#then i realised that was frank sinatra and it seemed a little silly after that lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nicknellie · 3 years

Text

Anonymous requested: I know in a post you said something about Alex getting sensory overload so for the requests maybe Alex getting sensory overload and Willie being there to do his best to help Alex out

Ahhh, I love this request so much! This is my favourite Alex headcanon that I have so I’m really glad you requested this. I wrote it as a mixture of what I go through when I get sensory overload and also what I’ve found through research so more people can hopefully relate. I haven’t proof-read it yet, but I’ll come back and do that later. Thank you so much for the request!

Title from All You’re Dreaming Of by Liam Gallagher.

TW: sensory overload, anxiety

When The World Is At Its Worst

Alex had three extremes: worrying himself so much that he overworked, worrying himself so much that he got nothing done, and worrying himself so much that he broke. Normally, he could cope with pushing himself too hard – at least that way he got things done, and when he ran out of errands to make himself run it gave him some time to relax and recalibrate. Getting little done was more stressful, but it tended to happen less often, so Alex didn’t see it as much of a problem. What Alex struggled with the most was pulling himself back together when he felt utterly ruined.

Sometimes – not as often as he worked too hard, but not as seldom as he worked too little – Alex would worry himself to the point where everything simply became too much. The point where every sensation was painfully overwhelming, distressing in a way nothing else really compared too. Lights shone too brightly, noises were amplified tenfold, and if something was touching him he could feel it like a hand clasped too tightly on his skin. His parents had said it was just him being sensitive, Willie had said it was probably something called sensory overload, but Alex just wished it didn’t happen to him.

The worst part was that it was usually caused by him working himself too hard, something he didn’t think he could have ever stopped if he tried. He would worry, which would make him work, which would worry him more if things weren’t going well, and then his mind would dissolve into a mess of disarrayed senses and feelings and it hurt. He would shut down, which only seemed to make his anxieties worse.

It hadn’t happened in a while though, so that made Alex feel a little better about the whole thing. Maybe, if he’d got lucky for once, those episodes were starting to go away. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about them so much now that they hadn’t happened in a few months. Maybe he could start to get on with his life as normal. He could hope, at the very least.

Exams week was coming up at Los Feliz. For Alex, when exam stress hit, it hit hard. He wasn’t even sure what worried him so much about exams. Perhaps it was the big fiasco that school always made about exams, having to sit in total silence with the threat of disqualification looming over you so much that it was nerve-wracking to even lift your head to look at the time. Perhaps it was the orderly rows and having an entire year group lumped in the hall together, making it feel so formal and suffocating and painfully important in a way it almost certainly wasn’t. Perhaps it was the unpredictability of it all, not knowing what would come up or what it would be best to revise.

It didn’t matter too much to Alex what was stressing him out – even when he knew what was causing his nerves, he had never been much good at combatting them. His strategy this time was to prepare for the exams as much as he could, force himself to soak in as much information as possible. He just wanted to give himself a chance to be confident that he knew everything because just maybe that would help him do well and calm down.

He had enlisted Willie to help him revise over the weekend. Willie was more than happy to do so – he had said he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his boyfriend even if it was just the two of them pouring over a biology revision guide for four hours straight. If Alex hadn’t been so conscious that he needed to be revising, he would have felt bad that he was spending time with Willie without spending time with him, but thankfully Willie truly didn’t seem to mind.

“Ten out of ten, hotdog,” Willie said triumphantly after Alex had given them his final answer to the quick quiz Willie had been giving him. “Third time in a row, too. You’re going to ace this test.”

Alex closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against his temples. He didn’t say anything. Willie had sounded certain that Alex would do well for the whole day, but the truth was that Alex felt like he was guessing most of the answers and getting them right by pure chance. Either that or Willie was giving him the benefit of the doubt and saying he was right when he was actually miles off. Despite the fact that he had constantly shown he knew what he was talking about, he still felt completely clueless.

Willie didn’t seem best pleased with Alex’s silence. “Hey,” they said, gently taking one of Alex’s hands. “You know your stuff. You’ll be fine. And if you’re really that worried, you’ve still got the rest of the week to refresh your memory. We’ve got this.”

Alex hummed noncommittally. He heard Willie sigh.

“Why don’t we take a quick break?” Willie suggested, running his hand through Alex’s hair.

At that, Alex’s eyes shot open, he sat up and immediately stiffened, looking wide-eyed at a baffled Willie.

“No,” he said, “I don’t need to take a break. I’m not going to be able to learn all this if I take time out.”

Willie looked at him, his brown eyes sympathetic. “I don’t want to push you too hard. At least get up and get a glass of water – we’ve been sat in the same place for hours, it’ll do you good to clear your head.”

“I don’t need to,” Alex repeated. How could he get up and walk away when he still had five more topics to cover? When he needed to doublecheck he understood everything and still have time to solve some physics problems afterwards? He couldn’t just ‘take a break’. It would ruin everything.

“Are you sure?” Willie said. They didn’t look convinced, but Alex wasn’t going to back down. He knew what he needed to do and he was going to stick to it.

He nodded shortly and then flicked to a new page. “Test me on this,” he told Willie, who – with a reluctant sigh – began to ask him questions about the information.

The problem was that Willie’s suggestion had thrown Alex off-balance. Now all he could think of was not working and how that would be detrimental, it didn’t even cross his mind that it didn’t matter because he was still working now. He suddenly found himself unable to concentrate on the questions and the ridiculously long sciencey words Willie was using, his mind bogged down with practical methods and half-remembered equations that had nothing to do with what he was revising.

He quickly started getting questions wrong, saying the first thing that came to mind only to be told that the right answer was something he should have known because it was obvious. With each wrong answer he became more and more distressed, tears stinging his eyes, feeling stupid.

“Breathe, Alex,” Willie said. “Take your time with the questions, you don’t need to rush it. This isn’t the exam, it’s just you and me here. You have all the time you need.”

But, Alex wanted to say, I won’t have all that time when the exam comes and I need to get this right now. He didn’t get how Willie couldn’t see that. So he kept guessing, giving answers he was sure were wrong, but his mind feeling so fogged that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He didn’t even realise he had started crying until Willie reached out to wipe a tear from his cheek and the sensation wasn’t soothing – he could feel it so deeply that it almost hurt.

Without thinking, he shuffled across the bed where they were both sat, out of Willie’s reach. For a brief moment, Willie looked confused, but then they seemed to realise what was going on and he didn’t try to move any closer.

Alex hated this feeling and he had been so sure that it was going to stop happening. But he had clearly been wrong, because now that he was sat in a different place it felt wrong. The way he could see his bedroom, from a slightly different angle to before, felt so strange and so alien that it hurt. The bedcovers he was sat on now were too cold and coarse against his skin, so he pulled his legs against his chest. That moved his shirt slightly, and he became painfully aware of how the material felt, how it clung to his body like a second skin, and that hurt too. He realised that the lights in his room were too bright, far too bright, so he clamped his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his eyes.

