#we made plans last Thursday‚ Monday and Today and he's had to cancel all of them

[mwydyn]

My friend cancelled today and said he was free tomorrow or Friday and when I said I have plans tomorrow but can do Friday he was like hmm tomorrow is better

[vividwritinglove]

next door X - a Pierre Gasly series

hey babes - sorry that it took me so long to post another part of this story. but here it is! Enjoy! ♥️

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pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: language, SMUT (minors dni)

word count: 4.2k

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Monday - the start into the Christmas week.

And there were many festivities coming up for Pierre and you, so that you could hardly see each other. On Tuesday Pierre would already left for Faenza to attend the annual Christmas party of Alpha Tauri. So he would be back in Milan by Wednesday, but at that day there was your Christmas dinner at work. On Friday, was already Christmas Eve and Pierre's flight would be in the morning to his parents in Rouen. You only had today or Thursday evening to spend with each other.

You came home from work in the early evening and went straight to the shower. Before Christmas it was especially stressful at work and you needed a cold shower to come down. Pierre and you didn't made plans for today yet. You had only exchanged messages this morning at work, but nothing more.

It is important to both of you, that everyone has their space and time for themselves. This would also strengthen the trust of your still very young relationship.

Relationship. That sounded so weird to you. After more than one and a half years you had a boyfriend again. A younger one, who is also very attractive and a known racing driver. When you think about it like that, it just sounded totally unreal.

Meanwhile you sat on your couch and made yourself comfortable with a glass of wine. Your cell phone display lit up and you began to hope that it was Pierre after all. Wrong: it was the group chat with your 3 best friends. They asked for a wine evening via Zoom. Since you didn't have plans anyway, already opened a bottle of white wine and actually canceled meetings with them far too often, you accepted the invitation. You set up your laptop on your dining table and made yourself comfortable in one of the lounge chairs.

"Oh my God!" your friends are squeaking in chorus as you join the Zoom meeting.

"The queen graces us."

You toasted to your girlfriends with your wine glass and patted yourself on the back.

"How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"I'm doing great - going to Milan was the best decision in my life. I love my new job, I'm having an incredible amount of fun, the city is beautiful, I live in this unbelievably amazing apartment..." you gushed and your friends were listening spellbound.

"And what about the neighbor?" the friend, you spoke to on the phone just last week, interrupts you.

"Wait a minute, what neighbor?" the other one asked, looking at you through the screen with wide eyes. You rolled your eyes and took a big sip from your wine glass. Sooner or later they would find out and preferably they should hear it from you.

"Tell me who is this ominous neighbor?!"

"His name is Pierre Gasly and he is a French racing driver in Formula 1." your friend took the answer away from you.

You leaned back in your chair, she should tell first what she had found out about Pierre.

"Look at him!" she said, holding up a photo of Pierre on her phone into her laptop camera, "Unbelievable, isn’t he?".

"Wow, that's what I call a handsome man. But he's younger than you, right?"

"He's 26! 26!!!" again your friend answered for you.

"Can you shut up and let Y/N talk?"

You were very amused by the whole situation. It felt like you have never left Munich. Calming down, you raised your hands and leaned forward to get closer to the laptop. Your friends continued to look at you with big eyes, waiting for you to speak.

"Yes, he's younger and really attractive." you smiled to yourself, making your friends squirm.

"So?"

"So what?" you asked innocently, taking another sip from your wine glass.

"Why are we talking about this hot and young neighbor? There's something you're not telling us..."

Again you just grinned and stroked the back of your neck with one hand, "What can I say...I guess I am not single anymore."

"I knew it! But no, there's nothing going on between the two of you!" your friend almost shouted upset and imitated you. The other two were also kinda shocked at first, however they were happy for you.

"Tell us everything. What's he like?"

"He really has a great character and his heart is in the right place. We used the last 2 weeks intensively to get to know each other better and since a few days we decided to date."

"And how is the sex?"

"You don't ask that..."

"I couldn't give you an answer anyway." you smiled at your friend's curiosity.

"Wait. What? You actually bought a pig in a poke?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, we've only had oral sex so far."

You had no problem talking openly with your girlfriends about your sex life. Ever since you were teenagers, you talked about these topics and even years later you were still giving each other advice or were talking about certain intimate stories and experiences.

"Sorry if I'm being so forward..."

"That's new!" you laughed.

"We've known each other for so long and if he wasn't good in bed, you would never have said yes to be in a relationship with him."

You pressed your lips hard together and automatically thought back to how incredibly well he ate you out and fingered you. Sex in a relationship is incredibly important to you and if the chemistry in the bedroom wasn't right, the relationship would be doomed to fail in your opinion.

Your friend indicated an ever-widening gap with her index fingers, grinning mischievously.

"Forget it! I'm not going to tell you how big his dick is!" you laughed as well.

"Oh, come on." she said disappointedly, "Is it at least a boyfriend dick?".

You smirked at that term, "You have no idea.".

Just as your friends were about to ask you more about Pierre and his sexual skills, there's a knock on your door.

"Is that the sexy neighbor?”

"You mean her boyfriend!"

"Open the door. I want to see him!"

"Oh my god, you guys. Calm down..."

You got up from your seat, "Behave yourselves and don't be too awkward, will you?".

As you left the table to go to your front door, you heard getting huffy comments about your statement.

You opened the door and a gasping out of breath Pierre stands before you.

"Ma belle!" he greeted you joyfully and took your face in his hands to kiss you. In the background you two heard increasing "Awww”‘s.

Pierre interrupted the kiss and looked confused in the direction of your laptop.

"I'm having a spontaneous, virtual wine night with my girls." you explained in a near whisper and Pierre nodded in understanding, "Then maybe I should say hello...".

Without you prompting him, he walked up to the laptop and propped himself up on the tabletop, "Bonjour, ladies!".

He smiled mischievously at the camera and you saw the effect he had on your friends after just a few seconds. They were fascinated by him.

"I'm sorry to crash your wine date. However, I need my girlfriend's expertise urgently."

Your friends could barely get their words out and stammered something to themselves.

"I hope to see you in real life soon. Have a nice evening." smiled Pierre and slowly closed your laptop.

"I'll call you!" you shouted before he closed the laptop completely.

"I guess, I'm not supposed to know what you were talking about?" he asked as he turned back to you.

"Better not..." you whispered against his lips and kissed him passionately in response. After a few moments you detached yourself from him. Only now you noticed that there sweat was on his forehead.

"Why are you so sweaty?"

"Oh!" he said and jogged casually back to your front door, "I have something to show you!".

Skeptically, you followed him. You couldn't place his exuberant joy. Arriving at the door, you saw what was already waiting for you in the hallway: piles of boxes.

"Pierre... what's this?"

"Christmas decorations!" he said proudly, standing right next to the boxes.

"Oh my god!" you gasped in shock. You weren't in the mood for that at all.

"I want to spice up my apartment a little for the holidays and since I already have the world's best interior designer as my girlfriend, I should take advantage of it."

"You're effectively not here as of tomorrow. There's no point in decorating for Christmas."

"Exactly, the only chance left is today!"

Pierre couldn't be dissuaded from his plan, so you helped him carrying the boxes into his apartment.

Half an hour later, you had roughly inspected the contents of the boxes and were putting together a rough concept with the existing decorations in your head.

Pierre, on the other hand, was setting up a small, artificial Christmas tree in the corner of his living room. He was clearly enjoying it and humming Christmas carols to himself. You shook your head with a smile and began to unpack the first decorations out of the boxes. It was still a mystery to you how anyone could love Christmas that much. However, his anticipation was very contagious and so it was easy for you to decorate Pierre's apartment for Christmas.

Although you would call yourself the Grinch, you'll turned Pierre's living area into a cozy winter wonderland. Not too tacky, but still Christmasy enough. Pierre is thrilled and stands in the living room with both hands on his hips to look at everything.

"You really have talent! Ever thought of doing your own business?"

You laughed as you put the leftover decorations back into the boxes, "Too much paperwork!".

Pierre turned to you and helped you pack. In a few minutes, everything was stowed and the boxes were put away in his storage closet. Satisfied, you look at each other. "Good teamwork!" said Pierre with a smile and pulled you closer to him, into a tight hug.

Pleasurably you breathed in his scent and wrapped your arms around his neck. His presence just did you good.

"Thank you." purred Pierre into the crook of your neck and then gave you a loving kiss on the forehead. You looked up to him, into his wonderful blue eyes. You were hopelessly addicted to this man. Pierre puts his forehead against yours, your noses touched. You closed your eyes and you felt his breath on your Cupid’s bow. You two stayed in this position for a few seconds, enjoying the intimacy. Then his lips gently rested on yours. Only too gladly you intensified the kiss and open your mouth. Pierre immediately took this chance and let his tongue slip into your mouth.

After a few minutes, you break off your kiss. Your faces are still close to each other. He puts his hands on your hips to keep you close to him.

"I have to get up very early tomorrow." he sighs against your lips.

"I know..." you whisper disappointedly.

"I would love to take you with me."

"Next time."

Pierre smiled at the thought of taking you to Alpha Tauri's next official event.

"See you on Thursday night?" you asked as Pierre walked you to your apartment door.

"Absolutely!" Pierre agreed immediately and you two kissed goodbye again, "Bonne nuit, ma belle.".

~

The time without Pierre passed by slower than expected. In the last 2 weeks you saw each other every day, it almost seemed like you were in rehab now. How should you get through the holidays? You are almost embarrassed by your thoughts. Never before have you felt so dependent on the affection and touch of a single man.

Pierre sent you some photos of his stay in Faenza. Among other things, photos and selfies of himself in a suit. He is so insanely attractive, that it was almost outrageous.

A day later you returned the favor and sent him photos of you in a festive dress, elegant but still sexy. Pierre showered you with compliments. He would love to be with you and rip the dress off your body. He couldn't wait to see you on Thursday.

It was already afternoon as you start preparing for your dinner together. For the love of Pierre you had also decorated your apartment a little for Christmas, very discreetly though.

You are excited. You couldn't even explain why. You are just happy to see him again and spend time with him.

You quickly set the table while the food simmers on the stove and in the oven.

Afterwards you freshened up and put on the new lingerie set with the suspenders and stockings that you bought a few days ago. It's supposed to be a surprise for Pierre, so at least he had something to unwrap. Over it you wore a knee-length black silk dress with spaghetti straps. You left your hair open with light curls and put on a scarlet-red lipstick.

As you lit the last candles, there was a soft knock on your door. Your heart beats faster and before you opened the door to Pierre, you checked yourself once more in the mirror, stroke your dress straight and fixed your hair.

With an enchanting smile, you greeted Pierre, whose eyes immediately widened at the sight of you. His mouth was slightly open with excitement and his eyes examined your body several times.

"Are those for me?" you broke the silence and pointed to the large bouquet of red baccarat roses.

Pierre shook his head slightly to wake up from his daydream of you, "Of course, ma belle!".

Gratefully, you took the bouquet and lead the way. On the way to your living area, you wiggled extra with your butt to get Pierre already a little heated. The whole days you were excited and today would have been the last chance for a common night in a longer time.

Your plan worked out. Pierre's gaze immediately wandered to your butt, which was perfectly displayed in the silk dress. His mouth went completely dry, he would have loved to just grab you and fuck you right on the dining table. He wants nothing more than to make love to you. The little teasing and oral sex were great, but he finally wanted to feel you completely.

After putting the flowers in a vase of water, you finally turned to Pierre.

"I can't remember ever getting such a great bouquet of flowers!" you gushed, putting your arms around his shoulders, "Thank you!".

"You look beautiful." sighs Pierre, running his fingers along your sides, over the soft fabric of your dress. His delicate touches and the French accent had you wet right away. How on earth were you going to get through this dinner.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" you asked Pierre almost impatiently, "By the way, the lipstick is kiss-proof!".

Pierre grinned and pressed a loving kiss on your red and full lips, "Too bad, I wouldn't mind a few marks...".

The sexual attraction between you was almost unbearable. Pierre's hands moved over your hips and pushed you against the edge of the table. He grabbed your thighs and set you down on the tabletop, spreading your legs to stand between them.

With your fingers, you undo the buttons of his sport jacket to run your hands over his torso. During this, you kiss intimately, almost as if you hadn't seen each other in weeks. Pierre's hands pull the silk fabric over your thighs and his fingers move to your inner thighs. Before he can run his hands over your lacy thong, you are startled apart by the oven's alarm clock.

"Dinner's ready," you gasped against his lips.

"I'd rather have dessert right now."

"I’ve put so much effort in it..." you pouted and Pierre can't help but to kiss your pouty lips again.

You let yourself slide off the tabletop and brushed against his hard crotch as you passed by. Pierre moaned slightly under your touch. You felt like playing today. It should be fine with him.

While you prepared the dishes, Pierre admired your small but fine Christmas decoration. He knew that you did it especially for him. He grinned and then spotted a new book display on the large shelf with the books and many picture frames.

A double-page spread of his Monza victory smiled at him. He couldn't help but grin at his photos, "I look pretty good on your shelf!".

"Except for the blonde hair."

"What do you have against the blonde hair?! I thought it looked awesome on me."

Pierre was starting to sound a little appalled by your statement.

"I’m just into brunettes." you laughed placatingly and gestured him to come to the table.

"Good, me too." he said mischievously, winking at you.

Pierre seemed to enjoy the food, even asking for a second serving. You chatted animatedly about the upcoming Christmas with the Gasly family. He loved his many nieces and nephews, but after a few days, the constant exposure to the kids was a bit too much for him.

"Do you have plans now for the up coming days?" he asked you.

"I'm going to stay here. I have a little catching up to do on my Formula 1 knowledge."

Even though he didn't liked to hear that you will be alone for the next few days, he smiled anyway since you are very interested in his passion and his life. Once again you spend a nice evening with many conversations.

"Will you excuse me?" you asked, after emptying your glass of white wine.

"Of course." he answered immediately.

You went to the bathroom and behind the door hung the short satin coat you had bought to match the lingerie set. A little bit of courage you had taken on. You were desperate to impress Pierre. God, it almost felt like you were about to have your first time. Almost timidly, you peeled the dress off your body and let it fall to the floor. You looked at yourself in the mirror, the lingerie set off your body perfectly and the suspenders even made you feel a little sinful.

With this newfound confidence, you put on your coat and tied it loosely so that Pierre could see at first glance what awaited him. Before going back to the living area, you prepared the bedroom by lighting some scented candles and dimming the light.

On tiptoes you went back to Pierre in the living room. He had made himself comfortable on your sofa. He was sitting with his back to you, so he didn't saw you approaching. In the meantime, he had taken off his jacket and was wearing only a dark, tight-fitting T-shirt. Gently you put your hands on his muscular shoulders and massaged him lightly.

Pierre looked up, directly into your angelic face. Your hands now moved over his chest muscles to his abs. Pierre relaxed and puts his head in his neck and the noticed that you have changed your clothes. He immediately turned towards you and can hardly hide his amazement.

A little shy you presented yourself and played with the bow of the silk coat.

"I thought we'd skip dessert and instead you'd unwrap your Christmas present in the bedroom."

"Definitely!" exclaimed Pierre euphorically, jumping over the back of your sofa. You didn't expected such a tumultuous reaction and laughed as he lifted you up and carried you into the bedroom.

Greedily you wrapped your legs around his middle and Pierre placed his hands under your butt. As you enter your bedroom, you are both surrounded by a sensual atmosphere. Pierre laid you down on the bed. Sexy, you placed yourself on it and watched Pierre slipping his t-shirt over his head.

This man is your kryptonite. Aroused at the sight of his naked upper body, you opened your legs. Seeing you in that sexy lingerie was just too much for Pierre. Greedily he licked his lips and now opened his belt. The sexual attraction between you two was so thick, you could’ve cut it with a knife. Pierre stripped off his pants and adjusted his hard cock with one hand through his boxers.

Slowly but firmly, he approached you and climbed onto the bed. His dominant presence left you breathless. With nimble hand movements he opened the bow of your coat and can now admire you in full glory.

"So fucking beautiful." he murmured and kissed your belly button, which was just barely visible above the garter belt.

"This is the best Christmas present ever." he whispered against your skin and moved his mouth up to your breasts. Pleasurably you laid your head back in your pillow and enjoyed Pierre's caresses of your breasts.

"Don't you want to unpack further?" you asked curiously and also impatiently. Pierre's almost naked sight and his touches have already made you so wet.

Pierre straightened up again and looked at you intensely, "Just a little.".

He loosened the suspenders from your stockings to take off your thong, which he threw carelessly behind him and then puts the suspenders back on.

A bit irritated you looked at him. Pierre just grinned, lightly stroking the stockings and the lace of your suspenders, then diving in between your legs to kiss your inner thighs. You were about to burst and to show him how much and where you needed him, you grabbed his hair and directed him to your hot and wet core.

"So impatient." Pierre groaned and his breath against your core made you whimper. He complied with your request by putting his lips around your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You arched your back and moaned lustfully. Damn he was so good at this. Quickly he managed to bring you into ecstasy, your breathing was getting heavier and your moans louder. Pleasurably you closed your eyes and waited for an insane orgasm to rush over you. However, nothing came, simply nothing. Startled, you looked up, Pierre had detached himself from you and was now bent over you.

Gasping and full of expectation you looked at him. His eyes were so dark, hardly a single shade of blue could be seen. His gaze was animalistic and full of lust. The way he was looking at you like that, was driving you crazy.

"Pierre, I need you!" you whispered longingly to his lips, writhing under him. Your pleading was enough. He quickly stripped off his boxers, meanwhile you retrieved a condom from the top drawer of your nightstand and handed it to Pierre.

He deftly unwrapped it and slipped it over his hard cock. Again he bends down to you, this time to kiss you passionately. Eagerly you returned the kiss and put your hands on his neck. Pierre lined himself up in front of your entrance and slowly but firmly entered you.

You had to interrupt the kiss as you felt him completely inside you. Again you moaned and threw your head to the side lustfully as he stretched you out. Pierre now began to move and caressed your exposed neck with kisses.

You wanted more - You needed more. You wanted to feel him even more intensely. Therefore you embraced his center with your legs, so he could thrust into you even deeper. Your hands kept running along his broadly built shoulders. Quickly you found a rhythm that suited both of you and Pierre kept hitting your G-spot, making you claw your nails into his back.

He already knew how beautiful you sounded moaning, but this time it was on a different level. It was so sensual and him fucking you in sexy suspenders was pure satisfaction for him. You looked so beautiful and felt so perfect around him. Pierre could hardly believe his luck. He had imagined your first time to be great, but his expectations were exceeded. He couldn't help but look at you again and again. You were in a sexual delirium by now. Pierre's thrusts were getting harder and harder and that warm and beautiful feeling was spreading inside you. The last few weeks it had built up to this moment and finally it was time for the much longed release.

Pierre increased his speed once again. He also felt that you were getting tighter and tighter - your muscles closed tightly around him.

"Ma belle." he breathed and had to kiss you once more. Your bedroom was filled with your moans. Wonderful erotic sounds. Only a few more thrusts were missing for both of you to climax. Your thighs pressed even tighter around Pierre's middle and then it washed over you.

Out of full passion you almost screamed Pierre's name, which was the last bit for him to cum as well. Together you came down from your highs. Pierre laid on top of you exhausted and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Immediately your hand wanders into his hair and caressed him. Both of you were completely out of breath, enjoying the moment of togetherness. Pierre rolled over to the other side of the bed and looked at you smiling. He left an emptiness inside you, which you wanted to fill with a second round. You brushed a few strands of hair out of your face and bit your lower lip as you thought about how incredibly well Pierre had just fucked you. You were definitely hungry for more.

Pierre seemed to be able to read your mind, "Just give me a moment." he said, still a little out of breath. Grinning mischievously at him, you sat up. With a quick flick of your hands, you undo the clasp of your bra, toss it at him and lasciviously shook your hair.

"Fuck!" he murmured at the sight of you and licked his lips.

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taglist: @hungryhungarian @scotlynaurora @justthatgirlxox @hannahholland1811 @dr3lover

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

Dear Universe Gods, Go to Bed

Me and my mates went up island for four days two weeks ago today and the trip was great. It was raining the whole time but that didn’t really affect us too much. We had a wonderful time and life was chill and peaceful and nice. We should have known that this wouldn’t last. Life tends to dismantle our happiness and stability far more than necessary and it did just that after our trip ended. 

We have another overnight trip planned for next week on the mainland. We’re going to a fan expo and the plan was to get photos with an actor we love from Stranger Things. Alas, the man cancelled due to filming schedules. This was depressing, but we still have other things to do there and two of us are delusional enough to assume it’s because he’s filming season five of Stranger Things despite dying in the last season, so his cancellation seems reasonable. We could manage this loss. 

Then smaller inconveniences happened. One friend immediately burnt her thumb upon her return home from our trip. I nearly flooded my house because my toilet clogged when I got back. Days later, she broke her Converse. Another friend had an allergic reaction to tuna despite not being allergic to tuna and only peanuts. A couple days ago, a necklace I love broke at the chain and now I have to figure that out. This morning, the friend who was mildly poisoned by fish accidentally slammed her hand between a cart and a bin. I’m not disabled enough to be taken seriously as disabled. My rent went up and my credit card paid itself off and the combination of the two has left me with less than two hundred dollars in my main bank account. It took three years of living on my own but I will now be surviving paycheque to paycheque which is fucking disappointing.

But the biggest, worstest, fuckiest absolute inconvenience of all that happened last Thursday was the sudden resignation of our precious nurse practitioner. The woman who all three of us saw every two weeks, who went way over our scheduled time to ensure we were taken care of and heard, who listened to us and helped us. She was gone even though we had an appointment scheduled the coming Monday. That was cancelled and we have been in hellish limbo ever since. With that hitting us among the other inconveniences, we have been in a dreadful fragile state. We have been hit, yet again, with the curse that plagues our group and forces us to remember what suffering feels like regardless of the fact we rarely stop suffering. I was ranting to myself for half an hour after learning that my one healthcare professional who is worthy of her title was gone. I was punching my couch and yelling and getting choked up and pacing around. I couldn’t get ready for bed because I was so riled up. 

We’ve all tried to figure out why we are fated to be slammed over the head by life so often. Were we all dictators and murderers in a past life? Do past lives work like that? Is the universe straight up after us just because? Are we secretly evil? I’ve tried convincing myself I’m a terrible person, because horrible shit keeps happening, the same way I’ve tried convincing myself I was attracted to women, because that’s what people assumed when they saw me. I’m not, though. I’m not gay for women even though I often wear flannels and want a Subaru Outback. I’m not a terrible person either, I’m completely average. 

I’ve heard these misfortunes are supposed to make us stronger, humble, enlightened, grateful, in some way improved. I am not a better person because of this, any of this. Any of what’s happened recently and what’s happened over the course of my life has not made me better. I’m angry and bitter and jaded and tired and I don’t have time to help others because I can barely help myself. I don’t like my fellow humans any more now than I ever did. In fact, I despise them more than I ever did. I don’t have any more of an appreciation of my life now than all my yesterdays. I find it increasingly horrendous and unacceptable. 

All any of us have control over is consuming food. That’s what we drown our sorrows in. I have devoured cupcakes, cookies, ice cream, and timbits. Food is the only thing we can guarantee. It is the only consistent comfort. I had to watch the Barbie movie just to cry all my stress out because I was so overwhelmed and I lost track of how many cookies I added to my bowl of ice cream for I couldn’t see through the tears. You know how Oppenheimer quoted “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds”? Now I am become void, the destroyer of sweets. 

I’m gonna have to write a strongly worded letter to the head office of the universe because I am dissatisfied with the results of life and would like compensation because eating my feelings is bad for my health.

[deecitys]

blue, white, and a little bit of gold; z. chenle

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre/warnings: school au, friends to lovers, student!chenle, fluff, swearing, food

word count: 2.7k

a.n.: this is part of the nct secret santa collab hosted by @neoculturechristmas ! i’m writing for @candychanhee i hope u enjoy <33

masterlist

lowercase intended

--

MONDAY, DEC. 14

“you’re really going to leave me alone?” you frown. “here? with mrs. s? out of all the teachers?”

your best friend, jiwoo, places her hand on your shoulder empathetically. “she called you. i’m terrified of her. the discussion is over, y/n.”

she bows like a ballerina and proceeds to jump away from you down the hall. you roll your eyes and push the wooden door open, sighing. the empty home economics classroom smells like freshly baked muffins, except evil freshly baked muffins, just because this is mrs. s’s classroom.

you walk up to the one desk you could find, clear of fabric scraps and needles, and dump your heavy backpack on it. the noise echos; or maybe it’s just your hyperactive brain anticipating for a jumpscare. in mrs. s’s classroom, anything can happen… 

but just as you were about to call for the terrifying teacher, the door rattles open behind you and you let out a yelp, scrunching down. 

“hey y/n,” a slightly familiar voice calls. you slowly shift your gaze to find zhong chenle. 

you’ve known chenle ever since middle school (you might’ve had a crush on him back then…), and he was in your friend group at one point, but you two have never crossed paths in particular especially after he was announced as mvp for the school basketball team and became mega popular. he was nice though, as far as you knew, and it was a sense of relief that you weren’t going to be the only one in mrs. s’s room.

“haha, um, hi chenle,” you force a smile and hold the desk to get up. something shifts in the storage room of the class, and when you two turn your attention to the noise, mrs. s enters the scene. her leather buckled shoes clack on the floor as she approaches you and chenle. 

“hello, chenle,” mrs. s greets the smiling boy with ink-black hair, and proceeds to frown on you through her narrow glasses. “you should’ve told me you’re here.”

“sorry,” you utter, avoiding eye contact.  

she mumbles something about kids these days. “i called you two here because i want to ask for a favor.” 

while mrs. s shuffles through her desk, you glance at chenle with wide eyes, who shrugs back in question.

“i’m on duty for planning, and you two are the highest performing in my classes. a week left.” mrs. s hands a piece of paper, and chenle reaches out to grab it.

“december 18th, friday, gym, at 6 through 8:30 pm… the winter dance?” he reads. “we’re supposed to plan it?”

“plan it, manage it, whatever else it needs,” mrs. s explains while you panic trying to think of an excuse out. chenle just stands, dumbfounded. “10 percent raise of semester grade of whatever class if it goes successfully.”

10 percent? holy shit, this is your chance. your math grade!

“we’re doing it!” you blurt out loudly, inducing an emotion (slight surprise? indistinguishable.) out of mrs. s for the first time. 

“we are?” chenle questions, to which you blink inanimately . “oh… oh yeah, we are. leave it to us! we’re really trustworthy, and we have teamwork. we’re, we’re practically best friends. you can count on us.” 

mrs. s slowly nods in approval while you force a big grin, grabbing your backpack and pushing chenle towards the door. “we’ll start planning now, thank you, see you in class!”

you two rush out of the room. “dear god,” you sigh.

“you know what? i need that grade raise, my english grade is, uh, kinda questionable.” chenle sighs. 

“so is my math grade, i’m literally about to be disowned. meet tomorrow after school at the gym?” you ask, and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. with a strained grin, you turn right around and speed walk to the end of the hall. jiwoo appears, peeking behind the corner. 

“is that zhong chenle?” 

--

TUESDAY, DEC. 15

“so…” you hold on to the ends of your puffy jacket to make sure they aren’t blown away by the freezing winter wind. “where do we start?”

“we could look at the gym and, i don’t know, envision the scene. i got the keys. and budgets tomorrow,” chenle enunciates, which you give a positive shrug to. 

the door creaks open and you hurry in to turn on the lights. you’ve been in here plenty of times before, and you try to remember the setup last year, hoping you would be able to get some inspiration. it’s interrupted by a tingly feeling in your nose and a following sneeze.

“god, it’s freezing in here too,” you exclaim. “doesn’t it get even colder? we’ll need to have everything indoors.” 

“do you think they’ll let us sell winter themed popsicles?” chenle asks. you frown at his contradicting question. he’s wearing a simple crewneck sweatshirt unlike you prepared for antarctica.

“...a hot chocolate stand?” he negotiates, noticing your glare. 

“a hot chocolate stand it is,” you take your phone out to write a note, pausing halfway to point at the spot near the entrance. “we could have it right there, with the entry fee stand, so people can grab one as they come.” 

“and this can be the dance floor?” chenle is now suddenly standing in the middle of the room. you nod, writing down another bullet point. 

--

“so, how was it?” jiwoo asks on the phone. 

“it wasn’t that awkward, he’s still chatty, actually,” you describe, twiddling the blanket you have over your head. “we got a week’s notice which is so shitty, but we got to everything we had to do and we’re on track. he comes up with the wildest, most unrealistic ideas, though. can you imagine popsicles in a winter dance? it’s fucking freezing, i’m going to work a bit on decorations after school so he doesn’t mess with it…”

--

WEDNESDAY, DEC. 16

“what are you wearing?” chenle lets out high-pitched laughs. it’s after school the next day, and this time, you’ve prepared for the climate. 

“what?” you frown. “it’s cold in there. i need to survive.”

“you look like a penguin.”

“it’s only five layers.”

“whatever you say, best friend,” chenle does a fancy little bow to lead you into the gym. you huff but follow him anyway.

“today, we have to do all the budget stuff,” he takes a seat on the open bleacher to open his laptop, and you hesitantly take a seat a feet away. “i actually did some research and found all the places we need to contact, with all the costs and fees written and added一 here.” he turns the laptop your way and you lean towards the laptop (NOT HIM, THE LAPTOP!) slightly to take a look. a lot of work with numbers is done and you’re actually quite astonished by the organization and amount.

“practice got cancelled, and so like i had a lot of time lying around. i’ve contacted some places if we already made the decisions on the specifics so some are finalized, um, if that’s okay,” he explains. you continue to scan through the spreadsheet. the dj, catering, lights, they’re all done.

“wow, chenle,” that’s what you manage to say. “i’m glad i did something too.” you quickly dig up your sketchbook from your backpack and flip through it until you find the decoration sketches. you hand it over to him with fully stretched arms, keeping your distance. “they’re all at target, all the stuff i marked. so we can go get them whenever, if the budget, you know, allows it.” you hold down the strong urge to bite your nails through the long, dreadful silence. where did the chatty chenle go while you needed his chattiness the most?

“this is really cool,” he finally speaks. “and it fits our budget, so it’s perfect. i remember you being really good at art in middle school! guess you didn’t change.”

you flush (for no absolute reason!) and quickly take the drawing away, mumbling up a ‘thanks’. 

“uh, anyways, today all we have to do is contact the rest of the people on the list, and then we’ll buy the stuff tomorrow, sell last minutes tickets on thursday, and theeeen we’ll decorate and see how the dance goes on friday, right? since the school’s been advertising since, what, last week?” you speak quickly to change the subject. he doesn’t seem to notice and instead nods. 

--

“tomorrow, we’re driving to target to get all the decorations. hey, remember when i liked him in middle school?” you ask jiwoo. it’s after school and you’re at her house, doing homework. she looks up from her science assignment to give you a look.

“don’t tell me you’re starting to like him again,” she laughs.

“hey, what’s wrong with that?” you raise your voice slightly, then turn your attention back to your laptop, suddenly self-conscious. “i mean, not that i like him, anyway.”

“you know i can see right through you?” jiwoo doesn’t take her gaze off of you for the long period of silence that follows. you roll your eyes.

“fine, whatever, i may have the tiniest physical symptoms of liking him again or whatever,” you admit. jiwoo giggles, then scrunches closer to you.

“so, what do you like about him?” she asks enthusiastically.

“i mean… he has a nice smile, yeah, that,” you mumble.

“and?”

“i guess he’s funny, and nice, and actually kind of responsible, i don’t know, and his voice一” 

your description is interrupted by jiwoo’s screech.

“shouldn't have brought it up…” you sigh.

--

THURSDAY, DEC. 17

what have you gotten yourself into?

out of all the cars, you’re sitting at the front seat of ZHONG CHENLE’s car. he’s driving. CHENLE IS DRIVING. 

the familiar roads aren’t so familiar when you’re in such a peculiar situation. he drives nicely though. and there’s the radio on. and he’s humming. super nicely. that’s so attractive. there’s nothing particularly attractive about humming, but on chenle it is. SHUT UP Y/N! 

“do you sing?” you unconsciously ask.

“yeah, actually,” he answers. “my dad doesn’t like it, though, actually, so i don’t tell a lot of people. he just wants me to focus on basketball, because i don’t sing in a deep tone like the opera people, and he thinks if i don’t do that, it’s not manly enough, or whatever.”

the mood… you brought up the wrong topic, you think. “sounds like what jake would say,” you reply in a lighter note. “remember him? the super old school kid from 7th grade?”

“oh my god, YES,” chenle laughs, moving on to talk about him and middle school memories until you reach target. you quickly find the party decoration section and pick out the things. you’re on your last item when chenle taps your shoulder. he’s holding packages of golden sparkly streamers.

“i know the colors are blue and white, but imagine a little bit of gold. a little bit of sparkle, but no annoying glitter shit! what do you say?” he anticipates. 

“actually, pretty cool, yeah,” you say, and chenle pumps his arm before throwing the packages into the shopping basket. 

“i was about to just say no without listening after that one time you suggested we get popsicles, but good suggestion. love the improvement!” you half-joke. he immediately mocks you, which you laugh at.

the car is loaded up and now you’re on your way back. you two chat about the most random things, from taste in food to tv shows to traumatic but funny experiences, and you keep yawning. it’s been a long day.

chenle drives out of route, but you’re too tired to realize; the most you can do is keep up with the conversation. a blink later and you’re at the drive-thru of starbucks. “pick a drink, miss,” he rolls the window down when the car stops front of the menu.

“me?” you ask in surprise.

“yes, you.” chenle laughs. “you look so dead right now, it’s only 5 pm. i think we both need a caffeine boost for homework.”

“ooh, so thoughtful of you,” you dramatize.

 he rolls his eyes. “shut up, i’m paying.”

“caramel macchiato please, mr. zhong!”

you sit patiently while he orders and gets the drinks; a caramel macchiato for you and a café latte for himself. you sip the drink in now comfortable silence and bliss (who wouldn’t be happy with a free drink?) on the way back. 

