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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Chapter 11- Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago

Summary: After an invitation from your cousin, you and Javi take a trip to Chicago to meet your family and attend her wedding.

Word Count: 14.6K (She's lengthy, your honor)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, drunk sex (all consensual, obvs), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint, but y'all already know) PTSD/anxiety around greif/loss, mentions of religion (the wedding is at a church), drinking alcohol/being drunk (that's what weddings are for, right?), your family being a hot mess but they're sweet and they love you and LOVE Javi, Javi being the best boyfriend ever 10,000 gold stars for him

A/N: Hi everyone!! Thanks for your patience as I finished cranking out this chapter (teaching is hard and children are exhausting), but we are finally done!! We are finally getting to meet Osita's family (eek!!!) and are one step closer to... THINGS *wink wink* happening hehehehe As always, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs, I love these two more than life and you supporting my lil stories means the world to me 🥺💕 My goal is to have chapter 12 done in the next two-ish weeks, thank you for your patience!

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“No, I know, Mom. Yes, I promise I will let her know by today. You understand why I’m having a hard time with this, right? I understand that Charlie and David are going. Okay. Yes. I know. I know, Mom. Tell Dad I say hi, too. Okay, love you too, bye.”

Javi could practically hear your exasperated sighs down the hallway, coming home from work to find you on the phone, hands rubbing against your temples as you finished your conversation with your mom. Since moving into your apartment together, Javi had become familiar with the routine of you taking time to talk to your mom once a week, even offering to hop on the call quickly to say hello if he was home. It was something he could tell you normally seemed to look forward to, seeing how much you missed your family considering it was September, and you hadn’t seen them since you moved to Texas in January. That’s why when he heard the frustration and annoyance over the phone, he gave you a concerned look that you quickly tried to brush away.

“Your mom?” Javi asked, hanging up his suit jacket on the back of the kitchen chair as he made his way over to you, giving you a quick kiss hello, wrapping his arm around your waist as you set down the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was my mom.” You huffed, Javi looking at you in confusion as an unfamiliar scowl covered your face.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, prompting you to come sit with him on the couch. You curled up next to him, laying your head in his lap as he played with the ends of your hair, waiting patiently to hear what had been bothering you so much from your phone call.

“It’s my mom just being my mom.” You grumbled, pushing your face deeper into Javi’s thigh, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your temples, making your head hurt. Javi could tell you were holding back, now taking his other hand to trace circles along your shoulder blades, trying to coax an answer out of you. He had come to learn that if something was bothering you, your stubbornness did not allude well to you sharing, insisting that you were fine until he was persistent enough to get it out of you.

Guess all those years of interrogation in the DEA were still good for something.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so grumpy after talking on the phone with your mom, and you guys talk all the time. What’s going on, Hermosa?”

Letting out a deep breath, you rolled over, the back of your head resting in Javi’s lap so you could look at him, those stupid, sweet chocolate eyes already staring back at you. “Fine, you win again, puppy dog eyes Peña. My cousin Kelly is getting married in a month. I was supposed to RSVP for us last week since she gave me a plus one, but I couldn’t make up my mind, so my mom has been trying to stall for me, but she said Kelly needs to know her final head count by tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want to go? I feel like I’ve heard you talk about Kelly, it seems like the two of you are pretty close?” Javi prodded, still knowing there was something you weren’t telling him.

“It’s in Chicago.”

Ah. There it was.

As much as you missed your family, there was a reason you hadn’t been back to Chicago since you moved to Laredo. Not because you didn’t want to see them. Not because you didn’t miss Chicago. Not even because you were worried about running into Paul. You didn’t want to go back to Chicago, because you hadn’t been there since your brother died. It was easy to blame your shitty ex for your cross country move, and that was a story that people seemed to understand without question. What they were missing was the real reason you up and left Chicago as fast as you did. It was because Patrick had died in December, and it took less than a month for you to realize you needed to be as far away from the memory of him as possible. Your parents had offered multiple times for you to come back and visit. They had even offered to pay for your flight to and from Texas to see them. Everytime you found yourself close to saying yes, you found that unpacked “Chicago” box staring at you in your living room, telling you that you just couldn’t do it yet. You hadn’t gone back, because that meant you had to face all of the things that you ran halfway across the country from. And that reason was much harder to explain as to how you had found yourself all the way in Laredo, Texas.

“You want me to be honest with you, Osita?” He looked down at you, fingers still curling around the ends of your hair in his lap.

“I guess.” You grumbled, letting out another sigh.

“It would be stupid for you to not go.”

“Javi you know that-“ you retorted, pushing yourself up to sit next to him.

“I know. I know what you’re gonna say. I get it. It took me a fucking decade to really face any of my family after my mom died because I thought it would be easier to ignore it. It wasn’t. It was still painful as fuck, and I wish I would have just ripped the bandaid off sooner. Your family misses you, baby. You can’t ignore it forever.” He leaned over to press a kiss against your temple, you still sulking in your silence. “When were you gonna tell me that you got a plus one to this thing, huh?” He smirked at you, finally getting a smile to curve from the ends of your lips.

“Never. I was planning on taking your Dad since I know he won’t pester me about doing the right thing and he’s more fun than you anyways.” You smirked back at him giving Javi a nudge before laying your head back down on his lap. You took a deep breath before you spoke again, closing your eyes with your exhale. “I know that you know you’re right, you don’t need to rub it in. You really think I should go? You’d come with me?” You glanced up at him as he smiled down at you.

“I thought I wasn’t invited.” He winked at you as you shook your head.

“Pendejo.”

“You love me. Yes, Osita. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d love to finally meet your family and be your date to the wedding.” That finally got you to smile, wrapping your arms around his leg, squeezing him tightly.

“Listen, don’t feel like you have to though, okay? I know it means you’re gonna have to take time off, and get plane tickets and-”

“Osita, I’m going with you. I think Morris would be fuckin’ relieved if I finally used some of my vacation days. Don’t worry about the tickets either.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss into the top of your head, feeling the smile of his lips against you.

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. I’m really excited for you to meet Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.” You laughed to yourself, pausing at Javi’s silence as he looked at you in confusion. “Abe Froman? The Sausage King of Chicago? Ferris Buler’s Day Off? Please tell me you’ve seen Ferris Buler’s Day off?” You were now back to sitting upright, looking at Javi in shock.

“Osita, who the fuck is Abe Froman?” Javi chuckled at you shaking your head in humor thinking he had any idea what you were talking about.

“The Sausage King of Chicago!!!” You grabbed his shoulders and shook him before he reciprocated, grabbing you back and playfully shaking you just as hard. “Fine, it looks like we’re watching Ferris Buler’s Day Off before we leave.”

“I don’t understand how this doesn’t make you nervous.” Your leg bounced frantically as you sat outside the bench of your airport terminal, glancing over at Javi, who couldn’t have looked less bothered, flipping through the pages of one of the books he had brought to read on the plane.

“Baby, if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re gonna put a goddamn hole in the floor.” He laughed, tucking his book back in his bag as wrapped his large palm around your knee, trying to settle your leg back into a resting position. “I promise it’ll be fine, it’s a 3 hour flight, it’ll go by fast.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you flew everywhere, all the time. I just don’t understand how thinking about the fact that we’re gonna be in a giant tin can, thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, at the mercy of a dude who you just hope knows how to fly you to your destination doesn’t make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants.” Javi draped his forearm across your lap, keeping both legs from bouncing as the leg he had left uncovered had quickly begun tapping against the tile floor.

Now boarding flight 1605 to Chicago, Illinois. Passengers, please have your boarding passes ready.

“Oh shit. Okay. I guess that means we’re getting on this metal death trap. Do you have our boarding passes? They’re in your bag right? You have all our-” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence as he cusped your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“I have it all. I promise it’ll be okay. C’mon, Osita.” He smiled, interlocking his hand with yours as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking you towards the gate.

Javi was thankful for both your sakes that it didn’t take long to board your flight, offering to suffer in the middle seat, hoping that letting you look out the tiny window of the plane would potentially ease some of your horrendous flying anxiety. Knowing you, it wasn’t a shock to Javi to find out that the thing that made you most stressed about flying is that you had absolutely no control over what was happening, which, to be fair, he couldn’t totally blame you for. As you had been waiting, you had been listening to your Walkman, putting an excessive number of CDs in Javi’s bag, not sure which one was going to make you feel the safest in the soda can you were about to take flight in. You had settled on listening to the Beatles Greatest Hits, hoping that blasting the familiar songs through your headphones would at least bring you a little comfort. Javi’s hand never left your leg, tracing small circles against your jeans as he thumbed through the pages of his book. Your music was loud enough that you hadn’t heard the flight attendants make the announcement that you were about to begin takeoff, so the sudden movement of the plane down the runway had you death gripping around Javi’s forearm and scrunching your eyes closed. Without saying a word, he took one of his hands and intertwined it with yours rubbing his thumb across your soft skin. You had no interest in reciprocating Javi’s gentle touch, you were grasping on to his hand so hard, he was convinced you were trying to break a bone. You spent the entire flight with your eyes closed and holding on to Javi, finally feeling like you could breathe again once you had landed, and Javi finally feeling the circulation of his blood flow coming back to his hand.

After picking up your bags, you were able to quickly hail down a taxi, insisting to your parents that if they were going to let you stay for the weekend, you weren’t going to make them drive all the way out to the airport to pick you up. They had reluctantly agreed, and you couldn’t have been more thankful, needing the extra 45 minutes in the cab to try and calm your nerves before facing your family for the first time in 9 months. Although Javi had tried to give you your space on the plane, he could sense the stress in the cab ride to your family home was of a much more intense and gut wrenching caliber than on your flight. “You doing okay, hermosa?” he asked softly, leaning over to press a kiss into your shoulder as you stared out the window at the skyline.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay.” You replied, Javi less than convinced by your response. Trying to think of anything to help ease your mind, he looked out at the city from his own window before turning back to you.

“What’s your favorite place to go downtown?” He asked, squeezing your hand, giving you a look that said I know you don’t believe it, but I promise it’s going to be okay.

You smiled back at him, nodding at his question as if to thank him for bringing up something to distract you on your drive. “Chicago Stadium where the Blackhawks used to play. They tore it down a few years ago to build a new arena, but I have lots of memories of going to watch games there with my brothers and dad as a kid. I always really liked going to the Shedd Aquarium, too. Well, after I found out that you weren’t allowed to feed your younger sister to the sharks when your parents weren’t looking, despite what my brothers told me.” The both of you laughed, the drive passing quickly as you shared more stories of the happy memories of your life long before Laredo.

A strange feeling washed over you as you pulled down the familiar street of your childhood home. The quiet suburban road was lined with tall trees, their leaves painted deep red and orange, gently falling in the crisp October wind. The homes were rich with charm and character, neatly placed along the sidewalk, mentally counting down how many left there were to pass until you finally arrived at yours. It was an eerie feeling pulling up to the last house on Coachman Drive, wondering to yourself how on the outside, it looked like a day hadn’t passed since you’d lived there, yet on the inside, everything had been turned upside down.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Is it always this fuckin’ cold here?” Javi shivered as he pulled your suitcases out of the trunk of the cab, the two of you beginning your journey up the pathway to your front door.

“I forget you’ve been spoiled with warm weather your entire life.” You laughed, watching Javi already struggle with the stark change in temperature. “It’s only 55 degrees, it’s not even that bad! Remind me that if we come back in the winter, I’m gonna need to get you an Alaskan grade snowsuit, cause you are not gonna be happy with how cold it really gets.” You paused as the two of you reached the front door, taking one last deep breath in as you placed your hand on the cold metal of the handle, almost as if you were bracing yourself for the last moment of separation you had between you and your past.

“Hey.” Javi placed his hand over yours. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you.” He looked down at you, giving a reassuring nod as you mustered up the best smile you could, twisting the handle of the door as you stepped in through the doorway.

“Hey, it’s me! Anyone home?” You shouted into the entryway, looking up the stairs and into the living room for any signs of your family. “Hello?” You looked at Javi and shrugged as you kicked your shoes off by the door, walking deeper into the home. Just as you were about to turn the corner into the dining room, you felt two hands wrap around your shoulders from behind, quickly shifting to put you in a headlock.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

‘David, you asshole, let me go!” You squirmed in your brother’s grasp, sharply jabbing him in the stomach making him grunt and release you.

“C’mon, Cubby, that’s no way to say hello to your favorite brother that you missed oh so much.” He teased, playfully punching at you.

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my favorite, or that I missed you.” You rolled your eyes at David before smiling and pulling him in for a hug, shaking each other in your tight squeeze.

“AUNTIE BEAR!” A little voice shrieked from down the hallway, tiny feet patterning against the tile floor as a small body came barreling towards you, smiling at the sweet nicknames from your family you had missed so dearly.

“Olivia come here, sweetie!” You crouched down extending your arms to your niece, scooping her up and spinning her. “Oh I missed you so much, cutie patootie! How’s first grade? Are you being a good role model for your classmates?”

“Yes, Auntie Bear, I promise! I was Star of the Week last week in my class!” Olivia’s little voice giggled as you pecked her with kisses before setting her back down. “Tell her Daddy, tell her how I was star of the week!” She beamed as Charlie peeked down the hallway, grinning at you as you ran into him for a hug.

“Hey, Bear Cub. It’s good to see you. Missed havin’ you around.” Charlie smiled at you as he ruffled the hair on your head, taking a much gentler approach to his greeting than your other brother.

“Oh honey is that you? Greg! Turn off the damn game, your daughter is here!” You could hear your mom rushing out of the family room, laughing as she barricaded through your brothers, squeezing you in her grasp. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so happy you’re here. We’ve missed you so much. I was just telling- GREG! I SWEAR. HOCKEY WILL STILL BE ON LATER, YOUR LITERAL CHILD IS STANDING AT THE DOOR.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m coming! I heard you the first time, I’m trying not to throw out my goddamn back getting out of my chair!” You dad sauntered down the hallway, grumbling to himself. “Hey, kiddo.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulder, rubbing a noogie in your arm. “Missed you, bud.”

“I missed all of you guys too.” You smiled out looking at your family, the ache in your chest starting to ease, replaced by a familiar comfort of the chaos being surrounded by the people you loved.

“Who’s that guy?” Olivia pointed at Javi, who was looking very overwhelmed by the whirlwind greeting that had just taken place. You looked back at him, reaching out to grab his hand, giving him an apologetic look that you had completely forgotten to introduce him in the rapid fire reunion that had occurred.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Everyone, this is Javi!” You gestured at him as you began to roll call the family member surrounding you. “Javi, these are my brothers, David and Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” Javi outstretched his arm, shaking both your brother’s hands, the two nodding back.

“Likewise, Jav. Heard a lot about ya.” Charlie smiled, releasing his hand from Javi’s to give him a pat on the shoulder.

“And these are my mom and dad.” You gestured over to the older couple standing in front of you as Javi stepped forward, hand open and ready to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs.-”

“Oh please.” Your mom swatted at Javi before pulling him in for a hug. “Pam and Greg will do just fine. It’s very nice to meet you, Javi. We’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled that you could come, we have been just dying to finally meet you!”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s great to finally meet all of you, too. Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Javi smiled at your parents, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as he stepped back closer to you after saying hello.

“Oh he is so polite! And handsome honey, oh my god!” Your mom more than whispered as she leaned over towards you.

“I heard that, Pam.” Your dad groaned, making the two of you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Olivia sassed, looking at you with her arms crossed over her chest, making you laugh at how witty she already was at just 6 years old.

“Sorry sweetie, how could I forget? Jav, this is my niece, Olivia.” Javi crouched down to Olivia’s level, holding out his hand for a high-five, Olivia quickly using all her might to give him one back.

“Oh man, you’re strong!” He laughed, pretending to shake out his hand in pain from Olivia’s forceful high-five. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Your aunt talks about you all the time.” Javi smiled at you before standing back up.

“It’s ‘cause she’s my favorite aunt, even though she’s my only aunt. It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Javi.”

“Wait, I just realized, where are Natalie and Brianna?” You looked at Charlie, puzzled by where his wife and your other niece were. Charlie chuckled as he scooped Olivia back up into his arms, making his way towards the door to put on his shoes.

“Well considering that Natalie is almost 8 months pregnant and exhausted and we have a 3 year old who needs to sleep, they’re still both at home. They’ll be at the wedding tomorrow, though. And speaking of which, Little Miss, it is already wayyy past your bedtime. I told you we could stay until Auntie Bear got home, and then we’d have to go. Give her one last kiss and you’ll see her tomorrow, okay?” Charlie held Olivia up to your cheek, letting her give you a kiss before a yawn escaped from her pouty face.

“Daddy can’t we stay just a little bit longer, pleaseeee?” Olivia whined, giving her dad her best puppy eyes.

“Yeah, c’mon Charlie, just a little bit longer? Pleaseeee?” You laughed as your face mirrored Olivia’s, not taking Charlie very long to give in to your request.

“Fine. Until the end of the game and then we have to go. No if’s, and’s or but’s, missy.”

“… Butts.” David snickered to himself as you rolled your eyes.

“You are worse than a literal six year old, I swear, David. Thank you, Charlie. Let us just go put our stuff away and then we’ll be back down, okay?” You smiled at your family as you nudged Javi to grab his bag and follow you upstairs.

"I gotta grab something from my room, too. Here, I’ll help you take up your guys' stuff.” David smiled, looking back at your family, giving them a reassuring nod before grabbing one of the bags by your feet as the three of you made your way up the stairs to the second level. As you got to the top of the staircase, you paused, taking a deep breath as Javi and David continued down the hallway. “So Cubby, how’s it been with-” He turned around, now realizing you were no longer following along, staring blankly at the first bedroom down the hall. The joy you had just felt from your greeting now draining from your body, leaving you feeling numb.

Patrick’s room.

“I knew this was gonna fucking happen. Cubby. Listen to me.” David retracted his steps, now standing in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at him, an unusually stern and serious look growing across his face. “You gotta let it go. You don’t have to forget, but you can’t be mad about it anymore, dude. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Okay, that’s not true, it’s the Army’s fault, those fuckers, but there’s nothing more that you could have done. He’d beat the shit out of you if he knew how mad at yourself you still were. Let it go.” You and David weren’t one for ever being sentimental with each other. Hell, before Patrick died, the closest sentiment you had ever given each other was refraining to not wrestle the other to the ground for the entire day. That’s why when David wrapped his arms around you for a hug, a real hug, you could feel something inside you shift, like the tiniest bit of guilt had begun to lift off your shoulders, that there was a truth to his words that you alone weren’t the one to blame. “Okay, okay, that’s long enough, the hug can end now.” David stuck out his tongue before taking his arms and shoving you away, breaking your somber stare, turning it into smiles.

“Thanks, David. You didn’t really need anything from up here, did you?” You half smirked at him, trying not to let him know how much his pep talk had meant to you.

“Of course I didn’t, idiot. I mean it, Cubby. Don’t take too long up here, lovebirds. Remember, we share a thin ass wall and I don’t need to hear you two going at it all night.” He punched your arm before passing by Javi, giving him a Pat on the back before making his way back downstairs.

“Jesus, David!” You groaned, covering your face over your hands as you looked back up at Javi. “I told you this house was a shitshow, and this is down a brother.” You gestured towards Patrick’s door before grabbing the rest of your bags and heading down the hallway to your old bedroom. Javi laughed, following behind you.

“Your family’s funny as hell. I’ve been here 20 minutes and can already understand why the iguana only made it a day.” He nudged you as you opened the door to your bedroom, pausing a moment before his next question.

“Yeah, they’re funny, but this is them on their best behavior. I called my mom and practically had to beg her to make sure no one did anything too embarrassing, and this is still what we get.” You grunted as you swung your suitcase up onto your bed, looking around to find your room in the exact same state it was before you had moved out and left for college. To be quite honest, Javi wasn’t shocked to find that your childhood bedroom probably could have been mistaken for one of your brothers- your dark blue walls covered in Chicago Blackhawks pictures and pennants, a giant Star Wars poster next to your dresser, medals and trophies of little golden hockey players lining your shelves. As he walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, he saw dozens of old photos, mostly of you and your family, but a few of just you as a kid with your wide, toothy grin, drowning in whatever hockey jersey you had gotten that season. Javi laughed to himself, holding up one of a tiny you, beaming as you raised a trophy above your head, missing nearly half your teeth, your face red and sweaty as you sat on top of who looked to be your dad’s shoulders. Sneaking up behind him you wrapped your arms around Javi’s stomach, pressing your chest into his back now giggling at the photo he was holding. “That was the first year my parents let me play with my brothers. I was so determined all season long to score a goal all season. First and only one was the one that won our team the championship that year. It’s all been downhill since then.”

“God, you were fuckin’ cute. Our kids better look like you.” He turned around resting his hands on your hips as you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re very sweet, but let’s hope we can spare them that pain. I will be very disappointed if they don’t have your adorable puppy dog eyes, although, if that’s the case, I’m gonna have to get really good at learning how to say no so I don’t give into their cuteness.” Javi shook his head, caging his chest against yours as he pulled you in tight. “Thank you, Javi.” You whispered against the soft fabric of his shirt, the familiar scent of his sweet and spicy cologne filling your nostrils as you leaned your head on his body.

“For what, Osita?” He asked, taking one of his hands as he palmed the back of your head, running his hands through the ends of your hair.

“I don’t know, I just- I know my family is a lot, and you flew with me all the way from Texas just to meet them, and- shit, on top of that, I’m dealing you the tragically dead brother card, and you’ve just been so great and understanding. So just- thank you, is what I’m trying to say. Thank you for all of this.” You took in a deep breath, squeezing yourself tighter against Javi’s chest.

“Hey.” He dragged his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, his fingers feathering over your skin. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to thank me for anything. I love you. I’d do anything for you, Hermosa. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, even the parts of it that hurt.” Javi dragged his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that had started falling, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Anything? You’d eat a pile of dog shit for me?” You tried to laugh through your tears, making Javi’s eyes roll.

“Anything within reason, you idiot. You’re not any better than David.”

“Hey, you take that back, that’s a low blow, even for you Javier Peña.” The two of you were both laughing, taking one last deep breath to press up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi before opening up your suitcase to dig out some of the pajamas bottoms you had packed. Stripping out of your jeans, you shuffled through your closet, pulling out a well worn Blackhawks crewneck and slipping it on before sitting down on the bed to watch Javi rummage through his own suitcase.

“You sure it’s okay if I change? I wanna make a good impression on your parents.” He huffed, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt he had packed.

“Did you meet my family? Javi, to be completely honest with you, I am shocked my dad even had the decency to put pants on before he came out to say hi to us. You’re more than welcome to keep on what you have on, but you don’t have to worry about making a good impression. I promise, they really like you. My parents never told Paul to call them Pam and Greg in the whole 3 years we dated. Plus, I also very selfishly want to see you in those gray sweatpants.” You smirked as Javi undid his belt, pushing his jeans to the floor before grabbing his sweatpants and shuffling them on, his shirt quickly following suit.

“I don’t understand what it is with you and these fucking sweatpants.” He laughed, pulling you up to stand from the edge of the bed as you outstretched your arms toward him.

“You already know exactly why, Javi. And if we weren’t trying to share this tiny bed and my parents and David weren’t on either side of these paper thin walls, you best believe I would be showing you just how much I appreciate them. Thank God Kelly’s wedding is far enough away and everyone likes to drink enough to get hotel rooms for tomorrow.” You reached down, palming Javi’s dick in his sweatpants, making him bite down on his lip before taking his hand and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t…” He warned, trying his best to be stern, even though you could clearly tell he wasn’t that upset by your gesture.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this coming from the man who fucked me in his bathroom on his birthday, surrounded by all of his closest friends and family? Two can play at that game, baby.” You winked, giving his crotch one more squeeze before running out of the bedroom as Javi adjusted himself, following behind you down the hallway.

…….

“Your fucking team is kicking our ass.” You dad grumbled as you and Javi entered the family room, where your parents, brothers and niece were gathered on the couch, surrounding the TV.

“GREG! Your granddaughter is right there!” Your mom slapped your dad across the couch as he held up his arms in defense.

“They are, Pam!” Your dad retorted, angrily pointing at the screen, playing the Blackhawks vs. Dallas Stars game, the Blackhawks down by 2 with only 5 minutes left.

“It’s okay.” Olivia chimed in, peeking up from the drawing she was working on. “Daddy said that swearing during hockey doesn’t count, but Daddy says I can’t tell Mommy that.”