He heard the ruffling of bedsheets, presumably as Willie got up from the bed. He heard him flick the light-switch off and pull the curtains closed – a click that he felt like a knife in his skull and a grating drag that pounded against his ears. He pressed his thumbs over his ears while still keeping his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the noise. Everything was too loud, too bright, too something to be comfortable. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move.

He felt trapped.

There was no telling how long it went on for. He couldn’t move his hands away from his eyes to look at his watch, not that it was really the biggest thing weighing on his mind. In fact, for the first time in hours, there wasn’t much on his mind at all apart from how he just wanted to go back to feeling comfortable. He wanted to hear without it being too loud, look at things without hurting his eyes, take that break Willie had suggested – and probably apologise to Willie too.

These things usually lasted quite a while. If Alex had to guess, it would have been about fifteen minutes since he shuffled away from Willie when he slowly took his hands away from his eyes and ears and drew in a great, shuddering breath. He blinked his eyes open and was grateful that Willie had turned the lights down. He looked over to where Willie was, perched on the edge of the bed, watching Alex’s face carefully. Willie raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question, and Alex nodded.

“Can I touch you?” they asked softly. Again, Alex just nodded, still not feeling able to speak.

Gently, Willie reached out his hand and did the same thing that had sparked the overload in the first place, wiping away tears from Alex’s cheek. This time Alex didn’t shuffle away, but he didn’t lean into Willie’s touch either; it wasn’t insufferable anymore, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

“What do you need me to do for you, Alex?” Willie asked.

Alex thought for a moment, then made himself reach out and take Willie’s hand. Willie held it tightly, knowing that light touches were often worse than firm ones. Alex let his fingers gently trail along Willie’s palm and their wrist. He looked tearily into Willie’s eyes and almost felt himself smile at the reassuring look on Willie’s face.

“You’re okay, hotdog,” Willie told him. “You’re through the worst of it now. Just breathe. Dry your eyes and breathe.”

He did as he said, wiping at the dried tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. Willie squeezed his hand, close, reassuring, encouraging. He didn’t talk, he just let Alex calm down the way he needed to, saving most of the noise for when Alex was definitely ready.

“I’m sorry,” Alex croaked eventually. His voice box felt dry and scratchy.

Willie shook their head. “You have nothing to apologise for. You can’t help it.”

“I should be able to by now,” Alex protested.

“You might never be able to,” Willie said matter-of-factly. “That’s not a bad thing, it’s just something that happens to you. It sucks, of course it does, but this might be a part of you forever. You don’t need to apologise for something beyond your control.”

“It shouldn’t be beyond my control.”

Willie left a hesitant pause but then seemed to make his mind up. “Don’t let your parents get that into your head. Don’t let them make you believe that. I don’t care what they say about this – they don’t get it. Alex, there’s nothing about this that makes you weak or too sensitive or whatever it is they tell you. Lots of people get sensory overload, it’s not something alien or weird. It’s not something you can stop forever, so please don’t hurt yourself trying to.”

Alex looked at him, suddenly teary-eyed again. “I don’t want it to happen forever.”

“I’m not saying we can’t do things to make it better,” they replied kindly. “I’m sure there’s techniques that can make it easier to deal with, even if they don’t prevent it forever. Or maybe it’s time we looked at getting you some therapy or counselling. What do you think?”

“My parents would never let me get help like that,” Alex said, chuckling darkly.

For just a moment though, he let himself think about it. He let himself wonder what it would be like if he could see a professional and get the right kind of help. Maybe he would learn not only how to calm his sensory overload but also how to control his anxiety better in general. Maybe if he’d been getting the right kind of help before all this then he wouldn’t have had the exam stress anyway and he wouldn’t even be having this conversation. There were endless possibilities but he was sure he’d never see any of them come to light.

“If you don’t want to tell them about it then we could wait until you turn eighteen,” Willie suggested, squeezing Alex’s hand again. “That way you don’t need parental permission.”

“That’s not for another three months,” Alex said petulantly.

“So?”

“So what if it stops by then?”

Willie raised his eyebrows. “Do you think it will have?”

Alex couldn’t have given an honest answer. He said nothing, just pulled himself to Willie and hugged him tightly. He felt their arms instantly loop around his waist, their hands planting themselves firmly on his back. Alex buried his face into Willie’s shoulder, holding him as close as he possibly could, all of a sudden wanting to touch him as much as he could.

“You’re going to be okay, hotdog,” Willie said, pressing a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I promise.”

“I believe you.”

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright

47 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 3 years

Text

Set Me Dreaming / Bucky Barnes Imagine

Request: can you do a bucky fic where reader catches him awake in the middle of the night and fighting off some of his troubles? like maybe bucky resists any type of consolation until he finally succumbs. i am open to any of your ideas/own interpretation! thank you!! <3

Yes I can thank you!! Also Mr Barnes it’s been seven years and I am still looking respectfully 👀

If you like, please comment and reblog!

(The lyrics are Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller/ Frank Sinatra (we’re just going to pretend this version came out at the right time aha), and I got them from Google!)

You haven’t heard this song since that night in 1943. Since the night he proposed. Since the night he left. Since the night you lost your Bucky.

‘The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming.’

It takes you a moment to see in the darkness of the little New York Apartment you and Bucky had managed to scrounge up the money to pay for. It certainly needed some work, and sometimes you missed that smell of antiseptic and apple pie - that warmth familiarity of Bucky patching Steve up after a fight with one hand, and trying to copy his mom’s old recipes as a treat for when you got home from work in the other. This place only smelt of car fumes, and a certain stench of must and old pine that was just a sucker punch to the stomach every time you entered. Every time the two of you were reminded how stranded Steve had left you. Buck had tried to cook for you, once, a couple of weeks ago, but you had come home to find him sitting slouched, crying, on the kitchen tiles as he sobbed out how his mind couldn’t remember the measurements his mom had written down. But it didn’t matter, you think as you finally spot the sound of the noise. Wherever and whenever you had Buck, you were home. Even if everything needed work, it was worth it.

The record player swirls slowly from its spot on the kitchen counter, languid in its spinning as the familiar notes bounce around the confining walls and fill the place, and the city, with its warm jazz. At this time of night, there’s little to compete with the rippling trumpets, or the baritone voice - just the faraway sound of car horns and the jagged breathing of something coming from the fire escape. For a moment, you jump, forgetting yourself, forgetting you weren’t trapped in Hydra anymore. And then your heart starts to drop as you untangle yourself from the blankets, getting up from where you were holding your fiancée on the floor, to spot his sitting with his back to you. His eyes are gone. You don’t know how you can tell, solely just from the rise and fall of his naked back. You just know him too well, you suppose.

