#'daniel your mind is almost completely empty' 'huh?' 'exactly'

[thegroundhogdidit]

funniest character development of all time award goes to dan espinoza for going from gaslighting asshole to world's most oblivious himbo within the span of three seasons

[jonahlovescoffee]

Multitasking | J.M.

a/n: kinda cringe? idk but i don’t wanna let it stay in my drafts either so yeah lol happy reading <3

summary: you wanted jonah’s attention and he’ll give it to you, even though he’s on a phone call.

warnings: smut without coitus bc i’m lazy to write that part-

word count: 3040

“Jonah, your lovely girlfriend is here,” you chirped happily when you entered his house a spring in your step, excited to finally be able to spend some alone time with him, something you hadn’t done lately because of him being busy with all the necessary preparations for the new album’s release while your schoolwork had been taking up too much of your time. However, your face fell immediately when you were greeted with the sight of him on his phone, chatting away with someone. It was supposed to be just the two of you today making full use of the rarely empty house. His face lit up when he saw you, but he made no move to end the call. You nudged your head towards his phone with your arms crossed in front of your chest, urging him to end it or else you’ll choose to end him instead.

“Just one more second, I promise,” he told you, pulling you down to give you a quick kiss in a weak attempt to wipe the evident scowl off your face. “It’s important.”

You rolled your eyes and plopped down on the empty seat next to him. “Fine, but make it quick,” you prompted, taking your phone out to hopefully find some ways to entertain yourself for the time being. He wrapped an arm around you in a silent apology, which you responded with laying your head on his shoulder as he continue talking.

“Yeah, y/n just came over,” he said and you heard a vaguely familiar voice speaking from the other side of the phone, but the sound was too muffled for you to decipher it into coherent words. “Daniel, we can talk about your music ideas another day.”

You internally groaned when you heard the name of your friend’s boyfriend and the mention of music ideas because you knew Daniel long enough to know that it always took ages for him to finish rambling about all his new musical creations. You usually wouldn’t complain about that because you were a huge music buff yourself and having the chance to discuss music with someone as enthusiastic as him was a gift from god but he should know that now wasn't the right time to do so.

Another reply came from the other end of the phone. Jonah seemed to hesitate for a while before offering an answer this time, glancing sideways at you to make sure that you weren’t about to explode with anger. You sighed but sent him a soft smile and he mouthed a silent “you’re the best” in return. “Okay, okay, let’s hear it then,” his hand found yours and gave it a light squeeze.

You scrolled through your chat log to find Emily’s contact, before sending her a message to ask for help. Is there any way you can shut your boyfriend up? Because he is stealing mine from me.

A reply came mere seconds later. LOL I’ll see what I can do.

Just when you were about to thank her, your phone vibrated and another message from her appeared on the screen. Fuck. The studio door is locked and I forgot where he keeps the keys.

You swore the next time you saw Daniel, you were going to hurl all six feet of him into the pool and make him drown. Wow, I can’t believe my luck today.

Don’t be such a whiner. You can try to make Jonah pay attention to you instead ;) She suggested and an idea popped into your head right away.

Have I ever told you how much I love you?

Ahh I love you more bb <3 was the last reply from her before she went offline, the green dot beside her profile picture disappearing.

You put your phone back into your bag and turned towards your boyfriend to find him still deeply engrossed in his conversation. You shrugged his arm off you and moved your body to assume the position on top of one of his thick muscular thighs, facing him. He raised an inquisitive brow. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled into his neck, inhaling the alluring scent of him that did nothing but fed your lust.

“I want you so bad,” you whined softly, earning a stroke of your hair from him, his hand subsequently sliding downwards to rest at the small of your back, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps down your spine.Your hands did their own exploring too, your fingers tracing the curves and edges of his shoulder blades down to his biceps, humming in satisfaction at all the new muscle you found beneath your fingertips. He hadn’t been joking when he told you that he had been working out a whole lot more lately. The more of him that you felt, the more uncomfortable your southern region became.

Jonah felt it all—the heartbeat between your thighs, the wetness that seemed to be soaking through your pants, the subtle grinding of your body against his thigh, and how the member in his pants seemed to awaken at your movements. Suddenly Daniel’s words through the phone didn’t seem to make sense when they entered his brain that was currently a complete mess. He put his phone away for a moment to whisper into your ear, “Look at you, can’t even go a few minutes without wanting something, huh, baby?” His voice was husky and deep, exactly the way you loved it, and you almost came from the sound alone. He used his hand to help you rock harder against his thigh, urging you to speed up which you did willingly, finally able to relieve some of the pain from your core.

Your whimper was enough to answer his question. He kissed the tip of your nose. “Ride my thigh, sweetheart,” he ordered, brushing a thumb over your lips. “But be a good girl for me and be as quiet as you can, okay?”

You nodded obediently and he returned to his phone call like nothing ever happened. You bit your bottom lip forcefully in order to prevent moans after moans from escaping as you, the friction between your clit and his thigh putting your mind in a blissful daze. “Fuck…” you breathed near his ear, the sound taking him by surprise making him stop talking mid-sentence, hazel eyes glancing to the side to see your half-lidded eyes and lip that was colored in a shade of bright red from sinking your teeth into it too hard, completely forgetting what he was planning to say to his friend.

“Jonah?” Daniel’s voice sounded, snapping Jonah back to his senses.

“Yes? wait a moment bro, got something to settle first, be right back,” he said, placing his phone on the armrest of the couch to focus on you. “Feels good baby?”

“Uh huh,” you said, not expecting him to bounce his knee in a steady rhythm afterwards with so much vigor that you instinctively moved your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself, rolling your hips as you ground yourself down on him hungrily. Feeling your greedy little hole clamping down around nothing as you felt your climax nearing.

“What about now?” he drawled, chuckling darkly when you started to let all sorts of whimpers and mewls fall from your lips. “Tell me, pretty little slut, how good I’m making you feel,” he lifted a hand up to your face to trace your jaw tenderly. Once. Then twice. Then replacing his touch with his lips.

“So fucking amazing, Jo,” you could barely get the words out as you unabashedly ground yourself down against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the overwhelming sensation, gasping in surprise when his palm moved to spank your ass. The movement made you grind against his firm thigh perfectly as you forgot his earlier warning to stay quiet and cried out.

“Shh, keep it down, baby,” he coaxed, his lips curving into a smirk as he beheld your desperation to chase your high, each of your movements getting sloppier than the last. “He can still hear you, you know?”

Another whimper. “I...I’m close, Jo,” you managed to say before grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and burying your face in the crook of his neck, though the movement of your hips remained unfaltered.

He tilted his head a little to press a kiss into your hair. “Cum for me all over my thigh, sweetheart.”

Jonah’s husky voice was the catalyst you needed to send you hurtling over the edge, feeling that coil inside you snap as your orgasm washed over you, his name spilling from your lips in a loud cry, your toes curling as you were completely engulfed in ecstasy. His grasp on your waist remained strong as he continued bouncing his knee, slightly slower than before, not allowing you to move back as he kept grinding your cunt against him, letting you ride out your high. “Shh, you’re getting too loud, baby,” he placed a finger on your lips when you continued moaning his name repeatedly as your puffy clit got overstimulated, although he absolutely loved the way his name rolled off your tongue like a prayer. He felt a certain something straining harder against his designer jeans, yearning to break free.

“Look at what a mess you made because you couldn’t wait for me to finish my phone call,” he tisked disapprovingly, his gaze dropping to his thigh, his hooded hazel eyes looking between your bodies at the darkened wet stain you had left against said jeans with glee, even more when he saw your pants that were utterly soaked with your release. He stopped bouncing his knee then, earning a dissatisfied whine from you. “Enough of thigh riding, sweetheart, your pants are ruined,” he grabbed his phone and released his grasps on you before whispering, “Now turn around. Let me help you get them off you.”

You did as he told, your back now leaning against his chest as he pushed your pants down, followed by your panties and you kicked off both of the garments when they pooled at your knees. He raised his phone towards his ear as his other hand glided over the swell of your hips to your front, his knuckles brushing over your core gently. He started drawing slow circles over your clit with the pads of his fingers, causing you to arch your back into him more.

“Nah, it’s nothing serious. Wes just broke another glass again, that’s all,” he lied to his best friend, the pace of his fingers increasing as he put more pressure on your clit, making you a squirming mess in his arm. Unable to keep you steady with only one arm around you, he put his phone on speaker mode and placed it back onto the armrest before sliding the now free arm around your waist.

“You sure? Because I heard...umm...something and it sounds nothing like shattering glass,” Daniel stated, but Jonah remained pretty unfazed unlike you whose breath caught in your throat immediately, dreading the possibility of getting caught. However, all your worries were immediately forgotten when he dragged a finger ever so gently up your glistening folds that were already slick with your juices. You instinctively rolled your hips against his finger, yearning for as much friction as he could offer.

“Then you must’ve heard wrong. Now, where were we?” Jonah said nonchalantly before sliding a finger into you and your jaw fell slack as you moaned at the sudden intrusion. He pumped his finger slowly to stretch you out but you weren’t content with it. You wanted more so you let your hand travel to your bundle of nerves but before you could do anything, he grabbed your wrist with his free hand. Words didn’t need to be conveyed between the both of you for you to get his message just from the look he gave you that clearly said he didn’t want you to interfere.

“Okay, so I thought of this melody…” you tuned them out, solely focusing on the overwhelming pleasure that he gave you with nothing more than a finger and before you knew it, you could feel your walls clenching harder around it that continued to thrust in and out of you non-stop as he maintained a casual conversation with his best friend.

“Nngh, Jonah,” you whined, “Faster, faster, gosh.”

“Quiet,” he whispered sternly between his sentences just as he slipped another finger into you and you bit his neck on instinct to stifle your moans, making him groan right in the middle of their conversation.

“What the actual fuck was that?!” Daniel exclaimed in horror.

“Nothing,” he shot you a glare but your eyes were screwed shut with pleasure so you couldn’t see it. “But I really really have to go now, bro, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait a minute,” Daniel said just as Jonah’s finger hovered inches above the red end-call button. “Is y/n there with you? Like right next to you?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Please don’t tell me you guys were...umm...doing it while you were talking to me because the weird sounds kinda sound like,” an obvious gulp. “Her.”

“Daniel what is wrong with you today? First you hear weird noises then now you’re trying to accuse me and my girl for having sex while I’m on the phone with you? Well lemme tell you something, Daniel,” Jonah’s fingers thrusted into you quicker, matching the swift pace of his thumb that was furiously rubbing your clit, making you a writhing mess on his lap. Soft moans left your lips since you were unable to compress all of the sounds that threatened to escape.

“Y/N and I would never,” He slammed his fingers knuckles deep into you. “Ever,” His fingers curled inside you and you sucked in a shaky breath. “Do something like that,” He started doing patting motions, hitting all the right places, almost making you scream as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy, unable to focus on anything else save for the overwhelming pleasure that he gave you. “Right, love?”

He has to be joking. He can’t seriously expect you to—

“Open your mouth and talk, baby,” Jonah’s voice was soft but authoritative when he spoke into your ear, a smirk present on his face. He knew that it was nearly impossible for you to do anything, especially talking, when you were so close to your climax but all in all, he was still someone who loved testing and pushing you past your limits.

“Yes...I...we,” you stuttered as you whimpered softly after each word, his fingers never stopped working their magic inside you. He placed kisses all the way up to your ear from your shoulders before starting to nibble your earlobe. You couldn’t search for the right words to say, let alone speak without giving away the fact that you and Jonah were indeed doing it while having his conversation with Daniel. “We are not doing anything,” you got all your words out in one breath, a little too fast for them to sound extremely convincing but still good enough for Jonah to give you an approving hum.

“Good girl,” Jonah cooed, his voice alone making your entire body tingle with pleasure. “Now end the call,” he attached his lips onto the sensitive spot under your ear, nibbling and sucking it softly, pushing another moan out of you.

“But—”

“No ‘but’s, baby,” a kiss on your shoulder again. “You don’t want me to not let you cum, do you?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to argue with him, not when release was threatening to spill out of you.

“Bye, Daniel,” you said breathlessly.

“Just so you know, I still don’t believe that—”

“I said bye, Daniel,” you cut Daniel off before he could continue rambling about not trusting your words, reaching over to Jonah’s phone to end the call.

Jonah smiled when the screen of his phone turned black but his following words were nowhere near happy.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you? Always so obedient when you want me to give you what you want,” he snarled. “But what about just now, hmm? You were so loud, so impatient, always wanting more than what I gave.”

“So do you think you deserve to cum, dear?”

“Sorry, it just felt too good,” you whimpered, already on the verge of tears, when you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. “I won’t behave like this again, Jo so please—“

He pressed his lips onto yours, cutting your pleas off with a brief kiss. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook just this once. Let it all out now, baby.”

