a smile. “It’s fine. No, I’ve never been married nor engaged. I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships, but not in the last few years.”

Shanna smiled, apparently satisfied with your answer.

**

After dinner, you offered to help Lisa with pouring coffee and dishing up the cake she had made.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for that day I met you in Epcot. I didn’t treat you fairly and I honestly feel awful about it.” She turned away from the cake to face you. “Scott has always spoken so highly of you. I truly am sorry that I wasn’t as welcoming as I should have been.” Lisa stepped closer to you, grabbing both of your hands with hers. “Chris hadn’t mentioned that you were the same friend that Scott had told me about. So, when he said he was meeting up with a friend, I was a little annoyed. I thought that this friend was someone that he just had met, so I was disappointed it was taking time away from the kids.” She chuckled softly. “That sounds awful. It’s not that Christopher does that regularly. He never does that.” She took a breath and started again. “Oh boy, I’m probably getting him into trouble with you.” You chuckled at her words and shook your head. “My point is, I’m sorry and I hope we can be friends because you are obviously a very important woman in both my sons’ lives.”

“No hard feeling at all and I hope we can be friends as well.” You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around here. She quickly followed suit, patting your back gently with one hand.

“Are we getting cake or what?” Chris asked, stepping into the room. “Didn’t know I was breaking up a Hallmark moment.”

“Har-har Christopher. Come grab some of these plates,” Lisa said.

Chris stepped close to you, grabbing a plate while you poured another cup of coffee. “Everything okay?”

“Completely,” you said with a smile.

**

“Are you really leaving me for my brother?” Scott asked in his best daytime soap opera voice.

“Well, I’ve seen him naked, so...” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders.

“All you had to do was ask,” Scott offered.

“I’m sure Zach and Chris would love to hear that.” You patted his head, grabbing your carryon bag from the couch, making sure you had everything for the night. “I’ll be back with you tomorrow night for our best friends sleep over party like we planned. No boys allowed except for you.”

“Damn right! I’ll be sure to stock up on raspberry vodka.”

“No! Only wine. I learned my lesson when you got me drunk.” Scott scoffed, but waved you off. Chris was down stairs circling the block since he couldn’t find a spot to park. “Tell Zach when he gets up from his nap that I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“I will. Have fun and use protection!” Scott yelled out. You promptly flicked him off and shut the door.

**

Chris’ house was beautiful, even if it was being remodeled. The rooms that were currently being redone were the two guestrooms, the office, a guest bathroom, and the deck.

“See, you totally could have stayed here the whole time. Plenty of space for just you and me.”

The two of you were laying on his really comfortable couch. You between his legs and back against his chest. He kissed your neck and you hummed.

“Well, I remember someone telling me his house was practically unlivable. Then Scott offered and who am I to refuse? You’ll just have to have me stay another time.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied, then kissed your neck again.

“Your house is gorgeous. I really love this room and I’m sure this wall of windows out to the deck will look even better when it’s finished.”

“It’s going to be great. Like a second living space. At least that’s what the designer tells me. How are you likin’ Boston?”

You turned to face him slightly, tucking one leg underneath yourself. You licked your lips nervously.

Now or never.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Now, don’t get mad,” you started, Chris raising his eyebrows. “That’s not what I mean. Um. Okay, so you know how I mentioned that with this new job, I can spend time here with you or I could spend time with my family and work at the same time?” He nodded his head. “Well, I’m thinking about maybe relocating. I’m not sure what I want to do yet and I don’t need to make a decision right away. My lease isn’t even up until February.”

Chris face lit up, his smile as big as you’ve ever seen it. “What are you saying, Y/N. You movin’ here?”

“Not sure yet, that’s what I’m getting at. I’m staying in Boston another week.”

“You want to stay with me?”

“That’s the thing. I gotta make sure I’m comfortable being here. You’re not always here. Months at a time when you’re filming even. So, I actually rented an apartment for a week to see if I like the area.”

“Sweetheart, you could still stay with me and figure out if this is the place you want to be.”

“I know, but if I did move here, I’d have my own place so I wanted to get the feel of it. I didn’t mention it to you or Scott because I didn’t want you both insisting that I stay with you.” Chris narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t give me that look. It’s way too early for me to be moving in with you. We both know that.”

“Fine. You’re probably right,” he murmured.

“Maybe I can cook you dinner at my pretend apartment next week,” you offered.

“You better. Don’t think you’re staying a whole ‘nother week and not seeing me almost every day.”

“Babe,” you sighed out. “The whole point of me staying another week is to see if I can get along on my own. If we are hanging out every day, that’s not how life is always going to be.”

“Five days.”

“Two days,” you offered.

“Two days?! Sweetheart…Four days.”

“Three, and that’s my final offer,” you concluded.

“Deal. But that’s you and me time. No Scott.”

“That’s fine by me. But it’s not an all-day deal. I want to try to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grabbing your face and pulling it to his lips.

“Let’s go to bed,” you said, standing up and pulling him up with your hand. The two of you walked into his room, you slipping into the en suite.

You pulled off your sweater, cami, and jeans, folding them neatly and placing them on the far side of the vanity. You took a deep breath, admiring the see-through black bra and matching panties. You were ready to be intimate with Chris again and you hoped he was feeling the same. Giving yourself one last look, you ran your fingers through your hair and pinched your cheeks. You were feeling confident and you hoped it showed. Taking one more deep breath, you steadied yourself and opened the bathroom door, walking back in the room to Chris who had changed into a t-shirt that he wore with his boxers.

“Sweetheart,” he said with a shaky breath.

“Hi, Chris,” you said, moving closer to him. He sprung to his feet to stand in front of you. Your hands went to his chest, placing both palms on him. “Make love to me.”

It came out more like a statement than a question and you were proud of yourself in that moment. Chris visibly gulped, licking his lips, he nodded. His arms instantly wrapped around you, caging yours to his body.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve missed you,” he said softly. His lips trailed from yours to your neck, back up to that spot behind your ear that made your knees shake. He walked you to the bed, gently laying you down with him coming to lay beside you. His knee went between your legs opening you up to him. One hand caressed your pussy over your panties as he mouthed your nipple through your bra, causing goosebumps to erupt down your body. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, god yes. I want you babe,” you moaned as his mouth went to your other breast.

While the first time the two of you were together was fun and full of nervous energy, this time was the two of you truly making love. Chris took his time worshiping your body. It was slow and soft and you knew that it was absolutely right.

**

Lisa’s home was stuffed to capacity, much of the guests spilling into the backyard. It wasn’t just the Evans clan in attendance today. Everyone brought friends who they considered family. The names of everyone you met started to swirl together. The family was easy enough to get down as you met the kids back in May. Carly’s husband, Shanna’s boyfriend, a few cousins, and uncle were added to the list. Chris had a few buddies there as well as Scott that they introduced you to. Everyone was warm and welcoming and you felt at ease as they all seemed to want to get to know you. These were the important people in Chris’ life, so they were important to you as well.

Chris was relaxed which you loved to see. He had a few beers but wasn’t out of control. When you were around each other, he kept a hand on you. On your back. On your side. Around your shoulders. On your cheek. It was sweet and welcome, especially after the night you spent together.

You decided to stick to lemonade during the day, switching to white wine as the day went on. Getting drunk in front of these people wasn’t something you wanted to do even if Scott was trying to make that happen. He’d walk by with a bottle in hand and you’d quickly cover the top of your glass with your hand. It was slumber party night back at Scott’s, one of you had to be responsible enough to drive you home later.

One person you hadn’t even thought of meeting was Courtney. It was foolish of you to forget about her since Scott had told you she had been a long-time friend of the family, not to mention Chris’ on and off girlfriend for years. You wanted to like her and you wanted her to like you. It was such a weird thought to have. She’s Chris’ ex after all. She had been around for his other girlfriends including his longer relationships.

“Y/N, this is Courtney,” Scott introduced.

She gave you a polite smile and a wave which you returned. “The famous Sassy! I’ve seen you on Scott’s Instagram account,” she said.

Okay. This isn’t so bad.

“That would be me. It’s nice to meet you.”

She was prettier in person than she was in pictures. The kind of girl that didn’t need makeup but wore it anyway and it only enhanced her natural beauty. She was dressed casually in jeans and sweater, yet she looked unbelievably put together.

“You in town long?” she asked.

“Another week, then I’m back to the warmth,” you said with a smile.

“Suppose this is quite the change for you. Plus, the Evans family can be quite overwhelming.”

Scott scoffed at that, pushing her shoulder. “Only some of the Evans’ are overwhelming. I’m wonderful.”

You grabbed him around the waist, kissing his shoulder. “You sure are sweetie,” you said sarcastically, earning a laugh from Courtney.

Scott excused himself, leaving you and Courtney to chat. She was nice and sweet and easy to talk to.  You immediately understood why she remained friends with the family when her and Chris broke up the first time. It was still odd in away to be friendly with your boyfriend’s ex, but if everyone else loved her, you needed to give it a shot. Boyfriend. That was another thing. Chris was your boyfriend. You really liked the sound of that.

It was close to seven and Scott was itching to take off. He wanted to order pizza and have a dance party. Zach was staying with Chris for the night so the two of you could have that sleep over. You both had great boyfriends to put up with you. Confiscating Scott’s keys earlier in the day, you went in search of Chris to tell him goodbye.

You found Chris with a few of his friends you had met early in the day along with Courtney standing on the patio outside. Chris was telling a story, animated as ever. His arms flailing about, head tipped back as he laughed at his own joke. You stood back to admire him as he had the group enthralled with whatever tale he was telling. Courtney stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his middle. It seemed innocent at first until she placed a hand on his sweater clad chest, hand trailing lightly. Chris looked down at her hand and then to her face, neither of them noticing you had stepped outside. He lifted her hand from his chest, much to her surprise, and then stepped out of her embrace. “I have a girlfriend,” he said softly, but you still heard it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Courtney quickly replied.

You wanted to escape without being seen. It definitely felt like a moment you weren’t meant to witness even though you were happy with the outcome. You were mere inches from the patio doors when Scott popped out, calling out your name drawing the attention of the group standing nearby.

“Hey sweetheart,” Chris said, leaving the group and walking up to you, kissing your temple to greet you. You wrapped an arm around his middle and leaned into him. “Are you taking off?”

“M’hmm,” you replied. “Just coming to say goodnight.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“Hey, Y/N? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Courtney asked. You turned around to see a small frown on her face.

You nodded your head. “Sure.” You squeezed Chris’ hand. “I’ll see you inside,” you said to him.

Courtney followed you further into the backyard, taking a seat on a small bench.

“I’m not sure what you may have seen, but I wanted to apologize. I had my arms around Chris and If I had known he was with someone, I wouldn’t have been as handsy as I just was. That’s not me and I don’t want you to get that impression of me. M’sorry and I hope that you can accept my apology.”

Scott had not introduced you to Courtney as Chris’ girlfriend, so you did believe that she didn’t know and she did seem sincere. You didn’t want things to be weird, especially if you did end up moving here at some point.

“Already forgotten. I’d like for us to be friends, so no hard feelings,” you replied.

“Thank you,” she said, giving you a soft smile.

Both of you stood up, you walking back into the house and Courtney staying outside. Chris intertwined your hand with his, walking both of you out the front door to Scott’s car. He pulled you into a rocking hug, before pulling back, placing both palms on your cheeks and kissing you deeply.

“I’ll see you Monday for our day one of three?” he asked with a grin.

“I’d like that.” You kissed him again before climbing into the driver’s seat of the car. Scott already asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, Scott,” you said, shaking your head. He was lucky his car had GPS and you had his address.

Chapter 14

**

Tag list: @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @southerngracela @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @hista-girl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @chrisevansfanfic @lakamaa12 @thinkxlovexloud​ @deidrashouseofpain​ @nea90sweetie​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @ripvandrinkle​ @bitterstar88​ @andymi3ntus​ @zestygingergirl​ @xstudiousslytherinx​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @cocomel0613​ @onceuponathreetwoone​ @supraveng​ @michelehansel​ @fanfictionaffair​ @genesgoingtohamslam​ @agirlcanstilldream​ @what-is-your-plan-today​ @jessyballet​ @capstopavenger​ @wiczer​ @titty-teetee​ @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​ @panicfob​ @patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @linki-locks11​ @mywinterwolf​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989​ @impalaimages​ @jesseswartzwelder​ @rainbowkisses31​ @xostephanie​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @xxloki81xx​ @thenormreedus​ @firstangeldragonranch​ @soitmightgetweird​ @maeleeme​ @denisemarieangelina​ @rvgrsbrns​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @velvetwonderbucky​ @kitkat1690​ @smilexcaptainx​ @suppu97​

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 4/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Without going into too much detail, I’m moving to a twice-a-week posting schedule. Mental health and mental illness are truly fickle things. This is the only way I can control mine right now. If I’d had my way, I would’ve posted the rest of the story in one go and taken a few months away from all social media. This was the proposed solution. Thank you for all the support and love over the last five years. It’s been my favorite adventure, so far. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 4: Middle of the Road

October 25: Friday 

Friday is another night out at the Rabbit Hole, and for once Killian is there before her instead of the other way around. He’s in the middle of some animated story about lobsters, much to the amusement of those in attendance judging by their rapt expressions. There are two seats open at the table. One is the safe option, across from Killian and next to David. Or the other option is to sit at the head of this cacophony of tables and next to Killian directly. 

His gaze flicks over to her, as if he senses her thoughts, and as the story wraps up to the raucous laughter of their whole group, he puts on a satisfied little smile and lifts his hand in greeting. 

It looks as though he’s gotten the approval of both Snow and David, so that’s a mark in the right column. 

When her drink is set down in front of her, she wanders over, making a split second decision to sit at the head of the table. 

“Seems like I missed the best part of the evening,” she says as she settles in beside him.

“Long story short, the lobsters won the battle,” Killian tells her, smiling and sipping from the bottle in front of him. “How was your day at work, Swan?”

“David hit a new record in computer freeze-ups, so it was a little long.”

“It’s not my fault the computers are still running Windows 95,” David argues, his scowl not directed at Emma but at the ancient technology they’re currently running in the station. 

“And it’s not my fault you just decided this year that you wanted to start digitizing the last fifty years of records we have,” Emma retorts, losing the battle with herself and sticking her tongue out at David when he does the same to her. “Also, I would definitely argue that it is your fault that our equipment is so damn old.”

“Have you spoken to Regina about upgrade budgets?” This comes from the other end of the table, where Robin is seated, and almost every head swivels to look at him. “Ah, that’s right. You’re all terrified of my fiance. How silly of me to forget.” The blase tone has no offense to it; Robin is simply used to the stunned silence he gets at the obvious suggestion of asking Mayor Mills for budget increases in certain departments. It’s no big deal to him, the guy dating her, because one day he walked into her office to talk to her about a playground rebuild and suddenly they were seen everywhere.

Of course, back then, everywhere they were seen included heavy amounts of arguing. Then, suddenly, one day they were everywhere and making out. So that was an interesting development for a sleepy little town. 

“You know, I forgot that since she started dating you she’s been much easier to talk to,” Emma mentions. “Maybe I’ll schedule an appointment with her and ask about getting some upgrades in the station.”

“It’s best that you do this one on your own. She’s still mad at me for dragging a pack of dogs through those daffodils she had in front of Town Hall,” David admits.

“Only a little, mate,” Robin adds, winking when David looks at him. 

“Isn’t it rather handy to have the expat club around, love?” Killian nudges her with his elbow when he says it, grinning wide when she makes eye contact.

“It’s not so bad, I guess,” she responds with her own smile back. 

After a couple hours, the length of the day starts to weigh on her and she can feel her eyes drooping shut even with the group still in full swing. 

“Okay, I’m calling it a night,” she announces to their side of the table. 

“I’ll walk with you, Swan, if you’ll allow me. I’m at the end of my night, as well.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to dismiss him, but Snow catches her eye and gives her one of her meaningful looks. She gives one of her own back, indicating that yeah, fine, okay she gets the message.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she says lamely, instead of whatever objection had been waiting.

Outside, they both take a moment to adjust to the quiet and the wind, with Emma pulling out her beanie and pulling it on snugly.

“I need to remember my own,” Killian says, indicating the hat on her head. “You’d think I would be better suited for cold weather given the track record of my home country.”

“After I moved back it was a struggle to get used to the temperatures again,” Emma admits.

“Moved back?”

“From Florida. I spent three years down there,” she says, leaving out all the rest of the story on purpose. But the answer seems to suit Killian just fine. 

“I never officially lived anywhere else until I moved here,” he tells her as they walk down the street. “Visited a lot of places in the Navy, but official, permanent addresses were all in the same town.”

“The Navy, huh?”

“Aye. One day you’ll get to hear all about my sordid but charming history,” he says, a teasing note to the words. 

It’s so easy, walking the short distance with him. She almost tells him she can take the rest alone when they hit their corner but she resists, instead leading him again along the path to her building. He stops when she does, still standing a respectable distance away. 

“Thanks for walking with me,” she says quietly. In truth, she wants to ask him up for a cup of coffee or something, but she can’t remember the last time she’s had a man in her home and now doesn’t feel like a good time to try when it’s getting late and she wasn’t lying about how tired she is.

“Always a pleasure. Goodnight.”

She responds in kind, itching like she did that first time he walked her home to reach out, to have some form of physical signature to end the evening. 

He’s just turning away when she moves again, grabbing his arm and going for a quick kiss on his cheek but he turns and the peck ends landing right on the corner of his mouth. Rather than sink into the comforting embrace of awkwardness, she stands her ground against the urge to run.

“Thank you again,” he tells him.

“For what?”

“Everything. Walking me home. Understanding. Not pushing me. I’m trying to get on the same level, and I wanted you to know that.” 

“All at your own pace, Swan. Goodnight,” he says again, his smile tinged with peace.

She makes sure to give him one last wave and smile when she gets to the door, liking the way this night ended much more than the last time he walked her home. 

-x- October 30: Wednesday

While Storybrooke is a small town, it doesn’t mean Mayor Mills has an abundance of time. As such, Emma can’t get an appointment until Wednesday. It’s something to break up the monotony of the day, however, so she doesn’t mind. Right before lunch time, she heads to the stately office building and waits her turn behind various townspeople requests.

It’s such a simple meeting, with professional courtesies and barely any spare chatting or gossip. Regina’s never really been the type, even before she got together with Robin. While he’s certainly made her more approachable, the meeting is still over about ten minutes after it begins, and Emma comes away from it with more than she anticipated.

Armed with her upgrades budget and a wishlist a mile long, Emma heads outside and starts walking back to the station. Across the street is NeverEndings and she slows down a bit, weighing the decision to go in. Ultimately, the idea of surprising Killian and maybe asking him if he wants to grab lunch with her is what sends her crossing, pulling open the heavy wooden door and rushing into the reception area. 

The last couple days have been really nice with him. They walk together in the mornings, and sometimes she loops her arm through his while they cross the street. She has snuck him two kisses outside of the library so that Granny doesn’t see it when he leaves her at the front of the diner. 

And today, she didn’t even have to stop at the diner. Instead, Killian was waiting at their corner with a second mug of coffee. The least she can do is give him his afternoon caffeine fix. 

It turns out the office building is a little more active during the day compared to when she brought him his dinner. She stands there in shock for a moment, remembering that there are people that work here that aren’t Killian, or Will, or Robin, and trying to decide if this really was a good idea. 

She’s just about to turn around and head out again when the secretary, a woman named Anna, calls out to her. 

“It’s nice to see you, Emma! It’s been too long! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Um, I’m actually here to see Killian? Killian Jones?”

“He’s in his office. Do you need me to take you back?”

“No, thanks. I know the way. Thanks Anna.”

It looks like Anna is about to launch into something else to say - the woman has a penchant for talking far too much but is one of the nicest people she’s ever met - but Emma moves quickly beyond the desk and back towards the office she knows. 

She weaves her way through the halls again, finding Killian’s door wide open this time. He’s not alone, however, and she startles when she sees a young teenager sitting in the chair across from Killian’s desk. Like he can sense she’s there, the man in question glances away from his computer screen and makes eye contact with her. 

“Ah, Swan! Good afternoon. Henry, just give me one moment,” he tells the young man in the chair, starting to rise from his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t -” 

The boy turns then, curious brown eyes landing on her, so familiar that it steals all the breath in her lungs momentarily. Even his hair looks the same color as Neal’s. 

“I didn’t know you were busy. Never mind,” she says quickly, turning from the door and all but running back out through the front doors before Killian even has a chance to finish standing up.

“Emma?” 

His voice follows her down the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even stop to consider what this may look like to him. The only thing she’s concerned with is getting away from the memories she wishes she could forget. 

Her feet take her to Granny’s - something about this place is the heart of Storybrooke and so everyone always ends up here one way or another - but it’s mostly a trip for comfort rather than necessity this time.

In that regard, the proprietress must sense her needs, because she’s handing over a bear claw fresh from the fryer while Emma waits for her usual lunch to cook. Directly after, a mug of hot cocoa is placed in front of her, cinnamon already sprinkled over the whipped cream. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Same as always,” Granny says without slowing down in her movements behind the counter. “Dessert’s on me. The hot chocolate is from that one over there.”

Emma glances to where she’s pointing, expecting to see David or Ruby or anyone besides Will settling into a booth along the windows. He raises his own mug and turns back to his conversation with Belle, but she has a feeling that’s not the end of the moment just yet. 

She’s halfway through pushing her lunch around her plate when Will wanders over and props against the counter where she’s seated. 

“Did she put the rum in it like I asked?” he asks, pointing to the mug in her hands. Suddenly, she wonders if there was a different tang to the usual comfort today but Will’s smile is one she recognizes. “Only joking, lass. I know you’re on the clock. But surely you could’ve used it with the way you looked when you ran from the office.”

“You saw that?” She wants to cringe, to run away and hide again, but Will isn’t judging her so it’s not the end of the world. 

“Sped right past me as I was on my way back to Killian’s office. You know him and I go way back?”

“I thought you just met when he moved here.”

“Hardly. Met right before he joined the Navy through some literary club thing he was in. He was interning at the London branch when this position opened up and I told Robin to hire him and stop having all those brains wasted on fetching coffee and being a gopher.”

“Leaving England for a junior editor position had to be a big decision. Why would he come all this way for a spot he probably would’ve gotten if he stuck it out over there?”

“That’s all his story to tell you. But there is something I’ll tell you about Killian,” Will starts, and Emma won’t lie and say her heart doesn’t stutter at the words. She’s expecting the worst, as always, but she nods at him to continue.

“He hasn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Had his heart broken clean in two. If I’m not mistaken, that’s something the two of you have in common,” he says gently. There’s something about the way he says it. This is a level of friendship they’ve never crossed, preferring witty banter and faked hatred to show their friendly affection for each other instead.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re telling me this?” Emma asks.

“No. Probably tell me to mind me own bloody business. But it’s funny. About a month and a half ago he started smiling the way he did, before life got to him.” He gives her a look at that, before Belle is back by his side. Her fingers link with his like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it, and the sight makes something in Emma’s stomach clench with want. 

They turn to leave her, but Emma calls back to Will before he gets too far.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to be too mean to you from now on,” she says.

“Bollocks! That’s half the fun of it!” he exclaims, grinning ear to ear and turning around as Emma laughs. 

She doesn’t particularly want to return to the station but knows she should go back to work. The rest of her day is spent intently focusing on the files she’s copying. When David leaves for the day, she tells him to go on ahead. If he’s worried, he knows better than to push for information right now, which works just fine for her. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

When the last file of her stack is completed, she finally shuts everything down, looking up to find Mulan kicked back at her desk and reading a book. 

