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Destroying the Planet to Save It Chapter 3: One for All, and All that Shit

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Bruce Banner had gathered as much data as possible about the latest event, and had done as much with it as he could with the equipment he’d brought to Washington D.C. He needed to get back to his lab in New York and get to work. He tried to sleep, but found himself staring at the sunrise from the window of another Stark jet, rolling ideas through his head and trying to plan his next steps. Trying not to think about Catherine Mulready.

He hadn’t wanted to call her. Hadn’t wanted to barge back into her life when he’d promised her he wouldn’t. But he’d had no choice. She was one of maybe four people on the planet with the knowledge and ability to help him, and the other three were scattered across the globe. Of course, he wasn’t in love with the other three, which was a significant complicating factor.

She’d taken his call. Just picked up the phone with a casual, “Hello, Bruce,” like the last time they’d seen each other they hadn’t both been crying. And when he’d asked her how she was, she’d actually answered, rather than simply shutting him down with the “fine,” he deserved. Like she was happy and it was no big thing that he’d called. Which is what he wanted; he’d told her to get over him and be happy, it was just… He didn’t know that her actually doing that would hurt quite this much. It was one thing to miss her, like he did every damn day. It was another to know that she didn’t miss him. That she’d moved on. Just like he’d told her to.

Clint Barton wasn’t sleeping, either. He was looking down at Natasha, the only person on the plane who was sleeping. Her head rested in his lap, her beautiful, shiny red hair spilling down his thigh to pool on the cushion next to him. As soon as they’d boarded the jet, they’d just gravitated together, settling on the sofa near the center, as if they’d had reserved seats. It had always been like that for them, from the very beginning. As he stroked her smooth, sleek hair, Clint thought about the day they met, and the almost instant sensation he’d had that they’d always known each other. And now, they really had known each other for a lifetime. He could no longer remember, couldn’t even imagine anymore, what it would be like without Natasha Romanoff in his life.

And in his heart.

It had been many years since they’d met, since that day when he’d first seen her and knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been wrong. Yes, Natasha was lethal and yes, she was working for the enemy. But she was nothing like they’d believed. Clint had seen immediately who she was. What she was. And instead of killing her, as he’d been sent to do, he’d brought S.H.I.E.L.D. one of the very best agents it ever had.

It hadn’t been a choice. He’d tried to explain it a thousand times, and each time he’d failed to find the words that would explain how he’d simply known that’s where she belonged. This woman, this beautiful, tortured, devastatingly lonely woman, was a hero. And he’d seen it as soon as he’d looked into her eyes.

He huffed a quiet laugh at that. Part of the reason it was hard to explain how he’d known in that moment that Natasha Romanoff was a good woman was that she’d been covered in someone else’s blood at the time. And then she’d cursed him and fought him and led him on a four-day chase through three countries. It had taken most of that time for him to realize that, all the while, she was doing just enough to escape but never really hurting him.

And then he’d caught her. Or maybe she caught him. He’d followed her to Tallinn and thought he’d lost her, entirely convinced she’d found a way to cross the Gulf into Finland. He’d been devastated. Clint didn’t give a rat’s ass about explaining to his superiors at S.H.I.E.L.D. that she’d escaped. They knew how good she was, and they’d expected that. What he cared about was her. So he’d holed up in a ratty old dockside inn for the night, nursing his wounds and a bottle of black-market vodka. He’d been standing, wearing nothing but jeans and looking out the dirty window at the poor fucks trudging around in the thick slush on the street, when she’d just… been there.

He’d heard a scrape behind him and turned to see Natasha, no longer bloody, but showing definite signs of having been on the run, sitting at the tiny table in his room and drinking straight from his bottle of vodka. She’d given him a smug little salute with the bottle, stood up, and offered it to him. He took it from her, swigged a mouthful, and then moved to stand face to face with her, leaning his arm behind her to set the bottle back on the table. Neither of them was surprised that she didn’t move away, but slid one hand around his neck and the other down his bare chest to the button of his jeans.

They’d stayed there, in that damp, dingy little inn, for three days, sleeping for a couple hours at a time between rounds of hard, messy, athletic sex. They barely spoke. They asked each other no questions and shared no information beyond moans and cries and instructions. And when it was over, Clint had simply stated that he was taking Natasha to the U.S. with him, and she had not objected.

*****

Stark Tower was not your usual skyscraper, in pretty much any way. Tony had no trouble at all housing a planeload of surprise guests, one of whom was the President of the United States. A lot of things bugged Tony, but housing important people wasn’t one of them. That was what Friday and his staff were for. Besides, he had other things on his mind. He was anxious for Bruce to arrive so they could start comparing notes and, until then, he just planned to lock himself in his lab and work with the data he had so far. The rest of the team could take care of the guests. Even the damn President. Well, Presidents.

Tony almost made it. He was that close to getting into his lab and away from everyone, especially the newly-bearded, tank-like asshole who was even now getting off the other elevator. Fuck. It was still dark, way too early in the damn morning for this.

“I thought we should talk,” Steve said, wearing his patented Wholesome and Earnest© expression.

“No, we really shouldn’t.”

“Tony-“

“You should get back in the elevator - I designed them so they go both up and down, I’m clever like that – and you and your pet assassin should deal with our guests. Isn’t that what you do? Aren’t you, like, the Jawline of Democracy, or the Shoulders of Freedom or something? Babysitting the President seems right up your alley. I have work to do.”

“Damn you, Tony, we have a deal. I expect you to hold up your end.”

“Yeah, you know what, Not Chuck Norris? I am holding up my end. You might have noticed me last night, right next to you the whole damn time, getting the President out of there, hauling him here on my plane, to my secure building. That was me, holding up my end. I’m all about keeping the Avengers together. One for all, and all that shit. But here’s the thing. A little of you? That goes a long, long fucking way, and I’ve had about as much Captain America as I can stomach right now. Someone tries to take over the world? Call me. I’m in. But until that happens, I seriously need you to fuck off.”

Tony turned on his heel and slammed his palm down on the sensor that would open the doors for only him.

“So that’s it? This is as good as it’s gonna get? We just coexist and you avoid me and –“

Tony wheeled around and stormed up to Steve until they were chest to chest, with Tony’s livid expression mere inches from Steve’s stubbornly set jaw. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Because we were a team, and we were something, y’know? We did some amazing shit together. I thought that meant something, that we’d built something. And then you turned around and took a blowtorch to the whole damn thing like it had all been some cute little hobby for you and you were on to the next thing.”

“I had no choice,” Steve hissed. “It was Bucky.”

“Yeah, no, I get that. I read the files, I know what they did to him. I had a lot of time to think while you were in Wakanda, and me and him? We’re good. But me and you? No. And I don’t see that changing.”

“How do you expect us to be a team if we don’t work together? Train together? Trust eachother?”

“Yeah. I know. That’s what you cost us.” Tony turned around and went into his lab. “See you around, Cap,” he sneered as he punched the button to shut the sliding door between them.

*****

Craig Thomas had volunteered to take the first shift in the President’s suite, along with another two Secret Service officers. Joss Emerson had agreed to relieve Agent Thomas at seven, and she was just fumbling her way to consciousness and beginning to form the hazy thought of caffeine when she heard a quick, solid knock on the door of the room she’d been assigned. Frowning, she rolled off the edge of the shockingly comfortable bed and to her feet.

She’d groaned as she crossed the room, but it was nothing to the groan she let out when she looked through the peephole into the hallway. Glancing down with a whimper at the nightgown she wore, she opened the door a crack and poked her head around it.

Bucky stood there, slight confusion clouding his blue eyes, despite the amused quirk of an eyebrow. “Are you… Everything OK?”

“I’m good. Thanks. I just, um… I just woke up.”

“I see that,” he grinned, indicating her sleep-scrambled hair. “I brought you coffee.” He held up a very large paper cup with a lid, from which came a scent almost as seductive as he was.

Joss reached out a hand, but didn’t open the door any wider. “Oh, man. You are officially my new best friend.”

As he handed the cup to her, Bucky stepped closer and tried to look past her into the room. His expression was a little more serious now. “You sure you’re OK? I wanted to talk to you about something. If you’re… You don’t have company in there, do you?”

“No! For Pete’s sake, we’ve been here, what? Six hours? And you think I…”

“Well, President Lattimore does seem to really like you.”

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

“It will be, once you get a little caffeine in you. C’mon, let me in. I wanna get your take on something.”

“Give me a chance to put some clothes on, will ya’? I thought you were from the ‘40’s, aren’t you supposed to be embarrassed that I’m not dressed?”

Bucky grinned, enjoying Joss’s discomfort. “I’m a quick study. Anyway, you have clothes on, I can see your sleeve. What’s the problem?”

“It’s… I just…” She looked down at herself again. “I can’t. Come back later.”

“Joss. What’s going on?” Suddenly, he was serious. He put his right hand on the door, ready to push it open unless she gave him a very good reason not to.

“Damn it,” she sighed, stepping back and opening the door so he could enter.

Bucky stepped in, looked her from head to toe, and instantly had to fight not to laugh, although he didn’t fight very fucking hard, if you asked Joss.

The nightgown she wore was basically a black, long-sleeved, V-necked T-shirt that came to mid-thigh, which wouldn’t have been a problem except for the left arm. The gray left arm with black stripes of various thicknesses at random intervals and a large red star on the shoulder.

“I hate Tony Stark,” she spat, hunching her shoulders and looking everywhere but at Bucky.

“I don’t. I get royalties from those. And they’re selling like crazy.” Bucky’s eyes danced as he affected a way-too-innocent expression.

“You laugh, and your reign as my new best friend will come to a bloody end.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, why are you wearing it?”

“Stark got some store to deliver clothes for us to wear today, but he said this was all he could do as far as sleepwear. If the damned President isn’t wearing one of these, I am going to have some very unpleasant things to say about this place on Yelp.”

He chuckled. “Well, it looks good on you, if that makes you feel any better. May I?” He indicated the sofa that sat across the room, under a wall of windows with an extraordinary view of Manhattan. It really was a stupendously luxurious room, especially when Bucky Barnes was standing in it. Joss looked down at her coffee. It was tempting as hell, but if he was standing there, that meant she was still dreaming, and this was one REM cycle she really did not want to interrupt.