“Nice parenting, Charlie.” Your mom turned to the opposite side of the couch, now slapping your brother.

“Okay, listen, I will root for Dallas if they’re playing anyone else but the Hawks. They are not my team, they just happen to be the only hockey team in a thousand mile radius since Texas is a hockey wasteland. Blame him, not me.” You pointed at Javi, giving him a playful shove as you both sat down next to Olivia on the floor.

“I don’t know, I really thought my team was the Red Wings, you guys really like them too, right?” Javi chuckled, trying to inflict as much sarcasm as possible to make sure his joke stuck. Considering your family spoke sarcasm fluently, Javi was relieved to find your family laughing to themselves, your dad reaching down from the couch to put a hand on Javi’s shoulder, shaking it in delight.

“Good man, Javi. She’s taught ya well. I was worried that- Oh motherfucker, you call that a penalty?!” Greg screamed at the TV, you, David and Charlie all following suit.

“GREG! LANGUAGE!”

“SORRY!”

It was now your mom’s turn to reach down and touch Javi’s shoulder as she mumbled in his ear. “I am so sorry about them. She’s no better than the boys, I’m afraid. I swear, sometimes she was the hardest to raise because she was always trying to prove a point to her brothers. She is a tough cookie though, I’ll give her that. Sorry if you’ve got your hands full with her.” Your mom laughed, patting Javi’s back.

“I can definitely see where she gets it from. She’s stubborn as hell, I’ll give her that, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as smart and determined as her.” He looked over at you, beaming with pride as you shouted with your brothers at the TV before turning back to Pam. “I love that about her.”

You turned your head back around to see Javi smiling at you, and your mom smiling at Javi, giving them a confused look as you raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you two talking about me?”

“Maybe.” Javi smirked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leaned you over to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss into your forehead. Suddenly, you felt a little hand tapping on your leg, looking over to see Olivia holding several books in your direction.

“Auntie Bear, will you read me a book before I have to go? You’re better at the voices than Daddy, even though he says he is.” Olivia pleaded, placing the books in your lap.

“Of course, cutie pie. Here, pick which one you want and let’s go over to the living room so we don’t have to listen to Grandpa and Uncle David and Daddy yell at the game.” The both of you giggled as you stood up, Olivia picking up a book before quickly using her free hand to grab yours as you walked across the family room. After taking a few steps, Olivia paused, whispering something into your ear before pointing back at Javi. You grinned, nodding your head, before gesturing over to him, as Olivia quickly made her way back, poking Javi on the shoulder.

“Mr. Javi, do you wanna read with us?” She asked with her toothy grin, holding the book she had chosen up in front of her. Javi was taken aback, eyes going wide, gulping as he looked back at you. He didn’t know why such a simple question had made him so nervous. Maybe it was because he knew how much you loved Olivia, or the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was make a bad impression, your family thinking he was trying to insert himself to prove that he fit in.

“Uh, I don’t know, Olivia, are you-”

“She’s the one who asked.” You smirked at him. “In her defense, she did pick out a really good book.”

“You sure?” He smiled at Olivia, now squealing with excitement as she jumped up and down, clutching her book, nodding her head frantically. “Okay, you’re gonna have to help me though, your Aunt told me that you’re a really good reader.” Javi grunted as he pushed himself off the floor, following the two of you to the living room.

“I’ve been practicing lots. Okay, Auntie Bear, you sit here, and Mr. Javi, you sit here, and I sit in the middle and hold the book.” Olivia nodded defiantly, plopping herself in the middle of the couch.

“What are we reading today, missy?” You asked, pointing down to the book Olivia was holding.

“Tacky the Penguin! Mrs. Meadows my teacher read it but it’s only good if you do the voices extra funny, okay?” Olivia glared at the both of you as she opened to the first page.

“Extra funny voices, got it. You got that, Mr. Javi?” You winked, giving him a pinch on his cheek as he shook his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Got it.”

Finally noticing what was happening, Charlie elbowed both your parents, gesturing towards you and Javi sitting on one of the loveseats in the living room, Olivia happily squished between the two of you, holding out her book. The 3 of you were in hysterics, dying at the ridiculous voice Javi had attempted for one of the characters Oliva had assigned him, which she clearly had deemed to be funny enough for her liking.

“He’s a good one, huh?” Charlie smirked, your family close to tears watching the glow that had suddenly gone black 9 months ago, slowly begin to shine again with Javi by your side. Your parents looked at each other, quietly nodding to themselves.

“Yeah. He’s a good one.”

It hadn’t taken long last night for Olivia’s one read aloud request to turn into 4 more, your yawns and blinks of your heavy lids against your tired eyes growing more frequent with each page. Halfway through your last book, you and Olivia were curled up against each other, fast asleep. Letting the two of you rest, Javi had spent the rest of his night with your parents and brothers, shocked by how quick they were to treat him like he had been a part of your family for years. Javi shared about your life in Texas- how proud he was of you for all you had been through, how he couldn’t have been more thankful you had quite literally bumped into him at a time in his life he couldn’t have needed more, and just how goddamn happy you made him. In exchange, your family shared stories of your past with Javi, about the stubborn and sweet child you were and the ridiculous things you did with your brothers that didn’t surprise Javi in the slightest. Hours flew by like minutes, and already way later than he had expected to be out, Charlie had just agreed to spend the night, helping to haul his sleepy daughter up to his old bedroom, while Javi helped to haul an even sleepier you up to yours, David, on the other hand, was laughing at both of you in the background, glad that he wasn’t responsible for anyone. Your parents had very adamantly insisted that there would be plenty of coffee downstairs in the morning and for Javi to not be shy and take as much as he wanted when he woke up.

When Javi awoke to the sunrise spilling through your curtains and rustling leaves rustling in the harsh October wind, he was glad that your parents had been so persistent in making sure he got coffee. The tiny bed the two of you shared, plus the time squished in the middle seat on yesterday’s flight hadn’t done any favors for his back, finding himself already wide awake as you still laid face down, snoring into your pillow. Giving you a kiss on the shoulder and throwing on a shirt, Javi made his way downstairs to find your dad and brothers standing half awake, sipping on their own cups of coffee with the sounds of Sports Center in the background.

“Morning.” David mumbled, taking a drawn out sip of his coffee. “Mugs are up there.” He pointed up at one of the cabinets above the coffee pot for Javi as he reached up to pour himself a generous cup. “Had a feeling you would make good on the coffee offer, you striked me as an early riser.”

“Well being hunched in on a plane and trying to share a bed with a human starfish wasn’t really helping in the sleep department.” Javi mumbled, the men’s sleepy laughter filling the quiet kitchen. “Hey, listen.” Javi paused, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. “I uh- I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me stay and making me feel so welcome. I was really happy when she said that she wanted to come this weekend. I know she really misses you guys. I can see why.” The 3 nodded at Javi, soft and sympathetic smiles creeping up the corners of their cheeks. Greg set down his mug, taking a deep breath before looking up at Javi.

“Javi, I think we should be the ones thanking you. We were so worried about our Bear Cub after what happened to Patrick. She just… She wasn’t the same. I know she’s tough. To be honest, she’s probably tougher than these two assholes.” He gestured towards Charlie and David, shrugging, not seeming offended in the slightest. “All winter after she moved, even when we talked with her on the phone, you could just hear it in her voice how much she hurt. Killed us to think of how much she was beatin’ herself up over something she couldn’t have controlled. And then, right around the end of the school year, she started to sound more like herself. We couldn’t believe it. Turns out, it was right around the time she met you. Seeing her yesterday… seeing that she was the same, happy kid she used to be before all of this? Because of you? We owe ya, Javi.” Grabbing his shoulder, your dad stared at him for a moment before embracing him in a bear hug, patting him on the back.

“And now, my dad has officially only given you one less hug than he’s ever given either of us. It’s high praise.” David chuckled as Greg rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Maybe if you two weren’t such idiots, the number would be higher.”

“Fair.” Charlie and David agreed in unison, grimacing as they sipped their coffee.

“He’s being serious though, Javi. It’s been so long since we’ve seen her this happy. Thanks for takin’ care of her.” Charlie raised his mug at Javi after finishing his swig, the steam still dancing off the bitter liquid.

Javi stood for a moment, staring down into his cup, his heart beginning to race. This wasn’t how he had planned to ask the question that was now stirring at the forefront of his brain. He had wanted to do it later, to find a time before the wedding where he could talk to your dad and brothers in a much more awake and less pajamaed state than the 4 of them found themselves in now. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He could feel the pounding in his chest with each second that passed, palms sweating around the ceramic of his coffee mug, trying to muster up the courage and find the words he wanted to say. He took a deep inhale, his breath shaking with the long exhale that followed.

“You good, Jav?” David asked, looking back and forth between his brother and dad, confused as to why his demeanor had shifted so suddenly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I just- shit. This- This wasn’t how I was planning on doing this…” Javi took one more long breath to compose himself, trying his best to work through the intensity of the nerves flowing through his body. “I know you said that you think I’ve made her happy. Truth is, I had really kind of given up on ever finding someone who was ever gonna make me remotely happy until I met your daughter and your guy’s sister. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never met anyone like her. I still can’t figure out what she sees in me, or what the hell I ever did to deserve someone like her. I know… I know it’s fast, but I’ve never been so sure about something in my life. I’ve known since the day I met her. I know all of you mean so much to her, and I wanted to ask all of you. I love her more than anything. More than I even knew was possible. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her, to be everything she needs, if she’ll let me, cause I think we all know how goddamn stubborn she is, and she would be just fine without me. I guess…. What I’m trying to say is… I love her, would you give me your permission to ask to marry your-”

“OH MY GOD, IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS?!” Your mom shrieked as she snuck up behind the boys in the kitchen, making them all jump out of their skin as they held their hands against their chests, catching their breath from the shock she had just given them.

“JESUS, PAM.” Greg choked out, sputtering between his labored wheezes. “I’m not gonna make it to their goddamn wedding if you give me a heart attack before I even get a chance to tell the kid yes!”

Javi’s head shot up, his jaw hanging half open, trying to make sure he had really just heard what your dad had said. “Wait… did you just-”

“Of course he’s saying yes, Javi! Well even if he’s not, I’m saying yes! Oh come here!” Your mom outstretched her arms draped in her fuzzy bathrobe as she grabbed Javi in for a hug. “You’re saying yes, right Greg?” She shot a deadly look at her husband, now holding up his hands in defense.

“Yes, yes! Of course I’m saying yes, I’m not a fucking idiot! You two morons agree, right?” Your dad pointed at your brothers, now laughing to themselves as they watched Javi caught in the middle of their parents bickering.

“Welcome to the shit show, brother.” David and Charlie stood around both sides of Javi, squishing him sandwich style as David noogied his head, abruptly coming to a halt as everyone heard your sleepy voice traveling down the stairs, into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about so early?” You grumbled, outstretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn. The rest of your family froze, suspiciously looking back and forth amongst each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Uh… Javi said he would let us teach him how to skate next time you guys came around, isn’t that right, Jav?” David rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, trying to elbow Javi in his side to get him to respond.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! That’s what we were talking about. Yeah, next time we come here, I’ll try skating.” Javi replied resistantly, realizing he had never been more thankful for your barely awake state, leaving him and your family in the clear.

“Actually? That’ll be a sight to see.” You yawned again, rubbing your face over your hands, everyone else letting out a silent sigh of relief. “Is there any coffee left?”

The rest of the morning was spent preparing to leave for your cousin’s wedding, your mom insistent on the fact all of you needed plenty of time to prep before her big day. Your family quickly scarfed down breakfast before you and Javi found yourselves back in your old room, repacking your barely opened suitcase as Javi tried his best to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Ever since you had made your way downstairs this morning, your family had been acting weirder than normal, Javi included. You were trying your best to not read too much into it, but as you sat on the top of your suitcase, fighting with your zipper to get it to close and you caught Javi lovingly staring at you in the midst of your luggage battle, you knew something had to be up.

“You okay?” You grunted, finally getting your suitcase all the way closed.

“Hmmmmm?” Javi shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever day dream he was stuck in.

“You’re being… Weird. All of you guys. What are you all up to?” You interrogated, pointing a finger at Javi, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermosa. Just excited for this wedding.” He smirked, helping you to stand as you outstretched your arms towards him, snaking his hands around your waist as you met, chest to chest.

“Really? You’re that excited for a stuffy, uptight wedding for one of my cousins you’ve never met? Nice try, Peña. I know there’s something going on, I’ll figure it out eventually.” You raised an eyebrow at him as you poked his chest, making the both of you giggle.

“Alright detective. What if I am that excited, huh? It’s been years since I’ve been to a wedding, and it’s the first one I’ve ever gone to with you. Plus, I’ve never seen you all dressed up before. You always look fucking gorgeous, but fuck, I’m really looking forward to whatever you’re wearing tonight.” He hid his head in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your skin, his hot breath dancing around your ear. “Looking even more forward to taking it off later.”

“You’re a fucking menace, Jesus Christ, Javi.” You fought with everything in you to push him away, finding yourself dangerously close to pouncing on him right here in your childhood bedroom. “Believe me, I am too. I can’t even look at you or you’re gonna make me lose my goddamn mind. Get your sexy ass downstairs so we can get to this hotel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He winked, giving your ass one more good squeeze before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs.

“Ridiculous…” You mumbled to yourself, lugging your suitcase behind him.

While you would have loved Javi’s first trip to Chicago to be one filled with sightseeing and visiting your favorite hidden gems downtown, Kelly’s packed and extravagant wedding itinerary left you with very little time to do anything besides check into your hotel room and get ready before her ceremony. You had always gotten along with Kelly- she was your age, your families were close, and it was easy to bond over playing pranks and torturing your brothers together. For as well as the two of you got along, you and Kelly definitely had different tastes when it came to pretty much everything. When you had gotten her invitation, it wasn’t much of a shock to find out that she was having her reception at the Drake, one of the most upscale and gaudy hotels in all of downtown Chicago, preceded by a ceremony at St. Peter’s. Kelly was one for, well, extravagance, to say the least.

Given your family’s inability to be on time for anything, you had found yourselves leaving your house much later than expected, and you and Javi rushed to check in so you had enough time to get ready for a 2 o’clock ceremony. As much as you and Javi both wanted to, you both had enough sensibility to know there wasn’t even close to enough time even for a quickie, having to share a speed shower with no funny business before Javi left you in the bathroom to finish getting your hair and makeup done. He would have given anything to even just stay and watch you get ready, as it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but your brothers and dad had roped him into getting drinks with them at the hotel bar while the girls finished up in their rooms.

The invitation for Kelly’s wedding had very specifically said that this was a black tie only event, which again, didn’t come as much of a surprise to you, but that did mean you had made one too many trips to the mall in the past month to try and find something acceptable enough for her formal request. You had settled on a black satin midi dress that seemed to tightly hug your curves in all the right places, with a slit that creeped just a touch past appropriate up your thigh. Finally finished with your hair and makeup, you slipped yourself into the dress, fighting to get your zipper all the way up your back without Javi’s help. As much as you hated them, your mom had insisted on the fact that you had be an adult about it and wear heels, picking a strappy black pair to match your dress, you had gone with shoes with the most reasonable height you could get away with. You touched up your hair and makeup before stepping back to give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading downstairs.

Shit, you clean up pretty damn good.

You were surprised to find yourself the last of your family members to meet in the hotel lobby, everyone else already crowding around the bar, chatting away as they waited for you before cramming into the car to drive over to the ceremony. Of course David was the first one to notice you as you walked up to join the group, not letting any opportunity to give you shit pass him by.

“Well damn, how many people on the crisis team did you have up there to make you look like a half presentable human being?” David snickered as you slapped his chest with your purse.

“That’s funny, I didn’t know this was a circus sponsored event, I’m surprised that Kelly would want to invite a clown to her wedding, asshole.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at David as the rest of your family turned around to greet you.

Javi immediately perked up as he heard your voice, breaking from the conversation he was having with Charlie, whipping his head in your direction. As soon as his eyes met you, his jaw just about dropped to the floor, raising a hand to his face, covering his mouth hanging open agape. You were no better, looking through the crowd at Javi to find him not just dressed in a suit, but a tuxedo, complete with a black bowtie and tight suit jacket that just about brought you to your damn knees. The two of you stood frozen as your family began to move around you, collectively making your way to the doors of the lobby to leave, your mom grabbing your arm to tell you something about how you looked nice and that we needed to go, but with the way you found yourself gawking at Javi, you couldn’t have really told you a single word that she had said. The two of you found yourself at the back of the crowd as Javi walked towards you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he licked his lower lip, you biting down on yours, wondering how the hell he had gotten even more handsome as he approached you.

“Fuck me, Osita…” He rasped, his eyes glancing up and down the length of your body before leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Jesus Christ, you look fucking… Fuck, you look fucking stunning.” He reached down to interlock his hand with yours as the two of you began following behind your family.

“Me?! Javi what the fuck, since when were you gonna tell me that you owned a goddamn tux? Oh. My. God.” You shook your head, barely able to peel your eyes off Javi and how good he looked.

“When I started working as an attaché for the DEA, they made me get one in case I had any bullshit, ass-kissing dinner parties I had to go to. Only had to wear it twice, but figured now would be another good time to break it out.” He smirked, giving him a nudge as you watched him peek over his shoulder to get a better look at the way your dress hugged against your ass, taking a deep breath as the two of you made your way outside to join your family at the car. “Goddamn, Hermosa, I’m really gonna have to be on my best behavior tonight, aren’t I?”

“Not if anyone catches you.” You winked as you ducked your head into the car, squishing yourself between your brothers to find a seat.

Pulling up to the church just in time, your family tucked into one of the back pews, politely chatting with friends and family members until the processional music had begun, and the wedding party had begun making its way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but bite down on your lip and grin as you watched Kelly make her way through the church in her white, flowy gown, imagining what it would be like for it to be you in her place, walking to meet Javi, waiting there for you to finally be his wife. As you watched, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as his fingertips dug gently into your hips, as if to say “Soon, I promise”.

The joy of the moment quickly came to a halt as Kelly met her future husband Mark at the altar and you were hit by the reality of the fact that you were about to have to sit through a full Catholic Mass. Your family had never been religious, your parents often claiming if God was real, he wouldn’t have cursed them with the hell on earth that was raising you and your brothers. Truth be told, Kelly wasn’t really either, but your Uncle Matt, Kelly’s Dad, always loved to try and prove he was just a little bit better than the rest of his family, so even if your cousins were only “Christmas Mass Catholics”, of course he was going to find the biggest, most beautiful church downtown for his daughter to get married in. 15 minutes into the ceremony, you were already beyond lost, wondering why you had already stood up and sat down 4 different types, looking over at Javi, making him laugh as you grimaced your face at the priest who was chanting some sing-songy prayer you couldn’t understand. All of a sudden, you were following Javi and the rest of the church as they got down to kneel, giving him a confused look as to how he seemed to know it was coming next.

“I didn’t think you were religious?” You whispered into his ear, trying to keep your eyes facing forward at the altar.

“I’m not.” He chuckled quietly to himself before quietly replying.

“Then why does it look like you know what the hell you're doing?” You mumbled, both pulling out a book from the shelf on the back of the pews, mimicking the crowd around you.

“Because my parents were, and I still got dragged to church with them every Sunday until I left for college. Never really believed this shit then, definitely didn’t after I left for Colombia.” Javi shrugged, helping you back up to stand. “You’re not, are you? I’m gonna assume no, considering how lost you’ve looked the past 20 minutes.” He glanced down at you, smirking.

“Yeah, that would be a big, fat no.” The two of you snickered quietly, looking over to see a frail older lady with wiry silver hair now shushing you and Javi with a menacing glare on her face. Both of you grimaced, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as you turned away. “So you wouldn’t wanna get married in a Church?” You sighed, realizing you were back to kneeling again.

“No, not at all.” Javi grunted as he got down to join you, resting his forearms against the back of the pew as he leaned over to you, his hot breath hitting your neck. “Although… I do always like seeing you on your knees.”

“Javi!” You reached over, swatting him in the stomach, perhaps a little too loudly, as the same elderly woman who had shushed you a few moments ago was now giving you both the death glare. This time you couldn’t help but keep your laughter uncontained, resting your heads against each other as you giggled over the terrible chanting voices in the background.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that the rest of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, happily finding yourself on your second drink as cocktail hour back at the reception was underway. Your little bit of liquid courage was enough to get you through the never ending parade of “Hellos”, “Is this your boyfriend?” And sympathetic “How are you doing since Patrick passed?” From your friends and family, Javi’s hand squeezed tightly in yours, never leaving your side, unless you asked him to go get you another drink to help you through the relentless interrogations.

With the reception close to staring, you and Javi went to go find your table, relieved to have a moment of peace as you found no one else had come to sit down yet, finally giving you two a moment alone. “You doing okay, Osita?” Javi asked, rubbing his hand along your back as you finished off the rest of your gin and tonic, opting for something stronger than beer to get you through the night. “Yeah, only because it seems like the bartender is making these extra strong.” You laughed, swirling around the melted ice in your glass. “I’m okay because I have you with me.” You giggled, Javi laughing along with you, already able to tell that you were a little tipsy as you stood up out of your chair. “And on that cute note, I’m gonna go run to the bathroom really quick before all this starts. I love you, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss into his cheek as you wandered through the crowd, Javi happily taking an extra long look at the way your ass swayed in your dress as you moved.

“Hi Mr. Javi!” A little voice squeaked, tugging on the sleeve of Javi’s suit jacket.

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled, looking over to see both of your nieces and your brother standing next to him.

“You know where Bear Cub went?” Charlie asked, looking around the crowd, distress spreading across his face as he held Brianna, your 3 year old niece, crying in his arms.

“Bathroom, why?” Javi asked, sensing the desperation in your brother’s tone as he rocked his sobbing daughter, Olivia already comfortably climbing up into the seat next to Javi after pulling the coloring book and crayons out of the bag Charlie had strapped over his shoulder.

“Shit… Look, I’m sorry to do this man, do you mind watching Olivia until she comes back?”

“Brianna had an accident.” Olivia chimed in nonchalantly, picking up a pink crayon to color in one of the balloons she was working on in her coloring book. “She’s got pee all in her underwear.”

Javi tried his best not to laugh, nodding to Charlie as your brother rushed off with Brianna. “What are you working on?” Javi looked over at Olivia, gesturing to the page she was very intensely focused on coloring.

“It’s a picture of a puppy with balloons, but I’m making them pink and blue because I like pink and Auntie Bear likes blue. Here, you color this one.” She assertively shoved the coloring book in between her and Javi, Javi picking up a gray crayon from the box to start coloring the elephant Olivia had demanded he worked on. “Do you love Auntie Bear?” Olivia prodded, not even bothering to look up from the puppy she was tracing with her brown crayon. Javi froze for a moment, taken aback by the 6 year old’s bluntness and curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I love your Aunt a lot.” Javi smiled at Olivia as the two of them exchanged crayons.

“So why haven’t you married her like Kelly and Mr. Mark yet? Isn’t that what grownups do when they love each other?” Javi took a sip of his drink, not realizing he was going to have to justify his life choices to your niece over a coloring book.

“Well yeah, it’s what a lot of grownups do, I guess. I want to marry her, I just haven’t asked her yet.” Javi took a deep breath, wondering how a first grader was prying this information out of him.

“Well why haven’t you done it yet?” Olivia sassed, crossing her little arms over her chest as she looked at Javi.

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Javi answered, shaking his head as he continued coloring the picture in front of him.

“It seems like it is. If you ask her I know Auntie Bear will say yes. She loves you a lot more than Mr. Paul. She never smiled around him and she always smiles when she’s with you.” Javi sighed, setting down his crayon to look at Olivia.

“Well she makes me smile a lot, too. Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask her soon.”

“Really?!” Olivia squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “And then you’ll be Uncle Javi instead of Mr. Javi?!”

Javi grinned, a soft smile creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?”

“What are you two cuties talking about, huh?” Javi unaware of your presence behind him, making him shoot up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Well Mr. Javi and I were coloring and he said that pretty soon he’s gonna be Uncle Javi and that he’s gonna-”

“Hey, you guys! Who colored that ugly ass elephant?” David joked as the rest of your family joined you, Javi and Olivia at your table, Javi absolutely relieved by your brother’s insult of his poor art skills to stop Olivia from going any further. You couldn’t help but feel heat flush over your face, knowing exactly what those two had been talking about, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a little nudge. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Javi’s pink cheeks and flustered face told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña was going to propose to you. The only question that left you with was when, and where.