“Never thought you’d give up,” the other woman mutters without looking away. “Go home. David delivered food to your apartment over an hour ago.”

“I’m going. But not because you told me to,” Emma points out. She stands, bending and twisting and stretching until all the pops and cracks from her back have helped ease some of the pain she feels. 

With more amiable separating words from both of them, Emma finally leaves Mulan to take over the next shift, knowing that Phillip will probably be in after his aptly named son, Phillip, is put to bed for the evening. Her walk home is trudging, at best. Even knowing that David dropped off food for her isn’t helping pick up her feet any. 

The shock of seeing a kid look that much like Neal is enough to sour a whole day, if not the whole rest of the week. 

It’s not just that Neal left her, and that he left in the middle of the night while she slept, but that he did it because he thought Emma was pregnant. There was no indication that she even was. She had a stomach bug, three days of her head in the toilet which was preceded by her mentioning she had a craving for Granny’s grilled cheese sandwiches and a chocolate milkshake from back home.

Not even bothering to do the math or ask about her cycle, he just assumed that the cravings and the vomiting meant she was pregnant. They’d had sex once. For roughly thirty seconds until he complained that she was too tight and he pulled out. And he’d been wearing a condom. 

The anger of it starts fueling her into moving again, and she almost rushes right past Granny’s when she hears the calling of her name. 

“Evening, Swan!” Killian greets her from where he’s kicked back in one of the chairs on the patio, even though it’s far too cold to be sitting out here like that.

She waves, something jerky and unsure, and keeps moving along. She had no intentions of waltzing into his office and then fleeing like it was the scene of a crime this morning, and it’s mostly embarrassment that has her feet moving quicker. 

“Come on, Swan. Don’t make a man drink alone.”

“Not in the mood for a drink. Or a man,” she says, half-zoned out and just wanting to get home to try to process the rest of her emotions. 

“Emma, sweetheart?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice, and when she doesn’t slow down he gets up from the chair he was in and moves after her. “Wait a moment, Swan. What’s happened? What did I do between this morning and when you stopped by my office?” 

The fact that he thinks it’s his fault is what has her slowing minimally and letting him catch her around the forearm with his prosthetic hook. He uses that momentum to coax her to turn around, and the look on his face is finally what makes her cave. He doesn’t deserve the brunt of her fuckery. He’s been so patient through everything else, and while any other man in her life would’ve probably run at her first change of heart, this one has stood nearby with no pressure, no conditions asked. She fights through that heavy feeling in her chest, past the lump in her throat, so she can maybe even try to explain what happened. 

“It’s not you. I just… was reminded of my past and why I’m not good at this kind of thing.

“You’ve got to trust that I have no ill intentions here.”

“You think this is because I don’t trust you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course I trust you. But it doesn’t change the fact that everyone I’ve ever been with has left me behind.” It’s probably the first time Emma has ever admitted any of this out loud, and suddenly what she thought was just a slight case of emotions feels a lot more like a boulder sitting in her stomach. For the tiniest moment, she’s afraid she’ll start crying. Her voice is almost garbled when she speaks again, fighting past the emotions welling up. “Neal, Graham… even Walsh. They left me in one way or another.” He doesn’t know them yet, doesn’t know what they did, but letting their names out into the open takes away some of their power.

Moving just a bit closer, Killian holds eye contact with her, probably just as much for him as for her. “Well, love. You don’t have to worry about me. I may leave this area on occasions, but I’ve no intention of leaving you unless you tell me to.”

It could just be an empty promise, but coming from Killian it sounds like a genuine one. She nods, just a fraction of her chin tilting down, to show him she understands. He moves forward the rest of the way, his intent clear without being overpowering. And then he’s kissing her, his arm coming snugly around her waist. 

It’s different from their first kiss and the small affectionate gestures they’ve shared recently. There’s something more than intention behind it and without the spontaneous factor involved, it’s calmer if not less intense. It doesn’t occur to her to be ashamed that they are standing in the middle of the street because how can she care about anything else when Killian is doing his best to remind her what human connection feels like with each subsequent press of his lips? 

This is enough for now, the start of a new routine for them. She always just assumed he was some nerdy dude with an office job, but really, Killian is like twenty things all wrapped into one and she’s discovering she’s eager to uncover each layer of him one at a time. 

With that thought, her final hang-ups fall away and she surrenders instead to the warm lips attached to the man that has changed her mind about dating. She thinks to tell him that, but then he’s shifting, his hand sliding into her hair as his left arm pulls her closer and then she’s all but crawling into his jacket. He’s warm, chasing away the chill she’s felt not just because of the temperatures but because of the hole she let herself sink into earlier. Chest to chest, she can feel the sound that rumbles through him when she wraps her arms around his waist. 

There’s a part of her that wants to know, desperately, why she was resisting this - resisting him, but she knows there’s still miles to go before all the dark spots fall away from her memories. This is a good start, though. It’s just them, figuring things out and also making out like they’re a couple of teenagers.

“There are better places to do that than the middle of the road.” It’s Granny’s voice that springs them apart. 

“Seriously?!” Emma says, looking over Killian’s shoulder at the older woman. 

Granny just gives her one of her patented looks and goes back inside, leaving them alone again.

“Would it be all right if I walked you home?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Emma answers, taking his hand as they start heading that way. “Are you dressing up for Halloween tomorrow?”

“Aye. Quite the get-up I’ve got, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hums his agreement, but not saying anything more about it. “How about you, love? What have you cooked up for a costume?”

“I don’t normally dress up,” Emma admits. “But I think I can pull something together easily enough.” Even as she says it, she’s thinking of the parts of a suit she has at home. Surely she can pull that off with a couple accessories, right? It’s too good of an idea not to try, and so even though she's sad to say goodnight to Killian after the moment they’ve just had, she’s also excited to get inside and go tearing through her closet.

She makes sure to thoroughly kiss him goodnight before she does, however.

-x-

Chapter 5

[secretsantasides]

Gift #14: Colorblind

Gift for @forestwulf​

Prompt: Intrulogical Soulmate AU.

        Logan massaged his temples as the nightclub music pounded in his ears, “I don’t know why you insist on coming here.”

        “It’s twinks drink free night,” Patton said, sipping his appletini.

        “You stopped being a twink ten years ago,” Logan muttered.

        Patton sighed, “I’m going to ignore that because you’re my brother and I love you. Speaking of love-”

        “Don’t,” Logan said. “Not this again.”

        “Listen to me,” Patton said. “I’m worried about you, Logan. I know you’re a little robot and you don’t need romance in your life or any friends but-”

        “I have friends,” Logan said.

        “But,” Patton said. “You’re thirty years old and it’s starting to make mom sad on the holidays. When I met Ethan, it wasn’t sitting around at home and moping. I mean how long has it been since you were touched by another human being?”

        “Soulmates,” Logan sighed. “Don’t start, Pat. I’ll gouge my eye out with this tiny umbrella.”

         Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

         “I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

         Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

         “There is no however.”

         ”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

         “I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

         “Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

         “Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

         Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

         “Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

         Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

         “Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

         “I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

         “Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

         Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

         And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

         Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

          Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

         Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

         “Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

         “The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

         “Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

         “Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

         “Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

         “Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

         Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

                   Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

         Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

         Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

                           “Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

         “Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

         Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

         “Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

         “Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

         Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

         “Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

         “Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

         Remus hesitated, “I  mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

         Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

         Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

         “Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

         “You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

         Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

         “Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

         “Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

         Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

         Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

         Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

         “Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

         “Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

         Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

          Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

         The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

         “Hey Logan! What’s up?”

         “Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

         “Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

         “No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

         “You? I don’t believe it.”

         Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

         “Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

         “When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

         “Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

         “Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

         “Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

         “Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

         “Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

         “One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

         “Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

         Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

         “Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

         “Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

         Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

          The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

         Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.  

          Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

         “Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

         “What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

         Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

         “Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

         “Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

         He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

         “It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

         Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

         Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

         Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

         Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

         Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

         Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

         “Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

         Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

         Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

         “I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

         “Hot?”

         “Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

         “Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

         “Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

         Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

         “Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

         Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

         Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

         “Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

         “Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

         “No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

         Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

         It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

[ificanthaveu]

NYE, You and Me || Shawn Mendes

Description: It’s New Years and you’re alone in Toronto. Someone might just come along and change that. 

A/N: DAY 8 (i keep forgetting to say the day ope) I’ll be in FLORIDA for New Years so my experience will be opposite of this BUT this is cute and shit and I want this to happen to me ok ok and she’s early tonight bc I gotta go see my bb boy Chris Evans in Knives Out :)

Word Count: 3.1k

12 Days of Ficmas

Maybe catching a flight the day before New Year’s Eve to avoid seeing your high school friends at bars around your small hometown wasn’t your best idea ever.

Especially since you were flying to Canada.

A flight to Toronto was one of the last ones available in such short notice, so you decided Toronto was going to be where you spent the beginning of the new year. 

Your flight had been delayed twice, and then you had to stay over in a hotel for a night before finally leaving the next morning. 

You were exhausted. This wasn’t how New Year’s Eve was supposed to be. 

You booked the last Airbnb left in the city, a small cottage on the outside of Toronto. It only had two bedrooms, but it was just you, so it didn’t really matter. 

You sat down on the couch in the small living room and pulled out your laptop, hoping to find somewhere to spend your night to ring in the new year. 

The more you looked at bars, the less appealing they seemed. You’d be fine with a drink or two, but getting drunk sounded like even more of a nightmare after the night you just had. 

You decided you’d just walk around the city for a little bit and hope to see a sign advertising an event for the new year. 

You started down the sidewalk with your face buried in your scarf as you pulled up a map on your phone to get an idea of where you were going. 

You heard laughter to your right, and you turned to see what it was. 

You were met with one of the prettiest parks you’d ever seen. There was a sledding hill in the back, trees lining the edge with lights, multiple gazebos and a small playground. 

You smiled at the sight and walked forward to wander the area. It looked like they were setting up for something.

You were proven right once you saw a sign on top of one of the gazebo’s adverting “New Year in the Park” starting at 8:00 that night. You didn’t think you’d find something so soon, but this seemed perfect. 

You walked back to the cottage and pulled out some warmer clothes to wear that night before finding a place to order dinner from. The only place that delivered to where you were was Chinese, so you ordered your meal and waited. 

You scrolled through your phone at all the posts of people excited to be home. You rolled your eyes at any post talking about missing school and the friends they made. 

You were glad you left before you had to run into any of them.

Before you could get angry about it again, the doorbell rang, and you answered the door to get your food. You sat at the island in the kitchen and watched whatever was on the TV as you ate. 

Your cottage was a few blocks down from the park, and you were shocked to see cars parking by your house and walking towards it around 8:00. Maybe this was a bigger thing than you thought. 

You pulled on a pair of leggings with a pair of jeans over them and laired on a long sleeve, a sweater and your winter coat. You pulled on a hat and mittens and wrapped your scarf around your neck. You grabbed the keys, your phone, and your wallet and started your walk to the park. 

You couldn’t help but gasp as you walked up to it. There were booths everywhere selling every type of food or drink. Music was booming, and there was even a small ball ready to drop at midnight. Kids, grandparents and everyone in-between had something to do. 

It was perfect. It was just what you needed. 

You started down the path lined with the booths, looking at each one and trying to decide what to get to drink. You settled on a peppermint mocha and continued walking. 

You found a light-walk around the corner and started to wander through it as you drank your mocha. You stopped at a bench and sat down for a moment, watching a set of lights that were timed to the music. 

People walked past you, some smiling at you and some giving you confused looks, but you didn’t mind. 

You weren’t paying attention until someone sat right next to you. You looked over and saw a tall man with a mop of brown curls, cuddled up in a scarf and winter coat. 

“It’s fucking freezing,” he mumbled as he looked at you out of the side of his eyes. 

“Welcome to Canada, I guess,” you said with a smile. 

He looked at the lights for a moment before turning back to you. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” He asked.

You shook your head slowly before saying, “Nope, just me.”

“Spending New Year’s Eve alone?” He said with a shocked tone to his voice. “Why?”

“Long story,” you said quietly. 

He glanced down at his watch before back up to you. “We still have three hours until midnight. I have time.”

“Aren’t you here with someone?” You asked. 

“Yeah, my family is up there,” he said, pointing forward to three people walking away. “But I needed a minute away from them.”

“I get that,” you said with a nod.

“So, are you from here?” He said. 

“No, I’m from the states,” you said, looking at him. 

“Why Canada?” He said with a scratch of his nose. 

“To be honest, it was one of the last flights left to book when I was looking for a place to go 2 days ago,” you explained. 

“So why were you trying to get away?” He pried. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you countered. 

“Shawn,” he paused. “Now answer the question.”

“My name’s [Y/N]. Thanks for asking,” you deflected. 

“The beauty of this, [Y/N], is that we don’t know each other. So you can tell me why you’re here, and it’ll be no difference to me,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

“After high school, I stayed in my home town,” you started. “I worked as a manager at a store in the mall because college just wasn’t going to be for me. It still isn’t for me. I love my job, but I went to a private high school. People are judgy. College is expected. Any time I run into someone from my high school, it’s the same shit. ‘When are you going to college?’ ‘You’re still working there?’ ‘Why don’t you move?’ If I would’ve stayed there, I would’ve gone insane.”

“College isn’t for everyone,” he said simply. 

“You’re preaching to the choir. I wish they’d get out of that mindset, though. I used to be really good friends with a lot of them, but I just can’t take the criticism,” you said. 

“Do you like what you’re doing?” He asked. 

“I love it,” you said with a smile. 

“What about your family? Couldn’t spend tonight with them?” He asked further. 

“Well, I’m an only child, and my parents got married on New Year’s. So they go on an anniversary trip every year,” you said. 

“Yikes,” he said under his breath. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind it. I moved out a while ago anyway,” you said. 

He nodded his head and went quiet. 

“What about your family?” You asked as you motioned to where they were moments ago. 

“Well, I’m kind of all over the place right now. I travel a ton for my job, so I don’t see them a lot. I’ve been back for around two weeks, and I’ve been with them for every minute of that. I love them to death, but I can never be with anyone for that long,” he explained. 

“You’re from Canada?”

“Born and raised.”

“So, when you said that you’re ‘all over the place,’ what does that entail?” You questioned. 

“Name a place, I’ve probably been there,” he said as he looked at you. 

“Wow,” you mumbled under your breath. 

“Yeah, pretty cool, also pretty exhausting,” he said with a quiet laugh. 

“What’s your next destination?” 

“I believe I go to Chicago?” He said with hesitation as he squinted.

“You don’t know?” You asked with a laugh. 

“It could also be New York. It’s probably New York,” he said with a little more confidence. 

“Are you sure about that?” You tested. 

He rolled his eyes at you, “I’ve known you for twenty minutes, and I already regret sitting here.”

You ignore his remark and continue to ask him questions, “Do you live here then? Or do you live in some city you don’t know?”

“I kind of live here,” he said. 

“Kind of?”

“Kind of.”

“So what’s the other place, if this one is kind of?”

“LA,” he said softly. “Kind of the hub for what I do.”

“Which is?” You asked. 

“Which is what?” He asked. 

“What do you do?” you asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing much. I sing sometimes.”

“Sing anything I know?” You asked jokingly. 

“Probably not,” he said, looking at you with a smile and admiration. 

“So not a good singer then?” You asked. 

He feigned offense as his hand went to his chest, and his jaw dropped open. You couldn’t contain the giggle that slipped from your lips. 

“That hurt!” He exclaimed. 

“Well…” you trailed off. “If you were good, I’d hear you on the radio.”

“Maybe you have, and you just don’t realize it and I’m lying to you,” he said. 

You narrowed your eyes at him before shaking your head, “Nah, I trust you.”

“You trust me?” He said with a laugh. “You didn’t even know I existed thirty minutes ago.”

“You just have this presence about you,” you said with a shrug. “Can’t describe it.”

He smiled at you and nodded as a small blush crept onto his cheeks. 

“Thanks. That actually means a lot,” he said with that same smile you didn’t plan on getting sick of. 

“Want to walk the rest of the path?” You said as you pointed forward. 

He nodded his head, and the two of you stood up and started to walk. 

You forgot he was even there as you admired the lights once again. You walked through a tunnel of lights and slowly spun around, as Shawn stood back and watched you.

“This is amazing,” you whispered. 

“This is my favorite part,” he said in response. 

“I feel like I’m in a dream,” you said as you continued to walk forward and Shawn followed you. 

His hand bumped against yours, and at first, you ignored it. Until it happened again, and you let him hold your mittened hand in his. 

You both continued walking, your hands swaying gently as you both looked opposite ways. 

“Hey, look,” he said softly. 

You turned to look at what he was pointing towards. There was a house a little ways back with Santa sitting on top of it. 

“He’s always watching,” Shawn whispered. 

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm as he laughed. 

“Christmas was over a week ago,” you said. 

“But he watches year-round. Better be nice to me,” Shawn taunted. 

You tugged him forward as you continued to finish the walk through the lights. Eventually, you made your way to the exit and threw your cup in the trash. You expected Shawn to want to find his family. 

“We still have an hour until the ball drops. Want to go sledding?” He said with a big smile. 

“Aren’t you here with your family?” You reminded him. 

He shrugged his shoulders before pulling you towards the hill. 

“They probably won’t even notice I’m gone. They’re used to it.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know, but I want to sled.”

You slowly made the treck up the steep hill with him. He insisted you walk in front of him, so he could catch you if you slipped. He was slipping more than you were. 

You stopped for a moment and looked back at him to see him on his hands and knees. You rested your hands on your hips and waited for him to look at you. 

“Another thing I’ve learned about you, stranger. You’re clumsy as hell,” you said. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he stood up and gently pushed you forward. 

You finally made it to the top of the hill, and Shawn went to go grab your tubes. 

“There was only one left,” Shawn said slowly as he approached you. “Guess we have to share,” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 

Shawn set the tube down and sat down first before motioning for you to sit in his lap. You hesitated before sitting on his lap and laughing. 

‘We’re going to fall off,” you said. 

He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Hold on to the handles, and we’ll be fine,” he said as you felt his breath against your neck. 

You rested your head back on his chest as he pushed you forward slowly. 

You squealed as you heard Shawn laugh in your ear as your tube sped down the hill. His grip tightened around your waist as you picked up speed. 

You slowed to a stop at the bottom, you and Shawn still laughing as you stayed sitting in the tube. You finally calmed down after a few moments. 

You went to stand up, but his arm didn’t move. You tapped it a few times, but he just tightened his grip. 

“You’re warm,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“If you let go of me, we can go down the hill one more time before we have to find a spot to watch the ball drop,” you whispered. 

That sold him as he loosened his grip on you and allowed you to stand up. He handed the tube off to one of the employees and followed you back up the hill. He loosely held onto your hips as you climbed up, claiming it’d help him stay upright. 

It didn’t.

You eventually made it to the top of the hill and went to grab a tube. 

“You riding again with me?” Shawn asked as he threw an arm around your shoulder. 

“Yeah, guess I will,” you sighed. 

He squeezed your shoulder before grabbing a tube. The two of you sat in the same position and were a fit of giggles once again as you raced down the hill. 

You lingered a minute again as the two of you just sat at the bottom of the hill in the tube. You finally stood up and helped him up with you, once again handing the tube off. 

Shawn held your hand again as you walked towards the center of the park. You had fifteen minutes left of this year. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” you told Shawn once you found a place to stand. 

He looked down at you and smiled, “Thank you for allowing me to.”

You shivered and crossed your arms across your chest. Shawn noticed and pulled you into his chest. You rested your head against the edge of his scarf and watched people start to make their way towards the center as well.

You took a moment to think about your night. You’d bet you’d never see Shawn again after this. He’d go home with his family, and you’d go back home. And that’d be it. 

“Ready?” Shawn whispered. “Five minutes.”

You separated yourself from him and glanced down at your phone, confirming the time. 

“Any last things to get done this year? It’s now or never,” he said as he shook your shoulders. 

You laughed and thought for a moment. 

“It was a good year,” you finally said. “I’m happy with it.”

“Are you happy with how you’re ending it?” Shawn asked hopefully.

You turned to face him head-on, looking up at him. 

“Yeah, I am.”

People around you started to count down from thirty as you and Shawn stayed still, staring at each other, just inches apart. 

You felt his gloved hand rest against your cheek. 

15 

14

13

“Can I kiss you?” He mumbled. 

12

11

10

“Of course,” you whispered. 

9

8

7

Shawn pressed his lips against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

6

5

4

You felt him smile against your lips as he held your hips tightly.

3

2

1

Everyone erupted into cheers as the clock struck midnight. But you didn’t care.

You felt like you were in your own world as you rested your forehead against Shawn’s. 

“Happy New Year,” you whispered. 

“Happy New Year,” he responded as he pulled you into his chest, and you watched the fireworks explode. 

People started to walk out after that. The wind was getting colder, and you were starting to wish you had worn another sweatshirt underneath your coat. 

You and Shawn started to walk towards the edge of the park. 

“Where are you staying?” He asked as he turned towards you. 

“A little cottage down the road,” you said, motioning in that direction. 

He nodded his head before he said, “I should probably find my family.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For one of the best nights I’ve ever had.”

“Same to you,” you said as he started to back away. 

“See you around, [Y/N],” he said as he sent you one last wink before finding his family and walking away. 

The walk back was short, and you went right to bed, wrapping yourself up in numerous blankets and falling right to sleep.

You woke up at 6:00 for your 8:30 flight, throwing your things in a bag and calling a cab to come get you. 

You rested your head against the window, trying to convince yourself that last night was just some dream. 

The airport was dead as you breezed through security and found your gate. 

First flight back to Chicago of the new year. 

You found a seat near the front and scrolled through your phone. 

You felt someone sit next to you. 

“Guess I am going to Chicago,” the familiar voice said. 

You whipped your head around to see a grinning Shawn starting back at you. 

You let out a breathy laugh, “You’re a mystery, Shawn.”

He didn’t say anything and instead threw his arm around the back of your chair. 

“Think I can show you around my city since you were so welcoming in yours?” you said as you leaned your head against his arms. 

“Sounds perfect.”

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[knjnvrland]

Prank Wars - ch. 8

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 6.7k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut, angst

> warnings | swearing, alcohol consumption.

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone’s life as it is, why don’t we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | English is not my first language, I’m sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any!

CHAPTER 8 - New Year's

The end of year holidays went by fast. Alice and Yoongi went to her parent’s house for christmas, and the rest of the boys each went back to their homes, including you and your brothers. It was nice to spend a few days with your mother and having everyone home a few times a year was always motive for celebration.

It was a lot of food, some gatherings with family members you only encountered that time of year and a few good gifts amongst the terrible ones Jin and Taehyung gave you -Jin’s being kitchen supplies and Tae’s children's underwear, nudging to your most recent embarrassing moment provided by JK. Namjoon was the only brother who got it right, gifting you a couple books you were eager to read and new running shoes. Amongst all the celebrations, you barely stayed in touch with the rest of your friends, so you didn’t know that no one was excited about New Years when it was approaching.

Christmas with mom, New Year’s with dad. That’s how it always had been, ever since the separation. This year, however, your dad didn’t have plans to come home from America, instead planning a trip to Europe with his new family. The four of you, of course, were not invited. This didn’t came as a surprise, honestly, every year he would menage to royally screw up whatever it was that you planned. The crowning jewel was the year he flew everyone to Florida to spend the day at Disney but instead you commemorated the beginning of the new year stuck in traffic on the way there. He tried his best, you guessed, but it was never quite enough. 