And just like that, you released for the second time all over his thigh and he took his fingers out of you and licked them clean, groaning at how wonderful you tasted. “Fuck, you taste so good. It's totally worth ruining my jeans for this.”

“But I wanna taste yours too,” you whined and he smirked.

“Hmm,” he laid you down on the couch and crawled over you, a hand already at the zipper of his pants to pull it down. “Think you’re still able to take my dick?”

“Always,” you yanked him closer by the front of his shirt, wanting to bring his lips to yours but before your lips even touched, a series of meows sounded suddenly.

Both of you turned towards the source of the sound simultaneously to find Wes standing at the corner of the living room, staring at you both intently with his wide, curious cat eyes.

“You know what? Maybe we should do this elsewhere,” you gave a suggestion with an uncomfortable grimace.

He zipped his pants before moving back into a sitting position, which you mirrored. He patted his lap and you went to sit on it right away. “Or,” a teasing grin was plastered on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “We could ask Wes to join in too.”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU PSYCHOTIC PERVERT!” you screamed in disgust and hit him with the couch pillow you grabbed from beside you.

taglist: @chilling-seavey @neralondon @mia-marais @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @kvd963 @cutiebandlover202 @savspersonalproperty @slowdownatthelotusinn @angelzacharyy @freakshows199 @my-fangirling-outlet

[bubblegumbeech]

Finding Home

Phic Phight Prompt by @hauntedozone

Sequel to Home with no Memories

He’d been alone on the road for a week now.

In all honesty he should be half dead, exhausted and starving and desperate to find something to eat or drink. But he wasn’t. Well, he was exhausted, just, more emotionally.

It would be easier, he thinks, if he knew who he really was.

His memories were still so fractured so damaged, he didn’t even really know what he was looking for. Just that he was following some vague idea, a concept, a feeling of family and comfort and home and everything a parent was supposed to provide.

So why was he walking away from them?

Easy, Danny thought, It’s because parents or not, those feelings of safety and comfort? Weren’t something they could provide. Even when they tried, even when all that effort was put forward to be those perfect, sitcom style parents, they couldn’t do the bare minimum and not lie to his face .

He wanted Jazz.

He didn’t even know who she was. Not really. But he wanted the feelings that came with the odd memory of her, the comfort, the warmth. The vague annoyance that he was so sure family members were supposed to feel towards each other instead of the full blown fear that held him in its grasp whenever Maddie- his mother - got near him.

In all honesty he wanted to know who he was. What he was. Daniel James Fenton. Missing for five years before being found, unconscious by his parents and brought to a hospital where they kept him for a month, planning their fake lives, their lies, and everything else.

That’s what he does remember. But who else was he?

Why didn’t he look any older? Where were the others? Why was he the only one found and why was it five years later?

But Danny didn’t have the answers. He might never have the answers. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to go look for them. First, however, he needed a place to start.

It was novel, being alone. It was pretty freeing as well, no pressure to pretend to be the child that someone else had been missing, no fear of being discovered doing something wrong. No fear of discovering something and it being wrong.

Danny had gotten used to being a wanderer, following a gentle tug in his core that seemed to pull him further and further away. There was no knowing where he was going, and he didn’t exactly have fair for a bus, or food, or really anything at all. So he had to just keep walking.

It took him a week before the hunger hit, and it hit harder than he’d expected. There was something wrong about it, he couldn’t help but think, he’d never heard of hunger being this deep, of seeping into one’s chest. His stomach growled, and he felt a tug towards something. He followed.

The tug took him towards a rest stop with a small diner, open 24/7 and full to the brim with truckers and other poor souls either caught on the road late at night or spending their lives transient and traveling. Just like Danny was now. He wouldn’t mind it, honestly, if he didn’t have the bone deep feeling that he was supposed to be somewhere, and that it was wrong for him to be away.

He walked in, hoping he passed for old enough to be driving on his own, and sat down at a table in the corner. The hunger was so much, just so much and he hadn’t eaten in so long. He’d been convinced that whatever it was his parents had done to him, it had taken away his hunger. It seemed now, that hadn’t been the case.

Maybe he could order food and run? There were plenty of places to hide in the woods, and he’d be good for at least another week right? Unless he just couldn’t feel hunger until it was pressing, didn’t he read somewhere that humans can go a week without food? He was still human, right?

“Hey sweetheart, where’s your parents?” asked an older lady in a waitress uniform, her hair was tied back in a tight but messy bun, and her apron was covered in stains. She set down a glass of water, looking worried and Danny smiled, tried not to look as tired as he was.

“I just got my license,” he lied, “so this is kinda my first roadtrip.”

A flicker of understanding passed behind her eyes and she smiled, “got lost huh?”

Danny ducked his head, an attempt at feigning embarrassment. She just shook her head and handed him a menu, “let me know what you want okay? And don’t let any of these old losers bully you, they’re the rough and rowdy kind.”

Nodding his thanks, Danny opened the menu. It was full of foods he couldn’t fully remember, things he wanted to try, but his eyes landed first and foremost on the burger on the top right. Out of all of them, that one felt the most familiar and he tucked the Menu away.

He sipped on his water, trying not to gulp it down too quickly. He didn’t want anyone to think he was desperate, they might think he was a runaway. They might call his parents. He needed to make it through this without being too suspicious, just eat, and run. Easy. People did it everyday.

When the waitress came back and he placed his order she didn’t look twice at his half empty water, just filled it quickly with the water from her jug and promised his food would be out right away. He waited eagerly.

Eventually, in an attempt to ignore the hunger eating away at the very center of him, he started people watching. He was in a small booth in the corner, so it wasn’t difficult to look around, see all the different people living their lives in the exact same place Danny happened to be.

There were a few sitting alone, silently reading the newspaper or some book, but most were sitting in groups, talking loudly and sharing exploits. Danny had no way of knowing if these people were strangers or friends with each other but he ached none the less.

What would Sam be like, sitting here surrounded by rednecks? In the few fuzzy memories Danny had, she always looked so elegant, all black clothes, sharp eyeliner, expensive fabrics. He couldn’t picture her in a place like this. Then again, he could barely picture her at all. The only truly solid image he’d had of her was from the article.

The one that proclaimed her missing. Along with Tucker and Jazz and Danny himself. He fought back tears, there was no use in breaking down now. He had to find answers, somehow.

His stomach growled again.

After he ate of course. The waitress came back with a huge burger and a whole plate of fries he hadn’t ordered and set it down in front of him. Danny had looked up at her, ready to tell her the mistake, but she simply waved him off and explained it was on the house. He looked hungry after all.

And well, he was. He tucked into the burger, and then the fries, and by the time he’d finished it all along with his third glass of water, his stomach was full to bursting and he had to sit back and take a deep breath. But despite the meal, he was still hungry. He could feel it, the pull in his chest screaming out for something, but he couldn’t eat another bite. He’d tried.

He fought back tears. What was wrong with him now?

The waitress walked over once she noticed he was done, “are you alright? Was the burger no good?” she asked and Danny shook his head, trying not to let her see his face.

“It was fine. Better than any burger I can remember,” he forced a smile.

She frowned, not taken in at all, “Sweetheart, I know our food ain’t that good. Something wrong? You want me to call someone-?”

“No!” he shouted, a touch too fast and far too loud. “No, I … I have to do this on my own.”

The waitress shook her head, she was practically flooded with worry and concern and it tasted almost bitter on his tongue. Tasted. Danny frowned.

“I- Do you want to hear a joke?” he asked.

Startled the waitress set down her jug, “of course sugar, let’s hear your joke.”

It was clear she was humoring him, but Danny didn’t care. He needed something, and there was an inkling of a possibility, a thought that maybe this might work, and he was going to jump on it with everything he had.

“Where does the General keep his armies?” he asked, banking on his knowledge from reading popsicle puns when he was sneaking out back home. No, not home. Back where his parents were.

The waitress rolled her eyes, “I suppose in the barracks?” she smiled.

“Nope, in his sleevies. Do you think glass coffins will be a success?”

“I don’t-” she tried to say, caught off guard by the pun and trying to humor him with a laugh, but failing, obviously, in her confusion.

“Remains to be seen. Did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm?”

“Uh no I-”

“Ehh, his hand writing’s all right now-” his joke was interrupted when he heard her bark out a laugh, a genuine one and Danny’s chest hummed with the sound. He breathed it in, and felt something ease, just a little, in his chest.

“I’m glad you laughed, my usual clientele don’t usually get my jokes. It's hard to explain puns to kleptomaniacs. They always take things so literally.”

This one had her snorting behind her hand and looking at him completely anew, “kid you are something else you know that? This your attempt at getting a free meal?”

Danny smiled awkwardly, “is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, “keep trying charmer. I’ll go get your bill.”

Danny absorbed just a bit more of her laughter before she left, letting it settle under his skin, comforting and energetic. It wasn’t enough, not nearly, he realized, but it took away the edge and he found himself feeling mostly normal again. Well, as normal as someone who could apparently eat emotions was.

He was gone before she returned.

It was an unsettling feeling to be sure. He still wasn’t fully confident he still needed to eat, if the only thing that had taken away the painful emptiness in his chest was going to be emotions. What else was wrong with him? He didn’t age, or if he did it was slowly, he didn’t eat actual food, the cuts and scrapes he had gotten while walking through the trees to follow that tug, that pull in his chest that kept him going, all went away as quickly as they appeared. He was almost tempted to cut his hand deeper and time it as the skin stitched together.

Was that something his mother had done?

One thing he did know, he needed sleep. It was to biggest hurdle in his entire time traveling, almost a week away from home and he’d needed sleep more than anything else and it was almost grounding. It helped him feel human even as he laid awake, looking at the stars and somehow knowing the names of every constellation but not remembering why.

He wondered if Tucker was okay. If he’d complain about traveling like this or insist they took some gas guzzling car. Would he have counter arguments to Danny’s fractured morals, comment on how one little meal won’t hurt a restaurant but it could be life or death for him. That felt like something Tucker would say.

Danny kept walking.

He’d prepared after the first stop at the roadside diner. First, he’d shoplifted protein bars and trailmix,then he’d charmed the rest stop cashier into a roiling laugh after defending her from a particularly rambunctious drunk that had wandered in and made a mess of things. She’d thought it was hilarious to watch a grown man get his ass handed to him by a teenager, and Danny’s chest had practically purred with the satisfaction. As if that right there had been the first meal he’d had in months.

After that he felt lighter, like gravity wasn’t affecting him as much, and the pull on his chest got stronger, leading him away and into a certain uncertainty. He was excited now, pushing all the thoughts of experiments and inhumanity aside, there was an adventure to be had. And he was going to have it.

Looking at the stars helped too.

It was secondary of course, but whenever he felt frustrated, or tired, or on the edge of just stopping and giving up right then and there, he’d look up at the stars. Orion was there, watching over him, the big dipper and canis major, and every other constellation he could point out with ease. It gave him the energy he’d needed to go on, keep moving forward. To find the answers he so desperately needed.

One of the things he stole had been a watch. It was a large, ticking one that had caught his eye as he walked around the large store, trying not to seem to suspicious. It reminded him of something, the analogue clock he'd convinced Maddie and Jack to buy before he ran away perhaps? Or maybe, it was the ticking that was familiar. Either way it had been a comfort when he wrapped it around his wrist, holding it up occasionally to his ear just to listen. He let himself have it, this one thing that brought him comfort as he fled the only possible home he could remember.

It helped him sleep at night.

The first time Danny disappeared, it was because he was scared.

He was in the middle of the woods, decently far off the trail and mostly unconcerned with being found. Most people wouldn’t be out this far, this late, and they certainly wouldn’t be so far off the trail. Which was why, when he’d heard voices, hushed and excited, he went still.

Danny knew why he was here, the instinct he was following, homing beacon, whatever it was, it didn’t care where roads were, and it cared even less for forest paths. He wouldn’t get lost, and even if he was out here in the woods for sometime, he’d figured out exactly how to keep the hunger at bay. At least, for long enough.

The voices grew louder and Danny tried to think of what to do. Did they know he was out here? He hadn’t exactly been bothering to keep quiet, and if he could hear the crunch of leaves and foliage underneath the stranger’s boots as they walked nearer and nearer, then surely they had heard his own, far less careful steps.

Thinking, quickly and with no small amount of panic, Danny stayed still and calmed his breathing. If they knew he was in the area but he didn’t make a sound, it would take luck to find him, or some kind of tracking skill, shit. His eyes started looking around at the trees, picking out branches he might use to climb, but none of them looked like they’d hold his weight. Even if he himself felt lighter, it was unlikely a tree would agree with him.

He struggled to calm his breathing as the voices stopped, but the steps grew louder. What should he do? They were coming straight towards him? Why would they stop talking if they were trying, somehow, to sneak up on him?

His heart beat in his chest, an uncomfortably fast rhythm and Danny squeezed his eyes closed just as he heard someone break through the thick of trees in front of him.

