#this was a gift for said friend in exchange for a frappe

[bluestation]

dishes for autumn

[cotccotc]

genre/s: felix x barista!reader (gender neutral), fluff, angst, coworkers to lovers au, bakery / barista au (feat. baker / bff!minho, (strict) manager!chan, barista!jeongin, and baker!seungmin)

wc: 6.9k 😎

warnings: many mentions of food (specifically sweets such as cupcakes, brownies, cookies, etc.), some swearing, arguing, probably very poor editing oops <3

a/n: this is part of the @districtninewriters​​ “dear skz, with love” event :D THIS IS ALSO THE LONGEST FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN AHHH i’m really really proud of it !!! i hope u love it besties !!!!!!!!

it was a frostbitten february evening when you met the boy at the bakery.

you were seated upon the counter, back turned to the deep brown door through which you’d first entered months ago, eager to apply for a barista position. minho sat across from you on the cashier stool. he was always better with the baked goods. you were a great team. the two of you were bored; a familiar feeling that accompanied weeknights at the bakery-cafe. people tended to arrive either in the morning time or late in the afternoon, and very seldom later. plus, your manager trusted the two of you enough to lock up on your own. and so, the two of you would be left to your own devices for a few measly hours a night per week.

“i bet you couldn’t make a batch of sugar biscuits without instructions,” he teased with a snarky grin. he was right. that was more his thing than yours.

so, you retaliated. “i bet you can’t do the same with a mocha frappe. or even simpler: an iced americano.”

“please!”

“oh yeah? step right up, biscuit boy,” you retorted with a giggle, gesturing to the coffee maker that sat beside him. there were multiple in the shop, and truth be told, he had no idea which was used for what types of beverages.

confidently, he grabbed a cup from the stack on the table behind him, striding over to one of the machines. he then took a look at all the knobs and buttons, clearing his throat. you chuckled. with his finger ghosting over one of the buttons, he turned back toward you to check for your reaction. “not even close,” you remarked. he clicked his tongue, turning back toward the coffee maker. “just a hint,” you added, “the first step isn’t coffee.”

he simply looked up, bewildered. he turned back toward you, dropping his hands to his sides and parting his lips into a circular expression of disbelief.

suddenly, the sparkling tone of the door chime behind you caught both of your attention. peculiar. nobody was usually around at that hour. as minho put his cup back on the table, you hopped off the counter, turning toward the front of the store.

in walked one of the most strikingly handsome boys you think you’ve ever seen. if not the most handsome. an angular face; fair, slightly pink-tinted skin decorated with the most endearing assortment of freckles. they were almost reminiscent of the chocolate sprinkles minho used to top off the cupcakes situated inside the glass counter case. his hair was a vanilla blond and long enough to delicately cascade over the side edges of his face. cherry red lips that parted upon his arrival, chocolatey brown eyes staring right back at yours. he was astonishing.

“how can we help you?” minho asked him, stepping forward. he couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes seemed to be bugging out of your head. he had to stifle a chuckle or two.

the boy’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment. or maybe you dreamed it that way. regardless, he walked up to the counter, inquisitively placing his hands behind his back and bent over to glance at the contents of the case. “hi! uh…” he seemed sweet, though his voice was much deeper than you’d expected. it was unique. he was unique. and in quite a rush, as well. “...shit,” he cursed under his breath. he seemed to have startled himself with his expression. he looked back up at you, then at minho, a tight-lipped smile and strawberry-pink blush appearing on his face. “sorry,” he said.

minho finally let out a chuckle. “no worries. what’re you looking for?” he was always so good with the customers. smooth yet considerate, witty, yet firm. you always aspired to be a little more like minho when it came to customer service.

“do you have any of the salted caramel cupcakes left? they seem to be gone.”

“ah, we seem to have run out of those. could i interest you in a peanut butter cupcake instead?”

the boy shook his head. “no… she likes caramel.”

she. there was a she.

“may i ask what the occasion is?” minho asked.

“it’s my mom’s birthday, and she’ll be home from work soon... hopefully. i would’ve made my own gift to her but i didn’t have the time…”

“enough said,” your coworker assured him. “does she like chocolate? we have a few salted caramel brownies in the back.”

he almost gasped. “that’s perfect!” he paused. “um… how much is that? i-is it more than the cupcake, or…?”

minho glanced through the glass at the tag beside the brownie tray. “nope. less, actually.”

the boy let out a short sigh of relief. “great. thanks so much.”

“ah, it’s nothing. one sec,” minho said before walking into the kitchen to grab the brownie from the fridge. an awkward silence ensued between you and the boy.

“a name for the order?” you blurted. dumbass, you thought to yourself.

“i’m… the only one in the store…” he replied.

heat rose to your cheeks. “i… um… it’s protocol-”

“felix.” he cut you off before you could embarrass yourself further. he could tell you were nervous.

a unique name as well. of course.

“coming right up, felix,” you murmured, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. both of you chuckled.

minho came back out to the counter holding a small blue box with the cafe logo on top. “you’re all set! that’ll be…” he pressed few buttons into the cash register before continuing. “ten thousand won.”

“perfect.” felix grabbed his wallet out of his coat pocket. he pulled out a few bills from the black leather case, handing them to minho with a small smile. he was excited to surprise his mother, and happy that it wouldn’t cost as much as he’d thought it would. and you found it adorable.

minho took the money, ringing felix up and inserting the bills into the register. he handed felix the box, which made the boy’s face light up even more. it was hard for you to suppress a similar countenance. “i hope she likes it. have a good night!” minho said, closing the register. he crossed his arms and leaned on the counter as felix waved to the both of you and began walking back toward the door.

“thanks so much. you too,” he said, giving minho a small bow.

with his hand on the door, he glanced back at you once more. you smiled. he returned the expression. and just like that, with a brief gust of cold air sweeping through the shop, the boy was gone.

“you, uh… you know we only take names when there’s a line, right?” minho teased as the door shut, the chime letting out what seemed to be a pitied laugh. 

you held your hands up to your forehead. “ugh, i know! i’m such an idiot,” you replied, letting your nerves go with a chuckle. he patted you on the shoulder, laughing with you.

in between laughs, he remarked, “he really made you that nervous, huh?”

“you could tell?! oh, great… wonderful!” 

the two of you carried on for a moment, making light of the otherwise mortifying exchange. but finally, minho glanced at the clock and asked, “would you mind locking up tonight? i’ve got a date.”

“ooh!” you cooed, taunting him. “a date... who’s the not-so-lucky lady?”

“what joke book did you get that one from, hm? i had no idea you even knew how to read!” you gave him a playful punch in the arm for his sarcastic dig, causing him to giggle. yet, he answered your question, saying, “it’s a girl i met on the train home from school the other night. chaeyoung.” he looked off to the side, seemingly entranced. “she’s really witty and smart… and gorgeous. like... gorgeous.”

“ah, yes… so gorgeous that it causes men to leave their posts… and friends…”

“if i bring you back some takeout, will you quit being an ass?”

you pondered the question for a moment. and, while you’d be bored as hell in his absence, closing up the shop wasn’t much of a hassle on weeknights… and, well, you could always go for a free meal. “...pleasure doing business with you, lee minho.”

“thank you. as with you,” he commented in return. he took off the periwinkle blue, involuntarily worn apron which you’ve both been made to wear, revealing what you hadn’t even noticed was a dressy outfit. well, dressier than usual. he’d opted for a pale blue button-up shirt, tucked into black skinny jeans, all tied together by a chic black belt and a pair of black loafers. not to mention the small silver hoop earrings and matching necklace. you had to admit, he did look dapper.

he quickly strode to the back of the kitchen at which there resided a small storage room where you and the other employees usually dropped off your belongings. he grabbed his backpack and put on his long black coat, quickly making his way back up to the counter and walking around to the front of the store. “catch you tomorrow! thanks again.”

“takeout! don’t forget!”

“i couldn’t even if i tried,” he retorted, opening the door. the two of you waved to each other before he took his leave. 

moments later, the door opened once again. you figured minho must’ve forgotten something. looking up, you began to ask, “what’d you forget this ti-”

it wasn’t minho.

it was felix.

he paused in his footing, little blue box still in hand. you jumped just a little. he noticed. “s-sorry… i just, um…” he looked off to the side. “i guess this is a bit of a long shot... considering the two of you seem to be more than enough staff… but…” he paused again, taking a moment to straighten his posture and scratch the back of his head. “is there any chance you might be hiring… any time soon?”

the answer was no. undoubtedly. he was right in thinking that you, minho, and the other employees were perfectly capable of handling the cafe. though some mornings and weekends were a bit tight, the team made it work. if this was anybody else, you could’ve easily said no.

yet, he persisted. “i can bake! i like to think i’ve been getting better at it… and i can clean as well.”

you couldn’t turn him down. you simply couldn’t. not with those kind eyes locking themselves with yours, the enthusiasm in his deep voice, or the hastening beat of your heart. “i’ll talk to my manager!” you affirmed. you smiled, causing a similar reaction out of him. an idea popped into your mind. if only for a moment, you thought it was the best you’d ever had. your eyes averted themselves to the pale yellow note pad and ballpoint pen on the counter, used to take orders from seated customers. “here,” you said, reaching for the pen and paper and handing it to felix. “if you’ll give me your number, i can text you with any updates.”

he walked back up to the counter for the second time that night, taking his number down on the pad. as you watched him intently, eyes fixated on his concentrated face, you silently praised yourself for being so brave. especially after the whole name debacle. your heart was at its wits’ end. “there,” he said, placing the pen down on the counter and sliding the notepad back to you. “i really appreciate it.” he sounded so genuine. he flashed you another smile. he had such a grand, bright, toothy smile. it would stay in your memory for days, weeks, even months to come. you can still recall it now.

“it’s no problem,” you responded. “...i really hope your mom likes the brownie.”

“thanks. i’m sure she will.” he turned to walk toward the door. you almost turned away as well, excited to examine the style with which he’d written on the pad, until he spun back around once more. “oh! one more thing… can i get your name as well?”

the question came as a bit of a surprise. you nodded to him, letting out a short giggle. “y/n.”

he grinned again. it was smaller that time; a bit more subdued. effortfully so. “ah. well…” he began walking backward, eyes connected with yours as he headed toward the door. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, felix.”

and thus, your pursuit for a job offering began.

your manager, chan, was reluctant to accept your proposal for him to give felix an interview. however, you made note of how eager he’d seemed that night and the skills he’d mentioned having. you also mentioned how he’d been so enthused to find out the price of his order. and so, after a couple days’ worth of mulling it over, chan finally gave in.

you weren’t supposed to be at the cafe when felix was being interviewed. however, your saturday afternoon shift had just ended, and the place was essentially empty. well… apart from you, chan, felix, and then jeongin, who wandered in from the storage room to find you eavesdropping from behind the wall separating the kitchen and the dining area. 

“y/n?” he asked. “what are you-”

you inaudibly shushed him, motioning for him to come closer and hide with you. he did so.

“chan’s interviewing someone,” you whispered to the boy.

“ah…” he responded, his tone hushed. “so why are we hiding?”

“because we’re not supposed to be listening.”

“so why are we doing it?”

“because i want to know how it’s going.”

“so why can’t you just-”

you shushed him again. he obliged, covering his mouth with his hand.

from the other side of the wall, chan asked, “so felix, do you have a resume?”

“uh…” felix stammered. you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“let me put it this way,” chan offered instead. “do you have any prior working experience? at another cafe, another store, a completely different place...?”

“oh! yes. i’ve bagged groceries at the supermarket on third street for the last few months. that’s where my mom works. but i’d much rather work here, if i’m honest...”

“ah. okay.” chan nodded, jotting down some notes in his notebook. “so y/n told me you could clean...”

before chan could finish, felix proudly exclaimed, “i can! i do a lot of cleaning at home.”

“perfect.”

the interview went on for a few more minutes. jeongin let out a few silent chuckles every once in a while, mocking your state of concentration. but who could blame you? you just wanted to make sure felix got the position. he seemed to need it.

you totally weren’t in it for his smile… the freckles… the adorable creases that formed at the edges of his eyes when he grinned with that sweet, genuine, toothy grin of his… no, not at all…

nevertheless, he got the job.

“i love this apron,” felix had said to you on his first day. he was quite fond of your uniform. everyone else in the shop hated them; what, with the pale blue color, white pinstripe pattern, and the ‘one-size-fits-all’ design. yet, in every sense of the phrase, it fit felix perfectly.

“i’m glad someone does,” you replied. he laughed.

“when i got the cleaning job, i wasn’t sure i’d get to wear one. but i’m happy i do.” he smiled at you, his pearlescent teeth on full display and face aglow with joy. 

after about a week of training, felix became a natural at his job. though it wasn’t much, he took great pride in his work and enjoyed taking any opportunity he saw to do a little extra sweeping, some more dish washing, and even some dusting here and there.

he also fit right into the employee dynamic. every once in a while, you’d find him playing hand games with jeongin. or, sometimes, minho would discuss baking with him, as he often noted his affinity for it.

“have you ever tried using oats in your chocolate chip cookies?” felix asked. it was monday night. and, as per usual, the shop was devoid of customers.

minho looked puzzled. “oats?”

“yeah. it adds a little nuttiness. it’s really, really good.”

“huh… i’ll have to try it out sometime. i like to add a bit of coffee grounds to the flour when i make mine.” then, he leaned in to whisper, “don’t tell chan, though.” felix let out a nervous giggle.

“don’t worry,” you said to him. “minho’s only kidding. i’d never let him touch my coffee grounds.” this made all three of you laugh.

after the laughter died down, felix looked at the clock. it was four in the afternoon. “well, my shift is over,” he said. you were disappointed. hanging out with felix had become a bit of a highlight for you. he always carried himself so kindly. he had a bubbly soul, and a pure twinkle took residence in his eye whenever he smiled. you couldn’t help but feel light and airy while around him.

“hey, i’ve been meaning to ask,” minho started to felix. “do you bike here?”

the other boy was confused. “no. why?”

“oh… then, do you walk?”

“yeah. it’s only a few blocks,” felix responded, shrugging.

“do you need a ride?”

felix paused to think. “don’t you need to stay here? to lock up and everything…”

“i’ll come right back.”

you chimed in, suggesting, “i can close tonight.”

“you sure?” minho asked you. “i don’t have any food to bribe you with this time.” you both chuckled.

“it’s fine by me,” you said.

minho thanked you, stating once again that he owed you. the amount of times you’d done this for him was countless. but you never seemed to mind. and so, off they went. you were glad felix had integrated into the friend group so well. you supposed that he was just that loveable.

when it finally came time for you to close up shop having not received any other customers for the night, you waltzed into the storage room to grab your things. however, you noticed something strange sitting atop one of the shelves that hadn’t been there that morning.

an envelope. with your name on it. and a tupperware container filled with a single slice of what looked like chocolate cake.

your heart flinched. you were shocked. flustered, flushed. confused… but endeared. you hesitated. shakily, you tore open the cream-colored envelope’s seal, careful not to rip too much. you wanted to preserve its crisp smoothness.