*****

On five hours’ sleep, Anita Herrera looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of one of those glossy magazines they put a blocker in front of at the grocery store so little kids won’t see cleavage. Sam Wilson, not so much. He was standing in the large communal kitchen that served this floor of luxury hotel-like rooms and suites, finishing his second cup of coffee and beginning to wonder if cup number one was ever going to kick in. The grainy dryness of his red, swollen eyes could not be attractive, and he almost wished Agent Herrera wasn’t here right now to see it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw her pick the carafe out of the huge, stainless steel, state-of-the-art coffee maker that looked like it belonged in the cockpit of a Space Shuttle. She carried it, practically gliding across the floor, until she was standing next to where he leaned against the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. She lifted it in question and, when he held out his cup, refilled it, smiling. Suddenly, Sam was wide awake.

“Short night,” she commented.

“Yeah. I guess Banner and the others have landed now. They should be here soon, and maybe we’ll get some answers.”

“About that. I’ve been thinking. We need to get back into Arias’s… bunker? Lair? Hideout? Whatever he calls it.”

“What do you have in mind, Agent Herrera?” Sam lifted an interested eyebrow.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not calling you ‘Mr. Wilson.’ So my name is Anita.” The cheeky smile and flip of her hair just about dropped Sam where he stood. “And for another, I’m thinking you and I should go on a date.”

Sam’s mind skipped like a dirty CD. “Uh…”

“How are you at breaking and entering?” Anita asked as she crossed the floor again to replace the coffee carafe.

“Breaking and entering. You’re not seriously thinking we can sneak into that… underground fortress?”

“We need to get in there. You got a better idea?”

“That’s asking a lot on three hours of sleep. But let me think about it.”

“You do that,” she said over her shoulder, opening the huge refrigerator and beginning to take stock of the very full shelves. “In the meantime, Stark said to make ourselves at home, so I’m going to make breakfast. You’re going to help.”

“What makes you think so?”

“I was a Navy Warrant Officer. I outrank you.”

“Shit.”

*****

Breakfast was a noisy, chaotic affair made bearable by the fragile, temporary camaraderie among those who had been unexpectedly and unwillingly been brought together in New York. Sam and Anita had been busy, and everyone had been lured into the common room by the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Even both Presidents were there, although President Burke spent much of the time on the secure phone Tony had put at his disposal.

Tony Stark was nowhere to be found, since Bruce Banner had now arrived and the two were holed up in Bruce’s lab on one of the top floors. Which left Steve playing host, which wasn’t his strong suit. As it turned out, however, it was Sharon’s, and she came to his rescue quickly, smoothly, and without question. So smoothly, in fact, that no one noticed. No one except Steve.

There were heaping serving bowls of scrambled eggs with peppers and onions, spiced with a Cuban flair, that everyone devoured, along with seemingly endless platters of bacon, toast, and fruit. Anita had found a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne, with which even the President spiked his orange juice. Sitting around the huge table, groups of strangers became almost friendly, with Sharon gently guiding conversations and smoothing over occasional quiet spells and rough spots.

Air Force One was on its way, now that the weather was clear in D.C. and no further energy spikes had been detected there. Since they hadn’t recurred in any of the places they’d appeared so far, there was no reason to suppose Washington would be any different. President Burke was expected to be back in the White House by afternoon.

President Lattimore, however, lived in Mobile, and wasn’t happy that he wouldn’t be on that flight. Instead, Bucky had arranged to fly him back home in a Quinjet, with his Secret Service detail and Joss Emerson. That’s what he’d wanted to talk over with her earlier, and she was still having occasional retroactive blushes about being caught out wearing an officially licensed Avengerswear™ Winter Soldier nightgown.

Everett Burke was known to be a big eater, and to have a sincere appreciation for good food. Fortunately for him, he liked to exercise as much as he liked to eat, and had a reputation among the Secret Service for being extremely competitive when they had to accompany him on his runs. He managed to retain much of his SEAL-era conditioning despite now having a desk job that required him to attend banquets and dinners almost nightly. He managed to put down the phone for long enough to tuck into an enormous plate of breakfast, engaging a hollow-eyed Clint and entirely refreshed Natasha in a series of questions about last night’s phenomenon.

“Dr. Banner is convinced that the energy he’s detecting is responsible for the destructive events that follow, and he’s hopeful that he’ll be able to learn about the connection from the storm in Washington last night. He was able to gather an overwhelming amount of data on it, more than we have on any of the other events. He has a world-renowned meteorological scientist coming in today to consult, and we should have some answers soon,” Natasha said, her face a bland mask of competent calm that only Clint could see through. He could tell that she was, in fact, highly amused to find herself across the breakfast table from the leader of the free world, given her former occupation.

For his part, Clint was just sleep-deprived enough to find the whole situation hilarious. The Secret Service agents around the table and surrounding the President seemed much more concerned about an as-yet theoretical threat than the fact that their principal was, at this moment, having mimosas with the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow. He was sorely tempted to ask Bucky and Natasha to list the number of ways they could kill him – hell, everybody in the room – using just what was currently within arms’ reach. Yeah, he should probably excuse himself and take a nap before he found himself answering uncomfortable questions in a soundproofed room somewhere beneath the Pentagon.

Sharon stepped in. “Director Coulson and Captain Rogers have asked me to be your liaison to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, Sir. It’ll be my job to make sure that you know everything we know.”

“I appreciate that, Agent Carter,” the President replied, almost retaining his placid mask of imperturbable authority without letting the twinge of disappointment show. “I’m used to working with Captain Rogers, but you’re much prettier.”

Half the room grinned, while the other half consciously restrained themselves from facepalming. How many times in his political career had Everett Burke gotten himself in trouble over inappropriate remarks like that? Sharon’s face showed nothing of her annoyance, or her gratitude that there were no reporters in the room.

“Sir, you don’t want me,” Steve said with a self-deprecating smile that belied his irritation on Sharon’s behalf. “You need something punched, I’m your guy. Science and tech, that’s Sharon.”

She gave him the slightest nod of approval, while promising herself that, if she ever got the chance, she would thank him in a much more personal way for that.

*****

The lobby of Stark Tower was much like Tony Stark himself: blatantly luxurious, faintly ridiculous, easy but dangerous to underestimate. Bruce knew there were a plethora of defensive systems that would make even approaching this level of the tower a suicide mission at a word from Tony. He looked around, trying to spot all the cameras, lasers, remotely-operated panels, and other fixtures that weren’t what they appeared to be. Tony liked to say that the strange sculpture in the middle of the fountain was actually a robot drone that could be controlled from several places only Tony and Friday knew, but he was never sure whether to believe that.

Bruce was exhausted, frightened, annoyed, frustrated, and anxious as he paced the area in front of the massive, ultra-modern reception desk, chewing on a thumbnail and, had he known it, muttering to himself. He paid no attention to the many people who steered extra-wide of him. In fact, he paid no attention to any of the passersby and tourists who thronged the lobby, having no idea that the strange, rumpled man scowling at the floor was, in fact, one of the Avengers they were there hoping to glimpse.

Preoccupied as he was, he knew the moment she appeared outside the tall, glass doors, squinting up at the landing platform jutting out into the morning sunshine and squaring her shoulders before she nodded to a young man in a suit who held the door open for her, and stepped inside. He stood, not breathing, just letting her happen to him all over again. Her jet-black hair was short now, rather than the long, straight fall it had been when he’d last seen her in London. Although he knew intellectually that it was an intentional style, his body thought the shaggy, spiky layers made her look like she’d just gotten out of bed, which he really didn’t need right this minute. Her suit was stylish and professional, but it fit her like a glove, reminding him of her body, which he really fucking didn’t need right then.

She saw him almost as soon as she entered the lobby. Did her steps falter a little? He thought so, but then, he wanted to think so. What he knew for sure was that she was smiling warmly when she came to stand in front of him. She took off her Ray-Bans and he was immediately struck anew by those piercing green eyes.

“Hello, Bruce,” she said. Was it a little hesitant? A little tight?

“Catherine. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said in the Estuary accent he still heard in his most private fantasies. “I’m dying to get a look at what you’ve got.”

“I can’t wait to show you,” he grinned shyly. “Let’s go.”

Bruce waved her toward a bank of elevators down a hallway that was guarded on both sides by imposing men whose firearms were intentionally not well-concealed under the jackets of their dark suits. They nodded to him as he passed, having been briefed that he would be bringing a guest up to the Research floors. They weren’t worried that she might be armed or carrying anything they might not want on the upper floors of the tower. The elevator would silently scan her and invisibly detect any of several hundred dangerous organic and explosive materials. There was even radiation detection. If any of those scans showed a problem, the elevator would descend to the lobby and lock down until the doors opened on a fully suited Ironman. Tony took no chances with security.

They were alone on the elevator. It seemed quiet after the bustle of the lobby, especially because the thick, soft wool carpet and brocade wall panels absorbed sound, and the mechanism itself was all but silent.

Bruce was staring. He knew he was. But he couldn’t help it any more than he could help the awed tone of voice in which he nearly whispered, “You look good, Catherine. I like your hair like that.”

She smiled self-consciously and seemed to be forcing herself to meet his eyes. “You look good, too,” she said softly. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. You’ve been through a lot these last years.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “You could say that. It’s not every day you get to battle an alien invasion.”

“Speaking of that,” she said, now clearly avoiding his eyes. “I, uh… I know that you were responsible for destroying the ones that attacked my building. I don’t know if that was for me, but… I appreciated it. You may be a superhero, but I am decidedly not. I was scared shitless.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bruce grinned, and she met his eyes again. “Don’t tell anyone.”

For a second, they just stood, grinning softly at one another.

“Are you really OK?” She finally asked, no pretense now. “I can’t stop caring just because you tell me to.”

“I’m as OK as I always am,” he muttered.

“That’s a shitty answer.”

“Yeah, well…”

She sighed.

“Have you ever met Tony Stark?” Bruce asked, fooling neither of them with his change of subject.

“Never. I’m afraid I’m going to be a little starstruck.”

“If you tell him I said this, I’ll deny it, but I’m a little starstruck myself. His mind is… not like other people’s.”

“So I understand. Anything I should beware of?”

Bruce barked a genuine laugh with a smile that, although he couldn’t know it, rocked Catherine back on her heels. “Pretty much anything having to do with him. We’re just lucky this particular crisis will have us working with a lot more theory than mechanical engineering. That’s the part where there’s usually explosions and inadvertent time travel, things like that.”

“What’ve I bloody gotten myself into?” She mumbled, loud enough that he knew it was intended to be a joke.

When the doors opened, they found themselves in a room that comprised most of this floor of the building, so spartan white that the morning sunlight streaming in made it seem uncomfortably bright. The scattered work stations throughout were almost bare except for sparse bits of… some kind of electronic hardware whose purpose wasn’t immediately apparent to anyone who hadn’t seen it in action. Walking toward them through the sun-drenched room was Tony Stark, barefoot and wearing jeans that looked ancient, with a black T-shirt featuring a white decal of an old-school floppy disc.