“why didn’t we ever talk before?” chenle asks, breaking the silence.

“dunno,” you say. “just we didn’t have any reasons to, i guess,”

“remember when i told mrs. s we were practically best friends? maybe that wasn’t a lie.”

for once, you love mrs. s so much right now.

--

FRIDAY, DEC. 18 (D-DAY!)

with the help of chenle’s friends, decorations are up on time and students show up to the dance. everything goes by plan and people are thriving, except… jiwoo had a change of plans last minute. and you were going to ask her to help ask chenle out.

“i’m telling you, it’s the perfect chance,” over the phone, jiwoo’s voice sounds passionate and a little distorted. it’s a little hard to tune into with the background noise, even outside of the dance room alone. “once this is over, nothing happens, and winter break starts, you guys will end up like before. distance friends with zero interactions and zero chances. take the risk while you can, y/n!”

“but you aren’t here to help me!” you whine. “i’ve never done this before! i wasn’t prepared for this! i’m not the kind of person to be doing this!”

“and you’ll never be prepared anyway, so what’s the point of waiting?” jiwoo argues. “don’t be a pussy and go for it. if he likes you back, that’s cool, and if he doesn’t, you have nothing to worry about because you guys won’t have a reason to talk anymore. now, i have an angry mother to deal with, so i’m hanging up, peace out and tell me how it goes. love you, bye!” 

your urgent call of her name is interrupted by a long and loud beep. you sigh. 

as much as you hate to admit, she’s right. there isn’t any other excuse to keep talking to him. you check the time, and it’s almost 8; half an hour until the dance ends.

“fuck it,” you say to yourself, pushing the heavy door open and meeting the warm and noisy atmosphere. it’s not long until you find chenle chatting with the dj. you take a deep breath feets away from his back and decide to approach him that way. 

“chenle! chenle!” you whisper-yelled through the booming music. he turns around immediately, eyes wandering until he finds you. 

“y/n! y/n!” he whisper-yells back. 

“i need to tell you something important.” you take his arm and start to drag him towards the door out.

“you good? what’s up?” he asks. you shake your head, signaling it’s too loud in the gym, and point to the door, continuing to pull him. through your booming heartbeat you keep calm until you reach the cold outdoor air where you finally let go of chenle.

“so, um, hi,” you greet, to which chenle chuckles.

“hey.”

“the important thing is,” you take a deep breath in. “ithinkilikeyouandithinkweshouldgoout.” 

it takes a second for him to process your fast words. maybe you shouldn’t have confessed, you think. you internally scream, and this is the longest second of your LIFE.

“uhh, this isn’t fair,” chenle argues, and you’re stand there, dumbfounded. ?_? “i was going to ask you out! life is so unfair.”

you gasp. “you’re KIDDING.”

“no, i’m not. uh, so, like, i think yes. what am i saying… i’m saying that yes, we should go out.” chenle looks nervous. CHENLE LOOKS NERVOUS!

“i was NOT expecting that,” you say.

“well, i wasn’t either, on my end,” chenle laughs. 

“well,” you hold yourself back from screaming and jumping. “we should go back in, we’re the managers, y’know?” chenle nods, taking your hand to walk back into the gym. smooth.

“also, y/n, when i bought you starbucks, the intention was not to seduce you, just wanted to clarify. that was only like, four bucks. you’re worth more than four bucks, i swear.” chenle rants.

“glad to hear,” you roll your eyes but end up laughing anyway. 

there couldn’t have been a better winter dance.

[honey-makki]

No Other Shade of Blue

Characters: Oikawa Tooru X Fem!Reader Summary: Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.  Warnings: implied cheating Song: hoax- taylor swift Genre: angst Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: God I must hate being happy? All i know is angst, be gay, eat hot chip and lie. Anyways here’s this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Monday afternoon is you and Oikawa’s designated date time. The volleyball club doesn’t practice and there shouldn’t be any large assignments that either of you have to deal with that early in the week. Yet again, for the third week in a row, you are sitting alone at your favorite tucked away spot overlooking the ocean. Why did he cancel this week? They don’t have any practice matches coming up. We just finished midterms so homework shouldn’t be an issue. Sitting here, sipping at your now cold tea, you can’t figure out a reason and he didn’t provide you with one. You sit here for a while until you see Iwaizumi in the distance, unsure if he should approach. As one of your neighbors, he’s seen you head this way more than once. After watching you give him a kind smile and pat the spot next to you, he shuffles down the brick-ladden walkway, stumbling once or twice in the darkness. “Hey, Y/N. Oikawa seemed even bubblier than normal today, so I’m assuming you had a good date planned. How was it?” he asks casually.

The pained look on your face before you turn to look out at the deep blue of the ocean that’s almost completely concealed by the night sky, says all the words you didn’t. You both sit there for some time, taking in the hum of the city in the distance, waves slapping against the cliff and your heavy breathing. In. hold. Out. hold. Oikawa could be happy for plenty of reasons, or something could have come up after Iwaizumi saw him. He hasn’t given you a real reason to be worked up. Just keep breathing. You keep it together longer than you expected you would. Holding your tears, tensing your muscles to stop from shaking made your nerves burn after some time. Iwaizumi may not be your closest friend, but he does care about you as a person, and as his bestfriends girlfriend. He pulls you into a soft, comforting side hug and mumbles into the darkness “Y/N, I just want you to know that I don’t know of anything he's done that should make you cry like this. Maybe you should just talk to him about your concerns? I still can be here as a shoulder to cry on if you need it though.” You calm down after a few minutes, your body now no longer burning, its just ash. Leaving for school in the morning you are greeted by Oikawa at your door with your favorite breakfast food. Voice dripping with almost sickeningly sweet adoration, “Y/N-chan!! I’m so sorry for not being able to see you yesterday so I hope this food helps make it up to you! Maybe you can come to practice today and I’ll walk you home after some post practice serves?” You immediately take him up on the offer, any concerns leaving your head as he shows that he wants to see you. Yesterday was just a small scar on your heart. It’s there but it's just one and it’s so small, it shouldn't be a problem, right? The week flew by and you’ve been going to the Seijoh practices just so you can see Oikawa, even if he can't really talk to you. There are almost always a handful of people in here, changing out every day. Sometimes it's a pair hanging out and just talking while watching them practice, someone else's significant other or good friend. Every once in a while people studied in here, the slap of the ball hitting the ground providing a rhythmic beat to study to. Lately, there have been recurring randoms which isn’t the weirdest thing that's happened at practice, especially since Mad Dog is back, but the weird part is how much attention Oikawa pays them. It should be the other way around, women and men alike flocked to his charming but cocky attitude, paired with his good looks? People stared at him quite frequently, but him paying attention to others? Interesting. You stew on your thoughts for the rest of this practice and decide to bring something up to him if it continues later in the week. 

Thursday, they are there, but Oikawa doesn’t look at them a single time. He is looking at you so often that it’s affecting his play style. ‘Shittykawa’ and ‘Loserkawa’ echo throughout the gym ceaselessly. You know how much volleyball means to him, so if he's ignoring that for you, then he must love you more? You can’t even remember what those two girls look like, head full of thoughts about you and Oikawa. 

“Y/N!” Oikawa shouts into the stands as he starts gathering up the last of the volleyballs on the floor. You know that means he’s done for the day and the two of you can head home for the evening. Before he gets into the changing room you catch his hand pulling him close, and whisper into his neck, “Tooru, you seemed so distracted today at practice? Something on your mind?” Following it up with kisses from his neck to his lips. The slightest moan slips through his lips, before he can compose himself.

With a wink, he laughs and says, “Just thinking about the love of my life and what she would look like on her knees.” Before you can comprehend, he’s off, shouting that he's gonna take a quick shower before walking you home. You feel butterflies, you are his, The Great King’s. You are his queen and the world is your kingdom. This week, just another tiny scar on your heart. So small that it couldn't cause any problems.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month or so after the first time you and Iwaizumi were at the cliffside together, you show up and he is already there. This is a little weird and unexpected so you clear your throat making your presence known, not wanting to intrude if he doesn’t want company. Without even turning around he pats the seat next to him, he knows it's you, no one else would come to this spot at 11pm on a weekday. You sit still and silent, waiting for the spikers lead.

 After a deep breath he looks over to you with what might be the most emotion he's ever portrayed, but the scary part is its saddest smile you've ever seen. Still unsure of what is happening, you whisper, “Hey, Iwa? Is everything ok? Are you hurt?” Searching his eyes for an answer and all you find is pity. 

He pulls you into a hug and says he needs to talk to you about Oikawa. As soon as his name passed through his lips you knew what was coming. The knife in your back being twisted, sleepless nights, no way to stop your kingdom from coming undone.

------

The hardest lesson you ever learned is that, even though sometimes you would rather hurt than give up something good, it's never the right decision. If you were being honest with yourself, you still haven't really learned it.The scars Oikawa left on your heart, may never heal but, as much as it hurts to say, you wouldn’t mind that. He was your greatest love, your pride and joy, the reason you woke up every morning. If they disappeared, maybe you would forget all the good times. You wouldn’t want any other sadness this world had to offer. You don’t want just any shade of blue, you want white and teal and him. The only thing that you know you shouldn’t want.

Tags: @lydzisanerd @roandtheroses @karasu-hoes 

[lucy-268]

Revelations

A/N - This is ‘the talk’ and it takes place a week after Regrets. You can find that on my masterlist. Also, this meets the requirement for the @choicesweeklychallenge​. You belong to me can be found in bold.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: none? I don’t think even language.  

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 4,466

*****Thursday*****

“Has Denver General sent us any more information, or will I just find out when I get there?” June asked.

Consulting his notes, Ethan answered her. “Dr. Morgan said that he would send us the remaining test results as soon as he gets them. He’ll be sending them to all of us, so if you want to discuss the case with any of us we’ll all have the same information.”

June never looked up from the report she was reviewing. “I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Regardless of whether you think it’s a necessity, you will keep me informed of the case.” Ethan reminded her.

“Of course, Ethan.” June said. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get ready for my flight?”

“You don’t want to hear about my new patient?” Baz asked her.

June glanced at him. “My flight leaves in less than three hours, so no. At least not right now.” She gathered her files and left saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Baz, what is going on with your new patient?” Charley asked.

“Late-onset Chediak-Higashi Syndrome. For me as an immunologist, I find it extremely interesting, especially as the patient is thirty-two and just diagnosed.”

Charley looked between Baz and Ethan. “Is this a team patient?”

“No. This is a patient of Baz’s. We will have a new patient coming in on Monday for which you will be primary.” Ethan held up a folder.

Baz briefed them on his patient, excusing himself when he received a page saying the patient was being admitted.

“And then there were two,” Ethan handed her the folder.

She flipped it open and read through the file. “Twenty-five year old male. Diabetic. Joint pain and muscle weakness.” Charley looked at him. “Do you know what it is and you want me to figure it out?”

Ethan shook his head. “I have a couple of ideas but I don’t know for sure what it is. You should have several ideas right now.”

“The symptoms can be just about anything. You said he gets here on Monday ?”

He nodded. “He’s already been to Mass Kenmore several times. Even though we have sent a release signed by the patient, Terrance hasn’t sent the files to us. So we may start with spinning our wheels testing for things that they have already tested for and eliminated.”

Charley studied the file again. “Did you see the iron levels here? I think the first thing is a liver biopsy?”

“Are you telling me that’s what you are going to do, or asking me if I think that’s the right choice?” Ethan asked her.

Her head snapped up. “That’s what I’m going to order. I’ll even have the order written so the test is run as soon as he’s admitted.” Charley met his eyes. “What?”

Ethan smiled. “There aren’t a lot of doctors who could have figured out to start with that test after reviewing a file for less than fifteen minutes. Let alone a second year resident. So I am impressed.” He reached over and stroked the back of her hand. “You often impress me.”

She turned her hand and laced their fingers. “It’s Thursday.”

“So it is.”

“Last week you texted me and said we would talk on Saturday.”

“Yes. And we decided we’d have dinner at six.”

Charley met his eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind?”

“We’re meeting at my apartment. I’ll be there. We are long overdue for the talk. And I’m sorry for that.”

Charley smiles. “Will I finally get my chicken?”

“You will not. We’ve made the chicken together,” he held up his hand when she was going to interrupt, “this time, we’ll make something else. You plan the meal.”

“We may have made the chicken together but I never got to try it.”

“I want to see what you come up with. You can create any menu you want. Email me what we need and I’ll go shopping.” Ethan smiled at her.

Charley considered for a minute. “Anything?” When Ethan nodded, she continued, “My grandma had an amazing pot roast recipe. We could roast it in the oven or use a crockpot. It’s always best if it cooks on low in the crockpot, so that would take about seven or so hours. I’ll email you the list, and I guess I’ll be there late morning. I guess we’ll also have lunch together, too. That’s alright, isn’t it Ethan?” She didn’t even wait for his answer before she left the office.

Charley watched the office door to see if he was going to come after her and inform her they would not be spending the entire day together.

Ethan sat at his desk, he smiled as he realized that life would never be boring around Charley Valentine.

*****Saturday*****

Sienna pushed open Charley’s bedroom door. “Are yo-” Sienna stopped mid-sentence. She heard several loud thuds and  wanted to ask if Charley was okay, but she did not expect the scene she witnessed. She also didn’t see her roommate. “Charley!”

“I’m here,” Charley called, pushing herself out from under the bed. “I was looking for this shoe. That I can’t wear now. Thank you, Lucy!” The shoe had become a chew toy for their pet.

Lucy, their fennec fox, sat in the middle of Charley’s bed, looking proud of herself.

“Forget the shoe, we understand what happened to it.” Sienna looked around the room. “Was there a bomb? Are you telekinetic? Did your closet and dresser decide to vomit every article of clothing you own into your room?”

“I’m looking for something to wear, and I don’t have anything! I got off at five yesterday, I should have gone shopping!”

Sienna remembered the day a couple weeks ago when Charley got home late clad in someone else’s clothes. Based on her own conversation with a certain someone, Sienna had a pretty good idea who. Now she was frantically trying to find something special to wear. “What’s his name?”

Charley froze. “What’s whose name?”

“Obviously, the guy that you’re spending your day with. The same one you were with when you came home wearing clothes that were way too big for you. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Charley stated. “I’m not spending the day with anyone.”

“Yet you canceled on Bryce and me for today.” Sienna picked up a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a rip in the knees. “Here, put these on.” She smiled. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything special today, it doesn’t matter what you have on.”

Charley looked at the clothes that Sienna tossed on her bed. She had to leave for Ethan’s before Sienna would be leaving to meet Bryce, and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear.

Sienna watched her. “I heard that Dr. Ramsey also has today off. And he did when you had your second day off two weeks ago.”

Charley froze and looked to the door. “Everyone else is working today and they’re gone?”

Sienna nodded and sat down on Charley’s bed. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it wasn’t just the one night when he spent the night here?”

“That day we went to the country club and later I went to his apartment to talk to him? That was the first time, and the night after my hearing was the second. It was also the last time.” Charley sighed. “Then he went to the Amazon so we could ‘reset’ since he would be my director supervisor.” Charley sighed. “Since he’s been back he says we need to stay away from each other, but then he’ll kiss me. Today we’re going to ‘talk.’ We’ve been supposed to talk since right after the softball game, but it kept getting delayed.”

Sienna smirked at her. “You had on his clothes the day you came home.”

Charley's face turned red. “We spent the day together with his dad in Providence. We took his dog for a walk and I fell into a mud puddle.”

“You’ve met his family!”

“His dad. He hadn’t told Alan that he was bringing me with him. Ethan had never taken anyone home with him before, not even Harper Emery.”

“Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Emery were a thing!” Sienna’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t know if it’s really common knowledge. Aurora probably knows. I saw the two of them talking once and it seemed intimate. It was the day before they announced the opening on the diagnostics team. I did ask him about it later and he said he likes to keep his private life private, but he did say they had an on-again, off-again thing but it ended permanently when she became chief.” Charley rested her head on her hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone.”

Sienna mimed sealing her lips. “I thought that you and Bryce were kind of together.”

“We hooked up a couple of times but we both agreed to be casual.”

“And with Ramsey, you don’t want casual?”

“I don’t.” Charley chewed on her lip. “Sienna, I’m terrified about today. I know that everything is going to change.”

“Well then, let’s get you ready.” Sienna picked up the t-shirt and jeans. “This probably won’t do; we’ll find something else.”

Charley was just getting ready to leave when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id and sighed. “If you’re calling to cancel-” she started.

“I’m not,” she heard his rich baritone as well as a smile in his voice. “I had to go to the hospital to pick up something. If you haven’t left yet you can ride with me. I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Charley disconnected, smiling.

Soon they were in his apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and stood there when he walked further into the apartment. He got half way through the living room when he realized she wasn’t with him. He turned to find her at the door. “If we want to make this pot roast we need to go to the kitchen.”

Charley gave a nervous laugh and stepped away from the door. She tossed her purse on the couch as they walked into the kitchen. They washed their hands and Ethan pulled his crockpot out of the pantry while Charley pulled the roast out of the refrigerator. She saw the printout from her email with the image of her grandma’s recipe. Ethan gathered the rest of the ingredients while Charley brewed a pot of coffee.

“Why the crockpot instead of a roasting pan in the oven? I saw the recipe had directions for both with cooking times for either low or high in the slow cooker.”

“It tastes better and is more tender.”

Ethan smirked. “It does not. And we need to use the Dutch oven even if it’s just to brown the roast.”

“Maybe it doesn’t do a lot for the taste, but it is more tender.” Charley watched as the coffee finished brewing, standing  with her back to him. “It takes longer to cook in the slow cooker on low and I wanted to spend more time with you.” She gave a short laugh. “Funnily enough, now that I’m here, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “I think that today may change everything, and I’m hopeful but I’m also scared. I’ve been wanting to sit down with you away from the hospital with just the two of us for so long, but now that we’re actually going to do that...” She bit her lip.

“Now you understand why I’ve been putting it off. But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I talked to Naveen. We are long overdue. Today will change everything but we will be in agreement with it, I think.”

Charley nodded. Ethan turned back to the counter.  “Let’s get this set for dinner, fix lunch, and talk.”

Charley browned the roast in the Dutch oven while Ethan chopped the vegetables and herbs. Once the roast was in the crockpot, Charley cooked the onion. Once they started to soften, they added the rest of the ingredients, including the coffee. “Why coffee?” Ethan asked.

Charley smiled, watching the mixture simmer. “Is this a quiz, same as ‘why neat’ that first night at Donahue’s?”

“Genuine curiosity. As much as I love coffee, I’ve never had pot roast cooked in coffee. I found the recipe interesting.”

“It helps to tenderize the meat and gives the gravy a richer flavor.”

Once the gravy and onion mixture was cooked, Ethan poured it over the meat and set the timer. While Charley washed the accumulated dishes, Ethan fixed salads for lunch. They took their plates to the living room and sat side-by-side on his sofa.

“You talked to Naveen about us.” When he nodded, she continued, “I talked to Sienna.”

They fell into a silence while they ate. Charley glanced at him every so often.

He pushed the last piece of lettuce around on his plate before finally setting the plate on the coffee table. He turned to her; she mimicked his moves and faced him.

“Ethan, I’ve said for a while that a relationship with you is an easy decision for me. It’s what I want. I think that we could be good together, amazing even.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. You aren’t the problem, I am. I want to be able to push you to be the best doctor you can be.”

“You can do that professionally, regardless of any personal relationship we have. I can take criticism from Dr. Ramsey and know that it isn’t coming from Ethan.”

“You’re assuming that I can also have that division.”

That got Charley’s attention. “You’re Ethan Freakin’ Ramsey. You can do anything you try to. If you want to make the distinction you will. And if you cross the line, I’ll let you know.”

“Another problem-”

Charley put her hand on his arm. “If you just want to list a lot of potential possible problems, why are we even having a discussion? Earlier you said that today would change everything and you thought we’d be in agreement.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. “If you thought that I’d change my mind about us, you’re wrong. If you thought you could list all the reasons why we can’t be together and why you won’t be with me, I was right to be nervous about this. If that’s-”

Ethan reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “What I want to do is identify the obstacles or potential obstacles we face so we are both aware of them, and to decide how we need to handle them in the future.” He wiped a tear out of her eye. “Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I very much do want to be with you.”

Charley grabbed his hand and kissed his palm before lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Continue, please.”

“Another problem is the board. They don’t like interoffice romances. Naveen seems to think this won’t be an issue. He seems to think that as long as it isn’t impacting the care of the patients, or the bottom line of the hospital, they wouldn’t care, nor would they even need to be aware. I disagree with him on this. I think the board makes it their business to know what goes on in the hospital.”

Charley interrupted again. “I know that there are married couples at the hospital. Was it a problem when you and Harper were together?” Ethan drew in a deep breath when she asked that. “If you don’t want to answer that you don’t have to.”

“I will. It was not a problem and the board did not have an issue with it when she was head of neurosurgery and I was a fellow on the diagnostics team. If our relationship would have continued when she was chief or if I had been a surgeon, it would have been a problem. Any other couples at Edenbrook do not work in the same area, and one member of the couple is not another’s supervisor.”

Ethan continued, “I don’t want anyone to think that you got the position on my team because of our relationship. I don’t want anyone to have any doubt about that. You earned it.”

Charley nodded. “I did earn it. You weren’t even the one who put me on the team. Naveen did.”

Ethan agreed that while that was true, many people at the hospital could have thought that he asked Naveen to do that.

“If anyone has doubts, I graduated at the top of my class at Columbia. Not near, I was ranked first. In fact if anyone had ranked all med school graduates my year from around the country, I’d probably be in the top fifty.”

Ethan laughed. “Someone did. And you are higher than that. You are somewhere in the top twenty. I’m not going to narrow it down more than that for you.”

“Based on that, I think I earned the right to be on the team. Not to mention helping to cure Naveen last year. Our relationship had nothing to do with it. Well except for the fact you inspired me to go to med school in the first place. And I wanted to work with you, which is why I came to Edenbrook.”

“We probably don’t want to advertise our personal relationship at work. The hospital has a wonderful gossip network and we’ll need to be careful. That being said it probably won’t be long before everyone knows about us.”

“That sounds okay. But some people will know. I told Sienna and you told Naveen. My roommates will know I’m seeing someone, and will make it their mission to find out who.” Charley wasn’t sure if she should mention the next part, but figured she might as well. “June does, or she thinks she does. At least that was what she implied the day I caught her with my personnelle file.”

Ethan froze. “She had your file?”

Charley nodded. “She said that she reads the files for everyone she works with. She tried to tell me you asked her to get it for you, but I knew you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ll deal with her when she gets back from Denver. Your roommates and Naveen are fine.”

“If my roommates know Bryce will also know; and if Aurora does, Harper might.” Charley looked up at him. “Can we talk about Harper?”

“I thought we already had.”

“You ended things when she became chief. If she wouldn’t have, would you still be together, do you think?”

“We would not. We were together because it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. But we were never going to last.”

She smirked at him. “By ‘mutually beneficial’ do you mean it was convenient and the sex was good?”

“Yes.” Ethan said. “But then last year something happened that I knew would never lead Harper and I together again.” When Charley tipped her head to show she was interested in his answer, he continued. “Last year, an intern showed up and turned my life inside out. And I can’t get her out of my head.”

Charley started to move towards him, and he stopped her. “What about the scalpel jockey?”

Charley lips twitched. “His name is Bryce.”

“I’m aware, and you didn’t answer the question.”

“We hooked up twice, once at our housewarming party and again once after we were at Donahue’s. We almost did the night we researched treating Mrs. Martinez, but you’d already kissed me in Miami. I wasn’t interested in anyone else at that point.” She looked at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Bryce is a friend and a good one. I trust him. I also know if I ever did want a relationship with him, I’d have that choice. I don’t, and Bryce respects that.”

“As long as he knows that you belong to me.” Ethan pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

“And you belong to me!” Charley shifted slightly on his lap and felt his hardness under her thigh. “We could continue this in the bedroom.”

“A very good idea.” As Ethan stood and lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Several hours later, they were laying with their legs tangled together, voices soft in the quiet room when an alarm on her phone beeped.

“Somewhere you need to be?” He kissed the top of her head.

She pushed herself up. “Actually, yes. The kitchen. I need to start the vegetables.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a robe that on him would reach mid-thigh. He tossed it to her, before grabbing another for himself. This one hit him at mid-calf. “You could have this one if you wanted.” She indicated the robe she hadn’t yet tied. It fell below her knees.

He snorted. “Be responsible for you tripping in this one? I don’t think so.”

As Charley gathered what she needed for the roasted cauliflower, Ethan grabbed the green beans. Charley explained that sometime they would fix potatoes with the roast, but her grandfather grew up near Idaho and often decided he wanted anything other than potatoes, so they would have cauliflower. “I don’t like raw or steamed, but I really like them roasted with this mustard sauce.”

Charley watched Ethan pull a cake plate out of the refrigerator. “Dessert?” At Ethan's acknowledgment she asked what it was. He wouldn’t tell her, saying he wanted it to be a surprise.

They worked efficiently together in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Ethan selected a red wine for them and opened it to let it breathe. He carried their plates to the dining room table.

“This is good; the coffee does make the gravy richer.”

“Grandma knows best. My grandfather grew up in Spokane and grandma in Seattle. They had a restaurant in Seattle that my dad and all my aunts and uncles worked in while they were growing up.”

“You have a big family?”

“My dad had three brothers and two sisters. But even though they had six kids, my grandparents only had four grandchildren. There was my brother and me; we grew up in Pennsylvania. My one uncle had two boys and they were in Oregon. All of my dad’s family is in the northwest and we didn’t see them often. My dad moved there after he retired and I started med school.”

Ethan watched her. “Are we going to talk about your mom’s family?”

Charley shrugged. “Not much to tell. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was in college. She was an only child and you know why I don’t talk to her.”

As they cleared the table and kitchen he asked her what he had been wondering about. “Why did you decide to do your residency in Boston with most of your family now out west?”

“It doesn’t feel like home to me there. I figured I could do my residency anywhere; it wasn’t a commitment to stay somewhere for my life. It’s only three years.” She smiled at him. “Besides coming here let me learn from the best.”

Ethan poured coffee and set the mugs on a tray with two dessert plates. Charley watched as he lifted the cover off the cake.

“Lemon! How did you know lemon was my favorite?” Charley couldn’t resist. She swiped her finger on the edge of the cake to collect a sample of icing. She popped it in her mouth.

“I asked Sienna the other day and she told me.”

Charley stared at him. “She helped me get dressed this morning and she didn’t say anything!”

Ethan laughed. “You need help getting dressed in the mornings?”

She felt her face redden. “I… well… um. I didn’t know what to wear this morning.”

“I would have gone with clothes, but I understand that some people are fussier than others.”

“I wanted to look nice.”

“You always look nice.”

“I thought that I always looked satisfactory.”

Ethan cut two pieces of cake and added them to the tray with the coffees.

“I thought we could take these into the bedroom. If that would be satisfactory to you?”

She nodded and he carried the tray to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. He flipped a switch causing the gas fireplace to spring to life. Charley picked up her cake and snuggled back against Ethan. “I like the fireplace here.”

“I don’t often use it.”

“Why tonight?”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Charley turned and straddled his lap. “You better be careful. This company could end up corrupting you.”

“I look forward to it, if that’s the case.” Ethan rolled her unto her back.

Several hours later, Charley looked at the clock. “I should go home. I have to work tomorrow and my boss can be tough if I’m late.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be sure you’re not late,” Ethan buried his head in her neck.

“I don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“You can either grab some scrubs from the locker room or ask your roommate to bring something for you.” Ethan pointed to his dresser. “I cleared both of the bottom drawers for you, if you want them.”

Charley chewed on her bottom lip. “You knew what the outcome of our talk was going to be before we actually talked today. When did you decide you wanted-”

“The night of the softball game, when I kissed you.”

Charley stared at him. “Then why did you keep putting me off when I wanted to talk?”

“Because I kept coming up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. And I decided not to do that anymore. I’m tired of avoiding whatever it is we have.”

“Why do I get the two bottom drawers?”

“You’re shorter than me!” He indicates the drawer on the right. “You actually do have clean clothes in there. What you wore when we went to my dads. You at least have something to wear to the hospital.” Ethan watched her. “Any other concerns for tonight?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yes, but it’s one of the standard ones dentists hand out. It should be fine until we can get you one to keep here.”

Charley put her head on his pillow. “Then I can’t think of a single reason to get out of the warm bed right now.”

He turned off the light and slipped under the covers with her. “Neither can I.”

Tag list (if you want to be on or off let me know) @oofchoices @openheart12​  @jamespotterthefirst​  @ohchoices​  @catchinglikekeronsene  @aylamreads​  @nerdydinosaursweets​  @eramsey28​  @txemrn​  @starrystarrytrouble​  @queencarb​  @thegreentwin​  @lion-ess24​  @caseyvalentineramsey​  

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[puckinghell]

Let It Snow | William Nylander

Summary Request:

alternatively, our flights get cancel and we’re two strangers who rent the last available car together (it might be a little dangerous but we’re living on the edge)

and

we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b 

and

we don’t know each other that well but i found out that you’ve never been sledding skating and feel like it’s my personal mission to change that

Words: 10k (I’m SORRY) Note: So, a few things: I wrote most of this when I was either drunk or sick, so excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes. Second of all, you guys wanted one long thing instead of parts, so here’s 10k of word vomit. Third of all, this is cliche central, and I’m not even sorry. And lastly, I know Will’s family doesn’t live in Calgary anymore but I very well couldn’t have them drive to Sweden.

---

“I hate snow.”

It’s meant to be mumbled under your breath, for nobody to hear but you; you didn’t even really mean to say it out loud, but it kinda slipped.

You really hate snow.

The guy that’s sitting opposite you looks up. So far, he’s been engulfed in his phone, but now there’s an interested look on his face as he takes you in.

“Why?” he asks.

As if that’s a totally normal thing to ask a complete stranger in the middle or a crowded airport.

You shoot him a dirty look, take a sip of your coffee before answering him, your voice deadpan. “Have you looked around you?”

The guy looks, as if he actually hadn’t noticed before that the airport around him has been getting busier and busier, the people there more annoyed and miserable looking by the second.

“Oh,” he says.

Yeah, oh.

You huff and return your attention to the announcement board again, hoping the message is going to magically change.

It doesn’t. Flight delayed, it says.

“Are you going to Calgary too?” the guy asks.

Now it’s not really his fault: he hasn’t personally caused a huge snow storm to hit Toronto and he’s probably just trying to be nice, but you’re already in a bad mood.

So you snap: “No, I’m just sitting here for shits and giggles.”

“Never mind,” the guy mutters, and his eyes fix on his phone again.

Great, now you feel like shit about that.

However, the universe needs to give you a break. This has literally been the worst week of your life and it’s only Thursday: the only thing that has pulled you through so far is knowing you’re going to see your dad, and now it’s looking like that might be going up in flames.

“Excuse me, may I please have your attention,” a voice sounds over the speaker at your gate, and you perk up in your seat. “We regret to inform you that, due to the upcoming snow storm, all air traffic in this area has been cancelled until further notice. Your flight will not depart today. For more information, you may contact the information desk.”

“Fuck.”

The guy opposite you raises an eyebrow. “If you don’t want people to start a conversation with you, you might want to stop talking to yourself.”

He stands up leisurely, as if the cancelled flight is no bother to him at all, and grabs his suitcase. He points to the board, where it now says Flight cancelled instead of Flight delayed – fucking fantastic – and motions at it, as if to say “what can you do”.

“How are you so chill about this?” It’s more that you’re wondering out loud than actually wanting an answer, but of course the guy grabs the opportunity.

“Well, it’s still four days to Christmas, and Calgary isn’t on another continent. It sucks that there won’t be any flights anytime soon, but you can’t change the weather.” He smiles. “I actually love snow, personally. And a little snow has never stopped me before. So I’m gonna rent a car and drive to Calgary.”

You stare at him. “Drive? To Calgary? That’s insane.”

“I mean, not as insane as spending Christmas away from my family,” the guy reasons, and….

He might have a point. You could stay here, and be miserable alone, or you could drive to Calgary and spend time with your dad like you planned. You could be enjoyed your dad’s pancakes, drinking hot chocolate by the fire place watching Elf, within a mere 40 hours, if you put the gas pedal down.

It’s, objectively, insane.

“I’m gonna rent a car too.”

“Great,” the guy says, jovially. “We can walk together then!”

And that was not really your plan, but to be fair, you don’t really know where you’re supposed to go to rent a car and this guy is walking as if he does this every day, so you dutifully follow him.

You take this time to look him over; he looks funny, in sweatpants with white sneakers – in the snow! - and a hoodie with a coat. He has a beanie on and there’s a few blond streaks of hair escaping from under it. He’s wearing thick black framed glasses. The suitcase he has with him has the Gucci logo on it, and you find yourself wondering if it’s real.

The guy is dressed like he’s either super rich but doesn’t care, or is slightly blind and got a 13 year old high school boy to pick out his clothing at a weird second hand shop.

“What’s your name?” the guy asks, and you frown.

“Why do you care? I wasn’t aware we were going to become best friends in the time it takes to walk to the rental car booth.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, remaining completely unbothered as if you didn’t just snap at him. “I’m Will.” He glances over at you, seemingly amused. “It’s just a cancelled plane, you know. Not the end of the world.”

“It’s not just about the plane.” You almost tell him about the week you’ve had, but you decide it’s not worth the trouble. After all, you’re just going to rent a car and then you’re going your separate ways, and you’ll never see him again.

That’s the plan, at least. But it wouldn’t be this time in your life if your plan didn’t get ruined.

“I’m sorry, miss, that was the last car we have available,” the woman behind the computer says, right after she’s handed Will some keys. “Everyone is trying to get outta here by car, now that the planes aren’t going.”

You nearly, nearly, start to cry.

“What do you mean the last car? Surely you have a car somewhere,” you beg. “Any car. A bike. I don’t care. I have to get to Calgary for Christmas, you don’t understand…”

“I understand,” the lady interrupts, the friendly facade sliding off her face. “Unfortunately, I cannot help you. Have a good day.”