“y/n,” the note said...

“a gift to you,

a chocolatey treat,

a token of thanks

for being so sweet.

~ me”

your heart fluttered. you ran to the kitchen, opening the container and grabbing a freshly-cleaned fork from the metal sink. you dried it off on your apron before excitedly digging into the dessert. it was more of a brownie than a cake, you realized, with melted chocolate chunks stuffed inside. it tasted amazing.

you began wondering who this mystery gifter could’ve been. it couldn’t have been minho… it simply couldn’t have. the two of you were much too close. and he was always more confident than anybody you’d met. if he liked you, you would have already known. besides, things seemed to be going well with him and chaeyoung. no… this had to be someone else. jeongin, perhaps. he did always made such high praises about your cappuccino-crafting abilities. you looked to your left and right, peering around the kitchen for signs of life. but alas, you were all alone in the cafe. 

then it hit you.

of course...

felix.

you recalled the first time you met. when you had him jot his number down on the piece of paper. you remembered his handwriting; the way some characters curled on the ends, the rounded shape of his letter e, the squiggly line he used before he signed his name… it was felix. it had to be.

and you were ecstatic.

the next day, you entered the shop to find a full house. it was a saturday morning, after all. you enjoyed the breakfast rush, mainly because you got the chance to show off your coffee-making skills. you made your way to the kitchen, greeting jeongin at the counter on your way in. you said hello to minho and seungmin as well, who were busy stand-mixing and hand-folding various types of batter. they were a great team, especially on mornings like those. though they tended to bicker about ingredients and proportions, the sweet treats they’d concoct always turned out excellently.

finally, felix emerged from the storage area, duster in hand. when he saw you, however, he froze. with his eyes wide and cheeks beginning to flush, he greeted you. “h-hi, y/n… good morning!”

you let out a bit of a giggle. does he know that i know? you asked yourself. granted, the mysterious gift giver signed off as ‘me,’ so you couldn’t say you were positive… but this reaction told you otherwise. “morning!”

he nodded, smiling nervously. he gestured to the storage room. “the shelves in there are all dusted now.”

“great! i think i’ll… um…” you pointed to the room, slipping past him to stash away your belongings and put on your apron.

“yep! you… do that…” he muttered as you walked away.

however, when you walked in, you found something peculiar displayed upon the shelf.

another envelope. and another container.

you turned back toward the door to find felix peeking in. you chuckled. “so it was you!”

he stepped to the side, coming into full view. “how’d you know?” he asked.

“i just… had a feeling.” you grinned.

he paused, a tight-lipped smile spread across his face. “well, open it.”

you placed your coat and bag on one of the shelves below. you then opened up the envelope just like you had the previous night: meticulously, yet enthralled. it read,

“another dessert

for a person so sweet

will you honor me kindly,

and go out with me?

YES / NO

~ me”

once you looked back up at him, felix commented, “you were supposed to circle one…” he then began rambling. “i thought you didn’t come in until later. you don’t have to say anything right now, or at all, and-”

though you thought it adorable, you cut off his nervous prattle, stating, “yes.”

his eyes grew even wider, his strawberry tinted lips forming a circular shape. “you mean…”

“i’ll go out with you, felix,” you confirmed.

his face lit up. and yours did, too.

thus, one date became two, two became four…

by the end of february, you were officially a couple.

you were a perfect match. each of you complimented each other so well, rivaling the bittersweetness of a good cappuccino when paired with a light and fluffy slice of cake. like minho, felix’s baking abilities and knowledge never ceased to amaze you. you explained the ins and outs of coffee brewing while he told you all about how he bakes his tasty treats. he even showed you some of the recipes his mom handed down to him from generations past.

his mom sounded so wonderful… yet, a part of you felt so sorry for her. felix’s dad left when he was young, and she’s always had to fend for herself and her son all on her own. however, when she was let go from her office position the previous year, things began to spiral. she took up two jobs: one at the local grocery store and another waitressing at a restaurant in the next town. she was always so busy. but felix understood. he tried helping out, especially by working at the supermarket with her that fall. nothing seemed to get any better. 

that is, until he landed his job at the cafe.

felix constantly thanked you for helping him out. chan paid him a considerable amount more than what he’d received at the supermarket, which helped him and his mother out greatly. anything would. aside from telling how lovely, smart, witty, and gorgeous you were, felix’s mission in life was to remind you how you’d saved it.

one monday, you entered the storage room on your break to find a sight all too familiar. a handwritten note and small sliver of baked loveliness, all wrapped up in a metaphorical bow of allure and intrigue. nevertheless, however, you were still just as giddy as the first time you’d received one of felix’s treats. suddenly, you felt a finger graze along your shoulder, moving your hair to the side as an arm wrapped itself around your waist. two warm, pillowy lips made contact with your cheek, gently pecking the skin. felix.

you let out a giggle. “is this for me?” you asked, facetiously.

“of course,” he muttered beside your ear, his tone low, entrancing, and chill-inducing. he kissed your cheek again, holding you close and swaying you from side to side. “it’s another brownie. try it,” he suggested as his chin settled upon your shoulder.

you did as he said, biting into the small slice of fudgy goodness. to your surprise, chunks of melted caramel oozed out of the dessert, cutting through the rich chocolatiness of the brownie with a tangy edge. you hummed in satisfaction. “a salted caramel brownie,” you noted, swallowing your bite.

he chuckled. “i figured i’d finally try it out, maybe give some to my mom… do you like it?”

you placed the sweet back into its container and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you smiled. “i love it, lix. thank you.”

he grinned back at you. pulling you closer by the waist, he sealed the space between his lips and yours with a kiss. his lips were always even softer and more captivating than the texture of his confections. sweeter, too.

after his lips left yours, he gazed into your eyes, holding you close. “open the note, love.”

you excitedly spun back around, doing as instructed. opening the crisp white envelope seal and pulling out the folded sheet of paper, you read its contents.

“a caramel kiss

for you, my love.

i can’t give you the world.

but i hope i’m enough.

~ felix”

you paused. you were puzzled. visibly so, you figured, since when you turned around the look on felix’s face shifted.

he took your hand in his, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. he kept his head down as he spoke. “i wish i could do more. i wish i could take you out to nice places, bake you batches of your favorite sweets, get you real gifts…”

a sharp pain struck your heart. “lix…” you murmured. “i don’t need any of those things. and as far as i’m concerned, these are ‘real gifts.’ they come from your heart. that’s as real as it gets.”

“i know, love, but…”

you placed a hand on his cheek, guiding him to look back up at you. “you don’t even have to do this stuff for me. i know that you care.”

he gave you a forced, shy smile. “okay. i’m glad.” he placed his own hand on top of yours, warm fingertips pressing gently against your skin.

“felix! y/n!” chan called from the kitchen. it was saturday night, and the last of the day’s customers were taking their leave. you were standing by the coffee-makers, in the middle of telling felix about the time you’d bested jeongin in a macchiato-making contest during a breakfast rush. 

both of you turned toward the kitchen door, concerned. chan poked his head out. “can you come here a minute?” he looked serious. something was wrong.

nevertheless, the two of you obliged. holding hands, you made your way to the kitchen, led by chan to the cooling racks. “what’s up?” you asked.

chan cleared his throat before shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have reason to believe that one of you, or both, has violated protocol.”

you quickly grew confused. felix’s hand tightened around yours. you glanced at him, noticing how his face flushed pale. “uh…” he stammered. 

“early this morning, seungmin pointed out that we’re low on cocoa powder. now, that’s odd, especially considering we had three cans of it yesterday. now we only have two.” you both nodded at him, following along. “...so i took a look at the camera footage.”

felix let go of your hand. “c-cameras?” he stuttered. you were even more confused.

“yeah. the cameras,” chan confirmed, looking felix dead in the eye. “i watched the footage from yesterday. and the day before.”

felix gulped. “you… you did….”

“what the hell is going on?” you asked.

chan let out a bit of a sigh. “y/n. were you aware that felix has been taking ingredients from the kitchen?”

your heart dropped.

you glanced at your boyfriend. he glanced back at you. he then bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes down to the floor. you looked back at chan, calmly answering, “no… i had no idea.”

“is that true?” chan asked.

“yes.” you then turned to felix, face ablaze. “it’s true.”

“then in that case, you can go for the night. i’d like to talk to felix. alone.”

after one last unreciprocated look at your boyfriend, you quickly rummaged through the storage room, collected your things, and left. you stood outside of the cafe, waiting for whatever might happen next. your stomach was doing flips. you couldn’t possibly believe what you’d heard.

minutes elapsed. it felt more like hours. all you could think to do was lean up against a lamp post and watch the gloomy clouds shift overhead. the sun was close to being fully set, casting a deep purple tint over the whole street landscape. and it looked as though it was about to rain.

after what felt like an exorbitantly long time, felix emerged from the shop. the door closed behind him as he bolted down the steps and onto the pavement, that familiar chime sending a chill through you. it sounded almost eerie that night. out of place. taunting.

“lix,” you called. you walked behind him, despite his quickening pace. but he wouldn’t stop or slow down. “lix,” you exclaimed again. no answer. finally, you grabbed his arm, realizing his apron was gone, and shouted, “felix! slow down.”

he scoffed, stopping dead in his tracks. “he fired me.”

you stared at him, blankly. once again, you couldn’t believe it.

“i tried to do something nice, and he fired me.”

“do you think it makes me feel any better?” you asked. “you getting yourself fired so you could make me little brownie experiments?” you paused, taking a deep breath. you were outraged. more so with yourself. you should’ve asked how he was finding the time or the resources to be doing what he was doing. you should’ve known. “i thought you needed this job. when were you gonna tell me you were a thief?”

“a thief?!” felix’s eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head. he was surprised at your verbiage. he’d never seen you upset like this. “y/n, i’m not a thief.” you rolled your eyes. his cheeks flushed crimson. a prickling sensation began around his eyes. a stinging, almost. tears. he looked down at his sneakers. tattered white converse. the same ones he wore every day to work. the same ones on which he’d splattered a few droplets of brownie batter during his latest attempt at making you a gift. now, it just looked like a stain of mud. “i didn’t just take cocoa powder. i took eggs… some milk… a couple cups of flour here and there… my mom got demoted at the restaurant. she works the bar now. she thinks i asked for the stuff. so yeah, i did need this job! i do need it. i just fucked up...” under his breath, trying not to give into the tears that prodded at his eyes, he remarked, “‘little brownie experiments’... that’s all they ever were to you? little brownie experiments...”

you realized what you’d said. of course that’s not all they were to you. they were everything to you. but that isn’t what you’d said. “lix… i-”

“you know what, you’re right,” he muttered, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes rapidly blinking to avoid the inevitable. “they probably weren’t even all that good.”

you took a step closer to him. a drop of water fell onto your shoulder from above. “no.. no, that’s not what i-”

but, as quickly as you approached him, he stepped back. he locked eyes with you once again. his eyes were glossy; tainted with the aftereffects of a broken heart. suddenly, a steady stream of drizzling rain began to fall from the night sky above you. felix’s lip quivered. yet, with a furrowing brow, he continued. “you know what, maybe this was all a mistake.” his voice cracked a bit; frayed at the edges. “maybe i should’ve gotten a different job. at a place that would pay me enough to be able to buy my own shit and pay my mom’s bills.” the rain fell harder now, coating his hair and dragging it down over his face. you didn’t even feel it as it completely drenched you as well.

seeing him like this affected you just as much as your words did him. guilt. the panging, crushing weight of guilt laid heavily upon your heart. “felix…” you whimpered, tears of your own beginning to cloud your line of sight. though, you could still see clear enough to watch him shake his head, turning around and beginning his ascent up the avenue. clear as ever. even despite the pitter-patter of evening gloom.

sopping wet, you marched back into the shop. you ripped off your apron, throwing it down upon the counter. you then walked back behind it to start preparing to close up for the night. all you wanted was to go home.

that is, until you spotted an envelope tucked beside the cappuccino maker.

a creamy white envelope, with your name and a heart inscribed on the back. and a tupperware container. a single teardrop descended from the corner of your eye, resembling the droplets of rain that covered your form. you carefully took hold of the envelope. you gently tore it open, making sure not to rip it, just like you’d done the very first and subsequent times.

“another present

for my love;

my dear y/n,

sent from above.

~ felix”

a drop of rain fell from your hair onto the page, dampening his name. the black ink began to run, the letters seeping into each other.

you could no longer control your tears. you took a seat on the floor, back resting against a leg of the table upon which the coffee makers stood. the metal was cold. but you paid it no mind. with your head on your knees, legs bent and arms wrapped around them, you cried. audibly. you couldn’t believe how you’d spoken to him. you should’ve known that he didn’t have the money to bake you these little presents on his own. you should’ve realized from the moment he confirmed it was him. at least, that’s what you thought to yourself as the tears expelled themselves from your system. 

he just wanted to make you something special. yes, he broke the rules. yes, he stole from the cafe. and yes, he knew it was wrong. but he just wanted to make you something special. it was the only way he believed he could. and you wish you’d seen that. not just so you could’ve prevented it, but also so you could’ve appreciated it even more. so you could’ve seen that not only was he working overtime to make you something you might enjoy, but that he was risking his job for you and his mother. it wasn’t a perfect gesture - not by a long shot. but he meant well. he always did. and you didn’t even give him the chance to explain.

you loved him.

after a few moments of solitude, you regained your breath. you sniffled, looking down at the note. you then stood back up, taking hold of the container. its contents looked delicious. but you couldn’t consume it. not even if you’d been hungry. so, you dumped it into the trashcan beside the table. and, with a deep, shaky breath, you ripped up the letter and envelope into tiny pieces. it was a bittersweet feeling, letting go. but you had to do it. and so, home you went.

a week passed. things never really changed at the cafe once felix left. weeknights were still as slow as ever. maybe even slower. you missed him.

minho emerged from the kitchen one evening to find you wiping down the cappuccino maker with a coffee-stained rag. it was the third time you’d done it that day. twice more than you were getting paid for. and of course he noticed. “how’re you holding up?” he asked.

you barely glanced up at him, busy rubbing the same spot on the metal machine over and over. this stupid stain just wouldn’t budge. each time you’d gone over it that day, you couldn’t seem to make it go away. it plagued your mind, infiltrating your subconscious when you least expected it until you finally decided to go back to it for the second time, then the third. it was a real mood killer. though your mood hadn’t been very lively when the day began, either. “‘m fine,” you replied through gritted teeth, brows angled inward as your focus remained on the task at hand.

“are you?” he questioned, playfully. he leaned on the counter behind you, crossing his arms and watching you scrub. “you’ve been going at it with that thing for hours now. what’d it ever do to y-”

“i’m fine!” you interjected. you then paused, both in speech and action. suddenly, you were aware of how fast you’d been rubbing the machine. as well as how loud your voice had raised itself. you turned around. “...sorry.”

he gave a pitied smile, crossing his arms. “it’s ok. i’m fine,” he replied, mimicking you. it made you chuckle. he was glad it did. “is, uh… is this a bad time to ask you to lock up? i’ve got a.. uh…”

“a date?” you supposed, unfeeling.

he cleared his throat, glancing between you, the clock above you, and his shoes. “yeah,” he confirmed. “with chaeyoung. would you mind?”