He’s gone from you, at the moment, eyes glazed with a faraway mist as he looks down at flashing, neon lights and dirt-tramped streets of the city he used to know like the back of his hand. But he’s not there either. No, his mind has wandered away with the song, memories allowing him some reverie by thinking back on that day. On you. A warm glow flashes through his eyes, a smile threatening to twitch at the corners of his lips as he pictures you, the love of his life, hand intertwined with his. He had sobbed against your lips that night, forehead pressed tightly against yours as he gazed at you with terrified eyes, drinking in every feature of your face as if he knew it would be the last time he would see it. If he was going to die, he wanted to make damn sure that the last thing that ever passed his mind was you. He could die happy then, knowing that he had been given one proper, good thing in his life, feeling safe in the memory that he had loved it well. That he would go knowing he would love you forever. You pretend not to feel him shake in your grasp as you dig your fingers into your shoulder, pulling him tighter against your chest and whispering sweet nothings into the dance hall, the thought of him leaving the next morning plaguing your every thought.

‘My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?’

He could barely get the words out that night, he had to mouth them against your lips and hope, his silly, foolish hope, that you would agree to marry a man who was being shipped of the next day. He just needed to go knowing that he was yours, thinking the last twenty five years you had spent joint at the hip would sway you towards the sentimental and you would agree to let him be yours, even if only for a day. It didn’t matter, he knew, as his lips trembled against your own, clenching his eyes shut to try and stop the tears spilling down as you nod your head vigorously. It didn’t matter how long you had in this life, he would be yours forever.

‘I love you, doll. I love you so much it hurts.’

‘Don’t you know I love you the same, Buck?’

He doesn’t feel you come up behind him, placing your hands on his back. Every muscle seems to be jumping out of his skin, skin flush and like a furnace to the touch, but you just wrap your arms around his waist and pull him against your back. Glancing round to see your Bucky’s face, his stubble tickles your cheek as you sigh. He’s still puffing out breath into the cold night’s air, eyes glossy and wet and by grief, filled with so much pain and love and fear that it breaks your heart.

‘I bring you and sing you a moonlight serenade.’

Then he remembers falling. Feeling weightless in the water, gazing up at the blanket of grey sky above him, at peace in the knowledge that you were here with him, your picture still tucked into his jacket and your face the only thing he saw when he looked up at the sky, at the stars. When he finally closed his eyes, and let himself drift away to you. Then he remembers the pain. The pain of remembering you while he was tied down to that chair, jaw clenched and lips threatening to spill his sobs as they punished him for remembering you, again and again and again and again, until the end, he buries you into a pocket of his mind he hopes Hydra can’t touch. He remembers the plea that used to fall from his lips as they hit him, the tremble in his fingers once he woke up and realised that he, that James, that the Winter Soldier was holding a gun against the head of someone he had never even seen before. Not in his lifetime. But he does what he’s meant to do, what he’s told to do, finger pulling the trigger as some thought twitches at the back of his mind, telling him to keep going. To always carry out his missions, saving the world, saving you.

He doesn’t feel your lips brush against his forehead as he begins to gasp now, almost fighting back against your touch. But you only reach out to steady him, grabbing his biceps as you swing yourself over the barrier to kneel down in front of him, fingers tight as he finally starts to settle himself again. You reach up slowly, careful not to startle him away from whatever pain is haunting him, and brush his hair away from his damp forehead. You don’t miss the way he subconsciously drops his head towards your touch, the almost inaudible sigh of relief that brushes against your nose.

He finally starts to remember himself, remember where he is, eyelashes fluttering open and closed quickly. He nearly bursts into tears right there and then when he spots you, wide eyed and obviously shivering from the cold in front of him.

‘Buck. Buck - James. It’s okay, we’re okay. You’re here with me, not back there. It’s alright.’

‘Sweetheart-’, he starts, squirming within himself as he scrambles closer to you. ‘A-are you real? You’re really here?’

‘Of course I am, Buck. I’m never leaving you. Never again.’

For a moment there’s a comfortable silence, a knowing moment of trust and understanding between the two of you, before you tug on his metal arm. He gives it to you willingly, the only person he’ll allow to touch the metal without feeling revolted with himself. You pull gently at his fingers, silently pleading for him to unfurl his fists. His breath shakes, knowing it was the same way you had brought him back to himself that day Helicarrier when he had been sent to kill you. The cruellest trick fate had ever played on him. He still cried about it in his dreams, eyes strained and throat hollow with screams as he strained against you, trying time and time again to stop his arms from hurting you. To stop himself from drowning just by the thought of you.

You- you were real. You were here, and then he found himself full on sobbing again. You shush him gently, jumping up to pull his hands away from his face, away from where he had shoved them into his eyes to try and stop himself. Yet he only grabs onto his shirt that you were wearing, fingers clenching and fists white as he pulls you down to straddle his thighs. He nestles his head into your neck, pulling you tight into his arms until he couldn’t be sure where he ended and where you began. As if there had really ever been a difference for him, anyway. You brush your hand through his hair, appreciating the little hum of delight he tried to give you as your fingers scrape the nape of his neck. He sniffles against your skin, but he’s alright. He knows that you would do anything for him. Your soulmate, your Bucky.

And Bucky knew, as he held you against him, that he would never let you go again. He knew that he couldn’t pretend he was alright anymore, that somehow and someway he would have to make amends for everything he has done - everything he has put you through. Yet some warm hope fizzled at the bottom of his heart as he felt your engagement ring bump against the goose bumps of his back, knowing he still owed you a wedding as well.

His hands are so soft, so gentle, so careful, as he grips onto your waist. His nose bumps against your forehead the same way it had that night, all those years ago, before you had lost him. His tears stain your shirt again, and although he knew he was different now, he also knew there was still some of James Buchanan Barnes left. He knew, because you had his heart, this whole time.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #the winter soldier #fatws #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #fatws imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan

304 notes · View notes

airesgay · 3 years

Text

Feelings 101

Chapter 15: the one that’s very festive

Relationship: Jennifer jareau/emily prentiss

Summary: the friends au where they all work at NYU, and Emily and JJ find themselves reconnecting after 17 years. There are also mixtapes.

Chapter summary: Neither Emily or JJ can deny it any longer, Christmas is coming. And today might also be a special day for another reason...

chapter word count: 5,618

songs:

Let it snow! - Frank Sinatra

What Christmas means to me - Stevie Wonder

Christmas time - the darkness

read it on ao3

Emily blinked her eyes open slowly, sensing the light behind them. The orange curtains over the window were closed, but unlike Emily’s blackout ones, didn’t entirely block out the light. This had granted a rather pleasant effect; sunlight fighting to pass through the fabric, and descending the room in a soft orange glow. There were still the distant sounds of the city waking up, but the space felt perfectly still, tucked away in its own hazy haven. Emily felt a smile tug at her lips. She felt heavenly. Which was odd; she never felt good in the mornings.