If there was one thing you knew about your family, it was they were always ready for a good time, and that was without an open bar. It wasn’t long before everyone at your table (besides your pregnant sister in law and nieces, although Olivia perhaps had one too many juices) were several drinks in, wanting to make the most of Kelly’s wedding. From the moment the dance floor opened, everyone was out, singing and dancing, including Javi, who you had dragged on to the dance floor with you, even though it didn’t take much convincing to do so after the shots of Fireball your brothers had wrangled him into taking. There really weren’t words to describe the feeling you had watching Javi with your family. Although his presence could ever replace Patrick’s, there was something about the way Javi had come into your life and healed a piece of you that had been missing, aching to be filled by the love of someone who you cared for so deeply. Not only had he filled that void for you, but watching him laugh and dance with your family made you feel like he seemed to ease some of their pain too. You watched your family bond with Javi quicker in the past two days than they did with Paul in 3 years. It was like they knew just how special he was, just how much he had come into your life and changed it for the better. There was never a doubt in your mind, but if this trip had done anything, it had solidified for you that Javier Peña was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

The night had flown by, dancing and screaming to the music on the dance floor, now completely losing count of how many drinks deep you were. At some point, Javi had taken off both his suit jacket and bow tie, his dress shirt now undone 4 buttons deep, while your heels your mom had insisted you wore were long gone at your table hours ago. As the music on the dance floor began to shift, slowing its pace to “At Last” by Etta James, Javi outstretched his arm toward you, pulling you in towards his chest, wrapping his large palms around your waist, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You leaned your head against him, your face resting between the fabric of his dress shirt and his exposed skin as the both of you swayed back and forth along to the syrupy melody of the song. Javi peeked over his shoulder, looking at Kelly and her now husband, hand in hand on the dance floor, grinning to himself as he spoke down to you.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.” He beamed, nudging you in Mark and Kelly’s direction, your drunken cheeks growing even more pink than they already were from your countless gin and tonics. “I’m not even kidding, Osita. I’d marry you tomorrow, but I got a plan because you deserve everything and I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” You bit down on your tongue, raising an eyebrow at Javi’s drunken smirk as you draped your arms around his neck.

“A plan, huh? And what plan would that be, Jav?” You giggled as he pecked a few kisses at your cheek.

“I’m drunk, but I can keep a secret. I know you hate surprises, but it’s gonna be a surprise okay?”

“I mean, if it has to be, I guess that’s fine, I just wanna- JAVIIII!” You shrieked as he tightened his grip around your waist, lifting you off the floor and twirling you in a circle as the song came to a close. “You are crazy!” You laughed, playfully punching him as he set you down

“Crazy for you.” He winked, shaking you in his grasp.

“Okay, that was so cheesy. Like extra cheese on mac and cheese, cheesy. Even for how drunk we both are. You’re lucky you’re a hot piece of ass, Javier Peña.” You giggled, grabbing a quick squeeze of his butt, your laughter slowly turning into a drunkenly horny desire as you saw Javi’s eyes light up and jaw go slack as he just about damn near undressed you with his eyes in the middle of the dance floor.

“Me? Osita, I don’t think you understand. You are the most beautiful, sexy woman I have ever fuckin’ seen. I’m not even kidding. I swear to God. I had random ass guys at bar asking if I had seen the hot girl in the tight black dress, immediately pointing to you, and you know what I fuckin’ told them? I said that’s my fucking wife, so you can fuck right off, she’s all mine.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you except for the fact that I am not your wife, Jav.” You crossed your arms, popping out your hip as you sassed him. He shook his head before stepping into you, holding both of his hands around your face as you looked up at him, his slight frown quickly turning into a mischievous grin.

“Yeah… but you’re fuckin’ gonna be.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe it was the one too many drinks you had in your system, maybe it was something in the air at the wedding, maybe it was the fact that even in both your drunken states, when you looked at each other, you knew that there was no one else in the world you wanted by your side for the rest of your life besides each other, but the kiss you found yourself tangled in was like one you’d never felt before. Something about the deep and intense passion mixed with the slow and gentle press of Javi’s whisky stained lips against yours had your heart pounding in your chest, the world seeming to stop around you. You would have kissed him like this forever- you didn’t even care if anyone stared as the two of you found yourselves intertwined in the middle of the dance floor. The only thing that was stopping you was the unison of your rasped whispers as your lips parted.

“You wanna go back up to the room?”

The both of you burst out laughing at the way your words synced, taking a few moments to compose yourselves from your hysterics as Javi looked out into the crowd at your parents and brothers.

“You sure your family won’t care?” Javi gestured over to the group, surrounding David as he ripped his tie off his neck, flinging in circles over his head.

“Javi, I would be shocked if they even knew what planet they’re on right now. C’mon, let’s go.” The grin on your face began to grow as you picked up your heels from your chair, tossing Javi his jacket and bow tie before grabbing him by the hand and pulling him out the door.

The two of you found yourselves practically sprinting down the hallway of the hotel, Javi chasing behind you as you reached the elevator. If it wasn’t for the older couple that had been standing in front of you the way up to your floor, you and Javi gave each other a playful look as if to say, you’d know I’d fuck you right here in this elevator. As you reached your floor, you followed behind Javi as he stepped out of the elevator, immediately jumping on his back, clinging to him like a Koala, trying to wrap around the width of his broadness.

“What the hell are you doing, Osita?” He laughed as he hiked you further up on to his back, beginning to carry you down the hallway towards your room.

“My feet hurt! And honestly I just kind of wanted to, it looked fun. I bet I could carry you if I really, reallyyyyy tried.” You were nothing but smiles and giggles as you ruffled Javi’s dark curls, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, maybe let’s not try that one tonight, okay, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled as he reached into his pocket for the room key, angrily fumbling with it as couldn’t get the door to unlock. “Why won’t it fucking work? Doesn’t this door know I need to get inside it so I can fuck my hot future wife?”

“I don’t think the door is really concerned about your wants and needs, Javi. Oh, that’s why you idiot, it’s upside down! Flip it around!” You swatted at Javi’s arm, noticing how he was trying to insert the card. With a reluctant groan, he flipped it around, bracing himself for the “I told you so’s” as the door immediately opened upon your suggestion.

“Okay, listen… I won’t say it… But just know… I’m thinking it.”

“Alright, get off you dork.” Javi shook his head as you slid down his back, crossing the threshold into your hotel room.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat your future wife!” You snickered, giving Javi a harder than expected smack on the ass as he stood in front of you. He immediately spun on his heels, hooking his arms under your thighs, picking you up and pulling you against him as your legs locked around his waist.

“Baby, I’m about to show you exactly how I’m gonna treat my future wife.” He rasped, nipping at your neck as he began to carry you to the bed, taking a few more stumbling steps than normal as he tossed you down onto the fresh, white sheets, making you squeal.

“Well… in that case… Do your worst, Mr. Peña.” You raised an eyebrow at him, your teeth biting down on your tongue as a grin grew across your face. Javi wasted no time, pulling you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as he draped your legs over his shoulders, hiking your dress up your thighs, sliding his hands against the soft skin on your legs as he pushed up the silky fabric. Hooking his fingers around the lacy waistband, Javi’s face liting up up instantly as he pulled down your panties, realizing what you had been wearing the whole night.

“These are new, aren’t they?” A devilish grin spread across Javi’s lips as he held up the white, lacy thong, already damp from his previous promise.

“Maybe… A little extra surprise, just for you. Only for you.” You propped yourself up on your forearms, shrugging at Javi and giving him a wink as he shoved the skimpy fabric into his back pocket.

“Fuck, baby girl. Only for me. This all for me, too?” He nudged open your knees, revealing the wet slick pooling between your thighs, gently brushing the pads of his fingertips along your entrance, collecting your arousal as he slid through your folds before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasped, arching your back along the bed as his fingers dipped into your dripping heat, pulsing in and out of you ever so slowly, luring out your response. “Tell me, Hermosa. Who’s this all for?” You could feel the hot breath of his words against your cunt as he tucked his head between your spread legs, hooking his arms around them.

“You, Javi, holy shit, it’s all for you.” You moaned, reaching a hand down to tug at the ends of his rich, brown curls as Javi licked a long, broad strip of his tongue against your heat. The pressure against your already throbbing clit had you whining, pulling tighter at Javi’s hair as his fingers set a steady rhythm with each thrust of his hand. Curling them ever so slightly, the new angle of his fingers inside you had him pressing against the spot he knew would unravel you, memorizing you like the pages of a well worn book he had read over and over again. His face was buried in your pussy, swirling circles with his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves, the presence of his broad frame nestled between your thighs making you cry out his name, leaving the hand unburied in his locks fisting at the bedsheets. You could practically feel Javi’s grin as he sucked around your clit, feeling you begin to clench tighter around his fingers with each thrust of his hand. His pace was relentless as he could feel you coming undone, devouring you with each meticulous movement of his mouth and stroke of his fingers. You could feel the heat creeping up your spine, your legs beginning to tremble as that all too familiar feeling built inside you.

“Oh Javi, fuck, fuck baby, I’m so close, don’t st-ahhhhhhhh.”

Pleasure flowed through your veins, as you felt yourself gush around Javi’s fingers, gripping tighter at his hair as your orgasm swept through your body, leaving you a whimpering mess as he withdrew his digits and detached his mouth, the smirk of his mustache covered in your slick as he watched you begin to catch your breath as you came down from you high.

“That’s my good girl. Always so fucking sweet when you come for me, baby. Sit up Osita, I need to take this off so I can see what’s under that pretty little dress of yours.” Pushing yourself off your forearms and onto your hands, Javi crawled over the edge of the bed towards you, pressing tender kisses along your neck and down your collarbone as he carefully slid the straps off your shoulders before his hands wandered to your back, gently pulling down your zipper. His touch made you shiver, so soft as it pressed against your skin, each moment undressing you feeling so delicate. Javi drank every inch of you in as he left you exposed, helping you to lift your arms over your head as your dress left your body. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect.” He whispered, heedfully laying you down on the bed underneath him as he worked at the buttons of his shirt, shedding it to the floor before the clinking of his belt buckle led his pants and boxers to follow suit. Hovering over you, he stroked himself before caging his chest against yours, nipping at your neck as his words danced in your ear. “I wanna have you just like this, baby. Take all of you in, every beautiful part of you.”

“Kiss me.” You weren’t sure if you were begging him or demanding him, but in that moment, there was nothing more you needed than to feel Javi’s lips on yours, for your mouths to meet in an electric moment where the only things that existed were you and him. Resting his forehead against yours, you felt the gentlest nod, the strong arch of his nose brushing along the length of yours before he pressed his lips between the open slot of your mouth. You felt the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip, his mouth swallowing your moans as he guided his length through your folds, his tip collecting your arousal before slowly sinking into you. You savored in his sweet stretch, wrapping your arms around the broadness of his back as he bottomed out into you, pausing for a moment before withdrawing and tenderly stroking back into you.

His thrusts were slow and steady, relishing in the beauty of you beneath him, soaking in every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself. There was something so intimate about the way you found yourselves, your bodies melting together as one, fitting together like a perfect pair, never again meant to be separated.

“I love you.”

Your soft murmur bringing his eyes to yours, Javi’s gaze desperate and needy as his lips met yours again, planting his palms on either side of the pillow your head was resting on as his thrusts became deeper and more intense as his hips flushed against yours.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

You could feel the arousal pooling in your belly, building more and more present with each stroke of his cock pressing against the spot that made your mind go blank. The way he was so deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, combined with the way the curls of his hair around his base brushed against your clit had you whimpering, already feeling your second orgasming building as Javi began babbling in your ear, his words only making you clench tighter around his length.

“I love you so much, Osita. I wanna give you everything, baby. I wanna marry you, put a ring on your finger- fuck- find us a house with enough rooms to fill with as many babies as you want, I wanna spend every day making you so fucking happy-ahhh, it’s you and me, Osita. Yeah? Eres todo lo que necesita.” (You’re all I need).

That was all it took to send you over the edge, wrapping your legs around the small of his back, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you cried out his name into his soft skin, over and over again. As he watched you come undone, it didn’t take long for Javi to feel himself reach his own high, pumping a few more times into your hilt before pulsing into you, his spend coating your walls, milking every last drop of himself before slouching into you, his body draped over yours as your chests rose and fell together with each breath, laying for a few moments in the sweet silence, basking in the presence of one another. Pushing himself up, Javi hissed as he gently pulled himself out, the mix of your spend coating your thighs and the sheets below you, quicking getting up to grab you a washcloth from the neatly folded pile on the sink before bringing it back to you, carefully wiping you up before tossing it across the room to the bathroom floor.

Scooping you up and laying you across his chest, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could to him as he pressed a long kiss into the tangled ends of your hair, only retracting as he felt the warm huffs of your giggles against his skin, grinning at your heartwarming smile.

“What’s so funny, Hermosa? He asked, brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Do you ever think about if you never came to do that presentation? That none of this could have never happened? That we could have gone the rest of our lives without ever meeting each other? And now here we are, in fucking Chicago, going to a wedding together, having the like, most romantic, drunk sex ever in the history of man kind? I don’t know. It’s kinda just crazy how life works sometimes, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know…Ever since I’ve met you, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to imagine it any other way.” He cupped his hand around your jaw, cradling it as his thumb rubbed across the warmth of your smiling cheeks.

Javier Peña couldn’t fathom the idea of his life without you, and now, he was one step closer to proving to you that he never had to. After exhausted, hungover goodbyes, and a sleepy flight back to the Laredo airport, the first thing Javi did after you had unpacked from your trip and gotten into the shower was dig through the back of his sock drawer. Every day since his birthday when he had tucked it away there, he couldn’t help but to take it out and look at it, imagining how it would feel when he finally slid it on your finger and asked you to be his wife. Because in a sock, inside a sock, inside another sock, was a little velvet case that held a beautiful diamond ring that was about to be yours.

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts

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sorchathered · 4 months

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@djs8891

@purelyfiction

@86laura11

@shanimallina87

@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@nervousnerdwitch

@mygyn

@jessicab1991

@its-the-pilot

@dempy

#top gun maverick #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun rooster #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fandom

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diorsluv · 2 months

Text

die for you , part 1

“ swear i couldn’t sleep a wink last night ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by jasonrob19, mush__27, trevorzegras, and 314,882 others

yourusername got new pink leg warmers 😈🎀

view all comments

username12 trevor has been liking and commenting for MONTHS there’s no way they’re not hooking up

→ username25 calm down she’s friends with turcs and cole 😭😭

logan.stankoven WE GET IT you got new skates or whatever

→ yourusername i will personally send you back to the ahl

→ logan.stankoven okay i was on fire on the texas stars 🥱

→ yourusername what if i light you on fire 🤗

→ logan.stankoven oh!

→ jpav8 let’s be nice guys

_alexturcotte is that the lululemon water bottle

→ yourusername HOW COULD YOU TELL FROM THE LID??

→ _alexturcotte my spidey senses tingled

→ yourusername turcotte tingle is insane

→ _alexturcotte HEY MAN don’t slander the family name ❌❌

username36 my figure skater idol 🙇‍♀️

username4 trevor zegras eh??

colecaufield and new skates and new skate guards and a new bag

→ yourusername you sent me money what was i supposed to do with it????

→ colecaufield use it to pay off your student loans 😒😒

→ yourusername but you already paid them off for me 😶

wyattjohnston_ that’s so preppy and coquette

→ yourusername stop. just stop 😭

→ wyattjohnston_ I’M TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE

→ yourusername THEN STOP

→ wyattjohnston_ you don’t want me to be supportive of you? 😔

→ yourusername no

jasonrob19 i bought those skates for you

→ mush__27 we know you spoil her 🙄

→ t.harley48 fr you ain’t gotta flex

→ yourusername indeed you did 😈😈

username41 i’m patiently waiting for the day trevor accidentally posts that they’re dating

→ username88 is he not with dixie??

→ username12 LMAO as if

jackhughes niceee solid skates

→ yourusername jack hughes 😱

→ jackhughes yes that’s me

→ yourusername i feel like a successful fangirl

→ jake30oettinger i thought you liked the stars 😒 yourusername

→ yourusername I LOVE THE STARS I PROMISE OTTER

trevorzegras 👍

liked by yourusername

→ _alexturcotte you’re such a pussy

→ trevorzegras you are what you eat

→ _alexturcotte stfu

→ colecaufield stop being so critical turcs

username53 it’s so preppy in here!

ilia_quadg0d_malinin oh please we all know i can do better

→ yourusername your ego is unbearably big

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin say that to me when you land a quad

→ yourusername I LITERALLY DID IT BEFORE YOU THO????

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin that’s a lie and we both know it

→ yourusername STOP GASLIGHTING ME THIS IS NOT BEST FRIEND BEHAVIOR

lhughes_06 Ma’am, would you like to visit the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey to watch us practice prior to our game against the Anaheim Ducks?

→ jackhughes you’re supposed to dm her, not publicly comment…

→ lhughes_06 YOU TOLD ME TO COMMENT ON A POST

→ lhughes_06 this is ur fault

→ yourusername YES I WOULD

→ lhughes_06 see it worked anyways jackhughes

t.harley48 you messed up the ice before practice 🤬🤬

→ yourusername stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ wyattjohnston_ stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ logan.stankoven stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ mush__27 stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ t.harley48 once i get on that zamboni it’s over for you all

yourusername

liked by miroheiskanen, trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, and 300,024 others

yourusername someone tell him i’m outside waiting rn 🙏

view all comments

username29 PLEASE TELL ME “HIM” IS TREVOR

ilia_quadg0d_malinin oh! when did you start posting about your crippling love life 😍

→ yourusername you’re like the only person i told and you proceed to make fun of me 😃😃

→ wyattjohnston_ no you told me

→ logan.stankoven and me

→ jpav8 and wyatt told me

→ hhinee you told me as well

→ miroheiskanen i also know

→ matt9duchene so do i

→ tseguin92 oh you told me too

→ t.harley48 don’t forget about me

→ jake30oettinger you literally told me too

→ mush__27 good lord how many people did you tell (i know about it too)

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin you told an ENTIRE nhl team. yourusername

→ yourusername ……..i told you first…..?

→ jasonrob19 what are we talking about

nickrobertson01 that’s not one of your jackets…

→ yourusername how would you know if you haven’t been in my closet 🤨

→ nickrobertson01 you just gave me a closet tour on ft yesterday…..?

→ jasonrob19 then whose jacket is it?????

→ yourusername no one i swear it’s mine 😰😰

jamiebenn14 is that not a literal nightgown?

→ yourusername stop judging my stylistic choices 💔

→ tseguin82 THAT’S WHAT I WAS THINKING

→ yourusername you old men are NOT hip with the kids

→ jpav8 you’re breaking our hearts here 😔😔

username33 is that or is that not the outside of an ice rink???

username20 i swear to god she’s seeing trevor

username94 someone tell me i’m insane because i swear i’ve seen the ducks practice there before

→ username17 no no you’re not insane i think you’re right 😰

→ username11 lmfao maybe she just practices there too???

hhinee so to be clear, “him” is HIM right?

→ yourusername yes yes you’re right roop

→ jasonrob19 why do i not know what you’re talking about

username6 IF I’M RIGHT, i think i’ve seen that backpack in the background of one of trevor’s stories before…

logan.stankoven so what i’m hearing is if you hang out with him, you leave us alone?

→ yourusername what happened to the kid that BEGGED for my autograph when i showed up to one of the texas stars games

→ logan.stankoven YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER BRING THAT UP

→ yourusername 🙄

→ wyattjohnston_ HE BEGGED?????

_quinnhughes cool fit i like it 👍

→ yourusername aw thank you ☺️

→ username37 OH MY GOD IS IT QUINN

→ username72 WHAT THE FUCK WAIT A SECOND

colecaufield i see you’ve been gaining more attention..

→ yourusername are you saying i’m not successful enough to regularly get attention??

→ colecaufield oh my god YOU ALWAYS DO THIS

_alexturcotte i have never seen someone leave mid-convo as quickly as i just did

→ yourusername you were with him?

→ _alexturcotte no he just stopped typing all of a sudden

→ yourusername so you were.. texting him????

→ _alexturcotte yeah??

→ yourusername THEN HOW TF DID YOU SEE HIM LEAVE??

→ _alexturcotte I DONT FUCKING KNOW I WAS JUST YAPPING

→ yourusername you know for someone so smart, sometimes you make no sense 😭

mush__27 you being 1,500 miles away should be a crime

→ yourusername oh stop complaining i was literally back home like 8 hours ago

username17 has trevor not commented yet??

→ username99 it’s not as if he comments frequently

jake30oettinger you’re so not slick

→ yourusername that’s great i’m so glad you noticed even though you literally didn’t know until i told you!

→ jasonrob19 PLEASE GOD JUST TELL ME 😔

next chapter notes ) your bitch is back with a trevor au and this time it’s gonna be irl + smau because i was fucking STRUGGLING with feather.. and also i’m thinking of the nickname being lacey because i think it’s just so cute and also i got a whole backstory and all… 😈 but regarding ilia malinin and all of my favorite dallas stars.. yall might have to know some stars and figure skating lore for this one but i don’t really think it’s gonna affect the plot of the story or the story itself (you just might not know who anyone is 😭😭) as always if you wanna be tagged, just comment or dm me!!

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captainamericasmotercycle · 2 years

Note

Hangman x female reader

Hangman falling in love with wolfmans daughter,she was so overly sweet and gentle,she couldn’t ever stay mad at someone and he didn’t understand why but she was the one girl who truly made him feel weak to his knees.They we’re best friends and she never once judged him for how he held himself around others,through the arogence and the cockyness somehow she saw straight through it all an when he was having a really hard night and nobody seemed to know because he was great at hiding that,she ended up just sitting in his lap after he finished playing pool and running her hand through the back of his hair not saying anything at all,it was her just trying to relax him though jake found himself making getting excited about something else.

southern belle

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader

warnings: none

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i hate to be THAT person but sorry this took so long, i had this uncompleted in my drafts and i scheduled to post it last week but a hurricane deadass annihilated my state but anyways i decided to make jake and the reader in an already established relationship i hope that’s okay!

“I’ve been hearing some talk about you around base, Bagman,” Natasha said while finishing her turn in pool.

“Well, what can I say? Pilots are big talkers,” he responded, bending over the table to take his shot.

“Saying you’ve got someone back home,”

Jake looked up at her, “Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

“So it’s true?”

“Yeah,”

“Are you fucking with me, because it’s not funny.”

Bob, Javy, Bradley, and Mav walk up to the area where they normally hang out in the back of the Hard Deck.

“What’s Jake doing this time,” Bradley asks, handing a beer to Natasha.

She takes a sip of her beer and looks around at everyone, “Is Jake actually married or is he fucking with me?”

“He’s married,” almost everyone says in unison.

“Bagman? Like Jake Seresin? Is married?”

Maverick laughs, “Yep, his high school sweetheart if I’m correct,”

“Yes sir,”

“How do you know that? How did everyone know he’s married?”

“He’s married to my Goddaughter,” Natasha’s mouth dropped open and it was like her jaw was going to hit the floor.

“And one of my childhood friends,” Bradley added.

“What?”

“Yeah. None of us have met her but Jake’s said things here and there about her,” Javy says, taking a seat and pointing in between himself and the rest of the squad, excluding Jake, Bradley, and Maverick.

“This is unbelievable. How is Jake Seresin married and I’m not?”

—

This weekend was one that wasn’t too busy for the aviators, so you decided to come up to go house hunting with Jake. You wanted to be with him, but you also wanted him to stay at his base in San Diego. So you compromised and decided to move out to California.

Of course you were going to miss your little place in Texas, but it was worth moving if it meant you would be with Jake again. You had been apart for almost 3 weeks while he worked and you got the moving details sorted out.

You flew in around 7 and texted Jake that you were there. He told you to come down to a little bar called the Hard Deck. You heard your stomach rumble, yeah, you could eat.

You managed to get a rental car and drive yourself out there. When you arrived, you couldn’t help but to feel nervous. You hadn’t met any of his fellow pilots or friends in California, well except for Maverick and Penny.

You grabbed your phone and hopped out of the car. Walking in, you spotted Jake across the bar, and you felt like you had butterflies in your stomach. Even after 6 years, he could still make you feel like a high school girl with a crush.