“Brett there’s no one here,” a voice spoke, less than a foot away and full of gravel.

Danny opened his eyes.

There were two men in front of him, both holding weapons, one was a large pistol that had Danny’s heart almost stop once he caught sight of it, while the other was holding a large machete, likely used to make traveling through the wood like this easier.

“He’s hiding then,” said the stranger with the gun, “you saw the snag of blue fabric on the tree. He definitely went this way. Just, look in the bushes or something.”

The other guy, the first one to push past the trees and into the small space Danny was now standing, sharing with them, started swinging his weapon around and calling out in a sing song voice that had the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck rising.

“Come on out kiddo~.” he said, “we’re just worried about you. It isn’t safe getting lost alone in the woods at night. I mean, who knows what kind of scary people you could run into-”

Bret had slapped him on the back of the head, and ignoring his partner’s cry of outrage, said “you idiot. Do you even know how not to run your mouth?”

“Oh come on,” he’d said, carelessly waving his machete around, inches from where Danny was standing, back flush against the bark of a tree. Danny sucked in his breath to avoid being nicked. Even if they apparently couldn’t see him, the last thing he wanted was them getting a bit of blood on the blade and wondering where exactly it was from. “What’s he gonna do? Run? It’ll be easier to catch him then.”

Danny had to admit, that was certainly true. But he was eying a small trail between two of the trees nonetheless, maybe even if he made noise, if he was still invisible they wouldn’t be able to find him right?

The blade slid through his chest and into the tree.

He didn’t breath, didn’t risk the rise and fall movement of his chest, and braced for the pain. Like an idiot he’d gotten distracted, let them put a giant knife through him, and now he was going to bleed out in the middle of the woods on some quest for answers he didn’t know existed. His thoughts raced past, half formed memories that he’d been holding onto with desperation and emotions he didn’t properly remember feeling, interspersed with the image of his parents, crying on the driveway as he walked away. Was this what happens when an amnesiac watches their life flash before their eyes?

The blade got taken out of the tree, a thick piece of bark falling off and onto the forest floor before the man sheathed the thing. Danny raised his hand to his chest, confused. The pain had never come.

In fact, it was like nothing had happened at all. The blade had simply gone through him.

Like a ghost.

He ran away, running through trees and their branches, his steps silent and weightless, his hands barely there and transparent as he lifted them in front of his eyes. This wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense, people can't just stop existing like this. That’s something he’d know, someone would have mentioned it as a possibility.

Right?

Something was wrong, horribly wrong and Danny fought against the feeling bubbling up in his chest, tried to force it down, and ran face first into a tree.

Groaning, he felt around his tender nose. Apparently being incorporeal wasn’t a permanent thing, it was just… something he could do now. Or maybe, it was something he could always do. How much of him as he currently existed, was from his parents experimentation, and how much was from when they’d tried to “fix him”. Would he ever get an answer?

Danny let his head fall back into the grass and listened for the sound of anyone following him. It would be quite a feat, he supposed, if they even realized he’d left with the way it went down. So instead he looked up at the sky, started counting stars, and let himself fall asleep right there. This dream was of an endless forest and a strange, guttural language he’d never heard before, but found himself understanding.

After he got out of the woods he went to a small town. It was nice, cozy even and the people were pleasant to be around. Even if they threw him the occasional odd look due to his filthy worn hoodie and unwashed hair. He took the chance to sneak into a gas station bathroom and try to wash some of the dirt that had caked on his face, there was nothing he could do about the dark circles though. They were a permanent fixture at this point and Danny almost wouldn’t recognize himself without them.

Once he was finished with that, he walked around a bit more, looking for stuff he could do, people he could help. The ache in his chest had come back after his long stint in the woods, and he was eager to take this opportunity to try and soothe it.

Unfortunately, a filthy stranger walking around town wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy character and Danny struggled to find anything he could do that wouldn’t just scare someone off. It was when he’d asked around outside the arcade if anyone needed help with something around town, that an adult man had stopped what he was doing, looked him up and down, and said “you trying to get a job?”

Danny, not knowing really how to answer, just nodded. He was, in reality, just trying to find someone to help payment not needed, but he wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that either.

The man just sighed and said that he’d needed help moving some of the machines into the back and that, legally, it was a two person job. He offered twenty bucks and Danny shook his hand eagerly, a large smile on his face.

The man introduced himself as Marsh Hangreeve and explained that there were about half a dozen machines that needed to get moved, either they were broken without repair, no one really played them any more, or they were so outdated that all the cords were starting to fray and become a health hazard to the younger kids that sometimes wandered around the arcade.

The first one they lifted had been lighter than Danny was expecting, and they were able to easily maneuver it exactly where Marsh had wanted it in the back storage closet. Once they’d set it down, he’d had given Danny an approving look, nodded, and led him to the next one.

They were on their way back from carrying the fourth, and Danny was feeling pretty pleased with himself, when a kid no older than six had ran past them and tripped over the wire of one of the damaged games, pulling it off balance. The entire machine tipped back, towering over the fallen child and Danny couldn’t stop himself from running forward if he’d wanted to. His very being hummed and pulled, and he was there, one arm holding up the machine and the other curled around the child, protective.

Marsh had screamed a warning, but it hardly mattered. Danny lifted the machine easily back into place and gently picked up the child in his other arm, before stepping away and setting him back down.

“Hey,  are you okay?” he asked the frightened child, concerned.

“Is he okay?” Marsh scowled, “are you? Boy I told you those were a two man job why would you run over trying to get yourself squished like that!”

Danny rolled his eyes, clearly it wasn’t as heavy as it had been made out to be, “and let him get crushed instead?”

Looking over at the kid Marsh breathed out a frustrated sigh, “I guess you have a point. But don’t do it again or you can forget the twenty bucks I owe you. Here kid, let’s find your parents.”

Danny smiled, it felt good, helping people.

Was that the human part of him though? Or was it something else?

When Danny and Marsh finished the job he’d gotten his twenty dollars and a free dinner, and Danny gratefully accepted. Despite everything, he really did like being around people. Humans were kind by their very nature, and Danny basked in that feeling as much as he could on his journey. Sure, sometimes he felt more like he was taking advantage than anything else, and it was selfish almost, to seek out civilization only for his own needs.

But he tried not to think about that too much either- it sometimes caused a physical ache in his heart- and let the free meal settle as he fell asleep again, under the stars. They were particularly bright that night and he could have sworn he heard the ticking off a clock as he drifted away to sleep.

It was getting colder. It made sense really, he was headed north afterall. And he’d made plans for that, for the winter cold and the snow. He’d gotten a winter coat from walmart by sneaking in through the walls, it turned out he could spread that particular power to anything he touched, and fought the wave of guilt that hit him every time he did something like that.

He justified it in his mind with two different familiar voices. One that was easy going and carefree and told him, “hey you need that more than anyone else does, besides who’s going to miss one silly coat if it’ll save your life it’s worth it right?” The other was more steady, almost righteous and it said that “large conglomerates like Walmart and other stores gain most of their fortune on the backs of workers. They could stand to lose a bit of merchandise.”

His plan, once it got too cold to stay outside, had been to use the truck stops and sleep there, insulated from the cold at night before heading out again in the morning and continuing to walk. He’d had the fleeting thought, that perhaps he was headed to the north pole, and that there was no way for him to get there, no matter how long he walked, because that just wasn’t what humans can do.

Then again, he should have known better than to think himself limited to what humans can do.

It was when he woke up, covered in snow and more comfortable than he’d been any time Maddie had tucked him into bed under layer and layer of warm blankets, that he realized the cold didn’t just not affect him: it was a comfort.

Danny had held the snow in his hand and marveled at it. It didn’t melt, nor did it’s cold sting at him, and Danny found himself sitting, enraptured, by the intricate detailed designs that every flake formed as it fell. He blew the snow from his hands and watched as more formed, icy and solid and buzzing with the same kind of energy he felt just underneath his skin. Could he make ice now?

Was he Jack Frost or something? It certainly made sense, Jack Frost could apparently turn invisible and supposedly took the form of a young man riding on the wind. Then again, he’d never read anything about Jack Frost being able to turn visible, and Danny didn’t think he could fly.

Could he?

How would someone even go about discovering that?

As eager as he was, Danny wasn’t about to go jumping off cliffs or anything, not when he was so close to his answers. To the end of the rope that’s been leading him, tugging at his chest. So Danny just shook the snow out of his hair, marveled at the comforting soft feel of it, and continued his trek.

Amity Park had a sign on the outskirts proclaiming it “a nice place to live” and Danny felt something click into place as he walked past the town’s boundary. His emotions were suddenly running wild, as if he’d been starving them, and suddenly he could feast. He had to take a step back but there was something stopping him, a cry for help and he ran towards it, energy flowing all around him too much to keep inside too much to hold and he felt as a bright light surrounded him and he flew forward, his legs fading behind him until he came upon a scene straight out of his nightmares.

It was a monster, terrorizing a young woman, probably in her early twenties if that. The monster was large, glowing, and only just opaque enough to not look like some kind of hologram. Danny flew in front of it, putting himself between it and the girl and growling a warning. He wasn’t thinking about how his feet weren’t touching the ground, he refused to question it for fear of the ability going away without his control. He didn’t look down.

The monster stopped, a stunned look on its face, “ghost boy?” it asked. Danny frowned, why did that voice sound familiar? Was he really something from his dreams? How much had he dismissed as fantasy only for it to be reality, law of nature breaking reality?

“What did you call me?” Danny asked, risking a glance to see if the woman had run yet. She hadn’t, instead she was just standing there, smiling, and when she noticed him looking, she waved. He fought a blush, what the hell?

The monster laughed, “I knew you hadn’t Faded! They all told me I was crazy to hunt for prey long dead, But I, Skulker, was right! And here you are!”

Danny didn’t know how to react to that. Did he know this thing? Wait, no, clearly he knew this thing. It was somewhere, scrambled with the rest of his memories. Flashes of cages, and fights, constant paranoia, and Danny felt his hand grow cold as he built ice in it to attack with.

The woman called out though, no longer afraid, “oh please. He’s only been gone, what a year? Weren’t you crying just last month about how much you missed him?”

Danny turned around to face her, “weren’t you scared? Why are you still here?”

At the same time the monster, Skulker, sputtered, “I was merely lamenting the loss of such rare prey!”

The woman just giggled, “how can I leave when my hero has finally retuned to save me~”

There was something weird going on here. For one, everyone seemed to recognize him, but neither of them had used his name. For two, he and this Skulker were clearly floating in the middle of the day and almost no attention was being paid to them at all beyond the woman who’d originally called for help.

Who clearly no longer felt she needed it.

“Hold on,” Danny said, struggling to sort through the information he was being given, “you two know me?”

Skulker’s grin dropped and the girl gasped.

“What do you mean by asking such an absurd question! You and I are mortal enemies! Of course we know each other!” geez, he didn’t have to get so offended.

Danny crossed his arms, “what’s my name?”

“Uh,” Skulker looked down towards the woman before looking back at Danny, “you know you’re usually a bit more tightlipped about that. It’s really not sporting to hunt prey that isn’t in it’s right mind.”

Danny scowled, “why would I be tightlipped about my name? Ugh, this is a waste of time. Just,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “leave the lady alone and go do something I don’t know, Hunter-y that won’t piss me off.”

“Why would I-”

“Or I can freeze you into a block of ice that doesn’t melt,” Danny threatened, feeling the energy build behind his eyes.

At Danny’s glare, the hunter gulped and feigned looking at his watch. “Huh, looks like it’s time to go feed that gorilla, I’ll uh, be back to hunt you later Welp!” He flew away.

Danny sighed and let himself float gently downward until his feet touched the floor. The woman ran over to hug him, eager, and Danny just let himself go intangible, unwilling to be touched so casually by someone who basically amounted to a stranger.

“Do you know my name?” he asked, warily.

She blinked, “Of course! You’re Phantom, ghost boy and savor of Amity Park. Did you hit your head or something?”

“Or something,” he answered, still stuck on something she said, Skulker had called him that as well, “what do you mean when you say ghost boy?”

Her eyes widened and she brought one of her hands, slender and perfectly manicured, to cover her mouth as she gasped. “There is something wrong. I knew you wouldn’t leave for so long without a reason!”

Quicker than he could react to, she grabbed his shoulders and led him to a store front window. Whatever she was trying to show him was probably inside, but Danny was struck instead by his own reflection, ghostly and glowing with bright green eyes.

He disappeared.

The woman called out to him, not thrown at all by his display of power, or by how much a freak he must be. Was he the same as the monster he’d almost fought earlier? They’d called him ghost boy, was Skulker a ghost? Was he?

But he couldn't be. That didn’t make sense.

Someone couldn’t be alive and dead…

Unless…

Experiments…

“We were trying to fix you Danny.”