“Dr. Mulready! You have to be Dr. Mulready,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh! You’re English! Cool. Bruce didn’t tell me that, just that you used to bone and then he dumped you. Something about being an enormous green douchebag. So. Let’s get started, we got a lot to show you.”

Entirely oblivious of the effect of his words, Tony turned around to the closest white-topped table, a long, curved expanse with only a few of those electronic-looking odds and ends scattered atop it. Until he flung his arms wide and, so unexpectedly that Catherine jumped and let out an embarrassing yelp, a glowing screen appeared in mid-air.

“Banner’s gonna bore you with a bunch of squiggles on a graph, but I know you’re a tornado expert, so I’m going to show you the really cool stuff. Starting with this.” He did something with a flick of his wrist and the screen was filled with video of the previous day’s tornado over Washington D.C.

They watched in silence for several minutes, Catherine’s entire attention laser-focused as the storm raged and the funnel wreaked devastation on the ground. “Anti-cyclonic rotation,” she murmured. “That’s interesting.”

“Why?” Bruce asked, watching her as she watched the screen, crinkling her nose and tilting her head to the left in a way that instantly flooded Bruce with nostalgia.

“The Coriolis effect. Less than five percent of tornadoes rotate clockwise in this hemisphere. Doesn’t mean anything on its own, it’s just rare.”

They watched for a few more minutes before Catherine stiffened and said, “Wait. What was that?”

“What was what?” Tony asked.

“Go back. Play the last ten seconds again.”

He did and they watched as a jagged lightning bolt shot across the sky. It was cool, but Tony wasn’t sure that it was particularly interesting. He looked curiously at Catherine.

“Can you slow it down?”

“I can do anything. How slow do you want it?”

“Frame by frame, if you can. Starting just before the lightning strike.”

He did, advancing the video and watching her as he did.

“There!” She cried, pointing to the screen. “That.”

Tony and Bruce looked at each other. “OK, I’ll play,” Tony said. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

Catherine stepped up to the screen and pointed to the leading edge of the lightning bolt where it appeared to actually strike the side of the tornado. “See that? How the lightning looks like it’s poking a hole in the funnel?”

“Yeah…” Bruce answered tentatively.

“Now. Next frame.”

In the next frame, there appeared to be an actual divot forming in the wall of the funnel.

“Next,” Catherine said, scowling.

In the next frame, the divot had grown and was clearly a bend in the wall of the tornado, making the funnel look like it was moving away from the lightning.

“Next.”

The effect became more pronounced in the next frame, and the next. The lightning strike lasted only a few frames beyond that, but it was clear, now that they had slowed it down, that the lightning had actually “dented” the funnel of the tornado, and caused it to bend away from the strike.

“OK. We see it now. So what?” Tony asked impatiently.

“So that can’t happen. Lightning isn’t powerful enough to affect a tornado, and the power surge doesn’t last long enough, even if it was. Whatever we’re looking at, it’s either not a tornado, or it’s not lightning. Or both.”

*****

When breakfast was over, Steve and Sharon were left alone in the ravaged common room amid the greasy, jumbled remains.

“Do you suppose we’re supposed to clean this up?” She asked, looking daunted at the possibility.

“Of course not. Tony’s got people for that,” Steve answered, with a look that told Sharon he disapproved of something about what he’d just said.

“What?”

Steve looked over at her, trying to cover his look with a smile. “Nothing. We don’t have to clean this up.”

“Did something happen between you and Tony?”

Steve blew out a breath in disgust. “Tony happened. I thought we were gonna try to get past this. I believed him that we’d put aside our anger and were going to try to figure things out for the good of the team.”

“But that isn’t true?”

“Doesn’t look like it. He told me to stay away from him unless someone’s trying to take over the world. In so many words.”

Sharon put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know you really want things back the way they used to be.”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what the world needs. If the Avengers hadn’t been here, who would have stopped the Chitauri? The military? They were about to nuke the city! If it wasn’t for us, working together, New York would be gone now and maybe the Chitauri would be in control of Earth anyway.”

Steve stood up and began pacing the room, pent-up frustration and energy with no outlet urging him to action.

“I’ve gotta find a way to get through to him. We have to work together. We don’t have a choice.”

“Steve,” Sharon began tentatively.

“What?” He stopped pacing to look at her.

“What have you and Tony… said to eachother about what happened? About the Accords, and about The Raft, and Berlin?”

“Plenty. There’s a bloody bunker in Siberia that will show you, we had quite the conversation about that.”

Sharon stood then, walking over to where Steve stood in front of the wall of windows. She reached out hesitantly, laying her hands lightly on his chest, and was pleased to see him take a step toward her and rest a warm, heavy hand on each side of her waist. “That’s what I was afraid of. You haven’t talked about it at all.”

“We did, Sharon. I called him, and we met in Washington. You know that, you were there. We agreed that the Avengers is too important to end.”

“And that’s the only time you’ve sat down and talked about this?”

“Well… yeah. What else is there to say?”

Sharon basically banged her head against Steve’s chest in disgust. “Men.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that, for a really smart guy, you’re a damn fool. That’s what it means. You need to talk to him, Steve. You need to talk, and you need to keep talking until you each understand what made the other take the position they did. And you need to apologize to each other.”

“Apologize? What the fuck for? He’s got us answering to a committee, for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes, and he believes that’s the right thing. He believes that. Do you really think Tony Stark, of all people, would willingly submit to anyone’s authority if he didn’t truly believe it was necessary? And do you know why he thought it was necessary? Did you even ask?”

“I know why. Of course I asked, we argued about it for hours…”

“You argued. You both talked at each other – shouted, actually – and neither one heard a word the other said.”

“Whose side are you on, Sharon?” Steve yelled, letting go of her.

“Yours,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “Always yours. You have to know that.”

He frowned and turned toward the window, his face working as he thought through what she’d said.

“Steve.”

After a moment, he turned back to her. She stepped to him again, this time wrapping her arms around his waist. His arms naturally encircled her, and she found herself pressed against his chest, looking up into his bright blue eyes. “Do you remember when we first met? How we first met?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was on your side, there for you, even before you knew who I was. I stood with you when Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. I stood with you when you refused to sign the Accords, and when you went to Bucharest to try to keep Bucky from being captured. I kept you both from facing criminal charges, and I’ve worked like hell to help him get through all the other fallout of what Hydra made him do. Right?”

“Right,” Steve admitted softly, holding her a little closer.

“And then, when you were ready to try to approach Tony again, who made that happen?”

“You did.”

“Yeah. I did. So please tell me that you know I’m as loyal to you as anyone could be. You do know that, right?”

He looked into her eyes for a long, long moment. “I do know that, Sharon. I do. And I’ve been selfish as hell when it comes to you.”

Sharon rolled her eyes, lowering her forehead to rest against him and shaking her head. “I’m in love with a fucking moron,” she muttered to his chest. Then, looking up at him again, she said, “We’ll come back to that. Right now, I just need you to try to hear me about this.”

But Steve wasn’t hearing anything. He was blinking at her, his face an absolute mask of surprise.

“What?” Sharon demanded sharply.

“You… You said…”

“I said you need to listen to me.”

“You said you’re in love with me.”

“I said I’m in love with a moron, and that we’d come back to that. Focus!”

Steve smiled weakly, still looking at her with wonderment, as though he’d never seen her before but found her fascinating. It was definitely about time he looked at her like that, but right now she was trying to make a crucially important point that could have repercussions for the whole world.

“You said it yourself. You and Tony need to make up. You need to find a way to start working your way back to trusting one another. You both fucked up. Huge.”

“I didn’t-“

“You left him to deal with the Accords by himself. You turned half the team against him. And then you beat the shit out of him and threw your shield away like it was nothing.”

“I could have killed him. I didn’t.”

“No, you just left him for dead.”

Steve broke away angrily and turned back toward the window. “I think you and I might have different definitions of the word loyalty, Sharon.”

Undeterred, Sharon just closed the distance again. “Loyalty doesn’t mean saying what you want to hear. Loyalty means saying what you need to hear. And you need to hear Tony’s side of the story, which is what I just told you. Do you really think you’re blameless in all this?”

Steve scoffed furiously, but didn’t answer.

“Just think about it,” Sharon said, giving his arm a squeeze. “I’m going to go check on Tony and Bruce.”

She walked slowly across the large room, wondering whether she’d just ruined any chance she might have had with the man she loved. The man she’d just, entirely without her knowledge or consent, told she loved him. She hoped he would stop her, or say something to let her know he understood that she was trying to help him, and Tony, and the Avengers.

He didn’t.

#The Avengers #Captain America #Bucky Barnes #The Winter Soldier #Clint Barton #Natasha Romanoff #Bruce Banner #Tony Stark #Sharon Carter #S.H.I.E.L.D.

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russia2016world-blog · 4 years

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Russia- Honeymoon destination

In 2013, St. Petersburg became one of the top twenty tourist destinations and most exotic holiday destination in Europe as per many travel sites it is known as the most romantic city in Russia and continues to be picked as a honeymoon destination by tourists from around the world. Read on to discover Russia through the eyes of a newly married Indian couple on their first trip to Russia.

We didn’t need to think twice before finalizing Russia as our honeymoon destination. Situated on the Gulf of Finland and during the prime White Nights festival, it is truly the perfect place to celebrate love.

I married my husband in an elaborate ceremony in India and a luxurious honeymoon was mandatory to follow it. Though we had been together for almost 8 years, commencing married life was still a drastic life change for the two of us and we had to kickstart it with a bang.

Russia was just the thing we needed to serve that purpose. Love was in the skies of St. Petersburg, it felt almost supernatural the way the sun never fully set in the city just like the way our love couldn’t fade out for as long as the two of us breathe. And I was glad I had him by my side when I witnessed this city because one can go anywhere in the world and still feel as secure as home when they are with the one you love and Russia became the first of many of those places that we painted with memories of us. We took strolls and pictures on the banks of Neva River during the day with ice creams and watermelons and at night, got into full Russian spirit by trying to chug Russian vodka.

Also, the concept of cocktails-on-the-go was something we couldn’t give a miss. The locals were elated beyond limits at Mariinsky Theatre during the ballet and opera shows and celebrated the White Nights festival in full swing. On one such night, my husband surprised me with dinner on a cruise as we watched the bridge separate the city into two parts and raised toasts to our marriage.

Next day we navigated the Hermitage Museum and adored the palatial architecture and grandeur of the place. The Summer Gardens outside are a spectacle as well along with its white marble statues and fountains and adorned with beautiful flowers of all colours on all sides.