“not at all.”

“you sure?” you nodded. “alright… i owe you one… or ten...” he joked, untying his apron.

“no you don’t,” you murmured, eyes drifting to the side. you almost turned back around, heart set on getting to that stain, until you felt his hand on your arm. you glanced at each other for a moment. he looked sad. sorry. he pitied you. and you hated it. yet, as he took you in his arms, wrapping you into a tight, benevolent hug, you became a little less tense. a little less angry. you hugged him back, burying your face into his shoulder. this was the first time you’d ever engaged in such a gesture with your coworker. sure, you were friends. and sure, you’d talked about some deep stuff on nights like these with nothing better to do. but this was different. meaningful. sweet.

after a moment, minho remarked, “you know i miss him too, right?” he sounded mockingly peeved. “he was your boyfriend but he was my friend.”

you looked up at him, confused. “you’re not still friends?”

he chuckled. “no! he’s avoiding me the same way he’s avoiding you.”

laughing with him, you responded, “shit… i’m sorry, minho.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.” he let go of you, hands remaining on your sides for a moment. “you both messed up. it’s not all your fault.” you nodded to him, a reluctant, close-lipped smile upon your face. he glanced up at the clock again before pulling his apron off. “i’ve gotta go. thanks again for locking up, y/n.” he walked past the counter to the front of the store. “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he added, pointing at you while striding backwards toward the door.

“see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving to him. “have fun.” you still sounded a bit bitter. you couldn’t help it.

“thanks,” he said. the chimes twinkled as the door closed. it haunted you.

and with that, he was gone. nothing but you, your rag, and that unnerving coffee stain for another half-hour’s time.

you heard the opening and closing of the door behind you once again. with a sigh, not even bothering to turn around, you blurted, “we’re about to lock up for the night.”

no response. odd. maybe they didn’t hear you. you tried again, raising your voice a bit but continuing your attempts to clear up the stain all the while. “i apologize, but we’re closed for the night-”

“one salted caramel brownie, please.”

a familiar voice. a familiar, low-toned, nostalgia-inducing voice. the voice that, at one time, softened for you… close enough to your ear to make your stomach tie itself in knots. the voice that made you giggle, the voice that called you “love”... the voice that cracked when faced with the realization that it was never to be heard by you again. you spun around.

a familiar face, too.

felix.

his eyes gazed into yours. somber, silent.

“y-you...”

“hey.”

tags: @magglesx, @crscendoforsung, @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @skzctnightnight, @serenityswords-main​, @childofthecosmos, @changbinniee​, @kpopscape​, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @ncityluvvs, @vera-liscious (send a 🍓 in my ask box to be added for skz !)

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[soysaucevictim]

“I started thinking about human nature...”

Summary: Janus thinks Remus started off on entirely the wrong right foot with him. This is how they became best friends since. (Sanders Sides, Gym Rat AU. One-shot. Ao3 link.)

Genres: Slice of Life, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Tragicomedy, Comedy-Drama, I Don’t Know Man

Characters: Janus and Remus centric. Roman supporting.

Relationships: Dukeceit (platonic), Creativitwins (familial), Pre-Roceit (ambiguous)

Warnings: Injuries/blood, Creativitwin angst, implicit queerphobia, implicit ableism, physical abuse, disownment, chronic illness (psoriasis), Enemies to Best Friends, Remus Being Remus, Remus Is a Little Shit, Trans Masc / Nonbinary Remus, Janus Is A Good Friend, Remus Is A Good Friend, 2e Remus (Twice Exceptional), Protective Roman, Roman Is A Good Brother, Roman Isn’t Having a Good Time, Tonal Whiplash (Seriously)

-

Janus knew Remus since they were in high school. On age difference, they easily might’ve just missed each other – 4 years. But Remus did jump a grade in elementary school, demonstrating a precocious knack for SOME arenas of academics.

He was clearly gifted, especially when it came to things of mechanical nature. But he was also just as clearly troubled. It was a crying shame that most people paid more attention to the latter part. Truly.

So they met, when Janus was a junior and Remus a freshman.

Janus was also partway into the school’s 3+3 DPT program, to speed the process up for him to get to be a physical therapist in a few years out of high school. He had his reasons for that, reasons he’d much rather disclose to very few people.

Other than the market demand, to be sure. It wasn’t because he cared about people, and he’d be obstinate about making that point clear.

-

Remus wasted no time to leave an impression on the student body, in the first month of the school year. Though, at the time, no one knew it was him.

Janus was minding his own business in chemistry class when the school’s sprinkler systems went off. But something was… wrong.

It – it smelled like AXE body spray. Janus thought it was mostly water that went through the pipes, but it was unmistakable and overwhelming. He was caught by surprise like everyone else was, but still attempted to play it cool as he shoved his belongings into the desk to try to salvage them from the deluge.

Mr. Sanders yelped, just as confused as everyone else in the room, “What in the name of-!? I-I guess it’s fire drill time. Let’s go, class. Quickly and calmly.”

-

It turned out the entire first floor of the building was set off and only that floor (this campus had two of them).

The entire floor, positively reeked of the stuff for days. No one was was able to figure out what miscreant was responsible for this. Janus would absolutely leisure in the chaos of the student body and staff smelling like they vaped canisters of body spray. But, you see, Janus’s skin took objection to the whole experience, rather quickly.

At the tail end of middle school, Janus developed a few rashes, probably from stress or perhaps as a result of a strep infection. Which he quickly learned from his family doctor to be psoriasis, which was just fantastic. So, the chemical assault aggravated the already flaring up patches on his face and hands. He could give less of a shit about what other students would say about his appearance, but holy hell did it ITCH.

He was determined to figure out who the hell was responsible, to give him a piece of his mind.

-

Things appeared to go without incident for sometime, nearly a month. Not without Janus warily scanning the classrooms and occasionally the rest of the campus for anyone that just set off any alarm bells.

He finally met eyes with him in the cafeteria. Well, he still didn’t know that at the time.

Just this kid who dressed like a hot mess and rather ambiguously gendered lounging in the corner picking their nose and looking like they were about to doze off. It was as if someone threw a punk, an emo, and a dragster in a blender. Hit frappe, topping it all off with toxic green and black coat of paint. They really stood out, yet no one dared to approached them.

Janus did read some big “FUCK OFF” energy from him. Still, he was curious, “Hey.”

This kid’s attention snapped up pretty quick, with an excessive amount of drama to it, “And who might yooou be?”

Janus decided to withhold his name, just in case, “Dee. You?”

The kid shrugged, boldly going the flirtatious route, “Whatever you want me to be.”

“… I’m not interested in that… right now. You new around here?”

“Maaaybe.”

Janus was sure it was a shot in the dark, but he was getting increasingly agitated with his face, “Were you here during the AXE incident recently?”

The kid perked up suspiciously, “Maybe I was. Maaaybe I wasn’t.”

Janus lightly rubbed the patch on his cheek before pinching his nose in exasperation, “Can you not with this evasive bullshit?”

“Oooh... feisty.”

Perhaps his patience was on the thin side, but Janus felt a building urge to slap this fool. He sighed, “Well. Let’s just say – urg-”

The itching was unbearable at this point and he started to furiously rub his offending hand through his gloves. The kid looked almost concerned, “Uh. You okay?”

Janus lied through his teeth, “I’m fine. But whoever was responsible for that body spray shit certainly won’t be…”

The kid started to crack. Torn between seeming to find pleasure in making Janus squirm and a glint of actual concern. This only made Janus more mad, if he was perfectly honest. Janus just snipped out, “I don’t know what your angle is here, but I will figure it out.”

The kid seemed insulted, placing a hand on their chest, “I have no idea what the fuck your problem is, man. You came to me with the 20 Questions!… heh.”

Janus groaned, unsure of where he should take this, his gut telling him he was looking at the perpetrator of his current bout of absolute suffering. He could only muster turning on his heels and give the kid the “I’m watching you” signal.

The kid just cackled uproariously as they parted ways.

-

Yeah, Janus was certain that kid was responsible. He just knew it.

The two of them shared a pre-calculus class and the kid was just… snoring at their desk, by the time it was almost up. Ms. Crofters didn’t appreciate the insubordination, “SANCHEZ.”

Everyone was already starting to file out of the room, since the bell rang. Morning classes were rough for everyone, but this kid looked exhausted, actually. No, Janus was determined not to pity them. Janus simply watched the exchange play out.

“Sanchez” smacked their lips blearily responding with, a simple “… what?”

The teacher sighed and softened, “You really need to take this more seriously, I know you have so much potential, to be a freshman placed in this class. You just need to-”

They grumbled and rolled their eyes, “Whatever.”

The teacher remained seated, decided she was going nowhere and started to grade some papers in the break in between classes. Sanchez took the cue to stand up with their things and leave. Not before Janus was noticed for staring at the whole situation. Sanchez was surprisingly icy, “You got a problem with me, too?”

“Plead the fifth.”

Janus was now intrigued, sensing they might be a lot sharper than they seemed. Hints at them being more capable of pulling off tampering with the sprinkler system in such a noxious fashion.

-

Janus confronted them in the hallway, fiddling through their locker, “Don’t lie to me, Sanchez.”

Sanchez rolled their eyes, still playing coy, “Whatever do you mean, Dee?”

“I KNOW you fucking did it.”

“Did what?”

“I don’t know, not the surprise assault on the senses, weeks into the year!?”

“… your rash is looking pretty angry.”

“NAH. YOU THINK SO?!”

Sanchez finally began to placate a little, “Okay, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Janus was taken aback, not expecting the apology so easily, “What was that?”

“Hahaha… a few other kids wound up in the hospital thanks to that stunt I pulled. Asthma and shit like that. Almost got in a little bit of hot water.”

Staff still refused to state who perpetrated the mess, maybe this kid was far more brilliant than Janus could imagine.

“I didn’t take you for the kind of person who would give a damn about that sort of stuff.”

Sanchez simply shrugged in response.

Janus found himself staring into Sanchez’s locker, at random parts of electronics and diagrams haphazardly piled into it. “… what’s in there?”

“I dunno. Projects?”

“How helpfully vague.”

“Look, I just like keeping my hands busy, you know, fuck around and find out.”, Sanchez snorted at their own choice of words.

“Why… why did you put AXE in the system, in the first place?”

Sanchez threw up their arms and just said, “I dunno. One moment, it just started off as a ‘you know what would be fucking hilarious’ thought and the next I was going at the preaction sprinkler valve with a wrench, a bunch of cans of Provoke, and a soldering iron.”

“Aaand no part of you went, ‘why don’t we sleep on it’?”

“SLEEP!? Sleep is for the weak, amigo.”

Janus gave them a withering glare, personally greatly appreciating a good snooze himself, “I guess impulse control really isn’t your forte?”

They were overly chipper, “NOPE.”

For some reason, Janus couldn’t stay mad at this point. There was just something strangely endearing about them.

-

The two of them wound up hanging out together more.

Up until that point, Janus just migrated from friend group to friend group, making himself kind of a chameleon to any ne’er-do-wells who might’ve wanted to get a rise out of him. He was good at not taking shit from people and he was usually left alone for it.

Sanchez eventually told Janus that he wanted to be called Remus. That he was actually a guy… mostly. Sort of. Good enough, as far as Janus was concerned.

Janus returned the favor of trust, telling him his actual name. Still choosing not to explain anything, but glad that Remus didn’t make any potshots about how it sounded. Remus was fast warming up to him.

Mutually, they surprised each other about their own predilections for anarchy, and they really hit things off in that department. Janus just had two stipulations: not being the collateral damage again… and maybe Remus should show a little more concern for his own well-being and safety.

(To this day, Janus wasn’t particular successful about the latter part.)

-

One of the next most notable/notorious stunts perpetrated by Remus, neared the end of his freshman year.

A voice blared into the intercom system, ran through some distortion filters to make it less obvious to most people. Several octaves lower and static-y, “Goood morning, bitches, bastards, and everyone else! Thank you for listening to KRAX radio! I’m your host for today, The Duke of Butts himself. Ready for some garbage?! No?! Well, too bad!”

Janus, was split between cracking up and pretending to be just as alarmed as everyone else.

An obnoxious record scratch was heard through the building before an unholy remix of the likes of “Never Gonna Give You Up”, “All-Star”, and “Gangnam Style” started playing. It was the most beautiful and awful thing Janus had ever heard, it brought a tear to his eyes.

His fellow students eventually broke down laughing – in fact several neighboring classrooms worth were cheering and booing.

The teacher was far less amused, angrily dialing for the school administrators probably to report his disdain. It was in vain, since he was drowned out by the classroom and the broadcast.

Silence on the intercom.

The students went “awww” about it.

The teacher tried again, getting though, “You heard that right!? Yeah. Okay. Make sure to catch whosoever responsible for whatever the hell tomfoolery that was!”

Things seemed to quieted down.

That is until the first lunch period, “Goood afternoon, it’s me again! Bet y’all missed me! Huh!? Anyways, time for another plate full of Shitcago.”

Janus snorted as the scratch sample lead into yet another audible travesty. “Sandstorm”, “Shooting Stars”… and “Peanut Butter Jelly Time”.

There was a lot of gasping in awe at the shear audacity, Janus felt a sense of pride. Remus outdid himself, this time.

By then everyone was wondering when this entertainer would show up again.

A few minutes before school was to be dismissed, there was one final broadcast, “Goood evening, fuckers! Have a parting gift from me, before y’all head off to the shitty places you call home!”

Janus winced at the concerning subtext.

Next, Remus outright said, “Record Scratch!?”, for the segue. And what played next… was just “Chemical Bomb” by the Aquabats. Not quite the same level of aural hell as the previous sets… but that did get the school staff REALLY squirrely.

-

Remus didn’t actually talk much about his home life.

Janus came to learn that he had a brother and that his parents just weren’t in the picture anymore. Beyond that?

Whenever Janus gently prodded that hornet’s nest, Remus deflected constantly. Janus desisted after awhile, growing to respect this quirky kid’s boundaries. But that didn’t stop Janus from speculating that something volatile was brewing, Remus getting more and more agitated.

That didn���t stop the two of them from occasionally orchestrating some more dramatic pranks on the school over the next year. Janus helping him with being more discretionary. Remus also did well to shore up Janus’s own vaguely threatening reputation to the school.

(The fact he was going into the care industry, notwithstanding and completely irrelevant.)

It was a small miracle Remus managed to never get caught for his bigger stunts. But he did get more and more disciplinary action against him as Remus cared less and less about this school.

-

Janus was on track and since graduated with surprisingly little incident. Swearing Remus would see him out with a bang, at this point. Janus went straight to a local college, him coming by a family inheritance was a real boon for him to focus on himself.