Have a good day?

“Look, lady…”

You’re about to yell at her some more when you feel someone tap your shoulder. Of course, it’s Will, beaming down at you with the keys to your last option in his hand.

“Yelling at her won’t work, you know. It’s not gonna make you feel better or stop you from being in a mood.”

Something inside you snaps.

“In a mood? You wanna know why I’m in such a mood, Will? I’m in a mood because this Monday, I got told my residency at the hospital I work at might not be available to me next year, because they’re cutting personnel at the department. On Tuesday, I ran my legs out of my body for 15 hours before they told me that I shouldn’t come back after Christmas. On Wednesday, my boyfriend of almost a year broke up with me because he’s looking for different things in life, whatever the fuck that means. And the only, only thing I was looking forward to was seeing my dad again, and now this stupid snow has ruined that for me as well. So excuse my mood, but I will yell at whoever I want to!”

Will blinks at you, then raises an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Slowly, you exhale through your nose. You do, actually, feel better, and Will seems to know that because he’s grinning.

“If you’re done yelling, I was gonna ask you…” he trails, “do you want a lift?”

 ---

 Arguably, this is a bad idea. You don’t even know this guy. He could be literally anyone.

“You could be a serial killer,” you tell him, putting on your seatbelt and sinking into the passenger’s seat. “You could drive me out of the city, murder me, dismember my corpse and leave me in the woods.”

“Hmm,” Will hums, as he starts the car. “I could, but that would massively delay my arrival time.”

You kick up your feet on the dash and play with the radio; the only songs you’re getting are Christmas songs, and that’s just not the right mood. Of course, as soon as you settle on some station that’s not playing Christmas music, Will frowns.

“Do you hate Christmas? Cause if you’re the Grinch, I’m gonna have to kick you out now.”

You look out the window; Toronto traffic is bad as always and you’re standing still barely out of the airport.

“I’m not the Grinch. I just don’t love Christmas.”

“How?” Will exclaims. “Christmas is the best holiday of the year!”

“I prefer Halloween,” you say, and Will rolls his eyes.

“And I’m the serial killer.”

“Christmas is overrated. I don’t care for trees in my house, creating a mess, Christmas movies are cheesy, Christmas songs are objectively bad and everyone is just stressed around Christmas time, trying to find gifts and decorate and wear stupid sweaters and go to parties with people they don’t like.”

You don’t tell him that you also don’t like Christmas because when your mom left, she said she would send you a Christmas gift.

As if that made it okay for a mother to leave her 12 year old daughter behind.

“Grinch,” Will mutters under his breath. You reach out and smack his arm, and he yelps in surprise. “Hey, don’t hit the driver, we could crash!”

“We’re literally standing still.”

“I could accidentally press the gas!”

“Then you’d be an idiot!”

You sigh and drop your head against the headrest, staring out of the window at all the headlights surrounding you.

It’s gonna be a long trip.

--

For the first few hours of the drive, it turns out the not be the worst. First, you and Will talk about your families a little: he’s got four siblings and his parents are still “very grossly in love” (his words) and you tell him that you’ve got just your dad and grandma left.

You don’t tell him what happened with your mom and he doesn’t ask, which is probably good judgement from his side.

Most of the time, however, you nap and Will drives or you drive and Will sleeps; you both decided that you want to get to Calgary as fast as you can, and not stopping is the way to do that.

It feels like it’s been days, but in reality you’ve only been driving for about 8 hours when Will stretches beside you and yawns.

“We should stop for gas,” he says, “and get me at least two liters of coffee to inject into my veins.”

“Probably a bad idea,” you deadpan. “That volume of liquid into your system would probably kill you instantly, and if it didn’t, the caffeine would give you a heart attack. Also, if you have to pee in an hour I’ll kill you.”

Will grins. “No good outcome possible for me, then, huh?” He points out the window. “Gas station.”

While you’re driving down the lane, he turns to look at you.

“You’re a nurse,” he says, and you frown.

“Yeah, I told you that.”

“I know, but like, you’re an actual nurse. I didn’t think about what that meant. But that’s really cool.”

You sigh. “Well, yeah, but if I don’t find another residency I’m gonna be half a nurse. And that won’t pay the bills.”

“You’ll find one,” Will says, easily enough, as if it’s a mere fact, and for the first time since you got the news, you feel some of the anxiety in your stomach settle.

It’s probably strange, that the fact that this guy, who you have only spent one day with, can tell you it’s gonna be fine and you believe it.

Maybe it’s because he seems truly genuine in his conviction. Maybe it’s because you’re just that desperate.

“Coffee?” Will asks, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“I’ll go get it, you fill the tank,” you say, because you really want to stretch your legs. You spend your time wandering the little shop, getting two large coffees and also a few snacks for the road – what else is there to do in a car but eat and nap – and when you finally reemerge, Will is talking to someone next to the car.

“So awesome to meet you, dude, huge fan,” the man says. You watch as Will scribbles something on a napkin with a pen.

“Anytime. Sorry I don’t have paper.” Will smiles at the man politely as he hands him the napkin.

“No problem!” The man seems very excited about the napkin, and as he walks back to his car, he looks at Will again over his shoulder and waves. Will waves back, then turns to you and makes grabby hands for the coffee.

“Gimme!”

“What was that?” you frown, holding the coffee out of his reach. “Who was that?”

“A guy,” Will deadpans, “and a napkin. Coffee, please?”

You don’t hand it to him but he somehow manages to snatch it out of your hands; he’s faster than you’d think he’d be, and he’s back in the car before you can ask again.

Luckily, he’s stuck with you in this car for a while.

“That wasn’t just a guy,” you say, stubbornly. “He was really excited to see you. Does he know you?”

“I don’t know him,” Will answers, and that’s about the best deflecting you’ve ever heard.

“Not what I asked.”

Will sighs. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Do you watch hockey?”

“Hockey?” you repeat dumbfoundedly. “Like, where people skate after a piece of rubber? No, why?”

“But you know hockey is a pretty big deal in the city, yeah?”

You don’t know why Will is pressing the issue; you’re more interested to find out who the man is, but Will seems very intent on this line of conversation, so you decide to let him get away with it for now.

“Yeah, my boyf… ex boyfriend is a big Maple Leafs fan.”

Will snorts, but before you can ask what he means by that, he points to your phone, that’s laying in your lap.

“Google Maple Leafs number 88.”

“Why, is he hot?” you tease, but you do as he says.

William Nylander, your screen tells you, and beside it is a picture of Will.

“Kinda,” Will says blankly.

You look at Will, and then at your screen. Then back at Will. “That’s you,” you bring out, and Will chuckles.

“Well, yes. Does that explain enough to you?”

And it does. You might not watch hockey – you don’t really watch sports anyway – but you know from your ex how big a deal it is to some people, and you can imagine what it must be like to be a Leafs player living in Toronto.

You also remember your ex screaming at the television screen.

“Rough season so far, huh?” you say. “That why you wanna go to Calgary so badly?”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Yeah, kinda. I mean, new coach, new opportunity, I’m excited, it’s just…” He pauses, seems to ponder his answer. It doesn’t sound like a rehearsed media answer, when he finally speaks. “I really need that new start, but I need a little break to empty my mind a bit, first. Put it into perspective, I guess. My dad is really good at helping with that, and so is my brother. Alex plays in the NHL too, and my dad used to. It’s… They know what it’s like, but they’re not on my team, so they offer more of an outside view.”

“You can tell me?” you offer. “I don’t know shit about hockey, so I’ve got an outside view.”

Will is laughing, then, and his eyes are twinkling and the car feels strangely small, suddenly.

“What do you do when you suck at your job for a while, and everyone loses their faith in you, and then you get better but nobody believes in you anymore?”

For the heaviness of the question, his tone is light, and he’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in beat with the music, as if he asked about your holiday plans.

You think of your mom.

“When I was little, I used to patch up my dolls with plasters and tell my mom I wanted to be a nurse. She said I couldn’t because I fainted at the sight of blood.” You shrug. “You just have to show them, I guess.”

Will nods slowly, then breaks into a smile. “Did you really faint at the sight of blood?”

“Shut up,” you chide, and the mood is lifted. It’s getting dark outside and you know you’ll have to start napping soon if you wanna take over driving in two hours, but for now you’re perfectly happy listening to Will’s chatter and the soft rumble of the engine in the background, as the car speeds down the highway, getting a little closer to Calgary with every passing minute.

---

Your eyes flutter open to darkness around you, and the car sitting in the parking lot of a gas station.

You turn just enough to see Will: he’s behind the wheel, eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape as his head hangs back.

The car is surrounded by snow: white flurries of it floating down to the ground, hitting the car.

For a second, you wonder why you’re not cold. Then you catch sight of Will’s coat, draped over your legs and stomach. You can’t help but smile at it, and then you close your eyes again.

The situation feels safely serene and safe, and you might as well take advantage of that and get some more sleep.

--- 

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of Christmas music coming from the speakers, Willy’s voice singing along.

“Not the time for Christmas carols,” you groan, and Will laughs.

“It’s always time for Christmas carols, Y/N,” he chides. You hear rustling, and you finally open your eyes.

“I stopped for a few hours,” Will says, “just to get some sleep. But we’re up and running again.”

Ah, that explains the scene you woke up yesterday. You glance at the clock: 7am. The sun is slowly starting to rise.

“It’s too early for you to be this happy,” you grumble. You haven’t had any coffee yet and that means you’re really not in the mood to have Will radiating energy around you.

“How are you not this happy?” Will asks. “Look outside!”

Outside is the road, but you understand what he means. Everything is covered by a thick layer of snow.

“It’s… white,” you say, because that’s about as far as you’re getting.

“It’s beautiful!” Will’s eyes are lit up with excitement.

“You’re insane,” you state, because that has been proven by this exchange.

“No I’m not! Snow is amazing. It’s beautiful, and it’s fun. Everything gets better in winter.”

You crank up the heat in the car and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Everything does not get better in winter,” you frown. “First of all, it’s cold. Everything is slippery because of the frost, the snow turns to yellow mush within a few hours. You have to shovel the driveway.”

“Or you could build snowmen with it. You can go skating on the ponds. Have snowball fights.”

You snort. “Snowball fights? What are we, 12?”

Will’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re never too old for a good snowball fight.” His voice is fond as he continues. “I play in the snow with my younger siblings every winter when I’m home. That’s like, the best part of Christmas.”

And, well…

“I can kinda get that, in concept,” you say softly. “There was never really anyone to play with me, I guess.”

Will’s eyes are a little sad as he glances over at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You appreciate that: you’re not ready to share anything more and it’s like he senses that. Instead, he changes the subject.

“Hey, have you ever been skating?”

“Nope,” you say, and the grin Willy shoots you is a little wicked.

“We’re changing that today.”

--- 

What Will means, apparently, is that it’s a good idea when you’re halfway between Toronto and Calgary to stop in a small little town and find an ice rink.

“This is insane,” you protest. “We’re losing time!”

“We’ve got 48 hours til Christmas,” Will shrugs, “and only an 18 hour drive left. Come on, after this we’ll drive straight through. It’ll be fun.” His eyes are shining and you can literally feel the excitement buzzing off of him, and, well…

Skating did always seem like fun to you. When you were younger, you asked your dad to take you once, but renting skates costs money so it never happened. You remember the disappointment in your dad’s eyes as he had to tell you no, so you didn’t dare ask again.

“I’ll buy you hot chocolate after,” Will coaxes. You don’t understand why he wants to go that badly: he spends most of his days on the ice, anyway, surely he’d be happy for a break.

“Fine,” you grumble, and you can’t help but laugh at the smug look on Willy’s face as he pulls the car to the side of the road.

The rink is small and filled with people. There’s a lot of small children that are skating behind little chairs, and you can picture yourself being there too.

“I’m gonna be so much worse than them,” you whine, at the same moment one of the kids falls onto the ice. A woman helps the little girl up and she goes right back at it.

You don’t think you’re gonna be that brave.

“Oh, shush, I’m not gonna let you fall,” says Will, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

This whole situation is so freaking cliche, and you are not going to fall for it.

You rent skates for you and Will brings his own, because of course he brought skates in his suitcase. You’re struggling with the laces on the bench next to the rink, mostly to stall for some time; your heart is beating fast in your throat and your hands are a little clammy.

“Need some help with those?” Will is sitting sideways on the bench, and he’s grinning at you amused while you struggle. Feeling a little bold, you swing your leg into his lap.

You can tell he wasn’t expecting it because his eyes widen slightly, but then the grin only broadens and he starts carefully lacing up your skates. You watch as his fingers work the laces expertly – it’s clear that he’s done this a million times before – and then, his hand curls around your ankle.

“Other one,” he orders, and you switch legs.

Finally, the skates are on and Will hops to his feet, extending his hand and helping you to your feet. You’re already wobbling and you’re not even on this ice yet.

“If I break my leg, I can’t drive,” you say, mostly because the thought pops into your head.

Will rolls his eyes. “You’re not gonna break your leg.”

“If I hit my head and have a concussion, I can’t drive either.”

“Y/N.” Will’s voice is firm enough that you look up at him. He’s frowning. “You’re not gonna break anything, or hit anything, or fall. If you really don’t want to do this, we can leave now, but if there’s any part of you that agrees that this could be kinda fun, I promise you I’ve got you.” His eyes are a little shiny as he adds: “Trust me?”

And it’s stupid, you know it is, because you barely know Will. You’re pretty sure you’d have found out if he truly was a serial killer or any other type of psycho, but you can’t be sure he’s not irresponsible – although he did pull over in the snow – or prove that he’s trustworthy in any way.

And yet…

“I trust you,” you say then, and the blinding smile that crosses Will’s face is worth the fear in your heart when you place your first foot on the ice.

You can feel it slipping right away, but Will literally hops on the ice next to you, two feet planted firmly on the slippery surface, and places his hands on your hips, steadying your waist. In a reflex, your hands curls around his biceps, and once again you are reminded that holy shit, he’s a professional athlete.

“Wow, easy,” Will hums. He slowly guides you further away from the door, and your other foot adds to your first, and then you’re gliding.

You can’t call it skating: Will is moving backwards and pulling you with him, but you’re not necessarily moving on your own.

The first round goes like that, and then you decide to be brave and start moving your feet.

To be fair, Will keeps his promise. He never leaves your side, his hand firmly on your lower back even when you do start skating yourself, ready to catch you whenever you stumble – which is a lot.

“I’m doing it,” you yelp excitedly, when he finally lets his hand hover a little away from you. “I’m skating!”

Will laughs. “Proud of you, babe.”

And it’s probably just something he says; he probably calls a lot of people babe, it probably means nothing, and yet…

“Help,” you manage to squeak, and then your arms are waving in the air and your feet are slipping from under you and you try to maintain your balance, but you can pinpoint the second it’s a lost cause.

For a split second you’re plummeting towards the ice, but then two arms are wrapped around your waist and you just kinda… hang there.

“Thanks,” you say dryly. You’re hanging in Will’s arms as he’s hysterically cackling out laughter above you. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and pull you up.

“Majestic,” he giggles, and he tightens his grip on your waist when you slap him in the chest.

“Rude,” you grumble, but you can’t help the smile that’s tugging at the edges of your lips.

It’s weird, but suddenly you notice how close he is, and when his eyes travel to your lips the smile falls from his face and you can tell he noticed too.

You stare at him, and it’s like the air is charged with something; your heart is beating in your throat and you swear he’s moving closer.

Oh, you think, we’re gonna kiss.

Strangely enough, the thought doesn’t send panic to your throat the way it did when your ex kissed you the first time, the way it always has when someone kissed you. Instead, it’s like everything inside of you goes calm and quiet.

You want him to kiss you. And it’s a little scary how not scary that is.

You’re interrupted by a small voice.

“Mister Nylander?”

Will startles, yank back fast enough that you nearly tumble straight back down to the ice, but one firm hand on your waist keeps you standing. He turns around then, to face the little girl that spoke: she can’t be more than five years old and is wearing a helmet with a cage, holding a hockey stick in her hands and staring at Will with wide, starstruck eyes.

He bends down into a squat – on skates, literally, how – and smiles at the girl.

“Hi, yes, that’s me. You can call me Willy, though. What’s your name?”

“Amanda,” the girl beams. “Can I get your autograph, mister Willy?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Willy says. “How about I bring my friend here to the safety of the ground and I shoot some pucks with you, huh?”

Amanda looks like someone just offered her the entire world and everything in it. “Please,” she says, and Will quickly guides you towards the side of the rink.

“I won’t be long,” he promises, and he almost looks apologetic, which…

Which is ridiculous. Because you can tell that him just being here made that little girl’s day, and you think of the things you wanted as a little girl and the heroes you never got to meet, and…

“Take all the time in the world, please,” you say. “I’ll go get myself that hot chocolate.”

For two hours you sit at the side watching Will with the kids. Somehow after Amanda more and more kids appeared and now he’s created somewhat of an impromptu hockey team because they’re all playing and the adults cleared the rink.

It’s entertaining, to watch Will with the kids. He’s a good teacher, and you can see them hitting the net more and more as time passes on, and he clearly makes it fun: they’re all laughing and screaming and at one point, a few of them tackle Will to the ice, where he rolls around and pretends to be unable to get up, yet hops to his feet the second the kids get distracted.

It’s insane, how comfortably he moves around. Like, you knew this, because he’s a professional hockey player, of course he can skate, but you didn’t really think anything of it until you see it in action. He’s obviously not even trying to do anything fancy, and he’s probably not trying to be fast either, but he is, and he stops without problem and turns in any direction and even jumps over a puck, at some point.

You can’t lie. It’s kinda hot. But then, you’ve always had a thing for people who were clearly good at something.

For example, your ex was a really good painter. He was also really good at being a lying, cheating bastard.

Before you can go too far down that rabbit hole, there’s commotion on the rink, someone crying and then Will’s voice, too loud: “What happened?”

When you look up he’s kneeling in front of a little boy, who’s crying and staring at his hand.

You jump up, worrying, but Will has already lifted to kid in his arms and is skating towards you now, with big strides.

“He took a skate to the hand, we’re gonna need some bandages,” he says, and a parent yells something about getting a first aid kit while Will puts the kid on his lap on the bench. “Can you look at him?” he asks you, worry evident in his voice even though he’s clearly trying to remain calm. He’s a little pale, but you don’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Hey, buddy,” you coo at the kid, kneeling in front of him, placing your hand on Will’s knee to steady yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Tim,” the kid cries. “My hand hurts!”

“I know it does, Tim. But the good news is that we can fix it,” you promise him, examining the hand. It doesn’t look too bad: there’s a cut, but not deep enough to perforate anything more than flesh, so you’re not too worried.

The first aid kit arrives and so does Timmy’s dad, who doesn’t seem too bothered. “He falls all the time,” he says, “that’s what hockey is, isn’t it?” He preens at Will, who dutifully ignores him in order to talk to Timmy in a low voice.

You wrap up Timmy’s hand and tell him to take it easy for a few days, and then before you know it you’re in the car and Will is holding the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white.

“Do you want me to drive?” you ask tentatively. There’s no answer, but Will isn’t turning on the car. “He’s gonna be okay, you know.” Silence. Another try. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just can’t believe,” Will starts, but he seems to choke on the last word and lets the sentence die, drops his head and inhales sharply. It takes a while, but finally he speaks, a little more composed. “I hate when parents tell their kids that hockey is about pain and sacrifice. It can be, sometimes, but it shouldn’t be, not for a little kid. It should be about fun, and learning skill, and being with teammates, and loving it. It shouldn’t be about falling and injuries.”

He sounds so frustrated that it tugs at your heart strings, and for a split second you allow yourself to wonder what Will was told by his dad, when he was a kid himself.

“He wasn’t even trying to soothe him,” Willy bites. “He was too busy fawning over the presence of a professional hockey player, and I don’t… I don’t wanna be the person these idiots believe I am.”

“And you’re not,” you blurt out. “Will, these kids had so much fun with you.”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I just… Me and my brother, we always had fun skating. My dad told us it was important to always have fun. But I’ve seen it happen to friends. They were so passionate about hockey, but their parents pushed them, wanted them to be better too quick and told them to suck it up when the skates hurt their feet and it just fizzled out, you know? Until one day it wasn’t any fun and they quit.”

“It’s a shame,” you echo. “But your dad…?”

“He was hard on us, sure.” Will shrugs, smiles for real this time. “Pushed us to be better. But he always made it fun.” He turns to you. “Your dad… He stood behind your dreams?”

You remember you told him your mom didn’t think you could be a nurse, and you laugh. “The blood thing, you mean? Yeah, he didn’t agree with my mom. He always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, and if I decided I wanted to be something else, I could be that, too. He’s always been there for me.” You shrug. “I’m lucky to have him. My mom… She left when I was 12. And I…”

You stop, for a second, wondering if you’re really gonna tell this to a complete stranger. But the thing is, Will doesn’t feel like a complete stranger anymore. Talking to him feels more comfortable than talking to most of your friends, and you can tell he really cares about what you’re saying, and you just, you want to tell him, so you do.

“I don’t like Christmas because my mom left right before Christmas, and she said: ‘I might not see you for a while, honey, but I’ll send you a Christmas gift.’ She didn’t, and I never saw her again.”

When you glance at Will, he’s frowning, a deep crease edged into his forehead. “That’s messed up.”

“Yeah, but, it was a long time ago. I’m mostly over it, I just never learned to love Christmas the way most kids do, I guess. My dad tried to make it fun for me, but it was always the reminder, you know, that I didn’t have a mom and other kids did.” You laugh, a little bitterly. “And then this year my ex-boyfriend dumped me on the 16th. My mom left me on the 17th. So I guess December is just not a good month for me.”

“Your ex is an asshole.” Will says it with such force, gritting his teeth, that you can’t help but reach over and put your hand on his knee.

“It’s okay,” you muse, and the tension leaves Will’s shoulders as he carefully wraps your hand in his.

His hand is warm and a little rough and there’s something hammering in your chest, and you wonder how it’s possible that you met him two days ago and he’s already making you feel more than your ex-boyfriend ever had.

You guess you never really liked that guy as much as you told yourself you did. 

“It’s not,” he says, but he doesn’t so upset anymore. “And if he was here, I’d punch him in the face. But I’m glad to see you didn’t let him hurt you too much.” Will grins. “And now you’ve been skating, so, like, fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” you echo, and Will starts the car.

18 hours to go. And then you’re in Calgary, and you’re gonna see your dad, and you’ll probably never see Will again.

For some reason that thought leaves a sinking feeling in your chest.

--- 

“Psst.” You groan as someone softly tugs your arm. You try to turn around, but there’s something digging in your back and you can’t quite get there. The tugging gets more persistent. “Hey, Y/N.”

“What?” you grumble, finally forcing yourself to open your eyes, and it’s only when you see Will’s face in front of you that you realize you’re not in your bed. You’re in a car, it’s pitch dark outside, and you’re standing in front of a lit up building.

“Snow storm is getting really, really bad,” Will says. “We have to stop for the night. It’s not safe to keep driving.”

You’re about to tell him to stop being such a baby, and you’ll drive, no problem, when you risk a glance out the window and see… nothing.

Literally, almost nothing. Just a big building, and some lights that could be from streetlights or UFOs, for all you know, because there’s a big blanket of white covering your sight. Snowflakes are streaming down in a curtain, and you can hear the wind howl around the car.

Okay, yeah, maybe it is unsafe to drive.

“Where are we?”

“Hotel,” Will says. “I checked, only hotel within 10 minutes of the highway. Pray that they have a room for us.”

He leaves you in the seat to wake up a bit more, and goes to get your luggage; he swings your bag over his shoulder and hauls his suitcase out of the trunk, and finally opens your door.

“Come on.”

You grab his hand and let him pull you out of the car, although you walk in front of him to enter the hotel. The woman behind the desk looks up as you open the door.

“Please close that behind you,” she says, friendly enough, “I swear if that cold comes in I might freeze, here.”

“Hi,” you say to her, “I know, it’s bad, right? We were hoping you have two rooms available for us, so we can escape the storm?”

The woman types something on her computer, then frowns. “I’m sorry, it’s very busy at the moment. Lots of people stopping in from the highway. I have one room left, if you’d like? Double bed.”

Oh, fuck. You’re not sure if you’ve quite wrapped your head around in, when Will chimes in next to you.

“Cool, we’ll take it.”

“We…” you start protesting, but Will raises an eyebrow and looks at you with so much attitude that it shuts you up.

“Would you rather freeze to death in a car?” he asks pointedly. “I’ll take the couch or the floor, or whatever, chill. I promise I won’t murder you in your sleep.”

Getting murdered is not what you’re worried about, to be honest. You’re worried that sharing a hotel room with Will is just gonna make these feelings in the pit of your stomach worse.

But there’s not really another option.

“Fine. We’ll take it.”

“You know,” Will chirps, when you’ve got the keycard and he’s taking the luggage up the stairs, “there’s a lot of girls that would kill to be forced to share a room with me.”

“That’s because they’ve only looked at your face, and don’t know your personality,” you drawl, and you know you’ve made a mistake when Will’s face lights up.

“You think I’ve got a pretty face?”

“Not what I said,” you answer quickly; too quickly, because Will is looking way too smug as he takes the keycard out of your hand and opens the hotel room door.

The room itself is nothing special. It’s small, but the bed looks comfortable and it’s warm, so you’ll take it.

“Shotgun on the bathroom,” you say as soon as you get in, and Will rolls his eyes but dutifully flops on the bed and starts typing on his phone while you find your toothbrush and disappear to the bathroom.

When you walk out, Will is laying sprawled over the bed, although he’s luckily still on top of the duvets. His hoodie has ridden up a bit and his sweatpants are – dangerously – low on his hips, so there’s a strip of skin showing.

Your mouth goes funnily dry, all of a sudden.

The thing is. You might not have wanted to be stuck in a hotel room with a guy you met at the airport only 2 days prior, but if it had to happen, Will is not a bad guy to be stuck with. He’s, objectively, very hot – you’re not blind – and he’s funny, and easy to talk to, and he’s been nothing but nice, even when you were a teeny tiny bit rude to him at the airport.

Did you mention he’s very hot?

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, jumping up from the bed.

While he’s doing that, you lay in bed and scroll through Instagram on your phone. Maybe you stalk Will on Instagram, only for a little bit, and you find a picture of him with his siblings that’s so cute it has you smiling at your phone.

“What are you smiling at?” Will’s voice surprises you so much that you drop your phone on your face with a yelp, and the sound of his laughter rings in your ears as you bury your red hot face into the pillow.

You hadn’t even heard him open the bathroom door again. Luckily, you don’t think he saw, but you lock your phone just in case.

Then, you look up, and if you thought you couldn’t be any redder in the face, boy were you wrong.

Because Will is wearing boxers, and nothing else. Now, you think to yourself, as you glance at him before shamefully returning your gaze to your hands, if you had a body like that, maybe you’d be more keen on showing it off too, but…

“You’re gonna be cold,” you tell him, and you can hear, more than see, his eye roll as he says:

“Okay, mom.” Then, he opens the closet and takes another duvet out. “I’ll be fine, I have this.” He grins a little cheekily, as if he fully knows what he’s doing to you. “Normally I sleep naked, but…”

“But not today,” you squeak, and he’s laughing again.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that he’s getting to you, you throw the second pillow at his head and then roll to your side.

“Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight,” he answers softly. You listen as he potters around the room; probably tries to get his ‘bed’ for tonight as comfortable as possible. Finally, the lights click off.

You can’t sleep. You know it the second the lights are off, and Will’s breathing evens out. Your mind is going a million miles per hour and there’s so many things that happened, that you’re going to have to overthink before you can sleep. What’s not helping, either, is the fact that Will keeps tossing and turning.

You’re starting to feel a bit bad. You’re in a bed that’s big enough for two – maybe even three, it’s that big – and Will is laying on a cold, hard floor, with just one duvet and a pillow.

Outside, the wind is howling, and you know if you looked out the window the entire world would be covered in white. The room is warm enough, but you picture how there must be a draft, so close to the floor, and suddenly you can’t take it anymore.

It’s selfish, to make him sleep on the floor all because you’re worried about wanting things you can’t have.

“This is stupid,” you say, sitting up. “You should just sleep in the bed.”

For a second, it’s quiet. When Will speaks, he sounds unsure. “Are you sure? I mean, the floor isn’t great, but I don’t mind, I promise, if you’d rather not…”

“Look, we don’t have to, like, cuddle, or anything.” You can feel yourself blush but in the darkness of the room, there’s no way Will can see, so you keep talking. “You stay on your side, I’ll stay on my side, and it’s basically the same distance as having you on the floor. Just, the floor is cold, and uncomfortable, and there’s no need to…”

“Okay,” Will cuts you off, and he jumps up, duvet in hand. He’s grinning as he slides into the bed, curling the duvet around himself. “You don’t have to convince me, I was just being a gentleman.”

You snort. “Don’t do it again, it freaks me out.”

“You drive tomorrow, then,” Will hums, and it already feels better, to hear his voice right next to you instead of from somewhere at your feet. He sounds better, too; lighter, and more comfortable. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” you answer, finally closing your eyes.

“If I had to cross the country in a Kia during a snow storm with anyone from that airport, I’m glad it’s you.”

You think of what you were thinking before, and smile.

“Me too, Willy, me too.”

It’s quiet again, and Will’s breathing starts evening out. For some reason, you still can’t calm down: you try to match your breathing to his, but it’s too shallow and you can feel your heart beating in your chest.

“You’re fidgeting,” Will says then, his voice loud in the quiet room. Only then do you notice that you have been twisting the duvet between your fingers time and time again. Will goes to lay on his stomach and turns his head to you. “You okay? I can sleep on the f…”

“It’s not you,” you interrupt him. It is, of course, but not in the way he thinks.

“Okay,” Will says slowly. “Then what?” Before you can answer he reaches out and slowly wraps his hand around yours, causing your fingers to dis-attach from the duvet.

And, the thing is…

You could tell him to mind his business. You could tell him a lie, or something that’s kinda true but not the real reason.

Tomorrow, you’ll be in Calgary. On your dad’s couch, drinking hot chocolate. And Will is gonna be in his own house. And then after Christmas, you’re both flying back to Toronto, but you’re not stupid. Will is a famous, and really attractive, athlete. You just got out of another failed relationship. You’re not good at relationships, turn out; you don’t even know if you really believe in love, anymore, don’t know if you even think it’s worth it to try.

But right now, you’re here, and he’s here, and you swear you’re not imagining the way he looks at you, sometimes.

You’ve had to deal with cancelled planes, problems at work, a dumb ex boyfriend, and this stupid everlasting snow, ruining your life one day at a time. So, you might as well give yourself this one thing that you want.

“Or, it is you,” you say, and you can feel Will stiffen beside you. “But it’s not that I don’t want you in this bed with me. In fact, it’s kinda the opposite.”

You can feel your cheeks flush: you’re not good at this, don’t really know what to say.

But then Willy grins and suddenly he rolls around, his body now hovering over you as he pushes himself up on his forearms.

“So does that mean I finally get to kiss you?” he hums, and you answer by pressing your lips against his.

---

Hours later, you’re both naked, a mess of tangled limbs in sheets, and Will’s chest is rising and falling with every peaceful breath. You close your eyes and bury your face in his neck.

Outside, it snows, and it snows, and it snows.

---

You wish you could enjoy the next 10 hours.

First, you spend 2 hours getting showered and ready – it would’ve been a lot shorter if Will hadn’t slipped in the shower with you, so it’s his fault if you’re late – and then you have breakfast at the hotel while Will tells you more about his family.

His face lights up when he tell you which Christmas gifts he’s got for his siblings and it’s adorable.

Then, you drive. The final 6 hour drive, and it flies by so fast you would’ve believed it if someone said it was just 2. You drive the first few hours and then Will takes over for the last part, and you chat the whole way there.

At some point, Will starts singing along to Christmas songs, and you don’t even change the channel.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Will croons; you can’t help but laugh and then you’re both laughing and singing along at the top of your lungs.

You wish it never had to end.

“So,” says Will, “this is your street, huh?”

You decided he would drop you off and take care of returning the rental car, and you’re almost regretting that decision cause you would’ve liked those 20 extra minutes with him. However, you know that that is, objectively, insane, so you ignore the knives that are being ran through your heart when Will parks the car on the curb.

“Home, at last,” he says, softly. He’s not smiling anymore. “So, when we get back to Toronto, we should…”

“Don’t,” you interrupt softly. “We both know this is where it ends for us.”

At this, Will frowns. “It doesn’t have to.”

“Yes, it does.” You swallow heavily, try to get rid of the lump in your throat. It doesn’t feel right but it is, and you need to let it end here before you end up with hopes that will crash and burn and expectations that will never be met.

“What if I don’t want it to?” he asks quietly.

As much as Will might believe he wants to see you again – and you don’t doubt that he’s being truthful about that - it’s just not realistic.

People don’t meet the love of their life in an airport after a cancelled flight, don’t live together forever after long a cross-country drive, don’t live happily ever after after a snowed in hotel.

People do leave their husbands and kids the week before Christmas, they do cheat on you, they do break your heart.

Snow might make things seem more magical, but after all, it’s just frozen water.

“But I want that.”

Will’s face falls, his eyes sad and honest, but he nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks for the drive, then.”

His voice is distant, now, cold and impersonal: you know you deserve it but it hurts, anyway, and you scurry out of the car, take your suitcase out of the trunk.

You’re standing next to the car, ready to walk down the driveway, when the window opens.

Will’s head pops out, and he sends you what you think is meant to be a smile. It’s not a real one, and he still mostly just looks sad, but he’s trying, you think.

“I know December is a hard month for you, but I truly do hope it’s gonna get better. Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

The window closes and the car drives off, and something inside of you breaks.

“Merry Christmas, Will,” you whisper with tears in your eyes. You could’ve stood there for hours, but the front door opens.

“Y/N?” your dad’s voice calls. “I’m so glad you made it, you won’t believe the snow we’ve had…”

--- 

There’s a blanket on your lap as well as Snuggles – your dad’s cat – and you’re drinking tea while Elf plays on the television.