His chest hurt again. And he followed it subconsciously, taking a path through town on auto pilot, and trying not to think about his changed appearance. When had it happened, why? Was it something he could undo, like the other powers he had?

Why did this town feel so different from all the others? What was the giant spike of energy drawing him like a moth to flame in the center of everything. Was that what was pulling him here? Or was this just where he needed to be?

How long was it going to take to get him memories back anyways. There wasn’t even a clock tower here! Hadn’t that been his goal, the one thing he knew to look for?

His path had brought him to an old torn down building on the end of a residential street. It hurt, for some reason, to look at the rubble around him and not know what happened here, or even what it used to be. But he knew there was something here. He could feel it. The energy buzzed around him and he looked around, checking if there was any other crazy people or dangerous “ghosts” before he simply, let himself fall down through it.

He found a lab.

Not just any lab, but the lab from his nightmares. The beakers, the buttons, the ominous table with thick metal cuffs and dark green slime long dried on it. He put his hand to his chest, almost feeling the scalpel as it sliced into him. Taking a breath, he pushed it away, buried and hidden, he could think about that another day.

For now, all his attention was on the glowing green and purple swirling mass of energy that was singing at him like a song. It pulled him in, and he floated towards it, this power newly discovered and yet second nature, just like all the rest.

He hesitated for a moment, before he went through it. What if what he was looking for was over here, on this side of whatever that was, and he couldn’t get back out? What if he really was dead, and that led to the afterlife? What if he was missing the answers to his questions by going through?

But he’d followed the pull to this town and he’d found familiarity as foreign as it was, and now he was following his gut.

He braced himself and flew through.

What he found was a swirling green void that made no sense and defied what little laws of nature Danny remembered existing, like gravity and sense. Danny had the feeling that it went on, winding and stretching, for an eternity and that no matter what way he went, he could get lost forever and never find his way back.

That didn’t matter though, because right in front of him, larger than life and bigger than anything around it, was the clock-tower he’d been searching for.

It didn’t look like it belonged there, in fact, with it’s size and the relative barrenness of the collections of floating rocks and doors around him, it seemed rather ill placed. Like something had forced it somewhere it didn’t fit and Danny approached it cautiously.

There was no reason to believe that this was safe, just because he wanted it to be, just because his shattered mind had somehow put together that it was. He stood at the doors. In all reality they were ominous and foreboding. The entire tower was, sharp angles, deep purples and glowing greens. He didn’t feel scared though, so he lifted his hand to knock.

The door opened before he even touched wood and there, right in front of him, was another ghost. One he’d never seen before, with blood red eyes and a nasty, twisting scar hidden partially under a deep purple hood and a clock, ticking, familiarly, in his chest.

Danny felt tears build, his lips wobbled, his hands trembled as he clenched them tightly into fists, and when the ghost lifted his arms Danny flew into them clutching tight and crying. He heaved large, ugly sobs into his shoulder and felt a hand stroke down his back to comfort him.

“Welcome home.”

[ragingpancake]

Menace 2 Society

Set during any time period when Rodney and the gang are on Earth. Possible The Return era. John's away and Rodney finds out a life of crime really isn't for him even though he's really good at it. ~1600 words. Crack.

Author's Note: a repost from my old livejournal, written for @popkin16 allllllll the way back in 2011.

The alcohol stopped burning several shots ago. Now, it slides down as easily as a glass of water (hold the lemon) so he downs the cheap whiskey and motions for another. He thinks the bartender is smirking as he slides the glass across the counter, so Rodney salutes him sloppily with two fingers. "To," he hiccups and burps. Half the liquid sloshes out of the tiny glass as he raises it in thanks. "T'you. For keepin' the good stuff comin'," he says. Or at least that's what he tries to say but it's possible he's speaking Ancient. He swallows and drops the glass back to the smooth bar top and leans over, pressing his face against the cool wood. It feels good and he wants to close his eyes and just sleep. It's not like anyone would miss him anyway.

He sighs and rubs his cheek against it and then he sighs some more. This has turned out to be a spectacularly shitty day. "Ca'I get one more?" Rodney asks. He wiggles a single finger in the bartender's direction, but he will not be swayed. "Sorry buddy. I think you've had enough." It sounds familiar and Rodney remembers even though he came here to forget. "Says who?" He asks, drawing himself up to full height. It's most likely ineffective because he can feel himself swaying on his bar stool. He'll be lucky if he doesn't topple right over into the floor like Humpty Dumpty and that's enough to set him off in a fit of manly giggles. He mumbles the nursery rhyme under his breath--at least, he means to--as he stumbles to his feet and wrestles his wallet out of his back pocket. His fingers, normally so deft and skilled, feel fat and totally useless as he opens the flap and wrestles a wad of money out. It isn't easy but eventually he's successful. He tosses a couple tens down on the counter. "S'been real, m'man!" He calls to the bartender and sweeps his jacket gracefully off the back of the stool. Well, he thinks he sweeps it gracefully off the back of the stool except he's not graceful even under the best of circumstances and drunk out of his mind doesn't really count. He almost falls, but he compensates and manages to keep himself upright. He's the fucking man. "Smooth, McKay," he congratulates himself and saunters--stumbles--towards the exit. Rodney has one hand on the doorknob when the sound of raised voices catches his attention. He whirls around, but when he stops, the room keeps going and it takes a minute until it stops spinning until for him to see the cause of the argument. A guy who reminds him vaguely of Ronon save for the awesome hair, growling a woman who's smaller than Keller. Normally, he would back out quickly before the giant spots him because this is more John's forte than his, but fortified by several shots of cheap whiskey, Rodney puffs up his chest and opens his mouth before his brain catches up. "Hey!" The woman shrinks back, seemingly trying to disappear under the table as the guy turns, narrowing his eyes at Rodney. "The fuck is your problem?" The guy slurs. Rodney hasn't thought this far ahead but he tries for a defiant slouch and glares. "You're m'problem! Maybe you should jus'... jus' shut up and yell at someone your own size." Had John, Ronon, Teyla or even Zelenka been around, they would have reminded Rodney to take his own advice because how many times had he yelled at poor old Miko over the years? The guy laughs and rounds the table, but Rodney doesn't falter. If anything, he stands--tries to--a little straighter and rounds his broad shoulders. There's a very teeny tiny part of his brain, the part that's going to be pissed at him for potentially damaging valuable brain cells when he's not so drunk, that screams at him to run, but he just holds his ground. "You wanna say that to my face?" The guy asks, so close that Rodney can smell what he had for dinner. It's almost enough to make him throw up. "I said you should jus' shut up." The guy reaches out and shoves  Rodney. The extra force is enough to knock him off his balance and he tumbles backwards into the coat rack. He's vaguely aware of the bartender yelling over to them, but he's annoyed now in a way that has nothing to do with idiot lab technicians. It's a struggle to get to his feet but he manages and this time when the guy swings, Rodney has enough foresight to duck. He'll thank Ronon later for teaching him to dodge the obvious blows and he'll thank Teyla for teaching him how to strike. His fist connects with the guy's nose and Rodney can feel the satisfying crunch under his fingers. "I did it!" He says, mildly surprised at actually landing a hit. The excitement doesn't last long though because he's only served to piss the guy off even more and this time when he swings, he doesn't miss. Rodney takes a couple of punches, but they're nothing compared to the beating he would have received before Atlantis, before Ronon

and Teyla, before John. They've taught him to use his bulk, his broad shoulders and big hands, to his advantage and while he doesn't escape completely unscathed, he's pleased to see that the other guy is no better off. Of course, he has exactly three point five seconds to celebrate before his arms are shoved behind his back roughly and held in place by the cool metal of handcuffs. A bar fight and an arrest all in one night? John would be so proud. And it's with that thought that Rodney doubles over and empties the contents of his stomach on the floor. --- There's nothing remotely exciting about being arrested, Rodney thinks mournfully as he shifts in the cracked plastic chair. He doesn't even get to go to real jail. Instead, he's being held in the processing room at the local police department, staring dumbly at the back of the officer's head. He's slouched down in a computer chair, playing Solitaire. Rodney wonders what it means about local law enforcement when they can't even win at that. He wisely keeps this thought to himself. "Don' I get a phone call?" He asks. His head is starting to ache and while he's sure he's already thrown up everything he's eaten in the last year and a half, he still feels like he's going to be sick. He really just wants Carter or hell, even Daniel Jackson to come get him so he can go home and sleep for a month. Or at least until John comes back. "Nope," the officer drawls and that's the end of that. Well okay then. He slumps miserably in his seat, handcuffs clinking the metal rail he's attached to. He really just wants to go home. Not home home but Atlantis home where everything was good and John wasn't being stupid and gallivanting off to another planet in the Milky Way with his brand new team. Without Rodney. Apparently, alcohol was counterproductive because while it was supposed to make him forget, it's all he can think about. He's pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a quiet click and when the door opens up, Rodney can hardly believe his eyes. "Hey buddy," John greets, smiling lazily like Rodney isn't handcuffed for a reason that doesn't involve kinky sex. "What are you doin' here?" "Bailing you out," John says easily. "And really? A bar fight? What were you thinking?" "I was amazing," Rodney says, smiling despite himself. He goes to stand and then remembers he can't exactly go anywhere, so he flops down into the chair and sighs loudly. "John?" "Yeah buddy?" "Can we go home now?" John just grins. --- By the time they make it to Rodney's apartment, Rodney's ready to seriously pass out. He's exhausted and his face is hurting from where that Neanderthal's fist connected with it, but mostly, he's just so happy John is back that he wants nothing more than to get upstairs, get naked and sleep for a month. This time with John. It's a chore to get out of the car and up the stairs, but when John finally shoves the apartment door open, Rodney stumbles in gratefully. "You left me," he accuses halfheartedly as he pulls his shirt over his head with clumsy hands, throwing it onto the back of the couch. "Big jerk. S'your fault, y'know." "It's my fault you got arrested?" "Yes," Rodney sighs. John doesn't argue; he grabs the shirt from the couch and then steers Rodney into the bedroom and Rodney is positive that he's stifling a laugh when he face plants onto the bed. "Turned me into a hardened crim'nal. S'all your fault," he mutters, muffled by the mattress. "A hardened criminal, huh?" "You make me crazy." "I feel the same way about you," John says fondly. The bed dips under John's weight and a second later, Rodney finds himself cuddled up against John's side. He presses his face against John's neck and breathes in his scent. "Don't go 'way anymore, 'kay?" "I'm not going anywhere," John promises. "Especially after this. Who knew a few hours apart would send you spiraling downward into a life of crime?" Rodney just nods solemnly and snuffles quietly against John's neck. "'M such a menace to society," Rodney mutters. John laughs his horrible donkey-laugh and

Rodney feels fond lips against the top of his head. "You're a menace alright. Get some sleep, McKay. I have a feeling you're gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning." Rodney's already fast asleep.

[brokenkingdom-forgottenempire]

It Was A Good Night (Edge/Roman)

Okay....so..... it took me days to actually write this because my brain was not helping and I kept on deleting the plot. Im not happy with this but it is all I have for now. Imma try and write more next time. Rare pair but we love it. 

Edge with top!Roman for @reignsfx it’s not the best but I hope it’s okay? :’)

It was a crazy night. The crowd was loud. The arena was filled with fans. Their match was probably one of the best matches in history. The audience could not sit still, and Edge was loving it. He loved every second of it. From the punches he threw at Roman Reigns and Daniel Bryan, to spearing both men down to the mat. The painful groans and hitched breaths were music to his ears.

 He loved it.

 He did not win, he got stacked and pinned by Roman Reigns. He lost but it was a good match. It was a good night.

 After the curtains were down, the show ended, the fans were gone, Edge was still in the mood for something else. Something that involved a Samoan man. Edge walked back into the locker room expecting to meet anyone inside, but it was empty. He began to slowly pack his things and gears. Before heading back to the hotel, he decided to shower at the arena so he could just change into more comfortable shirts.

 It was as if everyone had just left, even the shower stalls were empty, but it did not bother him. Edge went into one of the stalls, took off his t-shirt and shorts, drew the curtain closed and turned on the water. Warm water felt like heaven on his tense muscles. Edge washed himself clean, shampooing away his sweat away. Once he was done, he turned off the water sprayed at stepped out of the stall, toweling his damp hair. The silence was all he needed after his match tonight, he needed peace.

 Edge was too deep in thoughts to notice there was someone else inside the shower room with him. When the older man moved to grab his fresh t-shirt out of his bag, big hand wrapped around his mouth, gagging and muffling his surprised yelp, his right arm was twisted back and held there. He tried to claw at the hand, but the drip tightened.