But, they still kept in touch. Halfway into Remus’s senior year, Remus started a worrisome text conversation with him.

“Hey, can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Sure? Something happen?”

“Uh. I may’ve fucked up. Badly.”

“Listening.”

“I’d rather talk about it in person.”

“Ok? Need ride?”

“I maaay already be halfway to your place. Also, I’m taking my brother over...”

“Pls don’t tell me you’re txting while you drive. Wait – brother?”

A pause, Janus almost imagined Remus sighing, “… I’ll explain later.”

-

Remus arrived at Janus’s doorstep looking like even more of a mess than usual.

There was a bright red hand print on Remus’s face, and clear evidence that he had been crying heavily. The makeup he usually wore washed down his cheeks. Which felt like a twist of a knife in Janus’s chest, this was the opposite of the unflappable goblin of a friend he grew accustomed to.

Remus only mentioned his brother in passing a few times. Part of the whole “I refuse to talk about my family” thing. But Janus was observant enough to note that there was a ghost of a smile whenever he talked about Roman, more than anyone else.

Janus had missed the chance to really get to see him thanks to their age difference and the fact Roman barely kept up with his age grade (compared to Remus). He wasn’t informed why.

Roman was certainly in worse shape, physically. Remus had him to his side, arm over the shoulder for support. Roman’s nose and mouth dribbled with blood, he had a black eye showing, and the arm that wasn’t around Remus hung limply. Roman was woozy, but noticed he was getting stared at, “You just… going to... let me bleed all over your porch or-?”

Asking why the hell these two weren’t in the hospital was a foregone conclusion, so Janus ushered them in.

-

When they all filed into Janus’s living room. One thing was becoming clear. Roman’s arm was wrenched out of socket and Janus bit his lips, “I’m pretty sure that needs a closed reduction. But, I’ve only really done one of those yet, in my training. That is, if nothing is actually broken.”

Remus’s eyes were blown wide, “Well?”

Janus inhaled sharply through his teeth, “It’s not like this is totally a proper a clinic… I can’t exactly give him much to make putting his arm back in socket… Bearable.”

Roman looked like he couldn’t focus on anything other than all the pain, and stayed quiet.

Janus knew he was being unusually pensive, but now’s not the time to unpack that, “Can I see that arm? Just. Just so I have a better idea of what to do about it?”

Roman simply grunted and nodded.

Janus sidled next to him and looked at the injury and gently prodded the area to get a better physical sense of what was wrong here. He didn’t exactly have imaging to go off of, nor a licensed care team, or really anything. This was… so messed up.

Roman winced a little as Janus touched some bruises and aggravated nerves, but let him continue to attend it. Janus, while looking at it still, gulped and asked them, “Um… care to tell me what the hell happened?”

Roman just looked down, unable to talk. Remus started stammering, “T-tío Esteban. Found out about everything and lost his patience with-”

Janus unfortunately couldn’t fully unpack what Remus meant there, he had a few ideas, but still grimaced. That said, Janus’s memory from training was getting jogged, looking at his brother. “Roman, was it? Let’s check to see how much your arm is working now? Get a better sense of the damage here…”

Janus ran through the actions to test how good his nerves and blood supply were, thankfully Roman was remaining conscious and showing some hopeful signs. Janus then left and did as he said, “I’m going to grab a sling, before we do anything else…”

When he came back, “Care to lie on your belly with your left arm hanging off the couch? I’m – I’m only going to try this once. Because I don’t have shit like lidocaine to give you. If it’s not going to work, I don’t want to-”

The brothers sighed, as if they both knew and dreaded what Janus meant. Roman flopped into position on the couch, without another word. Except for some short gasps of pain, probably brushing bruises Janus couldn’t see and aggravating the offending shoulder.

Remus was uncharacteristically timid, glancing at Roman and then at Janus, “He-he stood up for me. The dumb ass. He-he didn’t need to out himself too and-”

Roman hushed Remus.

Janus nodded as he started manipulating Roman’s shoulder blade in a subtle and gentle fashion. This seemed to surprise Roman, “This… isn’t anything like the movies, huh?”

“Well, there are more… forceful techniques. But I’d rather not resort to that.”

Roman mumbled, “… sorry to burden you.”

Janus just sighed, not wanting to address what was buried in that statement either.

Soon enough, Roman sighed in relief once Janus put his shoulder back in place and put that sling on him. Janus did stress he should still get that looked at, totally uncharacteristically prepared to open his wallet for the costs, if need be.

-

For the longest time, it was a shame that Roman didn’t remember very much of what happened, that night. Maybe it was too much trauma for him to access, maybe Roman just wanted to distance himself from it, but Janus wasn’t going to be that kind of “doctor”. When they later rediscovered each other in the gym, years later, it was like they were simply acquaintances. Which hurt… a little.

But Remus certainly remembered. And reminded him how grateful he was, fairly often.

It equally hurt seeing Remus being so hesitant, “Can you… can you help us… you know? He doesn’t want us back home, after-”

“Not even a question, dear.”

[musedblues]

Born To Love You [Part: 3]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Forgive me for taking a while! Life has been properly wild. And I was taking my time with this story anyway, I really want each chapter to be special...  So I hope you lot dig this one! All the feedback and love continues to overflow my little old heart! 💖

w/c: 6k

Part 4

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

If you got to have it your way, you'd avoid going on set and gladly greet Gwilym every night and odd day off. But if Gwilym wouldn't take no for an answer, you did your best to hide out in his trailer, avoid suspicion and keep your fake husband happy all the same. But because Gwilym had made such fast friends of his co-stars, some invitations were unavoidable. When Ben called you both to join him and the others for lunch in some posh garden lodge, you slapped on a big grin and agreed.

The lodge was back behind a mess of trees, it's sign faded by the sun that shone down on the place like it was on display by the heavens. You followed behind Gwil on a gravel path. And before you could reach the steps that lead to the eatery, a voice called out from the opposite fork in the trail.

"Hey!" Ben's recognizable timbre echoed from behind a row of trees, as you whipped your head to see him waving from the bench of a weathered picnic table.

The rest of the cast had taken over a small jungle gym. Rami claimed the only swing, its rickety bubblegum poles threatening to uproot. Lucy and Joe were squealing on opposite ends of a seesaw. And when Joe noticed you and Gwilym had joined the picnic table across the way, he practically launched Lucy off of her end of the equipment in his hurry to come and greet you.

And there it was again; that look. The one Joe gave you when you met. The one that made your heart stir just thinking about it. If his gaze painted your daydrems, meeting his eyes in real time was spellbinding. This was why you stayed away. Because you couldn’t help but stare. 

Olive cackled in your arms as Lucy cursed Joe's name from the place she'd fallen in the mulch. All at once everyone passed around warm greetings, then hurried back to the play place, arguing over turns to help Olive down the slide like antsy siblings on the first day of recess.

"Alright, I invited you all here for the food! We can have fun later. I'm starving." Ben coxed, waving for everyone to follow him indoors at last. You had just beaten Rami at a rain worn hopscotch game painted on the path that led inside. He kept walking to follow Ben, and when you turned back, you spotted Joe lifting Olive up and pointing to a pair of sparrows settled on a branch near the play place.

The only thing that stopped you from melting into a puddle was catching Gwilym's eye. There was a smile behind his expression and a look in his gaze, a little like a warning, but more like a dare.

"Joe, I would ask if you want children one day but the answer seems pretty obvious." Lucy laughed on her saunter toward your side.

"You should really be asking Rami these kinds of questions, Lucy," Joe said, causing Gwilym to laugh hard. Lucy linked her arm with yours, leading you away from the scene and toward a steadier heartbeat, you hoped.

The lodge was made up of a couple of dozen miss-matched tables and chairs, occupied by a few other chilly looking patrons sipping warm drinks. There was even a small gift shop in the corner, where most of your crew scattered toward.

You followed Gwil to a cozy little table and left Olive in his lap while you took his order to the counter across the room. A sweet young girl with warm curls and the perfect smile was happy to hand you a couple of pastries and informed that someone would bring out the hot drinks you ordered. You thanked her and eased to rest across from Gwilym and your girl.

You mindlessly noshed on sweet blueberry bread when your drinks came but you failed to ignore when Joe flirted with the girl behind the pastry counter. Gwilym wasn't helping. He offered no distractions, or conversation as you listened in on Joe's sickening exchange with the girl who had just been as nice to you.

"A large vanilla frappe and a complimentary cinnamon muffin because you're so sweet." The freckle-faced girl giggled, repeating back his order with a special modification of her own.

Joe was genuinely thankful at the gesture, a treat from the universe. He lingered in front of the counter a little longer, but you had to block out the continued chat. Something like this seemed to happen every time you'd wound up near Joe.

You noticed when he got free muffins, favorite songs on the car radio, pennies on the sidewalk. He cradled these gifts and called them his own, because they were. And it was a precious sight to behold. You couldn't shake the wish splintered within you; that you might be one of those things he held onto so dearly.

"Hey!" Gwilym actually threw a raisin at you. It bounced from your brow onto the floor as you turned back in shock.

"Stop staring you look like a sad puppy," Gwilym warned through his teeth, holding Olive in his lap as she reached for the cup of tea he lifted to his lips.

You let out a sorry whine as a memory of your arrival at the top of this hill flashed across your mind. Joe's shimmering eyes locking onto yours while something electric buzzed through his glare. You slumped your head onto the marble tabletop and continued to pathetically groan like Tina from Bob's Burgers.

"Am I... interrupting something?" Joe's stupidly recognizable voice cut through your self-pity. You just lifted your head with a neutral smile.

He pulled up a seat from a mismatched table, setting his drink down. You reached for your own and leaned back, pretending to be preoccupied with your coffee. Joe cast a curious look to Gwilym who was sharing apple slices with his daughter.

"Must be nap time." Gwilym stretched a silly smile across his face looking to Joe.

"Ha ha." You mocked.

"You guys gotta try this muffin," Joe demanded.

You let out a hopeless chuckle while Gwilym shook his head at you with a sorry grin. It was such an unfunny, funny little predicament you found yourself in. Maybe laughing about it was good. Maybe you were getting through this...

"There's a bar upstairs!" Lucy chirped, skipping over to settle between Gwilym and Joe, bringing along a chair, it legs scraping on the hardwood. The other boys followed...

"And there's a band playing in an hour." The girl was making plans, casting big eyes to the boys who knew the question behind her statement. Lucy explained that Rami had already planned to sleep the rest of his weekend off and that she was desperate to have a little fun. Joe had plans with Ben, and Gwilym was exhausted, too. 

"I'll pay for our drinks and our ride back." Lucy turned her big sad eyes your way.

"You should stay! We can manage, just us two, done it before haven't we?" Gwilym spoke up, bouncing Olive in his lap. It was a sweet offer but the way he alluded to being on his own with Olive made your heart clench. It was almost like he wanted someone to find out you weren’t so often around each other. You noticed a look on Ben's face, pushed in brows at the sound of Gwilym's tone.

"Are you sure?" You asked, almost reminding him that you were supposed to be acting like you'd never spent a day without each other since your made up honeymoon.

"Yeah, of course," Gwyilm assured, softer now. And whatever worry had sprouted in you, was settled with the nod of Gwilym's head. You took note then of how he always knew just how to put you at ease, even if he hadn't realized he was the one who caused your apprehension.  

///

Upstairs was made up of fairy lights, a well stocked mini bar, a small stage where an old married couple sat strumming guitars, and very few audience members. And while you and Lucy did your best to clap after every song, you just wound up getting lost in conversation.

Lucy was on her third cocktail. You stuck to water after your second. And between drinks, you laughed over nothing in the way that made your heart ache with melancholy for the day moments like this were only memories.

When there was more ice in her drink than alcohol, Lucy started in on some monologue about life, and love, and Rami. She rambled about how she felt about him, and how she was sure he must have felt about her.

You had no doubt that they were close to perfect for each other. But Lucy headed into chattering about their first fight, and how petrified of losing him she was. How she wanted to shower Rami with love, but was afraid she wasn't good enough for the job.

"Did you feel that way with Gwil at first? How are things now, after so long together?" Lucy seemed to plead for her own clarity.

You let out a humorless chuckle. "Things with us have always been... complicated." You thought,  choosing your words carefully even in your happily buzzed state. Lucy kept her gaze zeroed in on you, waiting to hear more.

"Even now. We've never been better... or worse. All at once." You gave a shrug, and Lucy raised her brow in obvious surprise.

You and Gwil always talked about things before diving into them together. That changed when he missed the opportunity to take back his usually forgivable lie. But the talking stopped. Life with Gwyilm became uncomfortably familiar. You'd never shared so many wordless looks.

"Well, better is good, yeah?" Lucy gently suggested, more like she was hoping for herself.

"Yeah, I guess so." You decided, because that's all you could do. That seemed good enough for Lucy, as she sat up with a new speech in mind.

"I want the rest of this year, this time we all have together, to be nothing but fun." Lucy pointed, stringing her words a little closer together than anyone with a clearer head might have. The pretty girl rambled about how her sister was opening a gallery the first of the new year, and how she was inviting you and Gwil and neither of you could back out. Saying something about how if you all started the new year out together, then you'd be surreptitiously inclined to be the best of friends for the rest of all time.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." Lucy giggled, grabbing onto your arm, shooting you a look that warned she was scheming. You grinned back, turning to face her all the way, setting your glass of water aside.

"Joe's birthday is soon and I'm planning something big. Something we can all do together, for him." Lucy declared. You felt every muscle in your face automatically reacting to pull your smile into a frown. But with every bit of sober strength you still had, you put on your best poker face and reached out for your drink you'd only just abandoned.

"What did you have in mind?" You asked, hoping you sounded more curious than cautious. Lucy burst into a laugh as you sipped your drink to keep from panicking out loud.

"I don't have a single clue yet." Lucy laughed with a sigh. "But it's going to be great."

///

As you sneaked back into your Airbnb you felt grateful for the night of fun with Lucy. It was the first time you'd been away from Gwil and Olive since this whole big thing started, and as the night went on you'd found yourself missing their usual constant presence. You'd get that in the morning, with a catch. Joe.

Gwilym had planned a big day out, buying tickets to the aquarium and talking about how excited he was to roam around for a day, no schedules or work to worry over. He'd invited Joe knowing the guy had no plans all weekend, no family nearby, nothing better to do.

When the morning came, and Gwil gushed over breakfast about what he was looking forward to the most, you let that be enough. You let Olive’s claps of the agreement be your fuel for gearing up to go out.

And when Joe knocked on your door wearing a withheld grin and a warm jumper, you stepped back to let him in, turning your eyes toward the carpet so he couldn't see you blush. Maybe he noticed though, because when you looked back up, Joe was still waiting to meet your gaze.

Gwilym was quick to greet his friend, ushering everyone out of the door Joe had only just entered. Today was going to be a good one, you told yourself so.