You divert your attention away to behind the bar where you spot Penny. You walk over to her and lean against the bar. She’s pouring a beer, “I’ll be right with you,” she slides the beer down the bar and turns to you.

She gasps and smiles widely, exclaiming your name. “What are you doing here?” She tells someone to cover for her and walks out from behind the bar. She engulfs you in a big hug.

“I’m up here for a while to look for houses with Jake. I mean he’s got a place but we just figured we would rather have a bigger place with a yard, you know, just in case,” you winked.

“I see,” Penny smiled back. She worked her way back behind the bar, “Well what can I get for you tonight?”

“Get me one of whatever Jake is having,”

“I’m on it,” she winked and smiled while going to pour your drink. You kept yourself leaning against the bar.

Jake spotted you from across the bar and got butterflies. Even after 6 years, you could still make him as flustered as the day you met. He set down his cue stick and walked over to Natasha, “Hey, Trace, how much do you bet that I can get that girl’s number,” he pointed over to you.

She looked at him confused, “I thought you were married?” I mean, he had to have a little fun tonight. Jake pretended to slick back his hair and made his way over to you. Natasha watched with a shocked face, but Maverick knew exactly what was happening, this wasn’t the first time he had pulled a stunt like this.

He finally got to where you were standing and leaned against the bar next to you, “Hey, Darlin’, what are you drinking tonight?”

You turned and smiled at him, “You know, I’m havin’ whatever my husband is havin’,”

“Shame you’re married, we could’ve made a good match,” he pretended to pout. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck and he leant down and kissed you softly.

Across the bar, Natasha dropped her pool cue in disbelief. She watched Penny come back with a beer and talk to Jake and the mysterious woman. The woman grabbed her beer and Jake grabbed her hand, leading her back to the group. Natasha’s mouth was still wide open.

The pair came over, laughing. “This is my wife,” he introduced you to the Dagger Squad. Natasha shut her mouth, which was now dry and she watched your interactions with the rest of the team. You walked over to Maverick first and he engulfed you in a fatherly-like embrace. “It’s good to see you kid,”

“You too, Uncle Mav.” Okay so Maverick wasn’t lying about you being his Goddaughter. This was unbelievable for Natasha Trace. How in the world is Jake “Hangman” Seresin, married to a sweet thing like you?

You made your way around the area, introducing yourself to all of Jake’s friends.

“Bradshaw,” you smile.

“Wolfe,” you squint your eyes at him, “Not anymore, Bradshaw, I’m a Seresin now, I have been for a while too,”

“Really? You’d rather take on this dip’s name, rather than keep the cool one?”

“Alright, Bradshaw, that’s enough slander on my humble family name,” Jake cut in. Natasha watched the interaction between the three of you, well I guess Bradley wasn’t lying about you being childhood friends.

Maybe she’s in some sort of nightmare, this can’t be real. You walked over to Natasha last, “Hi,” you tried to introduce yourself to her, but Jake interrupted you, “This is the Mrs.,” he said proudly.

You rolled your eyes at him and introduced yourself to her in the way you wanted, “You must be Natasha, I’ve heard so much about you from Mav. He says you’re an amazing pilot,” you smiled at her and she smiled back, in a forced kind of way. She wanted to reach out and touch your face to make sure you were real.

“So you’re married to Jake?”

“Yes, ma’am,”

“Like, you?”

You giggled, “I am,”

“Natasha, seriously–”

“Jake, this is your wife? But she’s so sweet and you’re so… not,”

You gasped, “My Jake? He could never even hurt a fly, his momma raised him better than that. He’s the sweetest man I know!” You knew he wasn’t, but you had to have a little fun. You’ve been with Jake for 6 years, of course you knew he had a temper, teasing tendencies, and a bit of an attitude, but you’d never admit it out loud.

“See, thank you, sweetheart. At least someone has my side,”

“Of course, baby,”

—

You spent the rest of the night trading stories and sipping beer. The bar began to empty and soon enough it was only your group in there.

Jake was sitting across from you, watching you tell stories of when you two were in high school. He didn’t know how you did it, but just the looks you gave him made him weak in the knees. He began to get more tipsy and more emotionally overwhelmed.

He came over to you and sat down, he laid his head on your shoulder and you didn’t even think twice. You ran your hand through his hair as he lay down, you didn’t even blink when he came over, you just continued to tell your story.

When you were finished talking, he pulled himself up to your ear and whispered to you, asking to go home. You nodded and waited for Bob to finish his story.

When the end of the story came, you stood up and grabbed Jake’s hand, “I think it’s time for us to head out. It was wonderful to meet you all tonight, we should do this again soon.” You all said your goodbyes and you dragged Jake out to the rental car.

“Baby, my truck,” he pouted.

“We can come back for it tomorrow, honey, right now let’s get you home,”

He nodded and followed you to the car, you helped him in and you got into the driver’s seat, you having had much less to drink than Jake. You pulled out of the parking lot of the Hard Deck and began to make your way home to the apartment.

A perfect ending to a perfect night.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangman top gun #pete maverick mitchell #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x wife!reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman fluff #hangman x you

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that1fanficwriter · 3 months

Text

If The Hat Fits

Dodge Mason x fem!reader

Summary: Dodge shows you what happens when you wear a cowboy’s hat

Warnings: smut with plot, little bit of a marking kink, no use of y/n, unprotected sex but reader could be assumed to be on bcp.

AN: I finally finished this! It has taken me literal minutes to finish this. This is my first time writing smut so we’ll see how it goes. I’m very open to feedback. I recently got back into Panic so hopefully, everyone will like it; let's just ignore any plot or character inconsistencies. I also have no idea how rodeos or anything like that works.

Even though you had grown up in Texas, you had never heard about what happens if you wear a cowboy's hat. You started dating Dodge shortly after he moved to Carp, and it had been going swimmingly ever since.

Today you were meeting Dodge over at the farm at the edge of town where the rodeo is being held later this afternoon. You had never seen Dodge compete, and you were worried because, living in Texas, you always heard about things like this going awry.

Once you got the field (is it considered a field? arena, maybe?) and parted ways with your sweet cowboy, giving him a god luck kiss, you chose a spot along the fence so that you could get the best view of your man.

Finally, after a little while of waiting, everyone came out for the competition.

~Time Skip because I don't know sports~

After the competition was finished, you patiently waited for everyone to congratulate Dodge before you approached him to give him your own congratulations on his achievement.

"Hey there, cowboy. You did pretty well out there." You say as you meander over to Dodge and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Why, thank you. It always helps to have my good luck charm cheering me on." He bends down to pick you up and spin you around. Once he sets you down, you pull him down to kiss you.

"Should we get going?" You ask.

"Yeah, let me go grab my stuff." He responds. Before he can walk away, you grab the hat from his head and put it on your own. Dodge surprises you and doesn't say anything; he gives you a cheeky smile and walks away. As you lean against the fence, waiting on your phone, you see Ray sauntering over to you out of the corner of your eye.

"What do you want, Ray." You say, groaning, ready for the conversation to be over already.

"I see you're wearin' Dodgey boy's hat." He says with his signature smirk.

"Yeah, and?"

"Don't ya know what happens when you wear a cowboy's hat?"

"No," you say, put off, "would you care to enlighten me?"

"Oh boy, I think that I'll let Dodge clear that up for you since he's coming over this way right now," Ray says before walking away to go torment someone else.

"What did the idiot want?" Dodge asks as he meets you and watches Ray walk away.

"Who knows. Something about what happens when you wear a cowboy's hat." You shrug before grabbing Dodge's hand and walking to the car. While walking, you notice the blush starting to creep up Dodge's neck. "Ok, why are you blushing?" You ask, poking his cheek.

"What? No, I'm not." He deflects.

"Oh yes, you are. I can see it right here. Your ears are turning red." you giggle. "Seriously, what is it."

"Oh, you know, it's just the hat thing."

"Ok, what is the "hat thing," though? Ray wouldn't explain it to me, and I have no idea what it is."

"Really? How have you never heard about it? You have lived in Texas your whole life, right?" He says, turning to you in disbelief.

"Yes! Now would you just tell me already!" You turn to him.

"Sure, let's get in the car first, though, alright?" He says, trying to get you into the car.

You go to the passenger side of the car and get in while Dodge does the same on the driver's side.

"Ok, now spill." You say, facing Dodge.

"I still can't believe you've never heard of this." He laughs. "So, supposedly, if you wear a cowboy's hat, you have to ride the cowboy. You know, the whole “save a horse, ride a cowboy” thing?" He blushes again, running his hand over his face and behind his neck.

"God, that makes so much more sense now." You blush, realizing what this means.

"Exactly. Now that you know, do you want to uphold it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do." You say, taking his hand in yours.

"Well, my sister and mom aren't home today, so do you want to go to my house?"

"Absolutely," you reply, smile beaming off of your face.

Dodge lets go of your hand and begins to drive back to his house as fast as possible, while both of you hope you won't come across any cops and get pulled over. Once you get back to his house Dodge all but drags you out of the car and into the house. As soon as the door closes, you are pressed against it with Dodge at your lips. With passion growing, he continues to kiss you and starts to move the two of you towards his bedroom.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He whispers into your neck as soon as you are in his room and pressed against the door. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” He asks again, just to be sure. (Consent is so sexy)

“Yes, of course,” you breathe, “I want this so bad. I want you.”

Once those words are issued from your lips, it is as if all control Dodge had before is gone. He immediately begins to attack your neck with kisses and love bites.

“Dodge,” you moan, “what’re you doing?”

“If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right and make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He replies, making his way down your neck towards your cleavage.

He slowly works his hands up underneath your shirt, feeling the full expanse of your skin and asking permission to take it off. You nod and let out a moan as he leaves a particularly large hickey beneath your collarbone, right where everyone would be able to see. Dodge slowly began to undress you. After breaking your kiss to take your shirt off, Dodge immediately dives back into your lips this time picking you up to set you on his bed. He slowly starts to kiss his way down your body, only stopping to take your bra off and leave more than a few hickeys on your boobs just for him to see. He slowly starts kissing lower this time; kissing all the way down to your belly button but skipping over your shorts to leave love bites on the inside of your thighs. After felling successful in leaving enough marks on you he looks up with is brown doe eyes again.

"I just want to make sure this is still ok with you," he says giving the inside of your thigh one more kiss.

"Yes, absolutely yes," you groan out.

After hearing your need Dodge jumps back up to give your stomach one last kiss before taking your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. After ridding you of any unwanted barriers Dodge takes advantage of the newly exposed skin to leave a few more hickies, once again, only for his view. Before he can get even more carried away you stop him.

“You know, I find it a little unfair that you haven’t taken off any clothes yet.” You point out, pushing yourself up to your elbows, displeased at Dodge’s state of undress, or lack thereof.

“Would you like me to fix that for you, princess? Or would you like to do the honors?” He asks, standing with a shit-eating grin. You blush in response.

"I would absolutely like to do the honors," you reply, pushing yourself to kneel on the bed. Slowly you start to kiss him again while you unbutton his shirt. Once you get the shirt all the way unbuttoned you push it off of his broad shoulder and down his arms without breaking the kiss. Then you slowly start kissing your way down his body, making sure to leave a few of your own marks in return. Once you get down to his perfectly chiseled v-line you decide to leave Dodge a group of hickeys in the shape of your initial.

"What are you doing?" Dodge questions, peering down.

"Nothing," you giggle, "just leaving you a little surprise."

Dodge just nods as you slowly start unbuttoning his jeans and pull them down. Once his pants and boxers are kicked off by his feet Dodge pulls you back up into another heated hiss.

"Baby, as much as I would love for you to suck me off right now, I think I might burst if I don't get into your cunt right now and besides, you need to prove that you can wear my hat," he whispers into your ear. He pulls back from the kiss and guides you back on to the bed and sits against the headboard. You crawl up the bed to straddle Dodge, leaning in again to kiss him as you start to grind on top of his throbbing member.

"Ugh," he moans, "you're already so wet for me. Practically drenching my cock and I've barely even done anything."

"What can I say, I love to reward my brave cowboy after every rodeo," you whisper, leaving a hickey near his pulse point. You make your way back up to his lips again while taking his throbbing member in your hand and sliding it up with your throbbing cunt. Slowly sinking down onto him you take a moment to adjust to how long his cock is. Both of you sighing as you sheath his full member inside of you and you feel the pressure turn into pleasure. Once you feel ready you start to move, grinding back and forth on Dodge’s dick.

“Ugh,” Dodge grunts out, “sweetheart you feel so good, so warm and soft around me. I’m not sure how long I’m going to last.”

“Dodge, baby, I can feel you so deep inside of me.” you reply, taking his hand from your hip to put it on your stomach so he can feel the slight bump his cock is making. Dodge moans and throws his head back in reaction, giving you the perfect opportunity to keep littering his neck and chest with kisses as you grind onto his cock.

Eventually, your doting boyfriend can tell that your legs are getting tired despite that fact that you are close to coming. He grips your hips with a renewed fervor and helps you alternate grinding with bouncing on his cock. As Dodge starts to get closer you feel his hand tighten on your hips and he buries his head in your neck. You feel the cusp of your orgasm start to approach and you gasp out.

“Yes! Dodge! Right there!” You say, out of breath as your orgasm washes over you. You feel Dodge’s movements still as he pulls you closer and releases inside of you.

“I love you so much sweets,” he moans into your ear, “fuck, that was so good.”

“Well I guess you have Ray to thank for that.” You giggle, placing a few more nips along the expanse of his neck.

“Shut up,” he says as he flips the two of you over and pins your hands above your head. “I don’t know about you, but I think I need to return the favor.” He pushes his already hard cock back into your pussy, wet with arousal and the mixing fluids of your previous orgasms.

“So did I prove that I can wear your hat? Did I successfully save a horse?” You tease in between moans.

Of course you did, and I had no doubt you would be anything less than capable.” Dodge moans out, continuing to languidly thrust into you. “In fact, I think you should wear my hat to school tomorrow and show if these marks so everyone knows that you’re my girl.” He says, leaving a new string of love bites across the top of your cleavage.

“Ah! Dodge!” You giggle, pushing his head away. “Stop it, now you’re just tickling me. Besides, are you sure we can handle the ribbing from Ray; not to mention that then the judges in panic will know how down bad you are for me. Wouldn’t want them using it against you.” You point out as Dodge stills inside of you.

“Babygirl, I have wanted to scream my love for you from the rooftops ever since we started dating. I want every guy in the state of Texas, hell, the world to know that you are taken by me; that we’re together until the end of time.” Dodge says, placing a gentle had on your cheek and staring into your eyes.

“Oh Dodge,” you exclaim, “you mean everything to me, I don’t know what I’d be without you.” You throw your arms around him and pull him into a kiss, subtly moving your hips again to encourage Dodge to start thrusting again.

He takes the signal and quickly find the right tempo for the both of you. Snaking an arm between your bodies he starts rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, giving you the perfect stimulation to bring you to the precipice quicker than before. You pull him closer to you, your nails leaving marks along his back as you tumble over the edge. Dodge makes sure to cum at the same time as you and lets his body weight rest in too of you once you both are spent.

“Why don’t I get you cleaned up and make some snack so we can have a night in tonight. My mom and Dana are out of town for one of her appointments so you could stay the night and I could take you to school tomorrow.” Dodge suggests, slowly pulling out of you and moseying over to the bathroom.

“That sounds perfect,” you reply, turning over to face him. “I love you, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” he replies, coming back with a warm washcloth, “I know because I love you with every fiber of my being. Now get comfy because I’ll be right back with snack and my laptop so we can watch our show.” Dodge disappears into the hallway and presumably into the kitchen to make a snack. You fluff the pillows behind yourself and nestle yourself down in the covers, content to wait for your adorning boyfriend to come back so you can cuddle into his side and relax for the evening.

A/N: Not proofread yet. Please let me know how my smut writing is and send me more ideas of what to write!

#dodge mason #dodge mason x reader #dodge mason smut #smut #dodge mason panic #panic #dodge mason x reader smut

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justagalwhowrites · 6 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 1: Can I Buy You a Beer?

You run into someone you don't expect when out for a drink. A continuation of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Yes it's a Javi gif but we're gonna say he's Joel because Joel is in his 30s for this fic, OK?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.7K

AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Austin, Texas

September 30, 2022

You were going to strangle Alyssa.

It sure as hell hadn’t been your idea to go out drinking to celebrate the end of the first month of the school year. Definitely not your idea to do it at a bar that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned this decade. And it absolutely was not your idea to try to pick up a guy while out at said dingy bar.

But it apparently was Alyssa’s idea of a good time.

You sighed as you watched people go to and from the bar from your seat tucked in the corner. You tried to come up with stories for the people you could see in the dim light, like they were characters in a book you were writing. The biker in a leather vest, you decided, had been an accountant for 20 years when he bought a Harley during his midlife crisis. He’d become a mechanic when he became too obsessed with the bike to be satisfied behind a desk. His wife was pissed but his son thought he was way cooler now. The couple at the end of the bar were on a second… no, third date. She was deciding whether or not to fuck him. You thought it was going to go in his favor.

Alyssa had moved out of the seat next to the guy she’d taken up with and into his lap. You wondered if there was a world record for how far someone’s tongue could be down another person’s throat. It had to trigger her gag reflex at some point, right? Or maybe she didn’t have one. That must be nice. Maybe that was the key to being good at oral. Maybe you’d be better at it if you didn’t have a gag reflex. Maybe you’d still have a husband if you were better at oral.

You downed the last of your Shiner and rapped your fingers along the side of the glass. That was one upside to being back in Texas, at least. Shiner Bock on tap was a nice perk.

Next time you went out with Alyssa, you were driving yourself. If there was a next time.

But you’d probably cave before too long. You didn’t have many friends and you liked her. Even though this night hadn’t been much fun and getting to know her at all had been awkward at first. Alyssa was a few years younger than you and the first time she’d stumbled into your office she had your book in her hands and a wide smile on her face.

“I am so sorry if this is weird,” she said after a brief introduction. “But… I’m in love with your book and I am dying for you to sign it!”

“Sure,” you laughed a little and she passed it to you. You flipped to the title page and scrawled “Alyssa, Thanks for reading. With love, your coworker” before you penned the signature you’d practiced a million times with your agent below and handed it back. She squeaked, a little giddy, before offering to show you the best restaurants near campus. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d grown up in Austin so you had plenty of favorites without any extra help.

Still, you had this strange drive to have Alyssa see you as a normal person. Award-winning author famous was, thankfully, not the kind to get you recognized on the street but it still made you uncomfortable. Book signings and readings were exercises in misery. There was the acute agony of being observed and noted, the strange knowledge that, for these strangers, this brief encounter was going to be something they remembered. They’d remember if you had a mustard stain on your shirt or if there was lipstick on your teeth or if the stress you were under as you traveled from city to city while your marriage fell to pieces around you made you snap at someone. You never realized how keenly you valued anonymity until it wasn’t an option anymore.

The very last thing you wanted was someone who was a fan with an office two doors down from your own.

So, you’d decided to have her be a friend instead. Make it so she saw you as a person and not someone from the inside of a book jacket. The two of you had gone to lunch a few times and out for a quick drink once, too. It had been nice and, ever since, it felt like she had stopped watching you like a pseudo-celebrity and started seeing you as a friend. Or, at the very least, a friendly acquaintance.

So when she’d asked if you wanted to get some drinks tonight, you’d said yes, envisioning the lounge she’d suggested the first time you’d gone out, one with jazz music playing quietly enough that you could chat over it.

That was not where she suggested this time.

But you were already here and edging in on tipsy and if you were going to spend the night alone at a bar and, eventually, at home with your vibrator, you may as well be drunk doing it.

You made your way to the bar and ordered a tequila shot and another beer, drumming your fingers on the bar top as you waited for your drinks.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” a man who had to have at least 10 years on you sidled up next to you at the bar. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ getting your own drinks?”

“No one else was volunteering,” you gave him a tight smile. “But I’m not looking for company so…”

“Don’t tell me you’re here all by your lonesome?” He smiled a lopsided, cocky smile, looking you up and down. The accent felt a little heavy handed and the cowboy hat put it over the top. You wondered, idly, if he was hiding a bald spot under there.

“I prefer flying solo, but thank you,” you said, peering around him to watch the bartender flirt with a girl who looked like she was newly 21 and probably here slumming it at this bar that was far from the school. You sighed and settled in to wait even longer for your drinks.

“Girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be all on her own,” he said, leaning against the bar and blocking your view. “No way someone hasn’t snapped you up yet, a face like that…”

“Oh my face has nothing to do with it,” you smiled, forcing your eyes to go wide enough that you looked a little crazed. “It’s because I’m a murderous sociopath with six bodies buried beneath my house.”

The man just blinked at you, a puzzled look on his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head and you considered, for a moment, timing him to see how long it would take to piece it together.

“She’s right you know,” a familiar voice from behind you made you stiffen. “There's a reason she's here alone. This one’s insane, she’d chew you up and spit you out, man. Best you find someone else to try n’take home.”

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.”

You watched the man shove himself back from the bar and prowl off to find another woman to try and bed before turning, slowly, to the man standing at your back. Your heart beat picked up in spite of yourself when you saw him, as tall and broad and somehow even more handsome than ever.

Joel Miller smiled, one of his cocky, lopsided smiles that made his cheek dimple.

“Hey, Goldie.”

***

It was you.

Here, in this shitty bar in his corner of Austin on a Friday night was you.

Joel froze when he saw you, sitting in a corner by yourself, watching the bar with a far away look on your face.

It was a look he knew intimately, even though it had been 11 years since he’d last seen your face in person. You’d get that look when you were thinking about something important, something you wanted to remember. You’d have that look and then you’d open up that gold notebook of yours and write furiously for a minute or two before stashing it away.

“You ever gonna let me read any of that?” He’d teased one day as you sat, curled up in the corner of his couch, your notebook on your knees.

“No,” you scoffed. “Trust me, you don’t want anywhere near this disaster area. It’s basically just the word vomit version of my brain, it’s a mess up there.”

Joel didn’t push you on it but, truthfully, he’d have killed for a chance to see inside your mind for a moment. He wanted to crawl inside your skull and look at whatever you’d let him see. He wanted to memorize you, carry you with him, wrap himself up in you at every opportunity. You felt like home, more than anything else he’d ever had. Of course he wanted to be close enough to you to see inside your mind.

But that was a long time ago. Yes, it had been 11 years since he’d seen you but it had been even longer since he’d seen you when you weren’t pissed at him. In fairness, he was pretty pissed at you, too, but you’d started it.

And he wasn’t even sure why. He didn’t know what set you off to begin with. One night it was prom and the next thing he knew, you were gone. Taking off across the country before graduation without so much as a goodbye. You changed your number and your mom wouldn’t give it to him and you were just gone. Like the two of you hadn’t spent every day together for the last three years, like he had all meant nothing at all to you.

Joel saved up the money to buy a bus ticket to your fancy fucking college, intending to find you there and demand an explanation, but that hadn’t gone as planned. He just settled into not knowing and not understanding why the most important relationship in his life had been ripped away from him without a word.

But it had been a long time. He’d moved past the resentment of it and now he was all but awestruck at seeing you again.

“Hey, do you want…” Tommy’s voice trailed off and his eyes tracked where Joel’s were looking. “Holy fucking shit, is that…”

“Yup.”

“Did you know she…”

“Yup.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

“Know she was gonna be here?”

“Hell no.”

Joel caught a glimpse of his brother nodding out of the corner of his eye - he wasn’t about to stop looking at you, he was worried if he did you might disappear again - and sighed.

“You gonna talk to her?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“No idea.”

“Shit dude,” Tommy clapped his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Good luck with… whatever the fuck is gonna happen there.”

Joel glared at him for a second but kept his eyes on you. One of the other guys on the crew went to get the first round, something he appreciated because it meant he could keep watching you at a distance. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to you and he wasn’t about to just go talk to you with nothing to say.

But then you went to the bar and a guy was clearly annoying the hell out of you and, before he really knew what he was doing, he was heading for you.

“Hey, Goldie.”

You looked at him for a moment. You looked as surprised to see him as he was to see you.

“Hey, Joel.”

He smiled a little wider.

“Can I buy you a beer?” He asked.

“You’re a bit late, I’m afraid,” you said. “Already put it on my tab. But that’s assuming the bartender remembers I exist which seems like it might be aiming a bit high…”

Joel hung over the bar and hit the top of it a few times.