 “I’d be quiet if I were you,” deep and smooth voice made him stop struggling. Edge did not have to turn around to know who was manhandling him. Roman chuckled darkly when the old man suddenly just stood still and panted heavily. “Took you long enough to back to your locker room. The chief shouldn’t be waiting for his servant,”

 Edge managed to muffle out what sounded like a ‘fuck you’ before he struggled to escape from the Samoan’s grip. What was this man thinking? What if someone walked in on them? This fucker was going to get an earful of-

 “Ah-!” Edge cried out when Roman suddenly grabbed at his hair and yanked back.

 “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” Roman whispered at his ear.

 “Fuck off-“ before the older man could say anything else, a hard slap landed on his bare ass, making him realized that his towel had fallen off and he was standing there…naked. “Reigns! What the fuck someone is going to-“

 “I’ve locked the door. The hallway is empty, I checked. The others had gone back early. You’d know that if it didn’t take you hours to come back, “ Roman released Edge’s hair and not so sneakily moved to fondle the older man’s balls instead. The Samoan smirked when he felt Edge flinched and his touch.

 “I-I was talking to Vince, you little fuck,” even with the little insult at the end of his sentence, Edge’s voice softened. He knew Roman was a gentleman, but he also knew that the younger man could be a beast when he wanted something. “Can’t we do this somewhere else, Reigns?” Edge was not complaining but he rather not got fucked in the shower room. It would be hot, but he wanted to lay down and Roman could use him however he wished.

 Roman hummed, probably thinking and considering. The Samoan gently wrapped his big hand around Edge’s cock, slowly stroking and massaging it to life. Edge’s soft ‘fuck’ was almost a whisper, but Roman heard it and the younger man knew Edge was in the mood tonight.

The older man had been busy working out to get back in shape, and he had been distant weeks before their match tonight, Roman thought Edge had forgotten about him. The twins had to coax him that Edge was probably too nervous to get back in the ring and face him again since their storyline would be bigger and longer than before.

 “Thought you didn’t want to do this anymore,” Roman suddenly muttered out and it got Edge turning his head around to look at the Samoan dead in the eyes. The Rated R superstar had a confused look on his face.

 “Are you fucking serious right now, Reigns? You thought I wanted out of this and missed that good dick?” Roman shrugged and released all his grips on the older man.

 “You were busy-“

 “-Preparing for our match tonight, yes, so you don’t have to carry my ass during the entire show. You had me and Bryan out there. Sure, crowds love to see two old golds in ring again but a bad match is a bad match, doesn’t matter who is inside that damn ring,” Edge had turned around to face Roman completely before he reached up and cupped his lover’s face with both of his hands. “Besides, the longer we’re away, the better the sex,” Edge leaned in and crashed his lips against Roman’s. The Samoan naturally rested his hands on the older man’s waist, holding him close.

 “You know, I wanted to wait for us to get back to my hotel room so you can fuck me silly, but I need you in me. Now.” Edge roughly yanked Roman’s shorts down along, letting it drop to his ankles. The older man kneeled in front of the Tribal Chief and began to stroke the semi-hard cock in his hand. The action was enough to make Roman threw his head back and groaned in pleasure.

 Edge wasted no time as he took the hot flesh in his mouth. Roman’s hands found its way back to Edge’s hair and had a good grip on it, controlling Edge’s movement. Meanwhile the older man grabbed both of Roman’s muscular thighs to balance himself, his head bobbing back and forth. A choking noise echoed inside the empty shower room when Roman forcefully pushed his head down all the way to the base, Roman’s balls resting on his chin, the tip of the Samoan cock hit his throat. Edge tapped at the younger man’s thigh when he felt the need to breathe, and Roman released his grip almost instantly, letting his older lover breathe in as much air as he needed.

 “You tapped out,” Roman pointed out playfully, a smirk, and Edge wanted to yank him down to his knees by the balls. The older man scoffed and reached up to wrap his hand around Roman’s ball sacs warningly.

 “Oh, and I know exactly what will make you tap out, but this time I won’t let go,” Edge smirked when Roman raised his arms up in surrender. The Samoan knew one should never try and push the older man’s button. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you now,” Edge suddenly stood up and gently pushed Roman down to lie on his back on the wooden bench where Edge had placed all of his other things.

 Edge spat in his hand and pushed two fingers in his hole, trying to stretch himself before he let Roman’s big dick rail him. The blonde moved to straddle the younger man, and Roman helpfully aligned his cock with Edge’s twitching hole. The older man did not wait for his own hole to adjust to the grith and just slammed his ass down to the base, causing both men to gasp and moan out loudly. The sound of skin slapping skin filled in the space as Edge rode Roman hard. His knees were going to kill him in the morning but he did not care. Roman had his hands gripping at the side of Edge’s slender waist.

 “Fuck, Roman. You’re so deep, babe,” The older man breathlessly said. The Samoan replied with a low growl as he continued to thrust his hips upwards; he watched as Edge’s eyes rolled back from the constant assaults at his spot.

 “You’re so damn sexy, babe,” Roman grabbed Edge by the nape and pulled him down for a kiss. The blonde’s whines and moans were muffled by Roman’s lips as the Samoan purposely rolled his hips and shoved deeper into the other man’s tight hole.

 “FUCK! I’m going to come,” Edge began to stroke his own dick but Roman slapped his hand away.

 “Not yet. Get on your knees, baby,” Edge complied almost immediately. He winced when he felt Roman’s cock slipped out of his hole. Edge got on his knees and elbows, waiting for Roman to get back in him. He almost turned to ask what was taking the younger man so long when a black metal rod was suddenly placed in between his lips. He did not even realize Roman brought that piece of metal with him.

 Roman carefully tugged at the metal rod, causing Edge to raise his head and arch his back. Oh God. Edge whined as he tasted the metal on his tongue. The younger man did not say a word as he shoved his cock back into Edge’s hole; making the other man cried out loudly. The metal rod gag muffled nothing at all. It was hurting the corner of his lips since Roman was tugging at it quite roughly.

 “You like that, baby? You love gagging me in front of thousands of people? How about I gag you in front of them in the ring for next match, huh? Imagine how sexy you’ll look,” Roman thrust harder to emphasize his words. Edge whimpered at the image in his mind. He would not last if Roman decided to pull this move on him the next time their paths crossed in that ring.

 “Oh God. Oh God. Oh fuck I’m going to come!” Edge whined when Roman began to jerk his cock.

 “Come, babe,” The older man cried out as he shot out strings of cum, spraying the wooden bench below him. Edge shuddered at the pleasure that coursed through his body. Roman thrust few more times before he shot his come inside of the older man. Warm fluid painting his wall white, and he even felt some was starting to leak as Roman slipped his cock out.

 The Samoan threw the metal rod back inside Edge’s bag, the older man gapped at him. It was as if Roman could read his mind, the Samoan answered it for him.

 “I put it inside your bag when you were busy chit chatting with the others earlier. I thought you would have noticed but hey, it’s your lucky day. I’ve always wanted to try it on you,”

 “You’re an asshole,” Edge muttered as he gathered his things and continued to pack. Then he realized that he was still naked and his fresh clothes were still neatly folded next to his bag pack. “I’m going to take another shower,” Edge sighed.

 “I’ll come with it you. I haven’t taken mine, and I wanted to join you earlier, but you went in first,” Roman invited himself. Before Edge could even say anything about it, the younger man rested his hand on the blonde’s face, his thumb carefully traced the corner of his lips.

 “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Sorry, I should have asked-“ The Tribal Chief did not get to finish his sentence before his lover moved in for a longer and passionate kiss. Edge pulled away first. He had a smile on his handsome face.

 “I’m okay. It didn’t hurt. It was hot, and we should it again sometimes. Not in front of the crowd, no. I want this moment to be ours,” The older man kissed his lover’s cheek before he walked into one of the stalls he had used to shower earlier, pulling Roman with him.

 Of course, they decided to have a shower fuck. This time with Edge’s back resting against the wall, and his legs wrapped around Roman’s waist. The chief’s cock sliding in and out of him easily. When they came out of the shower room, the janitors were waiting for them outside. They did not say anything but both men were damn sure one of them had heard everything.

When they both finally reached Edge’s hotel room, Roman broke the silence. 

“Do you think they heard your slutty moan?”

“Fuck off, you bitch,” Edge threw his bag at the younger man but he easily dodged it. Roman’s laughter caused him to laugh too. It was a good night.  

[oswildin]

What’s My Name? ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader

Summary: You had a best friend, who you thought you knew everything about... Turns out you didn’t know him at all... Let alone expect him to be your friends oldest enemy.

Warnings: Possible spoilers.

**EDIT**

There’s now a PART TWO: https://oswildin.tumblr.com/post/190148897825/unlucky-in-love-dhawanmaster-x-freader-part-2

~

“Where are you going now?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, turning round to see her friend giving her a knowing look. It had been a few months since she’d started travelling with the Doctor and the fam. She loved every second of it, but she wasn’t going to let it take over her life completely. She still had to work, keep her flat, and have a social life outside of fighting aliens in space.

“Out. Is that ok?” She retorted, seeing her friend stood with folded arms before her.

“Again? You only just got back.” Her friend, Mason, raised an eyebrow.

(Y/N) had met Mason through a mutual friend on a night out. Since then they were inseparable. Well, until she started travelling with the Doctor. She had to admit she was beginning to go AWOL on her friend. She felt guilty.

“I know- but- It’s really important. Like, really really important.” She tried to explain herself, but couldn’t give too much away. He’d think she was mad if she told him the truth.

“But I came round to spend time with you!” Mason insisted, standing from his seated position on her sofa. Oh no, he was giving her the puppy dog eyes. She hated when he used them.

“I’m sorry-“ She looked at her friend sadly before her phone started to buzz. “I promise, when I get back, we will play any board game of your choosing. As long as it isn’t operation cause by god you are awful at that game.” She laughed. “It’s almost like you want to kill the patient.”

“Maybe I do.” He teased, his eyes going dark for a second before smiling. She lightly hit him on the arm before her phone once again buzzed. She answered it.

“Yes! I’m on my way!” She ended the call, sighing to herself. “I’ll see you later ok? Let yourself out!” And with that, she left her friend alone in her flat, as she ran out the door, running to where the Doctor had told her to meet.

Hours later, (Y/N) finally had arrived home. She was exhausted, and quite frankly was ready for bed. She didn’t know how the Doctor could keep up with the adventures and not need rest. She knew Yaz, Ryan and Graham felt the same as her.

“You’re back late.”

(Y/N) jumped, her hand landing on her heart as she swore to herself.

“Jesus Mason.” She switched on the light, revealing her friend sitting in the dark on her sofa as she raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here? And why are you in the dark?” She asked confused, folding her arms.

“Just thought I’d make sure you got home safely.” She rolled her eyes at his antics.

“It’s 1am.” She looked at the clock. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping. Don’t you have work tomorrow?” She countered, sitting beside him on the sofa, sprawling out as she closed her eyes for a moment.

“You look exhausted.” He commented.

“Geez, thanks.” She laughed lightly. “You do know how to make a girl feel beautiful.” She joked, as he stared at her, trying to analyse her. “I just went out with a few mates that’s all.”

“Really? So what is that on your wrist?” He nodded to the device on her left wrist as she swore under her breath. She had forgot about the perception filter device the Doctor had given her and the others on their adventure.

“Oh it’s er, the new Apple Watch.” She shrugged, pulling her jacket sleeve down to cover it. Mason shook his head at her answer, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else.

“Thought you should know, I’m going away for a bit.” He told her as she looked saddened by his words. “Going to travel to Australia. Spend some time out there. Got a mate out there. She’s coming to visit.” She couldn’t help but feel her heart sink at the ‘she’ in his sentence, but she soon recovered as she plastered on a fake smile.

“A she huh?” She teased, nudging him. “I’ve never heard of her.”

“We go way back.” He seemed to reminisce. “Grew up together. We’ve drifted over the last few years. Thought I’d get back in touch.” He wore a slight smirk as he spoke.

“Well... considering you’re going away for a bit, let’s say for old times sakes we play some Operation.” She reaches beside her sofa to grab the game.

“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to play it anymore.” He inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah well... gonna miss you annoying me with your deliberate losing.” She smiled, setting up the game.

(Y/N) felt herself wanting to tell her friend how she felt. But she couldn’t. Not with her hectic life, she couldn’t drag him into it. Nor could she possibly ruin their friendship. So instead she stayed silent, playing board games with her friend until stupid o clock in the morning.

It had been a few months since Mason had left to go away. (Y/N) missed him massively, and found herself travelling more with the Doctor to cope with the quietness of her social life. The Doctor knew about Mason, she could tell how much he meant to (Y/N). She still had texts from her friend every now again, but not much contact since, which worried her. She thought they were drifting.

On their next adventure, Yaz, (Y/N) and Ryan were going undercover as journalists, to interview Daniel Barton head of VOR, as he seemed to be prime suspect in their latest situation. However, it didn’t just stop at them questioning him, oh no, they just had to break into his office to get as much information as possible from his computer. From nearly getting caught, they ended up in an even worse situation, confronted with the aliens who wanted to take over the planet.