After parking the car, you watched Gwil wrestle to unfold a new stroller. Joe chuckled when his friend denied help, insisting he had to figure it out on his own. Eventually, he did, buckling Olive in triumphantly. The effort must have exhausted your fake husband because he made a b-line for a coffee shop around the corner while you and Joe took shots at poking fun at Gwil.

You stood guard next to Olive in her brand new ride while Gwilym raced to patiently wait in the long coffee shop line. Joe stood near you, debating on joining Gwil, but decided against ordering anything.

As you distracted yourself by checking your cell, you heard Gwilym's warm chuckle from across the room. The sound was familiar enough for you to gaze up curiously, finding the guy with his arms crossed, leaning closer to listen to some woman in line speak just to him.

Gwilym was kind to everyone, always keen to listen. Everyone loved Gwilym. And whether you were near or not, plenty of people had taken their shot at flirting with the handsome man. You were hardly phased in those cases and were usually quick to poke fun at his attempts to flirt back. But when the girl in front of Gwilym kept spinning in line to gaze up and bite her lip as he spoke, you rolled your eyes. When he reached out to nudge her to keep the line moving, a faint bout of resentment threatened to wash over you.

You quickly decided that it was because Gwilym had done such a marvelous job at testing your nerves this week, and the feelings you'd been trying to push away were looking for an excuse to creep back up. So you started to bring your phone closer to view, but then your eyes swept over Joe.

His gaze was unsettled, watching Gwilym shamelessly flirt back with the girl, even after she ordered her coffee and lingered too close while he ordered his.

"Uh..." Joe uttered, starting to look back at you with a troubled frown.

"It's okay." You quickly shut down whatever Joe might have wanted to say next. You hadn't expected him to accept this with a shrug, but you needed Joe to stop looking at you like he was. You realized that anything you might have said next would probably worsen things , so you just gave Joe a small shake of your head, silently asking him not to worry about it.

That's when Gwilym approached, seemingly clueless of the thin ice he'd just skated away from. You shot him a look on your way back outside and managed to shift into a comfortable chatter as you led the way toward the aquarium. So far the morning was just as awkward as you feared it might have been, and with that thought, you decided you could manage. You'd learned how to attach yourself to Gwil, and how to save your swooning for Joe when you were alone at the end of the day.

As you approached the aquarium, Gwilym's phone rang. He groaned when his agent's name flashed across the screen, excusing himself a few feet away to answer.

You settled onto a bench as Olive pointed toward your bag, babbling in a way you understood. You reached in and revealed a small stuffed elephant much to your daughter's delight. When you handed the thing to her, she held it right back up,

"Joe!" The kid caught your guest's attention as he sat next to you, taking the toy from Olive with overblown thanks.

"You sure you wanna spend your day entertaining her?" You asked Joe through a warning laugh. Now that she had his attention, she'd likely long to keep it that way.

"Gladly." Joe looked at you as he answered. Luckily, Olive called out his name again so you both had a reason to look away.

That's when you noticed Gwil approaching while his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"They want me and Ben to come in right bloody now." He huffed, gazing up to the entrance of the place he'd made big plans to spend the day exploring.

"For how long?" You wondered.

Gwilym didn't know, lulling his head back clearly at a loss. He had to go, but what about you? You couldn't just not take Olive in with the way you'd been promising her this adventure all week.

"I'll email you guys the tickets to get in... I'll try and meet back up soon. Unless you want a ride back with me, Joe..." Gwilym offered, knowing there was no reason the guy had to spend his afternoon with his best friend's fake wife.

"I'll stay..." Joe decided, but hesitantly. "If that's alright?" He looked at you, seeming to realize, or at least recognize for the first time, that this was strange.

You nodded to the man with fossils for eyes, and made a mental note to scold Gwilym later. After a rushed goodbye, Gwilym sulked off. You felt bad that he was suddenly called away, knowing how excited he had been for this day. But then there was Joe. He seemed happy. And you weren't about to take this sudden change of plans for granted, no matter how your guts twisted up on your walk inside, alone together.

///

Olive was purely enchanted by the sea life. Giant radiant fish glided above your heads in expansive tanks. It was like stepping into another dim, quiet world.

"Bird!" Olive pointed up to a slow-moving sting ray. You figured she'd like the aquarium based on her fascination with things with wings, but this wasn't exactly the same.

"No, fish." You corrected, pointing up.

"No, scary." Joe joked, pointing to a larger, more intimidating looking sea creature. Your eyes searched the plaque on the wall that told what types of fish swam through the tank you stood near.

"Oh my God, look." You laughed, stepping closer to the wall. "It's called a Guitarfish." You pointed to the display and looked back into the tank at the skinny, oddly shaped stingray that you now recognized as half-shark. Joe shared in your laughter and stepped closer to take a photo of the plaque.

"Thanks for inviting me to this death trap." Joe laughed, as you three eased into the shark exhibit. It was a bit jarring, surrounded by walls of water where ancient monsters floated just feet away from you.

"They're just dinosaurs, ya know?" You mused, setting Olive on her feet and watching her shuffle closer to the glass where a sand tiger shark floated right by her face. You noticed another plaque and spun toward Joe with a smile, pointing to the fish behind his back.

"That one's name is Bungle. See? Loveable and harmless."

"It says here you can swim with them," Joe smirked, stepping closer to read what you just had.

"Okay, well maybe that's taking it a little too far." You laughed.

"Why? They're harmless dinosaurs, right?" Joe chuckled. You watched Olive watching the sharks glide by as Joe spun off into a story about Jurassic Park. Families cruised through pointing and chatting as you stood against the wall, listening to the guy you'd been avoiding until now.

When Olive ran back toward you pair and reached her arms up to Joe, he scooped her up without missing a beat and kept on telling his story. You laughed and listened and let yourself become completely entranced by the daydream you were living.

This was it, you decided. As good as it gets. When today was over, you'd let yourself have it, and then you'd move on. No more yearning. No more hopeless gazes right in Joe's direction. This was it.

The turtles were a big hit, and you were personally taken with the octopus exhibit. But the room full of penguins obviously took the cake.

"These are birds!" You excitedly chirped, probably a little more excited than Olive about the scenario. She clapped her hands together, all the same, dashing toward the glass. You sat on the floor next to her and watched a group of penguins waddle toward where you sat. Olive waved and pointed and squealed accordingly. Even though you had to remind her to use her inside voice, you felt just as overjoyed that this experience was a win.

"We can leave if you'd like." You assured Joe when he appeared next to you after another family cleared the area.

"Absolutely not!" Joe demanded, sitting on the other side of Olive who was glued to the glass of the exhibit. "This is obviously our reward for making it out of the shark tank alive."

You sat there forever, watching Olive travel back and forth when the penguins would jump in the water. Then came the gift shop. Olive picked out a plush penguin, and Joe corralled you both to the storybook section where he put on a dramatic reading of a magazine about jellyfish.

You left the aquarium and stepped out to the golden hour. The afternoon was still new, but your eyes felt heavy after all the fun had been left inside the aquarium.

"I think I'd like to find that coffee shop again." You spoke up, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the new light.

Joe insisted on buying your drink since you'd treated him to today's grand adventure. You eventually obliged upon arrival, settling into a cozy booth by a window. Olive had curled up in the curve of the booth next to you, with your jacket bunched under her head, fast asleep.

You praised God that naptime had found its way into the afternoon schedule and took some time to send James and Andy photos of Olive pointing at giant sharks. That's when Joe reappeared with two plastic cups of coffee. You greeted him with a grateful thanks.

"These photos turned out so well. I was just sending them to my roommates." You explained, clicking your phone off altogether.

"You have roommates?" Joe wondered, sipping his own latte and leaning across the table with his head propped in his hand. Oh, shit. You and Joe had grown increasingly comfortable with each other during your aquatic escapade, but you surely weren't dumb enough to slip up so carelessly.

"Used to." You falsely corrected. "Lived together so long, sometimes I forget." You let out a breathy laugh, wrapping your fingers around your warm styrofoam mug and thanking Joe again for being so kind.

His hair was a little windblown, and his eyes seemed tired. The warm coffee shop was certainly a change of pace from walking the chilly London streets. But the conversation was just as easy as it had been always. Joe texted you the photo of the guitarfish plaque and you spoke about things that you each marveled over as children. When you started cracking up over some silly joke, Olive sat up and was ready to party all over again. You started to brush back her matted curls, but she clamored away from you and toward Joe, around the curve of the booth.

"You don't have to put up with her, ya know?" You reminded as Olive climbed into Joe's lap before you could stop her. But Joe welcomed the baby's embrace, sipping his coffee all the same.

"I really don't mind. We're like, best friends now. Right?" Joe looked down at Olive, who responded by wrapping her tiny arms around Joe's neck. Oh God, you should have never come to London.

But soon your coffee's were gone, and Olive was clearly ready for dinner. Without much discussion, you ended up in a small bistro with a friendly atmosphere. Olive demanded orange juice, and some came in a novelty sippy cup.

"That's way too fun. I'm so about to get one of those for myself." Joe decided, laughing over the boldly designed sippy cup. He really did order one for himself and kept pretending to steal Olive's and forgetting his own, making her laugh like crazy. You were just about to take a photo of the scene when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Gwilym greeted seeming sorry.

"Good day?" You wondered, unsure what else to say as a pang of strange guilt crept up inside of you.

"I'm just about to leave the city. Do you need a ride home? Should I pick up dinner?"

"No, no, wait where are you?"

Gwilym was literally a street away from where you were. So you demanded he come and enjoy the last half of your adventure. Joe was happy to hear your party was growing in size, and a kind waitress brought Olive a set of crayons and some paper to keep her from going crazy while stationed in a high chair.

That was about the time Gwilym showed up. He shouldered past a few patrons and laid eyes on you and Joe in an instant. Olive was holding out a crayon to Joe, babbling to him while he listened intently.

Gwil should have been jealous, or oddly territorial, right? He wondered if he should have even pretended to be. But Gwilym only felt a huge swell of happiness, watching you all laugh. He felt happy to see you happy for once. Because for a while now, your smile had mostly been for show.

When Gwilym approached your table, you couldn't even hold back your cheesy grin, while you rested your crayon and greeted him. Before he sat down, Gwilym gave you the strangest look. As if he'd just watched the end of a very satisfying movie. Like he'd just seen something unexpected come together.

Gwilym sat next to Joe, and the two made a show of reuniting. Then you both got to telling of the fun you had while Gwil was away, and even though a lingering sadness pulled at you, knowing Gwil was sad to have missed out, he seemed charmed by your stories. For the rest of the evening you all spent together, you kept crossing your fingers behind your back every time laughing at Joe's jokes seemed easy. You kept wishing this would somehow become as normal as it felt.

///

The weather was worse than dreary, the sky black with rain and fog clouding your view out of every window. Gwilym had been extra busy after the weekend break, so there wasn't much of a chance for you to visit him on set. As a result, Olive was going a bit stir crazy. 

You did your best to keep the girl entertained with the children's channel permanently playing on the flat screen, attempting to build a fort in the living room. But it wasn't enough for Olive. She started tossing toys away with frustrated whines and wailing when she didn't like the breakfast you cooked, even though it was her favorite. And the crying got worse as you wrestled her for bath time and offered teething toys she just didn't want.

Going on day three of her never-ending tantrum, you were exhausted. And even though you barely slept, you were out cold when Gwilym made it home, and you hadn't heard him leave before you woke up. Your morning started when Olive wept from her cot, hardly soothed by your attempts to cuddle her frustrations away.

By the middle of the afternoon, you sat on the edge of the sofa, waiting for your poor daughter's next big breakdown. This time, it came with a warning. Olive stood on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring right at you as she reached for a cup full of juice.

You called out her name, warning her to be careful, giving her a chance. But the kid tossed the cup to the floor, the lid falling off, red seeping into the rented shag rug. She wasn't two yet. The days weren't supposed to be so terrible. You called out her name, standing to stop her from crawling away. The babe burst into upsetting cries, knowing she was in trouble. You placed her in the playpen across the room, taking her favorite toy bat as the only punishment you could think up in your frazzled, fatigued state. And while you rushed to clean up the stain to the tune of your daughter's sobs, you cried too.  

Maybe Olive missed home. Maybe you did too.

"Hello-oh." Gwilym dropped his bags by the door and cautiously floated toward where you slumped against the coffee table. Olive was still wailing, and you were practically despondent and equally as tear-stained.

"Hi," You mewled as Gwilym held a hand out to. He shot you a sorry frown as he guided you to sit on the sofa.

Olive remained wailing, and you both knew something had to be done quickly or the baby would go permanently insane. Gwilym spun on his heels, noticing Olive's favorite toy bat on the coffee table. He picked it up, you thought, as an easy fix for her crying.

"Wait!" You plead. Gwilym looked to you in confusion as you hurried to explain yourself. "She's in time out. If you give that back, you'll be the good guy. I'll be the bad guy and I can't be the bad guy while I'm alone with her all day." You were panicking. You felt the walls closing in. You had to come back from this.

Gwilym listened as he slowly walked back toward you. Olive's cries were somehow dulled as she watched the two of you interact.

"She spilled juice all over the rug. I tried to clean it up but it's still kind of there. That's not even the half of it, though." You slumped forward, running your fingers through your hair.

"Then here, darling." Gwilym knelt before you, placing the plastic bat in your lap. He clasped one of his hands over your knee to get your attention. "You give it back to her, later."

Just the simple act of expressing your pent up frustration was a load off your shoulders. 

"We'll run to the store for carpet cleaner. We'll even take the long way home so you can have a bit of quiet." Gwil assured.

"You don't have to take her, I know you've had a long day and-" You started.

"I'm gonna." Gwilym chuckled. He took your hand, placed it over the toy bat in your lap and gave a decided nod. "I'm sorry I've been away. And I'm sorry the week has been so hard. But I'm very glad you came to stay, for what it's worth."

You nodded, furrowing your brow. "Thank you Gwil."

With another small nod, he stood to collect your daughter, and you stood to go draw a bath. This might have been your only chance to relax for the rest of the foreseeable future. As you rounded the corner, before the door shut behind him you heard Gwilym talking to Olive,

"You've got to stop causing your mummy so much trouble. That's my job."

You wanted to laugh, but you knew you'd only cry. Because he made you want to shake his shoulders and sense into his head. But you really couldn't believe how much you relied on him. You considered this during a steam-filled bubble bath, and crawled into bed for a nap when you just couldn't think any longer.

///

You woke up to dull thuds of rain against the window, the smell of food in the air. Your daughter was babbling in the other room, and the sounds of pots and pans rattled you all the way awake.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes to find Olive flipping through big picture books in the low lit living area. A little further away, Gwilym was shutting the oven door when he noticed you.

"Hello! I got the stain out of the carpet and picked up some extra bits for dinner." The guy smiled kindly, turning back toward the stove when steam started to billow. You took a beat to watch on in wonder before thanking Gwil profusely for going above and beyond saving the day- the week rather.

Everything was back to normal, with a little help from the father of your child. "Oh, and I've got a surprise for later!" Gwilym echoed as you eased further into the kitchen.