“Hey, Jimmy!” He yelled. The bartender whipped his head around. “Stop fuckin’ around, get my friend her shit, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning back to the woman he was talking to for a second before making you a shot first and then pouring your beer. He set both in front of you at the same time.

“Thank you,” you said, both to Joel and to Jimmy, and you did the shot, wincing as the tequila went down.

Joel whistled

“Shit, you lookin’ to get fucked up?”

“Well,” you coughed a little on the liquor before taking a sip of beer. “I already need to take an Uber home because the friend I came with is currently being devoured by that charming gentleman over there…” You nodded to a man at a table against the wall, a brunette draped across his lap who looked to be surgically connected to the man at the mouth. “So I figured, fuck it, may as well get hammered.”

Joel laughed a little at that.

“Since you’ve got no one else to get hammered with,” he shrugged. “Want to do it with me? Catch up a bit?”

You thought for a second, taking a sip of beer.

“Sure,” you said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Joel got a beer, too, and followed you back to your table before he settled in beside you. Part of it felt so natural, being next to you, but it was so different, too. You were different, fuck knows he was different.

“So,” he said, watching you. “You’re in town.”

“I am,” you nodded.

“Visiting Anna?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. It had made news, the fact that you were coming to teach at UT.

“Work,” you said. “Moved back a few months ago.”

“So what do you do now?” He asked. “For work, I mean.”

“Teach, mostly,” you said. “I’m at UT now. Literature and creative writing.”

“Seems right up your alley,” he nodded. “Always liked that sorta thing. You ever write that book?”

You nodded, taking another sip of beer.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just one, though.”

“Ever publish it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “A few years ago…” Joel laughed and you frowned. “What?”

“You really think I don’t know you wrote a fuckin’ book?” He asked. “Course I know you wrote a fuckin’ book. Jesus, Goldie, your name is on fuckin’ posters and shit! You think I live under a rock?”

You laughed.

“You dick!” You shoved him playfully. “Look, you’re basically illiterate, I didn’t want to assume…”

“Hey just because I do shit besides read does not mean I’m illiterate!” He laughed. “You’re just a nerd…”

“You only finished high school because I’m a nerd,” you rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure your coach was ready to make me an honorary member of the team since me hounding you about homework was the only thing that kept your ass grade eligible.”

“Oh, you were the MVP,” he smiled, watching you take another sip of your beer and you smiled that amused little smile, the one you had when you were humoring him, the same one you’d had since you were 15 years old. “No question about it.”

“Since you know all about me apparently,” you teased. “What’s been going on with you?”

Joel shrugged, taking a drink. Mostly to buy himself time.

Did he want to admit to you that he’d all but taken his life and driven it into the ground since he last saw you?

Not that he ever felt like he had much potential, anyway. You and his mom had been the only people who’d ever really seen anything in him. But then you left and she died and was he even failing anybody anymore? Certainly not himself. And everything he did now he did to make sure he didn’t fail his daughter who, for the last 10 plus years, had been the only thing in his life that made it seem like all the shit was worth something.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you about her, either. It seemed cheap, to bring her up in a bar to you of all people, one of the only reasons she existed in the first place.

“Kept busy,” he said instead with a shrug. “Workin’ construction. Roped Tommy into it about a year ago, too. His dumb ass kept getting into it with people, told him I wasn’t going to keep bailing him out of jail if he didn’t at least look like he was trying to get his shit together.”

You nodded and took another sip of beer.

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged again.

“Pays the bills.”

“Not what I asked, Joel.”

He looked at you. You were watching him in that keen way you had, your head cocked slightly to the side, your eyes looking at him like you could cut through everything, everything he ever had or was or would be, down into the lanky boy he’d been when he’d first met you.

“Not sure why it matters,” he said after a minute. “But it’s fine, I guess. Crew’s good. Work’s steady.”

“It matters because you deserve something that fulfills you,” you frowned slightly. “Don’t you think so?”

He laughed once, looking at you for a moment.

“Haven’t thought about shit that way in a while,” he said.

Since you left, he added silently. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t say it, even though part of him wanted to. Wanted to demand an answer, wanted to yell at you, wanted to cry at you and make you answer for the destruction that you left behind you. Destruction that Joel wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really recovered from, just found a way to live in the rubble of it all.

But you were here now, talking with him again.

“When was the last time we did this?” He asked.

“Did what?”

“Talked.”

You smiled a little.

“You mean besides the time you decided to yell at me about my romantic choices at my mother’s funeral?” You asked, brows raised. “Been a while.”

“Since prom?” He asked quietly.

He watched you clench your jaw before nodding and taking a drink.

“Since prom.”

Joel picked at the label on his beer bottle for a moment as you sat with your hands between your knees and looked anywhere but at him. Eventually, you picked up your drink glass again with your left hand and Joel traced your bare ring finger with his eyes.

“Thinkin’ I might have been right about the romantic choices,” he teased lightly and you frowned before he nodded at your hand.

“Ah, right,” you said, extending your hand in front of you and running your thumb over the inside of that finger like you would if there was a wedding band there. “Yeah, it turns out going on a book tour when your marriage is on the rocks isn’t the best way to handle things…”

“Shit,” he shook his head a little. “I’m sorry, Goldie, that…”

You scoffed.

“No you’re not,” you put your hand back in your lap. “You hated him. You said all of three words to Gale and you hated him…”

“OK first of all, his name was fucking Gale,” Joel cut you off. “And second of all, he was a fucking douchebag.”

You snorted into your beer, coughing and choking on it for a moment and Joel clapped you on the back as you held on to the table, trying to laugh and breathe at the same time.

“You alright there?” He asked, leaving his palm in the middle of your back.

“Fine,” you coughed, pounding your chest with your fist. “I’m fine, I just… It’s so funny, but Gale isn’t even his birth name.”

Joel gaped at you.

“You’re shitting me,” he said. “That asshole chose the name Gale?”

You nodded, still coughing and laughing.

“He did,” you said. “He did, he thought it made it sound him more authorial and academic, he changed it before he started teaching. His birth name is fucking Bradley - his mom still calls him Brad - and I only found out when filling out the marriage license.”

“What a fuckin’ dick,” Joel laughed, his hand still on you. He was touching you. He hadn’t touched you in so long and he was touching you. “Jesus Christ… Sorry if you’re still hung up on the guy but shit, you can do way better than that.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, calming down a bit and nodding to yourself. Joel watched you, uncertain. “Really, it is. I’m not going to pretend like I entirely agree with you but… things look different once you’re outside of the marriage and not in it anymore… Anyway. You married? Kids?”

“Not married,” Joel said, still not sure how he wanted to tell you about Sarah. If he even should, if the two of you were going to just go your separate ways after tonight and never speak again it felt wrong to share her. “Not even dating, really. At least, nothing steady…”

You laughed.

“Christ, why am I not surprised?” You teased. “You always had a way with the ladies. Haven’t outgrown that yet I take it?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Why outgrow what’s fun?”

You smiled a little back.

“Fair enough,” you said. “Don’t you want that, though? Something stable?”

“Is anything stable?” He asked. “Shit, half the people we went to school with now are fuckin’ divorced, what difference does it make?”

“Yeah, I guess I am one to talk,” you said, polishing off your beer.

Joel winced.

“Fuck, not what I meant…”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged. “I just… it didn’t work out and that’s that, right?”

“Right,” he said, watching you closely for a moment. “Hey, since you’re lookin’ to get hammered and I don’t got shit else to do tonight… shots?”

You laughed a little.

“I don’t know that I want to get that hammered,” you said. “I’m not a teenager anymore…”

“C’mon, Goldie,” he teased. “It’s on me. Plus it was my birthday the other day, gotta do at least one with me for that.”

“Oh shit,” you said. “It was, wasn’t it? You turned 33 on… Monday? Monday, right?”

“Right,” he laughed. “So, you in?”

You laughed a little back.

“Alright,” you said. “You’ve sold me. But I’ve got the first ones, it was your birthday, after all.”

The two of you moved to open bar stools on the end of the bar and ordered the first two shots - tequila - and clinked your glasses together before downing them, slamming them down on the bar top when you were done.

“See?” Joel teased. “You still got it in you.”

“If you say so,” you coughed a little and then laughed.

“Another?” He asked.

You looked at him for a moment.

“Fuck it,” you said and Joel flagged down Jimmy and ordered another round.

By the time it was last call, your friend had come over to say goodbye, her lipstick smudged around her lips and the mouth of the man she’d been draped across, and the bar had gotten quiet, just a handful of stragglers left even on a Friday night.

It took a few shots but you’d given up on keeping any distance from Joel at all, your bar stool sitting against his, your body pressed against his side, your head on his shoulder.

“Hey Jimmy!” Joel slapped the bar top a few times. The man came over and leaned on the bar, looking at you tucked against Joel. “Think you can get me a cab?”

“Sure as hell not lettin’ either of you two idiots drive,” he replied, going to get the phone.

“Hey,” Joel nudged you. “Where… where do you live? Need an address, gonna get you home.”

You thought for a second and then devolved into half drunk laughter.

“I don’t know,” your words were slurred. “Oh fuck, I’ve only lived there like… a few… a few… fuck. When did I move?”

“Before the school year?” He asked.

“Right,” you nodded. “Prob’ly right, that’s… that’s when. S’not long. I don’t know where it is, oh shit…”

“S’OK,” he said, putting an arm around you. “Just… just come home with me, s’fine.”

“Yeah?” You asked, raising your head slightly. “You… you don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind, Goldie,” he said gently. “Never mind, not with… not with you.”

You nodded and dropped your head back to his shoulder.

Joel had to half carry you to the cab and you dozed off against him on the drive, pressing your warm, soft body against his, passed out enough that you were drooling on the shoulder of Joel’s t-shirt, soaking through to his skin. He didn’t mind.

“She gonna be alright?” The cab driver asked as Joel paid him and nudged you awake.

“M’fine,” you waved him off.

“You know this guy?” The man asked, watching you in the rear view mirror.

“Him?” You asked, brows raised. “‘Course I know him, this… he’s Joel, he’s my best friend, s’fine.”

The driver nodded once.

“Good,” he said. “Take care of her, alright buddy?”

“Sure,” Joel said, setting you down in the back of the cab. “Always have.”

He got out and went around to the other door, almost tripping on the curb, before tugging you out of the backseat and against his side. You laughed and then shushed yourself.

“Sorry,” you tried to whisper but failed. “S’late, I should be quieter….”

“S’fine,” he slurred. “The neighbors think I’m trash anyway, not gonna ruin my reputation…”

You snorted at that.

“Assholes.”

He helped you up to the front door and fumbled with the lock, the two of you stumbling in. Julie, Sarah’s babysitter, shot up off the couch, a groggy look on her face.

“Wha?” She blinked for a second.

You yelped and Joel shushed you.

“Sorry,” you failed at whispering again. “But Joel… there’s a teenager in… you’ve got a teenager on your couch.”

“Yeah, she does that,” he tried to whisper back. “S’fine. How’d it go, Julie? Everything OK?”

“All good, Mr. Miller,” she stretched and got up, meeting Joel in the entry way. “She went down at 9:30 after trying to talk me into watching Coyote Ugly…”

“Oh lord,” Joel sighed. “Last thing she needs is to get it in her head that she should be singin’ and dancin’ on a bar…”

“Don’t worry, I said no,” she smiled. “But I think one of her friends at school is obsessed with it, not sure how else she’d know about it… Anyway. How about you pay me next week?”

“Oh shit,” he said, going for his wallet. She laughed.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Not sure you’d remember paying me right now and I’m even less sure you can count.”

“Thanks,” he said, grateful. “You drive safe, alright kiddo?”

“Will do,” she laughed a little. “Night, Mr. Miller. And Mr. Miller’s… friend.”

“Night!” You said, a little loud before clamping your hand over your mouth and laughing. Once the door was closed, you turned your attention back to him. “Ooooo you’re Mr. Miller now.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ old,” he said, guiding you inside. “Here, I’m gonna put you to bed and then I’ll take the couch…”

“You absolutely will not,” you snorted. “I’m… I can sleep on the couch, not… not letting you take the couch in your own house. ‘Specially not when you’re old enough to be Mr. Miller.”

“Goldie…”

“I will move and sleep on the floor.”

He sighed and started moving you toward the couch.

“You ever gonna be less stubborn?”

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the p as he set you down. He got the blanket Julie had been asleep under and draped it over you as you snuggled into the couch. “Hey Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Who was that girl?” You asked, eyes already closed. “Why… why did you have a teenager in your house? This is your house, right?”

“S’my house,” he said, tucking you in. “And don’t worry ‘bout it. Just go to sleep.”

You yawned.

“Thanks, Joel,” your voice was groggy. “For taking care of me. Missed you.”

He stopped and looked back at you for a moment.

“Missed you, too.”

He went to bed, trying not to think of the last time you’d fallen asleep on him.

***

The Morning After Prom

May, 2008

The pink and orange of dawn woke you up. You were on Joel’s chest, his shirt unbuttoned so you could feel his skin on yours and your dress was still bunched around your waist from when Joel had slid the straps down your arms the night before.

You enjoyed it for a moment. The feel of Joel’s skin, how his chest rose and fell with his breaths, how the early morning light caught in the curls that had broken free of the gel you were sure his mom had put in it the night before. He smelled good, like cologne - the kind that a man would wear, not the Axe shit that drenched the hallways of your school - and soap and a hint of sweat that just felt like the essence of him. You wanted to stay like this with him forever. Be this close, know him in this way. It felt right, it felt beyond just good.

And then you remembered, you weren’t supposed to be here.

“Joel,” you whispered, sitting up from him and shaking him gently but urgently. “Joel, wake up!”

“Hm?” He mumbled, groggy, his eyes opening slowly.

“We fell asleep,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one here to hear you. “We’re not supposed to be up here, we have to go!”

“Shit,” he blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked you over and you were suddenly fiercely aware of how naked you were, how the light of day was creeping in and casting over your exposed skin. Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out…”

“It’s OK,” you said quickly, clutching your dress over your naked breasts as you slid the straps back on. “But we should get home, we didn’t tell our moms that we were going to be out all night, I’m sure they’re pissed…”

“It’s prom,” he said. “Think they expected it to be a late one. But… you’re right, we should get going.”

Joel got up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. It wasn’t until you moved your lower half that you realized how sore you were between your thighs, your skirt falling back down to your feet. Joel held your hand for a moment once you were standing and his skin felt hot against yours. You dropped his hand and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You should button your shirt,” you said quietly, nodding to his bare chest. “And… um… Zip up your pants.”

“Oh,” he looked down. “Um… Right. Right.”

He moved quickly as you looked over as much of your dress as you could see and Joel used the glass of the press box as a mirror to adjust his hair.

“Do I look OK?” You asked when he was done, turning so he could see the whole dress. “Not like… not like we….”

“There’s… um…” he cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think we made a mess of the back of your dress, I didn’t think… should have moved it, I guess…”

“Shit,” you twisted, trying to spot it. “Do you think…”

“Just don’t turn your back to your mom,” he said quickly. “Should… should be OK.”

“Right,” you said. “Yeah, that’s… right. OK.”

Joel led the way to his car and the two of you sat in silence on the ride home. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his elbow propped on the door of the car, hand on his mouth, his face drawn.

What were you supposed to do now? You’d never done… this. You’d never been in this position and now you were here with Joel, the person who was your best friend, the person you knew better than anyone else in the world, the person that everything had felt so right with it had been impossible to stop.

But what did you do now?

He stopped in your drive way and sat there, staring straight ahead.

“Thank you,” you said. He looked at you, his eyes a little wide. “For taking me to prom, I mean. It was… I had… It was good. I liked it. It was good.”

“Yeah,” he nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I’m glad I… got to go with you. To prom.”

“Right.”

You looked at him. You wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to hold onto you and tell you that everything was going to be OK and that you were going to figure this out and it would be you and him together just like it always had been.

Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I’ve got church this morning,” he said. “And then we’re goin’ to help my grandma in the afternoon so I don’t think I can see you until tomorrow…”

“I’ve got that doctor’s appointment in the morning,” you said. “So… I guess I’ll just… I’ll see you at school?”

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, right. I’ll… I’ll see you at school.”

You smiled tightly at him and leaned in slowly to kiss him on the cheek, hoping that he would turn his head and press his lips to yours the way he had the night before.

He didn’t.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Yeah.”

You went inside and got undressed in your bathroom, looking at the stain on your dress, hoping you’d be able to get the stain of your blood and his come out before your mother noticed and it ruined anything else.

Next Chapter

A/N: Eeeeeeee! I'm so excited now that this story is properly going!

I hope you enjoy exploring Joel and Goldie with me. I really love their friendship and the way they care for each other and I think there's so much to explore with the both of them.

I do have an updates blog. Follow it here and subscribe for alerts when I post.

Thank you for being here! It really does mean so much to me to share this story with you. Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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jazzmasternot · 2 months

Text

What kind of liquor everyone at the hotel drinks

This is a continuation of @hazelfoureyes’s post abt what kind of drunk everyone is.

My credentials for this that I’m a bartender and work in both restaurants and nightlife so I’ve served all kinds of ppl and Ik what customers want before they even order.

Alastor

So we know this man likes rye and I stonefly believe that he would drink either uncle nearest or makers mark. I mean cmon have you seen the bottle for makers mark it even fits his aesthetic. And yes he will smoke a fat cigar with it too.

Lucifer

Yeah this man drinks wine and is real pretentious about it too, he just gives off mega wine drunk type energy. Like will try to tell you all about how this wine is special because you can taste the hints of sandal wood and how it has a appley after taste even tho no one cares. Also the kind of person to say “I’m just gonna have one glass” then boom the entire bottle is empty.

Angel dust

He drinks vodka you can’t tell me otherwise, he’ll drink tequila when he really wants to turn up but it’s mainly vodka. His favorite is a vodka Martini with little (none) vernouth, so just shaken vodka in a martini glass and yes he can tell if you didn’t shake it. His favorite is highway vodka yk the one that’s made with weed and gets you a lil high aswell.

Husk

Another whiskey drinker everyone, I mean he even says it in the show, straight from the bottle no less. It’s probably either jack Daniel’s or Hennessy doesn’t care much about the quality like Alastor does. No rocks glass no ice cube straight up room temp (yuck). Every once in a while he’ll drink jägermeister if he’s feeling particularly devious that night.

Charlie

Listen don’t ever give her straight liquor, bc she will drink it if ppl cheer her on enough and then immediately throw it up, so everyone’s learned their lesson with her. The closest she’d be able to do without dying instantly is the deep eddy Lemmon/grapefruit. Just give her a Bellini or a margarita, also I feel like she’d love lemon drops.

Vaggie

Beer drinker I don’t know why but she gives off a beer girly kinda vibe that makes husks job so much easier. I feel like she’d like the cream and amber ales too. She’d only drink it on draft though no cans or bottles she thinks it ruins the flavor (she’s not wrong) but most ppl don’t understand that. When she’s not drinking beer it’s vodka crans and seabreazes with Tito’s all they and it’s definitely not bc those are the only two cocktail names she knows.

Nifty

Straight tequila no mixer no chaser not even dressed or chilled, right down the hatch bc she likes it when the alcohol just burns on the way down. YAY PAIN! Fun fact tequila isn’t a depressant which is why you start actin crazy when you drink it, and we all saw how she was acting in episode 6 classic tequila drunk behavior.

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. v

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. -- In other words, Joel takes you on your first date. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.6k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY (it's happening, folks!) - unprotected sex, please dm if you want specifics but I’m not trying to spoil too much. If you don't want to read the smut, it doesn't happen until about halfway through the chapter. Crying after sex. Angst. FLUFF. Mentions of anxiety & self-doubt, alcohol consumption. a/n: Help! I can’t stop writing fit checks into this story!! This ended up being insanely horny but also shockingly sweet. I worked way way way too hard on it so please say nice things to me. Might need to take a couple days off because I'm really feeling burnt out. So please enjoy in the meantime.

-May 16, 2003-

Joel doesn’t like lying to Sarah.

Although, he’s not sure that he’s lying to her as much as he is simply….omitting information. Depending on who you ask, that could still be considered lying.

He’s fresh out of the shower when he steps into the living room, fishes through the catch-all basket located just inside the front door, and pockets his wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?”

Sarah’s lounging on the couch, on her back, one of her hands slung behind her head. There’s a book opened on her lap, but she’s not reading. “You’re all dressed up.”

Joel looks down at his green flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Truth be told, he’s a little ashamed he doesn’t have anything nicer in his closet. It’s not like he ever has any occasion to dress up, but he’s already feeling self-conscious and being (most likely) underdressed isn’t helping. Based on the very limited information he knows about your past relationships, you’re probably accustomed to crisp dress shirts, ties, blazers. He doesn’t own any of those things — he did, at one point, have the tux from his wedding, but he’d gotten rid of it after the divorce. Every time he saw it in the back of his closet, it made him sick. Regardless, tonight he’d done the best he could otherwise - showered, trimmed his beard, and even dug through his medicine cabinet for an old – probably expired – bottle of cologne. Hopefully it was enough.

“I’ve uh….I’ve got a date.” Joel says.

The theme song from That’s So Raven is blaring through the living room, but it immediately cuts out as Sarah presses mute and sits up entirely from her spot on the couch. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Joel says. “Your uncle is coming over, though, he’s gonna drop me off and then he said he’d take you to the movies.”

As if on cue, he hears Tommy’s truck pull into the drive. “Yes!” Sarah leaps up from the couch. “I have to change first.”

“Hurry up, babygirl, I’m already runnin’ behind,” Joel calls after her.

Tommy knocks twice on the front door before letting himself in anyways.

“You’re late,” Joel informs, shutting the door behind him. They should’ve left five minutes ago, and the last thing Joel wants is for you to think he’s not punctual. To be fair, he’s not, and almost never is. But you don’t need to know that….yet.

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy trails after him into the kitchen. Joel is tempted to chug a beer, or fish the half-empty bottle of whiskey he’s got in the cabinet out to take a shot — just to take the edge off. But he refrains. It wouldn’t be a good look to show up smelling of booze.

“So…who's the lucky lady?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, Tommy presses. “Come on, Joel, who is it?”

He contemplates telling his brother the truth, but he doesn’t want to give him the idea that he had taken his advice. He didn’t. Well maybe he did, but he knows Tommy will become insufferable if he finds out.

“Is it who I think it is?” Tommy asks. “It better be.”

Unfortunately, Tommy knows him too well. They’re brothers, and really, Joel’s first and oldest friend. The answer is written all over his face.

Tommy grins. “Fucking finally. Oh my god, dude, I thought you’d never-”

“Alright, alright!” Joel interjects, eyes darting nervously up the stairs, where he hears his daughter shuffling around in her bathroom. “Keep your mouth shut, I haven’t told Sarah yet.”

Tommy raises his hands in defense, but at least seems to understand how serious Joel is. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down at the countertop, and is compelled to be honest with his little brother. “I’m uh….I’m a little nervous, though. Been awhile since I’ve done anything like this.”

Tommy grows serious. “Do you want my advice?”

“Yours?” Joel feels like whatever advice he has to offer is likely questionable, particularly with someone like you. “No thanks. I’d rather make a good impression.”

His brother ignores the subtle dig. “You sure? Because unlike you, I actually go on dates. I mean, it’s been what, like….ten years?” He crosses his arms, pretends to think. It’s probably only been a couple of months since the last time Joel took someone out, and Tommy knows it, but he loves to dramatize. “I mean at this stage, you’re basically a born-again virgin. Do you even remember how to put on a condom?”

Joel crosses his arms and glares at his brother, who begins giggling at his bad joke. “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything to you,” he shakes his head.

“Oh come on Joel, you’ll be fine,” Tommy says. “Really. She’s into you. I could tell when we were all together the other night. Even when I was dancing with her, I kept catching her lookin’ your way…”

“Yeah, well….” Joel rubs the back of his neck to play off the surge of warmth he gets from this information. “Thanks.”

Sarah’s bathroom door opens, and he hears the staccato beat of her sneakers coming down the stairs. Joel points at Tommy one last time. “Not a word, understand?”

Tommy nods just as she rounds the corner.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah raises her hand to give him a high-five, which they both purposely miss so they can collide palms on the downswing, grab each other’s hands and then begin a secret handshake so complex that Joel, who has seen it a thousand times, still doesn’t think he could execute correctly if he tried.

“How’s my favorite niece?”

“I’m your only niece.”