Your dad has been talking excitedly all through dinner, but now it’s quiet as he watches the movie. He seems happy, light, and it soothes something inside of you.

Sometimes you worry about him.

It’s not until the end credits roll that your dad turns to you. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks tentatively, and that’s all that you need to hear in order to break into tears. “Oh, honey,” he sighs, then takes your hand in his. “What happened?”

You have no idea where to start.

“Dad,” you whisper, “do you think you can die from a broken heart?”

Your dad smiles sadly, shakes his head. “If you could, I would’ve been gone by now, probably,” he jokes, but it doesn’t land. “Is this about that boyfriend of yours?”

And, well, the funny thing is, you haven’t told your dad about the break up, but it doesn’t even matter. Your heart is broken and it has nothing to do with your ex.

So you tell him about Will. You tell him about how you almost weren’t here, tell him about cancelled planes and one lone rental car, about how he went from Will to William Nylander right back to Will, about coffee breaks and sleeping on the side of the road and skating and the little kid who hurt his hand, about snow storms and a hotel room with one bed – not about anything else from that night, though – and finally you tell him about goodbye.

When it’s all said and done, your dad frowns. “You keep saying it had to end. But honey, it sounds like you really like this guy.”

You do, oh God, you do.

“Why would it have to end?”

You don’t say anything, but as always, he knows exactly what you mean.

“Just because it ended for your mom and I doesn’t mean it always has to end, you know. Sometimes it’s worth to try.” He pats your hand. “I think you should call him.”

And that’s when it hits you. It doesn’t really matter if you’d wanna call him. 

You don’t even have his phone number.

--- 

“Y/N! Patient in room 11!” your colleague yells. “I’m going to the kid in room 4 if you need me!”

You sigh and throw down your clipboard. You have no idea why the hospital is so busy; it’s December 28th, which promises a disaster on New Years Eve, which is usually your busiest day of the year.

Fireworks, man.

You’ve been on your feet for 9 hours but you don’t even really mind. Just the thrill of working in a new hospital has been keeping you going; it might have something to do with the fact that this hospital will let you finish your residency, too. They called you the day after Christmas.

Some might call it somewhat of a Christmas miracle.

“I’m on it,” you call back, then start making your way to room 11. You nearly bump into the doctor you’re working with today, and she halts you by putting a hand on your arm.

“Are you a Leafs fan?” she asks.

It might be the weirdest thing someone has randomly asked you; the conversations you have had with this woman have ranged from “can you get me some blood from the vomiting boy” and “in what room do I find the catheters” and now she’s asking you about your sports teams?

Your heart clenches tightly as you think of Will.

“Not really,” you answers. That seems to be the right answer because the doctor smiles and waves towards the room, telling you to enter. You’re still confused by the whole exchange when you walk into the room and nearly trip over your own feet.

“Oh,” Will says slowly, “that’s quite a coincidence.”

It’s like your tongue has grown two sizes; you can’t speak, can’t even begin to think of what words to say, when suddenly you notice something.

“What the hell happened to you?”

There’s blood all over the hand he’s clutching to his chest, and his face is white as a ghost. Next to him is an equally pale guy wearing a Leafs sweater, who is staring at you with wide eyes.

“Uhm, I fell,” Will says sheepishly. “Turns out snow is quite slippery.”

It hasn’t snowed in Toronto in days.

“He didn’t fall in the snow,” the guy next to him grumbles. “I tried to wrestle the remote out of his hand and he fell into the Christmas tree and sliced his hand open with an ornament.”

“And Kappy has just promised to clean everything up, right, Kap?” Will asks with a sly smirk. Some of the color is returning to his face, which is more than you can say for his friend Kappy.

“Okay, well, let me have a look,” you mutter, and you gather some of your supplies before sitting next to the bed.

If you try very hard to avoid Will’s eyes and focus completely on the gash on his hand, that’s between you and the hospital room.

“So, first aid, huh?” Will asks. “Found a new job? Told you.” He sounds stupidly smug, so you raise your eyebrow and press the gauze to the wound. He inhales sharply. “That’s mean.”

“I’m trying to clean it,” you tell him sternly. “Sit still. God, Timmy was a better patient.”

“Hey,” Will protests, offended. “I’m a perfect patient.”

When you see how deep the wound is, you wonder how it’s possible that Will is still so chatty, and you also feel a little nauseous; it’s always different when it’s someone you care about.

“I’m gonna go get doctor Summers,” you say, and your voice is a little unsteady.

You’re probably imagining the edge of disappointment to Will’s voice when he says: “Yeah, okay.”

While doctor Summers examines Will’s hand, his eyes are fixed on you, and you keep yours fixed on your shoes. There’s so much you want to say to him, so much you want to do, but this is not the time or the place and also you have no idea how to start a conversation like that.

You tune back into the here and now when you hear the word “surgery.”

“It’s not a real surgery,” doctor Summers says, “I just think we need to set a bone and we also need to stitch up the muscles.”

Will is a little pale again as he nods.

You get send away to prepare the necessities for the procedure and when you come back, Will’s friend is gone.

“He’s gonna pick me up when I’m done,” says Will, who sees you looking. “Are you gonna… Are you gonna be here, while she does it?”

“Nope,” you answer, and this time you’re definitely not imagining the way his face falls. “Are you gonna get in trouble with the team for this?”

Will pulls a face. “I’ll probably get a stern talking to from Kyle.” When he sees your expression, he laughs. “My boss.” He sighs, looks out the window.

It’s started snowing, again, because apparently the universe loves taunting you.

“You know what the worst thing is? I ruined my tree.”

“That’s definitely not the worst part,” you roll your eyes. “It’s after Christmas, you should’ve probably taken it down anyway.”

“I couldn’t take it down yet,” says Will, his face completely serious, “there’s still one Christmas miracle I’m waiting for.”

He’s staring at you intently and you can feel your heart beating in your throat.

There’s no way he means…

But what if there is?

You make a decision then, and when Will is getting his hand worked on in a different room you run to the cafeteria.

“Hey,” you yell at the lady behind the counter. “I’m gonna borrow this for a second!”

She looks at you like you’re a crazy person and you can’t blame her: you’re literally standing in your scrubs, screaming at her from the middle of the cafeteria after having just yanked a tiny Christmas tree from the table.

“Okay?” she yells back, and it sounds more like a question than a blessing, but you take it and run anyway.

Room 11 is still empty; although Will’s coat is still lying on the bed, so he must be coming back. You take the tiny tree and put it on the bed side table, plug it in.

There’s only about 10 lights in the tree, but when you flick off the big lights, it still looks pretty Christmassy.

And so, you wait.

To say you’re nervous would be an understatement; there’s every possibility in the world that Will has changed his mind since you last saw each other, and the last thing he wants is you confessing how much you like him in a hospital room after just having destroyed his hand, but you have to try.

Every time you think about bailing, you hear your dad’s voice in your head.

Sometimes it’s worth it to try.

This is one of those times.

“No strenuous activities, take it easy…” Finally you hear doctor Summers voice and you stand up.

The door opens tauntingly slowly, and there is Will. At first, his eyes widen as they catch the Christmas tree, and then his head swivels around and he sees you; a slow smile spreads across his face.

“A Christmas tree?” he asks.

“Well,” you smile, “you did say you wanted a Christmas miracle…”

“But you don’t like Christmas,” Will points out.

And that’s true, but…

You take a step closer and Will raises an eyebrow, questioning but not looking like he wants to run away.

“I don’t,” you admit. “I didn’t. But then something happened… Or, well, someone happened. And now I’m thinking that I might have to give Christmas a chance.” You’re standing right in front of Will, now, and he had all the time in the world to back off but he didn’t. Instead, he’s looking at you with an amused expression on his face, the corners of his mouth curled into a tentative smile.

“I think there might be a few things I have to give a chance,” you finish.

“God,” Will breathes. “I really hope you mean us.”

Instead of answering, you kiss him.

It feels somewhat familiar and yet as if you’ve never been kissed before: there’s fireworks in your stomach and everything feels warm and fuzzy, like nothing matters except for the feeling of Will’s lips on your lips, his chest pressed against yours.

“Y/N!” someone yells from the hallway, and you reluctantly pull away.

“I have to get back to work…”

“Okay,” Will whispers, pecks you cheek quickly. “But we’ll talk…”

“I’m done with work in an hour,” you interrupt.

Will nods. “I’ll tell Kappy he doesn’t have to pick me up.” He grins. “Unless you’d rather not drive in the snow?”

“Shut up,” you tell him, but it’s with nothing but fondness.

You’re already running to the hallway, ready to see the next patient, when you hear Will yell after you: “You said you hate snow!”

And that’s kinda true, but…

Sometimes, even if it messes up your plane, or gets you stuck in a snowstorm, or makes you fall on your ass…

You just have to let it snow.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Nov 16th, Monday 15:39

The phone landed somewhere to his left on the bed, when he had let it fall from his hands. Though he badly  had wanted to throw it against the wall.

Unfocused Jens tried to calm himself. He knew he overreacted, that it wasn’t actually something bad, that it wasn’t meant to attack him. He wished just that his body would understand this too.

Instead his lungs felt a little too tight to allow him to breath freely. His room was too bright, so he pressed the heels of his hands to his closed eyes.

Fingers then grabbed his shoulder.

„Jens?“

That was Lucas.

Right. The boy next to him was almost about to leave. Just after they finished this online class. Which remined him that he probably should have listened to that instead of chatting away on his phone with the broerrrs.

„Did something happen?“ The fingers moved to cup his face and turn it, causing his eyes to fall free from the self induced pressure. He blinked his eyes open, trying to look at Lucas, who appeared to be puzzled, but not less worried. „Is there something I can do to help?“

„No, I’m just frustrated.“ That was a lie. Or was it? He definitely felt some sort of frustration, but he was sure it was more directed at himself and not at any of his friends.

„Okay.“ Lucas didn’t believe him, but didn’t say anything else, instead he his thumb began to slowly brush over his cheek. Jens was glad. That’s what he told himself. Aa a part of him wanted Lucas to ask him further. To question it. Even though Jens wasn’t sure if his answers would be honest. So perhaps frustration was the right word in the end.

„Moyo and Aaron are just assholes, saying stupid stuff about me having to go grocery shopping and Robbe hasn’t replied for an hour to defend me.“ Said out loud, it actually sounded childish and dumb. He felt incredibly stupid right now. God, what Lucas must think of him right now, getting worked up over some stupid comments.

For a moment there was only the sound of their teachers voice from the speakers filling the room.

„What did they say?“ Lucas looked at him, still being serious. He wasn’t laughing at Jens as the older boy had expected somehow.

„Nothing bad really. Just why I always have to do so much and have no time for them and our group any longer. Asking if they are no longer important to me. Bullshit like that. We spend basically all saturday playing games together. And Moyo often has to take care of the household and his little brother too. So why does he have to bitch about me? Bullshit.“ Jens groaned. He knew that it was unfair to compare them, like his friend had done in chat. That it was different. 

Yes Moyo had a lot of responibilities at home too. And he fullfilled those diligently. But usually just a couple days a week, not for months straight. And Jens wouldn’t even be in the position if he just simply told them. He was at fault he realised. He probably should apologise for texting them to fuck off and leave him the fuck alone. His exact words from five minutes ago.

He still was angry, so perhaps he could do that a bit later, when he wasn’t so damn emotional.

„That sucks.“ Lucas said, looking a bit at loss for how to handle the situation, Jens couldn’t blame him for that. Obviously he didn’t know the broerrs all that well yet and it did come a bit out of nowhere.

So Jens tried to smile, it had already been enough help, that Lucas had been around and listened to him. Jens actually felt already a bit better. Eating up feelings definitely never was a good idea, he had seen Robbe succumb to that last year. And now he proved them to be not better. 

Why was it so much easier to handle stuff as an outsider looking in and not vice versa?

„Do you want me to call and cancel the appointment with the caretaker? Because I would have to leave in like five to ten minutes otherwise.“ Lucas asked, pressing a kiss to Jens’s temple, brushing through his hair, before he leaned back and closed his laptop. Class was over, it was announced over chat. Lucas never took his eyes off of Jens though.

„Nah, I’m good. Otherwise I’ll call you later and complain for hours how fucked my life is. And you are not allowed to hang up until I say so.“ Jens slowly found his usual self again, smirking at Lucas, who nodded and smiled back.

„Deal!“ The boy proclaimed and then they both got up from his bed, Lucas to collect all his things, he had somehow managed to strew about the whole room, and Jens to put his schoolwork back on his desk. He would go grocery shopping first and do his homework later. Truth be told, later meant obviously not today or when the clock was running towards midnight.

„So I’ll see you on wednesday then?“

Jens almost was about to agree, when his eyes fell on the calender by his desk, the one he rarely used. Only to write his mothers appointments in, because they were important and he didn’t allow himself to forget about them. He couldn’t.

„Thursday?“ He replied therefore, daring to look at Lucas, who was busy packing his things. The younger boy sighed a little sad, but returned a smile at Jens nonetheless.

„Sure.“ He said briefly. Too brief?

„My mother has an appointment, that I accompany her to. I promised her. Sorry. It wasn’t on my mind til now.“ Jens felt the need to explain, unsure if Lucas would be dissapointed otherwise. Obviously he wouldn’t have been, as he looked over to Jens, before he got up and went to meet him at the desk. His arms wrapping around Jens’s middle.

„It is okay if you have other things planed, Jens. I do too, like with today or my own mom. So stop worrying. I can see it on your face. And I don’t want a wrinkly boyfriend, because he frowns all the time. Okay?“

Jens nodded, all his troubles shrinking away as he was being kissed by Lucas. He was so lucky to have this boy, who seemed to understand so easily. With Jana, Jens was sure, they would have fought every day. That made him notice something else.

„Did you just call me boyfriend?“ Jens asked, leaning back to see Lucas eyes go wide, as realisation hit him.

„I...yes?“ He tried cautiously, smiling awkwardly, as his cheeks blushed a faint red. „I mean. I don’t plan on seeing anyone else.“

„Me neither.“ Jens let the other boy know. „But it’s all a bit fast, isn’t it?“

Lucas shrugged.

„What isn’t with us?“

That was indeed a fair point the dutch boy made. And Jens was sure, that in his heart and mind they already were the first time they kissed, though never outspoken. They still didn’t know each other that long.

„My boyfriend then.“ Jens said, the world feeling odd on his tounge. Boyfriend. Who would have thought? Definitely not him. Weirder even, he loved the sound of it immensly. He could say it again and again. On repeat.

„Boyfriend.“ Lucas agreed, giggling softly as he let the word escape his lips and fill the air between them.

„Alright, you can go now.“ Jens declared, nodding towards the packed bag of Lucas next to the bed.

„Very lovely of you.“ Lucas joked, absolutely not offended in the slightest. They kissed again. And maybe one more time, before they broke out of their embrace.

„I guess I can finally start to be my worst around you.“

„So just the usual, huh?“ Lucas said, eyebrow raised, leaving Jens speechless. This boy always had something to hit back with. Always some last word to shut him up. So he simply followed Lucas out of his room and downstairs, giving him the victory.

They stood in the doorway of the entrance, Lucas dressed and ready to go, and yet both of them busy kissing lazily, enjoying their little intimicy.

„See you on thursday then?“ Jens whispered against Lucas’s lips, partly as a reminder for himself, pulling the boy’s closer. If it was even possible, but Lucas hadn’t yet stopped breathing, so perhaps it was still fine.

„Mhm.“ Lucas assured him wordlessly, pecking to more kisses to Lucas, smiling happily away.

„Alright, my beloved boyfriend, Mr. Van der Heijden, off you go.“ Jens tried to put some authority into his voice, ready to let go of Lucas, who, only clung stronger to him in return. Making them both laugh.

„I love when you do that.“ Lucas said quietly, looking away, as he did.

„What?“

„Call me by my last name. I don’t know, makes me happy and maybe a little excited.“ The dutch boy said, his confidence not yet back as his eyes searched for Jens’s again. 

Now that was something Jens hadn’t expected. He just started using it to make light of a situation, to get them back to the real world and do whatever they actually should be doing. Apparently it did had a different effect on Lucas.

„Dully noted.“ Jens said, his eyebrows raised mischievously. He could definitely make use of that. He snorted at how quick Lucas was to step out of his arms and open the door. It looked a bit like fleeing, if not his giggling betrayed him to let Jens believe Lucas was okay. So he let the boy leave.

„See you thursday. Can’t wait.“ Lucas shouted over his shoulder, walking up to the street.

„Me neither, Mr. Van der Heijden!“ Jens yelled after him, laughing as he watched his boyfriend trip over his own feet, trying to keep balance. It earned him a very agressive middlefinger before the door fell shut. 

The incident with his friends, not even an hour ago, completely forgotten.

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[buckyshenley16]

The Tales Of The Winter Soldeir and Winter Witch

Book1, Chapter 1

3 Years before Bucky was drafted

February 5th, 1940

Ramona’s POV

Putting my stacks of paperwork on my desk ready for tomorrow as my work day comes to an end, I find myself sighing in relief after a long day of again getting nowhere with the ‘Jeweler Case.’ It seems to be a never-ending case as this is our second week trying to solve the jewelry store robbery and who did what and when, why, and so on.

“Lover boy is on the phone Ramona.” Peggy gloats with a smug grin on her face purposely making sure the speaker was not covered.

“Like I’ve told you almost a hundred times Carter, he is not my lover boy.” I exclaim emphasizing the word ‘not’ with an eye roll and taking the phone off her. “Why hello Buck, what would you be calling to ask the 3rd time today?” I ask with a slight chuckle whilst throwing a rubber at Peggy who is winking at me.

“Just checking before I leave to walk you home doll, did you bring a jacket today? It’s freezing outside and I can see your jacket still hung up, would hate for ya to catch a cold especially when you live with someone with an immune system like Steve.” Bucky says, his Brooklyn drawl being clearer than ever.

“You know, I do have more than one coat Buck?” I ask. “Just checking Mona, I didn’t walk you today so I didn’t see what you left in. Just seen what you woke up in or should I say what you didn’t wake up in.” Bucky asks with a hint of flirting and a hint of cockiness in his voice.

“Yes, and if you carry on with your Mr, big ego act that’ll be the last time you see that, Barnes.” I retort.

“Okay we both know that’s not the truth. Anyway, I’m bouta leave doll, will be there in half an hour, will wait in the usual spot.”

“Not true but okay, see you soon Buck” I say trying not to drop the phone from between my ear and shoulder whilst locking my cabinets. “See you soon, darlin'.” Bucky finishes before putting the phone down.

Bucky and I had known each other since being 6 and 9 being introduced by our friend Steve. Steve had been like a big brother growing up, Sarah being nothing but welcoming to my family when we fled to Brooklyn from Russia. Sarah and my mother would both take turns between childcare; me, my three younger sisters and brother being at the Rogers’ every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and half the day Sunday whilst mother would go to work at the laundry where Sarah also worked.

And obviously Steve would be at our house every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Every Sunday we would have dinner at the Rogers’ with our mother. Our father stayed in Russia with mother wanting to flee a situation I wasn’t told about until I was old enough to understand. Father was abusive and an alcoholic and had a job mother didn’t agree with, but we were never told what that job entailed and whilst I found myself wondering every so often, curiosity never killed the cat and I was enormously proud of that.

Bucky, Steve, and I were best friends growing up with Bucky and Steve being stupidly overprotective of me even when I became a fully trained agent and officially full time at SSR. My mother never 100% agreed with my job and whilst Bucky and Steve questioned it at first for my safety, but once they realised I could handle myself (after witnessing me defend myself against a couple of not so nice men who got a bit too close for my comfort) they were 100% supportive of my job, especially Bucky with one less person to save from the allies and one more person to help when Steve found himself on the not so nice ends of the alleys face first into the trash cans.

It was around 18 years old I'd started developing feelings for Bucky, not that I’d never admit it to him, I was far too proud and full of denial for that because he would never go for a girl like myself; at least that’s what I thought until I found myself intertwined in his sheets with his body wrapped around mine after one passionate, unexpected night a year later.

This went from happening every few weeks, to every two weeks, to maybe once a week to every few nights and I’m still in denial that he would ever want to make things official.

I question whether I want to become his girl, especially with my line of work and seeing my parent’s relationship be the bane of their lives when I was younger. All I’ve ever seen is relationships fail and that is why I refuse to put myself through the pain of one. I care about Bucky, he’s the one person who no matter how rotten the day be I’m guaranteed to have a smile on my face when I see him.

When Sarah died both mine and Bucky's families became close ensuring two big family units to support Steve and even a year and a half after she passed; me, Bucky and Steve got a shared apartment together. Sure, it was no five stars, but it was home and as long as the three of us had each other that was all that mattered. Steve was aware of mine and Bucky's “situation” but chose not to get involved.

Stuck in my own little world I'd not realised half an hour had passed and Bucky would be waiting for me so after grabbing my coat and bag I made sure to say bye to Peggy and arrange coffee and breakfast before work tomorrow morning where we could discuss some of the cases privately, seen as though we knew we were massively undermined at SSR we got a lot of thinking and solving done mostly when we were alone together where no male could underestimate or interrupt us.

Walking down out of the doors I spotted Bucky with a glowing grin on his face, it took everything to keep my footing steady. “Hello, beautiful. How would you feel about hot chocolate and dinner on me at our spot?” Bucky asked holding his arm out to me which I gladly took.

“Gee buck, almost sounds like you’re asking me on a date!” I tease earning a nudge to my side causing a fit of laughter.

“One day doll, I’ve already asked several times but one day I will get a yes out of ya.” Bucky retorted.

“I’ll hold you to that Buck, how was your day?” I asked clinging to his arm.

“The usual, woke up to a fine dame next to me, crappy coffee, got to work. Left work, pulled Steve out of an ally, nagged Steve how he’s not ten men and should think before he acts, walked the little punk back to the apartment, read the paper and now I'm here to pick up you. How bout you doll?” Bucky explains with a hint of sarcasm.

“Same old, really strugglin’ with this case I just can’t seem to understand how a whole jewelry store could be robbed without even a fingerprint left behind nor how someone could even get a hold of that damn gas. How many men was it today? Did you or Steve get hurt?” you ask with a sigh giving Bucky's arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey Mona, don’t worry too much about it, we both know you’ll get to the bottom of it like always and I’m sure whoever’s guilty will regret it when they have to face the bottom of your shoe. Two guys, managed to reason with them after giving one a right hook.” he winked.

“Oh, I know I will, thanks Buck I can always rely on you for some good old confidence boosting. I give up telling the jackass he’s gotta stop this, I may as well be talking to a brick wall!” I finish with a chuckle. As we walk into the bright, retro diner Bucky holds the door open for me before guiding us both to a booth. As we take our coats off a waitress comes to us.

“Well would ya look who it is, only our two favorites! Where’s Rogers tonight?” Our waitress Nancy asks.

“Probably at home bathing his black eye, sulking about his fight whilst planning his next one.” I exclaim earning a laugh from both Bucky and Nancy.

“I don’t even gotta ask, usual for you two?” Nancy asks pointing between us both with her pen.

“Of course!” Bucky says with a grin

“That’s two hot chocolates and a portion of fries coming up!” Nancy exclaims.

“Thanks, Nance!” we both call.

Me, Bucky and Steve have been coming to this diner since we were in school. Their hot chocolates were practically the glue to our friendships. As I looked up from my hands, I spotted Bucky looking at me with a smile on his face. “What’s got you all smiley?” I ask with a grin.

“Just you!” Bucky exclaims grin turning wider.

“Are you purposely trying to make me blush?” I ask with a chuckle feeling warmth go to my face praying my blusher somewhat cancels the blushing.

“Always doll, I just like to make ya blush and to know I’ve still got it.” Bucky explains with a cocky smirk. Damn you and your godly smile Barnes!

“Glad my embarrassment gives you an even bigger ego boost Buck!” I laugh before our food and drinks get set down and we start tucking in.

*An hour later, on the way home from diner*

“Thank you for that Buck, it was fun. Was nice to be sat anywhere but that office.” I explain.

“S’alright doll, anything to put a smile on your face. I wanted to actually talk to you. This, us been goin' on a little while too long now.” Bucky stopped walking and turned me to face him taking both my hands in his.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask feeling my heart rip into two.

“Yeah, doll.” he grins.

“Oh okay, no I totally get it Buck we’re kinda not going anywhere and I’m really not ready to put myself into a relationship right now and you wanna move on or you’ve already found a girl. I get it, no hard feelings.” I say holding back the tears.

“Woah doll, no no! You’re completely taking it the wrong way. Mona, I like you, scratch that I’m crazy bout you. I understand you don’t wanna take this further just yet, but I can wait,” he says cupping my face in his hands looking into my eyes.

“Buck, I appreciate that so much but there’s so many better girls throwing themselves at you and you’re going to waste them just to wait for me? I could make you wait years and I wouldn’t want that.” I explain placing my hands over his.

“I don’t want them other girls, I want you. You’re the most beautiful, loyal, caring, and bad ass girl I’ve ever met. I will wait as long as you want me to if it means I can have you. Just please tell me you feel the same.” he begs his eyes searching my face for any sign of feeling the same.

“I do Buck, I have for a while.” I admit a small smile making its way to my lips. Bucky gently strokes his thumb across my bottom lip before pulling me in for a sweet, loving kiss. It was suddenly like it was just the pair of us that existed, nobody mattering in that moment but us two. Bucky pulled away keeping his hands on my face, placing his forehead against mine. “I got you, doll” he says before pulling me into his chest resting his chin on my head, wrapping his arms around my shoulders tightly; sighing contently.

“I got you too, Buck.” I reply wrapping my arms around his waist and smiling contently to myself.

“Let’s get home to the punk before he can’t help but lead himself to another alley huh.” Bucky says whilst linking our arms together and directing us both out of the park.

“We should probably check the alleys on our way back Buck.” I suggest

“Glad we're on the same page doll.” Bucky chuckles.

So, It’s the first of many chapters🤩 I’m so so excited!! Just wanted to give a shout out to @i-write-bucky and @jbarness for proof reading this for me!! Angels🤩❤️

[olicitysecretsanta]

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

A Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift for Erin ( @canadianbeauty2 ).

 I hope you enjoy this fluffy Meet-cute! (Playlist will be posted with the story on AO3.)

xoxo Meegan ( @it-was-a-red-heeler, cfcureton)

“But—“ “I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do.” The ticket agent didn’t look sorry. She looked more anxious than anything, and who could blame her? The skies outside the airport terminal were actually turning green. Felicity huffed a frustrated sigh. “What about tomorrow?” A snarky smile appeared and then vanished from the other woman’s face. “The airport won’t be open tomorrow. Or the next day. We’ll be lucky to be operational by the end of the week.” She stuck a hand on her hip behind the counter. “I suggest you find a hotel to hunker down in. Preferably on a high floor.”