It was then that she realised how warm she felt – not overwhelmingly so, but just right, warmth that her body so often longed for. Then came the last of her slow realisations that morning – the source of the warmth.

Her head wasn’t rested on the soft material of what she’d thought to be a pillow, but over a slowly rising and falling chest. With blonde hair falling above her like a waterfall. Then she felt the strong arm wrapped around her waist. And she noticed her own hand rested on her chest. JJ’s chest. JJ’s warm body.

Her eyes widened, now fully awake and in a panic. Last night – or rather earlier that morning, came back to her all at once: the screaming, the fear, the pain, the blood, the crying. And then the gentle touches, the soothing reassurances, those blue eyes looking at her like nobody ever had. Like she wanted to take all that pain away.

Emily felt her cheeks redden as embarrassment took over. Nobody had ever seen her having one of her nightmares, or rather night terrors, bar her mother and a series of doctors. Of course the first time she had one around anyone else it would be when JJ was sleeping next to her. JJ, next to her. Currently with her arm wrapped tightly around her. She still couldn’t believe it.

For a brief moment she considered moving to the other side of the bed – where had Sergio ran off to anyway? – but JJ’s grip on her was too tight, her unconsciousness clearly unwilling to let go. Emily told herself she would have automatically wrapped herself around anyone, but she couldn’t deny the pure bliss she felt in that moment. Obviously not getting out of the situation, she let herself feel it, the unwavering comfort and safety that was being in JJ’s arms.

She rested her head back onto JJ’s chest, listening to the soothing breaths. She blinked again, slowly. She saw a heart shaped necklace hanging from the bedside lamp, twinkling in the light, casting patterns onto a butterfly jewelry box. And next to it was an alarm clock, displaying the day’s date: 18thDecember. Emily nearly laughed. The last thing she felt was a smile, before gently falling back asleep.

* * *

JJ was woken up by screaming. Which was apparently becoming a habit. At first she thought Emily was having another nightmare, so of course, she was seized by panic. But then she heard the noise again. It was too distant, coming through the wall, and now she realised, more like shouting rather than screaming.

“Snow! It’s snowing! Snow!” Penelope. The glee in her voice was undeniable now. JJ smiled.

She blinked her eyes open, widening them in her groggy half awake state. Then she realised her rather precarious position. She looked down to find Emily’s head nestled into the crook of her neck. Her heart completely melted. Emily’s face was even softer than it had looked the morning she’d first seen her on the couch – entirely free of any frowns, she swore she could even see a slight smile in her sleep. She hoped she was having good dreams; she deserved it. Really, JJ thought Emily deserved all the good things in the world.

Nearly having forgotten the reason for her being woken up, she stiffened as she heard the obvious sound of Penelope’s bedroom door slamming shut. She was out in the lounge, and JJ’s head snapped to the door, seeing it still cracked open. She found herself wishing Sergio had somehow closed it himself on his way out, though the thought was ridiculous. Panicking as she heard Penelope’s footsteps advancing, she yanked herself up. Which resulted in not only waking Emily but also propelling her off the bed.

“Fuck!”she exclaimed. Whatever good dream she’d been having she’d well and truly been torn out of it.

“Sorry!” JJ called over in a hushed voice. Which was silly, Penelope would have noticed by now that Emily wasn’t on the couch. And it was extremely unlikely that she would have woken before JJ, and – what? Gone for a walk? No, Penelope wouldn’t buy it.

Emily groaned as she rolled over, holding her head.

“Are you okay?” JJ was concerned now, crawling over to peer over the bed.

“Well that was a wake-up call,” Emily laughed. And JJ relaxed. It appeared she hadn’t concussed her.

Emily didn’t have any time to get herself up from the floor when Penelope came crashing into the room.

“JJ, it’s snow - ” The word caught in her throat, her feet freezing in the doorway. Her head snapped between JJ and Emily (clearly just having fallen onto the floor, still rubbing her head). A second later a grin rivaling the Cheshire cat’s broke out across her face.

“Well, what do we have here?”

“Pen,” JJ started, but she just lifted a hand.

“No need to explain.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ll leave you two to wake up properly.” She winked at JJ before twirling around and closing the door behind her.

Emily was clearly still disorientated from her fall, squinting up at the closed door. “Was that Penelope?”

JJ sighed and fell back against the headboard.

When they eventually collected themselves, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, they wandered out into the longue. To find Derek and Spencer by the window with Penelope, both still clad in their pyjamas. At least Derek was wearing a shirt this time. Thankfully their attention was held by the sight outside, and not Emily and JJ’s disheveled appearance as they both departed JJ’s room.

“Oh, snow,” Emily said, as if she’d only just deciphered what Penelope had been raving about.

A smile graced JJ’s features, and she padded forward, feet cold on the wooden floor. Derek and Spencer whirled around, only just noticing their presence. Derek spared them a beaming grin before turning back to the window. Spencer did the same, wearing his best look of kidlike wonder. His hair was even more of a mess than usual, clearly having just rolled out of bed.

JJ couldn’t help but also be lured in by the sight outside. They’d been granted a few flurries of snowflakes the past few weeks, but this was the real deal. Snow showered the street outside, covering cars and laying a blanket of perfect white over the pavements, footprints signifying the early risers who’d already braced the cold. The first real snow of the year was always beautiful.

“Wow.” JJ turned to see Emily standing beside her, eyes rapt on the sight. JJ smiled at the way her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

Then Penelope caught her eye, giving her the imploring look that JJ knew to mean one thing: you, me, talking, later.

For those precious few moments she let herself enjoy the snowfall.

* * *

Emily couldn’t deny it any longer. Christmas was well and truly here.

She’d managed to bury her head in the sand the past few weeks (really, New York thought it was Christmas as soon as thanksgiving dinner was off the table). She’d ignored all the decorations, the shop assistants wearing Santa hats and relentless Christmas music playing over the speakers, the tinsel and lights seeming to adorn every available surface. Because she had exams to distract herself with, she had a duty to her students, to be there for them during this stressful time. But that morning brought the last exams before winter break. There was no more hiding from the festivities – a fact that was made clear, in case she wasn’t already, when Penelope pulled a Santa hat over her head.

“What?!” Emily exclaimed at the unexpected accost.

Penelope appeared in front of her grinning from ear to ear.

“1.00pm,” she declared, holding up her watch for good measure, “Marks the end of exams and the official start of festivities!”

Emily rolled her eyes but unfortunately Penelope’s smile was infectious. She let her loop her arm with hers and lead her out of the building.

She’d been overseeing the last exam that morning. Usually professors were only required to stay for the first 10 minutes of an exam, enough time for students to look over the paper and ask any questions they might have had – about format or the way a question was worded, Emily had reiterated,notthe answers. Unfortunately one of the volunteer invigilators hadn’t turned up and Emily had offered to step in, seeing as she was already there. She had to hold herself back from giving Kayla a thumbs-up when she’d passed her and caught a look at her paper.