“Touche,” they shoot at each other with finger guns before she wraps him in a hug and Tommy presses his nose to the top of her head. Despite the fact that their little routine is costing Joel precious time, almost all the annoyance he’d been feeling with his brother dissipates at the sight.

“We all ready?” Tommy asks her, then points at him. “Don’t want to make this casanova late.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Sarah looks over at Joel with a smile that doesn’t seem entirely sincere. When she was younger and he’d gone on dates, she always had a lot more questions. Who is it? What is she like? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? Over the years, however, she became less and less interested. It was because she was smart, and had caught onto the pattern - he’d go on a date, maybe one or two more, then there’d be a long period of nothing before the cycle repeated itself every couple months. It rarely developed into anything that would concern her, and Joel always kept the details to himself.

While they’re en route to the restaurant – a little French bistro that had opened up recently — Sarah and Tommy bicker about what movie they want to see.

“I wanna see Holes. I just read the book.”

Tommy grimaces. “What about Matrix Reloaded? It just came out.”

“I already told dad I’d go to that with him.”

“So?” he looks between Sarah and Joel. “Why can’t you just see it twice?”

“No,” Sarah says emphatically. “I have to see it with dad first. It’s not fair.”

Tommy groans, mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe you let her watch that crap,” as if he wasn’t about to do the same thing.

“She likes it,” Joel shrugs.

“All the more reason to see it tonight.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns.

“Fine.”

“I don’t really like it, though. I just like to keep dad company so he doesn’t have to see it alone.”

“You’re too nice,” Tommy takes a beat. “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“Shut up,” Joel and Sarah answer at the same time, and Joel holds his palm behind him for his daughter to slap.

Tommy acquiesces, his truck jolting as it pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Joel’s heart rate picks up immediately. The car rolls to a stop and Joel turns to look at both of them. “Alright, I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Sounds good,” says Sarah.

“Have fun,” Tommy raises his eyebrows, winks, and thankfully Sarah doesn’t see it, because she’s getting out of the truck to take Joel’s spot shotgun. He makes sure she’s settled with her seatbelt on before he shuts the door.

He isn’t trying to waste time, but Joel watches them pull out of the lot and back onto the street before he goes inside the restaurant. Really, he just needs a minute to collect himself. There’s no good reason for him to be as anxious as he is, he’s already kissed you once, and you had seemed to like it — quite a lot too. For the past week the feeling of your body pressed up against him, legs around his torso, was pretty much all he thought about when his mind wandered. Mostly at night before bed, and even today, in the shower when he was getting ready - just to try and calm down. Even now, the idea leaves him flustered.

Nevertheless, this probably isn’t even technically a first date. He hasn’t had issues speaking to you in the past, so this should be easy. Right? But what if you change your mind? And what if it dawns on you that he’s not your type? Even worse, what if you realize he’s just not good enough?

Joel forces himself inside before he talks himself out of this. When he enters, he sees you first. You’re across the room, leaning over the small bar where a few other patrons are. Greedily, he takes you in, and it’s easy to trace your figure in the tight black shift dress you’ve got on, sheer black tights underneath. It’s sleek, stylish - not that Joel knows much about that. As usual, you stand out in stark contrast to every other person in the place. He likes it. But he feels underdressed. He’ll look ridiculous standing next to you, and he briefly considers turning around, leaving, and saving himself the embarrassment.

That’s until you move, angling yourself towards him and scanning the restaurant, an elbow resting on the bar, a hand on your knee. You’re looking for him, waiting for him, and finally, you’re rewarded when your eyes catch. Suddenly, Joel doesn’t care about what he’s wearing. He doesn't care that he’s not good enough. At the very least, he doesn’t have to guess if you’re interested in him anymore, not with how you’re gazing at him — a soft smile and narrowed eyes that betray your enthusiasm. Sure, he's not good enough, but he decides if he’s going to go down in flames, he’ll do it trying to convince you otherwise.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe I should’ve eaten a proper lunch, you think to yourself. You’ve barely touched the drink in your hand, but you’re already starting to feel it. And even though you are the designated driver tonight, for now, the slight buzz is welcome, working to soothe.

Over the years, you’d been on your fair share of first dates. Unlike most…you don’t hate them. For whatever reason, getting to know new people had always come easy, particularly if they were the right person. Being a lawyer, you had a knack for talking yourself into or out of almost anything. So it was just as easy to let someone know if they weren’t the right person. The best part of first dates, however, was that they lacked all the things you hated — promises, expectations, and conversations that went deeper than general pleasantries.

So all things considered, you shouldn’t feel as tense as you do right now.

There’s a few factors that might have something to do with it, and your brain turns them over, biding your time until your date arrives.

First is the text that sits opened on your BlackBerry.

Dad’s home from the hospital. Doing better. Call when you can. - Vince

Your father has been in and out of the hospital for the last month or so, his health rapidly declining. But every update from your brother, however innocent they may be, feels like veiled threats. You should be here. You should know this. I shouldn't have to text you about it. I can’t believe I’m the only one looking after him. A part of you wants to believe that Vincent wouldn’t play that sort of game with you, but as you’ve gotten older and grown apart, you’d gotten worse at deciphering his motivations. Vaguely, you acknowledge that you could just be projecting, and you are the only one trying to make you feel bad.

And then there’s Joel.

He’s running late, you hope, or he’s stood you up. And you have already promised yourself that you’re only gonna wait ten more minutes before heading home with your tail tucked between your legs. The thought of that makes you regret agreeing to this in the first place. You’d already embarrassed yourself the last time you were together, practically begging him to take you on the kitchen countertop, but he’d insisted on doing this right. You should’ve pushed harder because you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe….a zipless fuck would’ve sufficed. Oh, who were you kidding? You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real.

He knows you better than most first dates do. You’ve told him more about your family, about your fucked up childhood, about your aversion to committed relationships more than any friend you’ve made since moving to Texas. And he listened. It should make you feel better. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he asked you here anyways. Maybe he’s having second thoughts.

For what feels like the thousandth time, you check your emails and take a sip of your dirty martini – your preferred vehicle for alcohol consumption. Ultimately, you like the idea of a martini more than the actual taste, but you appreciate how direct they are. You scan the restaurant one last time, doing your best to look casual, like you don’t really care. Like you’re supposed to be there alone.

But when your head turns towards the entrance, Joel is standing across from you.

He gives you a bashful smile, one that makes your stomach flip, and makes his way over – though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. It’s like he knows you’d sit and wait for him for as long as it takes – you would, you will, you are.

When he finally lands in front of you, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his dark-wash jeans, he leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek for the briefest moment, and pulls back, looking you up and down.

“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly. The term of endearment makes your ears feel hot. You're shocked at the effect he has on you, almost can’t believe it. It scares you, too, but you want to chase the feeling. “You look great.”

“So do you,” because you’re not one to lie. He does. As good as always, but he might’ve trimmed his beard for the occasion and maybe….put on cologne? It’s hard to tell, and in your brief experience being so close to him, he’s always smelled good regardless.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Can’t count on Tommy to get me anywhere on time.”

“It’s alright,” you say casually, like you hadn’t had your whole exit strategy planned out just minutes ago. “I got to have a drink while I wait. You want something?” you gesture towards the bartender.

“Sure,” Joel answers. “How about an old fashioned?” There’s no room for him to sit, so he leans next to you, arm on the bartop, invading your personal space while you wait for your table. Your skin buzzes like you’ve never been this close to a man before in your life. Pathetic.

He orders his drink before he speaks to you again. “Have you been here before?” he asks.

You shake your head no. “I was planning on coming a couple months ago but….never got around to it.”

“It’s good,” he says. “I’ve been a couple times.”

“Is this where you take all the girls you go out with?” you raise an eyebrow, grateful that your voice sounds even despite the way your blood is fizzing, your heart pumping so fast you can feel it in your ears.

Joel shakes his head no. “That’s down the street.”

“Oh?” you nod, sip your drink. Whatever buzz you’d been feeling is gone in the wake of adrenaline. “So….why didn’t you take me there, then?”

“It’s not as nice,” Joel smirks, leaning in a little closer – if it were possible. His lips are practically touching your ear, and his voice is raspy for what comes next. “And I’m trying to impress you.”

“Right,” you can’t help but smile, pulling back so you can lock eyes. He’s so sincere you can’t even think up a clever quip in return. “How thoughtful.”

He gives you a cheeky grin. You want to touch him, want to hold him, want to fist the front of his shirt or tug on the hair at the back of his neck and stick your tongue down his throat like you aren’t surrounded by an entire restaurant of patrons.

It’s going to be the longest fucking dinner of your life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You survive.

But at a cost.

And you don’t learn anything new about Joel, except for the fact that your memory hasn’t exaggerated how charming he is, how charismatic, how thoughtful. All the times you’d allowed yourself to daydream about him didn’t hold a candle. Enjoying the meal is difficult, because you just want to get him alone. He can sense it – you’re pretty sure, because he orders himself a coffee after dessert, and sips on it ever-so-slowly, smirking at you over the rim of the mug.

When dinner’s over, you offer to drive Joel home, since he’d gotten a ride here. By this point, the martini is long gone from your system and you sort of want to pour yourself another when you get home. Even if you don’t drink much, the nerves have resurfaced.

He walks a few paces behind you as you leave the restaurant, taking his time, and you step to your side of the car, making to unlock it – until something grabs your bicep – briskly – and spins you around.

It’s Joel. He snuck up behind you, you hadn’t heard, and he’s right in front of you now, pinning you between the car and his body, surrounding you entirely. He lifts a hand, cups your cheek, and kisses you. It happens so fast you let out a whimper of surprise – directly into his mouth, but he swallows it down, and cradles you so gently, but still firm. Resolute. I’m not letting you go.

When he pulls back, you notice his cheeks are flushed, ever so slightly. It makes you wonder what you could do to see them get even redder. Your arms have found their way to rest on his shoulders, and you’re boxed in, the handle to your car door digging into your ass. Without a word, just a cheeky grin, he retreats to the passenger's side of the car and gets inside.

You settle in the driver's seat beside him, and he looks over at you. “Hope that was okay, I couldn’t wait…” he says, almost apologetically. “But I was tryin’ all night to be good.”

“Yeah, well….not much use in that anymore,” you tilt your head. “Do you want to….hang out at my place?”

“Yeah, we can ‘hang out’ at your place,” Joel quips.

Scoffing in mock offense, you offer a retort. “What would you rather me have said? Come over for a nightcap? That’s a little cliche.”

He grimaces, as if he’s in agreement. You continue. “Or would you rather I be more direct? Joel, why don’t you come over so we can have sex?”

That makes him laugh, loudly, and it’s such a warm, comforting sound, you wish you could find a way to capture it and hear it over and over again. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?” he asks.

“Guess we’ll find out,” You shrug, trying to play it off, in case you overstepped. Then you focus on putting the keys in the ignition without fumbling.

It’s not a long drive back to your place, but Joel seems determined to make sure it feels like it is. Either that, or he’s trying to get you to cause an accident. First his hand is resting on the back of your neck, brushing through the hair at the base of your skull. Then it’s on your shoulder, his thumb pressing into your taut muscles. You actually have to bite your tongue so you don’t moan. It’s not even sexual, really, but it just feels good to be touched, especially by him.

Eventually, you hit a stoplight, and while you’re waiting, his hand continues to wander…and comes to rest just above your knee. His hands are fucking huge, first of all, which maybe you’ve noticed before, and there are a few scars and scratches on the backs of his knuckles. It's the weight of it, the warmth of it, the way he’s settled it so casually like it’s nothing – like it belongs there, and he doesn’t even have to ask. Of course he doesn’t. And the confidence, the cockiness. It feels like someone’s taken an arrow to the pit of your stomach, and something thick and hot starts curling down, down, down….

You swallow hard, and he’s looking at you. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares, something dark and unfamiliar in his eyes.

“I hope I’m doing alright,” voice raspy, low, but still smooth as ever.

Shaking your head, you’re able to surface just enough over the haze of arousal. “You want a performance review?” you tease, giving a small smile. “We should hold off on that until later…”

That makes Joel laugh again, your stomach flips, and his thumb begins to stroke your kneecap, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh, inching forward to clasp farther inward, nearly grabbing at you, squeezing. The only thing separating his skin from your own is a thin pair of stockings that end dangerously close to where his hand is working. If he finds out that he’s just a few centimeters away from meeting bare skin, you’re afraid of what could happen.

“Joel,” you warn.

“What?” he asks, voice light and innocent.

“You’re distracting me.”

“You want me to stop?”

No. The light turns green, and you have to hold back the impulse to break every traffic law if it means you’ll get to have him just a second sooner.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“--my room is–” Joel cuts you off with another searing kiss, and it takes a second before you can conjure the self control to pull away again to finish the thought. “--down the hall.”

“Yeah?”

He’s got you crowded back against the entry closet of your house, hovering over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head, and the other slowly dragging down your body, his lips following….moving down your neck.

“Uh-huh,” you barely can get it out between strangled gasps for air.

And then he’s hooking his hands behind your knees. “Are you sure you don’t want, like-” Joel lifts you, and you lock your legs around his torso. “An amaretto or something?”

“No,” he’s gripping on to you so tightly it hurts, but you don’t mind.

“I could put on….a record-”

“No,” he repeats, and you’re being carried down the hall.

You hadn’t expected him to pounce on you the instant that you came in through the garage door. Not that you minded. It’s just that usually you’d play it a bit more coy. You’d set the mood, light a candle, have a chat. But, you suppose you don’t need to do anything to get you in the mood. You’re already there.

Joel’s mouth never separates from you, not until you’re in your room. He’s so sure of himself, you think he might be the type to throw you into the mattress, climb on top of you and rip at the zipper on the back of your dress. But he doesn’t. You’re laid down delicately, like you’re made of glass, and he’s being careful not to break you.

He weaves his thumb and forefinger around both your wrists, then pulls them up so they’re pinned above your head. This way, you’re completely at his mercy. When he lowers himself between your legs, and you feel the weight of his body pressed against you, you groan, fighting against the restraint, desperate to touch him. So you do the best you can and wrap your stocking-clad feet around his waist, trying to get some leverage, to bring him closer.

“Just wanna take my time with you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, like he can read your mind. You’re starting to think he can – how else can he be so irresistible on his own accord?

Joel makes good on his promise. With you all docile beneath him, he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of exposed skin available – even though you’re still fully clothed. Each press of his lips has you breathing unevenly – sighing, then gasping, then sharp, short inhales. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but giggle and quirm.

Joel huffs in response, releasing you from his hold, and he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I like hearing that? Knowing it’s because of me?” Immediately, you lower your hands to cup his cheeks, to regard him. He can’t be serious.

“You’re too sweet,” you mutter.

“So are you,” he answers, and ducks his head to return to your neck. “So sweet, and so fucking pretty, too…” His hands begin wandering, one of them cupping your breast, thumb finding a peaked nipple even through the fabric of your dress and your bra. The words he’s saying are too much, you’ll do anything to make him shut up, arching your back so you can feel him – already hard – against your clothed core.

“Joel-”

“God, I want to see you-fuck!” he pulls back, rolls you over, and you shift your weight so he has access to the dress’ zipper at your side. He makes quick work of it, and brings you to a seated position, helping you remove it all the way before kissing you again, then abruptly stopping. He wants you so badly….but he’s trying to savor the moment. “Let me look at you for a second.”

He takes you in, the stockings you’re wearing and the matching set of black lace you’d picked out beforehand. Of course, you’d thought about this. You always did for occasions like this, but Joel had stumped you. What would he like? This….was pretty understated, but he seemed like a salt-of-the earth guy. Not what you were used to. It probably wouldn’t make a difference whether or not you were in full-on lingerie. And even if you knew he wouldn’t care, you still had wanted to impress him. All the more reason to try.

“This for me?” he asks, hooking his finger on the inside of your stockings and snapping the elastic.

“Yeah,” you nod, honest. “I want you, Joel.” And there’s more to it, too. You’ve thought about just how badly for months. It kept you up at night, then helped you fall asleep when you couldn’t shake his image from your head. For now, you are going to keep that to yourself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not gonna slip out. Not when he’s looking at you like this.

“Yeah?” he says, steps forward, towers over you. “I want you, too, so fuckin’ bad. So fucking pretty, baby,” Dropping back to your elbows, you feel…small. Any other time, you might sit up, try to feel some kind of control, but for whatever reason, you stay where you are.

Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said he wanted to take his time. It’s frustrating. It’s torture. He worships you, makes sure his mouth is on nearly every part of your body before he finishes undressing you. Your ankles hook over his shoulders, his hands grazing, dragging thin nylon up and off each leg. He kisses your calves, the inside of your knees, your thighs. He uses one hand to unhook your bra and pulls it away. He spends what feels like hours with his mouth on your breasts – sucking, licking, nipping – hands cupping, grabbing, pinning you down. The whole time, he’s telling you how badly he wants you, how pretty you are, how good you’re being for him. He’s either touching you too much, or maybe not enough. It’s hard to say. Only after he’s reduced you to an incoherent, whimpering mess do you somehow find the strength to fight back.

By this point, you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your leg hooked over his hip, the waistband of his jeans digging into bare skin. He’s still got all his fucking clothes on, which makes everything so much worse, because it’s clear whose in control here, and it’s certainly not you.

The button of his flannel is where you start, and then you work downward. Joel doesn’t stop you at any point. You think he might, just because of how things have been going. But he’s as easy as you are, and you take him in all the same after you’ve shucked off his jeans, and he’s closer to your state of buff.

To be fair, you’ve spent enough time lingering by the windows – when he’s outside mowing the lawn shirtless, or picking up his newspaper in the morning, or doing workouts in his garage with the door open (such a tease!) – to have an idea of what to expect. He’s not ripped by any means but neither are you – and you’ve never liked that anyways. But it’s not hard to ascertain that he spends all day in the sun, lifting and hauling things around. His muscles are defined, rippling lightly under his skin with each panting breath he takes. Joel’s a spectacle – broad and tan, a line of dark hair dipping from his belly-button down into the waistband of his dark-gray briefs. You can make out the way his cock is straining against the fabric.

Once you’ve appraised him as best as you can – you can see that he’s studying you, almost like he’s anxious, like you might not like what you see. As if he doesn’t know. Ridiculous. You aren’t going to leave him guessing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Joel,” you shake your head. “You’re a fucking stud.”

Joel’s face breaks out in a grin and he yanks you back so you’re on top of him, legs on either side of his chest. And finally, finally, you can touch him like you’ve been wanting. His skin is warm – it’s kind of hot in your room, you’d forgotten to turn on the A/C, so you’re both a little sweaty. But and it’s unclear if it’s because of the heat or just how worked up you are. It doesn’t matter, because it only turns you on even more. You trace the broad plane of his chest, hand snaking down…all the way to his boxers, but he stops you.

He’d let you undress him, allowed it, but this…it crosses a line. Joel hooks his hands behind your thighs and begins to drag you up, up, up, while he shifts lower. It takes a second to register what he’s doing, and when it does, you try to stop it.

“Joel, wait I-”

“I have to taste you darlin’, that okay?” His dark hair is fanned out around his head, resting on your floral pillowcase. In the dim light, his pupils are so blown out you can barely see anything else except black. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but you’ve gotta let me taste you first.”

It’s not that you don’t want it, but he’s taken you off guard, and you’re already overwhelmed by how intimate all this has been, gentle and languid while he whispers honeyed words into your ear. His mind seems already made up, and you don’t really want to tell him no.

“Alright,” you manage, and you grip the top of the headboard.

It’s embarrassing how wet you already are. It started with his hand on your knee in the car, and you have spent the last hour clenching around nothing, squeezing your legs together and searching for friction. Anything. Well, you are about to get it.

Joel’s lips press to the insides of your thighs, once more, dangerously close to where you’re weeping for him. His nose bumps your clit when he turns his head, and you whine – hips sinking to seek the contact that he’s been denying you, and then immediately pulling back in a moment of clarity.

“No, no,” Joel’s hands immediately land on your hips to hold you in place, bringing you lower. “Stay right there for me.”

You don’t dare move.

Finally, his mouth finds you. You think he might tease for a little bit, go slow, because he’s been doing that all night, and it’s become infuriating. But he doesn’t. He eats you out, laves at you. A hot, velvet tongue that works up a steady rhythm. It’s interrupted only by the vibration of his moans every so often, which only add to the pleasure. For a moment, you miss how he’d been talking to you before, but you’re so sensitive, so eager, that you think you’ll sacrifice anything if it means he’s not going to stop. Joel keeps you still with a bruising grip on your hips. All you can do is let him have his way and whimper his name over and over, listen to him groan in response.

Being consistent is key for you. And Joel is nothing but. Practiced, but feral….like he’s been holding back all night. It’s been a long time, or maybe he’s just that excited, it’s hard to tell. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Can’t bring yourself to care about much more than him, the man below you working you over with just his mouth.

“I’m…Joel, I’m-” you try to pull off again, it’s too much, but he doesn’t allow it. Even if the position he’s in is compromising, he’s managed to find a way to assert himself. The coil inside you has wound so tightly that almost every muscle in your body is tense. Now, can’t even move, not even if you wanted to, and he keeps going, your words have only made him more determined.

The coil snaps. You cry out, using the headboard to stifle your noises – not worried that it will probably leave a mark. If you get nothing else from Joel, then at least it will serve as a reminder that he was here, beneath you, lapping up everything you have to give him. The orgasm leaves you weak, trembling, but he holds you up, works you through it until the waves begin to cease, and then you’re so overstimulated, so sensitive that you start to feel lightheaded. “Fuck, Joel, I can’t-” You tug on his hair, hope he’ll get the hint and release you, but he doesn’t. If anything, it only spurs him on.

His mouth is white hot on you, his tongue damp, firm as it circles your clit and drags downward. He gives you nowhere to go, no opportunity to come down from the high, so within minutes, or seconds – at this point, you’ve lost track of time – he’s worked you up to the precipice of release, and you’re coming again, crying out to him.

At last, he eases off, lets you relax. You do, carefully, and so does he, gradually removing his mouth from you while your hand untangles from his dark curls. Joel holds you steady as he sits back against the headboard, keeping you splayed across his lap. You don’t waste your time saying something stupid like “you didn’t have to do that,” because you’re not gonna pretend you didn’t love every second, but mostly because you’re not sure you’re capable of speaking just yet. His hand catches your jaw, and he looks at you – innocently, like he hadn’t just done what he had done, like his fucking beard, and chin, and lips weren’t still wet with you. But the ornery glint in his eyes gives him away. “You liked that?” he has the audacity to ask.

A shaky hand comes to pinch your eyebrows as you let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah, Joel….yeah.”

“Good,” he answers.

“I was right about you,” you manage.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and his hand skates up your arm, the other settling on your waist. It’s grounding, reassuring as your heart attempts to steady its beating.

“You’re trouble.”

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, and he leans in close. “Only for you, pretty girl.”

Your hips jolt back at the term of endearment, so much so that you feel the length of his cock, hard against your ass. It’s your turn to take care of him, but it shouldn’t be difficult, because your arousal is already building again. It’ll be much, much, easier to come again, specifically around him. Plus, right now, you are willing to do just about anything for him. You kiss him, and it’s sloppy, lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Heat curls again in the pit of your stomach, and you grind yourself down on him through his underwear.

Joel’s head falls back, bonks the headboard, and the thud of impact is overshadowed by his agonized moan. You reach down between your bodies, let your touch land over his clothed cock. He pants out your name. So many things you could do – with only your hand, or your mouth, but before you can decide, he speaks again.

“Wanna be inside you,” he grits out. “So fucking bad.”

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, no. I need you.”

“You can have me,” you nod, leaning forward to kiss his neck, pushing down the elastic of his underwear. Joel lets you, his hips stuttering, until he freezes. “Shit.” He reaches out to halt your movements.

You look up, his eyes are wide. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I uh, I left my wallet in the car,” Joel’s voice is pinched, palms leaving your body to press against his eyes, frustrated. “I brought condoms, but they’re - I’ll have to go get them.”

“I have some,” you pipe up, nodding towards your bedside table. Joel reaches for it, but it's your turn to stop him. “But I mean, I’m clean,” you say. “...And I have an IUD, so…”

Joel pauses, stares at you under thick lashes. “You sure that…” So tentative. “....That’s okay with you?”