The woman looked away then, back to her paperwork, back to shutting down her terminal so she and her fellow employees could skedaddle home as soon as they were given the go ahead. Felicity swallowed a very explicit swear word. She knew eastern seaboard hurricanes weren’t uncommon this time of year, she just never imagined one would hit while she happened to be in town. Sure, the labs at Wayne Enterprises had seemed empty these last couple of days, but she’d been too busy to ask why, and what little she’d been outside the weather hadn’t seemed all that threatening. It rained all the time in Gotham. By the time she’d realized she should get out of Dodge all the outbound flights that could make it before the storm hit had departed and her return ticket was useless; refunds weren’t an option for cancellations due to weather. Which she’d just learned. Felicity snatched the handle of her rolling bag and yanked it up as she spun on her heel—there had to be another solution to this problem—and walked straight into a solid wall. Wearing a plaid shirt. “Oof,” she said, staggering back a step with her glasses knocked askew. The wall had a hand, and it reached out to cover hers on the handle of the suitcase, stopping her in case she fell. “You okay?” The wall had a nice voice. Too bad she was not in the mood to appreciate it. “I’m fine. Sorry.” “No problem. Did you have any luck?” “None.” Felicity set her glasses right and finally looked up. The wall had piercing blue eyes, a good amount of scruff, and tousled hair that was either perfectly haphazard or intensively styled. The head tilt was a nice touch. “Are you trying to get out too?” she asked. “No, I just like hanging out at airports during natural disasters.” He shrugged both shoulders the slightest bit. “It’s a hobby.” Great. A comedian. She rolled her eyes internally and steered around him, determined not to let anything distract her from finding another way out of this city. The click of her heels was almost the only sound as she marched through the echoing terminal to the car rental counter. Only one employee manned the long line of counter space; he was at the very end, of course. He looked up with bored eyes as Felicity approached. “I need a car, please.” The clerk regarded her briefly before shuffling through a stack of papers. “You’re in luck. I have one left.” She sighed with relief even as she heard the zing of suitcase wheels approaching from behind. She couldn’t help glancing that direction to get a look at the poor bastard who’d just missed out on escaping the city. It was the wall. The paperwork slapped onto the counter as Felicity handed over her credit card and snatched up a pen, eager to get on the road. She was halfway through initialing all the boxes when the machine beeped and she heard the clerk grunt. “Your card’s declined.” “What?” He tossed it back on the counter. “Looks like it’s expired,” he offered by way of explanation. Dread flooded her veins. Oh, Frack. She could picture the new one, sitting on her kitchen counter at home. She’d meant to activate it before she left. The clerk must’ve read the expression on her face because he shot her a mildly incredulous look. “You don’t have another one?” “No,” she moaned. “I only carry one.” She heard the guy behind her shift his weight. “We take cash,” the clerk offered. “Here.” A hand reached around her from behind and laid a card on top of her paperwork. Felicity’s eyes went wide. “No, I—“ “We both need out of here ASAP. There’s only one car. We can share.” She whipped around so fast her ponytail flew. He met her eyes and smiled benignly. Felicity’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, fish-like, as she tried to come up with an excuse to say no. She saw his eyes shift to glance at her mouth and her spine straightened in indignation. “I don’t think it would be appropriate, under the circumstances.” His smile never faltered. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think you have much of a choice. The airport’s closing, and no hotel will take your expired credit card either.” He spread his hands and waited. Felicity’s shoulders dropped, defeated, and she turned to finish signing her name. “Fine. But I’m driving.” ————————————————————————————————– The car was easy to spot in the otherwise empty lot. It was sporty. And red. Felicity suppressed an eye roll. He fit both their bags in the trunk—barely—without comment and waited patiently for her to unlock the doors before squeezing into the passenger seat. She was putting the key in the ignition when it hit her. “This isn’t going to work.” “Why not?” “It’s a stick shift. I can’t drive a manual.” The dread was back. She held her breath to keep from crying and scanned the empty space around her, praying this was just a crazy mistake and there was another vehicle waiting for her. “Can you?” she asked, still looking around. “Can I what?” “Drive a stick.” “I can.” Did he sound a little hesitant? Felicity looked at him. “So I’ll go back and add your name to the rental agreement and then you can drive. C’mon.” She was already unbuckling her belt, but he hadn’t moved. “What’s the matter?” “I don’t have my license.” “You’re traveling out of town but you don’t have your license?” He shook his head no once. “How does that even happen? Never mind. We don’t have time. What do I do first?” He stared at her, dumbfounded. “You want out of Gotham before this hurricane hits? Then teach me how to drive a manual.” He studied her for half a second, expressionless. “It would help if I knew your name.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners in a frown as she studied him. “First names only.” He nodded acceptance soberly. “I’m Felicity.” “Oliver. Nice to meet you.” “Tell me.” “Okay. Before you turn the key, make sure you’re in neutral. The pedal all the way to the left is the clutch…” ————————————————————————————————– “Do you learn everything this fast?” “Probably. Why?” “No reason. It’s just…impressive.” “Thanks. I think.” Felicity rolled up to the stop sign at the entrance to the parking lot and looked both directions to check for traffic. “And we’re off.” “Wait!” His hand fell to cover hers on the gear shift and she jumped in surprise. “Where are we going?” “To the nearest airport that’s still open.” “No, I mean ultimately. Where are you heading?” Felicity studied him. What if he was up to no good, this one? Her mother hadn’t raised a fool. Still… “Starling City,” she offered after a beat. His eyes lit with surprise. “Great! Me too.” “Huh.” “What?” She squinted at him, suspicious. “Nothing.” She checked both ways again and eased the sporty little car out into the street. “Let’s go.” Oliver looked uneasy. “You’re sure you have to fly?” “Fly? Yes. It’s how I got out here, so it’s how I’m getting back.” “But I can’t.” The gears ground a little. “I think you missed second.” Felicity grunted. “Fully aware.” They pulled up to a stop light at the entrance to the airport and waited for it to turn green. “Do I get on the highway from here?” “Am I supposed to know?” “You’re the navigator.” Oliver sighed but logged into his phone. “We should have a plan.” “We have a plan. Closest open airport. That’s the plan.” “What about a train?” “A train?!” “Yes. We could take the train.” “Like hobos?!” “There are still passenger trains in the 21st century, Felicity.” “Nope. No way. I have to be in Starling by Friday, no exceptions. I can’t poke across country by TRAIN.” “Okay, hear me out. Today’s Monday. It’s a twelve hour drive to Chicago. I have a buddy who’ll put us up for the night. From there it’s two days by train. Or,” he waved a hand around, “you can get yourself a flight outta O’Hare. Either way we’re back in Starling by Thursday at the latest. Straight ahead to the on ramp.” The light turned, and they rolled forward while Felicity made weird faces and fought with the gear shift. “Ungh.” “Just think about it. The closest major airport that’s still open is probably in Pennsylvania anyway. We’ve got time.” Traffic was heavy but moving as the last evacuees headed out of Gotham. They entered the highway and picked up speed, and Felicity shifted into fifth for the first time. “Smooth. Good job.” “Thanks. So tell me, when you showed up at the airport this morning you were planning to, what, use your boyish charm to get on a flight without government-issued ID?” “First of all, I’ve never heard anyone younger than my mother use the phrase ‘boyish charm’.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “Second?” “Second, I didn’t lose my license until late last night, so I haven’t exactly had a lot of time to come up with an alternate plan.” “No passport?” “Didn’t expect to leave the country so didn’t bring it.” “Guess that rules out taking any shortcuts through Canada.” “Funny.” Ten miles passed below the tires with neither of them speaking. Felicity watched him from the corner of her eye; he had his shirt sleeves rolled up and his jeans cuffed. Casual but very tidy. How his profile could be just as good as looking at him head on she would never know. Normal people never got that lucky. His thumbs danced around his phone screen before he glanced up. Her eyes flicked away and she prayed she hadn’t been caught looking. “My friend is willing to put us up if we decide to drive to Chicago.” Felicity’s nails tapped the steering wheel in a rapid pattern while she mulled over her choices. “Okay. We’re heading west in any event, so see if you can find me a flight from anywhere closer than Chicago. Otherwise we’ll plan to stay with your friend. Deal?” Oliver nodded once and got to work on his phone. ————————————————————————————————– She’d expected—probably irrationally—traffic to thin dramatically as soon as they left the city, but the lines of cars and trucks only increased as they caught up to the myriad of people who had left the path of the storm in a reasonable time frame. Before long the westbound lanes had slowed to a crawl. “Ugh, okay. Tell me again why people drive manuals on purpose,” she muttered, down shifting as taillights lit up in front of her. The sky was no longer green here, but the rain had started a few miles back and the air felt heavy. “Bad news, I’m afraid. No flights until we get to Cleveland, and those are going fast. It’s only five more hours to Chicago from there, and a free night’s stay.” Felicity spared him a glance and then wished she hadn’t; those eyebrows lifted in question and the faint puppy dog expression were her undoing. She sighed like a martyr. “Fine. But I get my own bed.” ————————————————————————————————– Hours passed. She discovered they liked the same music, or rather Oliver seemed to have no opinion on her tastes either way, so she didn’t have to pull rank to choose the radio station. He filled the car without asking, and always brought back some snack or treat she didn’t ask for when he returned from paying. Interstate traffic was back to normal, mostly just them and the big trucks, and Felicity was so grateful not to have to think about when to shift she wanted to fist pump. “I could drive,” he offered once. “That wouldn’t be legal.” “It would only be a problem if we got pulled over, which I would never let happen.” “Pulled over or involved in an accident.” “Well that’s morbid.” “That’s reality. I prefer being realistic. It keeps you from being disappointed.” Oliver was quiet then, staying so still she risked a glance at him. He was studying her. “Have you always been this way?” “What way?” “Closed off. Cynical.” Felicity’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I am NOT closed off. I have lots of friends. Many friends. A few…select…close friends. And ‘realistic’ and ‘cynical’ are two very different things.” “Is that so.” “Yes. People find me quite charming.” “People.” She shot him a look. “Historically.” This conversation was going nowhere good very quickly. Felicity could feel the beginnings of a babble bubbling up from her chest, and she didn’t dare let that happen. “We need to find a place to stop.” He said it in such an authoritative way she took her eyes off the road to stare at him. The nerve of him, ordering her like that. “Look, Mister—“ “Felicity, you’ve been driving practically non-stop for hours. You need to eat.” She waved the half-eaten candy bar in her lap at him in illustration, but he only huffed an annoyed sigh. “Real food. You need an actual meal, and time to move around. And relax.” “In my family, the driver gets to decide when and where we stop.” “Well in mine, the person paying makes the final call.” She was in the process of passing a semi so she could only throw a quick glare at him, but she didn’t miss the raised eyebrow he was giving her back. “The next exit has restaurants.” “Fine. But only if it’s fast food.” ————————————————————————————————– He chose a sit-down restaurant. Felicity sat on her side of the booth and tried to hold on to her annoyance, but everything on the menu looked amazing and she was so relieved not to be moving she wanted to weep with gratitude. When she glanced up Oliver was staring at her over his menu. “What?” “Nothing.” His eyes flicked down. “What are you going to get?” She watched him purse his lips as he considered. “The Monte Cristo, I think. You?” “An omelet sounds good. I can always go for breakfast.” He grunted agreement without looking up. The server came and went, and then Oliver leaned back and stretched his arms out across the back of the seat. He had an impressive wingspan, she noted. And those lovely ropey veins peeking out from under his sleeves— “So what’s waiting in Starling that has you rushing home?” Small talk now? Great. Okay. Felicity took a sip of water to stall. “I have, um, a presentation Friday. A present—a pres—an interview.” She shrugged and tried to pretend her face wasn’t turning red. “I have an interview.” “An interview.” “Yes.” “For a job.” “Yes for a job. What else?” His brow knit in concentration. “You just didn’t seem sure.” “It’s very, um, it’s a big step for me. You know, a challenge. Growth.” She shook her head enough to flick her ponytail over her shoulder and couldn’t meet his eye. “I’m excited about it.” “Yes. You look thrilled.” If this conversation didn’t end immediately Felicity was going to actually die. “I’m gonna go wash my hands,” she declared, already scooting out of her seat. The food was on the table by the time she returned, and they ate with little comment. Oliver made her get dessert, even after she protested that she was disgustingly full. When the check was paid he ushered her from the restaurant but snagged her arm to drag her three laps around the building to shake everything out. “Anything else, Coach?” she quipped as she rounded the front of the car to unlock the doors. He rolled his eyes, but she also thought she caught the hint of a smile as he ducked to get in on his side. The next few hours passed in a blur. Oliver quizzed her on trivia he unearthed on his phone, and once she’d explained the concept of Mad Libs to him, he went searching for those too. The sun was beginning to set when they pulled into the last rest stop before the final push to Chicago. “C’mon, Felicity, get those knees up,” he ordered, jogging in place in front of her on the sidewalk by the restrooms. “Oliver, this isn’t funny.” “You don’t wanna get a blood clot from sitting too long in one position.” “People are staring.” “Let ‘em.” Felicity called him a name under her breath but bounced around as instructed. Across the parking lot a trucker blew his horn in appreciation and she threw a hand out in that general direction. “You see what you’ve done?!” Oliver grinned and the sight of it made her a little light headed. She told herself it was all the jogging. A little before 10pm they pulled up to a big house in a nice suburban neighborhood; a McMansion, her mother would call it. Fittingly, Felicity killed the car in the driveway by accident, but neither of them commented as it shuddered to a halt, preferring to stare out the windshield at nothing. “That…was a long day,” she said finally. “Agreed.” He sighed. “Don’t forget the hand brake.” “Yup.” Oliver carried her suitcase up to the porch without being asked as a tall handsome stranger waited at the door. The two men hugged unabashedly while she stood a step below them, looking away discretely to allow them their moment. “Tommy, Felicity.” Oliver made the introductions with a motion of his head, his arms being full. Tommy smiled and stepped back to allow them to pass. “Welcome. It’s not often we get hurricane refugees this far west.” Tommy’s smile was rakish but friendly. “Guest room’s up and to the right. Bathroom’s across the hall.” Oliver set his suitcase down in the foyer and gestured with hers. “I’ll put this up there for you.” Felicity saw Tommy’s eyebrow twitch up in surprise and suddenly felt weird and exhausted and done with everything. “Thank you for your hospitality. I’m gonna go up now.” She caught Oliver glancing back at her from the stairs but ignored him in favor of shaking her host’s hand and wishing him a good night. “You okay?” Oliver asked quietly as she trailed him into the bedroom. “Fine. Just tired.” “You did an amazing job today. I still can’t believe how fast you picked up driving a stick.” “Thank you…for paying my way here…and for finding us a bed. Beds. A bed and a couch. Whatever.” Oliver chuckled at her accidental innuendo, but she could tell he was worn out too. “Good night, Felicity. Sleep well. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything.” He showed himself out and closed the door as he went, and for the first time since the morning she thought about how crazy it was that she was trusting this virtual stranger—and now his friend—with her wellbeing. Felicity got ready for bed and was out by the time her head hit the pillow. Below her the low drone of male voices catching up carried on late into the night. ————————————————————————————————– It took Felicity a full minute the next morning to remember why she was waking up in a strange bedroom. “Oh God,” she muttered to no one as she collected her shower things and peeked out into the hall before scurrying to the bath. The house was silent. Felicity repacked her suitcase and perched on the bed to collect herself and check for flights out of O’Hare. She could get enough cash out of an ATM to cover a plane ticket, and then she’d arrange to repay Oliver for her share of the car rental and her meals. She could be home by dinner tonight. Easy peasy. A door downstairs closed and male voices drifted up the stairs, so she set her phone aside without picking a flight and went in search of breakfast. The house was nice, a little on the bachelor pad side, maybe, but clean enough. It appeared Tommy lived here alone. The man in question was perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island in sweats and a tee shirt, laughing at something Oliver was saying as he scrambled eggs in a skillet. It was such a domestic scene Felicity thought maybe she’d been under the wrong impression about her traveling companion. It was a strangely disappointing discovery. “Morning,” Tommy offered brightly. “Pull up a stool.” “How do you like your eggs?” Oliver asked. His hair was mussed from sleep, but even the flat spot on the side was endearingly sexy. Stop it, she admonished herself sharply. He’s gay. “I’m not, actually. Scrambled okay, or would you like another omelet?”

Oliver turned away smoothly to plate the current batch as Felicity’s jaw unhinged. Fracking frack, she’d said that out loud. Tommy was grinning openly at her. “He is awfully pretty, isn’t he? But he’s a total ladies’ man, I promise you.” Tommy gave her a bold wink. “We both are.” “Easy,” Oliver warned gently, sliding a plate of eggs and bacon to his friend and turning back to start again. “Scrambled’s fine,” Felicity muttered, mortified, from behind her hands. Next to her Tommy chortled. “I’m putting peppers and onions in it, just so you know. You don’t eat enough vegetables.” Felicity’s face popped up from behind her hands to protest. “Hey—“ He pointed at her without looking away from the stove. “Corn Nuts do not count. We’ve talked about this.” She huffed a sigh and looked away, only to find Tommy watching her with one curious eyebrow lifted. When her plate and his were ready Oliver circled the counter and threw a leg over the bar stool on Tommy’s other side. “Made up your mind about flying or taking the train?” Felicity stabbed her eggs. “I should fly. I have to finish my presentation.” “Plenty of time for that on a train.” “I need to fly. Besides, a train trip sounds expensive. I can’t ask you to cover both of us going.” Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know who he is, right?” “Shut up, Tommy. It’s not a problem, but I’ll do whatever you want. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Felicity didn’t miss the warning look he shot his friend before setting his empty plate in the sink and walking out of the room, but Tommy flipped on the small tv at the end of the counter to watch sports and ended any chance of her asking questions. She hauled her suitcase downstairs on her own and was sitting primly on a leather ottoman in Tommy’s living room when Oliver reappeared in a dark blue sweater with just a hint of white tee shirt sticking out underneath. Felicity pressed her lips together firmly to keep her thoughts on the inside. “Do you have time before your flight to drop me at the train station? If not, Tommy said he could do it.” “I—oh. I, um, I haven’t picked a flight yet.” Oliver stood and considered her silently for a moment. “No?” She shook her head, feeling more ridiculous by the second. She’d made her choice, now she needed to follow through. “I can drop you at the station on my way,” she decided. He nodded at the same time Tommy materialized over his shoulder. “You kids all set?” Felicity stood and stepped forward as Oliver shifted their bags onto the porch. “Thank you for everything, Tommy. It was great to meet you.” He bussed her cheek and then smiled down at her. “See ya around, I’m sure.” She felt her brow contract in confusion but didn’t ask him to clarify since Oliver was back and the two of them were busy hugging and back slapping their goodbye. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah? And say hi to your folks for me.” “Will do. Thanks, Tommy.” “Any time, brother.” Felicity groaned under her breath when she got into the damned stick shift car but started it on the first try all the same. Oliver looked impressed. The ride out of the suburbs was mostly silent save for Oliver’s directions. He was a good navigator and seemed to know the city’s layout well. Felicity tried to imagine dropping him at the curb and driving on to the airport, never to see him again. She took a deep breath in through her nose and out her mouth before making her decision. “Is there, um, a rental car return near the train station?” ————————————————————————————————– Felicity waited with the bags and people watched while Oliver bought the tickets. The train station was certainly an interesting place. He was running a hand through his hair as he returned, but she didn’t know him well enough yet to figure out if that meant bad news was coming with him. “Did you get tickets?” “Yep. It’s boarding now, we should hurry.” “Is everything okay?” “What? Oh, sure. It’s fine. It has its own bathroom, which is nice.” “It?” There was a pregnant pause as Oliver grabbed the handle of his suitcase but wouldn’t meet her eye. “It,” he repeated. “They only had one bedroom compartment left. It has two beds,” he added quickly, already wincing at her potential explosion. Felicity could only shake her head. “This is like bad fan fiction,” she muttered to the air. She trailed him through the station, watching him check the train ticket and follow the overhead signs to their platform. The closer they got to their destination the more crowded it became; other travelers jostled them as they moved either to or away from the waiting trains. And then Oliver was glancing back at her and reaching a hand out to grab her and pull her closer, not allowing them to get separated. Felicity stuck close, one hand on her suitcase handle and the other held protectively inside his, her mind a blank as she tried to process this new development. His broad shoulders made a great shield, preventing her from being bumped or stepped on as they negotiated the crowd on their way to the correct platform. She could smell him from this range, a mix of an understated cologne—or maybe deodorant—and whatever detergent he used. He stopped suddenly and she face planted softly against his sleeve with a small “oof”. It made her want to giggle. “You okay?” “Fine,” she grinned, slightly loopy on his scent and the feel of his warm firm grip on her hand. “This is it.” She peeked out around his (very nice) bicep at the big silver train in front of them. Oliver looked back at her and winked. “Here we go.” ————————————————————————————————– Felicity realized she was staring as he lifted her suitcase up onto the shelf and made herself look away. If she didn’t get it together this was going to be two very long days. She smoothed a hand over her tightly cinched ponytail and sighed. “Well, what do you think?” The room had two twin sized bunks–the bottom of which converted to a couch during the day–and an upholstered armchair, a window, and a door to a minuscule bathroom. That was it. “It’s…small.” Like, a mobile prison you have to pay to stay in small, she added in her head. “We don’t have to spend all our time here, you know. There’s a dining car for meals, and an observation car. You can work on your presentation interview thing while you watch the world go by. You’ll love it. Trust me.” This was so not ideal, and she wanted to be mad, or at least annoyed, but she was finding she did trust him, dammit. “Do you prefer to be on top or bottom?” Felicity stiffened, her face going hot. “I beg your pardon?” Oliver huffed a laugh. “The bunks. Would you like the top or the bottom?” “Oh. Um.” She studied them in what she hoped was a thoughtful manner, though she was really just trying to stop blushing. Honestly, the idea of sleeping in the bottom bunk had always made her nervous. What if the person above suddenly fell through? Ugh. It gave her shivers. “Top,” she decided. Oliver nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer. “You hungry? Thirsty?” He looked so earnest  Felicity almost laughed. “I could eat,” she decided. “Lead the way.” The train started moving while they were walking down the hall; Felicity yelped as she lost her balance and Oliver shot an arm out to steady her. This time she was the one to reach for his hand and he took it immediately. They stayed that way until he ushered her in front of him at the entrance to the dining car and they were shown to their table. Felicity scooted into her side of the booth with an eye on the neighborhoods of Chicago sliding past the window as the train picked up speed on its way out of the city. Heading west. Heading home. The thought filled her with something other than anxiety for the first time since she realized a hurricane was bearing down on Gotham. “What?” Her head swiveled back to Oliver in surprise. “What, what?” “What has you smiling?” She shrugged and tried not to blush as the server handed them their menus. “Just excited, I guess. I’ve never traveled by train before, unless it was the subway. You seem like you have, though.” Oliver nodded without looking up from his menu but saved any further explanation until after they’d received their drinks and ordered lunch. When the server had moved on, he leaned his elbows on the table and gave her his full attention. “I’ve known Tommy for as long as I can remember. His family and mine were very close when we were growing up. But then his mother died when we were nine years old. His father—“ his eyes dropped to the table—“was never the same, after. When we were twelve he moved them to Chicago, so the next summer and every one after that my parents let me take the train—this route, actually—out to stay with them for a month.” “That’s why you know Chicago so well.” He flashed her a quick grin, but he was clearly revisiting the past. “They lived downtown back then, and Malcolm was not a vigilant parent. We had the run of the city from an early age.” He huffed a laugh. “Probably way too early, actually.” His soup and her salad showed up, so he paused his story to let them both take a few bites. “We picked the same college here in the Midwest so we could be roommates. It made my dad furious that I didn’t go to his alma mater, but…” He shrugged. “Se la vie?” “Exactly.” “When’s the last time you saw Tommy?” “Oh, we try to get together once or twice a year. We meet up to ski or travel when we get the chance. Europe, Southeast Asia, wherever.” “That’s pretty good though, considering.” She grinned, suddenly feeling flirty. “Do you still take the train?” He smiled too. “No. It’s been many years since I rode the train.” His eyes lifted to scan the space around him before settling back on her. “It’s nice to be back.” Their entrees arrived and they both focused on making a start before they resumed their conversation. “What about you? Where did you go for college?” he asked. “Boston. But I grew up in Las Vegas.” “Mmm, I love Vegas.” “Yeah? You wouldn’t say that if you lived there.” “Probably not, but that’s true of a lot of places.” He took another bite of his sandwich before he went on. “So how did you end up in Starling?” Felicity had been munching happily on her burger, but now her brow crinkled into a frown. “A job opportunity. Or at least that was the idea. Let’s just say it didn’t go as planned.” Oliver quirked a brow. “Hence the impending job interview?” “Sort of.” “I feel like I’m missing something.” Felicity sighed and set her burger down. “I thought I had my dream job lined up in Starling, so I moved across the country only to bomb my interview. Bomb isn’t the right word. I nuked it.” She paused to illustrate an explosion with her hands, complete with sound effects. Oliver winced in sympathy. “I’d already spent the money to move, so I had to stay and find something else. The job I got has been a soul-crushing experience, to say the least.” “That sucks. I’m sorry. But hopefully this interview on Friday will get you something better. Something you love.” Felicity turned her attention to the view out the window, but she wasn’t really seeing it. “Maybe,” she said finally. ————————————————————————————————– He hadn’t been exaggerating about her loving the observation car. It was crowded, but Oliver managed to find them two seats near the back and motioned for her to sit. The chairs were large and comfortable and swiveled so they could be turned toward the view out the windows. The windows themselves carried on up into the roof, which let in lots of sunlight and beautiful views of the clear blue sky. “Wow,” she managed finally. She’d brought her laptop but for several minutes only sat with it on her knees while she watched the scenery flying past. Oliver chuckled his agreement, leaning back in the neighboring chair and stretching out his legs to cross at the ankles. Felicity made herself look away to get some work done while Oliver drifted off to sleep, but she found herself glancing up to peek at him from time to time. Since they were headed the same direction as the sun it stayed almost directly overhead through the afternoon, making her deliciously warm and sleepy, and eventually she stopped fighting it and curled up in her seat, work temporarily abandoned, to nap. His head was tilted her direction when she woke; it was obvious he’d been watching her sleep. She blinked at him a couple of times, clearing the cobwebs from her brain, and the corners of his mouth lifted briefly. “I like train travel,” she decided quietly, making his smile come back. She sat up and stretched before collecting the laptop she’d abandoned at her feet. “Get much work done?” “Not much,” she admitted. “But I finished the research in Gotham, so now I just have to write it up. Shouldn’t take long.” “You get out to Gotham a lot?” He showed no sign of being eager to leave their spot so Felicity folded herself back into her chair and swiveled further to face him. “Hardly ever. I called in a favor with a friend at Wayne Enterprises and managed to get some time in their labs.” She made a motion with her hand. “On the down low.” Oliver’s eyebrows lifted. “Sneaking around behind Bruce Wayne’s back? Impressive.” “It’s worse than that.” She grinned. “My friend IS Bruce Wayne.” His brow contracted then, and Felicity felt a thrilling little shiver run up her spine: Oliver was clearly a bit jealous. The frown only lasted a second and then he readjusted to sit up straight. “So what are you working on?” Felicity fought the urge to glance over her shoulder before speaking. It had been her secret for so long; even Bruce didn’t know exactly what she was working on. The best policy, she decided as she opened her mouth, was to be as vague as possible. “It’s a bio stimulant implant the size of a microchip with a basically limitless battery that will hopefully help people with traumatic spinal injuries walk again.” They both realized what she’d said at the same time. Oliver’s brows shot up into his hairline; hers did too, but for an entirely different reason. “Frack,” she whispered under her breath. Oliver chuckled. “It’s okay, Felicity, your secret’s safe with me.” He shook his head in wonder. “That sounds amazing. Where did you say you went to college?” “I didn’t. MIT.” His expression of wonder didn’t change. “Well I don’t know what company you interviewed with, but they were crazy not to hire you.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “You had to be in that interview. Ugh.” “What was so bad about it?” He leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “Run me through it. Break it down.” “What, like sports?” He grinned wickedly and she sighed. “I can’t believe you’re gonna Monday Morning Quarterback me.” Oliver laughed. “Only if you want.” He glanced up behind her head at something. “You thirsty? We could get a drink before dinner.” Felicity decided a little alcohol might help dull the pain from the memory and nodded. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to slip her arm through his as they strolled to the club car. ————————————————————————————————– “So. The interview.” Felicity scooped up her wine glass and took a healthy swallow to fortify herself just as their appetizer appeared at the table. He raised an eyebrow. “You promised.” “I did no such thing!” Oliver indicated she should get first dibs on the mozzarella sticks before dipping his head to make her look at him. Felicity rolled her eyes dramatically and huffed a beleaguered sigh. “Okay.” She said it around a mouthful of cheese, dropping the remainder of her first stick back onto her plate and wiping her hands. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He grinned in that way he had, close-mouthed and dimples showing, and she almost choked on her bite; her eyes bugged as she swallowed. “First of all, the power went out in my hotel the morning of the interview, so—“ she waved a hand around her head—“my hair was still wet when I got there. And I’m pretty sure there was shampoo in it.” He chuckled and she pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t laugh.” “Sorry. Please continue.” “You may have noticed I tend to babble when I’m nervous.” “It has not escaped my attention.” She nodded agreement. “And one of the heads of the company, I’m talking a VIP, was conducting the interview.” Felicity took another bite. “This is a woman I’ve seen on the cover of tech magazines. Sitting across the table from me. In Louboutins so new I could smell them.” Again with the smirk. He was too much. “I have no idea what all I said to her during those fifteen minutes. I’m pretty sure I blacked out for some of it. To top it all off my tablet wouldn’t talk to their system, so my presentation wouldn’t run. I basically had to explain my bio stimulant idea in interpretive dance, which is not a good look for someone with multiple degrees in Computer Science.” Oliver groaned in sympathy but then leaned forward on his elbows. “All that sounds like purely bad luck. You weren’t incompetent, Felicity, just a—“ he waved a hand around before selecting his own mozzarella stick—“victim of circumstance. Did they give you any feedback afterward?” She nodded as she swallowed her bite. “They said it was my lack of experience, which I can’t fault. I was coming straight out of graduate school. The degree looks good, but it doesn’t make up for actual work in the trenches. I think if the interview itself had gone better I might’ve convinced them to overlook that and give me a chance.” “Well,” Oliver decided after a sip of beer, “it still doesn’t sound like you nuked it. And it seems like you have a second chance to show them what you can do.” His eyes flicked from the marinara dipping sauce up to her. “I assume that’s where you’re interviewing Friday?” Felicity squirmed under his gaze. “The interview is actually with my current employer. For a promotion.” Oliver studied her. “The soul-sucking one? Do you really want to do that?” “I’m not sure I have much of a choice.” She sighed and shook her head quickly, wanting to change the subject so she didn’t have to think about it. “I’ve never asked what you do for a living. What had you out in Gotham just before a hurricane?” Oliver took his time finishing his bite; stalling, she thought. “I work for my family’s company. I was out on the coast entertaining clients.” “Entertaining.” “Yes. You know, wine, women, and song. Stuff like that.” Felicity tried to keep a serious face but failed miserably. “Is that your only job? Entertaining?” She pulled her lips in to keep from laughing, but he caught her anyway and mock glared. “I have other roles. Ribbon cutting, check presentation. This particular one just happens to play into some of my strengths from college.” “I see. Did you major in Wine, Women, and Song?” The stern look he was giving her was ruined by the twinkle in his eye. He took a sip of beer and shrugged. “More or less.” Felicity focused on dunking her last stick in sauce. “Well, there are worse jobs, I suppose.” “Very true.” He paused. “But the older I get the more I wish they’d give me a chance to be more than a glorified party host.” They chewed in silence for a moment, sucked down into temporary melancholy over the current state of their careers. Oliver swallowed and caught her eye. “Another drink?” “God yes.” ————————————————————————————————– Amtrak, as it turned out, made a pretty good steak. It wasn’t exactly a candlelit dinner in an intimate setting, but there were linen tablecloths and real napkins. Also, the baked potatoes were huge. “I know I’ve said this five times already, but yum.” Felicity wiped her mouth and sighed in contentment. “Better than an airplane, then?” There was a gleam in his eye as he said it. “Better than an airplane.” Felicity smiled at him. This felt good. It felt right, crazy as it sounded, sharing a meal with this man she’d known less than 48 hours as they rolled across the country chasing the sunset. Of course, after two and a half glasses of wine everything felt right. She swayed gently in her seat but told herself it was the train and not the alcohol. Trains were sway-ee. “I don’t think that’s a word.” “What?” Oliver smiled at her, a kind of indulgent look that transformed his face and told her she was adorable, even when she couldn’t control her brain-to-mouth conduit. It crinkled the skin around his eyes and exposed his utterly fantastic cheekbones. He was— “You’ll give me a complex if you’re not careful,” he said softly, looking down and brushing a crumb from the tablecloth. “Wha—what?” He chuckled. “You’re thinking out loud again. It might be time to call it a night.” “Really?” Felicity pouted. “Wait til you sleep on a train. It’s fantastic. Very soothing.” “Are you going to sleep with me?” Oliver coughed. “Sorry, what?” Felicity felt her face turn red. Her filter—or whatever passed for it in her brain—was gone. Washed away in a sea of red wine. The Red Wine Sea. She giggled self-consciously. “I didn’t mean SLEEP with you. I meant sleep with you. Sleep, sleep. Not…the other thing.” He was already scooting out of the booth and reaching for her hand, but he was smiling. “I know what you meant, Felicity. You’re safe with me.” She was on her feet suddenly, and close to him. So close she had to tip her head back to look at him. He was tall. And looking deep into her eyes. “You know that, right?” Felicity swallowed. “Know what?” She’d lost the thread of this conversation, but she didn’t really care. Everything was fuzzy and nice and she felt like giggling again. Oliver turned away with her hand in his but she pulled against him, leaning back on her heels and making him stop and turn to look over his shoulder. “I want to do something first.” ————————————————————————————————– The sunset was just a faint pink line separating the sky from the earth by the time they stepped into the observation car. The lights were dimmed, and the car was practically empty. Above them, unencumbered out here by light pollution, the night sky had exploded with stars; Felicity gasped when she saw it. Her hand slipped down from his arm and their fingers entwined as they took in the view. “It’s…” “Remarkable,” he finished, but when she glanced over, Oliver was looking at her, not the stars. ————————————————————————————————– Felicity awoke slowly, feeling fuzzy and parched and a little achy. The sunlight peeking around the edges of the window shade let her know it was probably time to be up, but the constant movement of the train was so comforting, she was tempted to let it lull her back to sleep. Wait. Train? Her eyes popped back open and she stared at the ceiling as she tried to puzzle out why the hell she was on a train. Train. Oliver. Oliver! She peeked her head slowly over the side of the bed, but the room appeared to be empty. His bed had been slept in, at least. Felicity sighed and ran her fingers through her hair and then flung the covers off and set about getting out—down? She had no memory of getting UP—from bed. She moved slowly down the ladder; the last thing she needed on this trip was a visit to the ER. How that would even be accomplished from a moving train she had no idea. Did the ambulance have to match speed, racing alongside as they passed her across on a stretcher? That didn’t seem right. She stopped thinking about it because thinking made her head hurt. A cursory inspection told her she was unharmed and dressed in her pjs. Had she dressed herself or… Too much. Too much to think about. Felicity squeezed into the ridiculously tiny bathroom—it was like camping at 60 miles per hour—to take care of things and put her hair in a haphazard ponytail. Her suitcase was basically unreachable on its high shelf in her current condition, but Oliver’s denim jacket was laying over the arm of the chair, waiting to be worn. Calling out to her. Felicity slipped her arms into the giant sleeves and wiggled her feet into her shoes. She found him in the observation car, in the same seat he’d occupied the day before. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, cradling a cup of coffee in both hands. Oliver looked up as she approached and smiled softly; he looked exhausted. She opened her mouth to say hi but her eyes raised to the view out the window first and all thoughts vanished: sunrise over the northern plains had turned the world into a canvas of light and texture that, even hungover, she wanted to drink in. “Oh…” “Pretty cool, huh?” “It’s…” “I know.” The tone of his voice finally brought her around. Felicity dropped her gaze to his face and tried to process the way he was looking at her. Oliver waved to the empty chair next to him and she tucked herself up into it. When his eyes skimmed over the jacket she blushed. “Couldn’t get my suitcase down,” she explained. “It’s okay. Looks good on you.” She was swimming in it, so probably not, but it was sweet of him to say. He offered his coffee to her without comment, and any other day she would be sorely tempted, but her stomach flipped and she blanched and waved him off. Also, it appeared to be black; how someone could drink coffee with no cream or sugar or seasonal flavoring was beyond her. His mouth quirked into a brief smile. “A little rough this morning?” Felicity attempted a nod and immediately regretted it. “Mmhmm,” she offered instead. If she didn’t move her head, she could keep looking at the beautiful scenery without wanting to die. “What…exactly…happened last night? After the observation car?” Oliver took a sip of coffee. “I was wondering when you lost the thread.” His fingers rotated the paper cup as he spoke. “After the observation car you talked me into going back to the club car where you had one more drink and then sang karaoke for an hour.” Felicity cringed. “I didn’t know they even had karaoke on trains.” “They don’t.” Her eyes tracked slowly to him; he was expressionless except for an amused twinkle in his eye. “Oh.” “Yeah.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I am…SO sorry.” Oliver chuckled. “It’s okay. It was cute. The bartender was pretty good at harmonizing. You made a good team.” “Oh. God.” “Hey. Look at me.” She cracked open the eye closest to him. “It’s okay, Felicity. I didn’t mind taking care of you.” “Really?” “Really.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Ready to go get your suitcase down?” She unfolded from the seat and let him stabilize her as they moved through the car. “I still have questions.” “Shoot.” “How did I get into my pjs?” “You did that.” “And into bed?” “Well, I did that. You gave it a good try first, though.” “Oh God, Oliver.” He chuckled as he held the door for her. “You were adorable. Even the conductor thought so.” ————————————————————————————————– Felicity’s stomach rallied in time for lunch and then she climbed—unassisted—back into her bunk and fired up her laptop. She finished her presentation while Oliver napped below her; she would pause every few minutes to listen for his soft snores, and once she leaned out over the edge to look at him. He’d confessed over their meal that he’d feared she’d fall out of bed in the middle of the night and break her neck, so he’d hardly slept. He claimed she’d vehemently opposed the idea of sleeping on the bottom bunk when he suggested it, which had eventually brought the conductor down to check on all the commotion. She blushed fiercely every time she thought about it. Oliver stirred and sat up just as she saved her finished presentation and shut down her computer. “C’mon,” he said softly. “Let’s take a walk.” They grabbed a soda in the club car and wandered back to the observation car. The view out the windows had changed to oil fields and miles and miles of freight cars. Felicity jumped in surprise the first time a train passed them going the other direction at sixty miles an hour and they both laughed. Dinner was quiet; neither of them drank. They found little reason for small talk, preferring to say everything necessary with just looks and smiles. Every time Felicity thought of their arrival in Starling City the following morning she got an achy feeling in her chest, like the end of something precious was approaching. They sat up late in the club car and didn’t return to their compartment until almost midnight. Oliver waited in the hallway to give her privacy so she could get ready and tucked into her bunk before going to bed himself. They lay in the dark for several minutes before Felicity spoke up. “Oliver?” “Yeah?” “I have a confession.” “Okay.” “The presentation isn’t for my interview Friday. I don’t work at some fancy company. I work at a Tech Village. It was the only job I could find. I’m interviewing for a promotion to Assistant Manager.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “The research on the implant is, well…I spent my entire savings on the plane ticket to Gotham just to prove to myself that my idea isn’t crazy. That I’m not actually a failure. I…I just thought you should know.” “Felicity, I think your idea is brilliant. And I think you should approach that first company and ask for another chance to prove yourself. You owe it to yourself to find out if things could be different.” She nodded into the dark but didn’t dare try to answer; a tear crept down her cheek. Below her Oliver sighed. “I have a confession too.” “‘Kay.” She sniffed discreetly. “I didn’t lose my driver’s license in Gotham. Not the way you think, anyway. The night before we met, I was entertaining clients, like I said, but things got out of hand and I ended up getting arrested. I spent several hours in the city jail and had my license revoked. As soon as we get to Starling, I have to come clean to my family and go to court and probably do community service.” He sighed into the dark and she turned over, tempted to climb down the ladder and give him a hug. “I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you.” “Thank you,” she whispered, though it didn’t seem adequate for the way she felt. “You’re the one who deserves the thanks. I went to that airport having no idea how I would get home. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably still be in Gotham somewhere, riding out a hurricane.” “Well I couldn’t have escaped without your credit card and your crash course in manual transmissions. No pun intended.” She heard him huff a laugh. “So really I should be thanking you.” “I guess we made a pretty good team.” She smiled into the dark. “Yeah, I guess so.” “Good night, Felicity.” “Night.” Far off in the distance, the mournful shriek of the train whistle announced their arrival at another crossing. ————————————————————————————————– Oliver Queen sat at his desk and stared out the window at the building across the street. The woman who had the office opposite him kept a variety of plants in the window and was giving them their daily drink of water. “Oliver? Your mother would like to see you.” “Okay. Thanks.” He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his suit jacket. It was only four floors; he took the stairs. It had been exactly one week since he had parted from Felicity at the Starling City train station with a handshake. A handshake, for God’s sake, when what he’d really wanted to do was kiss her. He’d wanted to kiss her for days by that point, but at the last second he was afraid of ruining the bond they’d begun to form the second she demanded he teach her how to drive a stick. The memory made him shake his head as he flipped a wave to his mother’s EA and pushed through the glass door into her office. “Oliver, I want you to sit in on the interview I have in a few minutes.” “Okay. Any particular reason?” Moira Queen rolled her eyes without actually changing expression. It was one of her superpowers. “You’ve asked for more responsibility, so I’m giving it to you. I want your input on this potential new hire.” She passed him on her way out the door he was holding open. “Research and Development doesn’t really have an opening at the moment, but this person comes with a rather special referral letter.” “From who?” She glanced back at her son with a knowing smile. “Bruce Wayne.” Oliver groaned. The head of HR and a representative from R&D were already seated at the conference table when they took their seats. Oliver smoothed his tie, only half listening as his mother exchanged pleasantries. “Here we go again, eh?” the HR VP was saying. Moira pretended to fix her perfect hairdo. “Well it can’t be any worse than last time. I never did figure out what she was trying to say about my shoes. I assume it was an attempt at a compliment, though who could tell?” They both chuckled. “If what you’ve said about this idea of hers is legitimate,” the R&D rep put in, “I don’t care how awkward she is. A bio stimulant implant to reverse paralysis? That could be a game changer.” Oliver became very focused on the conversation going on around him. He sat forward and loosened his tie, suddenly warm. “But she has no experience,” his mother was saying. “Can we be sure the work is even hers?” “Mom…” “Exactly my point. Her resume says she currently works at…Tech Village.” “Mom, I…” Moira gestured through the glass at her EA, the signal to send in their victim. Oliver stood up. “Mom, I need to speak to you. Now.” She frowned at him. “Oliver, what—“ “Outside. Please.” She sighed elegantly and rose to follow him out into the hall opposite the one occupied by the EA. Damn Queen Consolidated’s glass offices; Oliver grabbed his mother’s elbow and gently steered her further away from the fishbowl of a conference room. “What is it, Oliver? I have a lot of appointments today—“ “Mom, the person you’re about to interview. I know it didn’t go well the last time, but I’m telling you, she’s the real deal. Felicity’s brilliant, and she learns so fast it’ll make your head spin. She has amazing ideas, and she’s funny, and kind, and you have to give her a second chance. You won’t regret it, I promise.” Moira searched her son’s face, confused. “Oliver, you know this young woman?” “Yes. She deserves this chance. Please.” She studied him a moment longer. “I’ll…I’ll keep your recommendation in mind. But right now we’re keeping her waiting.” He squeezed her elbow when she tried to turn away. “Mom, I—I can’t be in the interview.” She raised an eyebrow and waited. “It would be a conflict of interest.” “Oh, Oliver.” She sighed and gave him the look she usually reserved for Robert Queen. “No, it’s not like that. She’s a friend. I traveled cross country with her last week to get away from that hurricane. She learned to drive a stick in under ten minutes in an airport parking lot and then drove us twelve hours to Tommy’s, and…” He sighed. “I can’t.” Moira extracted her arm gently from his grip and smoothed a hand over his sleeve. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll let you know how it goes.” “Thanks. And mom?” She turned to look over her shoulder and Oliver gave her a brief grin. “Be nice.” ————————————————————————————————– ONE YEAR LATER “Here ya go. I got you the big bottle, just in case.” “Ungh. Thanks.” Felicity fiddled with the cap ineffectually until he grabbed it back and opened it for her. Oliver watched her take a swig before popping a pill. She chased it with more water and wiped her mouth. She was sweating; actual beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. He laid the back of his hand there to check for fever. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay. This is fine. I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine, Felicity. Is this—“ “Normal?” She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth again. “Unfortunately, yes.” A flight attendant passed them with an eye out for seatbelt violators and Felicity handed him back the water bottle so she could check hers for the fifteenth time. “How come you never told me you were afraid to fly?” Oliver prodded gently, still stunned by what he’d witnessed over the previous twenty minutes. “Six months ago, when I insisted we drive seventeen hours to Las Vegas to visit my mother, I thought that would be a clue.” “I figured you just wanted a road trip.” She shook her head quickly and moaned as the plane shifted back from the gate. “Nope.” She closed the shade over her window quickly. “You’re sure there isn’t a train we could take this time?” That surprised a laugh out of him. “There is, in fact, no train that will get us all the way to Hawaii, Felicity.” Oliver clicked his tongue in sympathy and took her hand. “I wish you’d said something, honey. We could’ve picked somewhere closer for a honeymoon.” “No way. I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii. This will be fun. As soon as the pills kick in.” Oliver was still trying to process. “The day we met. At the airport. You…you’d flown out from Starling and were trying to get back…” Felicity smiled for the first time in hours, though it was strained. “The pills work, I’m telling you.” “And until then?” “Until then…oh God.” The plane began accelerating toward take off. “Felicity, look at me.” He waited until she opened her eyes. “It’s going to be fine. I love you.” And then he leaned toward her and captured her lips with his own. She melted against him as the world dropped away.