Right when you were about to ask what the hell Gwilym was on about, a Facetime call from James lit up your phone screen. You answered in a flash, greeting your dearest friend like you hadn't spoken in years.

You settled onto the floor next to Olive who was just as pleased to see your roommate on your phone screen. You only stood when she kept threatening to chew on your phone case, and floated toward the kitchen where Gwil was happily working away.

"And how's the happy couple?" James jeered like usual, as you propped your phone against the counter. But instead of laughing, or giving some exaggerated answer like you always would, your face fell. Gwil shifted from the stove, noticing your expression as he turned down one of the burners.

"Tell him." Gwilym softly suggested, stepping closer as if to encourage you. You'd never planned to tell anyone. You weren't sure what to say, but you wondered if getting this lie off your chest to someone who it hardly affected might help, somehow.

"Uh, guys..." James pipped up.

"Actually, allow me to begin." Gwilym stepped further into the frame as you took his place string dinner on the stovetop.

"Oh, of course, our third wheel! Was I crazy in expecting this video chat date to be a one on one?" James wildly drew. You chuckled from behind Gwil, watching him lean both arms against the counter.

"Where's our fourth wheel?" You jeered from across the room. "This car is running like shite." You laugh. You missed Andy, and the comforting chaos your two roommates provided.

"Listen" Gwilym brought the focus back to the matter at hand. "I wanted to start by saying that I messed up and I really wish I hadn't. And every time I suggest making things right, your darling Y/N stops me." 

Gwilym was obviously immensely regretful, but you were both in too deep. You had been long before he perpetuated the lie. But he still should have cleared the air from ever becoming even more sticky.

He went on explaining the whole situation to James, who listened without piping up once. James was never speechless. You must have really fucked up.

"You guys. I'm going to ask you something and I'm gonna need the honest, raw truth." James wasn't being funny anymore. You drifted closer into the frame, watching your best friends pixelated form lean close.

"Do either of you have feelings for each other? At all?" James questioned.

He'd asked this before, in a much more lighthearted manner. You and Gwilym had always been sickeningly doting to one another, giving the circumstances. Like one morning, very soon after finding out you were pregnant, you pleaded for Gwilym to spend the night simply to keep you company. The morning after, you both burst into a fit of giggles over breakfast, waking James from his bedroom down the hall. "Are you two shaggin' again?" He groaned. "God, no." You laughed.

"They bang, or whatever." James once said when introducing Gwil and a very pregnant you to some of his coworkers at a party. "We don't, actually!" You corrected. But Gwilym's hand was already splayed across your shoulder. James coworkers fixated their stares on your pregnant stomach and looked back up to you as if to prove a point. And you spent the rest of the party explaining that even though you used to bang Gwil, didn't mean you still were or even wanted to. Because you didn't. But you wanted to want to.

"No!" You sighed in frustration, after considering all of that. James' digital eyebrows rose as if to give you a second chance.

"Look. She's telling the truth mate. I don't think I have romantic feelings for her either. But I do love her and I feel like shite for making her put up with this, especially because-" Gwilym halted, ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. You knew exactly where he was going with this.

"Because...?" James prodded.

"It's not my place to say." Gwilym turned to look right at you.

"Y/N. What's going on?" James called. Right on cue, Olive cried from the other room, it must have been time for a change.

Gwilym stopped you from turning away and insisted he go. And when he drifted into the other room, you let out a deep sigh as your friend spoke up again.

"Now that he's gone... is there anything you need to confess?"

"I don't know what's going on James." You admitted, bringing your phone closer as you moved to lean against the door frame of the patio.

"You sure about that?" James squinted.

"I was so pissed at Gwil. But then I thought we could make it work. And I've been spending all week trying to think up exactly how to fall in love with my baby's daddy. And I just fucking can't." You gestured pitifully.

"You're sure? Love isn't a crush babe. Do you think of Gwil when he's away?" James wondered gently. "Do you feel at home when you look at him?"

And then all at once, there was a traffic jam in your heart. Something inside you stopped and caused all your other feelings to halt. Your realization was so massive that there was nowhere else to look but the cold hard truth.

"Not... not Gwilym, no." You spoke slowly, in a hush. That was what you'd always wanted. To feel like someone was your missing link. You wanted to feel sick with love. You'd longed to be looked at the way you'd seen in movies.

Joe's face blinded your vision, and it made you sick alright. Sick with the realization that no matter how badly you wanted Joe, you seemed to need Gwilym.

"Oh." James hummed like he'd read your mind. And with how closely bonded you two had become over the years, you didn't doubt the possibility. "I see."

"James I can't talk about this tonight." You realized, noticing Gwilym guiding Olive to crawl toward the kitchen for dinner. You feared if you started unraveling your tangled feelings that whatever the messy web was holding back would break through. And you couldn't let that happen. You promised James you'd fill him in soon, and hurried to hang up.

But before you could lock your phone and finish making dinner, you noticed an unseen message in your notifications. With a held breath you opened it,

Joe: Forgot to send you this! See you soon?

Below his simple statement was a photo you never knew existed. It was of you crouched next to Olive at the London Aquarium's penguin exhibit. Your silhouettes were illuminated by radiant blue light and you and your daughter were looking at each other, instead of the birds crowding near. Your heart swooped in your chest at the thought of Joe snapping the candid.

You let out a sigh and sucked your feelings way deep down in one giant breath, leaving your phone on the counter as you turned to unveil dinner from the oven.

Gwil quietly asked if you were alright in a way that sounded like he already knew the answer to that question. You convinced him everything was fine, that everything had to be fine. Then there was a knock at the door.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @redspecialty​ @itscale​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @joemazzelo​ @dancetohotspace​ @kiwi-hardy​ @joeneslee​ @borhapqueen92​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @johndeaconshands​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @beepbeephardy​ @slutforbritdick​ @joemazzmatazz​ @almightygwil​

[queenofbaws]

Day 12: Drink

Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley, Josh Washington (mentions of the UD and MoM crews) Words: 1,665 Rating: T (Language, references to alcohol/drinking) Author’s note: They say to write what you know. So. Here’s a little something-something about the boys reminding Ashley of a few things she, uh...missed at Jess’s birthday party, loosely based on real-life events that @unicornaffair can attest to ;P Remember to drink responsibly, everyone - you never know when the guy with the guitar’s going to show up. ---

“Well I really gotta dip, but hey, it was super fun running into you guys. Check you later!”

The three of them made the requisite faces, smiles more plastic than flesh as they waved and chorused their own “Bye!”s in return, waiting until Julia had crossed the street to drop the grins and roll their eyes instead.

“Man, she’s a lot.”

“Yeah, well, Conrad’s her fucking brother, what were you expecting? Swear to God, their childhood home must’ve been built on top of a nuclear waste facility or some shit. No other way to explain how they can just talk and talk without breathing.”

Ashley sighed with a little shake of her head, reassuming her earlier slouch as she took a sip of her frappe. “Yeah, the whole fakey-fake friendly thing is just…too much. I mean, did you hear her acting like we were old friends? Like, if you hadn’t mentioned Conrad, I wouldn’t have had any idea who she was…”

Chris paused, a hint of confusion tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Uh…you do realize you’ve met Julia before, right?”

“No I haven’t.”

Josh turned away from the street to shoot her his own disbelieving look. “You…are you joking? You absolutely have.”

“I have not!” She took to stabbing at the whipped cream with her straw, “I think I’d remember meeting Julia.”

The guys exchanged a glance, Chris’s brow furrowed, Josh’s raised as high as it could go. If there was anything they knew, it was that Ashley wasn’t just a bad liar, she was an abysmal one, which meant…well it meant they’d just stumbled upon something real interesting.

“Okay, um, but you did,” Chris insisted, “We should know. We were there.”

It was obvious immediately that she wasn’t buying it. “Uh huh. Okay. You guys have your little goof, that’s fine…”

“It’s not a goof, Ash! We met her at Jess’s birthday party last weekend.”

“She wasn’t at Jess’s birthday party.”

With a single swipe of his arm, Josh cleared the space on the table between the three of them, hunching himself closer to the center. He looked like an interrogator sniffing out the weaknesses of a suspect’s story. “Let’s play a fun game, how about that?”

Ash’s expression was flat. “I hate your games. Your games are consistently the worst.”

“No, this one’s gonna be fun, and more importantly, it’s gonna be easy. Here are the rules: You tell us every single thing you remember from baby Jessica’s big bee-day bash, and that’s it! That’s the game.”

Her eyes rolled towards Chris, but he wasn’t a whole lot of help. He just sort of shrugged and waved her on, so she groaned, dropping both of her hands onto the rippled glass of the tabletop. “Oh my God…okay, um…we stopped at the store before we got there so we could pick up gifts…”

“I’m with you so far,” Josh prompted.

“Then we got to her parents’ house and set everything down in the kitchen where everybody else had left their gifts. There was pizza and the whole kitchen island was full of bottles of booze other people had brought…”

Josh met Chris’s gaze again, shooting him a pointed look. “Uh huh…”

“We all got ourselves drinks, a bunch of people started doing shots, I tried to take a shot but it burned really, really bad so I ended up choking on it and you—” she turned to Chris, one of her eyebrows cocked, her expression withering in its exasperation, “—patted me on the back and said ‘Better luck next time, champ.’”

“That does sound like something I’d say. I’m a very supportive friend.”

“Then we sat down at that big round table in the dining room, to…” It was only then that the first hint of uncertainty wormed its way into her, creasing her forehead. “To…play Cards Against Humanity?”

It was beginning to make a startling amount of sense. Josh rested his cheek on one of his hands, beaming like a child who’d managed to catch up to the ice cream truck as he watched Ash from across their little table. “What happened next, sugarplum?”

Ashley was quiet for a long time. A suspiciously long time. She’d taken hold of her straw again, whirling it through her whipped cream until it blended into a syrupy mess with the dregs of her drink. “And then…I was sitting on the living room floor…and the credits of The Land Before Time were on tv.”

For a second, nothing happened except Ash’s stirring. On the sidewalk behind them, a few chattering people walked by. A car horn honked on some distant street. And then Chris put his head down on the table, wrapped up in his arms, his shoulders shaking with poorly repressed laughter.

Immediately Ashley’s face went bright red. She glared at him, then turned to Josh who was still grinning like the Cheshire Cat on crack, finding absolutely no help whatsoever. “What? What?”

Josh shrugged noncommittally, but she knew that shit-eating grin anywhere. He was just a little better at hiding his guffaws than Chris was, that was all. “That’s it, huh? That’s the sum total of what you remember.” When she didn’t respond, he snickered, shaking his head. “Oh Trashley, my love.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Quick follow-up question, how much do you remember drinking before sitting down at that ‘big round table in the dining room?’”

Her mouth tightened.

And that’s when Josh gave up trying to hold back his laughter. Oh, he laughed. He laughed, all right. “Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ! Okay, okay, no, no, wait, hang on…” he turned to Chris and jostled his shoulder so he’d pull his head up again. “There’s no way…there’s like…okay, no fucking way. There was no fucking way you were that gone and still managed to…oh good Christ.”

“Ash,” Chris started, his voice sounding almost pleading, “There were hours between those two things! Hours! Literal hours!”

She felt her face burn even brighter than it already had been. “Ha ha, funny guys…”

“You won like five rounds of Cards!” Chris threw his arms out to his sides. “You were on fire!”

“Yeah, we’d been playing for a little while when Julia and her boyfriend Alex showed up. I…fuck, I’m losing it, I can’t believe you don’t remember that…they played with us. Emily and Alex got into a full-blown screaming match over something stupid—”

“Julia was sitting next to you!”

Ashley sank into her seat, something not unlike dawning horror spreading across her face. “She so was not…”

“She absolutely fucking was. You guys were sharing a bowl of Doritos.”

“We weren’t!”

“They were Cool Ranch.”

“I hate Cool Ranch!”

Chris nodded, “We kept trying to tell you that, but you kept insisting that they would ‘balance out your stomach acids’ or something like that.”

“Yeah, and then Mike found Jess’s dad’s acoustic guitar and kept trying to play Wonderwall—”

“See? See! This is what I mean! You guys are just making fun of me!”

Again, the two of them traded looks before Josh nodded down towards Chris’s seat. The friendship telepathy was strong between them, so he didn’t need anything besides that to pull his phone out, quickly scrolling through his contacts before hitting the call button, tapping speakerphone on. There was a moment where they sat listening to the call ring through…and then a familiar, if not slightly confused, voice answered.

“…hello?”

“Hey Sam. Quick question for you, it’ll take fifteen seconds, I promise.” Chris raised his eyebrows in Ash’s direction, one of his fingers cranking up the volume on his phone so there’d be no mistaking her answer. “Do you remember that stupid shit Mike was doing at Jess’s birthday party?”

“Uh,” the speakerphone made Sam’s voice sound tinny, as though she was speaking through an empty soup can, but she could be heard loud and clear. “Oh God. You mean with the guitar? Eugh, I’m literally cringing thinking about i—”

“Thank you!” Chris said cheerfully, hanging up on her with absolutely zero warning.

“Oho, she’s gonna be pissed you did that,” Josh muttered under his breath.

Sam’s impending wrath was the farthest thing from Ashley’s mind in that moment. If such a thing was possible, she seemed to slouch even lower in her seat, no doubt dangling halfway off of it by that point. She covered her face with her hands, though she was sure they could still see the way her ears were burning. “Oh my God…how did I miss all that?”

“I think the bigger question, Ashley darling, is how you don’t seem to remember giving a forty-five minute lecture on the history of breakfast cereal to the rest of the class.” Josh was absolutely in his glory.

Ashley, however, was not. She sat bolt-upright again, hands falling away to reveal how wide her eyes were. “I did not.”

“Oh, you did.”

“I didn’t do the whole part about bran flakes—”

“Being invented to keep people from jerking it? Yeah. Yeah that was sort of your thesis statement, actually. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was riveting stuff…”

“I learned a lot,” Chris agreed.

It was her turn to drop her head onto the table, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m never letting you guys make my drinks again. Ever. Ever.”

“Ooh the blame game, real nice Ash. Look, we can’t help it if your tiny little metabolism—”

Chris cut in, leaning in over the table, “Wait, wait, does that mean you don’t remember telling us all during the movie that The Land Before Time gave you nightmares about T-rexes chasing you into bramble patches when you were a kid? You did that, too. I thought you were just being especially vulnerable with us all, but…”

She let out a pathetic whine, folding in on herself even tighter. Her voice came out muffled then, but it was easy enough to catch the gist of what she was saying. “I hate you guys so much.”

[just-a-catcher-in-the-rye]

Primeiro dias em Brasil

A lot has happened so I’m just going to tell you about the highlights. I left home on 18 July and when to Chicago to see my family of the United States and take a plane to Sao Paulo. Everything was fine except that my flight kept getting delayed until I finally had to rebook a flight from Sao Paulo to Chapeco. The thing that was nerve wrecking was that I had to get my boarding pass printed in Sao Paulo. I thought this would be no big deal because I was told that airport workers in Brazil would speak English. I think I found a total of four people who spoke English, and I talked to a lot of people. I was not prepared for the small differences in the Brazilian airport, so I walked around confused for a bit, but I figured it out with some basic Portuguese and strategic pointing.