This year he sent you your money-gifts, as always, and no explanation whatsoever about the change of plans. A couple of days before the 31st you and Joon heard your mother on the phone with him. She had planned a trip with a few of her other divorced friends to a spa near by, and would cancel it to spend the day with the four of you. You knew she would do so gladly, but it wasn’t fair, so you came up with something. You would tell her you made plans to take a trip to a ski lodge with your friends, and the four of you would just go back to university a few days sooner then you planned and spend the passage of the year together. She didn’t need to know and it didn’t really matter to you anyway, that date being wasted anyway.

So, on the 29th, the four of you, alongside Jimin who just wanted to scape earlier from his family’s infinite traditions, were driving back to campus on Jin’s old truck. Your mother had made enough food to last you until February and tried not to look excited that she didn’t have to cancel her plans, but you knew better.

She raised all of you, she deserved many years of quiet and relaxation for every few days spent all together. 

You went straight to the boy's place, as three of you lived there already and the rest not bothering going home at all, just crashing there for the next couple of days. What you didn’t expect, however, was to meet Hoseok as soon as you entered the apartment.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi was laying the couch shirtless browsing his phone with the heater all the way up and loud music blaring from the tv speakers.

“I can ask you the same?” Namjoon dropped his bag by the door and went to greet his friend.

“My sister had a job thing and didn’t go home, so I just came up with an excuse as well” he explained while doing a handshake with both Taehyung and Jimin, who took their places by the older boy.

“Families, right?” Jimin hummed, grabbing the control to turn down the volume “at least we won’t spend new year’s alone”

“Speak for yourself” you reappeared from the kitchen, where you were busy helping Jin put the food away “I just want some peace and quiet, change of plans: I’m going back to the dorms” you were just about to grab your bag when Tae stood up and ran towards you, hugging your back and lifting you up to turn you to face the other way.

“No no no, sis, you have to stay here” he wouldn’t let go of you and you hated to admit that Jin dragging his ass to the gym must have started to have some effect “it’s been too long since we had some quality family time”

“I just spent an entire week with you!” You protested, still trying to set yourself free “and I literally see you guys everyday!”

“Please, y/n-ah” Jimin pleaded from his place on the sofa. You rolled your eyes and stopped struggling.

“Fine.” You huffed “but if I’m left to do the dishes alone I’m a hundred per cent not talking to any of you until classes start” Tae letted you go and you dropped back your bag, walking to sit in the middle of Hoseok and Jimin on the couch.

“Nice, now that we’re settled, what should we do?” Namjoon was way too excited for this.

The next day you woke up with loud talking in the living room, and amongst the voices you were hearing, there were a few you were not expecting.

You took a look around Namjoon’s room and saw that he was nowhere near, probably letting you sleep late since you were the last one to fall asleep last night, staying up with Taehyung like when you were teens. You were about to fall asleep on the couch when Namjoon woke up to go to the bathroom and told you to lay on his bed, and you fell asleep playing with his fingers like you always did when you were a kid in need of your older brother's protection against a monster under the bed. And now you could smell Jin’s pancakes, the one’s with cinnamon and butter he did on special no-school days and had you already in a great mood. This was already the best end of the year you had had in a long time.

You could tell, as soon as you left the warmth of the bed, that the day was specially cold, and when you opened the curtains you were surprised with the sight of snow falling down. You ran out of the room to let your current house mates know and was greeted by everyone, including Yoongi, Alice and Jungkook, all gathered in the living room looking outside at the snow filled balcony.

“Maybe if I’m fast it won’t make that big of a mess” Namjoon thought out loud.

“You always make a mess” Yoongi stated, hugging Alice closer to him.

“but I have to get them!” Your brother pointed at his plants, all slowly being covered by the frosty weather.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” Jimin was the first no notice you “I’m glad to see you awake” he came your way and you instinctively opened your arms to be embraced by him.

“What's going on?” You let go of him to go and hug Alice and Yoongi, staying in the middle of the two and just nodding Jungkook’s way, acknowledging his presence. 

“We’re stuck here.” Tae was the one who answered you. He was sitting on the floor, distracted drawing faces in the fogged up window.

“What?” You turned to Namjoon and Jin, hoping for a better explanation, but it was Yoongi who answered.

“We got snowed in, the news are warning people to get out of the roads and stay in” you looked at him and he shook his shoulders as if saying ‘what can we do?’

“But what are you doing here” you pointed between the couple and a second later pointed towards Jungkook as well.

“We were just passing by to go to Yoongi’s for the rest of the break” Alice explained “the warnings began when we were close to town, so we just decided to stop here. The boy’s place was closer so we called Hobi to ask him if we could crash here a couple hours” Alice winked at your friend who agreed with his head “and as soon as we got here it got worse and now we’re stuck.” She finished, but then pointed at Jungkook “i don’t know what he’s doing here.”

“He came by earlier” Jin pointed out, coming back with a couple of cups of warm coffee, handing one to you, which you took gladly “he never left town” Jungkook gave a nod, confirming the eldest story, but didn’t add anything, instead nudging Taehyung in front of him to get up and go with him to the kitchen.

You caught Jin and Yoongi sharing a look as soon as the youngest boys left, but it didn’t last long “it’s going to be crowded, but we can menage” your brother stated, and motioned everyone to go to the kitchen as well “breakfast is ready, who’s hungry?”

The second to last day of the year was spent with a lot of chatter and bickering. Your brother’s apartment was big enough for your weekly get togethers, but once all of you had to share the space for more then a couple of hours it got chaotic. Jin would be yelling at someone every couple of minutes about something, and him, Alice and Yoongi ended up stuck at the kitchen for almost the entire day, heating up food or cooking some more for the rest. You and Hoseok would help by every now and then but, admittedly, not in a significant way. The maknaes tried to help out filling up a couple of air mattresses Taehyung had -why he had them no one knew, but after that they did pretty much nothing. Namjoon managed to grab his smallest plants from the balcony and, of course, made a mess as expected, so a good hour of your afternoon was spent cleaning up after him. But after everything, all of you gathered on the floor around the coffee table to eat dinner as the makeshift family you were.

“Can you pass me the ketchup?” Hoseok pointed at the bottle next to you and you grabbed it to give it to him, but Jimin was faster and took it from you “hey!” The older boy complained, but to no avail, as the sauce was then passed to everyone on the table first before getting to him “you’re idiots” he said, when it finally got to him.

“We should play a game later” Alice suggested.

“No thanks” was the answer her boyfriend gave her, finishing up his food and standing up to ego to the kitchen.

“C’mon! It will be fun! I found some board games at Namjoon’s room when I went to shower!” Your brother glared at her but she pretended she didn’t see it.

“I'm down” Taehyung was the first to agree “I’m bored as fuck and there’s no one online to game with” Alice high fived him and eyed the rest of you expectantly. 

Jungkook stood up to also take his dishes to the kitchen and halfway there turned around “I’ll pass” he was in a weird mood all day and, although he participated and wasn’t that closed off, you could tell his chipper disposition was missing. 

“I guess I’ll play as well then” Jimin stole the final sip from your cup and stood up, grabbing your plate as well as his.

“Thank you” you smiled at him and turned to your friends “I guess it can be fun..” Hoseok rolled his eyes but nodded as well, and Jin gave you a thumbs up.

You settled on a game of monopoly -that you lost by a big margin on the two rounds you played. Alice winning the first one and Jin the second. You were smart with money in real life but apparently as soon as you got rich on the game you got cocky and lost it all. Taehyung and Jimin weren’t so chill about losing, specially when you settled that last places would do the dishes. Namjoon and Hoseok, staying in the middle, managed to scape, and settled in front of the tv to play a few rounds of Mario Bros once everyone got annoyed with the board game.

While you were playing Yoongi stayed at the sofa on his computer with his headphones turned so loud you could distinguish the music coming from it as the one’s he was working on, and Jungkook hid away in Namjoon’s room. At first he just went there to shower, but he never got back and everyone must have sensed that there was something off, since no one went after him and just letted him be. 

It was almost 1am when you were done with the cleaning up, Jimin bailing half an hour ago and leaving you and your sibling to finish up. Taehyung went straight to his room to shower and get some sleep -at least that’s what he said, but he was always a night owl and you were sure he would be back to play his videogame a little in no time. Alice and Yoongi took one of the air mattresses to Jimin’s room and you guessed the three of them must already be out as there were no noises coming from his door. Jin was still on the couch, but you could see he was dozing off, so you nudged him to go to bed. He had slept with Tae on his bed the night before, but the younger had the habit of curling himself around whoever he was sleeping with and Jin hated it, so he took the other air mattress this time. Hoseok and Namjoon were also nowhere in sight, so you assumed you were the last one standing and made your way to Joon’s room. As soon as you opened the door you could hear his shower running, that wouldn’t be a problem, you could sleep through almost anything, but this time your place on the bed was already taken by a sleeping Jungkook.

You’ve forgotten for a second he had been hiding there the whole night and seeing him fast asleep you didn’t have the guts to wake him, so you turned around and decided to take the couch. You stayed awake for a little longer, reading a book you borrowed from Namjoon, waiting to see if Tae would be back, but he never was, so you turned out all the lights and made yourself comfortable in the sofa. You dozed off watching the snow fall outside, too lazy to stand up and close the curtains.

It must’ve been the middle of the night when you were woken up by an unwanted presence scooting beside you on the couch.

“Hey what are you doing?” You whispered to the body next to you

“Namjoon hyung is too warm” Jungkook murmured, barely awake, you noticed “and he snores” you chuckled and gave him a little more space.

The both of you stayed silent for a while, uncomfortably trying to keep your distance from each other even in the small space. Jungkook wiggled around and it was starting to annoy you. You turned to your side and pulled his arm over the small of your waist, making him turn as well and spoon you. He froze in place.

“Kookie, it’s okay, I just want to sleep” you could feel his breath on the back of your head getting back to normal. He stopped wiggling and got a little bit closer, touching his chest on your back.

“I like this” he whispered, before falling asleep. You liked it too, but you weren’t sure if you liked it because before he got here you were feeling a little bit cold and his body next to yours gave you the extra warmth you didn’t know you were missing, or if you liked it because the person next to you was who it was. You tried not to think about it and just fell asleep again.

The next morning you woke up in the same position you fell asleep, facing the sofa with Jungkook all wrapped up around you. It was pretty early and everyone else was still sleeping. You started to move a bit, to see if he would wake up as well, but it didn’t really work.

“Hey” you turned your head as far as you could, and saw his face just a few centimeters away from yours. His bangs were getting long and almost covered his eyes entirely. You moved your body a bit again, and he frowned in his sleep before hugging you closer to him and hiding his forehead on your shoulders. “Wake up, I have to pee” you whined and he chuckled, not giving any other signs he would move. “Dude, please” you tried to untangle yourself from him, but he just held you closer. You got tired of his antics and just stopped moving for a bit, as soon as you felt him relax you pushed yourself as hard as you could and, consequently, him. He fell to the ground with a sound thud but, weirdly, started laughing.

“You’re stronger then you look” he supported himself on his elbows and smiled up at you. You tried to ignore the weird thing your heart did and just stood up, walking towards the bathroom on the hallway.

“Take that as a warning not to mess with me” you said, not looking back. Jungkook laid back on the floor and closed his eyes, opening them again only when he heard you flush.

“I could really use a coffee right now” he said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Same” you went after him and the two of you started preparing breakfast.

It was supposed to be only coffee and toast, but then you were craving the pancakes he made you when you stayed over at his place, and you searched the kitchen for the ingredients. While doing so you found a few pieces of bacon on the back of the fridge and Jungkook gave you the idea of adding bacon and eggs to your toasts. Before you could notice you were making a full breakfast and the smell was invading every inch of the apartment.

“That’s something I like to wake up to” Hoseok anchored in the counter to steal a strip of bacon “please move in” 

You chuckled and made him a plate, soon enough the rest of your friends were all in the kitchen as well, in various stages of awakeness. Namjoon and Jimin were put together, having already showered and changed. Yoongi and Taehyung were half asleep, eating mindless not really paying attention to anything else. Jin was way too awake, cracking jokes about how Jungkook and you learned everything you knew from him and should come help at the cafe. Alice was on the phone with her mother, explaining why you never made it to Yoongi’s. 

Once breakfast was over, everyone scattered to do their own things. You went to Namjoon’s room to take a shower, as the other bathrooms were already taken, and once you came out only Jimin and Jin were at the living room, playing a game you didn’t know.

“Where’s everybody?” Both of them shrugged, not looking at you. You were going to ask again, but came to the conclusion it didn’t matter. You were all still stuck in and, by the sight of the snow falling outside, would be for a little while longer. So you took a place besides Jimin and extended your legs to his lap, grabbing your phone and scrolling mindless.

A few hours went by and every now and again someone would show up, hang for a little and then disappear again into one of the rooms. Everyone ate a lot and had breakfast late, so no one mentioned lunch, but once the sun started to set Taehyung came to find Jin and complain he was hungry again.

“Let’s just heat up mom’s food, it should be enough to feed everyone” Jin didn’t mind shifting his attention from the tv. From the looks of it, a couple more hours and they would beat the game. “y/n, can you do it?” You rolled your eyes but stood up, walking towards the kitchen with Tae right behind you.

“You’re giving me free breakfast for a week” you teased Jin, but he didn’t even budge.

“You wish”.

You found a couple of your mother’s foods and kept your brother as far of everything as possible. Even if Taehyung wasn’t as clumsy as Namjoon, he was still a mess at the kitchen and you wanted to spare yourself the extra work, so it was easier to keep him at bay. At some point Yoongi resurfaced from Jimin’s room and joined you at the kitchen, helping out where he could. Dinner was just finished when all the lights went down and you heard a couple of scrams, distinguishing Jin’s and Jimin’s swears.

Yoongi turned on his flashlight and Taehyung did the same, you left your phone charging so you didn’t have it with you.

“What happened?” Yoongi went to the counter to look at the living room, where you could make a few shadow moving. Alice came from the hallway with her flashlight turned on as well and illuminated the two boys in the couch, completely defeated.

“We were at the final boss” Jimin whined, covering his face with his hands.

“There was no save” Jin added, his body melting into the cushions.

“You’re so dramatic” even if you couldn’t see, you were sure Alice was rolling her eyes at them.

Namjoon and Jungkook emerged from their hiding spots as well.

“Is everyone okay?” Namjoon asked, turning his light around the room to find everybody. You all nodded. “Ok, the power must’ve gone off, it will probably come back soon.”

Jungkook walked to the window to check outside and the buildings and houses in the neighborhood also had their lights out. “I don’t know hyung, it’s pretty dark out there”.

Beside you, Taehyung was browsing the internet to see if he found anything about it, but to no avail. “We just have to wait it out, I’m gonna check on Hobi” he walked out of the kitchen and you looked back at Yoongi, who had put his phone down with the light turned to the ceiling and was opening the oven to check on the food. 

“It’s not boiling hot but it’s cooked, at least we can eat” he took it out and the smell attracted the ones on the living room to come close.

Taehyung came back with Hoseok and everyone set their phones with the lights up so you could at least see what you were eating. 

More than an hour went by and everyone had finished their dinners, but the light was still out. Taehyung’s phone had run out of battery already and the rest of you were taking turns keeping the flashlights on so it would last for as long as possible. Hoseok and Namjoon both had candles in their rooms but keeping them on did not turn out good when the scents started mixing, so you just kept one in the middle of the coffee table so no one would trip.

“I’m bored” Jin whined, lying on the floor by the tv. Everyone agreed, all the conversation topics had come to an end and for the past twenty minutes it was a weird, although comfortable, silence.

Suddenly, Jimin stood up, grabbing Taehyung by the hem of his sweater to follow him. Both boys disappeared into a room and came back minutes later carrying six bottles of whine. “Let’s have a drinking game” Jimin exclaimed, excited.

“How the fuck do you keep so much alcohol in your room?” Hoseok asked, amazed “not that I’m complaining, I’m in”

Everyone else agreed and Namjoon went to pick a deck of cards so you could play around with.

The first couple of games made you empty half the bottles already “Chim, I don’t think those would be enough” you were a little bit tipsy already, but could tell half your friends were still pretty sober, and it would take a lot to get them drunk. Jimin rolled his eyes and stood up, his cheeks were a little flushed, but he didn’t lose his balance at all, so you guessed he was part of the sober ones.

“You’re all paying me back later” he sent to his room and came back with a bottle of tequila. Everyone cheered and someone, you’re not sure who, suggested that you played Truth or Dare.

After making Hoseok drink a spoon full of mustard, Jin to go outside into the snowy balcony shirtless and dance, discovering that Tae had sex with girls back at your place in Joon’s bed and then making him chug half a bottle of wine, and Yoongi giving Jimin a pack on the lips, as well as a few other misadventures you couldn’t remember, you were certain everyone was far gone now. That’s when, for the first time, the bottle landed on you.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” It was Taehyung’s time to ask and you knew he was eager to have his revenge, as the ‘chugging half the bottle’ was your suggestion. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure of saying dare.

“Truth” you smiled triumphantly, but his smile grew as well, and you knew you’ve fucked up.

“Who was your first kiss?” Oh the betrayal. He was the only one of your siblings who knew the answer and that has been a well kept secret since it happened when you were sixteen, even with your elder brother constantly bothering you about it.

Your eyes went big and your siblings started laughing hysterically. You had just decided to drink instead of answering, bringing your cup to your lips and turning your head back, when you heard Jimin, sitting across from you “It was me” you choked and Taehyung laughed harder, everyone else following along.

“Yah! What the fuck?” Jin screamed at him, but you could hear the humor in his voice in between your coughs. Alice who was beside you tapped your back while Hobi filled back your cup.

“I have to hear this story” Hobi turned to fill Jimin’s cup as well, and you finally looked at his face, not sure if the blushing was from the alcohol or the secret finally being spilled. He was looking back at you, searching for confirmation, and you nodded your head slightly, knowing it was easier to get it over with while everyone was drunk, maybe they wouldn’t remember it the next day.

“It was at Tae’s 16th birthday” he began “we were playing never have I ever when a couple of our friends began making fun of y/n because she never drank” 

You remembered that night. You were fourteen and your parents had just finished their divorce, even if your dad had moved out more then a year previous. Jin was already at uni and Namjoon was on a trip with a girlfriend he had at the time. Your mother let Taehyung have his party at home as long as he took care of you there and cleaned it all the next day, and went to stay at your grandma’s for the night. The first thing your brother did when you were alone was raid your mother’s liquor cabinet, and that was the first time you would drink. At first you just took sips of your brother’s cup, but then someone gave you one all to yourself. You didn’t drink enough to get drunk, not really enjoying the taste, but all of his friends were just fine enjoying as much as they could the free alcohol. When it was time to play, you were pretty much the only one sober, and also the youngest there. A few people noticed you weren’t drinking, not having done much of what they were suggesting and started to feel bad. Then they started making questions directed at you, lowering the riskiness until the question “never have I ever kissed someone” came up. And you didn’t drink. That’s when the making fun really got to you. They all laughed and so did Taehyung. You didn’t get along at all by then, and he was going through a rebellious phase, so he was of no help. So when you started to tear up and ran away to your room crying, it was Jimin who came to find you.

“Y/n? Can I come in?” He knocked on the door before opening and showing his head, searching for you and finding you hiding under your covers on the bed. You didn’t answer, so he walked in, closing the door after. “They’re assholes, don’t mind what they said” he took a sit by the edge and you pulled your head out of the protection blanket you created. He was specially pretty that night. Your brother and him had dyed their hairs for the first time the month before, Tae’s was a faded orange now and Jimin’s was a faded blue, with the roots starting to show. He was wearing black from head to toe and the earrings you gave him on his birthday.

“I’m so ashamed” you pouted at him, with tears prickling the back of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of” he passed his hand through your hair “It’s just a kiss, half of the people their were lying about what they did anyway, don’t pay them attention” he smiled at you and you smiled back on instinct. Truth be told you had a small crush on him. He had always been kind to you, specially when your brother wasn’t, and he always made sure to include you and be by your side when you were left out.

“I’m gonna die alone” you covered back your head, realizing he was way out of your league and you’d probably never find someone you liked as much as you liked him as so you would never be kiss and never have sex and never get married and- you heard him chuckle.

“No you’re not” he pulled back the covers “you’re just being dramatic” he was looking at your soul and you felt like he had read your mind and knew all your deepest secrets. You sniffed and a tear slipped, he dried it before it could even reach your cheek, but instead of breaking the touch, he just kept his hand on your face and started to lean in closer. It wasn’t a deep passionate kiss, just a small one. Once you felt his lips on yours you immediately kissed him back. The butterflies were there, but barely. You liked him, sure, but you expected… more? He was the one who broke the contact. “There, now you’ve been kissed” his smile never wavered, always bright and kind. 

“Thank you” you whispered and smiled shyly “you should go back out there” he stood up and extended his hand to you.

“Only if you come with me” you accepted it and went back to the party.

No one had noticed you were back, having moved on from the game. The music was loud and there were a bunch of drunk teens in your living room. Jimin invited you to dance and so you did all the way through morning.

“That’s so cute???” Alice gushed beside you, raising her glass “a toast to Jimin, who’s better then us all!” But no one followed her, so she just chugged back her drink “Love is dead and you’re all hopeless” she whined.

Namjoon slapped Taehyung on the back of his neck “you’re an asshole”

“I was an asshole” he corrected, fixing his hair.

“I ship it” it was Hoseok’s turn to embarrass you, apparently. “what should we call you? MiniMini? You’re both pretty small after all…”

“No one’s shipping anything” Jin turned back his drink as well “and please no more kissing my sister”

From the corner of your eyes you noticed Jungkook gulp, but apparently you were the only one. “Who’s next?” He said, probably trying to change subjects as fast as possible, so Yoongi turned the bottle and the game continued through the night.

The lights never came back and when Namjoon’s phone died, leaving only yours still working, everyone decided to call it a night. You were all pretty drunk anyway, Alice and Tae had fallen asleep hours ago, and the rest of the boys helped them get to bed. Once everyone had retreated to their rooms, you were left to clean a bit, knowing you’d have to sleep on the sofa again. When you were back from cleaning the cups in the dark, you got back to the living room to see that Jungkook had turned the couch towards the window and had opened the curtains, and was just sitting there, barely lit up by the moon outside. 

The town was really pretty, all snowed in with the moon finally back as the skies had cleared up. You took a sit beside him and the both of you stood there quietly.

“I guess we’ll be free by tomorrow” he was the one who broke the silence.

“Yeah, I think so” and you were quiet again. You could tell he wanted to say something. A few minutes went by before he spoke again.

“Do you like Jimin?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “What? It’s a fair question!” He defended himself of your reaction.

“No Kookie, I don’t like Jimin” you turned to him and saw his ears turning red. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know” he turned away from you “you’re always kind to him… And you hug a lot.” He was embarrassed and you could tell. You had never seen Jungkook like that.

“It’s because he’s always kind to me too” you turned to the window as well.

“Yeah, he’s like that” Jungkook chuckled to himself, realizing how silly he was being. It was quiet again.

Suddenly, at the distance, fireworks started to go off. It went on for a while and you just watched, not saying anything.

“It’s probably new year’s” you finally spoke, still watching the party probably happening on the other side of town “I almost forgot it was today”

“It’s honestly the best new year I had in a while” Jungkook said quietly.