[sea-salted-wolverine]

Okay so last week was a shitkicker and was literally so bad I spent the better part of the week trying to delude myself into thinking it was a good day. Like, we're talking, "the sun is shining and I'm here to see it so today is a good day" and "I'm having a bad day- fuck me I am not haveing a bad day- I'm having a good day- I'm not having a bad day". Denial is a powerful tool for mental health, apply judiciously. I get that everyone on earth is kinda having a shitty year but it feels like things just kinda escalated in my little corner

The 7th had a huge snow storm that brought traffic to a stand still. No one could leave the house and university class was online anyway. Batshit customer demanded to pick up her gear anyway. I drove in because I was the only person with keys to the shop that could get to the building. It took me a solid 2 hours going 15mph on the highway. The snow in the parking lot was up past the fenders of my truck. Crazy lady gets 10 out of 18 of her survival suits back but the other 8 still have holes in them because our only repair tech is also the only one who answers the phone or runs the computer or handles customers or cleans or disinfects anything or stores gear. I'll give you one guess who that person is.

Did you guess me? Good for you. Fun fact this was not the case in October.

Crazy lady swans off through the snowed in parking lot and because she cant find the exit, blasts straight through the ditch and onto the road.

I say fuck it and leave. I've been at work for 2 hours. I have made 24 dollars for my trouble. It takes me another hour to get home.

The 8th is Saturday and I'm supposed to be at work. No one can drive. There was another 10 8nches of snow last night. I say fuck work and go to dig out the plow truck. The canopy over the plow truck collapses as I walk out to clear the snow of it.

I do not scream.

My partner and I get the truck running and go plow people out of their driveways and then go do the shop.

We come back home and the heater doesn't work. We just spent most of last week frantically trying to limp the thing along because no heat at -20°F is in a word fucking unpleasant. At least now its 40 degrees warmer because if the snowstorm. We take it apart again. The house smells like diesel. The house smells like exhaust. The house is not cold because the wood stove can keep up at 20 above zero but it won't keep us through the winter.

There is no saving the oil heater. We need a new one.

Its 730 and neither of us have eaten. I start rice in the pressure cooker so I can throw a tasty bite on top and call it dinner and that dies too. Explosively.

Dinner is half cooked rice and microwaved curry.

Sunday is spent finding a way to stretch our increasingly thin budget to buy a new heater. Between us we actually have 2275$ and we will still cover the mortgage. Somehow. All our Christmas gifts will be hand made this year. The next thing that breaks will stay broken.

Monday, power outages due to snow storm. No wifi, no zoom meetings. Another 8 inches of snow. This is now more snow than my city gets for the full year.

My boss calls sobbing. The dog died. Joey, an 11 year old, 130lb mastiff with a tumor the size of a football on his liver has been her constant companion for at least 8 years. The pandemic has confused the bejesus out of him because while he loves the lock down and going out to play every hour or so he doesnt really like the concept of strangers in masks. Hes a guard dog and doesnt understand that men in masks coming into the shop are not here to kill mom they're wearing masks so they don't kill mom.

Mondays the shop is closed anyway and I spend it installing the new heater. It doesn't quite fit in the space the old heater came out of but its warm.

Tuesday, I go to work, everyone cancels class, I once again gently explain to a regular that eugenics is bad. I would like to curse him out. I cant. He drops a grand on scuba gear and leaves, talking about how great his trip to Mexico will be.

I do not scream.

A friend calls to ask how I'm doing. Not great. Yea, her niether. She asks if I want to go out to the backcountry with her over the weekend. I explain that my leg physically does not move and I'm downing copious amounts of advil to remain upright. The doctor sent me in for an MRI but has not yet called back. Plus I'm supposed to go to Valdez for the weekend and actually go diving. That I can do with limited use of my leg.

She says yikes, take it easy, take care of yourself, I love you.

I say, yikes, I'm tired of taking it easy, I wanna play, I love you too.

Hit me up if your plans open up and we can do something gentle on your leg. She says.

God yes. The cold woods away from people sounds like paradise. I dont even care that it will cause me rending physical pain to get there. I need a break.

Its Wednesday. I go to school. I get pulled over. Miraculously I dont get a ticket. I'm white female and conventionaly attractive, maybe not so miraculous. I rolled through a stop sign but I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a ticket.

I get a text in class. One of the instructors who works with the dive shop has tested positive for covid. I haven't seen the man in 2 months. I needed a spare instructor but he was nowhere to be found. But hey, evidently that's a good thing.

I go to work. I vacillate between doing the job a 4 people and having nothing to do.

I go to the grocery store because I misjudged my last monthly grocery run and even though I'm increasing my exposure I'm out of cheese and tea damnit.

The store is packed. Pandemic who?

My partner and I haven't had a date nite in a while and this week has been shitty. I want a nice dinner. I pick up a couple boxes of the carton sushi which isnt terrible and is about as nice as I can justify on the new budget. I grab a gallon of milk and a few other things. I forgot my wallet in the truck and the cashier is chill and sets my stuff aside while I grab it.

I pay and take my stuff home and realize I left one of my bags at the store. No cheese or tea for me.

Thursday. 10am my phone goes off with an emergency alert. The govoner has grown a spine in light of recent elections and is instituting a voluntary lock down. My state has 500 new cases a day. That might not sound like a lot but theres only 300,000 people in Alaska and we've got poor medical infrastructure.

Unfortunately Alaska is full of Alaskans and nobody can tell us what to do. Nothing changes. 7pm rolls around and I'm teaching scuba classes in the pool.

I load a few hundred pounds of scuba gear into the back of my truck. In a wet wetsuit. In the snow. In a fabric facemask. 6 feet apart. In the pool.

I dont get paid for pool time.

Over the summer we had 6 dive masters including me, all big burly dudes, much better suited to picking things up. Its November and I'm the only one.

The kids I'm teaching are going to Hawaii. They're 10 and 13 and so wildly excited about breathing underwater its beautiful to watch. And they're traveling to an island. In a pandemic.

Friday.

Unload scuba gear so it doesnt get stolen out of the back of my truck while I'm at class. Were doing a make up lab today. Hey of the five student in my class only one of us has covid so theres that.

My boss calls an let's me know that shes left for Valdez without me. If I'd like to make an 8 hour drive by myself in a snowstorm I'm welcome to follow.

I'm in class till an hour before shop closing. I'm not driving across town so I can run on the open sign for half an hour.

The shop stays closed on Friday.

Saturday.

I explained to everyone we had business with that the shop would be closed over the weekend and Friday. I planned on being in Valdez. Hell I canceled plans to be in Valdez.

I open the shop and immediately field calls about why we werent open. I start to explain about the Valdez trip and logistical difficulties and then I realize that shes not mad about that. The woman was here before I opened early this morning. We have never been open that early. The hours are on the door.

A regular comes in. Hes also confused as to why I'm here.

Sunday finds me curled up in bed, reluctant to leave. Getting out of bed has not played out well for me recently.

A friend comes over to chat with my partner about specialist rifle parts. This isnt that wierd, he works at a gun shop and they've been discussing upgrading my partners current rifle set up.

He is wearing a full Scottish kilt. Red tartan. Looks very lovely.

I make zucchini bread and my proportions are a little off because I have too much zucchini so it's a little over moist but it's good. I'm recovering from an asskicker of a week and next week will be better.

Monday morning:

Baby brother has covid

Dads getting the results of his rapid test tonight.

Mom isnt getting tested because she says she doesnt have symptoms but that's not the fucking point mom.

So, I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not diving in Valdez. I'm not skiing backcountry.

I'm not sick. I'm not flat broke yet. I dont have a ticket. I have a job. I have people who care about me. Im managing my physical and mental health as best I can. Im just fucking exhausted.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 34

Catch up on AO3

~*~Sebastian~*~

 Dog and pony show it is. There were more and varied people at the party, but it felt the same. I felt like I was on a leash being paraded around the room. I was introduced, explained about, talked at, and I acted well enough to win an Oscar. There were some people and some stories which were interesting. Sometimes not. Advertising campaigns are usually less interesting than movie things. Corporate people and I don't have much in common. I have a rudimentary knowledge of corporate executive speak from previous functions, but most of the conversation is them asking me about projects and people. It was really bad after Civil War because everyone wanted information. Information I didn't actually have. Hell, we didn’t know it was a funeral when we filmed the damn thing.

Almost two hours in I escaped to the bar. Wait staff had been delivering me drinks, but this was a moment of escape. I leaned against the bar and asked for tequila. They had the one Emma had said was her favorite. I took a sip and smiled.

 A voice beside me said, "The tequila that good or the party that bad."

 I looked at my glass then the man squeezed in the corner. He was my age, dressed more casual in jeans and a nice shirt, and swirling a healthy two fingers of bourbon around a glass. I opted for truth, "More about the woman who told me this was her favorite."

 "That's better than either." He held out his hand, "I'm Sam."

 I shook his hand, "Sebastian. Nice to meet you." I nodded toward the people. "How do you fit in here?"

 "My wife." He pointed to an attractive redhead. "I’m the arm candy."

 Funny.

 "Good for you."

Sam smirked and took a long drink. "Where is your tequila connoisseur?"

I looked at my watch, "Eighteen hours and a ninety-minute train ride north."

He hissed in a breath, "Sorry."

"No, nothing bad." I was shaking my head. "She's new. It's new." I smiled, "It's good, just new."

"New is good." He cringed, "Too good to expose her to this horse shirt."

We continued talking until I finished my second drink. Sam walked with me over to his wife and my night had taken a definite good turn.

My head hated me in the morning. My stomach wasn't my biggest fan either. I downed a bottle of alkaline water and some Advil before heading to the gym. I grabbed a hangover smoothie on the way. By the time the workout was over I was feeling human. I took a degree of shit for being hungover and a little extra for my weekend plans. Specifically, my hangover would have a negative effect on my weekend. I called bullshit. They were just trying to get into my head.

 For this weekend I packed better. I guess that means I packed better for tonight’s dinner. Tomorrow was a shorts and t-shirt sort of day. I wonder if her team has a uniform? Now I have to pack several different colors of shirts to make sure I'm not walking around in rival colors. Alternatively, I could ask.

 Sebastian ~ What are your team's colors?

 Emma ~ Blue and orange.

 Sebastian ~ I can do blue.

 Emma ~ Got something against orange?

 Sebastian ~ Don't like orange.

 Emma ~ Me either. How was last night?

 Sebastian ~ Tequila!

 There were pictures from the party on the companies Instagram. I took a screenshot and sent one to Emma.

 Emma ~ Your face! Look at your face.

 I'd shaved before dinner. I ran my hand over the stubble that had already grown back.

 Sebastian ~ No beard for this ad.

 Emma ~ Can’t wait to get my hands on your face.

 Sebastian ~ I'm done for the day. Can you pick me up at 3:30? If not, I’ll go visit mom.

 Emma ~ I can. I'll still be in work clothes.

 Sebastian ~ Teacher is hot.

 Emma ~ We'll see...

 Since my meeting canceled and I’m not leaving for a few hours I decided to stretch out on the couch and read. That lasted about fifteen minutes. I'm distracted. Distracted by a woman. It’s been a long time since I've been distracted by a woman. A very long time to this degree. I keep replaying conversations. I can hear her voice, the words she uses, and her laughter. I can see her smile and the way she holds her body. Her beautiful body. Her strength and her confidence, the way she carries herself is sexy. There’s a compilation of clips running through my mind. Thoughts and memories distract me from my day and make me smile. All the damn time.

 On the train, I started working on a playlist. More than one. A bigger one with songs that had me thinking of Emma. Fast, slow, sexy, whatever songs. I included things I wanted her to hear. I shoved everything into the big playlist. From there I narrowed it down for a smaller one. A soundtrack. Songs I want to dance, sing, make out, and have sex too. I moved things in and out several times. Making a playlist for us is much harder. I don't want songs that don't reflect what I’m feeling, what I want. That's tough because I'm changing every hour. I’m jumping in with both feet, then stepping back to ease in, then running forward again. Back and forth and up and down. Never going backward from where we are. The back and forth is more trying to find what's next. What's too far? And is it too far for me or am I concerned it’s too far for her?

 Time went fast. My project was nowhere near done. Luckily, I had another train ride to work on it come Monday. Outside on the sidewalk was a long line of cars. The traffic was steady, even rushed, to get out of the lot. Just the pickup was delaying the process. It reminded me of a roller coaster where you get in and barely have time to buckle up before the ride is off. I could see a red CRV back almost a dozen vehicles. I walked toward until I was close enough to see Emma in the driver’s seat. She saw me and waved. I heard the door lock disengage as I reached for the handle.

 First things first, a kiss. Slow enough to feel it and quick enough to not get the wrath of the other drivers. Emma reached for my hand, "I'm glad you’re here."

"Me too." I took a moment to check out teacher clothes and started laughing. "What the hell are you wearing?

 Emma smiled, "It's Fantasy Friday."

 "Pull the damn car over!" I point to the right. "Over there." She did as I asked and pulled across two spots. I moved my hand to shift the CRV into Park. "I need to check this out."

 Emma wore a purple gauzy dress with a halter top, a skirt halfway to her knees, and long strands of cloth hanging in different lengths. She had a pair of black tights on under the dress. In her hair, she had a crown of flowers and behind her were white wings.

 After checking out the whole costume I met her eyes with a smile, "Fantasy Friday."

 "I'm a fairy."

 "I can see that." She looked cute and silly. The thought of her teaching class dressed like a fairy made my heart beat faster. I don't have to see her teach to know she’s a good teacher. She's gone all-in. She looked confused by my facial expression. I shook it off, it didn't matter and she’d understood in a second. I reached under her hair, mindful of her wings, and cupped her neck. "Is there a curse or anything for kissing a fairy."

 "Only if you do it badly."

 "I'm safe then."

 I leaned across the console to press my lips to hers. My intention was a relatively chaste but long kiss ending with a hint of tongue. Emma wanted a long, deep, wet, kiss. I was easily convinced. Very easily. I'm pretty sure the only reason we had a mini make-out session in a parking lot was that it was too light and too busy to have sex. We have some kind of incendiary chemistry going on.

 I moved away from the kiss and buried my face against her neck. I laid a wet kiss where she liked best before moving my mouth to her ear and whispering. "I gotta tell you. You look very cute, but this isn't my fantasy."

 Emma ran her hand down my arm, "You'll have to fill me in on your fantasy, so I can make that happen for you." She kissed me and held tight to my bicep.

 The hours of distraction and attempts to pull together a playlist were paying off for me. I was already worked up and excited to see her. Actually being with her, her dressed to read to her students, and our flirting kisses had me on edge. I’m calculating the appropriate time between arrival and having sex. I had a basic idea of continued flirting through dinner, ramping up to sexual flirting before we got to dessert, then cutting loose when we got back home. But I'm telling you, I feel like Emma has other plans. Plans for me. I like being the subject of nefarious plans. I'm feeling kinda stalked. The good kind of stalked. Not the someone tracking my movements through my friends’ Instagram type of stalking. I won’t be going far enough for her to lose me, so she won’t have far to stalk. It's conceivable I could tie myself to her bed and wait for her to show up. Ok, maybe not right now, but it’s an option.

 She told me about Fantasy Friday as she drove. "We have theme days through the months. Like Manic Monday where we incorporate movement and dance into our lessons. More than usual and have a dance party in the afternoon. Naughty or Nice Tuesdays where they earn cards to get them out of things or trade with peers. Camping Thursday is big popular. But Fantasy Fridays are the best. They all get into it and I have boxes of costumes so no one feels left out."

 Emma’s attention to make sure no one would feel left out was one more thing on the list of things that make her an amazing teacher. "What happens on Fantasy Friday?"

 “Today they had to present their character story. Where they're from, what skills they have, what their lives are like."

 I could tell by the tone of her voice she had fun with her backstory. "Tell me yours."

 Emma smiled at me, "I am the lost fairy of Central Park. There was a war with the bridge trolls and I was sent away for my safety. Soon an agreement will be reached and I will return to my home. I enjoy pollinating, singing to flowers, and providing mediation between arguing animals."

 "Is this lesson recorded?" I was most interested in the pollinating.

 "It is."

 "Can I watch?"

 "If I can watch something of yours."

 I squeezed her hand. "Deal."

 At her condo I followed her in, watching the fabric swish and admiring her ass. Like I said, worked up. Worked the fuck up.

 Emma opened the door and walked in, holding the door. She smiled as I walked in and spoke, "Bine-ai revenit, Sebasti-an."

 I stopped dead in my tracks. Emma had said, "Welcome back, Sebastian" in a not too bad Romanian. The accent was off, but her pronunciation of my name was beautiful. To me anyway.

 My mouth hung open in surprise, a slight smile curving the sides. "Mulţumesc. (thank you) Did you learn words to be able to say my name?" Last weekend we’d discovered I prefer the Romanian pronunciation of my name, but it didn’t sound right in connection with English sentences.

 Her smile answered, "Da." (Yes)

 I walked to her, pressing her back to the wall, with my hands on either side of her shoulders. I was affected more than I would have expected. "How much do you know?"

 She grimaced, "Not a lot. Pronunciation is hard."

"I know someone who can teach you."

 "Gotta be phrases so I can say your name."

“Sărută-mă. Repeat." My eyes stayed on hers.

"What am I saying?"

"Try it and see." This was fun. And hot, really fucking hot.

"Sărută-mă, Sebasti-an." She may not know what she’s saying, but her tone was perfect.  Fucking hell. I can't believe her.

 "Fericit, iubito." I dipped down and sucked her bottom lip between mine. Emma licked along my lips urging me to open to her. It didn’t take much urging.

 Emma kissed my collar bone, "What did you have me say."

 "Kiss me." I went for her neck, "And I said “Happily, baby".”

 I continued kissing her neck, loving the way she sighed and the feel of her hands on me. I stepped closer to press the length of my body against hers. My cock was hard and the pressure against her stomach felt amazing. I pulled my head back to breathe, looking up and closing my eyes. I felt her hands cup my face and tilt my face back to hers.

 "Do you want me like I want you? Right now." She licked her lips.

 I groaned before I spoke, "I really fucking do."

 We crashed together. Emma rubbed against my cock and I kissed her like it had been forever. I dug underneath the fairy fabric and hooked my thumbs in her tights, taking those and her panties down to the floor. I reached for my bag and found a condom. I held the corner between my teeth as I stood. I needed my hands to run up her legs and one to slide into her. The way she curled her hips against my hand made me smile around the condom.

 Emma plucked the condom from between my teeth and tucked it into her bra, "Give me that." She was kissing me before the words died in the air. Her hands went for my jeans. A slow stroke of my cock preceded the sweet sound of my zipper. Her hand wrapped around me as soon as she had my jeans over my ass.

 I pushed my jeans down farther and nuzzled between her breasts. I grabbed the condom with my teeth and mumbled, "I need this back." I worked quickly, covering myself and bending my knees to push up into her.

 Emma cried out and I moaned loudly. I put my hands on her ass to lift her, using the wall to help support her. She wrapped her legs and arms around me, holding on while I thrust into her. There was nothing but the sounds of sex. No words, just sound. God, it felt good. All lust and need. I wanted the sex. I wanted the contact. I wanted the closeness. She fucking learned Romanian to use my name. That’s the thought that sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came hard.

Emma's fingers ran through my hair as her legs went back to the ground. My face was buried against her neck, "I think I smashed your wings."

She laughed, "They detach. Snaps."

"Oh, good." I pulled us away from the wall, feeling around for the snaps as she hugged me, her hands caressing my back. I undid the snaps and dropped the wings on my bag. "Come with me."

I took her hand, leading her to the couch. I led her to sit across my lap, her fingers ran over my chin. "I don't know if I like the gray patch or dimple more."

I didn’t care as long as she kept touching me, "I don't always have control of any hair on my body."

She kissed me lightly, "I saw I,Tonya."

I cringed, "Bad look all around."

"Everything grows back or can be shaved off."

I trailed my finger along her shins, over her knees, then back to her feet, "I lost a section of pubic hair for the Bronze." Her eyes widened with amusement. "Character had a tattoo. An Olympic medal."

 Emma laughed, "Narcissist."

I said the line, "I am the fucking god of gymnastics."

"We should watch that later tonight."

 "No, we shouldn't." I kissed her before she could voice any other shitty ideas. I moved my caress under her legs and when I got to the back of her knees her legs fell open, which was what I was going for. I kissed over to her ear, "That's what I wanted."

I slid two fingers inside her, rubbing the wall of her vagina to find her g-spot. I massaged internally and

barely used my thumb on her clit just enough to get amp things up.

Emma took a shuddering breath, "Talk to me."

I kept up the stimulation and moved my mouth close to her ear. The words came out in long sentences. Long Romanian sentences. When her nails started to dig into my arm I moved back where I could see her face. "You gonna come for me, baby?"

"I am."

I used more pressure inside and out.

 Emma gasped and arched her back, "Oh fuck, Bastian. Your fingers...”

[packsbeforesnacks]

Notes on Camp || Orion & Winn

TIMING: Friday, April 10th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: Somewhere in the Foothills of Appalachia, Maine PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Rio and Winn were supposed to go on a retreat for their theatre class. Winn gets them lost. Maybe the real camping trip was the friends we made along the way! (feat. Yeth Hounds) WARNINGS: None.

There were few things that Winn enjoyed more than a good ol’ fashioned campin’ trip. And given his run-in with the asanbosam earlier in the week, he was more than happy to get out of White Crest for the weekend. Darbussy had been ecstatic when the sun came out on Monday evening, now no administrative excuse for why the retreat would have to be cancelled. He knew Blanche would hate it — hell, Orion probably would, too. But it would be a good bonding experience. Probably.

Blanche had laughed him off the phone when he’d called her to see if she was ready, which he took to mean that she’d put off packing until the last possible moment. Orion seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders, though. He’d be packed, for sure. So, Winn drove to the library, whistling a happy tune.

He pulled up on the curb, and honked twice. Winn didn’t want to kill Orion, so he’d dressed conservatively — a loose tank that showed off his arms and only a hint of his pecs. Tasteful side boob, as it were. He honked one more time for good measure, just in case the younger man hadn’t heard him, and set about fiddlin’ with the radio before decidin’ he’d toss Orion a bone (ha) and the AUX cord.

This was gonna be great.

Orion was a mixed bag of emotions, but what else was new? Sure, he did want to hang out with Blanche and Winn. If only his desire to make friends was strong enough to completely destroy the fear of embarrassing himself in front of them. But alas, it seemed like that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, so instead he would just have to force himself against his own judgement and will to go camping. Really, the only thing he could hope for was that he didn’t have a straight up panic attack like last time, or at the very least that the two found his awkwardness endearing. It was all he had going for him.

Of course, when Winn had offered to drive, Orion wasn’t going to disagree, but he certainly wasn’t about to let Winn pick him up from his house. If his mom had been home… well, Orion didn’t want to think about that. If his family found out he was going out in the woods camping with a werewolf? They would implode. That was how he ended up at the library, bag full of clothes, supplies and snacks awkwardly resting at his side while he read one of the books he had planned on checking out to bring with him. Just in case he finished one. He didn’t know Winn’s sleep schedule, and if Rio found himself up late he could get some good reading in.

The horn cut through Rio’s hearing like a bullet, catching him off guard and forcing him to jump (much to the surprise of a few other students around him; either they hadn’t heard the horn or it wasn’t nearly loud enough to scare normal hearing). Assuming that may be his ride, Orion jumped up and slung the bag over his shoulders. He tucked the stack of books under his arms and ran over to check them out, another honking lighting up his senses. At least he didn’t jump that time.

Orion waved on his way to the car door and opened it up, tossing his bag in the back as well as his stack of books. “Hey! Thanks for picking me up.” Of course, Winn’s muscles were on full display, and Orion rubbed at his eyes to force himself to look away. He climbed into the front seat, holding onto one of the books that he had checked out. “I’m excited!” Mostly.

The corner of Winn’s mouth tugged upward into a half-smirk as Orion took the front seat of his car. ‘Course, who was he to argue with dibs? Blanche hadn’t been ready, so Blanche could lose her seat. ‘Sides, he was more than willing to get to know Orion. Since their ill-fated acting exercise, he’d tried to stick close to the younger man, the same old instincts that made him go into counseling cropping up. Wolves ran in packs, and Winn wouldn’t deny he made friends — or, folks he would call a friend — fast. And since Orion was clearly uncomfortable with Darbussy’s constant needling at all of their expenses, Winn figured he could be (somewhat) of a buffer. He was broad and charming, and Blanche could take care of herself.

Given that Orion had been fairly normal around him — other than the occasional raised heartbeat, which, right, Winn still needed to organically bring that little tidbit up — Winn figured he was doing a half-decent job of making sure he stayed under the radar in his attempts. Darbussy had seemed to notice, though, and, for better or worse, paired Winn and Orion up for exercises more often than not. There was, strictly speaking, less touching and certainly less kissing involved than their initial encounter, so it had been fine — even fun! But Winn still felt like he didn’t really know the other guy.

He glanced over to make sure Orion had buckled himself in (humans were squishy!), and noticed Orion was rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t yawning or nothin’, but the joke came easy: “Stay up late partying?” Winn chuckled. Thirsty Thursdays, indeed.

But Winn didn’t really think Orion was that much of a partier, if at all. After all, he’d seen the books that Orion had slung into his backseat. Was he doing homework this weekend? Gross. Not if Winn could help it. But then, there was one in the other man’s lap. Maybe he… just liked reading? Winn knew he liked comics. And if nothing else, Winn was great at small talk. “Whatcha got there?” he asked, sticking a thumb out towards Orion’s lap as he pulled off the curb outside the library and drove towards Blanche’s house.

This was going to be fun, right? This was going to be fun… This was totally going to be fun. This would be fun! If Orion told himself that enough he would create some self fulfilling prophecy. He wasn’t really worried about the company, at least not exactly. If anything he was worried about himself in front of the company. Orion had learned that he seemed to make himself far more nervous than other people had the ability to. Not that people like Winn or Adam couldn’t do just fine prickling Rio’s nerves on their own. But Orion seemed to always find a way to make things even worse.

“Ha ha.” Orion fake laughed at Winn’s joke, shooting him a side eye and trying to keep himself calm and collected. No need for nerves right now. “Just stayed up late I guess.” Not exactly an exciting answer, but it would take a bit longer for Rio to find his footing before he could try for a joke. Orion kept glancing over at Winn, mostly because he hated himself he supposed. It was supposed to be sunny today, but still not above the 50’s, which made Winn’s choice of outfit stick out. Knowing what Orion knew, the cold probably didn’t bother Winn much anyways. On the opposite end of the scale, Orion was probably getting ready to sweat during the hike today. He had worn a long sleeve shirt with a hoodie on top of that plus a pair of track pants. But he wasn’t about to make the same mistake that he had with Skylar at the Farmer’s Market.

“This?” Orion asked, flashing the book that he held tightly in his hands. “Nothing, really. Just a book on Norse Mythology. I met this guy who speaks some Scandinavian who offered to help with some translations if needed. So I’m going to reread through some of these and try to pick some out that I hope he can help with.” Orion smiled nervously. That may have been the lamest thing he could possibly have said to Winn, but oh well. Despite Rio’s desire to make some friends in this town, he also wasn’t exactly prepared to change anything about himself to do it. “You uh— Ready to do some hiking?”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Winn asked, trying to pry a scrap of information out of Orion. He was beginning to sense he was maybe, a little bit, out of his element. It wasn’t that Orion was a brick wall, precisely, more than Winn didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t be taken the wrong way. He wished, like with Noah, he could just push past the awkwardness and into a blossoming friendship. But, well. Maybe Orion would open up if Winn revealed more about himself? “Can’t get to sleep myself, a lot of the time. Have to take a sleep aid to get me there.” Among other things. But he’d hold off on suggesting Orion try weed or, well, any of the supernatural drugs and sedatives that Natalia had hawked in his direction. The younger man seemed a little clean-cut for that. Not that Winn really knew. “You look snug as a bug in a rug, though. I run hot. Heck, even in midwinter I was only puttin’ on pants when I had to be somewhere, y’know?”

His ears perked up at Orion’s mention of Norse mythology. When Winn was younger, before he’d gotten involved in sports and his afternoons were burned away with practices and games, Winn had had an ongoing, but passionate, love affair with his father’s stacks of myths. He’d learned a little bit of everything and, while he’d forgotten most of it, he couldn’t deny that he’d cottoned onto the Norse myths the best — the idea of different realms, of the deep magic in those stories, enraptured him. Made him an easy target to believe in werewolves, he supposed. “What’s your favorite part about it?” he asked excitedly. “My favorite deity is probably Frigg or Freyja, though I know some folks think they’re the same goddess or came from the same goddess? ‘S kinda cool, right? Like, Frigg having the whole “I see the future” thing and havin’ to keep it secret and be kind of mysterious. I, uh.” He coughed, blushing a bit. Most of that had jumped out of him before he’d even really thought about it, and he’d been about to talk about wonderin’ if the gods and goddesses were real. That’d prolly be a step too far, even for Orion. He pivoted. “I, uh. Dunno how serious y’are in myths and whatnot, but I can read Chinese. Simplified and traditional. A little out-of-practice, but if you, like, needed help, I could help. If you needed help.” Wait, shit, he’d already said that. He decided to take the lifeline that Orion had given him.