“You’ve worked your little socks off, Emily,” Penelope relayed as they walked out into the snow-covered campus, “You deserve this break. Hell your apartment burned down!”

Emily laughed. “Yes I hadn’t forgotten.” She pulled her red scarf out from her bag, wrapping it tightly around her neck.

“Well I’m here to personally escort you to Central Perk for a well earned coffee.”

Emily smirked. “How chivalrous.”

“How did Kayla get on?” Penelope asked. They’d caught sight of her briefly as the students streamed out the hall but her friends had quickly whisked her off. They couldn’t blame her; it was the end of a stressful time for her too.

Emily faked a gasp. “I couldn’t possibly say.” But a smile told her all she needed to know.

Penelope grinned as they walked down campus arm in arm.

* * *

On entering the coffeehouse they were greeted by the sight of Rossi waltzing around the room, arms spread and singing in what could only be described as a jolly manner.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” He sang along to the music as he whirled around, the Santa hat atop his head threatening to fall.

“I think someone’s had too much eggnog,” Emily whispered to Penelope.

She giggled as they hung their coats up and made their way to their designated couch.

“Happy first snow!” Rossi greeted them as they sat down.

“You too,” Emily replied, looking confused.

“Officially off duty then?” Tara asked from her seat across from them. Spencer sat next to her, nursing a hefty cup of hot chocolate. They’d previously been discussing the third year psychology paper that had taken place that morning, theorizing which of their students would excel.

Emily nodded and let out a sigh as she fell back into the couch. “It’s been a long week.”

“Seeing as you’re off duty,” Derek appeared from the counter and placed an eggnog in front of her. She took one whiff and screwed up her face. “I’ll stick to coffee thanks.”

Derek grinned. “More for me.”

There was a click as the bathroom door opened and JJ stepped out. Her eyes seem to catch Emily’s automatically. Just like the smile that Emily couldn’t help returning. She only just felt Penelope watching them from beside her.

“Kayla get on okay?” she asked, taking her seat beside Tara.

Emily almost laughed. They were all so predictable, but it was sweet. “Put it this way, I don’t think she’ll be taking summer school.”

“That’s our girl.” Derek leaned forward to give Emily a high five, which, after playing on his football team, she’d become used to begrudgingly accepting.

Jordan didn’t take long to come to take their orders, her own Santa hat perched atop her head. Emily ordered her usual black coffee while Penelope asked for something called a gingerbread latté. She didn’t ask.

“So have any festivities planned?” Rossi asked as he leaned his elbows on the counter.

“Oh yes.” Penelope’s eyes sparkled. “We just came here to get fuelled up. Oh! And the most important order of business.”

She rose from her seat and leaned over the counter, asking Jordan for a piece of paper and a bowl. She frowned but complied, ripping off a sheet from her notepad and handing over a small brown bowl. Penelope grinned.

“What’s this for?” Emily arched a brow.

Derek chuckled as Penelope shuffled back along, placing the bowl on the table and extracting a pink pen with a fluffy feather on the end from her jacket.

“Secret Santa,” Tara supplied.

“Oh.” Emily continued to frown as Penelope finished writing and tore six little slips off. “People do that? Past the age of 12?”

Penelope brandished her pen at her, the pink feather bopping at her in a surprisingly threatening manner. Penelope scowled. “You better hope I don’t get you Prentiss.”

Emily held her hands up. “Didn’t say a thing.”

Penelope ceremoniously dropped each slip into the bowl and shook it about a few times. Then, one by one, they were passed it and chose a slip, Penelope reminding them ‘no peeking!’

Emily was handed the bowl last and picked up the solitary slip that was left. She put on her best poker face as she read the name, but it was hard not to let her eyes fall on them; her eyes were always drawn to JJ.

* * *

JJ had held back a laugh when Rossi asked Penelope if they had any festivities planned. Of course she did. In fact she had a whole itinerary. Penelope always made the run up to Christmas fun, but JJ was particularly glad to have a jam-packed schedule today; maybe it meant Penelope wouldn’t find the time to interrogate her about Emily being in her bedroom that morning. But of course, she did.

She’d managed to avoid her that morning by throwing out excuses of meeting with students in crisis, getting ready in a flash and leaving to sit in her office unoccupied for hours on end. Emily had left in a similar haste, although she had the viable excuse of overseeing the final first year French exam.

JJ had been amusing herself with funny cat videos on YouTube when Penelope crashed into her office.

“Okay, I gave you three hours to get your story straight, out with it!”

She set herself down onto the couch usually reserved for students, giving her a pointed look.

“You can’t just barge in here,” JJ hissed, “I could have had a student.”

Penelope snorted, moving her bag next to her. “Sweetheart, don’t even try it, I checked your schedule, and you’re free all day.”

When JJ had no comeback, Penelope patted the space beside her with a seemingly sweet smile. JJ groaned before dragging her heels towards the couch. Penelope was all but frothing at the mouth in excitement.

“Nothing happened,” JJ insisted.

Penelope just looked at her with an expression that said ‘yeah sure.’

“I’m serious!” JJ reiterated.

Penelope folded her arms, eyebrows raised in contention. “Oh yeah, and how did she end up in your bed? And don’t try to tell me she slept on the floor, it’s obvious she’d just tumbled out of it.” She shook her head, tutting. “Not very good bedside manner, JJ.”

JJ leaned her head back, groaning. She was getting a headache. “Look, she couldn’t sleep on that couch okay? It was killing her neck, I was just trying to help.”

Penelope’s smirk faded at that. “She never said.”

“Of course she didn’t,” JJ laughed, “Emily wouldn’t say or do anything that might make her seem like a burden.”

“Well that’s just silly! I offered her my bed!”

JJ shrugged. “That’s just how she is.” She tried not to smile at that.

But the smirk on Penelope’s face didn’t take long to return. “Seems like she was just waiting for a better offer, huh?”

JJ rolled her eyes. “I just happened to be up, it was easier than waking you.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

God, JJ was glad she hadn’t seen Emily cuddled up in her arms. Penelope’s heart wouldn’t have survived it.

“So is this little arrangement continuing?”

JJ shrugged, hoping the way her heart was threatening to beat out her chest wasn’t too obvious. “I suppose so.”

“Hmmm.”

JJ swatted her on the arm. “Are you satisfied now?”

“I suppose, for now. Oh!” She suddenly turned and rummaged about in her bag. A second later JJ was handed a candy cane. “They were handing them out at reception.”

JJ accepted it with a smile, and despite her teasing, Penelope gave her a heartfelt one back. She also gave her hand a tight squeeze. There was no doubt about it; Penelope Garcia was definitely her favourite thing about Christmas.

* * *

They weren’t short of choice for Christmas markets - which was at the top of Penelope’s festive itinerary for the day. It was Spencer who had chosen the one at Union Square Park that they were currently wandering around, claiming they had the best churros. This was something Clooney clearly also agreed with, as he tried to snatch one out of his hands.