I got to Chapeco and my family was waiting for me with a sign with my face on it. We went home (was a two-and-a-half-hour drive), and I was shown my room. They had a mat with my face printed out on it, a towel with my name in between an American and Brazilian flag. They had also gotten me a bunch of Brazilian sanitary stuff (toothpaste, lotion, deodorant, etc.). I took a shower and used my personalized towel. When I got out dinner was ready. My mamai had cooked an Italian dish (my family is Italian, so we eat more Italian food than Brazilian food) called sopa de leite. After that we watched tv and I went to bed.

The next day I woke up and organized my room. Then my papai picked us up and took my sister and I to his restaurant/café. I made my first two friends there (they are really my cousins, but I count it). I ate so many new foods for lunch! I tried Brazilian coffee and it was good but very strong. Their coffee is so strong that they drink it in tiny cups (picture to come) and it has as much kick in that little cup as a grande frappe at Starbucks. One of my cousins invited me to a birthday/housewarming party for her friend. Me, my sister, and cousins went shopping for a gift, and then went to the party. I met so many new friends at the party and the birthday girls house had a great view of the city skyline. Everyone was super interested in talking to me at the party. It was weird to be the center of attention, and I didn’t even mind it. I thought that I would be super nervous in Brazil, but I’m actually calmer here than was in the US. I ate so much good food at the party. I can’t remember the names of the food but I ate something shaped like a teardrop with chicken inside, a strawberry covered in some cream and chocolate, a soft fudge ball thing that’s traditional to Brazil, a sweet milk ball that I think was called dolce de leite (sweet milk), and an amazing “soda” made out of a fruit found only in the Amazon. I also learned a Brazilian tradition. When there is a party thrown for someone and they receive presents they have to guess what’s inside the packages, and if they get it wrong the sender of the present gets to paint on the receiver’s face (picture with birthday girl to come). They birthday girl told me to come by anytime and we could hang out and exchange language knowledge. After the party my sister and I went home and then went to a church dinner thing. The food was great!

The next day (Sunday), my family and I went on a six kilometer (about 3.7 miles) walk in the morning, and they showed me the two cities that I will live in. Then we walked to the supermarket and went shopping while papai got the car. We even got abacaxi (pineapple). Then we went to Grandma’s house where she, my uncle, and two cousins live. I tried a drink with herbs and hot water while I waited. The drink is special to southern Brazil and is always drank in a special cup. When the food was done cooking we all sat down and ate. They drink straight lemon juice in Brazil! We had that to drink with lunch, and they put packets of sugar by my drink, but I wanted to be like everyone else, so I didn’t use the sugar. There was so much food and I tried everything and liked it, but everybody kept offering me more food! Later we went to a farm where the friends of my mamai and papai live and ate snacks. When we got home my mamai cooked more food. After dinner I helped my mamai with English and she helped me with Portuguese.

Monday morning my mamai, sister, and I went to the gym of the lady who lives on the farm. In this gym each person had their own personal trainer. Luckily, my sister and I were able to stay together. Our trainer went on his own exchange in high school to the US. Everyone at the gym wanted to talk to me, and I was just trying to breath haha. Another weird thing about that gym was that you don’t stretch on your own. Your personal trainer stretches you. Super weird! Of course, they are Brazilian, so the same boundaries don’t apply (i.e. inner thighs, hips, butt, etc.). I was pretty calm about the whole thing. Then he has me get off the ground and sit on a cube chair and massages my back, neck, arms, and shoulders. This is the point in the conversation where he chooses to ask me if I’m comfortable with the whole Brazilian touchy thing. At this point I’m just relieved that I’m not having my legs stretched apart by a total stranger while he asks me about Illinois is what I was thinking. That’s not what I said though. I just said that I’m getting used to it. After the gym we go home, and I eat breakfast and shower and then our papai picks my sister and I up to go to his restaurant/café. We wait there for Amanda’s friends to show up and then we all go get acai. I tried to order my own, but I was too confused, so my sister ordered one for me. After we finished, we went to the park and walked around for a while, and then we parted ways. When we got home my mamai cooked seeds from a tree that she said was extinct. Her English isn’t good, so I don’t know if that is what she actually meant, but my sister speaks really good English and didn’t correct her. In the evening I went to the supermarket with my mamai, sister, and grandma. I like my grandma, but I don’t understand anything she says, so I just smile and nod.

*Side notes*

·         My family is Italian, so they are stricter about being on time than other people in Brazil

·         We eat mostly Italian food

·         My district is super strict about not going to parties (bummer)

·         School starts on the 29th

·         It is considered unclean to not wear shoes in the house

·         I’m going to my first Rotary meeting today

·         I only have to go to that weird gym one more time and then we’re switching gyms (don’t know why)

·         I don’t know what is happening or where I’m going 98% of the time. I just follow my sister

·         I feel like I get looked at/leered at a lot more here

·         I’ve learned some more Portuguese

·         Since I came to Brazil super early I get to meet my second host sister who will be in Belgium when I live at her house

·         My mamai is a dentist and I want her to like me, so I’ve started flossing

·         A guy that goes to the church of my family and the weird gym tried to talk to me Monday at the gym but he speaks absolutely no English, and I speak barely any Portuguese so we had no idea what the other was saying so we gave up, but for today he learned how to say “hi”, “you look beautiful today”, and “good job” in English haha

·         Fruit is super big here

·         Lastly, I am never eating another avocado without honey! Seriously guys, try it!

toothpaste my mamai got for me. It’s yellow and tastes like tuttie-fruttie gum

Sao Paulo

Sao Paulo

Joacaba (view from apartment roof)

Seeds from a possibly extinct tree

The sign they were holding at the airport

A mat they had printed out in my room

Chicken hearts. I’ve eaten them every day for lunch. I just found out what they are today

At the farm

Those are mountains in the back!

Herb drink in southern Brazil

My family and I at Chapeco 

Me trying to explain to another outbound to Brazil what it’s like to be here. She leaves 4 August!

[saiikavon]

princessmuk replied to your post “I’m bored and I want to write klance. Anyone got prompts?”

Coffee shop auuuu

Of course!

I had an idea for a magic coffee shop that I was excited about, so this kind of fits in with my last prompt, too! Added this on AO3 as well, and of course, if you like my work, please consider clicking the ko-fi button on my page. Hope you enjoy!

               It’s no small feat that Elixir of Life is as popular as it is, given that it’s a coffee shop in a small college town filled with college students that practically subsist on the stuff. It’s not location, though it is conveniently situated near the campus bus stop; but so are the locations of the two (two, because corporations are slowly devouring the country whole) Starbucks on either side of the same street. It’s not price, though that doesn’t hurt; the shop is run by fellow college students who understand the need for cheap, but still relatively good coffee—and it is pretty good coffee, but that’s not Elixir’s secret to success, either.

               It’s the magic, and the baristas who work it so expertly into every cup.

               Places like Starbucks have tried, of course, to integrate magic into their brews, when the craft became more common in everyday use, but manufactured spells always went a little stale, and never did well in places where homegrown comforts were needed. All of their spell boosts are standardized, put up on the menu along with whatever fancy-flavored frapp is in season at the moment. Elixir’s spells are custom to each order, able to cover whatever the person might need in the moment, though they are careful not to dole out any spells that might have gotten them in trouble with the university.

               The one downside to the shop is that its popularity does tend to drive away anyone who isn’t fond of crowds. Normally, Keith would have avoided such a place like the plague, but their coffee is really, really good.

               It has nothing to do with the cute barista with the messy brown locks and the roguish smile and the blue eyes that make him want to recite sappy poetry on the spot.

               Lance is the favorite of most regulars, thanks in no small part to his charm and good nature, though those qualities are just reflections of the main reason people flock to his register: his particular set of magical skills. Every barista at Elixir has their specialty—everything from boosts to health or strength for customers, to magical flavor enhancements to the coffee itself. Keith’s favorite is the specialty of another boy named Hunk, a brand of magic he can’t place that makes his coffee the perfect kind of warm that sinks right down to his soul. Lance, though, his gift is for love magic.

               On anyone else, Keith might have considered the use of love magic manipulative, but Lance always turns away anyone asking him to make their crush fall in love with them, or to make a partner forgive them for a fight. Keith once heard him reminding one such person that love is a natural force, like the elements, and that like any elemental magic, love magic should be used in alignment with the element and not to control it. Being somewhat gifted in fire magic, Keith understands this very well—disrespect your element, and it could very easily turn against you.

               That being the case, Lance usually helps people seek understanding of others’ feelings, sometimes their own. He sprinkles courage for those wanting to confess, puts in dashes of calm and insight for people wanting to resolve conflicts with their loved ones, and even helps those who have been rejected move on from the hurt.

               Lately, Keith has begun to wonder if Lance is somehow, subtly, unknowingly, working his love magic on Keith, because Keith thinks he might have a bit of a crush.

               It wouldn’t have been a problem had Keith just left things the way they were after their first meeting. He’d never been great with social cues, and had assumed that Lance’s tendency towards friendly teasing was actually him making fun of Keith (given that he had kind of been making fun of Keith’s hair, it wasn’t a totally inaccurate assumption). They’d snipped at each other for a few minutes before Keith stormed off with his coffee…which, as Keith’s first experience with Hunk’s delicious warming spell, was the reason he came back. He’d just resolved to do so when Lance wasn’t around.

               He hadn’t known Lance’s schedule (the fact that he knows it so well now is nothing short of embarrassing), so he hadn’t exactly succeeded in that endeavor. What resulted was an apology he hadn’t expected, and a conversation that had actually endeared him to Lance.

               “I can be a little much for some people,” Lance had said, “and I don’t always see that at first. Hunk had to set me straight after you left—but I seriously wasn’t trying to be rude. You’re cute and I was just trying to break the ice, you know?”

               Keith raised a brow. “By insulting my hair?”

               “Not really my best line,” Lance admitted. “Start over? Whatever you want, on me, as an apology.”

               Keith shifted, a little dumbstruck by the unexpected turn this had taken, and rubbed the back of his neck before replying. “I really liked whatever that first drink was that I had. There was some kind of…warming spell?”

               Lance beamed. “Oh, yeah! That’s Hunk’s specialty. He also does this really great sweetener, it’s not really magic, but—” He halted himself, blushing a bit before continuing, “You know what? I’ll stop talking and just get you your coffee.”

               He had left, Keith had gotten his coffee, and had been coming back nearly every day since. His attraction continues to grow.

               They share a brief conversation every so often, when Keith finds his way to Lance’s register, so it isn’t as though his attraction is based on just…watching. As the weeks go by and their short exchanges continue to pile up, Keith comes to learn that Lance utterly embodies his element in ways that are more than just romantic. He flirts and flatters, of course, but Keith also gets little tidbits about Lance’s family and friends, and hears the love in every word. Lance also genuinely cares about strangers, and is excited to share himself in a way that Keith wishes he could be, too. It doesn’t hurt that Keith associates him with the smell of coffee and the crispness of magic in the air.

               It takes Keith a while to open up as much as Lance has. He talks about his classes, shares embarrassing stories about his pseudo-brother/mentor (Takashi Shirogane is something of a campus hero, so Keith delights in shattering the cool, polished illusion as often as possible), but is reluctant to share much about himself as a person, much to Lance’s dismay.

               If Keith were to be honest with himself, he’d probably say he’s protecting himself from disappointment. If he starts really opening himself up to Lance, he might get his hopes up, thinking that there could be something between them. That Lance isn’t just talking to him because he’s friendly to everyone, that Keith is somehow special.

               “Maybe you are,” Shiro tells him. “Maybe he’s just afraid to cross a line because you’re hesitant.”

               It’s a fair point, but it’s hard to take a chance, when he’s so used to being cast aside, passed off as “someone else’s problem.” When he’s used to riding the line between craving intimacy in a relationship and wanting his space, until his partner gets tired of it and leaves. Or he ends it himself, before it can go that far downhill.

               With Lance, he’s too afraid to step forward or let go completely, so he rides a different line, one that probably isn’t much better. He talks to him, watches him, lets his heart flutter, but doesn’t give himself over. It’s cowardly, and it’s testing his patience. Sooner or later, he’s going to make a stupid decision, and he knows it.

               His stupid decision, much to his embarrassment, turns out to be confessing to Lance in the worst possible way.

               He has a severe case of tunnel vision one morning when he goes to Lance’s register. His mind is on magic, and he doesn’t remember important things, just knows as he opens his mouth that he needs this. That it’s probably better this way. Maybe it’s even more cowardly than what he’s already been doing, but he’s tired of waiting and watching and pining. He needs it to stop.

               “Will you make me a drink today?” he asks. “I need help to…get over someone.”

               Lance’s hand hovers over the register, eyes wide in surprise. No doubt he had been ready to ring Keith up for his usual, only to be completely floored by the change. It’s a long, awkward moment before he speaks, fumbling for a cup as he does.

               “Right, sure, uh…how…” He licks his lips. “I mean…I didn’t know you were���under…someone…”

               Keith wills his face not to turn pink. “I’ve been…trying to ignore it, but I can’t. So I need help to…process these feelings, I guess.”

               “Yeah, okay, I can do that.” Lance fumbles for a sharpie next, eyes still wide and still fixated on Keith, as though he’s watching a horrible car crash. “I just need a name.”

               Keith’s entire body goes suddenly very cold, and he swears his heart stops. “What?”

               “A name? I don’t know how to shape the spell without the name of the person. So who is it?”

               Of course. Keith had foolishly forgotten about that part; had forgotten the way Lance always comforted people over the rejection or the loss while scribbling the name down on the cup. Now, knowing this, he can either try to step back and be subjected to Lance’s questions, or he can just say it, and…face it all right now. Perhaps it will be easier. He doesn’t know.

               He does know that he’s never been one to turn back once he got started.

               He swallows, nervous, looking Lance in the eyes while his heart threatens to pound its way right out of his chest. “It’s, um…Lance,” he says. “Lance McClain.”

               Lance drops the sharpie.

               “What?”

               Keith is definitely burning bright red now, he can feel it. He lowers his voice and shuffles his feet, not daring to look at Lance anymore. “I wasn’t…really planning on telling you like this. Or at all, really. I just…” He sighs, and runs a shaking hand through his hair.

               “I’m not good at this, Lance.”

               There’s a moment of silence, and Keith looks up to see Lance watching him carefully, considering. When he meets Keith’s eyes, he bites his lip, looking as nervous as Keith feels. He wonders what it means, and opens his mouth to try and apologize, or explain, or…something, but Lance interrupts him.

               “I’m gonna make the drink,” he says, carefully. “I’ll give it to you if you join me on my break in a couple minutes and…and hear me out on something. If you really want to get over me, you can, but…but listen to what I want to say first?”