I am so glad Russia happened to us in this way. The picturesque landscapes and cultural extravaganza completely blew our minds. Thanks to Visit Russia for taking such good care of all our requirements and arranging a wonderful honeymoon for us and to my husband for the amazing company he is, in every journey of life!

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clouds-of-wings · 5 years

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Sweden & Finland x Injured!Reader

I read a Hetalia fan fiction with this premise on a different site and thought the characters were pretty hilariously ooc, so I tried to write a more realistic version. Please keep in mind that this is for fun, I don’t even read/watch Hetalia, it’s just an exaggerated version of Swedish and Finnish culture and mindset as I see them. The identity of the country the reader is supposed to be shall remain secret...

Today was another difficult day to be (c/n). The larger nations loved to pick on you and steal your territory. You barely managed to get away with some bruises. You slowly trudged through the snow as you spotted a familiar house: the Nordics.

You knocked on the door and it was Finland who opened. He wasn't wearing pants and had dark rings under his eyes.

"Looks like you got... you know... beat up?" Finland said without flinching or expressing any emotion whatsoever.

"Please help me Finland!" you cried. "It hurts so much!"

"Yes." said Finland in a neutral tone, as if analyzing the situation. "Getting punched hurts. Everything hurts. I know." Silence. You looked at him expectantly. Finally he added: "I have some vodka if you want."

You followed Finland back into the house. Marco Hietala's newest solo project was playing at full volume and a single light bulb illuminated the room. You sat down on the sofa while Finland clinked with some half-empty bottles.

"Listen, could you please be more quiet with the music?" said a slightly irritated voice and Sweden entered the room, wearing pants. "Oh my personal non-universal deity, what happened to you (c/n)?" he added quickly when he saw your bruised face.

“Some bigger countries tried to take more of my land” you sniffled from the cold.

"So shocking! I did not even know that was possible!" said Finland and glared accusingly at Sweden who ignored it and brought you a bit of frozen surströmming which he pressed against your swollen cheek.

"They should not do that, that is rude." said Sweden in a calming voice. "Have you explained at them that the land is yours?" You nodded, fighting back tears.

"Maybe next time should I come with you so that we can explain it better." said Sweden. He sat on the sofa next to you and rubbed your shoulder with his free hand.

"Which country is it?" asked Finland who finally returned with the vodka.

"Russia and Germany want to divide me between them again." you muttered. Sweden gave a sigh of irritation and shook his head.

"I almost think the international law mean nothing to them." he said.

"Sniper rifle and Molotov are good for Russian invasions." opined Finland calmly. "Just bit of drugs and couple crazy Karelians. Kollaa kestää. Germans, don't know. Probably they burn too."

"Th-thank you Finland." you said with a choking voice. Sweden was still rubbing your shoulder, which was nice, but the surströmming was starting to melt. "C-can you lend me some snipers maybe? And Sweden, can you take that away?" Sweden nodded and smiled warmly, then got up to return the surströmming to its airtight box. Finland gave a non-committal "hm."

#sweden #finland #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #crowingses

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charanteleclerc · 5 years

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ice cold but not stone hearted

A/N: Based on the prompt from sloangreytrash: Seb is a vampire, and this quote must be worked in "You've been staring at me all night. Do you like what you see?" I hope I did it justice! I adore researching mythology, though there was a small stumbling block in the fact that Finland doesn't have vampiric mythology, so I made the stories very vague! Given half the chance I would love to do a full mythology story, I honestly just love writing my own takes on them. Sorry this took so long, life threw a lot of curveballs my way in a very short space of time, so doing anything was pretty much at the bottom of my priorities, but hopefully no more of that now!

As usual, prompts are always welcome! Thank you for reading! ❤️

Warning: There is violence in this, and blood. Full on vampires in this.

Crossposted to AO3 here

There was a new guy in town. He’d heard people whispering about it, once the ‘for sale’ sign had been taken down, despite the lack of selling points. The house was too far out of town, run-down, and far too big for any one person. And Finns, they were a superstitious set of people as a rule. There had always been stories about the woods, and certainly no-one from round these parts would even dream about buying that house. But the ‘sold’ sign went up, and the removal vans turned up anyway.

No-one saw the mysterious stranger to begin with. Then one person said they’d seen him. Confident, they said. Handsome. Then more and more people started to catch a sight of him, even talk to him. Charming, polite, smart. The ladies were flattered by him, the men wanted to be him (and were a little flattered themselves, though many would never admit to it). This man seemed almost too good to be true.

Kimi didn’t see him until almost two weeks after the stranger had move to town. It was late at night, having spent far too long at work after closing, and now his car wouldn’t start. He’d cursed his luck, and despite looking at the engine, he couldn’t actually see a problem. He was about to give it up as a bad job, walk home and ask his brother to tow it tomorrow, when the stranger drove up, stepping out of his car, looking concerned.

“Do you need help?” The man called, moving slowly towards Kimi. If he hadn’t already figured that this was the new guy (this town wasn’t exactly big), the man was only wearing a sweater despite the snowfall. Very new to the area. The country, even.

“Car won’t start.” Kimi replied. “Just my luck.”

“I know a few things about cars.” The guy shrugged. “Maybe I could have a look? It’d save you the walk home.”

Kimi shrugged, stepping back so the guy could have a look. The man walked quietly, almost silently, humming to himself when he peered over the car. He worked in silence for a few minutes, the eerie stillness of the snow surrounding them. Kimi leant up against his car, jumping slightly as the car turned itself on. The guy grinned sharply, all teeth, as he shut the bonnet. “Couldn’t have you walk home all alone, could we?”

“There’s not much to scare me.” Kimi smirked. The guy’s grin became more pointed.

“You can never be too sure.”

“Are you telling to believe in ghost stories?” He said in disbelief. The guy shrugged.

“Ghost stories, fairytales. All begin with a bit of truth, don’t they?” The guy nodded his head, turning and walking away. “Have a good evening.”

“And you.” Kimi replied, more from memory than actual politeness. He was a little confused - this man had literally pulled up out of nowhere, fixed his car, and then told him to believe in fairytales? He watched the headlights pull away into the fading snow, disappearing around the corner. Kimi shook himself, jumping into his car, trying to warm his hands.

He’d never even gotten his name.

~*~

The guy walked into his shop a few days later, sharp smile in place. And still no coat. This guy was going to freeze to death before those ghost stories of his chased him out of town.

“I’m guessing you made it home?” The guy asked, sauntering up to the counter. Kimi raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing you didn’t just come here to ask about me?”

The guy gave a throaty laugh. “You’re a hard one to trick. But you’re right. I’m having an old friend to stay, and I figured why not use the local stuff? And your shop came recommended by most of the town.”

“That’s because I’m the only liquor shop in town.” Kimi replied drily. “We don’t have much in the way of wine, though. Fair warning. Not a lot of what we do is dinner party stuff, doesn’t pair well with food.”

“I don’t think we were planning on doing a lot of eating.” The guy chuckled, as if he’d just heard a joke that the rest of the world wasn’t allowed to hear. “Mainly drinking, this time.”

“Uni friend?”

“Something like that.” The guy’s smile was almost disconcertingly pleasant. “What would you recommend?”

“Depends on how drunk you want to get.” Kimi shrugged. “We’ve got ciders and beers, vodka obviously, Kossu, Sima, Lakka. Take your pick.”

“Which one is your favourite?” The guy asked. Kimi met his gaze, quirking his lips.

“Vodka, everytime. Drier the better.”

“Then I shall take some of that.” The guy smiled, reaching forward for the pen and paper on the desk. “I can’t take it now, do you deliver?”

“No.”

“Shame.” That dangerous smile was back in full force. He scribbled down something, his script slanted. “In case I forget to come back.”

“What’s this?” Kimi asked, turning his head to try and get a better look.

“My name and number. You already know where I live.”

Kimi thought about lying, but something in those eyes made him decide not to. “Bit hard not to when everyone is gossiping about it.”

“Well, I never like to be the centre of attention.” The guy gave another small laugh. “I’ll be back later.”

“Can’t wait.” Kimi replied sarcastically, only checking what was written after he was gone. Sebastian. It suited him.

~*~

Sebastian seemed delighted when Kimi greeted him by name that evening. “You read it!”

“It was a note with only your name and number.” Kimi rolled his eyes. “Not exactly the most riveting read I’ve ever had.”

He couldn’t deny he didn’t like the way Sebastian’s smile seemed genuine, with actual happiness behind it. Before now, the expressions that he’d worn had all felt like masks, calculating. A wall to stop anyone from getting too close.

“Maybe I’ll come back when my friend has gone.” Sebastian said, like it was a challenge. Kimi shrugged, amused.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll remember that.” Was all he said, disappearing with his bottles into the darkening evening. Kimi turned to watch him go, but there was only an empty street. Huh. He moved fast.

~*~

He’s not sure what started it, but something had set the town on edge. Everyone was jittery, barely talking except in hushed whispers. Darted looks towards the trees. Sent a brief prayer to whatever deity they believed in everytime they strayed too close to the town limits. He knew the stories, of course he did. He was born and raised in this town, those stories were in his bones. But this was becoming ridiculous. Everyone was nervy. An old lady had muttered a prayer for his soul when he’d passed her earlier, giving him a terrified stare and running off when he’d tried to ask her what it was all about.

He’d shut the shop early, running around the corner and borrowing Rami’s dog under the guise that both he and the dog needed the exercise. No-one questioned it, which was a little rude, but he didn’t particularly care. He took the dog to the edge of the woods, determined to prove once and for all that there was nothing wrong with the fucking woods. That they were only ghost stories passed down through the generations when they had nothing else to entertain. The woods were just that. Woods.

Well, he would. But even Rami’s dog refused to go in after a few feet. She growled, fur all stood on end.

“Not you too.” Kimi groaned. “What is it with everyone today?”

He tried to coax the dog in, but she refused to budge forward, pulling on her leash back towards the house. Kimi finally gave in, taking the dog for a proper walk around town before handing her back to Rami. Then he headed back to the edge of the woods again.

“Don’t get all cowardly now Raikkonen.” He muttered to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There’s nothing wrong with the woods.”

He started walking in, trying not to think about the longer growing shadows. He’d never let the town soothsayers get into his head before, he wasn’t about to start now. He felt the snow crunch underfoot, crisp and untouched. Once he’d gotten past the stupid fear that’d been building all day, it was nice out here. Quiet.