“I think you should’ve left him at home,” Emily said as she swerved, lifting her own out of his reach.

Derek was appalled by the suggestion. “And miss out on his first Christmas market?” He shook his head, kneeling down to Clooney’s level. Thankfully he’d long since finished his own Churros. It didn’t stop Clooney from licking the leftover sugar on his fingers.

“Hey, sugar is bad for dogs, remember?!” He berated. Clooney gave him his best puppy pout (though he was estimated to be somewhere between 3-5 years old). Still, it did the trick and Derek melted at the sight.

“Aw, come on it’s okay. How about we find you something to eat, huh?”

Clooney perked up at this, rubbing his fluffy face against his. He laughed and all but smushed his face into his. “That’s my babyboy.”

Penelope huffed above them, arms folded. JJ nudged her. “You’re still his babygirl,” she assured her, but she kept her head held high in indignation as she moved forward.

“Someone’s jealous,” JJ laughed, falling into step next to Emily.

She was still entranced by the kisses Derek was giving Clooney, nose scrunched up at the display. “She can have her fun when he catches something.” At least that was something she didn’t have to worry about with Sergio. He wasn’t huge on PDA.

Emily had forgotten just how busy New York got during Christmas. Union Square Park market seemed to be one of the most popular, with people everywhere you looked. She was surprised Penelope hadn’t made them all hold hands. Still, even as Emily dove forward to avoid getting knocked over by incoming kids running riot, she had to admit it was pleasant.

It was like they’d been transported to a European Village, with travellers from all over the world setting up stalls to share their goods with passersby. The little huts were squeezed next to each other, but still managed to maintain their own unique quality: one wafting delectable scents of cinnamon buns, another displaying intricate handmaid quilts, another selling handmade soap. Everythingwas handmade. Even during the day lights twinkled along the awnings of each hut, beckoning people towards them. Emily had to admit; it all accumulated a somewhat magical effect. Even the Christmas music, which sounded from speakers all over, wasn’t too grating.

Clooney soon got his wish when Derek led them to a stall selling gourmet looking hotdogs (though it was debatable who had done the leading). Derek was about to order him one when another dog barked form behind them. Correction – two other dogs. They all swiveled around to find Bonnie and Clyde bounding towards them, Matt and his wife Kristy holding on for dear life to their leads.

“Looks like we had the same idea!” Derek laughed, trying not to let Clooney’s lead get tangled as he jumped to greet his friends. He was well acquainted with the two golden retrievers, having quickly become a hit the few times he’d visited the youth centre.

“More like their idea,” Kristy breathed, trying to haul Bonnie back who was now rolling onto her belly.

Matt laughed as Clyde danced around them. “Well, you know what they say, four’s a party.”

Derek frowned at him, looking to the dogs to confirm that there were in fact three. Almost on cue, a very lively German Shepard came flying towards them, head-butting straight into Penelope. She stumbled at the unexpected assault, catching Derek’s arm.

Roxie barked gleefully, smiling up at her like head-butting was the perfect way to say hello. Penelope took a moment to steady herself before returning the greeting. “Well hello there pretty girl.”

“Roxie!” Luke came running after her, lead in hand. She just barked back at him.

“God guys, I’m sorry, she’s usually fine around crowds!” He kneeled down to attach her lead, which she didn’t look too pleased about.

Penelope seemed to stiffen at his arrival, flicking the hair out of her face in a reserved manner. “Not a problem,” she said, tone lacking her usual flare.

Emily narrowed her eyes and looked to JJ, who was beyond amused by the situation. Luke was giving Penelope an unreserved grin, clearly not hiding his own happiness at running into her. When she didn’t give back much in response, his face fell a little, but he swiftly turned to Derek.

“Well he seems to be getting on well,” he observed, watching as Clooney scarfed down his hotdog in no seconds flat.

Derek nodded, taking on a professional stance. “Yeah he’s settled in really quickly.”

Luke smiled. “Glad to hear it.” He turned to Emily. “And how’s our favourite feline?”

Emily gave a low chuckle. “He’s just perfect. Burned down my apartment.”

Luke’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping. “Uhh…” he frowned and made to gesture with his hands, but was at a loss of what to say.

Tara patted him on the back. “He’s just fine, don’t worry. So, catch any fleas yet?” She led him off down the path, their age-old banter picking back up in a flash.

The nine of them made their way around the rest of the market, dogs weaving in and out of their legs. It wasn’t long before Spencer reached his sugar rush high, barreling off facts about the snow levels in New York (apparently its greatest was in 1966, at 50 inches), which led to him being cut off. Emily wasn’t sure how a person could consume so much sugar. Sure, she liked that kick in the morning with her cereal, but there was a limit. In fact, Penelope had been badgering her to try one of the many festive drinks on offer, but she stuck to her black coffee. It was only when they passed by one particular stall, wafting the enticing smell of cinnamon that Penelope noticed Emily’s hesitation.

“Ha! You’re intrigued!” She pointed accusingly.

Emily rolled her eyes, but was swiftly dragged towards the stall.

“One maple cinnamon latté for the lady please,” Penelope announced, slapping money onto the wooden counter.

“Penelope, there’s no need - ”

“Well I’ve bought it now, are you going to be so rude as to not even try it?” She stared at her in that way that Emily was sure would make even the FBI’s most wanted crack.

“Fine,” she sighed, and lifted the cup to her lips. Oh.A warmth passed through her as the sugary sweetness seeped into her veins. She audibly moaned and Penelope smirked. Her work here was done.

“Hey, you’ve got a little - ” Emily didn’t have time to react before JJ was stepping forward and wiping cream from her upper lip. She smiled at her and the warmth pooling in Emily’s stomach increased ten-fold. She didn’t see Penelope grinning at them from behind.

* * *

“What size of shoe do you wear?”

Emily frowned. “Why do you need to know that?”

They’d been at the market for longer than she realised, and the evening was soon upon them, the sky fading to a deep blue.

“Oh, no reason.”

But she got her answer when they turned a corner and Emily was met with a familiar sight. The iconic Rockefeller Christmas tree shone like a pillar of Christmas cheer, an array of people skating along the ice-rink that surrounded it. Emily gave a sharp laugh and shook her head no. But Penelope just smiled at her in that way that said yes.

They’d previously arranged to meet Hotch and Haley at the market. Hotch looked about as happy as Emily to find they would be ice-skating instead. But it was either that or watch the dogs, and one uneasy look at a smiling Roxie made it clear that wasn’t an option. In the end, it was Matt and Kristy that offered to look after them, waving at them from the side of the rink.

Derek and JJ, of course, proved to be the best skaters, almost immediately challenging each other to a race, skating circles around the others. Tara was fairly proficient, able to weave around the swarms of people without much fuss. Spencer was a little clumsy, looking akin to bambi on ice, but he managed, Tara giving him a hand when needed. Penelope had no trouble, skating around with the same joyous expression as the little kids. That was until one kid went whizzing past her and sent her off balance. Luke was there in a flash, offering his hand, but Penelope just scowled, not appreciating the gesture.