The trio stood in front of the creature as it reached out, grabbing (Y/N) in the process, as the glow intensified, causing the girl to disappear before her friends eyes.

“Bring her back!” Yaz ordered the alien, which of course took no notice, beginning to also reach out for her. Ryan grabbed his friend, dragging her out of the office with him as he got on the phone with the Doctor.

(Y/N) found herself alone. She looked around as she was surrounded by what appeared to be large wires. Lights ran up the wires as she called out for anyone. She felt her heart rate increase as tears welled up in her eyes. Where was she? Was she dead? Was she inside some sort of giant computer? So many questions ran through her mind... but as quickly as she arrived, she had left, transporting elsewhere.

“(Y/N)! Turn the power off in there.” She heard a familiar voice as she opened her eyes, which she hadn’t realised she’d kept shut. “(Y/N)! How are you even here?” Her eyes focused as she saw the Doctor with her hands against the glass container. Her eyes scanned the room as she spotted her other friend, Graham, and a face she didn’t expect to see.

The container lifted as she was free, the Doctor instantly hugging her friend who still seemed terrified. Not much scared her, but the thought of being all alone in such a dark, empty space scared her to the core.

She looked over the Doctor’s shoulder seeing Mason, looking somewhat concerned before he held his finger to his lips.

A moment later, the Doctor was back at trying to work out the aliens plan, whilst Mason lead her over to a chair to sit down.

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) quietly asked, sending him a confused stare. He sighed.

“Alright, shows over.” He sat opposite her. “I work for MI6.” He said bluntly causing (Y/N) to blink in shock. “I have done for a while now.”

“How- Why didn’t you tell me?!” She lightly whacked him on the arm, causing Graham to send a glance their way.

“Because I can’t talk about it! Being an agent kind of means being secretive.” He whispered, as he smirked. “Also you weren’t exactly telling me the truth about where you were running off to either.” She rolled her eyes, knowing he was right.

“Is Mason your actual name?” She inquired, swallowing the lump in her throat. He sent her a sad smile, which gave her the answer she already knew. “Yeah, I guessed not.” She laughed lightly. “I have so many questions.”

“I bet you do.” He stood up. “But we need to focus on the job at hand. Stopping whatever those creatures are.”

Whilst the pair were talking, the Doctor went to pick up Ryan and Yaz, as Graham and Mason, or O, should (Y/N) call him, had a chat. (Y/N) stood looking at all the paper work that was laying around, shaking her head in surprise at how much her friend actually knew about alien life. Small world. She thought.

“We need to pay Barton a visit.” The Doctor declared.

“Good thing he's having a party, then. We got invites.” Ryan grinned, looking proud of himself.

“Yes! Nice work, you three. Got invites for us all, have you? I'm sure I can hack a guest list.” The Doctor beamed, turning to O.

“What do you reckon, O? Fancy a trip in the box?” She nodded to the TARDIS as he began to grin.

“I really, really would.” He sounded like a happy child as (Y/N) smiles fondly at her friend.

“Be my guest.��

O walked in, taking in the TARDIS interior as (Y/N) watched from outside with everyone else.

“Shut up!” He mumbled to himself as he reappeared at the door. “Ridiculous.” He looked confused as (Y/N) laughed.

“Yeah well, get used to ridiculous.” She commented, walking towards the TARDIS. “Cause that’s the word I was use to sum up over 80% of the adventures we have.”

“Oi!” The Doctor retorted as the others smiled upon entering the ship.

They all decided they needed to change into clothing more appropriate. If they were going to crash a party, may as well look good whilst doing it.

(Y/N) decided on a deep purple velvet tux, pairing it with black heels as she put on a dark purple lipstick to correlate with her outfit. She had to admit, she hadn’t dressed up in a while. She’d never had the time or the energy to do so since travelling with the Doctor. As she exited the wardrobe, she headed back to the console, seeing everyone in their tuxedos. Her eyes landed on Mas- O, as she felt her heart skip a beat. Damn, he looked good. She’d never seen him dressed up before. O made his way over to (Y/N) after he spotted her reappear.

“You look... lovely.” He complimented quietly, not wanting the others to know they knew each other. “Never seen you dressed up like this before.”

“Not exactly had the chance over the last few months. Been a bit busy.” She commented. “Also I could say the same for you.” She smirked. “Suits you, this whole James Bond look.” She teased as he bashfully smiled.

“Right!” The Doctor exclaimed. “Let’s go crash this party!” She beamed as she pulled the lever.

The six headed into the mansion, as (Y/N) stared in awe of the size of the place.

“Barton has all this, and yet he’s still wanting the universe?” She muttered under her breath.

“Sometimes it’s never enough.” O replied, as they all split off to look for Barton, whilst of course getting distracted.

O and (Y/N) found themselves at one of the many gaming tables.

“It’s like they knew we were coming.” (Y/N) laughed. “Games are our thing.” She picked up the dice, shaking them in her hand before throwing them down the table. Everyone made noises around her as she cheered for herself, causing O to stare at her.

“Did we win?” She asked, confused by everyone staring at her weirdly.

“No.” O smirked, appreciating her enthusiasm.

“Didn't know what I was doing anyway.” She shrugged. “Im used to playing Operation.” She retorted as he smiled.

“You know what they say - lucky at dice, unlucky in love.” He commented as she raised an eyebrow. Her heart skipping a beat once more as they looked each other in the eye, (Y/N) being very conscious of how close their faces were.

“Do they really say that?” She said quietly, almost breathless.

“No.” He replied, causing her to shake her head at his antics.

“Well, I guess we should try another game then!” She exclaimed, pushing herself away from the table as O watched her admiringly.

The gang quickly ran out of the mansion as they heard Barton was getting away. They saw him enter a black car as the Doctor shook her head in defiance.

“Oh no you don’t.” She ran towards the bikes that were outside the front of the mansion. (Y/N)‘s eyes widened.

“You’re not serious, Doctor!” She shook her head running after her friend.

“Deadly serious.” She hopped on, putting on a helmet as the others followed suit.

“This is crazy.” (Y/N) shook her head, jumping on one of the motorcycles, O sitting behind her.

“Have you ever driven one of these before?” He asked, placing his helmet on.

“Would it make you feel better if I lied and said yes?” (Y/N) remarked.

“No.” O looked at her in fear.

“Then no I have never ridden a bike before.” She twisted the handle, the bike starting to volt forward. O tightened his grip on her waist, causing her heart rate to increase. She didn’t know if it was because she was scared to die, or because of the closeness the two were sharing.

The six followed the black car, before gunshots started being heard ahead. (Y/N) yelled as one bounced off her bike.

“Oh my god! We’re gonna die!” (Y/N) shouted, whilst Graham yelled in front.

“Is this always what it’s like with the Doctor?!” O shouted, holding on tight still to (Y/N).

“Believe it or not. This is one of the quiet days!” (Y/N) yelled in response, trying her hardest not to crash or get hit by a bullet.

They all managed to arrive at Barton’s destination without any injuries, surprisingly. As they all quickly jumped off of their bikes; running after the plane that was about to take off.

“Oh come on!” (Y/N) sighed, trying to keep up. “Stupid heels.” She quickly kicked them off, running barefoot after the others. O was a little behind as she saw he was struggling. “Mason come on!” She called behind, forgetting all about the fact he was an agent for the moment. She held out her hand as he grabbed it, sprinting as fast as they could towards the back of the plane. The others were cheering them on as they finally made it, O being pulled up first as he turned as helped (Y/N) up too.

“Sorry. I've never been good at sprinting.” O commented as he tried to catch his breath as they headed into the seating area of the plane.

“Never been good at sprinting?” The Doctor asked, face full of confusion.

“I was the last one in every race at school.” He continued as the Doctor shook her head.

“No, no, no. I read your file. You were a champion sprinter.” She replied as (Y/N) looked between the two before O’s face turned dark.

“Mmm.” He mumbled. “Got me. Well done.” He said lowly, causing everyone to look confused. He stared at the Doctor with dark eyes as (Y/N) suddenly felt frightened by her friends gaze.

“What's going on, Doc?” Graham asked, sitting in one of the seats.

“I don't know.” She responded truthfully, as (Y/N) started to get a sickening feeling to her stomach.

“You'd best take a look out of the window.” O told them as everyone glanced out the right side, seeing his house flying outside the window.

“How's your house out there?” Ryan asked, looking back and forth between the window and O.

“Bit Wicked Witch of the West, but you get the gist. Maybe.” He had his back to the gang as he furrowed his brows. “Maybe not.” Everyone looked on confused, as he turned back towards them all, sparing a glance at (Y/N) as she looked frightened. “Oh, come on, Doctor, catch up. You can do it.”

“Ohh!” The Doctor seemed to have a realisation as her expression turned to pure shock.

“That's... that's my name, and that is why I chose it.” O laughed. “So satisfying.” He clapped his hands together. “Doctor, I did say look for the spymaster. Or should I say spy... Master?” (Y/N) couldn’t describe it he suddenly looked menacing. It sent a chill down her spine. “Hi.” He waved to the Doctor as she shook her head.

“You can't be.”

“Oh, I can be. I very much am.” He walked towards her.

“So what's going on, then? He's not really O?” Ryan asked, brows furrowed, finding it hard to follow.

“I'm her best enemy.” He chuckled lightly as he smiled at them all. “Call me Master.“ He looked over to (Y/N) who looked hurt. Betrayed. Confused. “Not O. Not Mason.” The Doctor looked at (Y/N) as she gasped slightly at the admission. “Master.”

“You were Mason.” The Doctor looked at (Y/N).

“So you... You tricked me?! Twice?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, hurt in her voice as tears welled in her eyes. The Master laughed manically, clapping his hands.

“I know! Isn’t it brilliant!” He laughed madly, causing (Y/N) to recoil.

“Why?” The Doctor questioned.

“To get close to you, of course.” He said casually. “Thought that was obvious.” He smirked. “And it was so easy.” He smiled. “She didn’t suspect a thing! Don’t know if it’s stupid or just... endearing how trust worthy she is.” (Y/N) felt like time slowed down, like her world was crashing down around her.

“Leave her alone!” Ryan exclaimed, as the Master laughed lightly.

“And what are you gonna do? Huh? Cause I control everything.” He breathed out dramatically after his sentence.

“Why?” (Y/N) finally spoke again. “Why me?”

“Cause it’s a game... and you like those, don’t you?” He gave her an almost soft look. “Humans. So simple. So easy to please.” She let a tear fall. “But it’s not over yet!” He shook his head. “Oh no!” He clapped his hands together before revealing Barton was no longer in the cockpit. “Cause you have roughly 50 seconds before you all die.” He paused. “But let’s play a game, shall we?” The Doctor tried to figure out what to do, her mind racing as the others seemed to begin to panic. (Y/N) stared up at the man she once called her friend, the man she adored deeply, the man she had grown to love.

“If you can answer this right, you get to survive.” He looked down at (Y/N). “What’s my name?”

(Y/N) paused, looking at the others in confusion, before glancing at the Doctor.

“No help from the others! You can’t call a friend!” He exclaimed as she jumped, looking back at him.

“What’s my name?”

(Y/N) blinked as she looked away from the man, looking down at her hands in her lap.

“Master.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Master.” She said louder as the others felt their panic rising.

“Is that your final answer?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Just stop this! Let me and my friends go.” He smiled bitterly at her.

“I never said I’d let them go.” He furrowed his brows as she felt her heart drop. He grabbed her arm, pulling her up with him.

“One last thing Doctor! Before you die!” He got close to her face, the cabin blowing up as the plane began to crash. “Everything you think you know, is a lie.”

He stood back up, pulling (Y/N) which him as he went towards the back of the plane, watching as the chaos unfolded. He laughed as he teleported off the plane with (Y/N) as she tried to shout for the Doctor.

[procrastination-queenie]

Only You (Non-Idol Jungkook x Reader)

Note: 

Any gifs included are not mine.

This story is based on the movie “Only You” (1994)

Summary: Jungkook is Damon Bradley...Or isn’t he?

          LOVE .... hmmm !  It’s really weird! How it can push us to do great things, stupid they maybe but great! Which is why y/n was now boarding a plane from y/c (your country) to Venice, Italy in a mission to find the love of her life; even though, her wedding is to take place in a few days! Weird, right? And Stupid,too but to her ... it was great.

          Let me take you back to where it all started. 12 years ago from this exact moment, an 11 years old y/n was sitting in the dark and ice cold livingroom with her brother Larry playing Ouija with one question lingering her mind .... Who is my soulmate?.

          “Stop it.” She said hissing at her older brother. “I am not doing anything!” Larry said defending himself from y/n’s indirect accusation that he was moving the wooden piece, with a magnifying glass in the middle of it. “yes, you are!” now angered that Larry is trying to trick her, so they can move on to the next question. “No, I am not.” 