He could see a house growing out of the trees ahead of him, a few lights on. Sebastian must be home then. He’d never actually seen the inside of the house, this being about as close to the building as he’d dare to be when he was a teenager. With someone actually living there, it wasn’t so much a haunted house anymore, maybe it was a good time to have a nosy around. He wandered towards the front of the house, humming to himself.

Then he heard the scream.

His insides ran cold, like he’d been turned to ice. He froze, not sure which way to look, which was to turn. Which way to run. He tried to slow his breathing, trying to convince himself that it was just a figment of his imagination. Then came another, sharp and bloodcurdling and terrified.

He ran towards the house, desperate for Sebastian to hear him.He banged on the door, not wanting to shout. He didn’t want whatever caused that to come this way. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the air still. He took a deep breath, turning around slowly.

There was a man standing in the driveway, teeth bared and dripping. His eyes were frenzied and ruby red, and he was looking at him like he was prey. A snarl ripped out of the man’s throat, and he was running straight at Kimi, teeth - no, fangs - open. Kimi shut his eyes, hoping it’d be over quickly.

It never came at all.

When he opened his eyes, Sebastian was wrestling the man off him, talking in a language he didn’t understand. The man shook Sebastian off, but he didn’t make another attempt at Kimi, taking off down the drive instead. Really, really quickly.

“Get in.” Sebastian snapped, hauling Kimi to his feet. “Now.”

Kimi did as he was told, stumbling into the house. He could feel himself shaking, terror still gripping him. “What… what was…”

"What are you doing here?” Sebastian’s voice was like a whip. “How stupid do you have to be to go out wandering by yourself?”

“I wasn’t expecting… that!” Kimi shot back, anger starting to rise. It didn’t seem like Sebastian was about to tear him to pieces, he could get a little angry. “Who expects that?”

“I told you!” The power behind Sebastian’s voice sent him stumbling back a couple of steps. “I told you the first time, that maybe you should believe in ghost stories!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but how was I supposed to take that as a warning?” Kimi spat. “Kimi, stay out of the woods, there’s a crazy bloodsucking monster in there!”

“He’s not crazy.”

“He looked pretty crazy to me when he was getting ready to tear my throat out!”

Sebastian stopped at that, the fury fading from his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he’d get so… out of hand.”

Kimi made a noise, walking up to Sebastian until he’s standing nose to nose with him. He vaguely wonders if this is what it’s like to look the devil in the face. “I’m not sure I want to see your uncontrollable.”

He turned to leave, but Sebastian yanked his hand away from the door. “You can’t go out there.”

“What, got another monster out there?”

“Kimi.” Sebastian stepped in front of him. “I was able to stop him last time. I might not be able to stop him again.”

“Maybe you need to get a leash on your pet.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed. “Don’t call him that.”

“What, he isn't?” Kimi sneered. “Are you scared of him too?”

Sebastian snarled, and fuck, he wasn’t expecting to see fangs actually appear. Sebastian’s eyes were turning a hazy red, he was shaking all over. Kimi backed up, panic flaring again. His own stupid mouth was what would finally get him killed. Figured.

“Sebastian?” He tried, hoping his voice was holding steady. “Sebastian?”

Those red eyes were locked on him, and Sebastian was smirking again. It was dangerous, and predatory, and fuck, he was a little turned on. Mostly frozen to his core, but a little turned on.

Sebastian started moving towards him, but stopped suddenly, like he couldn’t move. There was a long moan, as if he were in pain. “Sebastian?” Kimi asked again, tentatively. Sebastian stuck out a hand.

“Don’t.” He hissed. “Stay there.”

For once, he listened. He stood there, watching Sebastian try and gain control again. It was some kind of morbid fascination, or lack of self-preservation. Something like that. He shouldn’t be so drawn to this, when only seconds ago Sebastian had been looking at him like he was a tasty snack. He still wasn’t completely sure that Sebastian wouldn’t just pull off one of his limbs just to gnaw on.

“Why did you come here?” Sebastian gritted out. Kimi gaped. Sebastian snapped his head up, and whilst his eyes weren’t red, he looked pissed. “Why did you come here?”

“To the woods?” Kimi asked. Sebastian snarled.

“No, to my house. I chose it specifically because no-one comes here.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Kimi could hear that he sounded petulant, and Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t! I just ended up here.”

“You nearly died.”

“Yeah, that hadn’t really been part of my plan for the evening.” Kimi tried to joke. Sebastian ignored it.

“If my protection hadn’t stalled him, you would’ve been.” Sebastian snapped, stalking towards him. “I can’t be there every time you decide to risk your neck.”

Kimi blinked. “Protection? What protection?”

“My name.” Sebastian explained slowly, as if he were talking to a child. Rude. “It’s a protection spell, to read the true name of a vampire.”

“So you are… you are a vampire?” Kimi heard his voice get high. “Oh fuck, I need to sit down.”

“The floor is all yours.” The first traces of that clever, witty man were starting to appear, beneath the cracks in the fury. “Feel free.”

“Thanks.” Kimi replied, promptly sitting down. It had been offered. “So… vampire. Huh.”

“You’re actually taking this well.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “No screaming yet. Or pitchforks.”

“Why, do people usually come at you with pitchforks?”

“Not since about 1720, I admit.” Sebastian looked almost amused. “Like they stood a chance.”

“Have you killed people?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Kimi felt his heart starting to thud again. “Was that scream out there? Was that a person?”

“Yes.” Sebastian sat down in front of him. “Does that bother you?”

“I... don’t know.” Kimi admitted. “I think I’m still processing.”

Sebastian hummed, watching him. Kimi could feel his skin prickle. “Are you going to kill me? Or eat me? Or drink? Whatever it is you do.”

“No.” Sebastian cocked his head. “Why would I go to the trouble of giving you protection and then kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Kimi shook his head. “Why did you give me protection?”

“Because you’re interesting.” Sebastian explained. “I like interesting things.”

Kimi scowled. “I’m a thing?”

Sebastian sighed. “I’ve been alive since 1506. Everyone is a thing to me. Except my own kind, and in all honesty, I don’t keep in contact with a lot of them.”

“That’s a really long time to be lonely.” Kimi blurted out. Sebastian gave him a long look. “Sorry.”

“You’re right.” Sebastian replied, a little wistful. “It is a long time to be lonely.”

The door creaked, and it was all he could not to jump up and start running. Sebastian was between him and the door, and Sebastian seemed unconcerned. A young man walked in, looking embarrassed. Sebastian raised his head a little, and then man stopped.

“Are you good?”

The man nodded in answer, and Sebastian relaxed. “Kimi, this is Charles. Charles, Kimi.”

“Sorry for earlier.” Charles said before Kimi could even open his mouth. “I’m not normally that careless.”

“I won’t happen again.” Sebastian said, an edge to his voice. Charles shook his head. Sebastian stood, offering his hand to Kimi. “I’ll take you home.”

Kimi let himself be pulled up and led out the door, Charles still standing by himself. “He doesn't look dangerous.” Kimi offered, feeling sympathy for him suddenly. He probably couldn’t help wanting to suck him dry.

Oh god, look at him. One traumatic episode in his life and he was already siding with the monsters.

“It was careless.” Sebastian replied, walking Kimi to his car and opening the door. “He should’ve known better.”

Kimi didn’t answer, pretending to be occupied with the seatbelt. Sebastian didn’t say anything, putting the car into gear and tearing off down the driveway. If it’d been any other time, he could probably appreciate the car and the drive and just hanging out with a hot bloke, but his mind just couldn’t focus. They sped through the woods, and the trees and the shadows inbetween them were suddenly chilling to him. He sneaked a look at Sebastian, but he could barely see him in the dark. He kept his eyes on the road, only relaxing when he saw houses and street lights through the trees.

“You’re scared.”

Kimi started, glancing over. He could see him now, the shadows casting long over his face, his expression impassive. “A little.” Kimi said, pulling his coat further around him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sebastian replied evenly. They pulled up in front of his house, and Kimi frowned.

“How did you know where I live?”

Sebastian smirked. “I told you, I like interesting things.”

“Stalker.” Kimi muttered, getting out of the car. He didn’t turn back until he was at his front door, feeling awkward for the first time. He raised his hand slightly, and Sebastian nodded, driving off. Kimi sighed, heading inside, slumping onto the first seat he could find.

Vampires. Fucking hell.

~*~

The world was still turning when he woke up, and his life hadn’t stopped just because he’d found out that supernatural creatures of the dead were a thing. He went to work, and tried to put that little bit of information as far out of his brain as possible. If he started to dwell on him, he might really start to panic, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. So he carried on like normal, and he did the same the next day, and the day after that. Sebastian seemed to stay up in his house and far away from the town, and he was beginning to convince himself that it had all been a horrible, vivid dream.

He was beginning to be successful about pretending that the whole night had never happened, when Sebastian walked back into his shop, eyeing him like he was about to start screaming. Which, he could. He might, if he didn’t want to look insane.

“Welcome to the Iceman, we have a variety of alcohol’s on offer -”

“Kimi.”

“Including from local distilleries and old traditional recipes -”

“Kimi.”

“Feel free to ask about anything -”

“Kimi!” Sebastian shouted, standing in front of him. “Stop ignoring me!”

Kimi glared, crossing his arms. Sebastian sighed, looking annoyed. “I did come here to see if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. I see people turn into supernatural creatures all the time. Did I not mention, my brother’s a werewolf?” Kimi said sarcastically. “Of course I’m not okay! I nearly had my throat ripped out by a vampire!”

“Say it a little louder, I don’t think someone in the next town heard you.” Sebastian hissed. “I don’t actually want to move to Siberia, amazingly.”

“Why, lack of people to kill?” Kimi snapped. Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

“Charles has gone. He won’t be coming back.”

“Good.”

“Are you ever going to thank me for saving you?”

“You were the one that put me in danger in the first place.” Kimi raised an eyebrow. “You apologise.”

Sebastian sneered. “I’m not going to apologise for being myself.”

“Then I’m not going to thank you.” Kimi shrugged. “Are you going to buy anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Sebastian stared in disbelief for a few seconds, then turned abruptly on his heel, slamming the door behind him on the way out. Kimi let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, sitting down shakily. He didn’t his heart was going to last if Sebastian kept turning up. Hopefully he’d take the hint and move the fuck away from here (and him).

~*~

He didn’t take the hint.

He walked in the very next day, scowling. “Sorry. For being a… you know. And moving to this town and making your life complicated.”

Kimi blinked. “Huh?”

“I’ve apologised.” Sebastian said, scowl deepening. “Now you say thank you.”

“Thank you.” Kimi repeated, mind still playing catch-up. “Huh?”

Sebastian walked up to the counter, leaning over close to Kimi’s face. “I don’t like having to apologise.”