At the lower end of the spectrum, sat Hotch and Emily. Hotch was being led around the rink by Haley, who was trying her best not to laugh as Hotch shuffled his feet along at a glacial pace. He was still wearing his suit from that morning which just made the sight even more ridiculous.

Emily told herself she was in no position to laugh, as she was currently clinging to the barrier at the side, unwilling to move. She thought the others were too caught up in their own fun when she heard the telltale skidding of skates behind her. She jumped, and nearly fell over, but the same person caught her.

“You really like that barrier huh?”

Emily smiled through the embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s great.” She gave it a pat for good measure.

JJ shook her head with a laugh and offered her glove-covered hand. A new song sounded over the speakers, distinctively rock, but still cheesy enough to be a Christmas song. Emily couldn’t help but feel like she was being asked to dance. Still, Emily didn’t think she could ever turn down JJ’s hand. As she took it in hers and felt JJ squeeze back in reassurance, she found herself wishing there wasn’t the barrier of wool. Still, she could feel the heat radiating through. Which had her pushing down thoughts of JJ’s arms wrapped around her, warm under soft covers.

“See, you’re a natural,” JJ’s voice brought her out of her daydream.

Emily laughed uneasily as she shuffled along the ice, JJ’s hand steadying her. “I don’t think I’ll be going for the Olympic team anytime soon.”

As they slowly but surely made their way around the rink, Emily couldn’t help thinking that it was all surreal: the mammoth Christmas tree and the hoards of families and friends all skating together in a jumbled sort of harmony. It was a scene that you saw in films, not experienced yourself. Still, the steady grip of JJ’s hand reminded her that it was real.

“You’ll be drafted before Hotch at least,” JJ said, pointing him out as Haley struggled to haul him forward.

Emily laughed, but it made her loose balance. Without thinking, she clung onto JJ’s arm. She made to apologise, but JJ just wrapped her other arm around her waist in response, steadying her further. Emily took a breath. “Okay, laughing bad idea.”

JJ smiled. “It’s just because you haven’t grown up skating.”

“I take it you did?”

JJ nodded as they continued to drift forward. “I played hockey a bit, but I mostly just liked to skate out on the lake by our house. It was kind of mandatory to know how.”

Emily cringed. “Well I clearly wouldn’t have fit in.”

“You could have been the cheerleader.”

Emily let out a full on belly laugh, which nearly had her toppling them both over. It was clear then that JJ wasn’t going to loosen her hold on her.

“Hotch said they’re travelling back down to San Francisco tomorrow,” JJ said, moving on the conversation.

Emily noted how that meant the couple had spent both thanksgiving and Christmas with Haley’s family and not Hotch’s. But she wasn’t about to pry. In fact, the whole topic made her feel uneasy.

“That’s nice,” she said instead.

She could feel JJ looking at her but she didn’t dare look back. Not only because she was terrified of falling on her face.

“I think most of the others are travelling back home next week,” JJ continued, voice slow and clearly leading to a question.

“Are you?” Emily asked.

There was a pause before JJ answered. “Yeah.”

An uncomfortable amount of time passed. JJ was about to ask her question when Emily beat her to it. “My flight for D.C is on the 23rd.”

“Oh.” JJ nearly stopped mid-skate in her surprise. “That’s great.”

It wasn’t great. It wasn’t anything because it wasn’t true. Emily wasn’t travelling home to see her family for Christmas. Hell, even if she wanted to see her mother, she had no clue if she’d be in D.C. And she didn’twant to see her. She really didn’t. But she couldn’t let JJ or any of the others – certainly not Penelope – know that poor little Emily had nowhere to go for Christmas. She knew by now that none of them would leave her alone. They’d probably fight over who was going to bring her home with them. She already knew that Derek brought Spencer home. But she couldn’t face that.

It hadn’t been much of an issue before, she’d just planned to stay at her apartment, and lie once the others were back, telling fake stories of what a nice time she’d had with her loving family. But then her apartment had burned down. If she’d had a key to JJ and Penelope’s she might have just stayed there. But she didn’t, and she wasn’t about to ask for one, it would be too coincidental, and they weren’t stupid - far from it. She guessed she’d just do what she would have done if JJ and Penelope hadn’t taken her in after the fire. She’d get a hotel.

Emily was torn from her spiraling thoughts when something went zooming past them, catching them both off guard and sending them toppling over. JJ clung onto Emily’s arm as she clung to hers, both hitting the ice with little grace. Emily grumbled. How many head injuries was she to endure today? Her cheek was freezing against the ice and she rolled her head up. To be met with a beaming smile from JJ.

“This is becoming a habit for us huh?”

Emily coughed out a laugh and JJ joined. People skated around them as they lay there on the ice, both laughing too hard to pull themselves up. When they finally stopped, JJ rolled off of Emily and offered her a hand to pull her up. They were standing upright on the ice again, but JJ was still looking at Emily with a look she couldn’t discern, like she was wondering whether to say something.

“What?” Emily asked.

JJ’s face softened. “Do you know what today is?”

Emily felt her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t have remembered? Could she?

“It’s Thursday,” Emily said, playing dumb.

JJ’s face fell and she instantly regretted it. She looked down to the ice, willing her heart to slow, before meeting her gaze again. “I… uh… I guess it’s also pretty close to when we met huh?”

JJ’s face lit up again, this time brighter than the 75 foot Christmas tree behind them. “It is. 18thof December.”

17 years to the day.

The butterflies in Emily’s stomach that she kept trying and failing to repress were in a frenzy. This didn’t feel real, but JJ’s eyes were so full of sincerity and maybe even something more.It made her feel like she’d fall all over again.

“Well… Happy anniversary, I guess.” It was meant to be a joke. But that didn’t stop her heart from racing as she said it.

JJ’s smile only grew. “Happy anniversary.”

* * *

That evening, when they were all getting ready for bed, Emily had gone to settle down on the couch. But the blanket and pillow she’d been using were nowhere to be seen. Automatically, she looked to JJ’s door, which was cracked open. Sergio was already making his way through. Emily fought back a smile before following suit.

Just like JJ’s invitation, neither made mention of the awkward position they inevitably found themselves in during the night. One would wake before the other, and either silently untangle themselves before slipping out the bed. Or more often than not, allow themselves to fall back into a blissful sleep, pulling the other closer. They both pretended this could last forever.

#jemily #Criminal Minds #emily prentiss #Jennifer Jareau #fanfiction #feelings 101 #mine

24 notes · View notes

merlevum · 6 years

Text

Hetalia Fanfiction - Shoulder To Sleep on Ch 2

Summary: Matthew Williams commutes to college every day. On his way home one day, a certain Prussian ends up falling asleep on his shoulder.