“Same here” you whispered “why didn’t you go home for Christmas?” You finally asked what’s been bothering you since the day before. Jin had told you that Jungkook didn’t have a nice relationship with his family, but when you started to ask more questions he refused to answer you. You found it odd, your brother always being the one you turned to for gossip, so you assumed it was something serious.

Jungkook took a deep breath before answering “I was not up for the drama this year” you turned to him, finally, but he didn’t turn too. Jungkook knew you wanted more, but he was no willing to ruin a pretty fun night with that story “I’ll tell you some other time”. He finally turned your way.

“But are you okay?” You wondered and pondered for a second before nodding his head slightly. You turned back to watch a new set of fireworks that had just begun.

The light on your phone turned off and you picked it up to see it was finally dead. “It’s gone” you sighted. I hope the power comes back by morning” you turned to Jungkook and found him already staring at you.

He scooted closer and you kept staring back at him. He then closed the distance and gave you a peck on the lips. It was really soft and lasted only a second.

“What was that for?” You whispered, not really bothered by the action, but amused.

“New year’s kiss” he smiled with fake innocence all over his face. It was late, you were still a bit drunk, the view from the city was pretty and there were fireworks happening as far as you could see, so you decided to let it slide, just for today.

“Okay” and you kissed him this time. He deepened the kiss before braking it again.

“I like when you call me Kookie” you looked at him puzzled “You called me Kookie last night and again today, I liked it” you smiled at him and pecked his lips again.

“Okay, Kookie.”

And the two of you stayed there, alternating between stealing kisses and watching the night until the sky started to get clear. You don’t remember falling asleep. Amidst the stolen kisses and the soft questions and the unspoken answers, at some point you fell out of consciousness, held by his arms and smelling his scent.

The next morning, you woke up alone. 

The sound of begs being dragged and chatter at the kitchen woke you up. Before anything else, someone extended you a cup of coffee, and you thanked Joon for doing so.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was still hoarse from sleeping, and you didn’t feel so well. It was probably colder then you remembered last night, and you’d probably catch a cold.

“They cleared the roads, Alice and Yoongi hyung are leaving to spend the last days of break with his family” he explained, sitting beside you and sipping on his on coffee. You sniffed and you brother pulled on the blanket you don’t remember getting last night “Jin hyung went out early today to get food and check on the shop and found you here, you fell asleep without a blanket” he explained.

“Is he back?” He then pointed at the kitchen, where although you couldn’t hear, you could see Jin waving his arms around, probably complaining about something the younger guys did.

“Taehyung’s the only one out, he said he was feeling claustrophobic and went for a walk” he rolled his eyes. It was still snowing outside, granted it was minimum compared to the last couple of days, but still “I’ll be pissed if I have to take care of the both of you sicko’s” he played around, giving your shoulder a nudge with his own. “Oh, and no one knows where Jungkook is” he added and you turned to him.

“What do you mean?” You tried to keep you cool but you were really curious. 

“He didn’t sleep here. He had slept in my bed before, but not last night” he took another sip of his coffee “didn’t sleep in anyone else’s room as well, didn’t you see him leave?”

You shook your head. He didn’t ask you if you knew where he slept, so you left that part out, and you really didn’t see him when he got out. “Did someone tried to call him?”

“Yeah, everyone did but he’s not picking up. Yoongi will drop by his place before going out and will check on him, we’ll try no to worry until then” he picked up your now empty mug and stood up.

You said your goodbyes to the couple before they went out and half an hour later Yoongi texted the group chat saying that JK was safely home, he was just asleep and never saw the calls because his phone was off. You knew Jungkook never turned off his phone before going to bed, so that was probably a lie, but you letted it slide, you would ask him later anyway.

You spent the next couple of days at the boy’s apartment, but eventually returned to the dorms. Jungkook never showed up again, and didn’t answer any of you calls or texts. It annoyed you to no end and also freaked you out a little bit. He probably regretted everything and the both of you crossed a line you shouldn’t have. There were still a few days before classes began again, but you stopped trying to contact him, deciding to catch up on some reading and help Jin out at the cafe when he reopened it, seeing as Rhina still wasn’t back and he could use a hand there.

You tried not to think about Jungkook, and for the most part you could, but he would still creep his way back into your mind a few times a day.

> A/N | Did you love the fluff? Because I loved writing it. At this point everyone has been so into all the tooth rotting stuff I'm almost afraid to bring in the angst, please don't kill me when I do haha I was going to wait until tomorrow to update but I think everyone can use a little distraction from the countdown to comeback (I know I can!), so I hope this helps a little. Next update will probably take a while longer because the chapters are getting longer and it's getting harder for me to write because of my university schedule, I hope you can understand. Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

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[staystrange]

i’m gonna make this place your home

Schitt’s Creek • Patrick Brewer/David Rose Rating: T • ~2.5k words • ao3

Who knew that when his dad had bought David this town as a joke, he’d actually bought him the life he’d always dreamed of but never thought he could possibly have?

-or-

David and Patrick visit the house, tour the house, and move into the house.

Title: "Home" by Phillip Phillips. Yes, I know, this is the cheesiest and most obvious choice, but Patrick kinda did make "this place" (Schitt's Creek) David's home, so I stand by it.

“I just don’t think I’m finished with this place.”

If you had told David when he first moved to Schitt’s Creek that he’d face his parents and his sister in the motel room they grew to call home and say those nine words out loud and mean every single one of them, he’d have told you that you were absolutely incorrect. It did feel a little scary to say them out loud so definitively, even though he knew it was the right — heck, the only — decision; his stomach was tight with anxiety the entire day, only loosening its hold when he saw the joy on Patrick’s face as David stood with Patrick in front of the house and told him he’d put an offer in for it. Or at least, he’d tried to put an offer in; his heart was in the right place, but he had no idea what he was doing.

It had been a combination of his conversation with Patrick and his heart to heart with Stevie that had opened his eyes to the fact that everything he had always wanted that he thought he would find in New York was actually right there in Schitt’s Creek, in the last place he’d ever thought he’d find it. Who knew that when his dad had bought David this town as a joke, he’d actually bought him the life he’d always dreamed of but never thought he could possibly have? People always said that money can’t buy happiness, but David honestly thought he had a uniquely strong example to prove those people wrong. It was a little bit too much to wrap his head around, and the thought of it brought tears to his eyes, something he’d realized had been happening a lot more since Patrick wandered into his life.

Patrick, who stands next to him as they face the house they will soon be calling their home, the two of them alternating between staring at the house and staring at each other. They probably stand in front of the house for longer than is considered socially acceptable for two almost-married people who had just bought their first house together (especially because they have no idea if anyone is even home, and if they are, whether they saw any of the makeout session they’d just had on the front lawn), but they are too happy to care. They are going to get married, they are going be husbands, and this house is going to be theirs.

“At this point, who even needs a wedding, am I right?” Patrick asks David.

“Oh, I do, I need a wedding, big time,” David replies, and Patrick just smiles.

———

Even in the midst of all of the last minute wedding planning (“Oh my God, Patrick, I forgot to pick up the flowers for my bouquet and your boutonniere from the florist!” “It’s okay, David, I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”) David makes sure that he and Patrick find time to actually see the inside of the house; he thinks it would be a good idea to actually make a plan with the current owners instead of just driving by the house and staring at it like he’d done every day, sometimes multiple times a day, since they’d put the offer in.

They close the store early that afternoon and drive over to the house, David’s hand holding Patrick’s tightly between them as Patrick drives. Patrick pulls up smoothly to the curb, putting the car in park before opening the driver’s side door and quickly walking around to the passenger side to open the door for David, who can’t help but smile at his husband’s unnecessary chivalry. Patrick holds his hand out to David, who takes it, standing and using the momentum to pull his almost-husband into a gentle kiss. They walk hand and hand up the path to the front porch, Patrick ringing the bell before smiling at David.

A woman opens the door after a few moments, her eyes crinkling in the corners as her smile spreads across her face. “Well hello again, Patrick,” she begins, recognizing him from their previous meeting, “and you must be David! It’s so great to finally meet you in person — I’ve heard so much about you from your fiancé.”

David blushes a little, though he makes a futile attempt to hide it since he’s in the presence of a complete stranger who is selling them her family’s house; he’s trying to make at least a decent impression so they’ll know their house is in good hands. “It’s lovely you to meet you as well…” he trails off, realizing he doesn’t actually know her name.

“Penny,” she replies, holding out her hand.

“Penny,” David repeats, shaking her hand. Penny looks out behind him and Patrick down the path that lead back to the street, confusion shaping her features. “Is something wrong?” David asks, sudden concern bleeding into his voice.

“Oh, I just figured Ray would be here to facilitate this tour since he’s the realtor.”

Patrick can’t help but let a burst of laughter escape his lungs, prompting David to direct a horrified look at his fiancé. “I used to live with Ray when I first moved here,” Patrick explains to Penny. “I think David and I have spent enough time with him to last a lifetime.”

“Say no more, I totally understand. Why don’t you two come in?” Penny replies, opening the door wide.

“Thank you so much,” David says, he and Patrick following her inside.

David fiddles with the lower of the two rings on his left ring finger as Penny closes and latches the door behind them. As she does, another woman walks into the room, her hair tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. There are paint splotches all over her light wash jeans and grey shirt and a paintbrush is tucked behind her ear. “Hi David and Patrick, I’m so sorry I look like this; inspiration struck this morning and I just had to get started on this painting before the idea slipped out of my head.” David smiles in understanding, as does Patrick.

“This is my wife Noelle,” Penny says to David.

“Nice to meet you, Noelle,” David says. “I’d shake your hand, but…” He trails off, nodding at the paint splotches on Noelle’s hands.

“No worries, I wouldn’t shake my hands in this state either,” Noelle replies. David immediately likes her.

“Shall we begin the grand tour, then?” Penny asks.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Patrick answers politely.

“I’m going to head back to the garage and work on this painting — I mean, pack up all of the stuff that’s left in there,” Noelle finishes hastily off a stern look from Penny, but David can tell there’s no real force behind it. She waves as she heads back to the garage, and Penny smiles quietly to herself with a look on her face not unlike the one David often sees on Patrick’s face when David gets overexcited like that.

“So as I told Patrick when I called him about the house, our daughters Alexis and Daisy are off to college this fall, so we’re moving down to Florida to be near them. Not too near them though, we want to give them their space and their freedom, but we’d at least like to be in the same country.” Penny laughs. “And we know them well enough that they’ll want us to be close by for when something inevitably goes wrong in their apartment.”

“Your daughter’s name is Alexis?” David asks Penny as she leads him and Patrick into the kitchen. “That’s my younger sister’s name, too.”

“Oh, really? What a lovely coincidence.” David smiles softly. “Does she live here in Schitt’s Creek?”

“She does, but she’s moving to New York City to pursue a career in PR after our wedding.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Penny leans her back against the kitchen counter. “And speaking of, congratulations!” She gestures to David’s rings. “When’s the wedding?”

“September 3rd,” Patrick replies, a huge grin on his face.

“Oh, wow, that’s coming up! I can’t believe you two managed to find time to visit the house with all of that going on; we certainly wouldn’t have had time for anything like this that close to our wedding. And speaking of, let me actually give you the tour instead of talking your ears off.”

Penny shows them around the whole house, ideas for furnishings and color schemes popping into David’s head so fast he can barely type them down into the notes app on his phone. He shares some of them out loud with Patrick as well, and based on the grin on his face that has somehow gotten bigger as the day goes on, he loves them all. By the time they’re about to leave, David has a clear picture of exactly what he wants their home to look like, and he’s itching to grab a pencil and sketch it all out to show Patrick.

“Thank you so much for showing us around,” Patrick says when they’re back at the front door again. “And thank you so much for taking me seriously and actually calling me when you decided to sell. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t just think I was crazy or something.

Penny looks surprised for a moment. “No, of course we didn’t think you were crazy! We thought it was very sweet actually, and I’m glad we could make this happen for you.”

“Us too,” Patrick responds, glancing at David to confirm, which he does with a smile and a nod.

Later that night, David’s at Patrick’s (he basically lives there at this point, if he’s being quite honest) and he’s sitting on the couch with his back against the arm, his sock-covered feet on the cushions and his sketchbook in his lap. Patrick is draped over his shoulders, his arms crossed over David’s chest, pressing kisses to David’s neck as David draws out some of his ideas for their house from earlier that day. He’s sketching out their bedroom, humming to himself as the pencil moves on the page. After a few minutes, he turns around toward Patrick and sets the sketchbook on the arm of the couch so that he can see the page right side up.

“So this is what I’m thinking for our room. We could put the bed against the wall and paint the walls that dark blue that you like and we could get bedding to match and —” David looks up at Patrick and stops, realizing that Patrick has been staring at him the whole time he’s been talking instead of at the drawing of what David’s describing. “Honey, you’re not even looking at it.”

“Hmm, you’re very distracting when you’re excited,” Patrick responds.

“Okay, Patrick, but I need you to look at what I’m describing because I want to make sure you like it so we can order this stuff and get this all ready to go because I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be worrying about all of this while we’re on our honeymoon. I just want to focus on being with you.”

David didn’t expect to get this sappy; it must have been seeing the house with Patrick that turned him all soft. Actually, maybe it was just Patrick.

“Fine,” Patrick whines over-dramatically, kissing David’s cheek before picking the sketchbook up and leaning his elbows onto the arm of the couch. He takes his time, running his fingers over the page, careful not to smudge the pencil lines. “I love it. I love you.”

Patrick hands the sketchbook back to David, who takes it with a smile. “Thank you, I love you too. Now let me sketch out the rest of the rooms because I have so many ideas to run by you.” David turns to a blank page in the sketchbook, tapping his pencil against the page as he decides which room he wants to visualize next.

He’s just decided on the dining room when Patrick takes the pencil out of his hand. David whips his head around, incredulous. “And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Making sure that my fiancé takes a break from the constant planning and actually gets some rest since our wedding is only a few days away and I know he certainly doesn’t want the exhaustion to show on his face in our wedding photos,” Patrick replies, holding the pencil above his head where David can’t reach it from his seat on the couch. “You know I’m right.”

“Fine,” David says, closing the sketchbook and resigning himself to his fate. “But you have to come to bed too; I don’t want you to have exhaustion showing on your beautiful face either. And that goes for always, not just at our wedding. You spend way too much time working on spreadsheets and not enough time sleeping.”

Patrick laughs. “Whatever you say, David.”

———

The wedding is beautiful. Even though the rain throws a bit of a wrench into things, everyone in David’s life in Schitt’s Creek rallies together to make the day as perfect as it could possibly be. David has never felt more loved in his entire life.

None of it feels real until the day David and Patrick actually move into their house. He hadn’t realized how much stuff he’d managed to accumulate since moving to Schitt’s Creek until he had to pack all of it up and load it into the moving van. He’d helped Patrick too, especially because so many of his things had ended up at Patrick’s apartment anyway.

They stand in front of the house again, just like they had the day David told Patrick he wanted to stay in Schitt’s Creek, but this time with the moving van in the driveway and the empty house in front of them waiting to be filled with them and their lives and their love. They hold each other close, excited to begin their lives together but not really looking forward to the actual manual labor involved in unpacking everything they own. So instead they procrastinate in each other’s arms, in each other’s faces, in each other’s kisses.

When they’re finally finished unpacking, or at least as finished as they’re going to get on the first day in their new home, David sits down on their bed, pulling Patrick down beside him. “Hi,” he says simply.

“Hi,” Patrick replies. “Welcome home.”

It’s in that moment that everything hits David, even as he’s extremely distracted by Patrick’s mouth on his. He feels a sudden warmth in his chest, and he knows that Stevie was right that day they visited the house — he’d won. He’d really won.

David and Patrick wear identical ear-to-ear grins when they break apart. “I guess it’s time to start thinking about another housewarming party,” Patrick says.

“Sure, but make no mistake, I will be doing the planning this time,” David replies.

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

𝖥̶𝗋̶𝗂̶𝖾̶𝗇̶𝖽̶𝗌̶  Family.

Monthly Prompts Day 26

August 26th - Okay

AU Used: None, but it does take place a while before my original story starts.

Characters: Butchy, Lela (Teen Beach) and Miles (OC)

Miles had stayed with Butchy for nearly six months at that point, working at a shop not too far away so he could help pay for food and the bills as well as saving some each paycheck for himself so he would be able to get a house for himself. Miles didn’t like feeling as though he was taking advantage of Butchy and his little sister’s kindness by staying so long. Staying with them was nice and Miles really felt at home with them, but he knew that he felt like a burden on the two of them for staying so long in their house.

Miles had spent the last three months of his stay trying to convince Butchy to let him race like the rest of the Rodents did. Butchy had turned down Miles’ every request, telling the younger biker that he didn’t know of anybody outside of the Rodents that would race fairly with a new biker. Miles had a feeling that was Butchy’s way of dismissing him nicely, but never did bring it up with Butchy to find out if that’s what it was. After a while, Miles had worn Butchy down to the point where Butchy decided to teach Miles to ride on Butchy’s motorcycle with the only condition being that Miles couldn’t race until he got his motorcycle license and had it for at least two months without getting any tickets for driving. Miles didn’t have a motorcycle of his own just yet, so he agreed with Butchy’s conditions fairly quickly. Miles had a plan that, later on down the road, he would exchange the car he had driven to Florida in, for an Indian motorcycle he’d wanted for as long as he could remember.

After a month of practice, Miles went for his motorcycle license and passed it with flying colors. Butchy had the Rodents help set up a party for Miles at Big Momma’s in celebration. That night, Miles had received his very first leather jacket with the Rodent logo and emblazoned on the back. Butchy had allowed Miles to borrow his motorcycle for a few hours to go out driving with his new license.

Miles loved the thrill of the ride; the wind rushing through the ends his hair from under his helmet and his new leather jacket keeping him protected and warm from the wind were two feelings Miles just couldn’t get enough of. He sighed as he pulled to a stop at a red light - he hadn’t wanted to stop the drive, but fate decided that he needed to. As he watched the other lanes of traffic go by, Miles saw another motorcycle pull up beside him. He had to admit, the motorcycle was nice. It was a yellow-orange, Harley Davidson that Miles believed could’ve been a 1956 and it had a silver etching of a shield on the side with a banner that said “Fight for Honor and Die for Freedom”. Something about that line struck a chord in Miles head, but he brushed it off, making a mental note that he should tell Butchy about the nice bike and the saying etched into the side of it later and giving the other motorcyclist a wave that Butchy had told him was simple “Biker Etiquette” during training.

The other motorcyclist returned the wave, pointing toward the next set of lights, maybe a quarter-mile down the road. The other biker wanted to race the next quarter-mile. Knowing that Butchy had told him over and over again to not race anyone and wanting nothing more than to make the older biker proud of the fact he had turned down a possible race, Miles shook his head. The light turned green and Miles decided to turn around and head back toward the home he shared with Butchy and Lela. To Miles’ confusion, the biker on the yellow Harley turned with him. He noticed not long after that the other biker had picked up speed to catch up with Miles. Miles watched the other biker as he switched lanes, expecting the guy to go around him, but instead, the man continued following Miles, joining him in the lane Miles had just switched to. Miles stared into his rear-view mirrors every now and then as he began to gain speed, hoping to get a good distance between himself and the other biker.

Miles’ borrowed motorcycle’s engine roared as it hit the next gear; he had kept it under the 65 miles-per-hour sped limit so far, but if the guy behind him was going to chase him around, he at least wanted a chance of getting away. Miles heard the revving of the Harley’s motor as it got closer to him. He knew if this man wasn’t slowing down or going around him, he probably wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. Oh, how he wished he’d brought his car for a ride instead; the car he had stolen from his father and now claimed as his own, had been made with a telephone built in and would’ve made for a much safer escape from the racer that was tailing him from behind.

Miles couldn’t help the surge of panic that struck him as he realized that if he kept going toward town, the stalker motorcyclist would know where Miles’ home was. The man would know where his friends were. What made Miles worry the most was the notion that the motorcyclist would know where Butchy and Lela lived as well. Miles couldn’t go home... not when he had to protect his family from this man.

When he had to stop at a red light, Miles could almost hear his heart thumping in his chest. With petrified anticipation, Miles watched in his rear-view mirror at the other biker as the Harley driver refused to slow down. Miles found himself praying that the light would turn green or that the man would just give up trying or that maybe, just maybe, he could get away from the man fast enough to find a pay phone and call Butchy for help. He didn’t really know what Butchy could do to help him, but maybe Butchy knew the motorcyclist and could convince him to stop chasing after Miles.

Just as the other biker was approaching, the light turned green and Miles sped off as fast as he could. The other motorcyclist hadn’t been slowing down, so it wouldn’t have taken him a lot of time to get to the same speed Miles had. Miles felt the panic in him welling up again as he took a sharp turn onto the off-ramp before the exit to go home. The exit he had gotten off on was for the two towns next to theirs, so there was still a chance Miles could lose the biker somewhere in that area if the Harley driver had followed him off the highway. Miles was almost sure he nearly wrecked Butchy’s motorcycle turning off the highway, but after righting the bike and taking a look in his mirror again, Miles felt like he could breathe again. The other biker hadn’t gotten off the highway on the same exit and, for that, Miles was eternally grateful.

Miles wasn’t sure what it was about the whole experience that kept him feeling anxious instead of relaxed for the rest of the ride home, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of fear from his body. As Miles neared the beach, he turned toward Big Momma’s, hoping to see that Butchy and Lela had left with Lugnut as they’d said they would. Miles saw that Lugnut’s motorcycle and it’s attached sidecar were gone from the front of the restaurant, so he continued on until he reached home, pulling his borrowed bike into the garage and turning it off with a deep breath. Miles quickly dismounted the bike and placed Butchy’s helmet on the seat before closing up the garage and sliding the locks into place. Miles didn’t want to take off his jacket just yet as he was still chilly from the ride, but still found himself taking it off and putting it on the coat rack by the door as he always did when he came in from outside.

“Butchy, Lela, I’m home,” Miles called into the house. The lights were off all throughout the bottom floor of the house, giving Miles an almost eerie feeling. Lela was forever watching something on TV, especially if her favorite show, Find Your Voice. Butchy would usually be found in the kitchen with some kind of monstrosity cooking on the stove as he sang along to the radio and forgot to check on the food or in his room reading with some music playing in the background. Tonight, however, the house was perfectly silent.

“Are you up there, tiny?” Miles hollered, heading toward the stairs that would bring him to the second floor of the house where Lela’s room and the spare bedroom where he stayed was. Lela’s bedroom and his own were both empty, just as the rest of the second floor was. Miles headed back downstairs, checking the kitchen and dining room once more before heading toward Butchy’s room and giving the door a knock. “Butch, you in there?”

No response came, so Miles pushed open the door and peeked in. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Butchy had left his bedroom window open just a crack so that the air would circulate while he was gone. Butchy had left a few things out on his bed, his journal and a box that Miles never recalled seeing before, being the most notable things. Butchy’s closet was still open and he had obviously been in a hurry that morning as the older biker had left his pajamas on the floor in front of his laundry basket. Miles shook his head and ducked out of the room, heading back for the living room.

He hated the silence that greeted him.

Miles couldn’t let himself think about much apart from the fact that Butchy and Lela weren’t home. Why weren’t they home? Lugnut’s bike wasn’t at Big Momma’s and Lugnut was Butchy and Lela’s ride home. What if the man that had followed him on the yellow Harley had followed him? Was he some sort of crazy, racing obsessed guy that would do anything to win? What if that man had gotten to Lela and Butchy before Miles got home? Miles felt that pang of worry in his chest yet again, deciding it would be best if he tried not to think of that possibility.