          There was nothing to do at this time of the night, specially with this kind of weather outside as it was raining cats and dogs. Well, of course there is always something to be done in the house, but with the level of excitement the kids needed, it seemed as if there was nothing exciting enough to do, except probably try and mess around with the hidden creatures that loomed this world, asking them questions about the future. Yup sounds like the kind of thing to do on a rainy night like this and unbearable silence looming all over the house; despite, horror movies advising against such doings.

          Suddenly .... a scream of excitement emitted from y/n as the wooden piece moved (or should I say that the spirit which was present did so) hers and her brother’s hand pointing at the answer to her question. “Huh! it’s spelling the name. I have to write it down.” Her brother not really a believer in fairy tails, love stories or any bullshit about the supernatural world, rolled his eyes at his pathetic sister, who is the total opposite of him, wanting to get it over with as she was the one who forced him to play in the first place. 

          D   A   M   O   N     B   R   A   D   L   E   Y   was scattered in a messy handwriting in a small rectangular notebook with pink and purple ponies on it’s cover fitting to the age of its owner. “Damon Bradley”  y/n whispered the name with such delicacy as if it was some sort of spell and all of a sudden the owner of this name would appear in front of her out of nowhere .... just like the fairytales. Of course the weather outside did not intend to pick up and move their house’s curtains to dance an angry and violent dance, giving y/n the feeling that whatever powers controlled this earth were agreeing to the answer as if telling her “Yes, yes my dear. Damon Bradley is your soulmate.” Of course I don’t need to tell you that y/n as a romantic person was taking all of this as some sort of sign, and it was only adding on to her beliefs of the fairy god mothers and the existence of creatures like Tinker Bell and Captain Hook.

          “ But how are you going to know that it’s him? You can pass him by down the street and go on with your life never knowing that it was him.” A glitch sound can be heard inside y/n’s head as her brother tried to Pop her bubble and pause the video playing inside her head. Not really phased by her brother’s “pessimistic attitude” she answered him back confidently “I’ll just know, and you should know it too when you meet yours.” As if born with the instinct of knowing one’s soulmate upon seeing them, y/n’s answer was based on such notion. Needless to say that it was fueled by soulmates bullshit that she has read about from God knows where on a Friday night with her friends over the phone, whom only encouraged the idea among eachother more and more. With nothing else to say upon the matter, her brother, who was trying not to show a cringe on his face for hearing such nonsense, moved on to the next question trying to forget what just happened .....

          A few months later after the Ouija incident. Unlike that night, it was already summer time, school was over and almost every kid in town was out enjoying the summer-y breeze during the night, and it was no different to y/n and Larry who were both out with their friends visiting a fair that was set up by the beginning of the summer.

          SPLASH .... “LARRY!” y/n’s scream could be heard from the top of the Ferris wheel on which her brother along with his friends were laughing so hard at the fact that y/n and her friends were going to be hit by a water balloon but missed. “LARRY STOP IT OR I SWEAR MUM WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS.” (Draco Mulfoy reacted love). Too engrossed in giving Larry a piece of her mind, y/n did not stop shouting until her back hit something ... or someone. Turning around she was faced by a tough looking women, probably in her fifties, tan skin, wide brown eyes, which were highlighted by a strong black eyeliner, and a nose piercing to complete her gipsy look. 

          “NEXT....” The gipsy shouted almost giving y/n a glare for colliding into her. Y/n looked up to see the words FORTUNE TELLER hung up on the mysterious looking tent which, in y/n’s opinion, looked as if it hid a whole different world inside it’s small form. Looking down at the entrance again, the gipsy was nowhere to be found. “I am gonna go.” y/n said turning to her friends. Katie, one of y/n’s friends and also happens to be not a huge believer in fortune telling, rolled her eyes at y/n. “It won’t take long.” y/n said trying to convince Katie. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”  Katie said not believing her but agreeing to wait for her anyway.

          Y/n entered the tent to be welcomed by darkness except the light that came from a crystal ball centered on a table in the middle of the tent. Moving towards the “guiding light” of the crystal ball that she believed would definitely lead her to some kind of big discovery; y/n was brought out of her daze when the gispy spoke with her coarse yet very capturing and mysterious voice. “What do you want to know?”

          Y/n looked up to find the gipsy’s face looming above the crystal ball with her eyes digging a hole in y/n’s face. “ Anything about my future, but I don’t want to know anything bad, if that’s okay!” y/n said sitting back in her chair, trying to distance herself from the lady’s piercing gaze. The fortune teller nodded rolling her eyes with a look of boredom. “Perhaps my love life...” y/n said specifying what she wanted to know about exactly with the name Damon Bradley lingering in the back of her mind.The fortune teller rolled her eyes, of course almost every girl that entered this tent was curious about her love life. Disappointed about the empty minds of the girls nowadays, she huffed raising her hands moving them over the crystal ball and moving her fingers to a weird rhythm while humming. While fishing for an answer, y/n kept looking around the tent with the feeling that it might swallow her into another world any moment now. “I am getting a name.” upon hearing this y/n immediately turned her head towards the gipsy and leaning over the table, more interested than ever. “David... no Daniel... no no no it’s .... “ y/n breath itched as she became more anxious by the second.

          “It’s Damon .... Damon Bradley.” The gipsy said opening her wide eyes and staring at y/n as if looking into her soul with a small smile drawn on the side of her lips. Gasping loudly while abruptly standing up almost knocking up the crystal ball on which the gipsy had her hands on, in fear of it breaking because of the foolish girl. “Damon Bradley ...” uttering his name in the same way she did on that rainy night, she quickly turned to leave so that she can tell Katie when suddenly she was pulled back by the lady who was starting to get angry. “Two dollars for the fortune telling.” y/n quickly fished out two dollars from her bag, giving it to the gipsy and ready to leave when yet she found herself being pulled back again. “Listen, dear ... no matter what, it is up to you; you are the one who decides your own future.” y/n looked at the woman as if she had grown a second pair of eyes on her face; she had only one thing on her mind and that was DAMON fuckin’ BRADLEY.  The gipsy, knowing exactly what’s going on in y/n’s mind, had a poker face with wide eyes rolling because obviously it was futile to try and knock some sense into the girls’ minds these days and tell them that love is not everything! Sighing in surrender the gipsy shooed y/n as if she was some kind of animal that she got frustrated with for not understanding her.

          Now fast forward those 12 years, exactly 10 days before the wedding. Now y/n is a grown up 23 years old woman, independent, has an apartment of her own and with the job of ... guess what? Yup there you’ve guessed it, an English literature teacher; it is no surprise since having such romantic thoughts and beliefs would only lead her to fall love with anything artistic that could fuel these thoughts and beliefs more; therefore, she ended up teaching what she loves the most .... literature.

          Y/n was now sat on the floor in her apartment in her future mother-in-law’s wedding dress with one sentence only ringing in her head over and over again. “Y/n dear, I want you to have this.” opening the huge white box to find inside said dress of which skirt is now pooling around y/n as she buttoned the glove of her left hand “I wore it, my daughter wore, and I want you to wear it,too. You can’t imagine how I felt when Dwayne said you’d wear it.” y/n couldn’t get her mother-in-law’s triumphant smile out of her head, also the fact that her so called fiance forget to mention this one little tini-tiny information that the dress that almost every girl in the entire world dreams of for almost most of their entire lives imagining it, collecting magazines, searching and maybe even writing notes on which fabric they should wear.... would simply be his mother’s dress. Well, that and many other things that she felt herself get infuriated everytime she thought about it; for example, how after he thought that their argument about the dress is over and her uncle was coming towards them to get a picture, he tried to “fix” her hair by putting a strand of her hair behind her ear; even though she argued that it’s supposed to look like that, he ignored her completely and put the strand behind her ear because to him that’s not a proper hairstyle! The audacity of this man! Whom she’s marrying after 10 days, might I add!!!

          “I am here.” Katie her best friend said as she entered y/n’s apartment. Katie is now married to the love of her life which turned out to be y/n’s brother with 2 children. Y/n thought it great to have her best friend as her sister-in-law, but honestly she just doesn’t know what her best friend saw in that moron of a man which she calls her brother. “DON’T LOOK!” y/n screamed, she didn’t want Katie to see her,yet; well not until she finally got up, perfected her pose in that dress to add a dramatic effect. “You can look now.” poor Katie, who almost freaked out when y/n screamed at her, turned around and immediately her eyes were tearing up out of happiness for her best friend. “Wooow” she said covering her nose and mouth. “ Great isn’t it ... I thought it romantic, you know? To wear the dress of the woman who bore your husband.” y/n said walking around in it trying to get the feel of it! “I mean maybe my daughter would wear it someday...or not!” standing in front of the mirror while Katie put on her veil; she felt as if she was trying to convince herself to wear the dress, when deep down she didn’t want to have anything to do with that dress. “If I had this dress, I would love to give it to someone!” Katie disagreed while holding the tail of the veil and followed y/n around as she practiced her “walk down the aisle” and humming it’s entry music that you would her in any wedding.

          Y/n huffed in annoyance as she sat on the nearest chair; Katie knowing exactly what she’s thinking said “Oh, don’t worry. We can fix it.” leaving the veil’s tail and reaching for the box that contained all the knitting and sewing devices. “Life is not like it is in the movies, right?” y/n said as she drank from her coke can.”No, it’s not” Katie replied sternly. “Even though everyone keeps on telling you so from the day you were born, how dreams would become real, the good guy always wins and everyone lives happily ever after... all that crap, then one day you just wake up and realise that your life should be .... different.”  Katie said sniffing trying so hard to hide the tears that would tell y/n immediately that there’s something going on between her and Larry, but of course y/n felt that days before this moment, she just knows Katie like the back of her hand. “Kate what’s wrong?” y/n said leaning forward to put her hand on Katie’s making Katie look at her and reveal her teary eyes. “I don’t know! Y/n there’s something I’ve got to tell you.” Katie said letting her tears fall freely now. “What?” y/n said looking sincerely at her knowing that sometimes her brother can be a handful and hard to deal with. “ Larry and I are....” Katie was interrupted by y/n’s telephone ringing. Y/n sighed still looking at Katie. “I have to answer this, Dwayne is having all his calls forwarded here.” y/n said apologetically. Katie nodded wiping her tears. 

          “Hello!” y/n said rolling the long veil around her hand so not to trip over it. “Dr. Dwayne Johnson please!” the voice said over the phone. “Oh, he’s not here at the moment. He’s doing an emergency surgery right now. can I take a message?”

“uhm, who’s this?” 

“This is y/n his fiancee, who’s this?” by now y/n was tossing and turning around herself searching for her notebook to take the message, making the phone’s wire snake around her restricting her movement.

“Oh, hi. I am his highschool buddy. Congratulations on your wedding!” y/n nodded her head as if the speaker on the other line can see her, now having her notebook and a pen in her hands ready to take the speaker’s message.

“Thanks” she said rolling her eyes at Katie which she instantly understood that someone on the line was congratulating her on the wedding.

“Well, I am gonna be in Europe, so I am gonna miss the wedding.” The speaker said apologetically.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” y/n said fighting the veil that has now eaten her left arm. “Be careful!” Katie whispered trying to get the veil as y/n was not making it easier for herself or Katie by trying to move with the wire, which was almost suffocating her now, towards the table to be able to write down in the notebook properly.

“What’s your name?” she asked as Katie pulled the veil from her head only to be stopped abruptly because the tail was stuck to the dress by the wire like a belt.

“I can hardly hear you, can you spell it.” y/n raised her voice a little as the signal weakened and she wasn’t able to her the speaker’s name.

“D... A... M

“Yes..” writing down the first three letters, she waited to hear the rest.

“.... O... N    B... R... A” y/n hummed for him to go on.

“... D...L.... E...Y”. “Uhaa” y/n sighed triumphantly as she managed to write it down while almost being squeezed by the wire, when suddenly ....”What the...?” she whispered as her brain freaked out alarming her of that name. 

           Gasping loudly, the phone dropped as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What?” Katie asked worriedly.

“Hello, are you okay?”

“Hello!” 

“What’s going on?” Katie was almost going to put a hand on y/n’s shoulder when she suddenly screamed “IT’S HIM!”. Frantically she reached for the phone gasping for air as if she has ran the flight of stairs ten times non-stop. 

“DAMON BRADLEY!” she asked wanting to make sure that she heard him correctly. Katie hearing that name racked through her brain in hopes of finding any importance to why she should remember it.

“Yeah!!!” The poor guy now freaking out from her tone.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” she asked holding unto Katie in case she might pass out any moment now.

“I am at the airport, why?" He asked wondering why his whereabouts might be of any importance to his high school buddy’s fiancee.

          Gasping again loud, both of the girls; y/n for the fact that her soulmate might leave without reaching out to him and missing her chance of maybe getting to know him, and Katie because all of a sudden the name DAMON BRADLEY written in bulbes had lit up, lighting with it all the memories of young y/n and Katie spending hours on their telephones trying to guess whether y/n might end up meeting him for real or not?