“Don’t be an idiot then.” Kimi replied. His self-preservation really was pathetic. “I thought you were angry with me.”

“I am.” Sebastian said, watching him carefully. “I thought you were scared of me.”

“I am.”

Sebastian grinned, and honestly, it was possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wasn’t pretending in front of him, and it was dangerous and inviting and almost carefree. “You don’t seem it.”

“You don’t seem angry.” Kimi pointed out. Sebastian shrugged.

“I’m sure I’ll tell you that I don’t like to apologise again in the future.”

“You sound like you’re planning on hanging around.”

“Depends.” Sebastian said lightly. “Do I have something to stay for?”

Kimi smirked. “Are you asking?”

“Yes.”

“The maybe.” Kimi said, pulling back a little. Sebastian made a noise under his breath, trying to follow. “No, I’m not going to be your concubine, or succubus, or whatever it is you have. This human would like to have a date.”

Sebastian smiled, delighted. “I can be patient.”

“You’ll have to be.”

Sebastian watched him for a second, straightening up. “Would you like to come over tonight?”

Kimi eyed him warily. “Am I going to have another near death experience?”

Sebastian smirked. “No.”

“Sure then.” Kimi nodded. “Will I get to see your coffin?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Sebastian said, walking towards the door. Kimi gaped.

“Wait, you actually have a coffin?”

He only got a laugh in response. Damn, he really hoped there was.

~*~

Vampires, it turned out, were incredibly boring. They lived like normal people, where was the fun in that? The coffin didn’t exist (the story persisted, despite the fact there had only been one vampire with a flair for dramatics using them, apparently), and Sebastian’s house was nothing like an old castle. He did have some interesting pieces, it was impossible to live for five hundred years and not collect a single thing, Sebastian said. But underneath it all, it was just a normal house.

“You’re disappointed.” Sebastian said, amused, as they climbed up the stairs. Kimi shrugged.

“All the stories say you live in creepy castles. This isn’t a creepy castle.”

“I do have a creepy castle.” Sebastian said, grinning. Kimi stared. “Really. Well, less a castle, but definitely a mansion at least.”

“Why aren’t you there?”

Sebastian looked at him. “I don’t age, Kimi. It’d look strange if I’m supposed to be sixty and I still look like I’m in my mid-twenties.”

Kimi had to give him that. “So you move around, what, every decade?”

“Pretty much?”

“Since you’ve been a vampire?”

“Not the first hundred years. People knew what we were then, they were scared enough not to come close. And the bloodlust is the only thing you can concentrate on for about a hundred years.”

“Right.”

Sebastian cocked his head. “People don’t really find out about me anymore. Definitely not humans. It’s nice to talk about it, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“It doesn’t.”

Sebastian stepped closer. “Are you sure?”

Kimi smirked. “It’ll take a few more than old stories to scare me, remember?”

Sebastian stepped even closer, crowding him back up against the wall. “I’ve never met someone so foolish.”

“Have you ever talked to a human long enough to find out?”

“No.”

“We’re all pretty foolish.” Kimi murmured. “We do a lot of stupid things.”

“Is this a stupid thing?”

“Still figuring it out.” Kimi replied. Sebastian’s eyes darkened, and he trailed a finger down Kimi’s face, down his throat.

“What do you want?”

“Everything.” Kimi whispered, and it was all that Sebastian needed. Kimi felt himself being lifted up, pinned up against the wall. Sebastian trailed soft kisses down his throat, a hint of teeth grazing. Kimi whimpered, and Sebastian’s mouth was on his, swallowing any sound he made. Kimi wrapped his legs around Sebastian’s waist, fisting a hand in Sebastian’s hair. Sebastian pulled away, that dangerous smirk still on his face.

“Close your eyes.” Sebastian commanded him. Kimi did as he was asked, only opening them when he felt himself being lowered onto a bed. Sebastian chuckled at his confused expression.

“I can move faster than you. Didn’t want to test your ability to withstand that right now.” Sebastian explained, tugging his shirt off. “I’ve other plans for you.”

“Get on with it then.” Kimi huffed, pulling his own shirt off. Sebastian chuckled again, crawling up the bed and straddling Kimi.

“Not very patient, are we?” Sebastian murmured, raking his fingernails down Kimi’s side. “What shall we do about that?”

Kimi whined as Sebastian started to work at his jeans, pulling them down slowly. Sebastian smirked, as he peeled of his own clothes one by one, before crawling back onto the bed. “Sebastian.”

“Kimi.” Sebastian replied. He leaned over Kimi, biting gently down Kimi’s neck. Kimi whined again, scraping his nails down Sebastian’s back. Sebastian finally moaned, warm against his neck. “Kimi.”

“Get on with it.”

Sebastian’s eyes were dark again, and he was trailing downwards again, open mouthed kisses against Kimi’s torso. Sebastian licked up Kimi’s dick, tasting, watching Kimi squirm beneath him. “What do you want?” Sebastian asked again, watching.

“Everything.” Kimi ground out, gripping onto Sebastian’s hair again. “Please.”

Sebastian swallowed down, holding Kimi in place with ease. Kimi tightened his grip on Sebastian’s hair, whimpering when Sebastian hummed around him. Kimi couldn’t think, his brain was working at a speed he couldn’t keep up with. Everytime there was a hint of teeth, he’d shiver, anticipating a danger that never came. He was coming alive, his body electric, his world centred down to just him and Sebastian.

“I’m -” Was all Kimi managed to utter before he was arching off the bed, falling and crashing harder than he ever had. He gasped, watching Sebastian pull off, his eyes tinted red. “Sebastian.”

“You’re beautiful.” Sebastian whispered, coming up and kissing him hard, bruising. “You’re imperfect, and so beautiful.”

“Do you need to…?”

Sebastian shook his head, blinking rapidly. “No, no, I need…” He trailed off, keeping his head down. Kimi sat up and looked down, and could see Sebastian’s fists clenched tightly.

“Blood.” Kimi filled in. Sebastian nodded, quick. Kimi raised his arm up, raising an eyebrow when Sebastian looked up, shocked. “I give something back.”

He could see Sebastian trying to ignore the urge, but his body won out over his mind, and teeth were sinking down into his arm, Sebastian moaning onto his skin. Kimi hissed a little, but the pain was gone as quickly as it came, only needing to wince a little when Sebastian pulled off.

“Thank you.” Came the quiet words. Kimi flopped down onto the bed, pulling Sebastian with him, putting his arm over Sebastian.

“No thinking now. Sleep.”

“Kimi.”

“Or just lie there. Whatever it is you do.” Kimi yawned, closing his eyes. “I’m sleeping.”

He heard a huff of laughter, and then silence, a cool hand stroking over his new wound gently, as if it could be closed by sheer willpower. Kimi smiled to himself, and let sleep take him.

~*~

Kimi blinked awake, the room bathed in a cool light, the curtains pulled open. He groaned, turning and pulling the duvet further over his head, before he noticed there was someone still lying next to him. Kimi pulled a face, frowning a little at Sebastian.

“Have you been there all night?” Kimi asked. Sebastian shrugged, watching him carefully.

“Nothing better to do.”

“You’ve been staring at me all night.” Kimi teased. “Do you like what you see?”

Sebastian didn’t answer, just watched. Kimi sighed, propping himself up. “Are you freaking out? Because that really shouldn’t be you, that should be me.”

“That’s why, I think.” Sebastian said quietly. “Why are you not?”

“I did.” Kimi admitted. “Then I got over it. So you’re a vampire. So what?”

“Kimi, I’ve killed people.” Sebastian sounded tired. “I’m not a good person.”

“I never claimed to be either.” Kimi said, feeling frustrated. “I meant it when I said that I want everything. You’re not corrupting my soul, or asking me to kill people for you. You haven’t even asked me on a date.”

“I don’t eat.”

“So we go and do something else. I don’t care, Sebastian. There’s something about being with you that feels right, and you said it yourself, I’m interesting.”

Sebastian gave a little laugh, relaxing just a bit. “I did say that. It might be the first time you’ve actually listened to me as well.”

“I listen. Don’t always follow.” Kimi said. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll go.”

Sebastian made a pained noise. “I want this. I want this so badly, Kimi, but there are so many things that could go wrong. You’re so breakable, I’m dangerous, if I stay, I’m putting you at risk.”

“If you leave, you’ll be at risk of breaking my heart.” Kimi whispered. “Please don’t do that.”

“What about when I have to leave in ten years.” Sebastian tried. “What then?”

“We’ll cross that problem in ten years.” Kimi muttered, laying back down again, almost nose to nose with Sebastian. “Right now, you’re not going anywhere. And by anywhere, I mean anywhere but this bed.”

Sebastian laughed, pulling Kimi closer. “Only if you’re you’re not.”

No. He definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

#sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #charles leclerc #simi #f1 fanfic #vampires #mentions of death #blood #smut

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finewalls · 5 years

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2, 9, 23 👀

Well hello there love!

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Like Christmas holidays I always want to spend in Finland but like any other holiday I would love to travel!

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

I have visited Sweden like 100 times so I know that pretty well.. but I have never been to Russia and I wanted to go to the World Cup last year but didn’t get the chance :( someday I’ll finally take the train to St Petersburg!

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

Koskenkorva and Vodka mostly.. but like any hard liquor really fhdjkdjfhdk

Thanks love!

Not from the USA asks

#ask game #thank youu

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allthefandomloveandimagines · 6 years

Text

overwatch heroes having a smol Finnish s/o

For this case we are going to presume that theu met you in your native country (I personally love finland so thank u for requesting this)

🇫🇮disclaimer: these are STEREOTYPES I do not believe them or agree in anyway 🇫🇮

Soldier 76- when he first starts dating you he tries to please you by adapting to certain stereotypes, the first one being that you are immune to the cold. He constantly tries to get you to play in the snow with him and often drags you out before you are ready. As a result you hands and feet freeze while he throws snowballs at you. He enjoys the snow since he's never spent a lot of time in it and with you being so small he feels more childish at at price because you are comforting and not threatening at all.

Reaper-though you don't look it, reaper immediately assumes that you [like the stereotype suggests] only listen to hard metal music. You didn't notice that he believed this until he started playing it in the car, and when you were home, and starting singing random lyrics when he was showering. As for being smol, he is constantly leaning over you and looking down. When you sleep he practically engulfs you and you like it.

Mcree- this boi immediately assumes you can drink as much as he can. He constantly takes you to bar hope with him and tries to influence you to have a drinking contest with him. When you drink you typically have one or two but one day mcree dares you to drink a whole bottle of vodka by yourself and bets other guys at the bar that you can do so. You drink 1/3 and fall out of your chair but he quickly scoops you up and carries you home apologizing like a mad man.