               He looks…soft, Keith realizes. There’s something in his eyes that makes Keith’s heart seize with a mixture of fear and hope. His voice is very quiet now, his tone anxious and uncertain.

               “I told you I’m not good at this, Lance,” he replies.

               “Please?”

               With a voice so gentle, with eyes so imploring, Keith just doesn’t have it in him to refuse.

               He’s in a daze as he walks away, going to sit at one of the tables outside to wait for Lance. He didn’t want to let himself hope, before, but the way Lance had spoken to him inside leaves no room for doubt in his mind. That wasn’t sympathy, or pity; Lance hadn’t been trying to apologize. He’d have let Keith just have the drink if that were the case.

               He feels the same. As much as he can, with as little as Keith offered. Still, Lance feels there’s something about him worth making an effort for, and that, as much as it still does scare Keith a little, also makes him feel…really good.

               He sits and thinks as he waits, a decision forming in his mind. None of this is how he wanted it to go, but it could still turn into something wonderful in the end, if he lets it. He’s tired of pining. He wants to let it.

               Lance comes out with the coffee, and he and Keith smile at each other shyly. Lance sits, skin flushed and looking flustered and excited in a way Keith’s never seen him before. It’s a side he likes, a side he wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

               He decides before Lance even speaks not to take the drink, but he listens to Lance anyway, letting himself grow more and more at ease as his hopes are totally confirmed.

[hunter-claringtonss-blog]

birthday adventures - huntbastian

WHO: Hunter Clarington + Sebastian Smythe

WHERE: Starting off at the Smythe residence and making their way around

WHEN: Feb. 14th

WHAT: Hunter shows up at Sebastian’s door to join him on what’s sure to be one interesting birthday adventure, as well as to give Sebastian his present.

NOTES: Not complete, but you get the idea

HUNTER

Hunter groaned softly as he pulled on his jacket over a t-shirt. He loved Sebastian dearly, but the thought of his day was leaving Hunter on edge. Valentine’s Day meant different things to many people, but Hunter knew good and well what it meant to his best friend. Problem was, he wasn’t willing to let Sebastian spend the entire day on his own getting into a world of trouble. With a small wrapped box in hand, Hunter started his trip to the Smythe household, uncertain how the other boy would even react to anything. The trip wasn’t much, but it gave Hunter some time to think about what exactly he wanted to say and that was something.

Arriving at the front of the house though, all of Hunter’s planned conversations went out of his head. Why he had even thought he could plan out their conversations was beyond him. This was Sebastian for goodness sake – wild and unpredictable when upset Sebastian. Hunter knocked on the door softly and began to tilt back and forth on his heels waiting for an answer.

SEBASTIAN

Hunter was a good friend, but he wasn’t great at catching hints that Sebastian would rather spend the day alone. At the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter all that much, but he was aware that he was going out of his way to make his friend regret showing up on his doorstep. The morning activity of hotboxing the bathroom during a long soak was reflected in his red-rimmed eyes and still unbuttoned shirt when he answered the door. His parents, who had disappeared to Columbus for the weekend, had left the obligatory gifts waiting in the living room for him to open on the day. But Sebastian had left them untouched, already knowing their contents (watch from his father, reminding him of his perpetual tardiness and half-hearted attempt at a gift from his mother with the purchase of a gift certificate to a restaurant he would never go to).

He swung the door open, giving Hunter a sort of exhausted look. The day was going to start like this already, huh? “Morning, Clarington. Get inside, it’s freezing.”

HUNTER

Greeted at the door by a very high Sebastian, Hunter just shook his head and stepped past his friend into the home. He didn’t expect Sebastian’s parents to be around and that suspicion was confirmed as he looked around and no parents in sight. He saw the still-wrapped gifts laying there and held out his own towards the boy. “Here, you can add this to the pile.” He didn’t expect Sebastian to open it or even look at it for more than a second. No, Hunter fully expected it to simply be thrown with the other two and forgotten until Sebastian finally found it a proper time to pick at the wrapping paper.

His arms wrapped around themselves then as Hunter closed his eyes and tried not to inhale too deeply. It was obvious what Sebastian had been doing that morning and even if he hadn’t told Hunter, he could have easily guessed. Not that he ever expected Sebastian to stop, but he had never been fond of it when Sebastian smoked. Something about the smell just didn’t do it for him, but this was Sebastian’s day. The boy was free to do as he wished.

“I figured we could go for coffee to start out.”

SEBASTIAN

A hand took the gift that was offered to him. In his head, he realized Hunter wasn’t expecting him to open the gift - and Sebastian wasn’t expecting to. But his fingers dug into the wrapping paper anyway, tearing it away to reveal the gift within it. The wallet fell into his hand, and the soft leather felt amazing against his hands. His index finger traced along his initials - S.R.S - and Sebastian felt his lips twitch upwards into a smile. Digging into his back pocket, Sebastian was already emptying and tossing his old wallet over his shoulder.

Sebastian slipped it back into his pocket, then smiled a little wider. “Thanks.” He said simply, but there wasn’t much he needed to say. The look he gave Hunter was enough - even with red eyes, they shone slightly. And god, coffee. Suddenly coffee was all he wanted in the world. Moving to button up his shirt, he was already grabbing his coat.

“Coffee. Yes. And crumb cake. You can drive, right?”

HUNTER

“And the munchies of one Sebastian Smythe appear.”

Hunter chuckled softly as he reached out and brushed his hand against Sebastian’s. “You’re welcome, Smythe. Your old one was looking a little less than perfect.” That was all that needed to be said about the gift as far as Hunter was concerned. He had gotten something practical and Sebastian seemed pleased with the thought. “Yes, unlike your very high self, some of us can drive.” Glancing back at him, Hunter flashed Sebastian a smile to let the boy know that he was teasing. Sure he wished that there was a better way for Sebastian to deal with his emotions, but this was what he was given so this is what he would work with. Besides, it wasn’t that terrible to look at once Hunter looked past Sebastian’s red eyes that were all bright and eager now.

Leading him outside, Hunter opened the passenger door to his car for Sebastian then made his way over to the driver’s side. “Where did your parents go off to?” It was probably a touchy subject, but at least knowing there they were would give Hunter a better idea when he needed to get Sebastian back and how much he needed to clean the boy up.

SEBASTIAN

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but a smile still was set on his face. It wasn’t munchies, he told himself, he just hadn’t had his breakfast yet. Normally he would have binged on something easy in his kitchen, but the offer for coffee and pastries was much more enticing. Sebastian realized that his hand was being touched a little late, but his senses lit up at the physical content. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm them down. It was just the drugs, and he casually slipped his hands into his pocket, as if feeling out the wallet in his pocket. He huffed a laugh at Hunter’s joke, following him out the door.

Seb slipped into the car, closing the door behind him. His lip quirked from a smile to a bit of a scowl when his parents were brought up, then quickly went neutral again. “Some sort of fundraiser event from the governor.” Sebastian shrugged. “They’re gone until Sunday night.”

HUNTER

“Alright, then it looks like I get you all day. Lucky me.”

It wasn’t hard to realize that it would be upsetting for anyone for their parents to just leave on the one day of the year that was theirs, but Hunter figured it was so much more when it came to Sebastian. He liked Mr. and Mrs. Smythe well enough – they had never given him a solid reason to hate them at least – but he didn’t like the way Sebastian’s mood always seemed to drop whenever they were mentioned. Perhaps it was simply because he could relate to the feeling of being forgotten or unappreciated by a parent. Either way, Hunter was even more determined to make sure that Sebastian enjoyed his day despite the boy not wanting to acknowledge it as his birthday.

The drive wasn’t far and soon enough Hunter was pulling into the parking lot of a small coffee shop. It wasn’t the Lima Bean, but he liked it well enough. Besides, going to the Lima Bean meant risking the chance that they would see someone they knew. Even worse, it was chancing that they saw someone who knew it was Sebastian’s birthday and would insist on exchanging pleasantries with the boy. So instead, they were going to spend the morning at a place very few of their friends went and the two that Hunter knew about were in school – little risk of seeing them here. “Alright Smythe, what can I get you? Crumb cake and what kind of coffee?”

SEBASTIAN

Driving felt like floating, which Sebastian liked. He wasn’t idiotic enough to drive while high, but Sebastian liked being in the passenger seat. He had spent a lot of time in cars as a child, and there was something calming about watching the world go by through a window. He yawned as they drove, humming along to whatever song was playing on the radio. He was almost disappointed when the car pulled into the parking lot of the local coffee shop - far enough away that no Warblers would be walking in unannounced. Sebastian glanced over at Hunter almost appreciatively for that fact.

He got out, of the car, already setting course for the one thing he wanted right now - coffee. He paused for a moment when Hunter asked what he wanted, the thought having not occurred to him. Normally he’d have it black, with a touch of alcohol. But he wanted something substantial, something sweet. “Mocha Frappacino, triple shot of espresso.” Go big, or go home.

HUNTER

A soft chuckle left Hunter’s lips as he heard the other boy’s order. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that Sebastian was craving something a little sweeter that morning. Getting out of the car, Hunter shook his head towards the other boy. “Alright, a mocha frappacino with a triple shot of espresso it is. Just, if you die, I’m not carrying your body back home. I’ll just leave it here for anyone else to take care of.” His smile a little more mischievous as he held open the door of the coffee shop for Sebastian. “I can take you to the Lima Bean if you want, but it seemed…safer here, if that makes sense?” Their friends should be in class, but seeing as they should as well, Hunter didn’t exactly trust that it was safe to assume they wouldn’t run into anyone else all day.

Once he got up to the counter, looking at the pastry case pulled a growl out of Hunter’s stomach. He had yet to eat that morning and staring at all the baked goods as well as the menu of options was reminding him of that. “Can I get one of your crumble cakes, a mocha frappe with three extra shots of espresso and then can I get a large black coffee and one of those everything bagels with butter?” A bagel wasn’t exactly a proper breakfast, but it was something on his stomach before the next adventure and that would be good enough. Besides, he could always con Sebastian into stopping for lunch eventually.

SEBASTIAN

“There are worse ways of dying than caffeine overdose.” Sebastian responded matter-of-factly. There were certainly better ways, he mused to himself, but he could think of far worse things. And the joke didn’t strike hard - Sebastian knew that Hunter wouldn’t leave his body to the wolves, so to speak. He might be one of the few people who actually cared if Sebastian disappeared. It struck him as odd, that Hunter actually cared, especially enough to go out of his way to spend this day with him. Sebastian followed him inside, nodding along with the reasoning. “Makes sense.”

Seb’s body was buzzing, waiting for his coffee to be delivered, as well as a big hunk of crumb cake, wrapped in greasy wax paper. French pastries were his weakness, but the crumb cake was one of the few exceptions to his rule.

HUNTER

When he was handed the small crumb cake, Hunter handed it right over to Sebastian, unsure how he could actually stand that thing. While pie was his weakness and Hunter certainly had a healthy sweet tooth, crumb cake had never been something he enjoyed. If Sebastian wanted it though, that was fine, he would get it. When he was handed his own coffee, Hunter smiled at the warm against his hands, followed by the chill of Sebastian’s blended drink. “Here you are, Smythe. Here’s your caffeine and sugar overload in a cup.” He was glad to be rid of the cold drink, taking another hold onto his own so he could go to the small table and add some sugar to it.

A quick look around the small shop showed Hunter that they were pretty clear that morning, though he assumed that was because other people were at work or in school. “Get us a table. I’m going to fix my coffee and then I’ll join you.” As he was adding sugar packets – two – to his drink, the girl at the front counter announced that his toasted bagel was ready. Hunter grabbed the small plate then made his way over to Sebastian, smiling slightly before sitting down.

“How’s your cake?”

SEBASTIAN

The cake was gone by the time Hunter sat down at the table. Sebastian lazily was pressing his finger against the wax paper, letting them stick to his thumb before bringing it up to his lips to devour every last crumb. He smiled almost guiltily when Hunter asked about it, but looked at the drink with a pleasant delight that normally didn’t cross his face while sober. The weed had mellowed him out, but made him sleepy and relaxed. A jumpstart to his system was exactly what he needed, and the icy slush of sweetness and caffeine would get him started.

“Thanks.” He intoned, sipping at it as soon as it settled on the table in front of him. “Cake was good. This’ll be better.” He insisted, then glanced with almost disdain at Hunter’s choice in breakfast. “Really, Clarington? A bagel? You know, there’s nothing worse than a bagel in the Midwest. They’re all made in factories and frozen. There’s no passion in it, you know?”

HUNTER

Hunter glanced down at his bagel then looked up at Sebastian with a feigned insulted look. “I’ll have you know this bagel will hold me over for a good while before we actually get lunch. Besides, I like bagels. They’re simple and easy to eat quickly, but they hold me over for enough time to go about my day.” It was probably very child-like, but Hunter then stuck his tongue out at the other boy before taking a bit into his bagel. It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but Hunter wasn’t going to admit that, not to Sebastian at least. He would never hear the end of it.

Once his bagel was halfway gone, Hunter began to just sip his coffee, enjoying the warmth going down his throat. He didn’t understand how Sebastian was able to stand it at the boy drank his sugary mess, but it was Sebastian after all. “And there’s so much passion in that, right Seb?” He gestured towards Sebastian’s drink before smirking slightly. Sebastian’s relationship with weed may have been one that Hunter didn’t entirely approve of, but it was amusing to see how calm and almost dopey it made his best friend.

“I need some energy, Smythe. I expect that I’ll be running around with you a lot today and I want to keep my energy up.”

SEBASTIAN

“They’re boring. This is not a day for boring, Clarington.” Sebastian gestured with an accusing finger. It felt short, though, when some of the whipped cream from his drink dribbled onto that accusatory finger, and Seb raised it to his lips to lick off quickly. “This is a day for shit that you wouldn’t do on any other normal day.” Which was, at least, sort of true. Sebastian could come up with an excuse to do outlandish things, but his birthday was a particular day. Sebastian wanted to forget about the world on his birthday, and if that meant diving head first into drugs and sex even more so than he normally would, so be it.

Sebastian sucked down the last of his drink, then smirked. “Sugar, passion. Same thing, right?” He stood up, going to toss out his drink and glancing back at Hunter. “Speaking of which, we should be going to our first stop for the day.” He paused, smile growing across his face. “How opposed are you, really, to trespassing?”

HUNTER

“You should know by now that I’m a boring person, Smythe. Today doesn’t really change that. I acted out enough simply by joining you on this little journey.” Hunter smirked slightly himself, amused by Sebastian’s antics. A bagel was reliable and delicious - at least this one way - and he was nothing if not practical, unlike his friend.

When asked about trespassing though, Hunter’s expression grew a little more serious. Surely Sebastian didn’t actually plan to break laws throughout the day? Staring at him longer made it obvious though that Hunter was hoping for too much. Sebastian obviously did have quite a day planned for them both. Finally a smile came to Hunter’s lips as he shook his head. “Alright Smythe, I suppose I’m not completely opposed to trespassing so long as we don’t actually get arrested in the process. What did you have in mind?”