Miles took a deep breath to calm himself, heading for the front door, taking his leather jacket back off the coat rack and pulling his house keys from the hook next to the door. Miles swung the door open, only to be startled by an equally startled Lela and Butchy. Miles found out later on from Lela that, in that moment, he had let out a squeak he never would’ve admitted to.

Miles moved to let the siblings inside, hanging his keys and jacket back up before he followed them to the kitchen. “Where were you?” Miles asked softly, watching Lela take some shopping bags from Butchy and bringing them toward the garage where they kept the chest freezer.

Butchy smiled at the younger biker as he placed a container of mint ice cream in front of Miles. “We went shopping with Lugnut after the party and helped him put stuff away when we got back. You said mint was your favorite, right?”

Miles nodded, silently taking the container and pulling a spoon from the silverware drawer as Butchy walked to the other side of the kitchen. “Butch?”

Butchy had taken the bag of groceries to the pantry and had been putting away some boxes of pasta when Miles spoke. “Yeah, bud?”

“Are you and Lela doing okay?” Miles asked, watching Butchy as the older boy put away some cans of veggies.

The older biker paused, turning to Miles curiously. Butchy set aside the bag of groceries and returning to where Miles was standing. “Lela’s good and I’m alright. Why? What’s wrong, Miles?”

Miles stared into his ice cream, taking in a breath. “I was on my drive earlier and there was a guy on a yellow Harley who wanted to race me.”

Butchy straightened, looking more like a scolding older brother than Miles had ever really seen him. “Miles, I thought we agreed on no racing until-”

“I didn’t race him, that’s the thing,” Miles interjected, meeting Butchy’s eyes with certainty. “He gave me a weird feeling when he pulled up next to me, so I told him that I didn’t want to race.”

Butchy nodded, relaxing onto the counter across from Miles. “That’s good, but what does that have to do with Lela and I?”

Miles took in a spoonful of ice cream before speaking. “I turned around to go home and he followed me.” Miles didn’t stop there even though that was all he had wanted to say. Once he had started, however, he couldn’t stop the flow of words as they tumbled out in a hurry.  “He wasn’t in the lane with me, he was next to me, so I thought that was it. I thought he would go straight and I would turn, but he followed me instead. I didn’t want to come home in case he tried to follow me, because I feel like he would’ve if I’d given him the chance. I was scared he would try something if I came home and I didn’t know what to do. I had no way to call you for help and I might’ve broken the speed limit on my way home, but I didn’t feel safe so I rushed back here when I thought I was safe. Then, I got here and you guys weren’t home and I thought he might’ve...that he might’ve...”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Butchy began as he rounded the kitchen counter, standing next to Miles and putting his hands on the younger biker’s shoulder. “Lela’s here and I’m here, right?” Miles nodded to him, turning to face Butchy and leaving his ice cream on the counter. “Then, I think we’re all okay. We’re safe, bud.”

“Okay,” Miles said with a small smile, taking his ice cream from the counter as Butchy took his arm and lead him toward the living room.

“Hey, Lela,” Butchy called out, watching as his sister came in from the garage.

“Yeah?” she asked, joining the two boys with a smile.

Butchy gave Lela a smile and nudged Miles toward her. “Miles needs a hug and I can’t think of a better hugger than you, sis.”

Lela had absolutely no hesitations when it came to hugs, so Miles should’ve been prepared when the short brunette threw her arms around his waist and pulled him close. The two stayed like that for a moment before Miles reached out with one hand and pulled Butchy into the embrace as well. The hug lasted longer than Miles recalled ever hugging the two of them, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

The three of them stayed close for the rest of the evening, watching TV and eating whatever snacks they could find. Lela retired to bed around eleven, telling the boys that she needed sleep before school the next day. Miles and Butchy stayed up until nearly two in the morning watching The Addams Family and talking about all the events of the day.

It dawned on Miles the next morning at breakfast with Lela and Butchy that he had considered Butchy and Lela’s house his home all day the day before. He had spent the entire day thinking of his friends as his family. This town, this house, these people... They were his family and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[drkcnry67]

title: will you be my date?

pairing: Jensen x reader

fluff 2020 sq: fake dating

rating: pg-13

tags: flirtation, wedding date, fake wedding date, meeting again first time in months, meeting the friends, faking it for the press, whats fake becomes reality, alot of fluffiness ness

summery: not telling

created for @spnfluffbingo​  

fluff 2020 masterlist     part 1   part 2

our reader had met Jensen in disney world orlando of all places their month long vacay was spent together, their lives forever changed by that moment. now we come in after they have been apart and not seen eachother for almost 7 months.

it had almost been 7 months since the vacation that changed your entire life. you had gone and gotten a press job, you were set to cover a wedding in california in the next few weeks.

you made ready to travel and of course your best friend was coming with you. every good journalist needs a second in command. someone to take notes and answer calls and such. she was happy to do so.

Beth: “whose wedding are we covering?”

YN: “i dont know but its gonna be a wedding for the ages. i just hope there is no surprises while we are there and that we can outscoop those vulture presses in california.”

Beth: “why do they always have you covering weddings?”

YN: “cause my first article was a small wedding cover on a teacher at the university who had asked me to cover their wedding for the school paper. this firm liked how i did it so they have me covering weddings of all types.”

Beth: “have you heard from him?”

you smiled cause you knew she would ask. she always did like the caring best friend she was.

YN: “yes he said he was gonna be traveling for work in the next few days. so we will find time to talk in the next week or so.”

Beth smiled she knew you had fallen hard for Jensen and the way she had heard you speak about him she knew he had to be your one. as you were his.

Beth: “dont fret girl, you both will be back to your text routine in the next week. right now we have things to prepare. now lets go through the checklist.”

ah yes the check list. the same one you both went through a few days before every single trip you both took. this list went as follows:

pack: toiletries, 4 shirts, 2 pants, 2 skirts, 2 shorts, 2 sweater, 5 dresses, 4 shoes, camera, tripod, notbook, laptops, and other such equipment.

print out flight info, press papers and such.

call the landlord and let him know bout your trip and that he can collect and drop off your mail.

call your familys to let them know that you both were going on another trip.

double checking that you have everything packed the night before your flight.

eat when at the airport easier and less likely to be hungry on the flight.

call your boss and let her know your getting on the flight.

that was the list. this list gets checked, checked and triple checked. making sure that anything and everything you both would/might need while away was with you. this was your normal.

there were times you wished you could see jensen even for a moment to tell him of your stronger feelings. cause that was something that you simply did not do over text.

5 am flights are evil, but 330am flights are the devil. the good news was that you had this was the best flight of your life and best part was that your boss charged everything to the company card including any spending you girls may do while there,

being in this field of profession was amazing. most of the time you both took full advantage of this. okay all the time. this was the few times where you could both splurge and not worry bout the bank accounts.

Jensen was the one who was also boarding a flight at the same time. little did you both know was that you would see eachother sooner than you both would think.

Jensen: “bro i wish i could see her again trust me when i say i feel it, she is my soulmate. she is the one i am meant to be with for the rest of my life. but how do i tell her of these feelings over text. it doesnt seem right. when/if i see her again im gonna tell her the truth.”

Jared: “if fate comes together the way it should, you will in time bro. you will see her again and have the chance to tell her the truth.”

Jensen: “ya i guess your right. so you ready to go. Misha isnt gonna wait forever.”

within a few hours on a flight you and your bestie were at the airport, grbabing your luggage and heading to meet the cab to get to the hotel you were staying at.

the  Ayres Hotel Manhattan Beach LAX this was one of the nicest hotels you both had stayed at in your adventures. you checked in and went to your room.

YN: “do you think i could ever be truly happy.?.”

Beth: “what ever would give you such an idea that you wouldnt be?”

YN: “maybe the fact that Jensen is all i have been able to think about when it comes to dating and i have no idea where he is or if i will ever see him again.”

Beth: “believe me girl when i say that you will find your happily ever after with the right man, whether that be Jensen or not.”

YN: “thank you for being my best friend.”

Beth: “your welcome now lets get into something cute and go for a stroll through town there are bound to be a few small shops that we want to hit. dont worry bout anything girl. we will find love soon. both of us.  dont worry about any of this relationship buisness. now whose wedding are we covering this time.”

you took out the notes and looked at the name. before now you had not heard of the show supernatural. you were not in the know how, you were in the comic book side of things and more into superheros. Supernatural never came up.

Beth was the one person who you always counted on when you were well going through life. you knew that one day maybe sometime soon, you would find thr one person you were always meant to be with, or the fact that you possibly have already found yours.

Jensen and Jared were in the same area as you and Beth little did you know that you would both bump into the 2 men who one of which had already strolled into your life and practically stollen your heart.

Jensen and Jared were walking in suit of you and Beth neither of you aware of the other party. but as Jensen and Jared were walking along they realized that they hadnt eaten.

you had made your way into the food court with Beth, you both sat in the santa lucia in that food court waiting for your pasta bowls. both of you waiting for the pasta and thats when you heard it, when your ears caught wind of the voice you had not heard for almost 7 months. the voice that had calmed you down.

the voice that made your vacation in florida alot better. you got up out of your seat and turned around.

YN: “Jensen.”

at the sound of his name Jensen turned towards you. it was like something out of a hollywood movie, you both moved magnetized towards eachother landing once more in eachothers embrace. after months of not having seen eachother, not being able to feel a single touch or to hear a voice was as breathtaking as the day you both first met.

lingering in the embrace for a while made both of your best friends finally realize what the hell just happened.

Jensen: “omg i cant believe that your here.”

YN: “you cant believe it, neither can i. but what are you doing here i thought you were working?”

Jensen: “im the best man at my other best friends wedding.”

You smiled…

YN: “what a coincidence im here as a journalist to cover a wedding suppsed to be a huge deal and im supposed to get the best most amazing article ever again.”

Jensen and Jared decided they would join you and Beth for lunch so you and Jensen could have some time.

Jensen: “im sorry i didnt tell you where or what…”

YN: “no worries. neither of us lied we just werent specific. whose your best friend whose getting married.”

Jensen: “whose your client?”

Beth chimes in at that moment…

Beth: “why dont you both say the first name at the same time on the count of 3.”

you and Jensen turned to face eachother as the countdown started…

Beth: “1… 2… 3…”

both you and Jensen had taken a huge breath to make sure that it would come out clear as a bell.

Both (Jensen & YN): “Misha…”

the looks of shock crossed both of your features…

Jensen: “your one of the reporters covering my best friends wedding…”

YN: “yes and im gonna write a better article than any of them… i have many journalist enemies. ask Beth my best friend and partner in journalist crime fighting.”

Jensen: “its very nice to finally meet you Beth YN has spoken nothing but good things about her best friend. my best friend in the universe is the man sitting right beside yours this is Jared…”

Jared who now was gazing at Beth turned to you to greet you.

Jared: “its an honor to meet the mystery woman who my brother here had not shut up about. dude did you tell her?”

Jensen now had his hand around yours firmly but neither of you had noticed anyone out of the ordinary around. but in truth there were photographers. hidden ones 2 of them, snapping photos of you Jensen Jared and Beth little known to any of you but your photos would be all over the tabloids in the morning of next.

unbeknown to those photographers your boss was also a lawyer and she would eat those photographers bosses for breakfast lunch dinner and dessert.

Jensen: “Jared, Misha and i are celebrities we are the main stars of the hit tv show Supernatural…”

YN: “i didnt realize.. i mean no disrespect or anything but i would have had no idea that you were a celebrity if you had not just told me…”

Jensen: “i hope your not mad that i didnt tell you.”

You put your hand on his and smiled.

YN: “i am not mad at all… umm there is nothing about this in any of my books.”

Jensen: “well we will have lunch, all 4 of us will go shopping and touring and then we will go back to the hotel and introduce you to our hit tv show. speakign of which what hotel are you guys at?”

you were smiling as you pulled the room card out and showed it to Jensen, who just smiled happily like a kid in a candy store. this was probably the happiest moment you had experienced since your vacation to florida.

Jensen: “so we are in the same hotel and our suites are right beside eachother. this is gonna be the best few weeks ever…”

YN: “agreed plus now you can experience the world the way i see it…”

Jensen: “i look forward to it… now whats for lunch?”

You smiled and remembered how much you missed Jensen’s commitment to every single meal…

YN: “never ending pasta bowls if the waitress comes back… but i was now thinking maybe we can all just split a couple pizzas whatever we dont eat we can get in take out containers and eat for dinner tonight… oh that reminds me Beth did you bring the list and the bags?”

Beth smiled and nodded. you had the backpack she had the purse and the shopping bags. the guys got the just of what you were talking about when they saw all the bags…

Jensen: “wow you are gonna do some massive shopping hmm…”

YN: “well we dont plan to eat out every single night and day… sure we are on company card with no limits but thats not how we roll we always stay in a hotel with a suite style so kitchenette and such…thats why we are where we are.”

Jensen: “you are as smart as you are cunning and beautiful. now lets go shopping and maybe ill get something special for a special girl.”

this made your heart flutter of course neither you not Jensen had admitted anytihng yet. but maybe it will come out soon. but not right then.

YN: “your so sweet… but i am still hungry…”

Jensen: “then lets bring the waiter and order our food…”

Jensen waves down the waitress who comes take your order and comes back 20 min later with your food, the bags full of your pizzas portioned into meals, as well as the pasta bowl for you all to split.

after lunch, you all exited the food court and went to walk around. you and Beth hit several hundred stores for clothing, stationary, electronics, groceries etc. Jensen had bought several items since he went everywhere you did as Jared did Beth.

Jared: “i have an idea why dont we all watch supernatural together i think both of these ladies deserve to see why we are some of the countries most amazing actors. cause im sure we have enough snacks to make it quite far in the show. plus i think we can all also play a game or 2 of truth or dare… make this a game night…”

with everyone in agreemnet, you all hit a few more shops on the way back to the hotel. arms full of shopping bags full of food and miscellanious items of various varieties. including another 2 small suitcases to help bring back everything you and Beth bought.

arriving back at the hotel, you all head into your seperate rooms to put down all your shopping stuff, then Jensen and Jared arrive back a few moments later to see you going through the papers on the table.

Jensen: “what are you doing beautiful?”

YN: “going over my list so i know what i have to bring to the wedding… which i know isnt for a few days yet but if i want to write the best article and make my boss proud once again i have to do all the research i can…”

Jensen looked at Jared who nodded his head as both of them were thinking the exact same idea…

Jensen: “do you want a few quotes from us as we are in the wedding party…”

you grabbed your notebook questionaire and pen and ushered the guys to the table.  where sitting down the following interview took place:

YN: “thank you both of you for offering to give me some insight ahead of the wedding. i know you both are dedicated to every cause you must be involved in but you both have so many talents. can either of you tell me any details about the wedding from your perspective?”

Jared ushers to Jensen for him to answer the question…

Jensen: “Misha is our dear friend, brother and co star so its an honor for us to have helped him with his wedding. this wedding contains a kind of simpleness that would soothe any bad mood. from what ive seen of the hall already it looks amazing and the couple is happy as can be. we are all very exicted about the big day.”

you finish writing down the quote and then you smile as you look at your question list.

YN: “one more question, who will both of you be bringing to the wedding as your dates?”

Jensen: “im going solo to see what the evening harolds for me.”

Jared: “same here, cause we mostly want to make that evening about Misha and Victoria, they need to have the most amazing day ever and if we can find our happiness during the event then we will pursue whatever comes our way.”

YN: “thank you both of you for those beautiful words. ill definately have the best article now… i believe someone said something about introducing us to Supernatural. and will there be some cuddling involved?”

you sent a wink Jensen’s way..

Jensen: “so ladies where are we watching the show? out here or in one of the bedrooms?”

both beth and Jared noticed the subtle enchanges between you and Jensen, knowing that with the cuddling would come eventually fallin asleep into your afternoon naps, which usually would take place after lunch.

you held Jensen’s hand leading him into the bedroom where the bed was right in front of the television. this television was already programed with netflix and such.

Jensen and you took off your coats and shoes and got cozy on the bed. Jared and Beth sat on the fouton couch and quietly watched you and Jensen hoping that you both would find happiness in eachother.

but it was up to you and Jensen to figure out from within yourselves first if you both truly wanted this. Jared and Beth wouldnt interfere… they just wanted their friends to be happy.

YN: “okay whose got the remote cause we dont.”

Beth: “im on it bestie…”

she shot a wink your way and you smiled as Jensen’s hand was on your thigh under the blanket. his fingers cool to the touch on your skin. this was your happy place.

Jared: “you both are gonna love this show…”

the pilot starts and you feel Jensen’s fingers tracing circles into your thigh, Jared and Beth are on the couch looking all normal cozy. you and Jensen were all bed cozy.

at the end of the pilot you and Jensen nodded off, the exhaustion had finally caught up, your head was Nestled into Jensen’s neck his arms were around your form as you both were passed out.

Jared: “they passed out faster than expected. would you like to go back to my room so these 2 can sleep for the night in peace.”

Beth: “lets go cause im sure they arent waking up anytime soon.”

Beth and Jared sneak out of the hotel room, you and jensen remain peacefully asleep, this was your salvation. this was to be your future if you played your cards right.

several hours later you and Jensen stirred to the smell of Bacon and food variants. Waking up you both smiled and got up walking out of the bedroom and into the main room.

On the table was the rolled up newspaper, you un rolled it, that’s when you got up and backed against the wall. You were starting to break down.

Jensen: “YN what’s wrong?”

You only pointed to the newspaper on the table and started to cry. Jensen looked at the paper and would have fallen on the ground if the chair had not been there. That’s when Jared and Beth saw the paper.

Jared: “oh my God!”

Beth: “shit. Jensen get YN into the other room and make sure she has her phone she needs to call her boss now!”

Jensen gets to you and carries you to the bedroom, both of you sitting on the bed. He hands you your phone with which you hold before it rings. Jensen takes your phone and answers it:

Jensen: “hello."

Talia: "is YN there? I saw something on the tabloids and… Wait a minute are you Jensen?”

Jensen: “yes thats me… i wish i was meeting the woman who YN says is the best boss in the universe under better circumstances. she and i both saw the paper, she is in shock… she is unresponsive im afraid…”

Talia: “can you put me on speaker so she can hear what i have to say…”

Jensen puts you on speaker.

talia: “YN i know you are on the verge of a breakdown but i just spoke to the LA times and they are using it as blackmail against you. they want you to drop your claim on covering the wedding of Misha Collins and if you dont they will keep following you and Jensen and spreading more and more destruction to your name. i can not even stress how this looks, i hope this works out im also negociating with the director of the LA times on your behalf. you both cannot afford to be seen in public together before the wedding. so take great care and be careful.”

YN: “talia please be smart when negociating with these LA Times Snakes. and please keep us informed as to what you find. and tell them i will not renounce my claim on this story, i will not be bullied into something as petty as blackmail for finding someone special and sitting down to have lunch with them but thank you for talking to them...”

Talia: “your welcome. talk to you soon.”

the call disconnects leaving both you and Jensen in the bedroom. this was to be your downfall. you could not handle being the center of attention especially now knowing that it was blackmail.

YN: “im so sorry about this Jensen. if not for me you would never have gotten involved with this stupid News paper company. the la times has been after me for years. since my first time covering weddings here in LA i have been at war with the LA times. and this is the last straw. they have finally played their dirty card. fine i guess it will have to be most upsetting to them when they learn why im the best at writing wedding articles which they are about to learn this lesson the hard way.”

Jensen: “let me call Misha so we can figure this out…”

Jensen pulls out his phone and hits dial on Misha’s number… once Misha answers the following conversation takes place:

Misha: “ah its my best man…”

Jensen: “have you seen the la times today good buddy?”

Misha yells to be handed the paper and gasps as soon as he sees it…

Misha: “thats the girl whose supposed to be covering the wedding. shoot me a text on where you guys are. ill find a way to come to you… or i can meet you wherever whenever i just need to know more.”

Jensen: "drive your self for this one Misha cause no one can be trusted, the LA times is blackmailing YN we are currently on lockdown in the Ayres Hotel Manhattan Beach LAX. Pull to the underground parkade entrance, wait for jared he will meet you down there and he will drive you into the parkade and park the car in our room spot. He will then bring you up to the room where we are."

Your only concern was that your feelings were growing stronger, neither of you were fully aware yet of the others affections for the other.

You and Jensen spent the next few days away from public eye, before the wedding hanging out binging supernatural with Jared and Beth as well as playing monopoly.

Oh that was how you all showed your awful sides. Of course Jensen was sweet at times during the game but not always. Then it was the night before the wedding, this was to be the night that you would supposed to present your feelings out loud to Jensen.

you and Beth were getting ready to leave, Beth making sure that she had everything for the both of you to have an amazing evening as well as get the article done and the photos and everything else.

Beth: “are you sure you should still go and cover the wedding...”

YN: “im not gonna let these LA snakes get away with blackmailing me i need to do this... i need to prove that i cant be scared so easily. plus if i dont go tonight i wont probably get another chance to tell Jensen how i truly feel. now do you have everything?”

Beth: “yes i have the bags, the camera, the spare camera, and everything else that i think we will possibly need for tonight. dont worry girl, jensen misha Jared and everyone else will be there to safe guard you from the horrible snakes. now lets go. Jared is downstairs with Jensen in the car.”

You both head down the elevator and smile alot, the dresses you both now wore flowing with each graceful step you both took.

The car became into view, Jensen and Jared were waiting to help you both into the vhicle...

Jensen: “my god you girls look fantastic. YN lets kick some reporter ass...”

YN: “exactly. now lets go this...”

Beth and Jared look at the way you and Jensen are with eachother and come up with a brilliant idea...

beth: “fake it... guys you already act like a couple so take it a step further fake date fake being a couple at the wedding only a few of us will know the truth but the others will have no idea that its fake. the fact that the times already thinks you a couple, so why not trick them into thinking they were right.”

you and Jensen agreed, for the sake of your sanity and your job you had to sell this fake reality of you and Jensen as a couple, also it might be the easiest way to confess your feelings to Jensen...

jensen: “im game, if it means getting those la snakes to back the fuck off..”

YN: “absolutely. plus it will make one hell of a bonus article. and for once i would be in the news instead of reporting it... beth could write the article...”

Beth: “it would be an honor. how long till we arrive at the site of the wedding...”

Jared: “about 10 minutes.”

Jensen: “how bout when we walk up we pose some romanitic photos let them chew it all up, then when its right we tell them this rivalry is over... but kinda want to make sure tonight is as realistic as possible.”

YN: “but of course we will do what we can to make tonight real.”

the car stops and you look out the window...

YN: “i am so scared of this, but there is a massive part of me thats like this is gonna be the best end to the rivalry i could have ever asked for. now lets kick some la snake ass!”

Jensen opens the door and steps out first, Jared follows then Jensen holds his hand out to you which you graciously accept. the press begins to have a field day, they begin to snap photos and try to get quotes from both you and Jensen.

Jared and Beth are right behind you. all of you stopping every so often for photos but not talking to the press, that would be for later.

Jared and jensen led both you and Beth to the back where Misha and Victoria were Beth put her bag for you and her back there as the song started.

The people gathered in their seats. You guys filled Misha and vic in on the plan. the ceremony started, the music played Jared and Beth went down the aisle first, Beth stood on the brides side while jared stood on the grooms side.

Jared: “hey how do those LA snakes look?”

Beth takes a small glance at them...