For outside links please click here. There will be links to AO3 and FF.net.

Previous | Next

Chapter 2:

Pacing back and forth in his small bedroom Matthew sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. It was Friday, the day he was supposed to meet up with Gilbert, but the hoser had yet to send a text message about a time. There were so many things Matthew wanted to say about the whole situation, but mostly he was just miffed at himself for actually getting his hopes up. It wasn’t like this was a date or something, it was just supposed to be a get together for Matthew to help Gilbert with his coding.

Checking his phone one last time, he tossed it on the bed, deciding to do something else for the rest of the afternoon. If Gilbert had forgotten, Matthew was not going to remind him. Leaving his room, Mathew went straight to the kitchen where Alfred sat on one of the bar stools, his upper body lying on the counter.

The two lived in a two bedroom apartment. Their neighbours varied from different parts of the world, including Francis from France and Arthur from England. The two were constantly fighting about something, but were some of the best people to go to for advice on life situations. On the other side of Matthew’s apartment lived Kiku, from Japan and Yao from China. Kiku normally played video games or read comics with Alfred, while Yao usually shared tea and sweets with Matthew and Arthur at times. The rest of the apartment was made up of other people from different parts of the world, which meant it was never a dull moment. Unless of course half the complex had mid-terms they either had to study for, or grade, in the case of Arthur who was a professor at the local community college.

“What’s wrong Al?” Matthew asked, heading towards the pantry to see if they had anything to make pancakes with. It was something he could eat all day, every day, and never grew tired of.

A grunt came from the general direction of Alfred before he shifted slightly. “Bored and hungry”

“Yeah? I’m making some pancakes and bacon”

“Great! Make me some too!” Alfred sat up straight and watched Matthew gather the materials to make pancakes. “Wait, you’re making bacon with it? You usually only cook bacon when you either apologise for something or you’re pissed off about something.”

“Still can’t cook for yourself?” Matthew glanced back at Alfred with a playful grin.

“I can cook better than Arthur that’s for sure,” Alfred said with a shrug of his shoulders before both snickered for a moment. “Although he bakes rather well. But hey! Don’t dodge the question. What’s going on?”

“So I’ve heard. He’ll have to—”

Matthew’s phone sung a song from Frank Sinatra as he stood mixing the batter for pancakes. Giving Alfred a pleading look, Alfred scooted off the bar stool to grab the phone. Matthew wondered who it could possibly be, when Five Minutes More stopped playing and Alfredo greeted the caller he was ready to pour the batter into the pan. It took another minute or two for Alfred to return.

“Sure, he’s just making pancakes. Hold on.” Alfred held the phone to Matthew’s ear as Matthew continued watch the pancakes, lest he burn them.

It was nice to live with someone who had essentially grown up with each other. There was no need to ask if they could hold up the phone while cooking, or to do something for them when they were busy. Alfred and Matthew had always been close cousins, from having close birthdays and celebrating them together, to visiting each other during the summer holidays. It was only natural for the two to end up going to college together; their parents were delighted since both would keep the other out of too much trouble. Matthew was taken on for the hockey team and given a full ride scholarship, while Alfred got in playing soccer mostly along with his excellent testing scores. Alfred had found the rather cheap apartment, but forgot to mention how far away it was from the college, but since the bus fare was free, neither complained too much.

“H-Hello?” Matthew asked, wondering why Alfred had not told the other who was on the phone.

“Ah! Matthew, you have no idea how hard it is to get a hold of your phone number. Do you? You need more friends who have it I swear. Listen, my phone was murdered yesterday by some crazy accident that involved me climbing a tree to save a bird. Why did you never text me? Wait, don’t answer that I got a different number anyway! First off can I come over to get some help with my homework? I know it’s kind of late, but I really could use the help.” It was hard to understand every word over the phone with Gilbert rushing and his rather thick accent.

“Wait, you were in an accident? Are you alright?” Matthew asked, Alfred looked a little concerned at the phone. He mouthed the words is he alright to Matthew who only shook the hand with the spatula to tell Alfred to wait a moment.

“Ja. I’ll tell you all about it if you let me come over. Bitte?”

Matthew sighed, but nodded his head, forgetting he was on the phone. Realising his mistake, he quickly cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s fine. Listen I’m making pancakes, so I’ll make enough for you as well. Alfred can tell you the directions to get here.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again Matthew!” Matthew could hear the relief and just picture a bright smile on Gilbert’s face.

Alfred put the phone against his ear and took a few steps away from Matthew as he focused on the pancakes. So the Prussian had not forgotten him after all. Now Matthew just felt plain silly for getting so worked up, but he was a little concerned if Gilbert was alright if he had been in an accident. The scent of slightly burning pancakes caught Matthew’s attention before too long and brought him out of his thoughts.

“You better hurry up with those pancakes. It won’t take him that long,” Alfred said, a rather teasing grin on his face.

“What do you mean by that eh?”

“I mean, he lives like two floors below us.”

“Eh?” Matthew turned to face Alfred who just laughed boisterously.

“You heard me. He lives two floors down from us. Never knew that.” Alfred shrugged and went to the door, expecting it to ring any moment.

Mouth slightly agape, Matthew tried to comprehend what he had just been told. Why had he not seen the other until just the other day? When did Gilbert move into the apartments? Who was his roommate? So many questions. Matthew flipped the pancake before it burned and placed it on a neat stack he had prepared. Pouring more batter into the pan, he decided to ask some of the more polite questions when Gilbert actually got there.

“By the way, Al?”

“Yeah, what’s up Mattie?” Alfred asked, leaning against the wall.

“Could you possibly stay in your room or just go out for a bit while he’s here? We’re supposed to do homework and knowing how you are, you’ll just distract him.” Matthew turned his back to Alfred, not wanting to see hurt reflected in his eyes, but was rather surprised by the answer.

“Sure thing! I can take the pancakes and eat them at Franny and Artie’s place. I’ll just rub it in that I have pancakes and bacon.”

“Thanks Al,” Matthew said, knowing Alfred understood Matthew wanted some time alone with their guest instead of being overshadowed like he normally was in Alfred’s presence when others were around.

As Matthew started to cook the bacon, putting pancakes on another plate just for Alfred, the doorbell rang. The door opened and Alfred greeted Gilbert, allowing the other to come in. Swallowing thickly, Matthew took a deep breath to relax.

Matthew felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jolt from the contact. Turning, Gilbert snickered at him before giving him a small hug. A blush crept its way on Matthew’s cheek. Alfred muffled his laughter in his hands.

“Hallo,” Gilbert said, releasing Matthew from the hug and stepping back. “West said to bring a gift, so I brought beer. You guys are old enough to drink right?”

Both shook their heads and Gilbert smack his forehead.

#fanfic: shoulder to sleep on #spazio writes #hetalia fanfic #prucan

2 notes · View notes