You feel yourself smirk a little as you look at him. It’s not something you’d allow anyone to do. But you’re feeling a little lost in the moment. The part of your brain that usually tells you to run for the hills whenever things get too real has turned off. It’s not the first time he’s caused that, and you sort of enjoy the delusion. There’s no question. It’s Joel. “Oh, yeah.”

The words ignite something in him that you weren’t entirely prepared for, and he’s pulling you hard against his mouth with one hand, while the other pushes his briefs down the rest of the way. You don’t get the chance to see him, to feel him, before he’s lining himself up with your slick cunt.

It’s a soft glide of sensitive skin across sensitive skin, and you shake with anticipation. You don’t even know you have your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, until you hear Joel’s voice.

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Please just-” he swallows hard. “I wanna watch you. So fucking pretty.”

You obey, and he guides your hand to replace your own. It’s not until your hand wraps around him that you’re aware of just how thick his cock is, throbbing and leaking, and it makes you all the more eager. Slowly, you start to sink down, but it’s too challenging to take him all at once. So first, just the tip, you roll back to ease the sting, then gradually sink lower and low.

Joel moves closer to you, holding his breath, guiding you along, propped back against the pillows. “That’s it, so fucking good, baby…”

You understand why he was moving so languidly earlier. This is meant to be enjoyed. After some time, and lots of praise, your hips settle flush with his own, and he’s seated fully inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that your body isn’t fully ready to accommodate, but it has your toes curling and mouth hanging open, bearing down on him involuntarily. Under Joel’s watchful gaze you feel terribly, terribly exposed.

“Keep going,” Joel encourages. So you move. It’s experimental at first, small ruts against him, getting used to the way it feels. It doesn’t take you long to find the spot that makes you abandon eye contact, throw your head back, and –

“Oh, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he sounds strained, pinched – he’s holding back, but still enjoying every second. “That feel good?”

You nod furiously. He lets you find a rhythm that works for you, lets you take your time, and once you do, he starts to match your pace. His hands don’t stay in one place for very long. First, they’re resting gently on your ass. Then they’re cupping your tits, watching them bounce as they sway with your movements. He brings his knees up behind you, pressing his feet into the bed, and uses the leverage to fuck himself deeper each time you lower yourself onto him.

At this point, you’re unaware of what types of noises you must be making, and you’re thankful that you’re alone so you can be as loud as you want. His cock is hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed, and rolling across the same spot over and over and over.

“You feel so perfect for me,” Joel says, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling. “So, so good, baby, so fucking pretty.”

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can answer, nodding furiously and feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with every thrust.

You’re too easy for him. And you were too worked up to begin with. “Joel, I can’t-”

He slams his hips up into yours so hard you cut yourself off with a choked gasp. Then he does it again. “You gonna come for me?” he asks. “I can feel you, baby, I know it’s close.”

“Y-yeah,” he’s got you stammering on your words. You’re clamping down onto him so tightly it hurts. But you’re so desperate to come, to feel what it’ll do to him, that you don’t stop.

“Come here,” he murmurs, hands around your waist, pulling you down so your lips are nearly touching. “Stay close to me.”

“Oh, fuck, oh-” The warmth of his body so close to yours, your hands bracing themselves on his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, all coupled with one vicious rut of his hips has you right there. Joel tilts your head back just enough so you’re forced to look directly at him – and then you come undone.

You want to close your eyes, turn your head, but you’ve got nowhere to go, and he’s right in front of you. Joel’s touch slides up your back, draws you even closer, and you ride out your third orgasm of the night while pressed entirely against his chest, forced to be vulnerable in a way you’ve never been with anyone before. “So good, baby, so good. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me,” he praises you through it, works you through it, until you’re all but melted in his arms, and he still hasn’t pulled his eyes away.

Utterly spent, you know, distantly, somewhere, that he has to come. However, Joel takes over, flips you both so you’re underneath him, and presses himself deep into the cradle of your pelvis. He’s heavy on top of you, but the weight is somehow soothing.

“I thought about you,” you murmur, hoping it’ll help. His jaw is set, solely focused on his own release. “How good you’d feel.”

“Fuck, really?” he grunts. “I-I- did too.”

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling flush at the admission. “I thought about….letting y-you use me.”

Joel groans your name, curses loudly, ruts into you even harder. You can feel him throbbing, so fucking close, and you arch yourself up to meet him, pleasure already building again, even though you thought it wasn’t possible.

“It’s so much better, Joel, you’re so much better–”

Than I imagined. But you don’t have to finish the thought. The idea of you, thinking of him, seems to be enough as it is, and you feel him pulsing, warmth blooming and spreading out as he groans, throws his head back and spills himself impossibly deep inside you. If you weren’t utterly spent, the feeling of him coming – and nothing between you, probably would have set you off again. For now, it’s enough.

His whole body goes limp as he relaxes his arms from where they’re braced on either side of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a few, haggard breaths once it’s over, and then a deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. “Fuck, baby.”

You rub his shoulder lightly to soothe him, and his lips find the underside of your jaw, kissing lightly his beard scratching your cheeks. For an undetermined amount of time, he remains there. Normally, you’d probably check his watch, but you’ve noticed that the one he always wears is broken, and really….you feel content.

Finally, Joel pulls away, cursing under his breath and withdrawing from you. He runs his hand through his hair, and flops on his back by your side, and you feel horribly empty. After he’s cupped your cheek, turning you gently to look at him – he gives you a tender, affectionate smile.

It hits you like a freight train.

He was not the type of man you dated. The men you dated liked to slap, choke, withhold. That had always been what you’d gotten off to. The more frenzied, the more impersonal – the better. That wasn’t to say Joel hadn’t been passionate. But you’d never experienced anything like this before.

You tear away from his gaze, focus on the ceiling. Heart pounding, threatening to break through your ribs, you feel your mouth dry up, your eyes burn and fuck – you’re about to cry. Try to turn yourself away from him, but he sees it.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just uh-” your voice catches on the lump forming in the back of your throat and cracks audibly, raw.

“Hey– ” you hear the mattress shift, he’s moving closer, and you start to scramble. You’ve gotta leave. Get to the bathroom, compose yourself. “Where are you goin?”

“Joel, I just need to-” but his hand circles your wrist, and you don’t have the power to resist him. The bones of his hand press firmly in your cheek, turning your head so you have to look at him. There are tears in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Up close you can see that his eyes aren’t brown – they’re hazel. Mesmerizing, long lashes – gold and green rimming his irises. How had you not noticed that before?

“No, no not at all it was just…” you’re talking so fast, not even sure where you’re going with the sentence. “I’m sorry, I liked it I just-I don’t know,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you cover your face. You don’t want to feel this way with him here. “I’m not used to-”

Joel, who has never seen you at a loss for words, frowns, draws you against him. “Come here.”

“It’s okay,” he lets you press your face just below his jaw. He’s being so soft, it makes everything that much worse. Tears slip down your cheeks, landing on his skin. He strokes your hair, holds you so tightly, firmly, "It was intense, huh?”

You want to resent the way he’s speaking to you – like you’re a child who fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and not a grown ass woman realizing how disconnected she’s felt with every other partner until now. But unfortunately, it’s kind of working. You murmur an affirmation in response. ”I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he promises.

He holds you until the tide of emotion swells, settles, lips against your temple, his fingertips tracing up and down your spine, and gives you the time to compose yourself.

“That was really nice, I promise,” you say, eventually. And then, because he’s been so gracious, you’re honest. “It’s just been…a long time…” Forever, really. “Since I felt…”

“I know,” Joel nods. “Me too. It’s alright.”

“Yeah,” you bob your head. He holds your face reverently, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss before tucking you back against his chest. You close your eyes, nestle against him. He strokes your hair while you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake. Somehow, you’d fallen asleep.

“Hey, baby,” Joel murmurs softly.

“Mmm?” you groan in response, exhaustion clinging to your limbs.

“I’m sorry, I gotta get going.”

You scoff into his neck and make a noise of protest, still not entirely roused, he’d woken you too delicately. When he speaks, his lips brush against your forehead, hands still tracing up and down the lines of your body and making you shiver. “I told Sarah and Tommy I’d be home by midnight.”

“Right,” you mutter, finding the strength to push yourself off of him and stretch. Joel sits up, very tentatively releasing you from his grip.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, I can see myself out.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “No, please. Do you need anything?”

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” you point towards the ensuite.

Joel collects his discarded clothes off the bed, then the floor, and disappears. You hear the sink running, watch the shuffling shadows he casts in the crack below the door. While he’s doing that, you slip into your robe and run your fingers through your hair, taking in the disheveled state of your bed, before deciding to clean up in the extra bathroom down the hall.

On your way back, you run into Joel, who looks better than ever, tanned skin glowing, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

“This was nice. I had a really good time.”

“Me too.”

“Will you…” he trails off, rubs his jaw. “Will you be okay? I don’t want to-”

“I’m fine,” you say, dismissively. “I just had a moment.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Joel studies you carefully, and you’re prompted to continue. “I promise. Joel. This was nice.”

“It was,” he grins. “I’d like to see you again.”

“Me too,” you don’t even think before you answer, despite everything. It surprises you, how willing you suddenly are.

“Good.” He kisses you, slow and lingering. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Okay.”

part vi

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hussyknee · 1 year

Text

Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition Henry PoV bonus chapter by Casey Mcquiston.

(transcribed from the page pictures posted)

This is the coda to the end of the book, so don't read it if you haven't read the book first. Sadly, the Collector's Edition doesn't seem to be available on Kindle so. Arrrr matey.

Download link for file at the end.

....

HENRY

“I am not asking you to believe in it, or even to like it,” Henry says stonily. It’s been a long morning already. He is beginning to perspire. “I am simply asking you to show a modicum of respect.”

“To–to your quiche?”

“Yes. To my quiche.”

Bea puts down her tape gun and wipes her eyes. “Pez!”

“Yes?”

“Henry says he’s going to make us a quiche!”

Pez’s squawk of a laugh bounces down the stairs. “Pull the other one!”

“I make them all the time for Alex,” Henry insists. “They are perfectly edible.”

“So, when you promised us breakfast if we got up early to help you.” Bea says, “you meant that you were going to make us breakfast?”

“Yes!” Henry says hotly. “Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry!” Bea says. “It’s only that...well, Henry, the last time you cooked breakfast for me, you were twelve and you put a sausage in the microwave until it exploded.”

“That was your idea! And it’s been ages since then! I’ve studied, all right? I’m quite good now. Those pictures I send the group chat aren’t just for show.”

“Oh, aren’t they?” Bea says rudely, as if his incredibly generous offer to cook her a shallot-and-thyme quiche with mushrooms from the farmer’s market means nothing at all. As if he’s lived in this house for five entire years without learning to use its kitchen.

Perhaps if their lives weren’t so chaotic, if Henry weren’t flying out of New York every time Bea had a spare moment to fly in, he could have proven this to her earlier. But Pez, who lives mostly in the city now and visits so frequently he’s earned his own Secret Service code name (Cardinal, since Henry is Bishop), should know better.

“Percy Okonjo,” Henry says as Pez joins them, “you were here last weekend when I made mince pie. You loved it.”

“Did I?” Pez wonders aloud, with an annoyingly Bea-like lilt.

“Look at this apron!” Henry gestures to himself and the navy blue apron he’s wearing. Alex gave it to him for his birthday last year. “Would a man who can’t make a quiche have an apron like this? It’s monogrammed.”

“You’re royalty, babes,” Pez points out. “Everything you own is monogrammed.”

From the pocket of his serious-home-cook apron, his phone buzzes. Reinforcements. The FaceTime connects, and Alex says, “Good morning, love of my li–”

“Alex,” Henry interrupts, “tell them about my quiches.”

Alex pushes up his sunglasses and frowns into the camera. He looks so lovely with his faded T-shirt and jean jacket and shaggy hair. Pure American heartthrob, might as well have a cowboy hat on. Henry never does tire of it.

“Sorry?”

“Bea and Pez don’t believe I can make a quiche.”

“What? Have they seen your apron?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Henry’s quiches are great!” Alex says loudly, to the kitchen at large. “I almost never find shells in them!”

That sets Bea and Pez off again. On the screen, Alex’s face crinkles into laughter.

“Thank you very much, Alex, you’ve been a tremendous help,” Henry groans. “How are things? Florist this morning, wasn’t it?”

“Just finishing up.” Alex says with a grin. “Final approvals done. Everything looks great.”

With only one week until moving day and two until the wedding, it made sense to divide and conquer. Henry agreed to stay in New York and finish packing up the brownstone with help from Bea and Pez, while Alex, June, and Nora are ticking off the last of their checklists in Texas.

“Of all the surprises that wedding planning has brought us,” Henry says, “your ability to micromanage floral arrangements has certainly been...one of them.”

“You know I love to curate a vibe,” Alex says.

“That you do,” Henry agrees. “Where are the girls?”

“Getting donuts,” Pez answers before Alex can. He holds up his phone, open to a photo of June blowing a kiss while Nora fellates an éclair.

“Donuts!” Bea says. “Now there’s an idea!”

They spend the rest of the day drowning in cardboard boxes and bin liners, packing everything but the furniture and the downstairs television. Pez reminds him once an hour that they could pay someone to do this, but Bea is stubborn, and Henry is reluctant to let anyone else wade into all the intimate trappings of his and Alex’s life. It was bad enough explaining the contents of the trick drawer in their dresser to Pez, much less some mover he’s never met.

When it’s done, Bea puts A Knight’s Tale on in the living room and promptly falls asleep on Pez’s lap. Pez passes out too, but Henry stays awake, because Heath Ledger deserves an audience. And because he knows if he doesn't wake Bea and move her to the guest bedroom, he'll have to hear about her back spasms in the morning.

David hops up beside him on the loveseat, and Henry strokes the top of his snout until his little body relaxes into Henry's side.

"Nervous old boy," Henry hums. It still does seem like the ultimate irony that the dog he adopted for emotional support has anxiety. David has grown more and more worried all week, as more and more of his home disappeared into boxes. "We won't leave you, I promise."

The brownstone has been a good house for them. Sturdy brick walls, neighbors that actually let them be. Henry has loved it more than he ever loved Kensington, or at least as much as he loved Kensington when his parents both lived there too. Some mornings, when he comes downstairs to find Alex with the coffeepot and the kettle already on, he feels the way he did when his family all slept under one roof. This roof is quite a bit smaller than that one, but the feeling isn't.

So, perhaps David hasn't got entirely the wrong idea. It is hard to let the place go. For the past month, Alex has kept asking Henry why he's staring, and the truth is that he's been committing to memory exactly how Alex looks in every room. How the bannister fits in his hand, the place on the foyer wall where he always braces himself to pull on his shoes.

Everything that's happened in the past five years has happened, at least in part, inside this house.

…

It's seven months after Alex's mother's second inauguration, and Henry is wishing he had never even heard the word "credenza." Then he wouldn't have to decide where to put one. Alex is arriving in half an hour to help him move it, but Henry still doesn't know where. Across from the fireplace, perhaps? But what if he wants to put a sofa there? Does he want a regular sofa, or a sectional? Should it go upstairs, in his study? Or should he leave room for bookcases?

He longs to be back on a beach, sipping something from a pineapple.

It’s been a long, glorious summer since Alex packed up his White House bedroom, called Henry, and asked, "Do you want to get the fuck off the continent?" They did Dubai first, then Lagos. Rio, for old time's sake. Buenos Aires, paper lanterns in moonlight and Alex flirting with the bartender for free drinks. June through August became a lovely blur: Alex asleep against his shoulder on the plane, Alex throwing his Portuguese phrase book out the window of a speeding car, sand in unmentionable places, Alex Alex Alex. Endless runways and half-arsed disguises, swimsuits that got smaller and smaller until they simply didn't wear them anymore. Falling in love, the sequel, with fresh suntans and all the time in the world.

And now here they are in Park Slope, where Alex is renting the second floor of a brownstone two blocks from Henry's.

It's practical, they agreed, to live in the same neighborhood before they live at the same address. They've scarcely gotten a chance to date the normal way yet– if it can be called "normal" when their combined security teams are headquartered in an empty apartment down the street. Still, Henry wants this to last.

They've sprinted headlong into everything so far, but now he wants move slowly, in delicious increments. He wants to savor nights, minutes, firsts, to covet them and then let them dissolve on his tongue, like the sugar cubes he snuck off his gran's filigreed tea trays when he was small. He wants a life.

He wants someone to tell him where to put this damned credenza.

It's a vintage Broyhill Brasilia piece, walnut with clever brass drawer pulls. June helped him pick it out when she was in town with meeting her editor, but she never gave him any advice on where it should go. He hasn't ever been allowed to decide where furniture should go before.

So, it’s...there, in the center of the empty living room, the first piece in the entire house.

“Maybe you could start with a rug or two,” says Alex from the foyer.

Henry turns to find him with his keys in one hand and a paper bag in the other, smiling in a beam of mid-morning light, and, ah. Yes. There it is. That sweet, sharp gasp of nerves. The half second when he forgets how to use his mouth. If he knows nothing else, at least one certainty remains, which is that seeing Alex Claremont-Diaz in the flesh will always do this to him.

Alex in a photo is handsome, but Alex in life is a symphony. He’s refracted light with a cherry cola chaser. He’s got a Fibonacci jawline and a troublemaker smile and thick forearms built for posing in doorways with his sleeves rolled and thumbing corks out of champagne bottles. The first time Henry ever told Pez about him, he said, “God, but he’s lethal.” It’s only worse once you get to know him.

“Weird place for a credenza,” Alex comments. He kisses Henry’s cheek, then passes him a warm bundle wrapped in parchment paper. “Hope you like sausage-egg-and-cheese.”

“I don’t know where to put it.”

“Sandwich goes in your mouth, typically.”

“The credenza.”

“Ohhh, right,” Alex says, pretending to have just caught on. He winks. Henry sighs theatrically but accepts a second kiss, on the lips this time. “Why don’t you just put it right here?”

He points to his left, where a blank wall stretches from the front door to the foot of the stairs. It does, upon closer inspection, appear to be the exact right size.

“Oh,” Henry says.

This is where they overlap. Where he ends and Alex begins. Great gooey puddle of feelings, meet course of action; endless burning energy, meet point of focus. Agonies, meet your most obvious, most natural, most inevitable conclusions. It’s frightening sometimes for a person like Henry, who has spent his entire life pedaling his agonies about like baguettes in a posh little bicycle basket. What is he to do with them now?

Yes," Henry concedes, "I suppose I could," and Alex laughs.

...

It's the summer of 2022. Henry has opened his third shelter, and Alex has just finished bulldozing his first year at NYU Law.

A few boxes of books still wait at Alex's place, but otherwise, he lives in Henry's brownstone now. Their brownstone. A UT pennant beside a Chelsea scarf on the living room wall. A fridge full of Topo Chico and Bulmers. Two pairs of shoes by the front door, brown Barker derbies and Reebok trainers. Nobody could mistake it for anyone else's.

It's their first Chore Sunday (Alex's idea), and Henry has put the last of the laundry in the dryer. He's in the kitchen doorway, watching Alex unload the dishwasher.

Alex once told Henry the type of man he's typically attracted to: tall, broad-shouldered, pretty eyes, a little haunted. Bit of attitude and a smile that makes you curious. For Henry, it's never been so simple. He liked boys in his classes because they bothered with the assigned readings and fancied one of Philip's awful Eton friends because he could sail and smelled of cinnamon. The only thing all his Oxford boys had in common was that they didn't know how to speak to him. He's never had a type, and he's always been sure Alex was singular, anyway. Alex is unlike anyone he's ever met before or since.

But here, now, watching Alex bend to remove a salad bowl from the bottom rack, he is confronted with the hard truth. All those boys did, actually, share one trait.

"Are you gonna help me with this," Alex says without even an investigatory glance over his shoulder, "or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?"

...

It’s Christmas 2022, their first since Alex officially moved in, and Henry is going to make a yule log if it kills him.

Perhaps he’s been too ambitious. He’s rather new to all. Growing up, he was rarely permitted in the kitchens, and he concentrated his uni diet on fast food and takeaway. He can make toast and boil an egg, and he’s got a deft hand with the coffee percolator and a gin swizzle from time to time. He knows about food– the finest foods, actually, he’s yet to meet an Englishman who can select a better brie– but he never learned to cook, until recently.

Recently, as in when Alex became too fanatically involved in his second-year coursework to remember to feed himself.

It began with force-feeding Alex a bacon butty twice a week. Henry’s arms suffered little constellations of grease burns, but bacon was easy. And those faded, so they didn’t deter him for long. Curiosity piqued, he taught himself the basics of pasta, how one can simmer almost anything with garlic and onion and butter and it will taste good over noodles. It bolstered his confidence enough to truly commit, and now, between hours at the shelters and video calls with his mum, he watches tutorial after tutorial on how to brown butter and roast chicken. Only half of what he makes turns out the color it’s meant to, but he loves it.

He loves walking to the market on the corner and hunting down specific ingredients from the family recipes June sends him. In fact, it’s become such a regular pastime that the paparazzi have cottoned on, which is why his mother finally forced his security team to hire an actual body double. Now some bloke named Angus with his height and build and nearly the same face goes on diversionary strolls while Henry peruses jarred chilies.

With all his independent studying, he was certain he could manage a dessert. He wanted to do something impressive, since they’ve convinced their families to let them host Christmas dinner. Only, his sponge has gone all wrong, and if he’s learned anything from Bake Off, he knows it’s not meant to have cracked in five places when he tried to roll it up. Paul Hollywood would have him pilloried.

“Think you might’ve left it in too long?” Oscar asks from across the kitchen island. He’s wearing his white elephant prize, a sweatshirt airbrushed with the slogan YOU CAN’T SPELL CONSTITUTION WITHOUT TITS. Inexplicably, Henry’s own mother brought that one. “Lookin’ kinda dry there.”

“I appreciate that you are trying to be helpful,” Henry enunciates, “but if you say one more word I may start crying, and then we’ll both lose some respect for me.”

Later, when Pez has persuaded him to “call it, mate, put it out of its misery,” he carries his disgraced platter of ganache and cake and marzipan out into the living room and lets everyone go at it with spoons. The house feels full to bursting, and not just because of the Christmas crackers. There are all three of Alex’s parents, Henry’s mum, June and Nora, Bea and Pez, Shaan and Zahra on speakerphone, occasionally an awkward Philip and Martha via FaceTime, and, because he had nowhere else to go for the holiday, Angus.

(“I don’t like him,” Alex muttered when Henry suggested inviting his own body double to Christmas dinner.

“Why not?”

“Because he looks exactly like you, but I find him deeply unattractive, and that freaks me out.”)

Ellen tells everyone the story of the year Alex got his first real bike for Christmas and knocked out his two front teeth by Boxing Day, which prompts Catherine to recite eight-year-old Henry’s letter to Father Christmas, in which he requested a leather-bound journal and a holiday to East Wittering so he could gaze at the sea. Bea pushes Henry behind the upright piano, and he takes requests for an hour. It only ends when Pez rewrites half the lyrics to “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” to be about his own lactose intolerance. No one wants to follow “tidings of Lactaid and soy.”

After the third round of mulled wine, when Alex’s parents have called their drivers and his mum has retired to the guest room, June and Nora find themselves under the mistletoe. Everyone whoops and whistles until Nora finally pulls June in by her Christmas-light necklace and kisses her to a round of applause. June's cheeks turn red, but she looks pleased as anything.

"I can't believe it took this long for y'all to finally kiss." Alex says, to which Pez bursts into laughter. "What?"

"Alex," he says fondly. He drains his glass and pecks Alex on the forehead. "You gorgeous, stupid little turnip."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Pez just shakes his head and strolls off to the kitchen.

"Wait," Alex says.

He frowns, like he does when he's trying to recall something incredibly minute and specific from his torts textbook. Then, suddenly, a light goes on, and his own mug is clunking on the lamp table, and he's running off after Pez.

"Pez, what's that supposed to mean?"

...

It's late morning the summer before Alex's last year of law school, 2023, and Alex is the first word out of Henry's mouth.

Truthfully, that's how he begins most mornings. On a Monday morning five time zones away, "Alex" pitched low to the screen of his phone. On a Friday when Alex's early lecture is cancelled, "Alex" in F major, muffled in the pillow as his body moves and the day stretches out before them. Half three the night before an exam, a hoarse "Alex," followed by, "turn the bloody light off and come to bed."

This morning, it's because David is barking at the door. A rainstorm is brewing, and if jet lag didn't have Henry dead under the bedclothes, the gray gloom would. Alex was the one who surfaced from sleep half an hour ago and blearily ordered three entire pancake breakfasts from some 24-hour diner a few neighborhoods over. He should have to get up and answer the door.