Beth: “they are chattering amongst themselves. their photographer is also itching to take more phtoos of Jensen and YN... do you think this is gonna work?”

Jared: “as long as everyone else does their part, there will be victory for us this day!”

the processional continued with you and jensen coming down the aisle. the camera lights flashing many many times. you and Jensen split to your seperate sections as the song changed.

Misha came out first and stood to the left of jensen. then victoria came out a few moments later. her walk up the aisle turned many heads. you had set up 2 tri pods that were catching the photos on your press of a button.

this article on the wedding would be amazing! Your heart begins racing a thousand miles a minute, beth hiddenly puts her calming hand on the small of your back... there was a huge pit in your stomach, you didnt know why but there wasnt alot else to say about that.

Priest: “i now pronounce you husband and Wife. Misha you may now kiss your bride...”

you go into happy mode as the wedding ceremony finishes, misha and victoria exit the ceremony hall back to the starting room with you jensen jared and beth behind them.

Misha: "i cant believe that just happened. Jensen YN we are very impressed with how you both are pulling this off... “

YN: “thank you but i am very very shakey right now i need to breathe.”

Jensen watches as you go to the window and stand there... he then turns back to the others...

Jensen: “guys we need to divide and conquer... during the speeches tonight i will confess my love to YN, and when i do she will realize that my feelings are as real as hers... yes i know her feelings are real... i have been noticing the signs... tonight not only do we take down those LA snakes but i also confess something alot larger than any of us know.. the power of true love.”

Beth: “let me go see how YN is doing i have known her for well ever and she does well under most pressure but this is breaking point. she needs the right kind of comfort... we have been through many of these through the years of reporting and its always the LA snakes that set it off... now lets see if i can coax her out of the corner.”

Beth went over to you, she didn't want you to feel alone. But she wanted to make sure you were okay.

Beth: "you okay girl."

YN: "no the way those snakes were looking at me was nerve wrecking. I have never been the news in this way before. I am scared they can't be allowed to get my rep down the bad way."

Beth: "and you think this plan of yours is gonna work out for the best?"

YN: “it has to, i have to show the world that i am no one to be triffled with, i have to make them regret messing with me, i have to show the world that i am no longer the same mild reporter who started covering weddings all those years ago. i have to show the world who i belong too. Jensen is the one. he is the one that i want to spend the rest of my life with. i just hope that he feels it too.”

Beth gave you a side hug. this is your best friend, the one person who you can count on. pretty easily i may add. anyway, you and Beth walked back to the wedding party. 

Jensen: “ready to go mingle the press... eevryone know the plan?”

everyone nods, Jensen takes your hand followed by Beth and Jared walking out to greet the crowd. ignoring the press for now you all mingle with the different guests, the press just turn their noses, the tripods still doing their jobs, oh man was Beth gonna be surprised at all the amazing photos. also great for a photo album. 

YN: “just be prepared for anything. me and Beth went round and set up some tripods, controlled by the touch of a button, that Beth will have control of right now. i have 1 particular shot that i feel might get those snakes to reer their ugly mugs... just dont let me fall..”

Jensen: “im down, besides i would never let you fall.”

you, Jensen, beth and Jared all greeting guests and smiling photographers taking photos or at least trying to, but something kept making them blury. oh ya it was the extra flashes that you and Beth had installed. 

Jared stepped away from you all for a moment to go to the podium.

Jared: “thank you all for coming out, the wedding party myself included would like to thank you all in honor of the bride and Grooom for coming out to this momentus occasion. the bride and Groom will make their appearance again shortly but first things first every please find somewhere to sit, make yourselves comfortable. and ill be back up here shortly to introduce the wedding party including myself as sooon as i get the okay. now find your seat!”

while everyone made their ways to their seats, you Jensen and Beth were waiting by the wedding party  entrance.Jared came back and smiled standing by Beth. 

Beth: “how did those snakes look?”

Jared: “they looked positively pissed that they havent gotten any good shots of YN and Jensen. something about the flashes or something like that. i have no idea. honestly im gonna be happy if this plan works. so when it comes time for the speeches, obviously Misha and Vic will go last, jensen and YN will go second ill go up with Beth first... once everyone is seated that is...”

looking at all the people now fully seated there were so many feelings swirling inside you. but about 99.9% of those feelings were nerves, the nerves of what was about to happen. 

Jensen: “your gonna do amazing, just keep calm and know im not gonna let you fall. do not let these snakes get the better of you.”

YN: “i know. i just hope they don’t come out of this trapsing my name more through the mud and flushing my career further down the toilet. i cant begin to describe how i am feeling at the moment, i just want you to know that whatever happens out there, whatever is said, i want you to know that everything is the truth.”

Jensen smiled as Jared and Beth walked up to the podium as jared began to speak once more.

Jared: “whats good guys! i am Jared Padalecki groomsman to the groom, this lovely lady beside me is Beth Larsen bridesmaid to the bride. now the maid of honor and the best man are yet to appear but before they do let me introduce us a little bit. so i have known Misha for well several years now, our friendship became instant. when Misha got engaged both me and Jensen the best man, immediately threw him a bunch of parties, all 4 of us jumping immediately into wedding planning. we had our own ideals, we had alot of fun planning and putting all thought and soul into this special day. this is a day of memories, this is a momentous occassin that i am sure will go down in history as a wonderful wedding for the ages. now i am proud to introduce the wonderful Best Man and the even more lovely maid of honor, please put your hands together for Jensen and YN!”

the crowd went nuts, the photographers took photos and notes as you and Jensen walked up on stage together. standing at the podium side by side jensen speaks first. 

Jensen: “thanks Jared for that awesome introduction. whats up Los Angelos!!! i am Jensen Ackles, the best man and Misha’s other best friend. when i heard Misha was getting married i was eccstatic. he was achieving the thing i want most in this world. is to be happy, to love and be loved in return. and in my own way i think ive found it.”

YN: “hey everyone, most of you reporters know me but for those that need a name to the face, my name is YN. my life is not always this glamorous. i cover weddings for a living. since this year began i have been on vacation met some new friends and happily i can announce that i think i’ve fallen in love. for these last few years i have been persecuted by one particular news group the LA times are blackmailing me, but i am here to tell you that i have to confess that this entire trip to LA has been mostly spent locked away in my hotel room. i had friends surrounding me, but you LA snakes do not scare me but you need to be scared of me. for everything that you guys are doing right now is being recorded, photos are being captured the credit for the article that will cover this wedding for my news paper forum goes to my best friend beth larsen. she has gotten every single moment and i hope she catches this one too.”

thats when you turn to jensen and smile as you hold both his hands in your own before continuing to speak.

YN: “7 and a half months ago, jensen walked into my life. literally. but our story was not too end there, what started out as embarrassing now comes round full circle. i know that this life isnt easy, and this is definately gonna drag my name through every single news board in the world. but Jensen i love you! its time i stop trying to fool myself by denying my feelings and just come out and say it. this is really sudden but will you consider coming back home with me and Beth once we are done here?”

Jensen looked at you like you were a completely different person, someone he knew but didnt know. someone who he knew he was meant to be with for eternity to come.

Jensen: “well as my flight is with Jared and seeing as though he seems pretty cozy with beth im gonna say yes i would be honored to come back home with you. YN i love you too. i just didnt know if you felt the same way. now as sure as i am standing here i know you are the one i want by my side always and forever.”

thats when he spun you round and kissed you, the passion bringing camera flashes from all across the room. the rest of the party reception thing was a blurr, the one thing that you and Jensen remmebered was the confessions you both had made. that was something neither of you would forget anytime soon. 

~to be continued~

[sabraeal]

Meet Cute

Part of The Wide Florida Bay, written for @notesintheflyleaf for winning4th place in my 500 Followers Raffle! She has no specific request, so I thought I should start at the beginning: this should be the official first chapter of Nothing Was My Own (Before I Loved You)!

Exhaustion is almost an asset at this point; the figure in front of her blurs, and suddenly the progression from gill arches to jaws seems plausible. Shirayuki rubs her eyes, crusty sleep seeds skittering onto her keyboard, and tries to focus. She’s only had a week worth of classes with Garrack, but she knows she’ll have to be able to draw this on the test. From memory.

“Well.” Shirayuki startles, back protesting as she twists, nearly curving it around her chair to get a glance at the door. “You’re up at an ungodly hour.”

She lets out a sigh, shoulders collapsing over her ribs. It’s-- it’s just Kihal, impossibly fluffy robe wrapped tight around her, eyebrow lifted in an elegant arch. Her roommate.

It’s hard to get used to this, to having someone around, sleeping less than a full Mitsuhide away. Someone who comes and goes from the room like any normal person would, because this is a normal college experience, having a roommate, not one that should send her scrabbling for the nearest exit.

She’d had one before, back in Freshman year. It’s just...different now.

The scent of vanilla clings to the air, along with that pleasant ozone-y scent water gets from a spray, and it’s all just-- distracting. Shirayuki’s not sure when she forgot how to live with someone, but it certainly doesn’t help that the curtain over Kihal’s cubby is gauzy, so when she slips back there she’s backlit like a cell straight out of Chicago.

She’s not shy-- she spent half her summers skinny dipping in the local pond -- but still, it’s weird to know someone is just...casually naked six feet away.

Isn’t it? Shirayuki grips her desk, the edge biting into the pads of her knuckles. It would be nice if she felt like she knew how to people anymore.

“It’s only seven.” She winces as the words come out. Too terse. Too defensive. “I just-- I feel like I have so much to catch up on.”

Kihal barks out a laugh. “That’s fair. If I showed up almost a month into the semester, I’d probably burst into flames with all the catch up.”

That’s an understatement, to say the least. It’d be bad enough being two weeks behind, but with-- with Raj, and her bus ride north, and the whirlwind transfer to Clarines, and then Mihaya, it’s just--

A lot. But it’s the sort of a lot that doesn’t just fall into someone’s lap like this, the sort of a lot that you have to grab with both hands before it fades away, and--

She rubs her head. That’s not helping.

Kihal pokes her head out from behind the curtain, hair falling in a solid sheet. Her scalp tingles looking at it, remembering the weight of her own hair, like some sort of phantom limb. It’s still weird to comb her hair and feel it just end, but-- well, she’d miss it more if it behaved like Kihal’s. As it is, she’s just glad it isn’t here to frizz in the humidity of the dorms.

“How late were you up last night?”

Shirayuki blinks. It was two when she woke up, drool pooling on her keyboard, and rolled herself into bed. She doesn’t remember much before that. “Not...very?”

Kihal’s brows collapse beneath the weight of her skepticism. “Uh-huh. Come on, let’s go.”

Shirayuki stares, frozen, helplessly watching as Kihal slides into a pair of flats, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Go?”

“Yeah.” She turns her chin over her shoulder, flashing her a sly smile. “This is the sort of situation that calls for coffee.”

Shirayuki isn’t sure exactly what Kihal’s situation is; she’s friends with Zen, after all-- or the closest you can come while still calling each other by your last names-- and from what she’s been able to piece together, she’d been living in that double like it was a single since the beginning of the semester, not a hint of another roommate in sight.

On top of that, she walks with the same sort of confidence as Kiki, the kind that has Shirayuki taking two steps to her one, like she’s a corgi keeping pace with a greyhound and, well-- Shirayuki’s never thought about her friends’ net worth before, not when she’d lived so far out from town it took an hour bus ride to get her to school, but-- there’s few people on this planet with the sort of money the Seirans have.

She shakes her head. It doesn’t matter, not when they don’t use it like some people do.

“So this is, um--” she fumbles for words, breathless-- “a coffee shop?”

“A cafe, yeah.” Kihal barely glances back, but her gait slows, letting her keep pace. “It’s student run place. Super cute. You’ll love it.”

Shirayuki practically has to bite her tongue. “Is it...just coffee?”

“Nah. There’s tea too. And maybe some juice?” She lifts her shoulder, the strap of her tank top slipping to the cusp of it. “There’s food too. The bagels are amazing.”

Her stomach gurgles at the though at the same time her bank account aches. Food sounds great right now, but--

“You have flex points, right?”

She blinks. “I...don’t know? Is that with your student ID, or..?”

“It’s with your meal plan.” Kihal explains it’s like it’s old hat, like it’s something everyone knows, and Shirayuki can only think about how she’d spent her last two lunches trying to get a card that worked in the reader, let alone thinking about any of this. “You can use one of your meal swipes and buy something under ten bucks.”

“Oh, um.” She’d hardly looked at the options past ‘three meals a day,’ and even that had cut deep. “I don’t think--”

Kihal waves a hand. “Whatever, don’t worry. I have you.”

It’s stupid how her eyes sting, just at that. I have you. “Are you sure? I can pay you back--”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Kihal turns to her with a wink. “If anyone deserves to be treated, it’s you.”

“No, that’s--”

Could be fun, keeping you for a while. Even now, just thinking of that grin sends chills down her spine. Right, Red?

Shirayuki lets her mouth shut with a click. “Yeah,” she decides, finally, “I guess I really do.”

Freshman year, Shirayuki had made this mistake of taking a philosophy course as a gen ed, spending a whole semester trying not to nod off as a man expounded upon the thoughts of other men, most of whom had been financially solvent enough to have servants take care of them while they entertained their lofty theories. It had been almost as much of a disaster as her art history class, but she’d persevered, eking out an A- by the end of the course.

Still, when her professor had spouted off truisms like freedom is the burden of choice, it had taken all of her compassion for humanity as a whole to keep from rolling her eyes.

But right now, staring at the eight chalkboards covered in cramped cursive, she almost wants to email him an apology. This amount of choice is oppressive.

“Do you know what you want?”

There’s so many options, she can hardly remember her own name. “Ah, it’s only...there’s so much to choose from.”

Kihal raises a brow, mouth curving to match. “What? You don’t know how you take your coffee?”

“Oh, well, you see--” her feet shuffle under her, toes scuffing at the tile-- “I don’t really, ah...drink coffee.”

Shirayuki braces herself for the blank stare, for the dismayed frown that comes right before, what sort of person doesn’t drink coffee? She’d heard it enough last year, floormates peeling away in the morning before she could get a word in edgewise.

But Kihal only laughs, shaking her head. “And you, what? Just let me take you to a coffee place?”

It’s infectious; as soon as she starts to giggle, Shirayuki does too, and soon she’s covering her face, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Well,” she manages, breathless, “they usually have hot cocoa.”

“They do,” Kihal agrees, nodding her head at the counter. “And once it rolls around to October, they start selling hot cider too. The local stuff.”

“Ohhh.” Her mouth waters just thinking about it. “That sounds good.”

“We’ll come back,” Kihal promises, elbowing into line. “But I promise the cocoa will tide you over for now.”

We’ll come back. Shirayuki’s hands tighten around her satchel. “Right. Sounds good.”

“Large Iced Mocha?” the barista calls out from behind the counter. “For--” he squints, tilting the cup-- “Kyle?”

Kihal rolls her eyes, plucking off a cinnamon chip from her muffin. “I think that’s me.”

His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to suss out whether she’s really Kyle enough, and then shrugs. “Enjoy.”

She takes a sip and nods. “Mm, yes, definitely me.” She holds up a hand, keeping him right at the bar. “Do you know when my friend’s hot cocoa will be out?”

He blinks, giving her a careless shrug. “I dunno. A few minutes? We didn’t really have the machine set up.”

Kihal stares, mouth pulling long. “It’s just some hot milk. You’re making lattes already.”

“I don’t make the rules, lady,” he tells her, and Shirayuki practically trips trying to catch Kihal’s arm before she can really make a scene.

“It’s fine,” she tells her, bagel gripped so tight in her hands the cream cheese oozes out. Ah, she should ask for some napkins. “This happens a lot. I can wait.”

Kihal hesitates, throwing one last glare over her shoulder at the barista, and backs down. “All right. I’ll go grab us some seats, okay?”

Shirayuki nods. “Sure. I’ll be over when, ah...”

The barista has stopped making drinks, instead holding out his phone to a coworker with a laugh. Kihal lets out a long sigh. “You’ll be over when you’re over.”

Shirayuki watches as he pulls the phone back, as he mouths, wait you gotta see this too, and grimaces. “Yeah, something like that.”

It’s not the first time she’s had to wait for a cocoa-- she’s not precisely sure what the mechanics are behind running a coffee shop, but it seems cocoa and coffee are two streams that can never cross-- but it still feels like forever as she’s standing there, wondering whether they’ve even started to work on it. At this rate, Kihal will be finished before she even gets a sip in, and she’ll have to just...wait there, watching her as she eats.

“--Sharon?” A barista calls out, holding out a small cup . “With a y?”

“Oh!” She squeezes up to the counter. “I think that’s me?”

She looks down at her, impassive, and puts the cup in her hands. “Okay, cool.”

It burns her fingertips, and it takes her a full second, staring dumbly at her hand, to realize there were nice cardboard holders on the bar, just for that reason.

“Wait!” she yelps, fumbling to open one around the bottom of her cup. “Do you have, um, napkins?”

The barista blinks slowly, pointing over her shoulder. “Uh. Drink station.”

“Oh!” Shirayuki whips around, catching the small table of straws and stirrers, flanked by a row of dispensers. “Thank--”

She’s already gone. “--you?”

Shirayuki heaves a sigh. Mrs Kino always said New Englanders were a little cold.

Turning on her heel, she bee-lines for the drink station, napkins on her mind--

Only to run smack dab into a wall.

A very warm wall. A very warm wall that laughs, hands banding around her arms to steady her.

“Careful there, Miss,” it says, “don’t want to have an accident, now do we?”

She settles back on her heels, gaze dragging up-- and up-- until it catches on a hooked grin, canines peeking out from behind a crooked lip. “N-no, of course not. Sorry, I wasn’t--” her eyes pulse wide as she realizes she’s still holding the cup, that it could have spilled-- “did I get any on you? Are you all right? Where are you burned?”

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling, rucking up the scar that winks over one eye. “Don’t worry. No harm done.” His smile curves into a smirk. “Though you’re welcome to check if you like.”

Shirayuki nearly reaches out, nearly takes the invitation, but he takes a step back, hands dropping from her shoulders.

“That’s me,” he says, and it takes her a minute to realize the barista is holding another small cup over the bar, waiting. “Watch yourself, Miss.”

She stands, brows furrowed, watching him wade through the crowd. Watch yourself. It’s a normal thing to say, but still--

She can’t shake how much it sounds like a warning.

“Sorry!” Shirayuki slaps down a fistful of napkins, licking cream cheese off the webbing between her thumb and finger. “There were so many people over there.”

It’s a bit of a jump to get up on the stools-- she can’t wait for this high table trend to end-- and her foot nearly misses the rung with Kihal asks, “Did you get his number?”

She blinks, hoisting herself onto the seat. It swivels threateningly beneath her. “Whose number?”

Kihal raises both eyebrows, incredulous. “Uh, the gorgeous guy you were talking to?”

“Who?”

She sighs. “Tall, tanned, had biceps made for putting your mouth on?”

Shirayuki stares. She wasn’t aware that’s what one did with biceps. It seems like a bad time to ask if it’s hyperbole.

“You nearly ran him over?” Kihal ventures, jerking her head toward the counter.

“Oh!” Tall seemed fair, and tan, but she hadn’t, um, speculated about the mouthfeel of his muscles.“No. I just-- I asked if I’d hurt him, he said no, and then he got his drink.”

Kihal tips back her head, casting a helpless glance at the ceiling. “Shirayuki.”

“There wasn’t anything else to it.” She casts a curious glance over her shoulder, but it’s no good, it looks like Mysterious Man has come and gone. “Was he really--?”

“Hot? Extremely.” Kihal’s mouth curves slyly. “I know you and Wisteria have something going on, but you can look at other guys, you know.”

Her cheeks flush, which is-- it’s stupid, because there isn’t any reason to it. “We don’t have anything, we’re just...friends.”

Kihal gives her a dubious look. “Mm-hm. Well, all the more reason to look, then. Especially when tall, dark and handsome seems to be chummy with the barista. Maybe you can score us some free coffee.”

Shirayuki frowns. “I don’t really think talking to someone to get free stuff is--”

“Also, he looks like a good kisser.”

Ethical gets stuck in in her throat, and she blindly grasps for her cup, taking a sip to wash it out--

And nearly spits it out.

Kihal stares. “Are you okay?”

She grimaces, edging the cup away. “This is not cocoa.”

Kihal’s brows furrow, and she scoops it up, taking a sip. “Ugh, this isn’t even mocha. It’s like, half-cocoa, half-espresso.”

Whatever it is, the taste lingers bitterly in her mouth. “Do people drink that?”

“No.” Kihal’s mouth tilts, coy. “Too bad Hot Guy isn’t around to talk to his friend for you.”

“It’s fine,” she wheezes, sliding off the chair, “I can just--”

“No, no.” Kihal snags the drink from her. “I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I couldn’t--”

“Hey.” She holds up a hand, mouth spread in a grin. “I paid for it, I deal with it. you enjoy your food. Besides,” she waggles her eyebrows, “now I can go find out more about your boyfriend.”

[rinthehufflepuff]

Agent M pt. 4

Parings: Clintasha x Reader

Summary: You’ve been on the run for four years, never staying in one place too long, until you stumble across an abandoned house that seems the perfect place to bunker down in for the winter.  Just as you’re getting comfortable, however, and the seasons start to change, the homeowners appear and they are far different from anything you could have expected.  

Warnings: Language, guns, blood, panic

Series Masterlist

You were on edge all day.  After another night of no sleep - you had instead spent the night doing odd jobs around the house that you deemed quiet enough to not wake Clint and Natasha - you were exhausted, but the buzz of machinery kept you awake as it always did.  There wasn’t anything wrong at work, you had gotten a small pay increase from Mr. Wormwood, who owned the garage, and the rest of the workers had fully accepted that you were shy but good at your job - better than the rest of them and able to fix anything they threw at you.  No, what had you jumpy was the white Ford Crown Victoria with a black stripe and large red letters clearly spelling out who owned the car.  

Thus far, you had managed to avoid the police.  Living in the woods meant you saw them every once in a while when you came across a road, but you hadn’t come in contact with an officer in four years.  You do your best to not fidget too much, but once the garage closes, you know you can’t ride home on the road.  The police car is still parked just down the road.  You get the distinct impression it’s waiting for you.

You’re relieved that the garage sits on the edge of the woods and that you park your bike in the back.  With one last look at the cruiser, you begin the long walk through the woods with your bike at your side.  You had scouted the area several months ago when you first came upon the town, but with the trees and other vegetation thriving and green in the summer heat, you were having trouble picking your way towards the house.  You spent hours just wandering, careful to not stray towards where you thought the road was in case there were cars patrolling for you.  

You had to leave.  You had to pack your bag and run as far away as you could.  You shouldn’t have stayed once winter broke.  You had been stupid, so very stupid.  Of course, he would find you.

It’s nearly dark by the time you know where you are, the house just visible through the trees and you sigh in relief.  Then the shot of a gun.  A dog barking.  Angry yelling.  For a split second, you freeze.  Then, you’re running, crashing through the trees and bushes and overgrown grass.  The river.  You had to make it to the river!  Panic and adrenaline surge through you as they hadn’t in years, not since you were spotted in Alabama.  You can’t be bothered to try and be silent as you move because the dogs could catch you anyway.  They could scent you now that they had been to the house.  The river would help, the moving water would help mask your smell and they might lose you.  