Hanzo- hanzo was looking for a quiet and respectful little lady. He got a respectful little lady, but, you aren't exactly quiet. You like to spend a lot of time talking to hanzo about trivial things just to spend time with him and to hold is attention. It's sometimes hard for you to read him so your try to wiggle emotion out of him by being unpredictable and flirtatious. You often spontanious grab him and try to dance with hiim or get him to pick you up because even he is still much taller than you. He usually refuses [not wanting pda] and you start to complain. Then he shuts you up with a sweet kiss which leaves you utterly speechless.

Genji - genji assumed you be a laid back and calm little lady he could keep on his arm to have his back when he's lonely. You do always have his back but you are not laid back. As your relationship with genji perused he learned that you are quite bossy and straight forward and he quickly learned to treat you like his queen, not his pet. When people mess with genji you quickly stand up to them, despite your size. You often mouth off to others for making jokes about him being part machine and you can flip a table and stab a bitch before they can even Finnish 😉 saying his name.

Reinhardt - you become his little backpack. He is SO HUGE compared to you that he literally just moves you with the flick of his wrist. He puts you over his shoulder, on his back and you just let him. He knows a little more about finland than the other overwatch agents and is more aware of what you like. He takes the best care of you and forces you to bundle up in the house and outside to make sure you don't get sick. Cuddling up to him is literally like cuddling a grizzly bear. He is also a very large heater.

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wholesome-lesbiab · 7 years

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hellow,i saw your post about finland being a land of drunk and depression. i'm heading to finland in a few months and have to do a field and desk research. i wanted to know what your opinions where in that case and why. have a wonderful day and thank you in advance.

Well I’m not gonna lie but the people in Finland really have serious tendencies of alcoholism and depression. I wasn’t even exaggerating when I made that post. I know it sounds bad and at this point I should maybe try to convince you otherwise but what can I say, I’m a Finn and I know my country. But then again, I’m yet another depressed Finn who drinks to her feelings so I might give a too grim description.

I have lived my 19 year old life in Finland, but three months ago I began my life in Ireland and I have come to realize how so much more depressing Finland is than I thought. I was baffled when total strangers came to talk to me with a smile on their face and asking how I was doing, or if I needed help. Once I was sitting in a bus and an old lady sat next to me and started chatting. Of course to a Finn like me, small talk can be uncomfortable but it felt nice when strangers don’t just glance at you, in a rude way or not, or just completely ignore you. That’s the Finnish way. In Finland we don’t talk to strangers. We don’t smile to them and if someone looks like they might need help, we ignore. I know, sounds horrible. I recall there was a news paper article few years back about an old man having a seizure or a heart attack or something in a shop and people around him just ignored him and didn’t call for help. (Not 100% sure). We just…. mind our own business I guess. So you can only imagine how startled I got when strangers here in Ireland started smiling to me and all that. So yeah, this is one reason, out of the many other reasons, why I think the people in Finland seem easily as depressed. It’s easy for foreigners who don’t know anything about Finland and the Finns come here and immediately be horrified of our little to no emotions, and thus make the assumption that we are all depressed. It’s another thing, not showing really any emotions.

The dark, gloomy winter plays its part part, too. The days start getting darker pretty quickly after summer. In winter when you wake up to work/school, it’s pitch black, and when you come home, it’s already dark or getting darker. So you barely see any sunlight the whole day. When I was still in high school I used to stay after school to study for an hour or two. I usually left at 5- ish and it was pretty dark already. So the only sunlight I really saw was the one coming from windows at school hallways when I walked to another class. The classroom windows were always covered in curtains, so no sunlight for students I guess. My point is that winter times are the most “gloomy” times for a Finn. It’s no wonder, if you barely see any light for months. In northernmost Finland the sun doesn’t even rise above the horizon at all in the winter. (source) But it’s not only the darkness that makes us feel miserable. It’s the weather. In my personal opinion snow is absolutely beautiful, when I’m inside. I love looking at snowy landscapes and all that but I hate walking in the snow, especially when it’s up to your knees. We don’t have those kinda winters anymore in the south of Finland where I lived. Starting from couple of years ago we have had mostly rain during winter instead of snow. And guess what’s raining in the summer? especially in midsummer? Snow. It was so depressing to wake up in the Christmas morning to see no snow in the ground. Instead the ground was all muddy and disgusting from the rain. We even have a Christmas song where it says “If snow doesn’t rain on Christmas, can Santa even come?” or something like that, I know, a poor translation, but you get my point. But the Finnish winter doesn’t feel like winter if there’s no snow to almost drown in. I miss those kind of winters. If you go to Lapland, there should be plenty of snow. Just quickly gonna mention that summers are horrible, too. Just constant rain, and sometimes as I said, snow.

I’m sorry, this is turning out a lot longer than I thought but I just have so much on this topic. Next on, the alcoholism. I personally can’t be bothered to start talking about the alcohol regulations because I’m not that educated in them, but about the drinking culture I can talk about. (I will try to keep this short) It’s socially acceptable to be drunk. Everyone kinda expects you to get wasted, or at least have a drink, at a social gathering/party etc, at least from my own personal experience. We have a drink or two for pretty much any occasion, especially if we are in sauna. It’s incredibly satisfying to sit and sweat your ass off in a hot steamy sauna and drink a cold beer or cider, you gotta try it or else you can’t say that you ever even visited FInland. Anyways, It’s easy to fall off the wagon. At first you just drink something very light sometimes and suddenly you find yourself hammered every other day, or wishing you were which is pretty much my case. What I’m saying is that I guess in Finland it’s easy to adopt these bad habits when it comes to drinking. And I think it’s pretty obvious but sadly it’s not that long way from alcoholism to death. When it’s midsummer, everybody gets drunk. The majority usually goes to celebrate it to their summer cottages, which happen to be near lakes. Some of them think it’s a good idea to go for a swim, or just fool around the lake, when you’re drunk. Every midsummer the death count is high. In 2017 it was 6. In 2016 it was 14. In 2015 it was 9. In 2010 it was 21. The reason for these deaths is not always drowning, it’s also drunk driving and fights.

I think I should stop this here, not only because my work is starting soon but also because I don’t want to possibly frighten you anymore. But when you come to Finland, keep in mind that these are the “stereotypes”. Not every Finn is emotionless and secretly craves death and seek solace in a vodka bottle. Just a little tip: don’t small talk with a finn and dont greet them with a kiss or a hug when you see them. It’s incredibly uncomfortable for us, especially if you’re not close to the Finn. I feel like dying every time when I’m getting kisses or hugs here in Ireland. Also there’s no such thing as “awkward silence” in Finland. Most of us enjoy the silence.

Again, this was from my own personal experience. Some other Finn from a different part of the country might disagree with some of these. (Would be glad to hear if any Finns reading this). Thanks for asking and i hope you really enjoy your stay in Finland. (Also I have to apologize, this was kinda rushed and probably incoherent but I guess I got my opinions out on this case pretty well)

Edit: wait, you did want my opinion on the case of depression and alcoholics in Finland and not about the field and desk research? Sorry it’s monday

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mcspurs · 7 years

Text

Raua Needmine

APH Rare Pair Week, day 2

Prompt: Music

Characters: Estonia & Finland (OCs).

Kalju Salumäe (Estonia) belongs to @brothuania, Jaakko Järvelä (Finland) belongs to me. Also available on ao3. Enjoy! c:

"Jaakuke, have you made any plans for the evening already?"

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, missä vain mä kuljen, kuiskii kieli katala. Sen silmät mua katsoo olutlasin pohjalla; sen hymyilevän huomaan vieraan tytön huulilla.

The Finn had spent the entire day wearing nothing but checkered pajama bottoms, safely tucked in a huge blanket, devouring copious amounts of snacks, and binge listening to at least ten years old Finnish schlagers. In other words, he did not quite resemble someone who wanted to leave his safe nest for no good reason. Thick blond stubble on his cheeks and chin, reaching upper parts of his neck, clearly indicated that Jaakko had not shaved for about two days. A water jug, together with a few coffee pots, all empty, awaited being delivered to the dishwasher. The man was again in the doldrums he hadn't expected but was not shocked by in the slightest. At any rate, the last week was subtracted forcibly from his life.

Jaakko set aside his skull-shaped mug he was holding before he tentatively examined the Estonian now leaning against the doorframe with a difficult to read facial expression. He was certainly not in the mood, neither for riddles nor Kalju's stupid inquiring.

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, minne vain mä kuljen, on tuo tunne mukana. Kaikenaikaa onneni on vaakalaudalla; jos se ei käy sisälle, se oottaa ovella...

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Trying to sound angry came to naught because the pinnacle of Jaakko's vocal possibilities at the moment was a slightly shaky, clearly exhausted undertone. To muster up a coherent reply was truly an accomplishment on the Finnish man's side and somewhere deep, Kalju was immensely proud of him.

"Not at all. I was just wondering whether you'd be willing to accompany me tonight somewhere." He paused, awaiting a reaction, though in vain. Not being one to give up easily, he continued. "It breaks my heart to see you in that miserable state, you know? I intend to drag you out from your depression cave."

Luoja auta, pidä kurissa! Kaidalla tiellä, poissa kiusauksista. Luoja auta; vaikka tukista! Pidä mieli kirkkaana ja paita puhtaana.

Noble as it was, it couldn't work out, not according to a rough draft of the rest of the day Jaakko had sketched already in his head. His idea was not grand, not in the slightest, though it did not include leaving the bed. Let alone the entire house. It felt like all the demons he strived to avoid at all costs would get to him the moment his foot crossed the threshold. Something inside him twitched uncomfortably – that was not the desired scenario. In the end, his place was here, namely among cushions, blankets, woolen socks, cozy clothes, and vintage music with lyrics he knew by heart. And his beloved black dog by his side. Musti nestled himself comfortably in his owner's lap as he awaited caresses and promises he's a good boy.

"Not going to say anything? At all? Don't make me take your silence for consent."

"Voi ei..." Short and to-point, as always. Jaakko was not a particularly exhaustive interlocutor, at least not before a few shots of vodka sent him on a self-discovery trip to his inner source of endless, often one side-centered, chatter. His lips formed a thin, tightly sealed line as if he feared to slip out any more words. He wasn't really in the mood to start getting ready or, God forbid, actually socialize with real people. In the stubbornness contest between the two of them, however, there was no clear winning and losing side division, and this could mean only one thing.

"Jaakuke. Palun."