“Alex.” Henry mumbles, turning over.

Alex has got the quilt tugged up so high he’s only a shock of wild curls on white linens.

“Nnnghh,” Alex groans from the depths.

“Breakfast is here,” Henry says. The doorbell helpfully rings again. David howls.

Alex’s face appears, pouting. There’s a crease from the pillow down one of his cheekbones, a comet’s tail in a constellation of freckles. “Can you get it?”

Henry rolls his eyes but smiles. Inevitable.

He drags himself out of bed and pulls on the joggers and hoodie from last night’s flight. It’s not until he feels the breeze on his ankles as he descends the stairs that he realizes they’re Alex’s, not his.

On their doorstep, a pink-haired delivery girl is looking bored under her bicycle helmet.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Henry says. He fishes a crumpled bill out of Alex’s pocket. “For your trouble.”

The girl pulls a face.

“Got any real money?” she asks. Her accent reminds him a bit of Alex’s mum.

He blinks down at her hand, which is holding a twenty-pound note. “Ah. Sorry again. Er.” He snatches his wallet out of the bowl on the credenza and gives her all the American dollars he has.

“She’s gone, Davey,” Henry says afterward to David, who’s now fretfully circling the living room. “You’ve protected us from another fearsome home invader. Well done.”

He lets David out into the back garden to do his business, then carries the food upstairs. Shockingly, Alex is awake and propped up against the headboard.

“I’m getting too old for red-eye flights,” Alex says, rubbing his eyes.

“Love, you’re twenty-five,” Henry reminds him. He deposits the bag on the nightstand, and Alex wastes no time tearing through the plastic and tucking in to his breakfast. “And I’m older than you.”

“Yes, you are. But like... I get why we have to go to Philip’s kids’ christenings. The cousins, though?” He sets to work smothering his pancakes in syrup. “I mean, at least my cousins would stack their baptisms. One and done, baby.”

Henry opens his mouth, prepared to answer with one of a thousand things. That the tabloids will have even more of a field day than usual if he stops doing his chores, that there will always be a church dedication or a swan upping or an appointment for a top hat fitting, that he’ll always be obligated to have one foot in London and one day they’ll have to choose where to settle down. It’s far from the first time they’ve had this conversation.

But then Alex shovels a massive bite of pancakes into his mouth and says, “Anyway, I love you. Do you wanna have June and Nora over tomorrow? We can play Mario Party again. I wanna see them get in a fistfight. Oh, and my dad’s in town next week, and he said to tell you he’s bringing that book you asked about–”

And that’s when Henry knows: He doesn’t ever want to go back.

...

It’s the end of spring 2024, and Henry is not eavesdropping, per se. He excused himself to answer a call from Shaan, which really could not be avoided. Shaan has taken to his new life as a househusband with predictable aplomb, and most of his calls these days involve Henry getting to talk to a baby who is clearly destined to become prime minister. He simply can’t send that to voicemail.

It’s the first time they’ve had room in the schedule for his mother to visit since Alex accepted his law job, which Henry understands very little about but has been assured is the most strategic next step for Alex’s career long game. When Henry left the room, Alex was still trying to explain it to Catherine. It all sounds terribly prestigious.

He is just returning to the sitting room with a fresh pot of tea when he hears his name from around the corner.

“–and the next morning Henry and Arthur vanished,” his mother is saying, “and when Uncle Algie called, I told him that Henry couldn’t go on the annual pheasant hunt because he was violently ill, but actually Arthur had taken him to Rome for two weeks on the set of that go on ridiculous car heist film he was working on, the one with, oh, what’s his name–“

“Jason Statham,” Alex says promptly, through wheezing laughter.

“That’s the one!”

“Loved that movie,” Alex says. “I can’t believe Henry got to be on set.”

“It was all Arthur’s idea, but he was right to do it. Uncle Algie is a dreadful bore, and Henry despises his son. Guilford. Did you meet Guilford at the wedding?”

“Henry made sure I avoided it.”

“Yes, that’s for the best,” Catherine says daintily. “He has matured into an absolute dickhead.”

Henry wishes he was in the room to see the way Alex sputters out, “Oh my God.” Alex always forgets that Catherine went to uni and married a commoner from Sheffield.

And then Alex sighs and says, “When Henry and I get married–”

Henry manages to recover the teapot before he drops it.

It’s not a surprise to hear Alex mention marriage. They’ve been sorting it out for years: political logistics and Alex’s child-of-divorce anxiety and a thousand questions about a royal wedding neither of them actually wants to have. He’s already bought an engagement ring, even, and judging by how tetchy Alex gets whenever Henry tries to put his underwear away for him, he’s not the only one.

But it is the first time he’s heard Alex mention it to his mother. He dropped it so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if he’s been talking to her about marrying Henry for years. Henry supposes it’s possible he has been. Is this why Alex had tea with her in London last month and told Henry he wasn’t invited? Have they been conspiring?

They’re discussing hypothetical guest lists now, which cousins secretly hate one another and who wore an inappropriately large fascinator to whose birthday tea, but Henry isn’t listening anymore. He’s thinking of a cafe table in Rome, his dad waving over a second round of gelato.

In his memory, he’s nine years old, and his father is saying, Whoever you marry, Henry, make sure they think your mum is a laugh, because she is. She really is.

He clears his throat and finally rounds the corner. “Tea, anyone?”

...

It’s 2024, and nobody knows they’re engaged.

Granted, they’ve only been engaged for about three hours, but Henry is curious to see how long they can go. It feels nice to keep a secret that doesn’t have to be a secret. It’s more that they’re keeping it like a pet, or something especially beautiful from the garden that they’ve coaxed into a jar.

A record is spinning on the turntable, one of Alex’s, maybe the Joni Mitchell he borrowed from Bea. They’ve shoved their phones under the couch cushions and ordered a pizza the size of the moon, and now they’re sitting in the center of the living room floor, demolishing it. They kiss, then eat more pizza, then get distracted kissing again. Henry licks a streak of pepperoni grease from Alex’s forearm, which is a fantasy he didn’t know he had until he’s living it. They tangle up on the rug, and Henry decides he’ll take Alex sailing next weekend, or even out to the edge of the river, just to see him against a horizon.

Four-nearly-five years in, the main thing he’s learned is that Alex is a world without end. All Henry wants is to go on with him forever. To keep finding new favorite parts, to keep turning things over and studying their soft bellies and finding the best bits.

So, he will.

...

It snows on New Year’s Eve 2024. Alex looks out the window and shrugs off his coat.

The Young America Gala may be no longer, but Nora, June, and Pez aren’t to be stopped from throwing a New Year’s party, especially now that Pez has gotten his own part-time flat in the city. They’re the three fates of New York City’s holiday social circuit: birth (June, managing invitations), life (Pez, topless), and death (Nora, also topless).

“What if,” Alex says, turning to Henry on the foot of the stairs, “we don’t go to the party?”

“Nora will murder me,” Henry says. “She told me she’s not afraid to do that now that I’ve given up my title.”

“Murder is still a crime even if you’re not officially a prince.”

“Yes, but she said, quote,” he puts on his best American accent, “They can’t put me in the Tower anymore. Who’s gonna arrest me now? Mr. Bean?”

“Why don’t we just send Angus? It’s dark. Maybe she won’t notice.”

“Where’s your double, then?”

“We live in New York, I’m sure I can find a male model somewhere.”

“As always, sounding the very bass string of humility.”

“Is that fucking Shakespeare?”

“Henry IV.”

“I’m gonna give you a wedgie, you fucking nerd.”

In the end, it doesn’t take much to convince Henry to stay in. Lately, it never does. Alex texts June a flimsy excuse, and they toe off their shoes and relax out of their button-downs.

Henry does have to admit he’s exhausted, in the way that one only can be on the last day of the year, when every other day of the year piles way up behind it. It’s been a big one: Alex’s first law job, the endless press about Henry’s decision to surrender his title, the engagement, Bea’s wedding, the incident with the croquet mallets and the Dutch ambassador at Bea's wedding.

Sometimes Alex jokes that they squeezed it all into one calendar year because no headline can stick if there's another next week, but it's only half a joke. They've been bone-tired for months.

"I'm surprised you're the one who wants to stay home," Henry says. "I remember a young lothario who lived to ruin people's lives on New Year's Eve."

"Ruin?" Alex says. "That's not how I remember it."

"It certainly felt that way at the time."

They drift to the kitchen, past all the traces of the year. The dried flowers, the new scuffs on the floorboards. The box of bound manuscripts of Henry's first finished poetry-ish short-fiction-ish essay-ish collection. The holiday cards from senators and diplomats and old Texas friends, topped off with Alex's favorite of Rafael Luna and his astonishingly fit partner in matching Christmas jumpers. Henry would think Raf had been forced into it if it hadn't come with a case of beer and a note of thanks for letting him stay over the last time he visited Alex and had one too many tequila shots at drag bingo.

Alex withdraws a bottle of Clicquot from the refrigerator and says, "We're not washed, are we?"

“We're aging," Henry points out.

"That's right," Alex says, eyes immediately sparking at the opportunity. Henry preemptively sighs. "You're almost thirty."

"Almost twenty-eight is not almost thirty."

"It basically is. You're old. You'll be thirty a whole year before me. You'll be popping antacids and I'll be in the club, popping my p-"

"You're not even in the club now."

"I could be, I'm just choosing not to, because I don't want to deal with the snow. That's not aging, it's growth."

He slides Henry a glass of champagne and adds, "It's probably time for us to start talking about what's on your Do Before Thirty list, huh?"

Henry takes the glass and chooses going with Alex's bit over pointing out that he's entering his late twenties, not dying.

“I’ve done quite well on that front so far, actually,” he says. “Wrote a book. Started a nonprofit. Engaged to the love of my life.”

“Involved in an international sex scandal.”

“Shook the hands of all five Spice Girls.”

“Best dressed at the Met Gala.”

“Cried in the Water Lilies room at the MOMA.”

“Grew your hair out, then cut it all off.“

“Taught myself to make beef Wellington.”

“That one’s, uh, still in progress,” Alex hedges. Henry gives him an affronted look. “But, yeah! Definitely. And you got really good at scones.”

“That I did.”

“Right,” Alex agrees. “So what’s left? Streaking? Dropping acid? Having sex on our kitchen island?”

Henry takes a moment with that one.

“Having sex on our kitchen island?”

When the clock strikes the new year, the house is quiet. The timer on the light over the front stoop clicks off. The champagne bottle rests between two glasses on the edge of the sink, spent and sticky around the rim, a single soggy strawberry at the bottom of each flute. Miles out from their apartment, fireworks fight the snow over the East River, but in their kitchen in Park Slope, the only sounds are the two of them.

Henry, almost twenty-eight, presses his warm body to the cool marble and gets his midnight kiss.

...

“Do you know what today is?” Alex asks on a lukewarm September.

It’s 2025. He’s in the doorway of Henry’s study, where Henry has been all evening, answering emails.

“Hm? No.”

When Alex doesn’t immediately fill the silence, Henry looks up from his laptop screen.

“What is it?”

“Five years since the story broke,” Alex says.

It takes a moment for him to realize what story Alex means; there have been so many of them. But of course, he means that gigantic, terrible one. The one that changed their lives forever.

“Oh,” Henry says. He closes his laptop, leaning back in his chair and away from it. “Well. Hated that.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “Zero out of ten. Would not do again.”

His tone is light and casual, but when he folds his arms across his chest, Henry can see his glasses in the front pocket of his flannel. It’s been months and months since the last time Alex didn’t feel confident enough to wear them.

For his part, Henry can remember much of that day, but not all of it. He remembers stirring sugar into his morning tea when Shaan walked in wearing an expression Henry had never seen before. He remembers Pez arriving like the cavalry in Gucci slippers, hustling Henry away from his handlers with the same graceful disdain he used to direct at Eton classmates who stared at them too much. He remembers Bea finding them in the music parlor and refusing to hear Henry’s apology, and he remembers Alex’s call and Alex’s arrival.

The funny part, though, is he can’t remember anything between Bea and Alex. He knows that Philip was involved, and there were stories on every news channel, and he spoke to his mother at some point. But the space in his memory where those hours belong is simply blank. His psychiatrist says it’s post-traumatic stress disorder, and Henry is inclined to agree, considering the two of them spent the entire following year recalibrating Henry’s anxiety and depression medication around the event.

Those hours will always be gone. There are things he will never get back.

Most of the time, though, when he thinks of that day, the second worst thing that's ever happened to him, he thinks of Alex's hand in his under a Buckingham Palace table. He remembers, clear as a bell, Alex's voice telling him they would survive it together. It happened to Alex too. It wasn't what they would have chosen, but it was what they received, and they've done their absolute bloody best with it.

He rises from his desk, crosses to the doorway, and gathers Alex up against his chest. Their size difference isn't that pronounced—Henry is taller but lean, Alex shorter but sturdy—but in moments like this, he's thankful for the way Alex's cheek perfectly aligns with the crook of his neck. He's grateful for how effortless it is to slip a kiss to Alex's temple.

Neither of them says anything else. It's all been said a thousand times, in speeches and through official statements and in the dark when it's only the two of them. It's enough to stand here in the center of the house, in the quiet, and let it hold their weight.

...

At the end of 2025, Henry has a bad day.

There's nothing specific that causes it. The days just happen like this sometimes, even with all the therapy and medication and supportive partnership and fulfilling creative projects in the world. There are other people, he supposes, who don't spend their lives waiting for the next bad day. He's had every bloody luxury but that one.

Alex comes home from work to find him curled up on the armchair in the study, staring out the window at the light-polluted night sky over the row of brownstones across the street.

“What are you doing?" Alex asks him.

"Looking for Orion," Henry deadpans.

Alex kneels on the rug in his tailored suit pants and rolled-up sleeves and rests his cheek on Henry's knee, the way he often does when Henry's in a mood. Henry's fingers slide into his curls. They've grown a bit longer in the past few months. Lately. Alex looks quite like he did when they met, except for the glasses and the stubble dusting his jaw.

“I’m tired of big law, “ Alex confesses. It would appear he’s in a mood too. “I know it’s only been a year and a half, but...I kind of hate it.”

Henry contemplates that, along with the dark circles around Alex’s eyes.

“You don’t have to do it, you know.” Henry tells him.

Alex looks at him like he did in that hotel room in Paris the first time they woke up together, like the only thing he knows for sure about what he’s being offered is that he wants it completely. It’s an intimidating look to receive, but it’s only ever improved Henry’s life in the end.

He kisses Henry’s knuckle, just below his ring.

“I have some ideas.”

...

In February 2026, a flu sweeps through Park Slope. Neither Alex nor Henry can agree on who gave it to whom first– Henry knows it was Alex, since he’s been up late consulting with his mum about a voting rights bill in Texas, and his immune system always suffers when he gets upset about Texas—but regardless, they’re trapped in the brownstone together for a week. At least Alex doesn’t have to work through his illness the way he usually does, since he resigned from his job last month.

Somewhere around day five, Henry realizes it’s the longest consecutive amount of time they’ve both been home in years. They always seem to be leaving or returning: rushing off to appearances, climbing out of security caravans in half-undone suits, meeting Cash at the curb at three in the morning with bags over their shoulders. It’s nice, in a way, to get reacquainted with this home they’ve built together.

While Alex naps, Henry paces the entire floorplan.

The first floor, with its long living room and the original beams and mantelpiece, which Henry had restored before he moved in, because he always has been precious about the history of things. Then the kitchen and the deep blue cabinets and the wide back window over the knotty pine dining table handed down from Alex's dad. Upstairs, on the second floor, the guest bedroom with all of his mum's preferred hand creams in the attached washroom and the sitting room with the shelf of swan figurines Pez started collecting years ago in a dramatic fit of June-related yearning. One more flight up to the top floor, with his study and Alex's office and the hall with their photo from Shaan and Zahra's wedding and, at the far end, their bedroom.

The bedroom is his favorite part of the house, and not only for the obvious reasons, no matter how much Alex tries to imply otherwise with suggestive eyebrows. He loves the high ceiling and the chipped plaster medallion of roses at the center. They picked out the bed together, and every morning that he wakes up in it, he gets to turn over and see Alex's loose pens and glasses wipes scattered atop the dresser and know that this, his life, is still real. Perhaps he likes the room best because it feels separated from every other part of the house, lifted up and bundled in, which is the first time he's ever been safe in a tower.

Most importantly, of all three levels of bay windows jutting from the redbrick front of the brownstone, only the one in the bedroom has a seat. They've filled it with velvet pillows and mossy green cushions, and once or twice a year, on one of their vanishingly rare slow days, Alex will climb in and fall asleep.

That's where he finds Alex when he eases into the room with a mug of soup in each hand. He recognizes the quilt wrapped around him: they slept under it in Alex's childhood twin bed the night Ellen won her second term, and then Alex crammed it into his suitcase and brought it back to Washington.

He stirs as Henry sets the mugs down on the dresser.

“Thanks,” he says in a hoarse voice.

Henry nudges in beside him, gingerly removing Alex's glasses from beneath his elbow before they get crushed.

"You know," Henry says, "I chose this house for the bay windows."

Alex blinks at him, fully awake now. "Really?"

"I thought you might like them. You always talked about the one you grew up with. Hoped they might make the place feel like home."

Alex smiles. "They do."

Henry looks at him in his quilt, sleep-mussed and flushed from fever and overdue for a shave, and he remembers that night in the yellow house in Austin. Before Alex led them back to his old bedroom, he peeled up the cushion in the living room window seat and showed Henry pages of elementary school scribbles still hidden there. And he told Henry that he thought once of hiding a picture there too, if only he'd had the nerve to tear it out of his sister's magazine.

Love, Henry has found, has a way of growing backward. You fall in love with a person in the present, and then every person you've ever been gets to fall in love with every past version of them. A sleep-deprived Georgetown freshman falls in love with an Oxford sophomore who's testing out undoing the top button of his shirts sometimes. A ruddy-cheeked teenager with his nose in a book loves a backtalking lacrosse captain. A boy comes home from school with perfect marks and sees a picture in a magazine, and the boy from the picture pauses on a palace staircase.

The crux of it is, he loves every version of Alex to ever sleep under that quilt. Everything else is mostly set dressing

"I'm having a thought," Henry says.

"Congratulations," Alex deadpans automatically. Then, "Tell me."

"This life we have here," Henry says. "This house. It's good, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course it is."

"But we could have a good life somewhere else too."

Alex frowns. "Like where?"

"Somewhere... farther from everything, maybe? Somewhere we could slow down, and things could be quieter, and you could do the work you want to do. I think I could use some time away from it all, honestly. Maybe I wouldn't even have to have a body double anymore."

Alex considers that for a long moment. They both know where Henry means, even if he doesn't say it. Besides New York and DC, and London on its best days, there's really only one place Alex would seriously consider living. They've joked about it before, but Henry's always thought it might be nice to spend a few years somewhere completely different than he's used to. A place where he could see the stars.

At long last, Alex sniffs and says, "You're gonna fire Angus? He was just starting to grow on me.”

...

“If you don't wake Bea up, you're gonna have to hear about her back spasms in the morning,” says a voice that is most certainly not Heath Ledger's.

Henry startles awake to find Alex leaning over his shoulder from behind the loveseat, curls everywhere. The room is dark, and the end credits are rolling.

"You're not home until tomorrow," Henry mumbles.

"Moved up my flight," Alex says. He's so close to Henry's face, he's gone a bit cross-eyed. His lips bounce off the tip of Henry's nose. "I missed you."

It's only been a few days, but the truth is Henry missed him too. He supposes he should be used to empty beds and time differences by now, especially when they began that way, but he suspects he'll never stop waiting at the door. You know what will be the best part of getting married?" Henry asks Alex.

"The line dancing."

"The way I won't have to miss you nearly as often."

Alex softens, then maneuvers himself over the armrest until he's draped across Henry's lap. David climbs on top of him and curls up on Alex's left buttock.

Letting go of the house has been hard, but this particular decision was easy, once they finally said it out loud. A gradual, careful withdrawal from public life, at least for a few years. They’ve given so much of themselves to the world and had the privilege of feeling a legacy take shape beneath them, but they need rest too.

It was June who convinced them, actually. Even now, there are certain things only June can say to Alex. Early in the spring, when she was finally transitioning out of her speechwriting job for Raf, she called Alex from Colorado and told him she was moving to New York to be closer to Nora and Pez, and she wanted to sublet the brownstone. When Alex pointed out that he was still living in it, she said, "We both know you've been looking at farmhouses in Austin for six months, it's time to shit or get off the pot."

(Henry loves his particular collection of Americans. They truly do say what's on their minds.)

The new house is beautiful. Henry's only seen it in person once, but the previous owner was a reclusive tech executive with shockingly good taste, so Architectural Digest featured it last year. He's had the article open in a tab on his phone for two months, and he scrolls through all those perfectly lit photos twice a day, getting high on possibilities. Lazy mornings in the wide sunroom, midnight dives in the lake. It's easy to imagine Alex mellowing into a brisket-smoking, tamale-rolling Texas dad out there, and it's just as easy to imagine them basking under cedar trees until their mid-thirties and then deciding they're ready for another round. The wonderful thing is, they can take their time either way.

It isn't a full release from their obligations, but it is the next step after formally relinquishing his title. More boundaries, more of their own rules about what they will and won't do. No royal wedding, but a private ceremony at the lake house and a honeymoon unpacking boxes. A job for Alex at a smaller firm where he can finally get his hands in the earth. A quieter life.

"You're right," Alex says. "You know what else is gonna be awesome about married-people life? We can have actual, real-life date nights. Just imagine it: free refills and bottomless chips and salsa."

"Oh, I've got another one," Henry says. “You can finally show me how to navigate an H-E-B."

“Baby, don’t talk dirty to me in front of company.”

“Please,” says a groggy voice from the couch.

“Hi, Bea.”

“Time’s it?”

“One in the morning.”

“Ugh.”

Grumbling and tugging a blanket around herself, Bea wakes Pez and the two of them head off to wash up before bed. The odds of Pez returning to the couch for the night or availing himself of their bed so that Alex has to sleep on the couch are just about even, based on six years of Pez falling asleep at their house. It’s a comfort to know that when they leave the brownstone and June moves in, Pez will still be making himself at home in it.

Downstairs, surrounded by boxes, Alex crawls out of Henry’s lap and slides a large shopping bag out from behind the loveseat. “I brought you something.” Alex says.

Inside the bag is a box made of the sort of heavy cardboard that augurs something expensive. He imagines Alex hurling his patched-up rough-ridden leather duffle into the overhead compartment of the airplane and then sliding this bag under the seat so carefully that there’s not even a crease in the paper.

He takes the lid off the box and unwraps layers of tissue paper to reveal a hat. A cowboy hat. It’s made of gorgeous, thick felt, with a cattleman crown and a satin lining. A nearly identical one has hung in Alex’s office since he moved in, though Alex’s is midnight black and this one is a warm, pale sand. Where Alex’s hatband has a small gold buckle, this one has a silver pin in the shape of an English rose.

“It’s a Stetson,” Alex says. When Henry looks up at him, his cheeks have darkened faintly. “I know it’s not really your thing, but you ride horses, and it’s kind of a big deal where I’m from to get your first Stetson, so I wanted to be the one to give it to you since you’re about to be an honorary Texan. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want–“

“I love it,” Henry interrupts.

Alex pauses, then breaks out in a grin. “You do? I was afraid you’d think it was a joke.”

“It’s the least ridiculous hat I’ve ever been given,” Henry tells him. “It didn’t even come with a matching tailcoat.”

“Nah, but maybe we can get you some Wranglers,” Alex says.

“Some chaps, perhaps.”

“I just told you not to talk dirty to me.”

Henry laughs and kisses him over the open box, thinking of the next year of their lives. Sunday morning fry-ups, swimming holes, a wedding cake that doesn’t wind up on the floor. Tomorrow he needs to ask if Alex checked on the bakery while he was in Austin, and if they have any more packing tape, and whether Amy’s daughter has gotten her flower girl dress yet.

Tonight, though, Alex is home a day early, and the house is making all its soft, familiar night-time sounds around them. No one sees in through the windows. No one comes in through the gate.

“Henry,” says Alex.

“Alex,” says Henry.

“You and me,” Alex says.

“You and me,” Henry agrees.

End.

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