When you finally reach the river, you throw yourself into the mud and roll, doing your best to completely cover yourself in the muck.  Only when you are satisfied that every inch of you is coated in mud do you wade into the river and let yourself drift downstream, careful to keep your head above the water to watch the banks and listen for movement.  You can’t gauge how long you’ve been floating, but the sun has been gone for a long time and the cool night air has fully settled.  Knowing you couldn’t use the river all night, you make your way to the bank and search for a place to hunker down for the night.  What you end up finding is a fallen tree.  Though it’s long since dead, you know you can use the branches and the surrounding vegetation to help camouflage yourself.

You don’t sleep the whole night, terror fuelling you rather than mechanics.  Every small noise makes you shrink into the grass and hold your breath.  The cool night air is made worse by your wet clothes and hair and the mud caked to your skin.  You can’t stand the cold, but you know you have no other choice.  You couldn’t be caught.

><><><><><

Y/N wasn’t home.  Clint had taken Natasha to the store to get whatever it was she needed for okroshka soup - another Russian dish she insisted on making for Y/N since you enjoyed it when she made food from her homeland.  Except, Natasha hadn’t been able to find everything so they ended up getting sausages and peppers to grill since it was getting late and they were sure you were wondering where they were.  When he pulled up to the house, however, you were nowhere to be seen.  He searched the barn first, then your room and the roof since you liked laying on the shingles and read whatever Natasha had “accidentally” left lying around the house.  The bike you took to work, his old bike he would take into town when he was going alone and didn’t want to drive, wasn’t near the porch either.  

It is seven forty-five when a police cruiser pulls into the driveway and Clint can’t help but think about that first day.  How you pleaded with him to not call the authorities.  The panic so plane in your eyes that he would have done anything you asked at that moment.  He doesn’t want to go out to investigate, but Natasha is scouring the woods nearby on the off chance you had decided to explore the property like he had suggested you do not too long ago.  

“Can I help you,” Clint asks, Lucky at his side.  The dog was just as antsy as he was, pawing at the ground and looking around.

“I sure hope so,” the officer smiles, but it’s tight and his eyes aren’t focussed on Clint.  His hand is already resting on his gun.  “I’m looking for a woman.  About Y/H tall, H/C hair, E/C eyes, pretty scared up with a small tattoo on her left hand that looks like a C with two lines on the bottom curve.  She’s currently wanted in connection with a gang shooting in Florida a few weeks ago.”

Lies.  Even without the timing being wrong, Clint can feel the lies wash over him and it pisses him off.    

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Clint shrugged.  Lucky growled at his side and the officer narrows his eyes.  “Haven’t seen you around here, you new?”  When the officer doesn’t answer Clint glances around the area thinking you had popped out of nowhere, but he’s still alone with the officer and Lucky.  “Look, I’m going to need to see your badge, man.  I don’t know you and you’re awful edgy for someone just looking for some woman.”

“No.”  The brisk response sets him off and he gives Lucky the command to get Natasha.  In the split-second Lucky begins to move, the officer draws his gun and fires, just barely missing the retriever as he dashed to the side and begins to bark for the Russian.  

“The fuck, man?  Who the hell shoots a half-blind dog?”  Clint can’t help but yell.  You aren’t here to get scared over the noise so it doesn’t matter.  If anything, yelling would just make Natasha get to him sooner.

“You’re the one harboring-”

“I suggest you leave before I have to do something you won’t have enough time to regret.”  Natasha is at his side, gun drawn and her eyes trained on the officer.  “Now!”  It’s nothing less than an order and though the officer looks like he wants to shoot them both, he slowly backs up to his car and leaves.  

“Did you find her,” Clint asked, his hand buried in Lucky’s fur for comfort.  Clint knew the local police, knew they wouldn’t ever come to his property without calling ahead because they were under the impression Clint was with the Feds.  Whoever that was wasn’t any of the local guys - and he was looking for you.

“Thought I saw some movement on my way over here, but you were my priority,” Natasha sighs.  “We should check it out now though, especially since she isn’t answering her phone…”

Clint doesn’t like the edge in Natasha’s voice, not at all.  You were quiet, eerily so at times as you crept about as if you, yourself, were also a spy, but you had grown on the agents within days.  After Clint’s two weeks away, Natasha had seemed so much closer with you, more attentive and relaxed.  Clint knew whatever had happened while he was gone had created a severe attachment for his girlfriend.  But then there was the issue of how once he had come back you didn’t seem to sleep.  Dark circles had started appearing beneath your large, E/C eyes that made Natasha shift and steal glances at you and make more coffee than she normally would - even with Clint’s caffeine habit.  He could hear you in the dead of night as you shuffled and grumbled as you made your way past their room to go work on some meaningless project to keep yourself awake.  Something was upsetting you and now you were missing.  

“You should go check it out, just take Lucky with you.  I’m going to call the station and see what was up with rent-a-cop,” Clint huffed, scanning the tree line.  If Natasha had seen you, if you had tried to come back to them, you were either long gone or curled up nearby.  He could only hope it was the latter option.

><><><><><

Natasha felt numb.  The bike - your bike - was abandoned in a bush just a few yards into the treeline.  You had been here.  Leading away from the bike was a trail of broken foliage that Lucky followed, his nose pressed to the ground, leading to the river where you liked to fish.  Even in the dim light, she could make out a large disruption in the bank, the muddy indent just the right size to have been created by a person.  By you.  Swearing, Natasha pulled out her phone and called Clint.  If you had bailed into the river...well the evenings were getting cooler and Natasha’s mind still rung with your words from all those nights ago.  You wouldn’t be in your right mind to begin with and the cool evening air was going to make everything worse.

If you didn’t get tired out from trying to keep afloat in the current and drown.  Natasha did her best to push that line of thought out of her mind.

“Nat?  You there?”

“Yeah...I’m here,” Natasha replied, making her way down the river a bit.  You wouldn’t have tried to swim upstream.  “I’m ninety percent sure she was nearby when the gunshot went off.  It looks like she panicked and jumped into the river - she went full stealth too, I found a pretty good hole in the mud that looked like someone had rolled in it.”

“D’you think she went far?”

“Can’t have, at least not too far.  Clint, she’s gotta be terrified out here, and it’s almost dark.  We can’t...I can’t…”

“Stay where you are and I will meet you with flashlights and a medkit.  I’ll call the garage and leave a message so they know Y/N won’t be in for the next few days.  We’ll find her Nat.  We’ll get Y/N home and we can talk this all out and help her.”

Natasha wanted to believe him when Clint said that they would find you - that you would come home and she could help you and that you would be alright.  But she knew there was every chance that that wouldn’t happen.  Over the years, Natasha had seen too much.  Too much violence, too much fear and panic and hate, too much bad - and those experiences made it just that much harder to believe the man who had saved her all those years ago.  Still, she would look for you - wouldn’t let her darker thoughts stop her from searching all through the night and into the next day to find you.

The pair searched for hours, Clint having swum his way across the river so that they could search both banks and the surrounding areas.  Everywhere they looked, they saw you - washed up on the bank, crouched behind bushes and in the tall grass, even hidden in the branches of trees.  They had been trained to track people, S.H.I.E.L.D and the Red Room had both required extensive training for just this purpose, but Natasha wasn’t an expert tracker and neither was Clint.  This, unfortunately, meant that they were much slower than they wanted to be.  

Clint was sure you would have gotten out of the water at some point.  You would have gotten tired and needed to hunker down for the night, but Natasha was constantly watching the surface and the fallen trees with branches that were bound to cling to debris.  Her stomach twisted every time she thought she saw you tangled in those branches, limp and beyond her reach.

Without warning, just as the sky began to lighten, Lucky took off into the brush, tail high and ears perked.  Natasha wasn’t far behind, careful to be quiet even though the light would alert you if you were awake.

><><><><><

You couldn’t be sure when you passed out.  Somewhere during the night, you had heard several male voices, and in a panic, you had tried to change hiding spots.  Except they saw you.  Muted gunshots echoed in your ears as you had broken into a sprint to the river, sure that if you could throw yourself into the current you would have a chance of getting away.  Just at the edge, though, another shot rang out and you felt a familiar explosion of pain in your side.  You didn't have time to stop and try to staunch the bleeding, to feel for an exit wound, as you flung yourself into the river and let yourself sink.  Only when your lungs were about to give out did you surface and let yourself drift for a while before dragging yourself out on what you hoped was the opposite bank.   As you lay in the mud, you felt your abdomen for the exit wound, sighing in relief when you found one.  You didn't want to risk running around with a bullet buried in you.  Forcing yourself into an upright position, you stripped off your shirt from beneath the grey jumpsuit you were still wearing from work and ripping it down the middle before tying it securely around where you hoped the wounds were.  It would have to be good enough because you couldn’t see and neither could you afford to stay on the bank any longer than you already had.  

Struggling to your feet, you pushed into the woods and away from the river, trying to strain your eyes in the darkness for a suitable place to hide.  Except it was pitch black and you couldn’t see anything.  You weren’t surprised when your ankle twisted under you and you tumbled into a small ditch.  Annoyed, yes, but at least you had a chance of being a little harder to spot.  Your ankle throbbed and your abdomen continued to radiate pain as you lay in near silence, straining to hear even the slightest noise, the tiniest indication of not being alone.  Except when you heard nothing except the wind and crickets, the burning behind your eyes finally got to be too much and you closed them.  Only for a minute, you had told yourself, just to ease the burning.  Except it wasn’t just a moment because you ended up passing out.  

You drifted in and out after that, not completely sure if you were awake or dreaming.  In the darkness, Lucky appeared, then Natasha, her face twisted into a grimace.  Then Clint was there and there were muffled sounds, maybe talking, but you couldn’t grasp anything more before you were swallowed by blackness again.  Pressure on your abdomen.  Stabs of pain at the slightest movement.  Swaying.  Nausea.  Soft warmth and running water.  Gentle whispers and soft fur.  Something vaguely sweet and floral.  Coffee.

The next time you were aware of anything beyond pain and darkness, you were warm and comfortable, though thoroughly disoriented.  For a moment, you panic.  They must have found you and hauled you away while you were weak from blood loss and exhaustion.  But that couldn't be what had happened, you were too comfortable.  The warm pressure on either side of you was relaxing, enough so that within seconds your eyes drifted closed again, any worry of having been found by the wrong people dissipating.

When you were finally lucid and fully awake, you realized where you were.  The familiar light blue walls of Clint and Natasha’s room were made softer by the early morning light coming through the sheer, white curtains that you and Natasha had found at a garage sale one day when you were running errands.  Shifting slightly, careful to not upset the dull throb in your abdomen and ankle, you could see Lucky sleeping at the foot of the bed with his stuffed lion between his paws and Clint curled up in a chair in the far corner, fast asleep.

Since he had gotten back, you had made a conscious effort to talk to him more outside of meals and house repairs.  Clint was nice, as you had always known, but you learned it was a niceness born out of genuine kindness rather than wanting something out of you.  He kept his distance most of the time, careful to not be too close or too loud even though you knew he would normally do both because you saw him do it with nearly everyone else he met.  As a result, you had gotten more comfortable around Clint, not freezing up whenever he walked into a room or tried to strike up a conversation.  You had made the effort partially because Natasha trusted him and you trusted Natasha, but also because you felt guilty for taking advantage of his offer to stay in his home and then avoiding him.  Now the guilt was even worse.  

Rule five - you were supposed to call Clint or Natasha if you ever felt unsafe.

You hadn’t ever stopped to consider calling Clint or Natasha when you were at the garage.  Instead, you had taken forever to get home through the woods and then bolted at the first sign of danger instead of trusting that they would help.  That was another thing...you had very likely broken rule three and unintentionally brought unwanted company to the house - and then left Natasha and Clint to deal with the situation on their own.  You were supposed to trust them, but you had reverted to your old mindset at the first sign of danger.  Needless to say, the realization felt about as unpleasant as the gunshot wound.

And yet here you were, in their bed, as safe as you could possibly be with Him looking for you.  

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, Myshka.”  You turn to see Natasha slipping into the room with a steaming mug and a paper medicine cup, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I - I’m sorry I ran,” you sniffled.  “I should have called you when I was at work and then someone was here and it was probably the police and I know you don't want people here at the house but I-”

“Myshka, Y/N, it’s alright,” she soothed, sitting on her half of the bed and sipping at whatever she had brought up.  “We aren’t mad at you.  Worried, yeah - we were very worried when you weren’t home, and you just about gave Clint a heart attack when we realized you had been shot - but you’re here and you’re safe.  That’s all that matters to us, Myshka.”

“How did you even find me?  I know I wasn’t all that careful, but…”

“It’s part of our jobs,” Natasha shrugged, reaching over and gently running her fingers through your hair.  You, for the first time, realize that you aren’t covered in dried mud and that you are actually very clean, not to mention not in your own clothes.  You have no clue what you’re wearing in the way of pants, but you’re in a tank top - the first in many years - and your scars are exposed.  You feel completely naked, but it somehow doesn’t bother you as much as it should.  You could see Clint and Natasha’s scars all the time as they both had several, so you knew they wouldn’t think any different of you for having some too, but you had been so used to wearing long sleeves that it almost felt wrong to not be wearing them now.  Noticing you staring down at your arms, Natasha sighs.  “We had you get you clean, Y/N.  We didn’t want to risk any kind of infection.”

“It’s just...I don’t think I’ve looked at them in a while.  I try not to when I shower, and I’ve always got them covered with long sleeves...do - do you think they look bad?”

“Yeah,” Clint huffs, adjusting himself in the chair, “bad-ass.”

“You dork, that’s not what she meant,”  Natasha scoffs, but you can see she’s a little amused.  “They look fine, Y/N.  Honestly, they’re better than some of Clints.  There's one on his ass-”

“We are not talking about Budapest,” Clint yelped, waving his hands in front of him as if it would stop Natasha from talking about whatever happened.  For what felt like the first time in a long while, you huffed out a laugh.  Though, you immediately regretted it when your side aches in pain.

“Here, these’ll help,” Natasha said, handing you the medicine cup with four different pills in the bottom.  “We don’t normally have to break them out at home, but we use them all the time at work.”  

You felt horrible when you looked down at the small plastic cup and your stomach twisted at the sight of the pills.  You knew that Natasha wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you, having passed that stage a while ago, but you were still nervous.  Natasha wasn’t Him.  Clint wasn’t Him.  Even still, your first instinct was to tongue the pills and spit them out the first chance you got.  

Forcing down the nagging voices in the back of your head, you tip the cup back and swallow the pills dry.  Natasha gave you a small smile, and even Clint looked proud that you had taken the pills after only a small moment of hesitation.  You knew as well as they did that even just a few weeks ago you would have tried to avoid accepting the medication altogether.

“You’ll have to keep taking them for a while,” Clint sighs, the smile slipping away.  You realized almost immediately that you missed it.  “That wound in your side isn’t pretty, and it’s more than likely is gonna scar pretty bad, but we’ll try to do what we can to prevent the worst of it.  You did well though, Y/N, that shirt you had all tied up probably stopped you from bleeding out before we found you.”

“Well at least I managed to do something right,” you huffed.  “Shouldn’t’ve been shot in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,”  Natasha growls, and you can’t help but shrink into the bed and try to make yourself smaller.  The action does not go unnoticed by either Clint or Natasha, and the redhead is quick to begin carding her fingers through your hair again.  “I didn't mean it like that,” she sighed.  “I’m not mad at you, Y/N, I just…”

“We worry,” Clint said, getting up and sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed near your feet.  It was probably the closest you had ever been to him without flinching away.  “Natasha and I can’t help you if we don’t know what you need, Y/N.  Someone’s looking for you, and they were desperate enough to steal a police car and uniform to find you.  Y/N,”  Clint gently lay a hand on your uninjured ankle, the blankets keeping him from making actual skin contact, “please, let us help you.”

Glancing up at Natasha, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and lightly squeezes your shoulder.  You had been safe here for months and, at some point, the farm had turned into your home.  You had lost home a long time ago, but you remembered that home was the people around you, not necessarily a place.  

Natasha was home.  Her small, reserved smiles and twinkling eyes that seemed to know so much more than she let on made you feel warm and safe.  She was quiet and attentive, unobtrusive in her small gestures - food you enjoyed, an umbrella by the door when it might rain, small, barely-there touches in passing.

Clint was home, too.  This was harder to admit to yourself because he looked like Him in so many ways that for a while you had jumped every time you saw him.  But, somehow, Clint’s loud laugh and quirky sense of humor soothed your frayed nerves after long days of working.  His stubborn attempts at getting closer to you now endearing rather than frightening.   His clunky steps echoing in the house because he never remembered to take off his shoes were a distant reminder that you weren’t on your own anymore.  Where Natasha sent silent encouragement, Clint always seemed to be brimming with praise over the smallest acts.  

You trusted them.  Everything could go so unbelievably wrong in a split second - it was a constant threat that seemed even more real now - but you weren’t as scared as before.  They had followed after you - brought you home and kept you safe and warm and alive - when you had run at the sight of danger.

You didn’t want to lose this home.

You drew in a rattling breath glared at your arms.

“His name was James…”

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Who can you call?

On Ao3

Thanks to @caitlesshea and @el-gilliath for reading this over and helping me work out the kinks

1.

The first year, surprisingly, was the easiest. Fresh off of Rosa’s death and fleeing Roswell, Liz assumed that it would be the most painful year of her life and in some ways it was but in others, in the ways Liz expected, it really wasn’t.

For someone who had never been away from home before getting in her car and driving to California, she wasn’t homesick. Maybe it was the near constant communication with Maria and the regular check ins with her dad or even the pretty regular phone calls from Kyle, but she didn’t miss Roswell. She missed her sister, of course, and she missed seeing the people she loved, but she didn’t miss home. 

She thought the holidays would get to her but her dad came out to visit and they did some sightseeing in Southern California and it was good. It wasn’t their usual Christmas celebration but it was a new tradition. For all that they didn’t talk about Rosa, they felt her with them the whole time. 

So no, the first year wasn’t hard. 

The second year, however. Well, that was a different story.

She got through the summer okay. Maria came out to see her for a few days and she spent the rest of the time with her new college friends and it was good. 

If she missed Roswell a little bit, that was to be expected. If she missed a regular girls night out with Maria, well she could call her up. If she missed her dad, that was what Skype was for. 

At some point, she missed Roswell with an almost physical ache, though. And it was that point that she picked up the phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called since she left Roswell in her rear view mirror.

The phone rang. And rang. And then went to voicemail.

Liz hung up without leaving a message. She cradled her phone in her hands, staring at the front screen, practically daring it to ring.

It didn’t but that didn’t stop her from staring.

“Uh, Liz?” Her roommate asked.

Liz grunted in response. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

She heard her roommate start to say anything else but the phone started ringing and cut her off. Liz stared at it in amazement for long enough that it stopped ringing and beeped with a missed call.

She shook her head and quickly called back. As it rang she threw her legs over the side of the bed and fled the room for some privacy.

“Hello?”

Liz almost sobbed in relief at the voice. 

“Liz?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m here,” she assured. “Hi.”

There was a light chuckle. “Hi.”

Liz found a corner in the common room and crouched down behind an empty chair. There were other people in the room but she ignored them.

“I’m sorry to call out of the blue like this. I know it’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. I get it.”

Liz closed her eyes. “I’m really sorry. I should have-”

“Liz,” she stopped, “it’s okay. Really. What’s up?”

She sighed and rested her head on the wall. “I miss home. I don’t want to but I do.”

There was a pause. “So go home. I’m sure your dad would love to see you. Maria too.”

“I know. I would love to see them too, I just- I can’t. I just- I hate that place.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

Liz smiled. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

There was a loud sound on the other end followed by mild cursing.

“Shit, I have to go.”

“Oh ok,” Liz paused. “Could I-” she stopped.

“I’ll call you later? We can commiserate on the hellhole that is our hometown?”

Liz smiled. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Ok. Talk to you later, then. Bye, Liz.”

“Bye, Alex.”

2.

After that first phone call, they became far more regular. Both of them loved and missed Maria and talked to her regularly but there was something that the two of them shared that Maria just wouldn’t be able to understand. Neither of them really missed Roswell, per se, but there were times when they just really needed to talk to someone who would understand. Someone who grew up in that town and who got away. Neither really had any intention of ever going back, either, despite the fact that their fathers and Maria were there.

Sometimes Liz got the sense that Alex had something else in Roswell for him to go back for but he never talked about it and she didn’t push.

It wasn’t until Liz’s junior year that either one of them suggested meeting up in person. By that time, Liz had already transferred schools. She liked her school but she’d chosen it partly because Rosa had talked her into it and she still saw echoes of her sister around every corner. 

Alex had laughed at her when she told him she was transferring to a school on the east coast but she just ignored him. He told her that she wouldn’t be able to handle winter but Liz wanted a change of pace. She wanted to see the Atlantic, dip her toes in another ocean.

She loved it and she thrived (something she gleefully pointed out to Alex during one of their chats. He just laughed at her and told her he was happy for her). Right up until winter hit.

It snowed in New Mexico, okay? It wasn’t like she’d never seen snow or experienced the cold. But cold in New Mexico was not cold in Massachusetts. They were too very different beasts altogether. 

“You’re the one who decided to move to the Northeast.” Alex was entirely unsympathetic when she told him.

Liz stuck out her tongue at the phone. “Fall was wonderful, okay?”

“Fall isn’t winter.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Like your an expert in the seasons, Alex Manes. How’s Florida?”

“Hot,” Alex replied quickly. “Boring.”

“What the military’s not all fun and games?” She teased lightly. Alex’s military service was still something she didn’t understand but she knew enough to tread easy.

Alex hummed. “Nothing to do. Mandatory leave.”

Liz sat up in her bed. “You’re on leave?”

Alex hummed again. “I tried to switch with someone to cover them for the holidays but apparently I have to take leave.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t,” Alex admitted. “It’s just been accumulating and they told me I have to use some of it.”

Liz paused. “So what are you doing with all this free time you suddenly have?”

“Nothing.”

Liz arched an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

She could almost hear Alex shrug. “It’s Christmas, everyone I know has gone home to their families and like hell am I going back to Roswell so I’ve just been in my apartment.”

A smile slowly etched its way across her face. “Wanna take a trip?”

Alex paused. “Where?”

“Massachusetts.”

“What?” Alex laughed. “Is this you inviting me to visit?”

“Yup!” Liz told him. “Look, I’m not going home for Christmas either and my dad can’t afford the time or plane ticket to come all the way out here so it’s just me in my empty apartment for the next two weeks while my roommates are all at home. You should come up. That way we are slightly less pathetic for the holidays.”

Alex didn’t say anything for a beat. “I’d like that. I’d really-”

“Great!” Liz said brightly. “I’ll text you my address and you just come up whenever you want. I promise I’ll be here.”

Alex agreed and they hung up and Liz put the thought out of her mind. She loved Alex but she knew how much he valued the distance he’d gotten from Roswell and for all their phone calls, she was a reminder of Roswell. There was a greater than average chance that Alex wouldn’t ever show up.

The next day there was a knock at her door late at night. Liz eyed it warily from her spot curled up on the couch. With the school deserted for winter break, she didn’t know anyone in town and she hadn’t ordered anything. 

There was another knock. “Liz?” She heard Alex’s voice call tentatively. 

Liz kicked off her blankets and raced over to the door, sliding a bit in her socks. She unlocked the door and yanked it open to find Alex Manes standing outside. His hair was shorter than she’d ever seen it, the make up and the jewelry absent for the first time in years, his shoulders stiff, and his clothes neatly pressed. He looked nothing like her friend from high school and yet it was undeniably him. 