"Tä?" *

"I promise you won't regret going with me. It means a lot to me, and I want you to be present there. Please, kullake. It'll be fun."

Tuo varjo aina auringosta osan piilottaa, kauneimpiinkin uniin siipinensä liihottaa. Tänään kuljen hymyillen vaan tiedä tulevaa, pelimme kun etenee vain päivä kerrallaan.

Jaakko's hand kept brushing Musti's fur lazily, almost nonchalantly. Much like his favorite human, the dog wasn't up to changing the position. Several raindrops, first signs of the incoming rain, hit up against the windows. The weather acted on his advantage, giving him more reasons why he would stay home.

"I can't go out. It's raining, can't you hear that?"

"The rain won’t kill you. It's just a drizzle, and we have umbrellas. Come."

The singer's warm and soothing voice was slowly lulling him to sleep as if this depression nap he took earlier today wasn't enough.

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, minne vain mä kuljen on tuo tun--

Suddenly, the music stopped. Unsure what happened and what to blame for that intrusion, the Finnish man frowned, suspiciously puzzling around. In the meantime, Kalju casually locked his phone and slid it into the back pocket of his pants, unbothered by future Jaakko's reactions. Truly, any response would be cordially welcome. As of late he wasn't receiving many of those.

"How the fuck-- did you do that, the laptop's on the desk, and--"

"Jaakuke, I can use the mobile app to navigate Spotify on a desktop. The future is now. Come on, get dressed, shave this thicket off your face, or just trim it at least, and get in the car with me. I'm going to be pestering you until you agree, take my word for it."

The Spotify-related revelation caused the Finn to gape in an utmost unflattering fashion, but soon enough it dawned on him it was, in fact, possible. How could that slip his mind? His glance met Kalju's eyes, gentle, strangely encouraging. Much as he appreciated the thought and his boyfriend's diligence in pursuit of the goal, the Finn still didn't quite feel the urge to abandon his safe hideout.

"I promise we'll get some booze on the way back home," the Estonian resorted to bargaining, hoping for reaching a potential agreement. When the alcohol came to play, it was always much easier to convince the other man to cooperate. This method had proven to be effective many times before, and Kalju sincerely hoped it would work today too. He couldn't bear the sight of his loved one being this miserable for a few consecutive days. "We can refill the snacks drawer, too. And we'll binge watch a Netflix show of your choice."

Jaakko was as confused as unhappy with this turn of events, but he had no strength to further argue with the other man. Kalju simply knew his strengths and weaknesses and on top of that, knew how to make a successful bait. Gently shoving Musti off his lap, he proceeded to untangle the blankets tied in the likeness of a Gordian knot. Once he was free from the bed trap, the Finn sat on the verge of the mattress and dragged hands down his face.

"No niin, mennään nyt,**" he mumbled, sniffing himself and flinched with disgust. "I might be in need of a shower though, so you have to give me some extra time."

"You can have all of it. Almost, because we have to make it to our destination before six and it's reaching half past four."

"I don't even know what to wear," Jaakko complained. The entire room resembled a battlefield and, in a metaphorical sense, functioned as one during the past six days. No matter how often Kalju would clean it up, the mess would return double as intense. But having endless patience for the Finn made it much easier to cope with continuous cleaning. "I haven't done the laundry in so long..."

"This is why you're lucky to have me. I've prepared and ironed an outfit for you already. It's waiting for you in the wardrobe. All you have to do now is just get ready. I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

All the witty replies seemed to have abandoned his head. There was no use in fighting that statement, and Jaakko knew all too well Kalju was right. A short nod followed by an attempt at a weak smile had to work as thanks. But what would make the Estonian truly happy was the Finn lumbering to the bathroom, and Jaakko decided it won't hurt to comply with this humble request. Maybe some soap and running water will help cleanse his mind at least a bit. A small sauna session when they're back would be lovely, too... Nothing clears your mind better than steam and sweat

"There. Where are we even going? I haven't worn this shirt in ages. It almost feels weird."

Jaakko looked much better with his small beard nicely trimmed, clean, combed hair, and in a more decent attire than pajamas that had long since outlived their glory days, even if said shirt looked like someone had forcibly removed it from the eighties and placed in a wrong century. The full outfit contained a jacket as well, but Jaakko casually ignored it. Shifting from foot to foot, he awaited commentary.

"Well, judging by the look of it, I'm inclined to believe that," Kalju chuckled, much to the other man's embarrassment. "Last time I wore a shirt like that was about fifteen years ago."

"I'm here to remind you that it was you who picked it for me to wear tonight."

"Because the rest looked even worse."

"Look, if you keep roasting me, it's still possible for me to go back to bed and I will not hesitate before doing that."

"Sorry, you look great. It compliments your eyes. The shirt itself might not be the latest vogue, but somehow you two make a great team. Chin up, Jaakuke. Are we ready to leave now?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Can you explain why all that fuss is necessary? I could just wear a T-shirt."

"Of course you could," the Estonian agreed. "but I doubt you'd feel comfortable attracting all the disapproving glances of people present there. We go to a place where the dress code is in force."

"Namely where?"

"It's a surprise. I won't spoil it. Don't worry, you'll love it, or so I hope at least."

All the following incoherent grunts and mutterings were silenced down by a kiss from Kalju who had gotten up and came up to Jaakko to grab him by hand and usher him to the car waiting outside. The Finnish man was still wary. Of course, he trusted his boyfriend would always wish only good things for him, but old habits die hard. Even sat in the front passenger seat he was feeling weirdly anxious about the unknown destination of their -- was a date a correct term for that? Neither of them seemed to be willing to resume a conversation from earlier, so Jaakko turned on the radio without asking. An Estonian song, lyrical and a bit melancholic, quickly replaced the silence between men in the vehicle. The thought that the tune was perfectly fit for current weather - the rain had picked up significantly - crossed Jaakko's mind as their car made its way through the streets of Tartu. He recognized several buildings they passed by, the stores, cafes that remembered their little cliché coffee evenings, tenements in front of which he stood as Kalju was taking a touristy picture of him.

One of the many university buildings was on the horizon. An unpleasant chill went down his spine at the mere recollection of returning to work tomorrow, as his sick leave lasted only until then.

He liked his job, all the young, open-minded people around him were hungry for knowledge, and he was more than willing to share his experience with them. He wasn't ready for social interaction yet, and working as a lecturer was an occupation that required a lot of it. Jaakko will have to grin and bear it for some time before he feels comfortable again.

A few other songs passed before the news report at five thirty. The speaker spoke fast Estonian, and even despite being nearly fluent in it, Jaakko had issues with understanding certain words. He would have to ask Kalju about those later, granted he remembers. The car stopped in the parking lot mid report about a piece of news on Estonian IDs. The engine stopped, so did the radio. The trip was over, and Jaakko had to become a person again, as opposed to a recluse with his head in the clouds. Fleeing from an actual downpour that developed during their car ride, both men hid inside a small but cozy white building.

"Here we are. Do you recognize this place?"

"Not really," the Finn replied according to the truth. He was unsure whether this answer will be satisfactory or a disappointment to the other man, but there was no use lying. Wet hair strands were glued to his forehead, he tucked them behind his ear and glanced around. "Where are we?"

"Can you wait a bit more? I'd love to show you around, but I can't now. We've arrived just in time. I must attend to something now. When I'm done dealing with that, I'll take care of you."

"So what you're saying is you dressed me up in those fancy clothes and dragged out of the house just to ditch me in a random place in Tartu, Estonia," Jaakko cocked his eyebrow and made a face. "I don't know a soul here, Kaljuke, why are you doing this to me?"

"Can you please relax for a bit? No one will talk to you there. We didn't invite any audience for tonight."

"We? Audience?" The Finn was startled. "Can I still retreat to the car?"

"Not at all. If this helps, you're not supposed to be on the stage. Not you, me."

Before Jaakko could ask at least one additional question, he realized Kalju was pulling him towards large frosted glass door. Behind it, seemingly endless rows of (indeed empty) chairs faced a stage with a few strangers on it. They were holding paper sheets and forming two rows, taller men standing in the back while shorter guys occupied the front. He'd have to be completely ignorant not to realize who they were and what they were about to do in a few. A shy warm feeling filled his heart.

"I thought you quitted--"

Jaakko didn't finish the sentence because his interlocutor had suddenly gone missing. Shaking his head, he proceeded to take a seat in one of the front rows. Someone brought a drum and carried it until everyone was ready to start. Kalju wasn't present among the lined up men. Instead, he occupied an honorary place before them together with a blonde who seemed to be his good acquaintance. Making sure the microphone works just fine and smiling politely at a joke, as Jaakko assumed, the Estonian adopted a straight up position, visibly awaiting the right moment. He resembled a violin string, filled with pride and ready to be played by a skilled musician. They were puzzle pieces of something bigger, something noble. Part of the choir.

The man who brought the drum, hit it, therefore announcing the beginning of the spectacle. One row responded immediately, and the second joined after hearing the drum again. The low rumble turned up, masculine voices violently resonated in the hall. They were so loud Jaakko would hear them clearly if he sat in the last row and the audience was full. Closing his eyes, he let his mind absorb all the lyrics chanted by the choir. The perfectly synced machine had two outstanding performers, one of them being no one else but Kalju himself.

Käisid kolme ilmaneitsit, taeva tütarta tulista, lüpsid maale rindasida, soo peale piimasida.

He sunk into his seat and with a dreamy expression transferred himself into a part of his brain where the glass was still half full. The lyrics were grim, it's true, but he couldn't care less for that. It was a crucial part of his heritage, and Kalju's group paid respect to it.

Üks see lüpsis musta piima, sest sai rauda pehme’eda, teine valgeta valasi, sellest tehtud on teraksed, kolmas see veripunasta, sellest malmi ilma tulnud.

It's been a while since Jaakko felt that special. He could not remember when was the last time someone honored him that way. At this moment the only thing he wished for was a pair of those lips to linger on his own, to mark the line of his jaw, to whisper sweet nothings against his skin. He knew that if he peeked at Kalju now, particularly at his mouth, he would be damned. It was okay. There will be a lot of time for that once they return home.

'... oi Luoja, kuinka häntä mä rakastan.' ***

Some translations again:

* - What? (Huh?) ** - Alright, let's go now. *** - cheesy warning: oh God, how I love him

Songs mentioned: Marko Haavisto & Poutahaukat - Paha Vaanii Veljo Tormis - Raua Needmine

#aphrarepairweek2017 #aph estonia #aph finland #estfin #id like to thank Mar for proofreading that #skogkljslkdgj I made it in time #at least for me since it's still 11th for like 13 minutes only

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