“Shit yeah, bro,” he said, fist pumping to no one in particular. “Hiking is the bomb. Gettin’ out into nature, really seein’ what’s hidin’ in the woods? If you’re lucky, o’course. How ‘bout you? Could prolly carry you on my back, but it’s a lot more fun for the both of us if you can keep up.” Shit, was that offensive? Orion was kind of small, but it’s not as if Winn knew his, like, muscle mass. Maybe he worked out. He fumbled, again, shit, he was really putting his foot in his mouth today. “I, uh. If you want some music, there’s, like—” he gestured vaguely at the AUX cord hanging out of the cassette deck “—that whole thing. Should work. I’m into most everythin’. ‘Course we can just keep talkin’, so long as it’s not, like, dead silent. ‘Course, when Blanche gets in here, there’s no chance of chatter dyin’ down… Actually, speakin’ of which, I should give her a call, we’re only a few minutes out. Y’wanna stop and get some grub before we head out or wait until we get there? This car’s taken its fair share of food stains, so don’t worry your pretty little head about bein’ polite. I can scarf down with the best of ‘em.”

Orion shrugged. He didn’t talk about his sleeping issues much. The nightmares kept him up a lot of times. They weren’t usually as bad if he was sleeping at the Scribe Headquarters. He figured that was because he was away from his parents and that house. Still, the headquarters kept him busy enough that he usually ended up staying up way too late into the night reading anyways. “I uh—I get distracted easily.” That was the simpler way to put it. He didn’t feel the need or desire to delve into the nightmares right now. Not exactly an easy or friendly conversation. “Really? Sorry to hear that. I—” He wasn’t sure what Winn was implying when he meant sleep aid. Like sleeping pills? Or something else? “It depends on the night.” Rio crossed his arms instinctively. Rio wished that he ran cold, so the outfits would make more sense. But he had adjusted. “Oh yikes. I’d freeze to death.” He laughed nervously, trying to push the thought of Winn without pants far from his brain.

Orion had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised by Winn’s interest in Norse mythology. Not that Orion had wanted to judge a book by its cover, especially considering that first interaction the two had during the improv class. Plenty of Winn’s choices had taken Orion by surprise that day. But here the two had found some sort of common ground—and just the thought of talking about something like Norse mythology was enough to put Orion more at ease. “Oh, those are great! Yeah, there are a lot of stories that equate them to being the same deity, but regardless Freya was crazy cool. Some of the stories credit her with teaching Odin what he knew about magic. That’s so crazy cool. Since Odin would go on to be one of the mainstays of Norse Mythology in popular culture.”

He thought on things for a moment. “Obviously Ragnarok is an incredible story. Everything about it is just so… grandeur. It makes some other mythologies look like children’s stories. Which I mean, I guess a lot of, like, Greek mythology has been turned into a children’s story. But it probably shouldn’t be, you know?” A giant grin spread across Orion’s face at Winn’s offer, not knowing that about him. He paused for a moment, not speaking as he tried to home in on a few of the words that he had learned of Chinese: “That’s so cool!” It was broken up and the pronunciation could have been terrible for all Orion knew but he was like 90% sure that he had at least said the correct words. Whenever he started learning the basics of a new language, he usually started with phrases that he said a lot in English. ‘That’s so cool’ was probably one of Orion’s most used sentences. “Oh, I take mythology and history very seriously. And I really appreciate it! The other day I was reading about unicorns and how they’re considered a sacred animal in Chinese mythology, but how they look nothing like what we picture as unicorns. Turns out the idea of a horse with a horn is a lot more European than universal. Which I found fascinating.”

Turned out, Winn really liked to talk. It was perfect, because it meant that Rio didn’t have to worry as much about keeping a conversation going.  Plus, the more Winn talked the more Rio realized that… he almost sounded a bit nervous at times. Which was, well, comforting to say the least. “I’m incredibly clumsy and my body rejects the outdoors, but other than that I’m very excited. I like hiking enough.” He hadn’t done it much admittedly, but it was definitely something that he was interested in doing. With the right people. He giggled at the comment about Blanche. Thankfully, Orion was very comfortable speaking to her now, surprising even himself. “I’m good with pretty much any music. I uh—I’m not really picky about anything. I’m not super crazy about, like, metal. Or Christian Rock, I guess.” The mention of food made Rio’s stomach growl on reflex. “I uh—well, I could definitely eat. Always. But I’m fine with waiting.”

“Hm,” Winn said. “Mostly just gettin’ to sleep, for me, rather than stayin’ awake and gettin’ lost in somethin’ or other.” Winn privately wondered if his transformation had thrown off his Circadian rhythm. The wolf wanted to be out at night, prowling, so, maybe, it would do anything to fight off its other half, to make Winn feel like he couldn’t sleep at night, that he should switch over entirely. But no. He was still, well, negligibly human. Had to live a human life. Not his fault that his inner wolf had taken all of his rebellion and ramped it up to eleven. “Rain helps, white noise. Stayed in Seattle for a couple’a weeks during undergrad? Best sleep I ever got.” Granted, part of that was Roberto keepin’ him exhausted. But, well, Orion didn’t need to know that much about what Winn got up to.

“And let’s be real, Odin prolly needed someone to teach ‘m magic. Shit, if magic were real—” Winn laughed privately “—I bet all those goddesses, like Hecate, Freya, Isis, whoever, would come down to show us what’s happenin’. I remember gettin’ jealous, like, when are dudes gonna get to sling around spells and potions and shit? Like, I’unno, Loki was sort of that. Though, guess they were a little more gender-fluid, so maybe not the right example.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, man, if the Greeks and Romans could see what Disney did to their myths, they’d be, like, super mad. “Go the Distance” is a bop, though, so the dead folks can suck it.” He watched as Orion’s face split into a (brilliant, frankly) smile at his offer of translating, and when he spoke, admittedly a little rough (but like would Winn be rude? naw), Mandarin. It was precious. Winn wondered why he didn’t smile more, it really changed his face. Not that Orion was ugly or nothin’, but there was something about enthusiasm, about pure joy, that really lit people up from the inside, gave their souls (or whatever) a chance to shine.

“Thank my father!” he said back, then in English to cover his bases. Winn listened to Orion talk about Chinese mythology, an area that he, oddly, didn’t know as much about. “My pa taught comparative literature, but I guess he had a pretty… Western trainin’? Or had mixed feelings ‘bout China. Never really found much. But that’s cool. I mean, unicorns are associated, in the West, with, like, purity, right? I can imagine Europeans focusin’ on a horn and associatin’ it with purity, if you catch my meanin’.” He wiggled his eyebrows, to make his intent even clearer. “But, naw, that’s really cool. I’m serious about the offer. Could help pass some of those sleepless nights, and I… miss it, I think.” Plus, like, who knew what elements from mythology were real. Orion might stumble upon somethin’ that Winn would actually run across. He wished, in that moment, he could show the other man. He seemed like the type to appreciate it, rather than run away screamin’.

“C’mon—” He fumbled, since he was pretty fast and loose with the nicknames. Didn’t want to offend Orion, but he felt like he’d heard Blanche call him somethin’ else a few times… “Rio. Just pick somethin’, bro. I got no judgment in my heart. Though, well, actually. Yeah. No Christian rock. This car’s been part of too many sins to not burst into flames. Don’t think either of us would love that.” Rio’s stomach growled, and Winn smirked. “I heard that. Like I said, don’t be shy about needin’ anythin’. We’ve got plenty of time and I like night drivin’ regardless. You prolly know this town better than me, so just pick somethin’ and we’ll head there after gettin’ Blanche.”

Speaking of. Winn picked up his cell, knowing they were coming up on Blanche’s house. He’d been almost taken aback the first time he’d visited her, post move. And then, like, hangin’ out when Blanche had been tailorin’ him for his date with Ricky. It was a big house and, like, Blanche—if her reaction to Winn’s own wealth was anythin’ to go by—seemed, uh, uncomfortable with money. To say the least. Blanche picked up on the fourth ring. “Winn,” she said, “Please tell me you aren’t at my house right now.

“Uh, pullin’ up in five. What’s up?” he asked.

“Winn! My shoulder is wack, you think I’m going to that? I’m at work!” Blanche said. Winn heard a loud rumble in the background. “Gotta go, have fun, bye!” Then, she hung up.

Well. Huh.

“Uh,” Winn said, intelligently, as he put his phone into one of the cup holders. “So, looks like Blanche isn’t joinin’ us on the trip. Forgot she hurt her shoulder, and I guess she forgot to tell me she wasn’t comin’? Just you ‘n me, Rio.” It’d be fiiine.

Conversations like this reminded Orion of how little he knew about Winn, which shouldn’t have been surprising considering the two hadn’t known each other long and didn’t spend much time talking to begin with. At least not about themselves. “That’s cool. I feel like you’ve… been a lot of places? Like travelling and stuff.” As much as Rio liked to think he knew about the history of the world, he had never actually seen any of it for himself. He had never even left Maine.

Orion remained pleasantly surprised by how much Winn knew and seemed interested in Norse mythology, but he was even more surprised by how much he was talking to keep up with the conversation. Maybe it was because the conversation was about history that Orion had turned so chatty. Of course, thinking about it seemed to make Orion a bit more nervous and he resigned himself to mostly nodding in agreement with Winn, chiming in to proclaim “God the Distance is a bop. All of Disney is.” He giggled about the unicorn, the phallic symbol of the horn never really occurring to Orion until Winn had mentioned it. “I- well I actually never thought of it that way. But yes, the symbolized peace or innocence. In Chinese cultures they look like sort of a chimera of other creatures. They’re considered one of the four noble animals of East Asia. It sort of symbolized virtues and it had all kinds of powers associated with it. So thanks, I will definitely take you up on it.

Orion procrastinated with choosing music just long enough for Winn to get on the phone with Blanche. His hearing picked up on the conversation and Orion felt his stomach drop. He was going to be alone? With Winn? Oh god. He was going to pass out. But it was too late to bail now… what excuse could he possibly come up with? “Oh.. right. Well, yeah that’s probably for the best. That she gets some rest.” He nodded, maybe a bit too long and had to force himself to stop nodding. Oh boy. “Um, welp let’s get going I guess!” He finally picked a song. It seemed easy enough to go based on a song that they had just agreed was a bop. So Hercules it was.

“I have,” Winn admitted. He’d alluded as much to Blanche, referenced being from the South in conversation often enough, that it was a fair observation. Winn always felt privileged, in some ways. Even before his trust vested, Dad and Ma had taken him over the country — and beyond. They always returned to Falls Church, but Winn knew he’d seen more of the world before his eighteenth birthday than some saw in their lives. “I always thought to myself, ‘The world’s a big place, there are places some folks never see. I wanna see ‘em all.’ Have you travelled much?” Winn got the sense… maybe not. It wasn’t just the clear interest in Rio’s eyes whenever he talked about the places he’d been, but that helped. “Where would you want to go? If you had your pick o’ the lot?”

He could hear Rio’s heartbeat skip a bit when he announced Blanche wouldn’t be joinin’ them, but Winn was used to it. Would Rio ever not be nervous around him? What was there to be nervous about? Winn hummed along to the melody line of “Go the Distance,” half-singing the end of the chorus when it came up. It was… unexpectedly a little emotional for Winn, but he didn’t need to unload his baggage on Rio. They barely knew each other, after all. “You, uh…” He coughed, hoping to hide the roughness in his voice. “Figure out dinner?” The song faded in the background, and into “I Won’t Say (I’m in Love)” smoothly.

Orion laughed. It was sarcastic, but not harsh. “No. No, I haven’t. I’ve never even been outside of Maine.” He was still laughing, mostly under his breath now. “There are so many places I’d want to go. I want to go to Massachusetts and eat Sonic, first thing.” He laughed again, realizing that without context it didn’t make much sense. “Uh— That’s a conversation I had with someone. I’ve never eaten there.” He shrugged. “But, uh, like a serious answer. God… so many options. I want to go to Egypt. And Rome. And Tokyo. And a bunch of other places.” Not that he thought he’d ever really get the chance.

Orion hummed along quietly to music as they drove along. “We can just swing by any fast food place and grab something on the way. I will eat anything.” He tapped his fingers against his knee along to the music. Winn had a good voice, and the desire to sing along with Disney was strong. But for the moment, his own nerves kept him from joining in outside of humming along to the muses' words. He cracked open the book he had been holding onto and absentmindedly stared at the words. “Sorry that Blanche couldn’t come along. I know I’m not really exciting company. Blanche is always fun.”

“Sonic does make a good burger to satisfy all your beastly cravings,” Winn said, laughing a little at his own joke. Beastly. Ha. Speaking of which… He turned the car away from the road to Blanche’s house, heading towards a burger place on their way out of White Crest. Darbussy would be Dar-pissy if they were late, and Winn knew Rio already was nervous around their professor, especially after that first day with all three of them in class together. “But, bro, we could swing down to Massachusetts on any weekend! Hell, if I didn’t think the teach would kill us, I’d take us there now. Could still camp out, even…” Winn got lost in his own daydream for a moment, humming lighty. “Never made it to Egypt, and the one time I was in Japan, I got food poisoning. Bad sushi.” Winn shuddered. “But Rome is… stunning. There’s really nothin’ like it. I’m not that good at appreciatin’ art or nothin’, but I could get lost in that city for days and never get bored. Why don’t you take a Study Abroad or somethin’? If money’s a problem…” Winn trailed off, shrugging. “Well, I mean, don’t let it be a problem,” he said cryptically.

They ordered quickly, Rio picking up a standard meal — his indulgence of choice being a chocolate milkshake. Winn ordered about three times as much food as he needed, figuring a lukewarm burger reheated on a campfire was still better than his sorry attempts at cooking. Plus, he got the vibe that Rio wouldn’t order as much as he wanted. Even more so when the younger man apologized for, well, for not bein’ Blanche. “Rio, man. Blanche is great. But you’re great, too. Your greatnesses are in their own vacuums. I like hangin’ with you, from what little I’ve gotten to do it.” He smiled, genuinely, poking Rio’s cheek with a fry. “I don’t hang with folks I don’t like. Don’t got much time for that shit. So, c’mon, lighten up. We’ll show B that she should’a come with us! I hope you’re ready for approximately a metric butt-ton of selfies, bro.” His eyes shone with laughter, and he turned the car again, trying to remember the way to the campsite. It was a left, right?

Winn was definitely trying his hardest to conversate with Orion. Rio knew that it wasn’t always easy. Talking to people, especially guys and especially especially attractive ones were not easy for Rio to connect or communicate with. In most cases, he usually found that it was easier to just… not communicate with them at all. But he supposed he didn’t have much of a choice here. “I can’t say the money would… exactly be the problem? It’s hard to explain.” Rather, he did not want to explain it. Especially with that obnoxious tingling feeling constantly ringing that kept reminding Rio that Winn was a werewolf and Rio was a Hunter.

“I don’t really do selfies…” Rio mumbled, but mostly to himself. When Winn asked about the turn, Rio couldn’t offer much assistance. “I have definitely never been here before. So, uh— you’re on your own.” They kept driving around for a while and the more they did, the more Rio was pretty sure that the campsite was nowhere around here. “So, uh— you sure that campsite was here?”

Winn decided to let sleeping dogs lie (ha), and not press Rio on the reasons he couldn’t travel to other places. Winn had been the kinda person, once, to go along with what other people wanted for him. Whether or not he still did, sometimes, was no one’s business but his own, but now, at least, he knew that he could make those decisions. Expectations be damned. His ears twitched a little when Rio mentioned that he didn’t do selfies. Winn was, slowly, learning more about Rio, and the first real thing he’d picked up on was the younger man’s near-criminal lack of self-confidence. And, while Winn couldn’t say he understood, per se, he’d been friends with enough folks with shit self-esteem to know when to press. Now, Winn knew, wasn’t the time.

“I’m not… not sure?” Winn said dubiously, pulling the car off to the side of the road for a moment and flipping his hazards on. Just in case someone drove past and decided to take pity on them. The sun had begun to set over the horizon the longer they’d driven, and now it was almost dark. His phone was little help, having lost signal a few miles back, but Winn was able, at least, to double-check the address. Winn hadn’t really noticed, content to let Rio read in the dim light provided by one of his overhead lights, but they’d driven for longer than he thought it’d be. He cracked a window and sniffed as subtly as possible, not smelling the salty brine of the ocean for once. Had they gone too far inland? He looked out his window, trying to get a sense for the terrain, of the soft dirt and the slow inclines and the— Oh, that scent. Slightly different, but familiar all the same.

“Think I drove us to the mountains, bro,” he said, softly. “Luckily, you can’t piss in Maine without hittin’ a campsite, so let’s keep driving for a minute. Park rangers might have a phone we can borrow, call, ugh, Darbussy and explain that we’re not skippin’ class. And then, like, have a fun, chill, bro weekend to ourselves, I guess? Head back in the morning, pretend it never happened, uh, ha, right, yeah.” He was rambling, he knew, but the last time he’d had a bit of a word vomit, Rio had noticeably calmed down. So, maybe his panic could prove some use. Winn flicked off the lights, flicked on his headlights, and continued down the road, a tight frown marring his usually sunny face.

Admittedly, Orion wasn’t heartbroken about missing the acting class field trip. Rio still wasn’t sure Darbussy even liked Rio. He could never get a read on her after he ran from the class that day. He couldn’t tell if she thought it had been part of his character or if he was skipping out on class. Either way, she hadn’t acknowledged him much outside of it. Maybe that was for the better though. Despite this, Rio was terrified at the idea of spending an entire night alone with Winn. Oh god. “Right. Yeah. I mean… hiking is fun! I like hiking and other stuff. I guess… let’s do it? Just pick a place.” Rio jumped out of the car as soon as Winn had parked and stretched out his muscles, staring up at the sky. The sun had not completely set yet, though the sun was beginning to creep towards the horizon. A few stars were already visible across the sky. “This place looks pretty. Want to hike up that mountain there and see if we can find a place to set up?” Hiking would pass the time and get them closer to the morning.

“You don’t sound too convinced,” Winn mumbled, huffing out a laugh under his breath. Didn’t want Rio to think he was makin’ fun of him or nothin’. Winn sniffed the air again. No signs of anythin’ that’d make their life uncomfortable for the night, even if they were more or less roughin’ it. He pulled out a map the park official had handed them on their way in and squinted at it for a moment before handing it to Rio. “Looks like there’s some trails out here, leadin’ up the mountain some. Don’t think y’want to be in one of the big areas, but looks like there’s some single-tent clearings? So long as we can see the stars, I’m a happy camper.” Ha. He popped the trunk, slinging his bag out and onto this back, along with the tent he’d brought along in a rare moment of forethought. Darbussy hadn’t made it clear whether or not they’d be goin’ with a cabin or what. He started walking, letting Rio set the pace. “We might both be up late, given what you said earlier, but you’ve got a sleepin’ bag or somethin’? I run hot, so I don’t mind you usin’ mine, if you need it.” The winter chill hadn’t entirely left the air, but Winn would be comfortable down to a certain point. The thick scent of pine entranced his senses, reminding him, simultaneously, of home and of something new. Hiking always had that appeal to him — of nostalgia and discovery workin’ in tandem. “Soooooooooooo,” he drawled, trying to let Rio pick a topic of conversation. He’d never been great with silence, unless he was in a session. But he was still figurin’ Rio out. Best to encourage any openin’ up the younger man wanted to do.

The two worked to unpack their things from the back and then set off on a trail that Orion assumed would lead up to the clearing that Winn had pointed again. Given that they had already gotten lost once, Rio wasn’t entirely convinced they would end up where they were supposed to go. But as long as they knew how to get back to the car in the morning, he supposed it didn’t matter much. “Have you seen my clothes?” Rio attempted humor, holding his arms out and spinning around, the baggy hoodie swinging out widely in response. “I’m basically always wearing a sleeping bag.” It wasn’t that the cold didn’t bother him, Rio found himself cold quite often during the winter. It was more that he wore layers of clothes all the time that helped keep him warm. “My family used to go hiking sometimes.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but as he looked up at the sky as things began getting darker and the stars got brighter and brighter, sparkling across the sky and lighting the path for them. Not that either of them needed it, honestly. Rio had no issues seeing at night, and the constant tingling feeling was proof enough that Winn didn’t either. “They’re all super active. Big into competition. Hiking became more of a like… sport. It was all about the race. Some big competition to get to the end of the trail first. I never really got the chance to appreciate all the views.” But that wasn’t exactly a stellar conversation. “You uh- you must like the woods right?” Jesus Christ. Rio facepalmed himself silently and rubbed at his temples. What kind of stupid question was that? “I mean uh- that’s what dudes do right? They like the outdoors and stuff? Or something?”

“Adorable,” Winn said, deadpan, as Rio spun around in the setting sun. It was, but Winn figured as much distance between the truth as possible was likely warranted. “But forreal, if you need the bag, take it. Hell, we can just unzip it and use it as a blanket. Tent’s a little snug, as it is, since it was mostly my backup plan.” He hadn’t planned on sharing it with anyone, but Rio was fairly small. They could make it work. If Rio didn’t want to be as far away as possible, that was. “Same, actually. Well, not the competition thing. My gran’pa, my mom’s dad, was a coal miner, so we went into the mountains pretty often to see ‘m. I spent a lot of nights, when I was young, listenin’ to the crickets ‘n frogs, watching the stars and tryin’ to catch a new one formin’. Ambitious little asshole, in that regard.” He laughed, mostly to himself. “Doesn’t seem like your all that competitive, no ‘ffense, really. Think I like you just the way you are.” He whistled for a moment, content with the walking, taking a long drink of water while Rio rambled slightly. He cut the younger man off with a gentle: “I do. ‘S in the name, right?” He laughed again, louder, at a joke that Rio couldn’t possibly pick up on. “I’ve always felt a little more at-home in the woods, honestly. I like the city, I do, but there’s somethin’ out here that feels more… real? Present? But naw, not every dude has to want to go white water raftin’ to be a load of fun. Way I see it, we should all get to choose our own paths, our own things we like to do. Who cares ‘bout what dudes should wanna do? If y’want to be a mountain man? More power to ya. But there’re lots of things that folks who keep themselves in boxes miss out on.” He paused, looking up at the sky and considering his next words as carefully as possible. “Don’t know if I would’a ever kissed a guy, if I hadn’t shoved myself outta the ol’ box. And even then, I still got so stuck in it, for so long.” There was something wistful to Winn’s voice, a precarious sort of melancholy that seemed like it could tip over into mournful at a moment’s notice. And yet, he smiled.

Orion had to turn away from Winn to hide the red in his face. He had instantly blushed at Winn’s compliment, but didn’t need that embarrassment on top of all the other things today. He was pretty sure he didn’t have a crush on Winn. At least, it didn’t feel the same way it had with other guys Rio had previously had a crush on. But Winn was still a hot guy complimenting him so… yikes. “No offense taken. I’m not competitive at all. I don’t really care about winning.” That had to be a good thing, considering he spent so much time losing. Wouldn’t have been good for his psyche if he was a sore loser on top of being bad at things. “I get that. I used to think I wanted to be one of those people. The like… outdoorsy woodsy type.” Rio sighed, maybe he still did. He couldn’t tell anymore. “But I’m kinda comfortable with being a nerd, honestly. I like reading from the comfort of my own home.” Winn’s words about kissing a guy struck a weird, sympathetic chord in Rio. He didn’t even know that kissing dudes was something that Winn did on like… a regular basis. He had still been half-convinced that the kiss in theater class had been some kind of joke on the new student clearly flustered by the attractive actor. So, hearing Winn say the words made Rio feel… weird. “Maybe someday I’ll fall out of my box too?” Knowing Rio, it would probably be face first. “You seem to have a pretty good handle on yourself though. Like… who you are as a person?”

“I know exactly who I am,” Winn said, chipper and confident. “But it wasn’t an immediate thing or nothin’. Took work.” What was that old phrase? Anythin’ worth doin’ was worth doin’ well? Winn didn’t regret the time it had taken him to step out of his parents’ expectations, to become more of the person he was today. But he wouldn’t lie to Rio either; it had been rough. There had been some dark moments. But, speakin’ of the dark… The sun had set fully now, the stars darting the sky. Winn paused, whistling low as he looked skyward. “Beautiful.” He scanned the line of the sky for Boötes, having picked up a little star-gazing from his nights under the moon. Okay, now, Ursa Major should be… He glanced further to the right, stopping midway to Ursa Major and squinted, thanking his werewolf senses for the ability to really gaze at the beauty of the dimmer stars. “There,” he said, pointing. “Canes Venatici. Or, the hunting dogs, probably of Boötes. But they’re a little hard to see, so…” He traced his finger, farther and farther over until he found it: “There you are,” he said, smiling. “Or, Orion anyway. But I’m sure you knew that. Behind him, though, there’s the real dog star. Sirius, with Canis Major. Any earlier, and it would’ve been under the treeline, I think. We got real lucky. A Hunter and his loyal dog. Or… dogs, anyway. Canis Minor is… somewhere around here.”

“I’m glad you do.” Orion trailed behind Winn, watching him as he walked. It certainly did seem that way, didn’t it? Winn seemed so sure of himself. He talked to people like he had known them his whole life. He walked with a sort of confidence that Rio could only hope to achieve. And he talked about himself with no hesitation in his voice. In Rio’s eyes, it couldn’t just be an act. Nobody was that good at faking it, right? If so, how did Rio learn how to do it? “Everytime I think I do, something comes along and shakes my world.” Rio stopped hiking and stood by Winn, happy to let him point out constellations along the sky. Though Rio didn’t know exactly where to spot a lot of them, he was familiar with the names. “The stories about Orion are all so different that it’s sometimes easy to forget that almost all of them involved his hunting dogs.” How ironic, the Hunter aided by a beast. “It’s said that people in the Nile used Sirius to signal the flood of the Nile River. It symbolized the Sun God Osiris rising from the dead.” He continued staring up at the sky, getting lost in the stars as the cool breeze provided a break in the silence. But eventually the wind was enough to make Rio shiver from the cold, and he broke from the haze. “Come on. I think we’re probably getting close.” For show, Rio flicked on a flashlight. It didn’t affect his vision much, but he was supposed to be a human. The two continued towards the camp, quieter for the final parts of the trip. Finally, the two found the clearing in the trees and Rio happily discarded the bags he had been carrying, dropping them on the ground in a pile and stretching out his arms to relax the strain in his muscles. “Wooh. That was exhausting. We made it!”

“Exhausting, but fun!” Winn chimed in, shrugging the tent off of his back and into a pile with his bag. “C’mon, help me set this up, bro.” If Winn was bein’ honest, it had been a minute since he’d slept in a tent proper. He was, more often than not, content to find a soft patch of ground, let the wolf come out, and keep his ear out for any threats. That long year he’d spent in the mountains, he’d gotten used to it, and, sometimes, he wondered if that wasn’t part of his insomnia. Tonight, he hadn’t brought any aram with him, not wantin’ Rio to get into it (or worse, ask questions), so he was prepared to lay awake, stuck with his thoughts for company. Given enough time, he’d reorganize the entire team six different ways before settlin’ back on their current arrangement. The work went quick, despite Rio claimin’ he wasn’t much of an outdoorsman, and Winn glanced over at the storage container, undoing the heavy latch and sliding it open. “Grab some snacks and we’ll throw the rest in here. Don’t want a bear comin’ after us.” Not that a bear would be a huge inconvenience. It had been… a minute, since Winn had fought one off, but he could still do it. Probably.

No sooner than he’d said the word bear, there was a soft rustle in the bushes. Winn stifled a growl, wolf already on alert. “Aw, fuck. Stay back, Orion.” There was a long stick, left near the firepit, and Winn crouched down to grab it. His eyes trained on the spot where he’d heard the noise, and he used the stick to push back the brush. “Oh, what the fuck,” he said, recoiling back as the creature approached him, snarling. Its tentacles moved slowly, whipping at leaves, and its canine skull was, near as Winn could tell, poking through the remains of its skin. He dropped the stick immediately, kicking off his boots behind him and pulling off his shirt. Then, he remembered. Rio. Shit. He could feel the change coming, his claws and fangs eager to tear through in the moonlight… and he wasn’t sure he could stop it.

Orion didn’t mind helping Winn set up the camp. He didn’t know what he was doing really, but the tent wasn’t that complicated. Plus, Rio was really looking forward to finishing up with everything so he could finally relax and lay back.

Of course, the noises out in the woods would ruin that plan. Rio heard the rustling bushes, immediately tensing up. If Rio had been logical, he would have assumed it was a rabbit or deer or something else completely normal to be out in the woods. But because Rio was paranoid and terrified of basically everything, his immediate thought was some kind of killer monster that wanted to kill them. Or worse, a werewolf Hunter. Or worse-worse, his parents. Rio didn’t waste any time jumping behind Winn as they faced the potential threat. Rio was pretty sure Winn would be more useful in a fight against whatever came out of the woods anyways. But thank god for both of them, the creatures that came out from the woods were practically harmless. Rio breathed a sigh of relief. He had never actually seen a Yeth Hound in person, and had to admit that they certainly looked terrifying. But despite the horrifying appearance and Rio’s typical attitude of being scared of practically anything that moved towards him too quickly, he couldn’t have any other reaction besides excitement towards the creatures.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Winn had the same amount of information as Rio did. He discarded the stick and began kicking his boots off before ditching the shirt as well. Rio immediately blushed, knowing this wasn’t the time to think about that, but suddenly very interested in looking at anything other than Winn’s chest. Rio grabbed onto Winn’s arm, “Hey, don’t—” he started, but it looked like the transformation had already begun. Rio could see the claws extending and Winn was shaking against Rio’s hand. And he was strong. “Winn!” Rio tried again, louder this time. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as he wrapped his other arm around Winn’s stomach and planted his feet into the ground, putting a bit more Hunter strength into it this time as he tried to hold Winn back. “They’re not going to hurt us! I promise. They’re called Yeth Hounds and they’re harmless!”

Every transformation was different, every time the wolf was let out had the potential to go wrong. There would always be a part of Winn worried that this time would be the time that the wolf really went wild, tearing apart everything in its path. Like he’d expected, Winn wasn’t able to stop himself from transforming, once he began. It was still too close to the Full Moon, he was still too amped up from his encounter with the asanbosam. But he heard what Rio was saying, as the younger man tried to hold him back. In his wolf form, Winn was just bigger, and he felt, as his bones twisted and reformed, as the wooly fur spread across his skin, Rio being pulled up and onto his back, until the younger man was gripping at his coat. Winn growled softly, unsure how Rio, who had claimed he was no outdoorsman, had been strong enough to hold him back from leaping forward. There were a few answers, none which Winn liked.

The Yeth Hound approached them, and Winn crouched down, mock-bowing to the other canine. If Rio said that the Hound was harmless, Winn believed him… He crouched, to allow Rio to hop off of his back, if the other man wanted to, before sitting back on his hind paws, sniffing curiously at the Hound. The smell wasn’t quite as… dead, as he would’ve thought and, like Rio had indicated, Winn didn’t sense any malice from the other creature. Juliet had been dubious, given her normal quarry was (dangerous) werewolves, on other species and how dangerous, or not dangerous, they were, but, as Hunters were wont to do, had recommended Winn assume they were all dangerous. Of course she would say that, even as generally on the side of angels that Jules would. Hunters were indoctrinated in their ways, even the ones that were less stabby. Winn had been too eager to believe it, too, that other creatures might be a threat to him, to the safety of humans. But… Well, he wasn’t human. Not anymore. He couldn’t believe shit that black-and-white. It was a lot to think about… too much to think about when Winn was a giant wolf-man.

He whined curiously, nudging Rio’s back with his head, not wanting to change back (on the off-chance Rio was mistaken), but wanting an explanation as to what Rio knew about the creature. ‘Course, there was only so much he could communicate in this form. But, well, Rio clearly knew something, and far be it from Winn to not let the younger man talk. He stretched, languidly, setting one paw just in front of Rio, ready to protect, if given a reason.

Orion wished that he could have been more graceful while climbing off of wolf Winn’s back. Unfortunately, he was far too awkward to pull anything that cool off. He mostly slipped off, trying to hop to regain his foot once he landed but instead he twisted his ankle and crumbled to the ground and just barely caught himself at the last minute. He sighed at himself and shook it off, focusing instead on the exchange between Winn, now fully in wolf form, and the yeth hound. The whole thing was pretty incredible. Despite reading the books and being attacked by one, Rio had never actually seen a transformation in its entirety. It was… remarkable. And a bit scary.

Before leaving, the Yeth hound glanced over at Rio. Of course, despite everything indicating that this should be another creature that Rio was irrationally afraid of, the only thing Rio wanted was to reach out and pet the dog. But he knew better. Yeth hounds trailed behind humans, following them around from the shadows. They didn’t want that physical interaction with a human. Rio was respectful enough to acknowledge that. The creature, content with the two apparently, scurried back off into the woods. Rio was still shaking from the excitement of seeing one in person.

But that left him alone with Winn. And not just Winn, but Winn in wolf form. He supposed that a conversation needed to be had at some point now. “I’ve always wanted to see a Yeth hound. Since I was a little kid.” Rio detoured, staring at the spot in the bushes it had originally emerged from. “My sister never really understood it. I was so scared of everything and yet all I wanted was to have one as a pet. Crazy right?” Rio laughed. Partly from the irony of his story and also because he was currently talking to a werewolf. A full on werewolf. “But uh- they’re harmless creatures really. They like the scares. But they wouldn’t actually harm anyone.” He didn’t know what Winn was thinking at this moment. Had he already connected the dots? Was he still trying to figure out why Rio wasn’t freaking out over the werewolf thing? Sometimes Rio wished that he could read minds. But instead all he could do was fall back against a tree, sliding down it until he was sitting on the ground and staring at the werewolf. “This is so cool. Holy crap.”