He shifted idly on his feet under her scrutiny and Liz had to smile. “You’re actually here,” she exclaimed softly as she stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around him. She heard a thud as his bag hit the floor when he hugged her back. They swayed back and forth for a few minutes, both reluctant to let go. 

Eventually, though, Liz pulled away. “Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Alex laughed but picked up his bag and followed her into the warmth.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Liz said again.

“You invited me,” Alex reminded her.

“I know and I’m super glad you came but I kind of thought you wouldn’t? I know you hate any reminders of Roswell.”

Alex ducked his head and smiled. “You’re not a reminder, Liz. You’re my friend.” 

Liz cooed and hugged him again. “Okay, you’re probably exhausted. I can grab some blankets and pillows and set you up on the couch.”

“I’m actually okay. The flight wasn’t too bad. I mean, if you’re ready to go to bed, then-”

Liz shook her head. “No, I was just watching TV.”

“Mind if I join?”

Liz nodded. “Yes, actually, I do.”

Alex nodded back solemnly. “I understand. Some shows are just sacred.” He picked up his bag. “I guess I’ll go home then.”

He got one step before they both started laughing. Liz pointed him to her bedroom to put his stuff down and change and then got resituated on the couch.

A few minutes later, Alex tucked himself under the blanket with her and they watched the show in silence. It was surprisingly comfortable. Liz had thought that there might be an awkwardness after so long apart but it was like they’d just seen each other yesterday. 

Alex stayed for almost two weeks, through Christmas and New Year’s, before heading back to Florida and it was the best two weeks Liz had spent in Massachusetts. That’s not to say that she hadn’t made any friends at school, she had, but there was something about the comfort of an old friend who understood you in ways you barely understood yourself.

3.

Her phone rang in the middle of her graduation ceremony, Alex’s name flashing brightly on the screen. Liz hurriedly sent him to voicemail before her (former) professor could do more than glare at her. 

She tucked her phone away and slouched in her seat as she looked around. Most of her peers were clearly zoned out as the speaker droned on but there were a few that actually seemed to be paying attention. Liz tuned back in for a few minutes before diverting her attention back to more interesting matters like counting the number of water stains on the ceiling. 

Why had she graduated from here? Oh yeah, because she needed to actually get a degree instead of bouncing around schools for fun. Liz rubbed at her eyes, mumbling an apology as her elbow jostled the girl next to her. Liz was reluctant to call her a friend, after all she’d only known her for a semester. The unfortunate by product of completing her undergrad in five years at three different schools was that she didn’t really have a chance to form lasting friendships. 

Most of the time that was fine with her, she didn’t need deep friendships really, she had Alex and Maria. Though it had been a while since she talked to Maria, she knew she could always count on her to be there if Liz needed her.

Her phone buzzed again. Liz frowned at Alex’s name and sent it to voicemail again.

[To: Alex]

I’m at graduation

[From: Alex]

Shit. Sorry. Call me later.

[From: Alex]

Congrats!

Liz huffed a quiet laugh at the delayed second text and put the phone away as her row stood up to walk across the stage. 

It was a while later, after the ceremony and the pictures with her dad and the few friends who asked, and after the celebratory dinner, and after the ice cream, that Liz remembered to call Alex back.

She waited until her dad was lying down in the hotel room before she pulled out her phone and dialed his number.

“Hey,” she greeted brightly when he connected. 

“Hey,” he returned, notably subdued compared to her. “How was graduation?”

Liz scoffed and flopped back onto the spare bed. “Boring. I should have skipped it but my dad wanted pictures so…”

“Well if Arturo wanted pictures-”

“Then Arturo gets his pictures,” Liz finished with a grin. “What’s up with you?”

Alex didn’t answer right away.

“Alex?” Liz sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m being deployed.”

Liz stilled. “Where? How long? When?”

“Afghanistan. Eight months. I leave in three weeks.” Liz let out a breath. 

“Eight months? Your first one was only three.”

“I know. They’re usually six so I guess it evens out or something, I don’t know.”

“You still in Oklahoma?” Liz asked. It was Alex’s new posting but she wasn’t sure if he was still there or if he had more training. He was always off somewhere doing more training.

“Yeah, I’ll be here until I deploy. Why?”

“Because I’m going to come visit, of course.”

“Liz, you don’t have to do that.”

“Shut up, yes I do. Besides, I just graduated and I have literally no idea what I’m going to do next. Might as well take a few days or whatever to come see you.”

Alex made a noise like he was going to keep arguing but eventually he just sighed. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Give me a few days to pack and drive and I’ll be there by the end of the week?”

“Sounds good.” Liz could almost hear his smile over the phone.

“You’ll have to take me to that ice cream place you were telling me about. Best shakes in Oklahoma right?”

Alex laughed. “That’s what they say. I still think the Crashdown’s are better.”

“You’re biased.”

“Yeah, I am. Tell your dad his shakes are better than the best in Oklahoma, okay?”

“I will. See you soon, Alex.”

“See you.”

Liz hung up and stared at the phone, the panic of sending her best friend into a warzone slowly seeping in.

“How’s Alex?” Liz looked over her shoulder at her dad and forced a small smile.

“He’s good. He’s being deployed again, this time to Afghanistan.”

“He’ll be okay,” Arturo assured her. “He’s smart, he knows how to stay out of trouble.”

Liz snorted. Alex was smart enough to stay out of trouble so long as he wanted to. Sometimes he found trouble far more interesting than safety, though. “I hope so.”

“You going to see him?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he’s stationed in Oklahoma right now so I’ll drive out there for a few days, maybe a week. He’s gonna take me to this ice cream joint that boasts the best milkshakes in Oklahoma.” She smiled. “He says yours are better, though.”

Arturo smiled. “He’s a filthy liar but I’ll take it.”

Liz laughed and switched over to her dad’s bed and cuddled up next to him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “He’s gonna be okay.” She didn’t pose it as a question. Her dad answered it anyway.

“Of course he’s going to be okay,” he kissed the top of her dad. “He survived his father, he can survive anything.”

A week later Liz sent her dad a photo of her and Alex sipping milkshakes with the caption Yours are better.

Both were grinning brightly around the straws.

Arturo tacked a copy of it to the wall in the kitchen of the Crashdown and told everyone who came in that his shakes were better than all of Oklahoma’s.

4.

Liz positively skipped up the steps to Alex’s apartment. They’d been living in the same city for months now but she still hadn’t gotten over the slight thrill it gave her that she could just pop over to Alex’s apartment.

“Hey Patrick!” She greeted when she stepped onto Alex’s landing only to see his roommate closing the door behind him. “Alex home?”

Patrick gave her a weird look. “Is he expecting you?”

She frowned and shook her head. “I had something to do downtown so I just came over. I thought we could go check out this new band I heard about. Is he not home?”

Patrick looked at the door. “No, he’s home. But Michael’s here so I don’t know how free he’s gonna be.”

Liz cocked her head in question. “Michael?” Patrick’s eyes widened and he glanced between her and the door and back to her.

“You know what? I have got things I need to do so I’m gonna go. Alex is inside but he has company so enter at your own discretion. Door’s unlocked.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder as he passed. Liz stared after him for a beat before walking slowly over to the door. Alex hadn’t mentioned that he was seeing anyone but she wasn’t sure what else Patrick could have meant. She dilly dallied for a few seconds before shrugging her shoulders and pushing the door open. 

Liz eased the door closed slowly and followed the faint sounds to the living room. “Oh shit. Sorry!” She clapped a hand over her mouth and turned on her heel when she saw Alex straddling a guy on the couch, his shirt on the floor behind him. “I’ll call you later!” She tossed over her shoulder as she hurried out the door laughing. She made it one step outside before her brain processed exactly what she had seen. 

Alex, half naked, in a hot guy’s lap. A hot guy with a head of gorgeous curls currently wrapped around Alex’s fingers. Curls that Liz recognized. 

She spun on her heel and went back inside. “Michael Guerin?”

Alex’s head snapped up to stare at her, his feet now firmly on the floor and his shirt in his hands. Michael motherfuckin’ Guerin sat on the couch in front of him, his hand outstretched towards Alex. When she said his name he half turned towards her, a scared look on his face before he plastered on a smile. 

Michael waved cheekily. “Hey Liz.”

Liz stared at him then glanced up only to stare at Alex. He had the most awful expression on his face, like he was legitimately afraid of how she’d react. She shook her head. “Hey, Michael. Sorry to interrupt.” Alex stared at her like she had three heads but she powered on. “I was coming over to see if Alex wanted to go check out a new band with me tonight but I can see that he probably has other plans.” She smiled at him and he relaxed slightly. “But if you want to see downtown Denver, though honestly I don’t know why you would, then call me.”

She waved awkwardly and turned to leave when Alex’s voice stopped her. “Wait, Liz.” She spun back around. 

“Sorry to barge in like that, really, I should’ve called to tell you I was coming over.”

“No, that’s not-” Alex stopped and took a deep breath. He looked at Michael, a clear question in his eyes that Liz couldn’t decipher. Michael didn’t say anything for a beat before he pushed himself off of the couch.

“I’m going to run to the store and get stuff for dinner,” he announced. Alex glared at him but Michael just smiled. He took a step towards Alex before he froze. He didn’t actually look at Liz but she knew it was her presence that stopped him and she frowned.

Michael moved away and Alex made a noise, his eyes flickering to her before he grabbed Michael’s arm and pulled him back in. Liz turned her head away as they kissed.

“Don’t take too long, yeah?” Alex said softly after they separated. “You just got here.”

She turned back in time to see Michael nod and kiss Alex again. When he pulled away, Alex’s fingers stay tucked in his belt loops until he physically couldn’t hold on anymore. Michael smiled wistfully at Alex and nodded to Liz before leaving.

In his wake, Liz shifted her weight awkwardly as she looked at Alex. Alex played with his fingers and didn’t look at her. “Why are you scared?” She asked softly. 

Alex flinched. “I’m not-” he stopped and closed his eyes. “Just- the last time we got caught like this was by my dad and he-”

He didn’t continue but Liz didn’t need him to. Alex was rubbing at his left hand almost unconsciously and Liz wasn’t an idiot. She could connect the dots just fine. 

She dropped her purse on the floor and stepped over the back of the couch and landed in an awkward heap in front of Alex, her arms already outstretched to pull him into a hug. He resisted briefly before hugging her back. 

“You don’t have to be scared, Alex. Not of me. Not ever.”

“I know,” he whispered into her shoulder.

She slowly pulled away but kept her arms on his shoulders so he couldn’t go too far. “Are you okay?”

Alex smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Yeah, you just startled me really. Kinda threw me back to high school and it just-” He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “So uh- what the hell?”

Alex rubbed at the back of his neck, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Which part?”

Liz let go of him and settled back onto the couch. She stopped and considered where she was sitting and quickly shifted to the other end of the couch. Alex rolled his eyes and she laughed.

“Michael Guerin?”

Alex nodded and sat down. “Remember the guy in the museum?”

Liz’s eyes widened. “The guy who kissed the life out of you? The one you would be willing to stay in Roswell for?”

Alex blushed but nodded. “It was a really good kiss.”

“Damn. That was almost eight years ago! Why didn’t you tell me?” She picked up the pillow lying on the ground and smacked him with it.

He looked away. “I don’t know, honestly. There were plenty of times when I could have, should have, even. I just- I didn’t.”

“Who knows?”

“From Roswell? No one.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “No one? What about Max or Isobel? Or Maria?” Liz’s own communication with Maria had sort of fallen by the wayside but she knew Alex kept in touch with her. Alex shook his head.

“I’m not there and I don’t want to be there. It’s hard to talk about it I guess. You’d have to ask him but I imagine it’s easier to just let it be something that happens when he visits. Patrick and my friends know but that’s about it.” 

“So he visits often?”

Alex shrugged. “It depends. When I was stationed in Florida we met up in California once and he came out to Oklahoma a few times. Since I got posted here last year he’s been up a couple of times.”

“When was his last visit?”

Alex blushed and tried to hide a grin. “Remember when we got that blizzard? The city was basically shut down for a few days?”

Liz nodded slowly. It had only been about two months since then, really. “Yeah, I tried to get you to come over before it started and you said you couldn’t be on the opposite side of the city from the base in case you got called in.”

“Yeah,” Alex drawled. “I actually had that whole week off, I wasn’t even on call. Michael came up. He got here the day before the snow started.”

Liz laughed. “You could have just said you wanted to get snowed in with your boyfriend instead of me, I would’ve understood.” Alex stilled when she said the word boyfriend. “Alex?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Yeah, I know I could have but I’ve gotten used to not mentioning him? I knew at some point I needed to tell you, it’s been long enough that it’s getting absurd, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.” He paused and shifted in his seat. “Do you remember when you started at UC Boulder and we went out for drinks?” Liz nodded. “We talked about lost loves or whatever?” Liz looked away. “You talked about Max Evans and you said if you ever had any regrets about leaving Roswell it was him.”

“What about it?”

“Michael came up the next weekend. I was going to tell you then and have you come over and we could hang out but after you mentioned Max and missing someone from Roswell, I didn’t want to bring up the fact that I’ve been sort of hanging on to someone from Roswell.”

Liz reached over and grabbed Alex’s hands. “Hey.” She waited until he looked at her. “First, don’t ever be afraid to tell me something, okay? Even if it might make me a little maudlin for a day or so. And second, what do you mean ‘sort of hanging on’?”

Alex shrugged. “We’ve never really defined our relationship. It’s not like we’re dating. I know he hooks up with women when he’s in Roswell and I’ve gone on my fair share of dates between his visits.”

“But he keeps visiting?”

“Yeah.”

“...and you keep wanting him to visit?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded. 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re hanging on.” Liz told him softly. “It sounds like a relationship. An undefined, unconventional one sure, but a relationship nonetheless.”

Alex shrugged. 

“Do you love him?” She asked softly and she watched in amazement as Alex’s whole face softened, his lips turning up in a smile.

“Yeah. I do.”

She smiled. “I’m glad. You look happy, Alex.”

“I am.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Liz stood up. “I should go. I don’t want to intrude on your time with him.”

Alex rose with her. “Text me the name of the bar you’re going to. We’ll see if we’re up for it.”

“Will do,” Liz promised as she gathered her purse. She was halfway to the door before something occurred to her. “When I visited you in Oklahoma, before your last deployment, I remember the day I left I asked if you were okay and you said you would be. I assumed you meant that you were dealing with it but I remember distinctly that you were looking at your phone and smiling when you said it.”

Alex stared at her. “How- why do you remember that?”

She shrugged. “On the phone, that was Michael right?”

Alex rolled his eyes but nodded. “He got there like an hour after you did.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “I’m glad he was there for you.”

Alex smiled softly. “He’s always there when I need him. Even when we fuck up and don’t talk for a while.”

Liz furrowed her brow at that. She opened her mouth to ask when the door opened and Michael came in, his arms laden with grocery bags. He froze when he saw her. “Should I go back out?”

Alex smiled and Liz laughed and shook her head. “I’m leaving.” She turned to Alex. “I’ll talk to you later?” He nodded and gave her a quick hug.

“Michael,” she nodded at him. “Nice to see you again. We’ll have to catch up while you’re here.”

“Liz,” he smiled and jerked his head at Alex. “Set it up with the bossman. He controls our schedule.”

Liz laughed and let herself out while Alex protested loudly.

5.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Liz chanted softly as she paced the small bathroom.

“Do you know what time it is?” Alex’s voice was groggy and Liz silently apologized for forgetting the time difference now that he was on the east coast again.

“Diego proposed!” She hissed.

Alex paused. “Oh god. What did you say?”

“Yes?” Liz grimaced.

“What? Why? You don’t love him.”

“I know! I panicked!” Liz told him, a touch too loud. “Fuck, they’re gonna hear me.”

“Who? Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom at his parent’s house.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he just proposed! It’s his birthday so we came over for dinner and after dessert he announced that the best birthday present would be me agreeing to be his wife and then before I knew what was happening he was down on one knee and his family were all looking at me and I’m pretty sure his mom was recording it and I panicked okay?!” Liz continued to pace.

Alex snorted and tried to stifle his laughter.

“Don’t laugh asshole. This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Alex told her. “Why the hell did he think proposing was a good idea? You guys have only been dating what a year?”

“Almost two,” Liz admitted. “We started dating before you got relocated.”

“True, true. Wow time really does fly when you get older.”

“Oh shush, we’re 27, we’re not old.”

Alex laughed. “Okay, real talk. How are you going to let him down?”

“It’s his birthday and I’m at his parent’s house and I already said yes.” Liz dropped her head against the door in a loud thunk. “What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t, clearly.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“What do you want me to say? You just agreed to marry a man you don’t love.”

Liz groaned. “But I could! He’s so sweet and kind and he loves me.”

“All good qualities,” Alex agreed easily. “But he’s also boring.”

“There’s nothing wrong with boring!” Liz tried to defend.

“See you’re not even arguing that he’s not boring.”

Liz groaned. “Ok fine but my point still stands. Boring doesn’t mean he’s a bad choice.”

“Your heart’s not in it and you know it.”

“Oh who are you to give me relationship advice? How’s Michael these days?” Liz snapped. “Shit, no. Alex, I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” Alex remarked faintly. “Fuck you too. You called me remember?”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry,” Liz apologized.

Alex sighed heavily. “It’s late. I need to sleep and you have a fiance to go talk to.”

He hung up before Liz could say anything more. She pulled the phone away from her ear only long enough to hit redial.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Liz began after the beep, “what I said was completely uncalled for. I was just feeling defensive for some reason and I lashed out and I took a cheap shot that was cruel and unnecessary and I’m sorry. I love you for answering the phone when I called even though I know it’s late there and thank you for listening to me ramble on about my problems. I did call you for advice and I shit on you when you tried to give it and I’m sorry.” Liz paused to consider her next words. She knew Alex wouldn’t like them but if she was already in the doghouse she might as well make it worse. “But Alex- you should call him, okay? I know you said you wanted to do rehab on your own and you didn’t want him showing up at the hospital again but you don’t need to shut him out completely. He’s worried and he misses you and you should really call him.”

Liz jumped at a knock on the door. “Liz?” Diego’s voice came through.

Liz closed her eyes and finished her message, her voice lower so Diego couldn’t hear. “I hope you know if I end up going through with this you’re gonna be my Man of Honor so I need you to forgive me my big mouth, okay? I love you.” She ended the call and pulled the door open to see Diego’s worried face.

“Everything okay?”

Liz smiled. “Yeah. I just called Alex to tell him.”

Diego grinned. He’d always liked Alex more than Alex liked him. “What did he say?”

“He said he’s happy for us, of course.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “And that the next time I wake him up in the middle of the night somebody better be dying.”

Diego laughed. “That sounds like Alex.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back. “Do you want to rejoin everyone or go home?”

Liz barely held in her sigh of relief. “Home, definitely.”

+1

Liz drove up the long driveway almost on autopilot. She’d come out here countless times in high school with Kyle and she could find her way easily enough that her thoughts started to wander. 

Back in Roswell one day, less than that really. It had only been a couple of hours since she pulled up outside the Crashdown and saw her father for the first time in years. In that time, she’d run into Max Evans twice and someone had shot up her family home. Liz was even half convinced that she herself had been shot, despite the lack of a wound of any kind. 

She slowed to a stop and got out. There was a light on in the cabin and the flickering of a TV through the window. Liz smiled as she tugged the door open.

Alex looked up and over at her from his spot on the couch. “Hey stranger.”

She groaned dramatically as she closed the door and flopped down on the couch next to him. “I hate this town,” she whined into his blanket.

Alex laughed. “You’ve been back, what, six hours?”

Liz nodded. “I ran into Max Evans.”

“Oh.” She looked up at the odd tone in his voice but he just waggled his eyebrows.

“Not like that!” She sat up. “He was running a police check point outside of town and then he came by the diner and we shared a shake and then someone shot up the place and he-”

“Someone shot up the Crashdown!?” Alex sat up and looked her over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she waved him off. “I think I hit my head when Max pulled me to the ground but other than that I’m fine, I swear.”

Alex searched her eyes before nodding. “Okay. So Max Evans, personal hero, huh?”

Liz groaned and fell back against the couch. “He’s so hot.”

Alex laughed. “If Max Evans being hot is the least of your problems right now, you’re doing okay.”

Liz didn’t say anything.

“Liz?” Alex prodded.

“I forgot how much everyone hates us here,” she said quietly. “Hates Rosa. I just- I’m really glad you’re here Alex. I don’t know what I would do in this town if you weren’t.”

Alex didn’t offer any platitudes, he just reached out and wrapped her in a side arm hug. 

“How’ve you been since getting back? It’s been what? Two weeks?”

Alex hummed in agreement. “It’s been an adjustment. I’ve pretty much been avoiding town, honestly. Just go in for groceries and whatnot before coming back here.”

“You seen Michael yet?”

“No,” Alex exhaled. “I drove out to his trailer a few days ago but he had company so I left.”

“Alex-”

“It’s fine.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

Alex took a deep breath. “That’s true. But I don’t have any right to be upset. Not anymore. Not after I shoved him away.”

“You should go see him. He misses you.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Who do you think he texts when he’s drunk and feeling sorry for himself that he’s not with you?”

“Patrick,” Alex answered. Liz tilted her head in concession. 

“Okay, besides Patrick.” She nudged him. “He doesn’t really have a lot of people to talk to about it, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He shifted so he could look at her, a sudden gleam in his eye. “Ok, enough about me. Tell me about Diego.”

Liz groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Oh god, no. I can’t-”

“How did you do it?”

“I was awful.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh it was. I just- fuck I just started packing up my car and he came by with Richard-” 

“That’s his best friend, right?”

Liz nodded. “Yeah so they came by to pick me up for something that I had completely forgotten about and they just pulled up next to the car and Diego was all confused and so so dumb about it.” Liz hated to speak ill of him because she did care for him but there was a reason she left. “He kept asking if I was cleaning or donating some stuff. Just trying to come up with any reason besides the obvious. And finally I just gave him the ring. God, Alex, I didn’t even have it on. I’d already taken it off. How awful am I?”

“Okay, yeah, that’s pretty awful.”

Liz smacked him lightly. “You’re not supposed to agree with me. You’re supposed to make me feel better.”

“How about I be honest instead?”

Liz sighed but nodded. “Yeah okay let me have it.” She waved him on.

“There were quite honestly a thousand different ways you could have broken up with him that would have been better than that. Number one would have been not accepting his proposal in the first place.” He leveled her with a stern look.

“Yeah, I know,” Liz agreed easily. Because she did know. And if she hadn’t fucked up with Alex so badly she might have been thinking about Diego enough to have corrected herself then and just told him no. 

“So…” Alex started after a while.

Liz raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“You are no longer engaged. A free woman once more…”

“Yes…”

“Exactly how hot did Max Evans look in his deputy uniform?” Alex grinned.

Liz scrunched up her face and sank down into the couch with a slight squeal. “So hot. I think it was the hat.”

“The hat definitely doesn’t hurt.” Alex remarked idly. Liz stared at him.

“You think Max-”

“I have eyes and the guy’s hot, okay? But no, I wasn’t talking about him.”

“Michael wears a cowboy hat?”

Alex nodded. “It looks so fucking good on him, too.”

Liz laughed. “Ok now that I have to see.”

“Take a picture and send it to me, yeah?”

“Or…” Liz replied. “You could just go see him yourself.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Alex said. “When are you gonna see Max again?”

Liz grinned. “Maybe tomorrow.”