There were moments when there was nothing more than the wolf wanted to do than wag its tail. Encountering another wolf was usually the typical scenario. Despite Winn’s reservations about other wolves, his furrier half didn’t care. This time, however, his tail wagged at the human (?) in front of him, talking adoringly about the mons— creature that had just appeared before them. Winn tried his best to communicate his approval with a huff of air that could be mistaken for a laugh. The best thing, Winn figured, about being a wolf-man was that he could be expressive, marginally. Rio did seem scared of him, nor was he going in for the stabbing. So, Winn did what any curious animal would do and approached Rio, sniffing the younger man. Nothing on him… or, well, at least not wolfsbane or something equally bad. And then — partly because he figured it would be funny, partly because he got the sense Rio maybe knew that Winn was a werewolf before now, and partly because caving into his baser instincts was, sometimes, just rad — Winn licked the side of Rio’s face.

He bowed his head into Rio’s personal space — look, everyone wanted to touch the fur, Winn had wanted to touch the fur before he’d been turned — allowing the man to poke and prod at him if so chose. Then, because he’d have to turn back eventually, Winn sniffed at the perimeter, stalking around the clearing for any signs of bears, moose, or the like. His human form hadn’t sensed anything, but, well, then he’d found the yeth hound. So, clearly, another look around was in order. And, oh. There was an idea. Rio had said it was cool to see Winn in this form and, short of riding him around the woods, there was one more thing werewolves were pretty famous for. He reared back on his hind legs, coming up to stand tall, inhaled deep and howled at the still-mostly-full moon in the sky. It wasn’t a mournful howl, or an angry howl, but a howl of pure pleasure at being allowed to run free.

But all things had to come to an end eventually and, after another gentle head-butt to Rio’s chest for good measure (and… well… maybe some pets), Winn dipped just outside of the clearing, behind the tent, and shifted back to his human form. ‘Course, that left a naked Winn Woods standin’ behind their tent and, while Winn didn’t have any shame to speak of, he figured he should ask before flashing Rio. “Bro,” he started, “if you could go in my bag and pull out a spare pair of shorts, that would be, like, so great.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the younger man because, well, why not?

Orion still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the fact that the wolf in front of him was Winn. Moments ago, he had been a human, setting up camp with Rio. Now he was… well, a wolf. Rio had known about werewolves his entire life, studied them and memorized everything he could about the species. Yet, this moment was still more informative than anything he could ever see in a book. He knew a werewolf. In real life, knew one. Winn sniffed at Rio and eventually licked his face. Rio laughed and backed away nervously, wiping at his face. Was it weird to accept licks from someone he knew was a human? Where did the rules stand with werewolves? He knew where his family stood on the issue, obviously.

Eventually, Winn took off, and Rio decided not to follow. Opting to hang back and observe instead. He seemed… happy? He couldn’t be sure, but Winn seemed to enjoy being in this form, out in the wild. Rio had always seen werewolves as strictly human, the wolf form being something that they only used when necessary or when forced by a full moon. It had never occurred to him that some may like or maybe even prefer the wolf form. And then Winn did what Rio had always wanted to see, he howled. Against the Hunter’s hearing, it was unbearably loud. But despite flinching and squeezing his ears shut between the palms of his hands, Rio was smiling the entire time.

Winn came back over to Rio once more and nudged against him. Unsure what else to do, Rio tapped his hand against the wolves head. Was that what Winn had wanted? Was petting something that he… enjoyed? It was an entirely new world for Rio. He had no idea what to do or expect. His heart raced a mile a minute. And it only got worse once the wolf disappeared behind the trees and he suddenly heard Winn’s voice again. Shorts? Oh god. He turned beat red immediately, frantically leaping for the bag and grabbing out shorts, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand for an extra precaution. He stumbled through the woods, tripping over branches and dips and flat out falling at least once. But eventually he made his way to Winn’s voice and held the shorts out, waving them wildly until Winn grabbed a hold of them. “Sorry, uh— Wow. That was… so cool. And crazy. But cool. And did you see those Yeth hounds? Incredible. They look like something straight out of a Goosebumps story. So creepy.”

Winn winced as Rio tripped and stumbled his way through the brush, eyes closed, hand clamped. Not that he was one to go around assignin’ sexuality or anythin’, but… If a higher power hadn’t made this dude gay, they’d sure made him confusing. Not for the first time, Winn wondered if he’d accidentally stolen Rio’s first kiss. Which… oops. He slipped on his shorts, tapping Rio on the shoulder when he was mostly-clothed again, sidling around the backside of the tent to look for his thrown shirt. “Hmm,” Winn said, intelligently. It… Well, honestly? Rio was right. It had been cool, even if Winn had almost gone toe-to-toe with somethin’ harmless just ‘cause it looked weird. “Yeth hounds.” The words felt odd in his mouth, but, then, what new supernatural thing hadn’t sounded weird. Hell, even the word “ghost” was loaded, nowadays, full of things he didn’t know.

But… There was the lingering question, in the back of his mind, somethin’ he needed to clear up before he got too attached to his new friend — even if that friend hadn’t tried to kill him, had looked delighted to see a werewolf up close (and, thank fuck, the wolf had played nice today). “So… Didn’t seem too surprised to see me get all, y’know, furry. Knew a bunch about the hounds, too. Now, you didn’t knife me the second I turned, and you seem pretty chill — and, like, I have friends who do the…” He trailed off. Rio deserved a firm question, more than his rambling. “Are you a Hunter, Orion?” There. It was out there, and Rio could deny it, but… Well, like, he had the feelin’ this dude was bad at lyin’. “No judgment,” he added, as an afterthought. Just because Rio had known, probably, what Winn was, didn’t mean he was obligated to tell Winn everything about himself, so, before he could answer, Winn barked out a laugh.

“My name is Winn, and I’m a werewolf.”

It couldn’t be avoided, Orion supposed. He had used the Hunter strength. He certainly hadn’t meant to. But it was too late now. The last thing that Rio wanted to do was expose himself as a Hunter to Winn. He didn’t want to be hated. He liked Winn, enjoyed hanging out with him. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why Winn liked him back. “No— I’m not.” Rio began, sure that he wanted to be honest. “I mean, yes. Technically speaking. I don’t really like to acknowledge that though.” He was nervous, scratching at the back of his neck. He didn’t know how to explain this away. If Rio had been a werewolf, alone on a mountain with a Hunter, he probably wouldn’t take it very well. “But I’m not a Hunter. I don’t… hunt. Anything. And I definitely don’t want to be known for that.”

Rio laughed at Winn’s joke, rolling his eyes and stepping away and towards the tent. “I’m not saying I’m a Hunter, just fyi. But uh—very funny!” He climbed inside the tent. It wasn’t big, but it would be fine for the night. Especially after Rio stacked six pounds of pillows and blankets between the two of them. The last thing Rio needed was thrashing around and touching Winn during the night. Nope. No thanks. If there weren’t enough pillows or blankets he would figure something else out. Like their bags, or branches. Whatever it took.

Once he had divided everything in the tent, Rio finally settled in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? Winn knew about Rio being a Hunter and he hadn’t yelled at him, left him or killed him. That was insane. “Okay well… don’t kill me in my sleep tonight, please. I promise I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. Actually, I think it’s insanely cool. But I think I’m going to bed?” Rio didn’t really do sleepovers or the like. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to sleep tonight. But he could pretend to be. “So, uh— I guess we go to sleep now? This is so awkward, oh god. Uh… night?” Oh boy. This was going to be a long night.

[thingsandtrichotillomania]

Week 4

School

I honestly just didn’t feel like doing daily updates. Classes have been good, I haven’t dropped any of them. I can tolerate the work load. Most of the instruction is online. I’ve opted to go to my Sociology class on Mondays and Wednesdays when I can, and Japanese is only hosted in class on Wednesday. The rest of it is online discussion boards. I don’t have to show up for any video calls other than Japanese on Fridays. 

The dorm is okay. My sister and I think that our roommate is fake though. She got super upset about dishes or something, but didn’t tell us an issue. I over herd her complaining to her boyfriend before she slammed the door as she left and didn’t come back for like a whole ass day. I’m over it though. I really don’t care. We do our dishes, at least they are clean. Though we do know now to not forget to then put them away, but it’s not like its 10+ dishes, mostly 5 or less. Our roommate though will leave dishes in there overnight or through the whole day so like, she has the bigger issue. ANYWAYS.

I honestly haven’t stayed at the dorm much. I’ve come home pretty much every weekend except for move in weekend. Meaning I sleep there maybe 3 nights before going home. I was going to go back after labor day weekend and then stay the whole week (8 days) before coming back but my little brother’s birthday party is later this month and it “messed up” my hypothetical plan.

Job w/School

A few days ago, Eric suggested since I’m most likely going to be coming home every weekend, why not go back to work. I’ve been talking about going back to work since my funds have pretty much dried out already and who knows when my school money will get here. I had already applied to a store 6 minutes from where I’m staying at campus but I haven’t heard back. And I know at the store I used to work, it’s a guaranteed job.

So on Friday (two days ago) I went there and asked Anthony for my job and ofc he said yes. They’ve been struggling with having enough of people so I’m very much needed right now. 

The plan is to work Thursday - Saturday, about 6 hours each day. I’ll go back to campus on Sunday and then be there until Wednesday evening or Thursday morning before coming back home to work. I’m glad to be going back to work.

Labor day messed up going back this week though. I’ve only really got one class this week and it’s Sociology on Wednesday, I don’t even have to go to that though, I can do that online. So I’ve opted to just drop my sister off at the dorm on Monday evening and get my clothes to do laundry, and then come back. Then I’ll work Tuesday - Saturday just to rack up some hours before going back to campus on Sunday evening. Then we go to the schedule mentioned above.

I think it’ll be a good plan? That way I’m going to school, but also having a purpose to come home and won’t feel too guilty for doing so. And this doesn’t even have to be an all school year thing. I could just do this this semester and then next semester, be more on campus, with more in person classes. Boom plan.

Therapy

Therapy has been okay. We have moved slightly away from anxiety and I’m trying to push it more of in a gender direction. Don’t get me wrong, I still suffer from anxiety and it sucks, but right now gender has been screaming at me just a bit more, so I’m going to finally pay attention to it. It’s been ignored for long enough and it’s about time I figure out who I am. 

I do feel guilty for not using my coping strategies I’ve been taught. I should use them more. The worry tree, my popsical sticks, what I can and can’t control, etc. But I am so so focused on my gender issues that I kind of forget to, either that or my anxiety is just swept under and it’s going to manifest again and get worse.

She had to cancel our last session. I figured it was because last time she told me that she was going on a trip this weekend for labor day and that I was her last scheduled for Friday morning. I guess something came up and I wasn’t able to be seen. That’s fine though. I just don’t know when my next appointment is, which is a bit scary because it seems to be that every time I go to schedule one, she’s almost all booked for the next week. 

Tbh I’m a bit nervous. I hope that the notification doesn’t bother her. I’m sorry. I forgot I could request an appointment so I just did for Thursday at 4:30, which means I might just ask for Thursday off so I can go to campus and get Sabrina and do Eric’s thing and have therapy online. Either that or I can just request to go in at 6. I need to figure out something soon though bc it’s Sunday. Hmmmm. I think I’ll just go in at six.

Gender

The last topic I wanted to rant about today, honestly the thing that made me come here. I keep saying I don’t know but like, I know some things. I right now am between non-binary and trans.

Non-binary describes the moments where I just don’t give a fuck about my gender. It’s like, something in the back of my mind. I still don’t like female pronouns or body bits and things, but it’s not “important”. I tend to aim towards an androgyny look, but at the same time, shorts don’t really bother me, I see it as a necessity bc it’s hot.

Trans describes mainly what I’m feeling right now. Where I really don’t like body bits or how I’m viewed socially. I get dysphoria over my chest, and bottom bits. I want to bind or chop off my tits. I want to appear as male and start Testosterone. The issue with that is I really don’t want all of the extra body hair or a super deep voice. Also Eric said he didn’t really know how to feel about it either. He expressed dislike for the extra body hair and changing of lower body bits. And I love him more than anything in the world, but I also just want to feel comfortable.

I can’t argue with him right now, because I really don’t know what I EXACTLY want with myself either. I can’t fight to start T and express how happy it’ll make me because I just don’t know. I feel like the only thing I do know right now is that I want my boobs out of here and to be seen as male. It’s just so hard because family, and I don’t even know where to begin with telling them.

I came out to my sister, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that. She still doesn’t call me Skylar or use male pronouns. I don’t really correct her though, so it’s my fault. 

September 6th, 2020

[thejosh1980]

Update #21 – 1 week at “The Ocean Shores Resort”

Update #21 – 1 week at “The Ocean Shores Resort”

A week ago we left quarantine in Adelaide!!!

It's been another week of mixed emotions, but I have to say, for the first time in months, they've been mostly on the positive side of things.

Last Tuesday, we left the hotel without too much hassle. They'd given us a basic breakfast the night before to have first thing and they called us down early; luckily we were ready and down the stairs we went. Before you know it, we were in the hotel reception taking our masks off!

Adelaide and South Australia are COVID free, so no masks, no problems.

The checkout was quick (the big bill comes in a few weeks!!), the staff were awesome and the police informative. They all understand that quarantine is not easy on anyone, and they were patient with our questions and worries. We had won the jackpot of quarantine hotels: Pullman Adelaide and the staff helped make our stay tolerable.

Jumped in a taxi (with masks on cause we really weren't sure yet how to behave in the outside world) and off to the airport. We had to leave the hotel by 07:30, because another bus of incoming “Covicts” were coming in that morning. Our flight was at 11:50 up to Brisbane, so it was yet another waiting game to check in and fly. But first... coffee! (we actually bought a coffee from a coffee shop! Amazing!! It's the small things...).

The flight was about about 2/3's full, no masks.

Landing in Brisbane we had to do a border check, show our papers, explain where we had been and all that. The check was there to stop anyone who may have COVID from coming in without quarantining. Each State has slightly different rules, and they do change from time to time, depending on hotspots and COVID numbers. Because the flight was from Adelaide and we left the hotel directly to the airport, we made sure we had no problems entering Brisbane (Queensland). We definitely didn't want any chance of another 14 day hotel stay!!!

Our original plan was to fly into the Gold Coast airport, which is only about 35 minutes from Mum, but there were no flights on our leaving day, so we had to fly into Brisbane (which is 2 hours from Mum's). My cousin picked us up (bloody legend!). We were hungry, and we went directly to Yatala pies. This was the moment I started to realize we were almost home. The taste of home! (Yatala Pies is a well known bakery south of Brisbane, a regular stop for many).

My cousin could drive us as far as the QLD/NSW border. Once there, we walked across the border and Dave picked us up on the other side. A little complicated, but sure enough, the plan worked.

The whole experience felt like something out of the movies. Not that it was all “Hollywood”. It was more like: I can't believe this is finally happening. I wasn't really in the moment. Yet.

As we were getting close to “The Ocean Shores Resort” (which is the name we have for my Mum's house) I still didn't feel calm...

Anyhow, we arrived, and if you've seen our IG or FB Story on the day, you'd know that when I knocked on the front door, we had actually surprised Mum (a little early), and she couldn't find the front door key to let us in!! So our reunion started off with a scream and eventually a laugh!!

Mum did cry, but we all expected her to cry more... ;) Honestly, I think we both had cried too much the past 2 months, it was no longer needed. It was all about joy and happiness.

After meeting and hugging Alex (some more tears) we entered the house to find Mum had a “welcome home” sign and our picture up on the walls (lots of me and Alex, can't go wrong with that!!).

It was surreal.

A quick house tour for Alex and we settled down. Lots of chatting and catching up to do, and a roast dinner!

We'd made it.

The next morning (Wednesday), a son's work is never done and I was up early to take Mum to school. She's part of the support unit inside the primary school, working with kids with Autism.

Even though her eyesight is deteriorating, Mum can still work. Driving a car; that's out of the question. Reading the “use by date” on a packet of chips is almost impossible. Keeping an eye on children in the playground, developing their social skills or helping them with their school work (considering the text is usually quite large and the pictures bold) Mum can still do really well.

I've learnt she has figured out ways to cope with her eyes. She has a great memory, so once she's told something, she can remember it really well (like recipes for cooking etc). She's still a keen bargain hunter when it comes to shopping. I enjoy learning that she's kept her life as close to “normal” as possible, making small changes to the bigger things to keep her independence.

But it's those small things that are hard to do alone, which is why I'm here...

After dropping Mum off, Alex and I spent the morning of our first full day in Brunswick Heads. This is the town I lived in from the mid 80's until late 90's. I went to primary school here, learned to surf here, and know the old names of the shops (the hair dressers is now a surf shop, the butcher's is a cafe, the ice cream shop is a real estate agent and the bank has recently closed). Lots of changes for me, lots of new things for Alex.

We also went down to the beach, the south wall of the Brunswick River, where the river meets the ocean. We watched some waves. Taking in the salt air (I don't think I ever realized how salty the air is here until now).

It was a relaxing day.

But I still wasn't quite “here” in my head and heart. Leaving Dresden back in July, only to be delayed for 7 weeks, then another 2 weeks in quarantine, was going to take sometime to overcome.

Time to pick up Mum from school... Home... Unpack a little, dinner, chatting and a little TV.

Thursday morning, it was time for another radio interview. To finish off the 3 part story with ABC North Coast Radio I did another live interview with Joanne Shoebridge. I'm always nervous doing these kinds of things, even though in the music world, I've had to do interviews, they were never quite as personal as this.

After we dropped Mum off at school Thursday morning, we drove up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse and luckily got a park up close to the top.

I wanted to introduce Alex to the area as much as I could, without overwhelming her. Brunswick Heads, Ocean Shores, Mullumbimby and Byron Bay all played a big part of my childhood, and I wanted her to at least know these villages a little bit as early as possible. We'd covered Brunswick Heads and Ocean Shores a little, so now it was time for Byron Bay.

Bring on the whale watching!!

Within minutes of leaving the car, we could see whales jumping out and swimming around the cape. It was a wonderful morning. I'm so glad Alex got to see them (in fact I can't remember the last time I saw whales so close to the shore). They migrate each year around September/October, so it was perfect timing.

It was a special day for Alex...

The sun was shining, the whales were in plain sight and the tourists were kind enough to stay away from Byron Bay. COVID does have its benefits. Fewer people in these tourist spots isn't always bad (although I am quite aware the economy is suffering. The borders are opening up next week and it'll be very busy then).

Back into Ocean Shores, picked up Mum from school. Home... Dinner.. Chatting... Some TV...

Friday was the first day we had to do “stuff” in regards to living here permanently, and that was banking. So after dropping mum off at work, we drove into Mullumbimby “The Biggest Little Town In Australia”. I went to high school here.

Basically Brunswick Heads and Mullumbimby are like Neustadt in Dresden. You can't walk down the street without seeing someone you know, stopping and chatting. It happened in Brunz the other day, I literally parked my car, and lo and behold an old high school friend came out of the video store to say hi... Or in Mullum, as we arrive at the bank I see an old friend who used to teach me rock n roll dancing (yeah, I can still cut a rug)... and even inside the bank, I said hi to a fella from my high school year, we hadn't seen each other since 1997.

It's a small world...

The banking took a bit longer than expected, after much back and forward we settled on our new bank accounts and how to arrange things going forward. While I've had an account here since I was very very young, I cancelled most of my stuff when I left in 2002, so now it was time to set up shop again, especially since I had my wife with me and we have a future to work towards...

We walked the street of Mullum, grabbed a coffee and we let the country hippy vibe soak in. Alex commented on how many folks don't wear shoes here and she can't believe how many new coffee shops there are for her to try (there's a lot more than when I was a kid).

Picked up Mum from school... School holidays for 2 weeks! Yippeee!!

Home... Dinner... Chatting... some TV...

Over the weekend we sorted out things around the house. Set up better internet Wifi around the house, the pool is in good condition after the winter sleep, cupboards got cleaned out and we unpacked and the car was washed (first time I've hand washed a car in over a decade!).

Sunday I watched Mark's live stream (from his front porch in upstate New York) and I felt inspired (he does that to me). So I am considering live streaming next week. I have a guitar and good internet, so why not? I just have to find time to practice ;) I'm thinking net Sunday evening here, which would be Sunday lunch time in Germany. If I don't get to it this Sunday, then maybe next Sunday... I'll keep you posted.

Overall the weather has been warm, often over 20 degrees. But the mornings are still quite chilly, with frosty dew on the golf course out back. It's not bad for coming out of winter...

Today, Monday, we went “up the coast”, to Tweed Heads.

First thing we tried to exchange my German license for a mandatory NSW (State) license, unfortunately I gotta wait for some back checks, no idea what I did 19 years ago in Melbourne, but they wanna check it out. So onwards to shopping...

Yes!!! We bought a coffee machine! Finally we can wake and with a press of a button get ourselves a cup of joe. It's the small things....

Helped mum with the grocery shopping. She knows her stuff. She knows where everything is in every shop, but sometimes she just needs me to reassure her what is actually written on the box or package!!!

So that's basically our first week...

We are settling in well. Alex and Mum get on like a house on fire. I often can't get a word in edgewise and I'm always outvoted!

I still miss Germany and I still miss Europe... (I always will). I miss a lot of the “past life”, but that's just cause Australia has moved on without me these past 18 years. Each day here I get a little closer to that homey feeling I used to have as a teenager (when I didn't know better).

In hindsight, the past 3 months wasn't too bad... We survived... But that's easy to say now...

When we were in the middle of it, it was really tough.

It was really hard packing up our lives into boxes. It was emotionally draining saying goodbye after goodbye to our wonderful friends. Playing my goodbye show was one of the musical highlights of my life, even if it was one of the saddest.

Then we were ready to leave...

As you all know, that didn't go according to plan.

That's when the really bad feelings crept in. You know it's one thing to know you gotta pack up and say goodbye to leave (you are prepared for that)... It's another when you're ready and the world says “nope, not yet”... and again and again that build up and let down was happening, and until the last 2 weeks in Germany, we had no idea why!

As some of you know, I'm not really good at spontaneity. I'm not good when the plan changes... It was tough... But...

When we took control of the situation and booked new flights, it helped a lot. We were back in control.

Quarantine was a difficult time, it got a little dark there. It brought with it, it's own set of challenges and a steep learning curve. I, for one, learnt a lot about pressure. I put too much pressure on myself. Since we arrived here, I have tried my best to relax more, in my own way at least. My to do lists are shorter...

Alex and I had already figured out how to survive the German lockdown, the packing up of our lives and clearing out the apartment. Then we had 2 months at her parents stuck in “limbo” and then 2 weeks stuck in a room together. Our marriage is really new, and we survived that without any damage to our relationship. Sure, we both have a few personal scars, but nothing a little love and tenderness wont fix. I'm proud of her, Alex has a lot of patience for me!

I'm really happy I am here to help Mum each day. Those small things will slowly become bigger things, but for now, it's great to be able to do “stuff” with her. That was always the plan, to be here in time, before things got really bad.

We've been posting often on our IG and FB stories, so I hope folks have seen the day to day happenings. I'm sure we'll continue with that, keeping you up to date visually.

I think I'll end these FB journals here, and switch over to Tumblr full time. The idea being that if you'd like to continue to read these long “new life” chronicles, I'll still post a link here when I do update there... Confused? Me too! ;)

Thanks everyone for your messages of support and love. We are very lucky, we have the best friends.... You guys rock! You're awesome! We love you.

Love

Josh and @dauntlesscoffee

[blueroan-equestrian]

Things Change People Grow up Ch2

talk of sex

encounter with an old bully

I finally finished it even tho it’s still just ok

ch1-

https://blueroan-equestrian.tumblr.com/post/186668963807/things-change-people-grow-up

I don’t know about you but writing makes me happy even when it’s crappy though sometimes it’s hard to write that’s why I read y’all a lot... like a lot.

Billy had gotten a job as a salesman at the local car dealership. I’ve stopped by to bring him lunch on days I had fewer classes or canceled class. I talked to his coworkers while waiting for him to wrap up a deal and it apparently was something he really excelled at. “Babe! Did your professor cancel class again?” He asked as he trotted up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He extended his arm out to a couple standing near a display car, “I’ll be right there, just give me a minute with my girl before we see about getting you into one of these fine cars.”

“It’s Finals week remember? I don’t have any today so I brought you lunch and was hoping we could talk but I can wait till you get home.” I babbled kissing his cheek and handing him the sack lunch. He placed a hand gingerly on my cheek before giving a quick peck on the lips and handing me the bag back, “Go ahead and wait in my office, we’ll eat lunch together. I still have the lunch that you packed for me this morning as you always do on Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays.” Tuesdays and Thursdays were my lighter days so I could bring him lunch by riding the bus over like I did today but today was Wednesday and I only had two more tests to do tomorrow.

“Right... I forgot.”

“Do you remember where my office is?” He asks rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, I do.” I sigh and leaned up to kiss him before we parted. I sat in his chair with one of my books sitting out in front of me on the desk. I studied as I waited for him to return.

Billy’s POV

I watched (y/n) bounce off before turning to the couple that I had waiting for me. The older woman who was waiting seemed delighted when she says, “What a lovely girl, I didn’t see a ring though.”

“No ma’am you didn’t, working on it though. I have been saving up so I can get her the ring she deserves. I have my mothers old family ring but its band is too small and when I resize it I’d like to have some modifications done first. But enough with that what are we looking for today?”

Y/N POV

As I was enraptured with my studying when I was picked up and set back down on a familiar lap. I look up to see Billy give me a charming, but apologetic smile, “I’m just going to close this deal real quick then we will have lunch. I got Twizzlers in the desk drawer if you would like to snack on that while you wait.” He asked while he dug out said Twizzlers.

“Mmmm Yeees!” I sang happily.

He gave me the Twizzlers before proceeding to close the deal he was in for another thirty-five minutes. He only picked me up so he could properly shake their hands and walk them out.

“Now baby, you ready for some lunch?” He hummed as he shut his office door.

I quickly put away my books and snagged the two lunches I had originally made for him and set them out before us.

He sat across from me where I sat, in the client's chair while I sat in his usual chair. He took a bite out of his sandwich before he asked, “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Christmas break... My mom said you could stay in the guest room.” I state eating my own sandwich.

“Oh? Does she know about you and I are living together?”

“No, but you did fall asleep after thanksgiving on the couch and you know how much my mom loves you.”

He shook his head, “No honey, she loves that I’m dating you not me.”

I sigh, “True enough but if you stay in the guest room you won’t be alone for the holidays.”

“Babe...I swear I’ll drive over for Christmas, I’ll even spend the night before I head back, but I have work and I... I’m going to move into my own place. No more mooching.” He says eating the rest of his sandwich.

“You’re not mooching, you pay for the heating bill and all the food.” I pouted.

“Come on babe, I’ll just be in a house near the dealership and you’ll see me plenty.” He chuckled leaning in to kiss my temple. “Now you can have your parents over without them red-flagging my stuff.”

“But I’ll miss snuggling with you at night. and My classload is going to be crazy.” We shared a chuckle but we quickly changed the subject.

My Dad ended coming over to surprise me and take me home and on Christmas Billy had come down to join us for Christmas family dinner.

We were all eating and joking around. Billy who sat beside me suddenly stood up. “(y/n) you are the smartest, and strongest woman I know. I know we’ve only been going steady for a short while, but you’ve made me so happy and I want to do the same for you for the rest of our lives. (y/full/n),” He got down onto one knee and then pulled out a familiar box... the box that held his mothers ring, though the ring inside looked different. “Will you make me the happiest man for the rest of my life so that I can hopefully do the same for you.”

Mother’s squeals could be heard from behind me, and the look on Billy’s face was one of pure love my voice seemed lost, so I simply leaned down and smashed my lips against his. He reached a hand up and into my hair to deepen the kiss before pulling apart to give me a soft smile, “Tell me that was a yes.”

“Yes.” I breathed before smashing my lips into his once again.

... After returning to school I ended up finding a sub-leaser so I could move in with Billy in the house he bought for us. We planned to marry in the following summer.

I am back in school now with extra coarsest trying to get through my degree faster. I plan on taking summer courses too.

I am super busy and only see Billy at night and some weekend days. Billy works a lot now trying to help pay for my coarse load. My parents are still paying but Billy wants to help ease the weight. I wish I could work to help too but I have always taken a big coarse load only now I am taking as many as they will allow. I am struggling to keep up but I really want to be graduated by the time we marry. Billy tells me he is fine with whatever I decide with school he will make it work but he shouldn’t have to work so hard to provide for me. I want to help... he is such a giver now and I just want to give back.

“Babe, come to bed you’ve been studying for hours. You need a good nights sleep before you take that test.” He called as he plopped under the covers of our shared bed.

“I can’t... I will in an hour I swear. It’s the last test I need to study for. I’ll turn off the light and go into the other room so you can get some sleep.” I hummed tiredly.

He yawned “No baby you will be fine just come to bed, you look exhausted. Please come snuggle with me it’s been a long day for both of us. This is the only time I get to see you please.”

I finally gave in and get into bed, “Goodnight Billy...I love you.”

“I love you too baby doll.” He mumbled as he fell asleep.

... it’s hard to be away studying all the time which is why I decided to truly take spring break for a break and spend it with Billy.

“Baby girl what do you want to do with today?” Billy asked giving me a hug from behind as I made us breakfast for the first time since before the semester really started.

I conformed myself into him enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms.

“I just want to be with you, my love. I just want you to know just how much I love you.”

“I love you too. But do you want to drive down to Indianapolis for a few days and play around a little, see a movie, check out some potential venues for the wedding while we are at it? We’ll get a hotel and maybe visit Dave who moved down to Indy after we graduated.”

Dave was friends with Billy when they were in school but he was someone I had avoided. But then again I had avoided Billy then too but here we are engaged. So I gave him a smile “Okay let’s do it then.” I turned in his arms and hug him leaning up for a passionate kiss.

“Awesome I’ll call Dave and ask for a recommendation for a hotel.” He called Dave I plated and set up the table.

I sat at the table waiting for him to return before eating and he returned “Great news! Dave said there’s a good place near his apparent and would be happy to help us shop venues tomorrow. Do you want to drive down now or tomorrow?”

“Uh how about we pack after we eat and then decide after that huh?” I chuckled.

...

The drive down to Indy was a little over an hour. Some of the time we spent singing along to the radio together, “Billy?”

“Hmm... love?” He glanced at me before returning his eyes on the road.

“So... what kind of place were you wanting to get married.”

“I don’t know where you want to get married.”

“Oh no I asked first and you were the one who brought up venue shopping.” I giggled.

He let out a sighed, “Somewhere near the water... I miss California... I’m not saying I want to go back, your family is here... But I’d like to be near the water on our big day.”

“Billy!” I gasped, “That’s so beautiful. Let’s look into that. We should check out some museums, and maybe the Indiana Central Canal. The Canal is supposed to be quite beautiful. There are some other places we can look at too.”

He smirked, “Your cute when you get excited.”

“Really? You think I’m cute?” I hummed happily.

“I asked YOU to marry me remember?” He playfully messed my hair up.

We arrived and checked into the hotel, “Ok, so the things to do today Dave has suggested a few things. There’s the Indiana Art museum with the 100 Acre Woods. There’s the Indiana Zoo. We can swim in the hotel pool. What kind of activity are we feeling like my love.” He hummed as he brought me into his arms swaying us back and forth.

“Hmm... I think it would be nice to go see some art and then see the woods. It would make a nice day.” I chime as I give him a squeeze.

“Alright let’s ask the front desk for directions and then head over.”

We spent the whole day walking around the halls and in the gardens. I was so beautiful. It made the wedding venue possibility list.

Tomorrow came around and though awkward it was okay at first. We went to see the canal which Billy seemed to agree that he would like getting married there, then to the memorials and ending at a lake and clubhouse that would be also a lovely place to marry. When we went to dinner, that’s where the problems started. I was coming back from the bathroom when I caught part of there conversation. “What do you mean the two of you haven’t fucked?” Dave scoffed.  “The only reason to be with a girl that looks like that is if she’s a really good lay.” Now let me explain, we’ve shared a bed but with Billy being so experienced and I with well nothing because he’s the only person I have been with... anyway I never approached the subject and he never pushed.

“Dave... Don’t be an ass. She’s my girl and she’s beautiful ... I know what I said in high school and... oh, hey baby uh... I hope you don’t mind but I ordered for you.” He rambled nervously.

I kissed his temple before sitting beside him, “Oh? What did you order?”

“(your favorite pop and food) that’s what you would have wanted right?” He asked giving me a quick peck.

“Yeah, that’s right. So... What do you think? We going to get married at the canal or we still looking tomorrow?” I asked kissing at his nose as if the extra display of affection would mark my territory.

“We can talk about that tonight. Okay?” He smiled again nervously.

Later at the hotel, I ducked into the bathroom saying that I needed a shower. I stood under the water thinking about what I heard. Was he unhappy with me not giving it up yet? Did he feel neglected of his needs and wants? Should I just come out him forthright? A candid conversation about what he needed and what he could wait for after marriage...

A soft knock came from the door followed by Billy’s soft voice “Princess? Are you alright? You’ve been in there for quite some time.”

I took a breath and answered, “Billy come in... we need to talk and I’m not ready to get out.”

He slowly and hesitantly opened the door and sat on the toilet. “Alright love what do you have on your mind?”

“Does it bother you that we haven’t had sex yet?” I stuttered out.

“So you did hear our conversation.”  Even with the water going I could hear his leg shaking.

“Yeah, I did,”

“Well... I don’t mind that we don’t have sex if you’re not ready... doesn’t mean I don’t still want to... I just take care of it on my own.”

“Billy... I love you so much. So, So much. But...” 

“You’re not ready, and that’s alright... I’m alright with that.”

I stuck my head out, “Billy?”

“Yeah?” His eyes wandered over what skin wasn’t hidden by the blurred door.

“Tomorrow... let's just elope.” I reached for him and he moved so my palm could perch on his cheek and pull him in for a kiss.

When we pull away, he hummed, “You really do have great breast.”

https://blueroan-equestrian.tumblr.com/post/187078912437/things-change-people-grow-up-ch3