“W- W- WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” 

“I am on my way to Venice.” Again, the poor guy freaked out when her heard her moan over the phone as if “Venice” is some sort of a new ice-cream flavour that she had tried and is expressing her delight of tasting it.

“Oooooh I loooovvee Venice.” y/n said in awe not able to control herself over the idea of maybe running away with him and where to? ... To Venice. What a terrific idea, again crazy but terrific!

Not really knowing how to answer back. Mr. Damon Bradley had said that he’s gotta run now and maybe they’ll talk about it when they all get together.

“But wait I....” 

too late now since Damon Bradley hung up the phone, proceeding on his way to the plan that would take him to Venice.

P.s : I am so sorry Jungkook did not appear in this chapter, but I promise he will appear ..... eventually!😂💖

But please, don’t hesitate to tell me your opinion.🌻✨

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 8 - The Future In An Instant Seattle Washington, February 13 1988

(Andi is 18, Chris is 23)

ANDI: A couple of hours later, everyone had decided to move the party back to Andy’s place. I found the perfect spot on Andy’s couch, right in the corner where I felt the most comfortable, While Chris sat next to me sipping on his Jack Daniels. Everyone else was pretty much everywhere laughing and drinking, bringing out their guitars and what not and playing random cover tunes.

“I had no idea you lived with Andy, I’ve never seen you any time I’ve been over here with Xana,” I say taking a sip of my Jack and Coke.

“I just got back from touring with the band so you wouldn’t have… it’s actually the first time I’d been home since August,” Chris says leaning back on the couch and resting his leg across his knee.

“Oh, well… welcome home,” I smile, feeling awkward. I’m so nervous and Chris is so amazingly gorgeous that I just end up freezing up and can’t think of anything to say.

“Fuck, I can’t believe that… this is happening, I mean I remember you saying where we would meet and when but when it actually happens it’s just…wow,” Chris says flipping his curls out of his face and turning towards me more, his gorgeous blue eyes flicking over my body and then landing at mine.

“Chris?”

“I mean, it’s been so long since I saw you last. We were in my room and just hanging out and you obviously ended up, you know leaving and - ”

“Chris?”

“I just want to tell you everything - ”

“-Chris?” I interrupt, trying to get him to focus.

“Yea?” He asks, slightly worried.

“Can we just… maybe back it up a little bit and pretend that you don’t know me? Like, this is our actual first meeting… maybe?” I ask, shifting a little and pushing my curls behind my ear, feeling bad but I’m so overwhelmed that I’m doing everything that I can to not stress out and suddenly have a time slip episode with everyone around.

“Yea… yea sure, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Chris furrows his brow and looks down at himself then back to me.

“No, no it’s not that I’m uncomfortable, I mean… it’s you. What girl wouldn’t be excited that Chris Cornell is talking to her? It’s just… no one knows that I -”

“Time slip?” he takes a sip of his drink

“Yea… well you apparently know already which is seriously messing with my head a little bit but… you’re not making me uncomfortable at all,” I re-assure him as I move a little closer and a coy smile spreads across those amazing pouty lips of his.

“I actually feel quite comfortable with you… which is weird, because I’m the queen of shyness,” I giggle and he chuckles with me.

“Yea, normally I’m pretty shy myself, but with you I don’t feel that way at all,” He says with that coy smile again.

“You? Shy? I kind of don’t believe that… I mean have you seen yourself on stage?” I say and he chuckles again.

“Yea, but that’s different. Performing is a totally different experience than just being yourself in a room full of people, and I usually can’t see too far in front of the stage because of all the bright lights, so it pretty much feels like it’s just me with the guys anyways,” He explains.

“Yea, I get that… performing is kinda like that for me too, but I was never really good at getting up in front of people. When I had to audition for Seattle University to get into their music program, holy fuck, I thought I was going to throw up everywhere. But in a larger group of people I’m not as bad… it’s weird,” I say and take a sip of my drink.

“Nah it isn’t weird… it’s just how us musicians work, I guess,” He says and takes a sip of his drink. I never really thought of myself as a musician before so it almost struck me a little weird to hear that from him.

“So, you’ve seen us play before?” He asks.

“Well yes and no… I haven’t ever seen you live live, I just saw like a clip on T.V from the local station or something, they were doing a local band segment… and it was just a quick clip of you, but I picked up your EP downtown at Easy Street Records though…” I explain and take another sip.

“Really? Well… what d'ya think?” He asks a little slyly, moving just a little closer, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“I like it. It’s got um… it’s really Sabbath sounding which I fucking love. ‘Little Joe’ is a little… um… different…” I hesitate, not quite sure how to explain it.

“It’s weird, I know,” Chris says taking the last sip of his drink and setting the empty glass on the small side table. “We were just fucking around with that song. We just wanted to break up the EP a little bit,” I take a sip. I actually like the song, it’s just that it’s so out of place on the album, but I get what he means about breaking up the album a bit.

“You um… you wanna see my room?” He asks cutely suddenly shy, looking at his Doc Marten boot, playing with the laces. I take the last sip of my drink and lean forward to set it down on the table in front of us while everyone around us continues to laugh and play.

“Sure,” I say sweetly, feeling the alcohol give me some sort of confidence that I wouldn’t otherwise have.

Man, Xana was right.

I follow behind him out of the living room and down the long hallway, his curls swaying with his movements, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as his gorgeous 6 foot 2 frame leads the way. I glance back for a moment to see Xana giving me a wink and a smile from the chair she was sitting in with Andy. I then turn back and watch Chris as we make our way down to the end of the hallway.

Chris opens the door on the left and gestures for me to go inside first. I give him a cute smile and head inside finding on the left side of the room, his bed and a dresser, a bookshelf filled with books and a T.V and stereo combo on the opposite side. A crate of all his records on the floor beside the stereo, a chair that had a few of his clothes strewn all over, some posters of The Beatles, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd and Aerosmith and a stack of amps on the right side of the room, with his guitars - 3 to be exact - a Marten acoustic, a black Fender Strat with a white pick guard and a beautiful dark cherry burst Gibson Les Paul Standard. As you know I was immediately drawn to the guitars of course.

“Wow… Is that the 1960 model?” I ask excitedly as I walk right over to the dark cherry burst Gibson.

“Uh huh…” He says with a smile as he watches me admire it.

“I can tell just by the color… they went from that golden sun look the year before to more of a redish finish,” I explain, feeling my nerdiness for guitars coming out. I squat down as best I could in my short little mini dress, flipping my curls out of my face to get a closer look.

“I think the pickups are different too… um… can I?” I glance back at Chris who hasn’t left the door frame with the sweetest smile spread across his lips.

“Sure,” He gestures for me to go ahead. I bite my bottom lip in excitement as I situate myself on the floor - still being mindful of my dress of course - I slide off my leather jacket, setting it down beside me and carefully take his guitar off the stand and let it rest on my lap.

“Um, wait,” He says and quickly moves over to plug in the patch cord for me and flips on the amp adjusting the levels a bit. I close my eyes for a moment and then I just start to play. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was playing but I was just playing around with the E scale, improvising and just letting the sound take over. He set the gain perfectly. Just the right amount of distortion. It’s not as warm sounding as mine but it sounds amazing. After a few moments I open my eyes and see Chris sitting in front of me, still with that same sweet smile across his lips.

“Holy, what string gauge do you use?” I giggle when I stop and shake my left hand a little.

“12’s… why does it hurt?” He chuckles.

“Just a little,” I giggle and he laughs.

“Here, let me…” He says reaching out for his guitar and I pass it over to him, pushing my curls out of my eyes. He rests it across his lap, getting into the perfect position, as his curls fall down around him, he starts to play. At first it was just some random playing much like I was doing, and then it started to change.

“Oh, darling, please believe me,
I’ll never do you no harm
Believe me when I tell you
I’ll never do you no harm… Oh, darling, if you leave me
I’ll never make it alone
Believe me when I beg you
Don’t ever leave me alone…”

His voice immediately made everything inside my body flutter like butterflies. So bluesy and full of emotion that I had never heard before. I had never felt before.

“When you told me you didn’t need me anymore
Well you know I nearly broke down and cried
When you told me you didn’t need me anymore
Well you know I nearly fell down and died Oh, darling, please believe me
I’ll never let you down
Believe me when I tell you
I’ll never… do you… no harm…”

He hangs on to the last note and then stops, a for a moment. He doesn’t look at me, though I’m completely focused on him. A few seconds tick by and he flips those beautiful curls out of his face, his silver hoop earring sparkling in the soft bedroom light and flicks his eyes to me while we could hear everyone still laughing and carrying on out in the living room. He moves his Gibson off his lap and leans to set it back on the stand and just as he did so, I couldn’t resist shifting up on my knees and moving closer while he flick his eyes back to mine, cupping his clean shaven face in both my palms and placing my lips on his.

For a moment, I could tell I caught him off guard but then he slowly started to respond, placing his hands on my hips as I slowly began to suck on his full pouty bottom lip, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip and by then I needed to deepen the kiss just a little, my tongue playing with his as my heart began to race like I never thought it could. His kiss is so new and yet so familiar, like the sort of passion between 2 people that has been building up over years of knowing each other but both afraid to make the first move. I this case I was the one to make the move because I couldn’t hold back any longer. It was incredible.

Chris then shifted a little, pulling me in closer for me to straddle him as he leans back against his bed, his hands moving down my thighs and lifting up the bottom of my already short dress even higher. As nervous as I began to feel, somehow he was able to make me feel comfortable as if we had done this before. I find myself threading my fingers through his soft thick curls as his lips move hungrily with mine.

“Chris?” I breathe when I part my lips from his for a moment and he touches his forehead to mine.

“Yea,” He exhales as he closes his eyes for a moment.

“I know I said I wanted to pretend that this is our actual first meeting but, I just want to know… are we together… In your time I mean, are we together?”He lifts his forehead from mine and looks into my eyes, a gentle smile spreading across his beautiful lips as he brushes a few curls from my face.

“Yea… well we never made anything official though. You always told me that we were together in your time, but you wouldn’t really tell me too much about us. No matter how many times I tried to get you to tell me more you wouldn’t because you didn’t want to mess up any sort of timeline by telling me the future,” He explains so sweetly. In actuality, I never really believed that, I only just tried to let things happen as they did as to lead a normal life. The only time I ever felt the need to tell someone the future was if it was a life or death situation for obvious reasons.

“So um… we know each other pretty well then?” I ask closing my eyes and touching my forehead to his.

“Uh huh… You’re my best friend. I’ve been in love with you since I was 15 years old,”

“You’re in love… with me?”

He gives me that coy smile of his and I find myself pressing my lips to his once more, intensifying the kiss. It wasn’t long before he figured out the mechanics of my dress and I realize just how long he has waited for me. *****************************************************************************************

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 11)

Gavin’s apartment Still November 18, 2038

When Daniel reached into the cage, the mice scattered into all directions. Given a PL600’s manual dexterity, it would have been easy for the android to catch as many of the tiny critters as he wanted, but he found that his fingers were moving sluggishly.

Why am I hesitating? Each mouse I take is one less to get eaten by Reed’s cat collection!

And that was exactly the problem: The mice Daniel chose would escape that fate. But only those! How should he decide who got to live out their rodent days and who would die? By cuteness? Age? Health status? An automated car would have had no problems making the “correct” decision, but for someone who had himself gotten deemed garbage not worth keeping it wasn’t that easy. After a few more attempts at weighing one tiny white furball against all the rest the deviant realized that it was no use. He just couldn’t do it. Daniel could have saved a few at least, could have made a small change for the better in the world and proven that he was more than trash. But that was deviance for you, it made you more than a computer, but in a way also less. The android was only beginning to learn how real persons were governed by forces far stronger than the acclaimed “free will”. Daniel put down the flour box Gavin had handed him and closed the lid with the breathing holes without having stored any mice in it.

“Finished already?” the detective asked.

“Uh-huh. I think I do not want mice, after all.”

Gavin shrugged noncommittally, because wanting or not wanting pet mice wasn’t something that had a strong opinion about.

“Okay, then.”

So Daniel would leave without mice, no biggie. Gavin having made that offer in the first place, however… What had he been thinking, inviting the android into his flat as if it was a friend?! Just because that thing had made a joke about Connor biting the dust!

“You’re a computer”, Gavin said through clenched teeth. “You store data, solve problems, put people out of job, that kind of thing. So if you’re that great, maybe you can tell me, why do I put up with you?”

Daniel, who himself understood well enough why he felt drawn to the detective, shrugged. It was Gavin’s brutal honesty that made Daniel feel comfortable in the man’s presence. The deviant knew beyond doubt that he was tolerated at best, so no unpleasant surprises of the John Phillips kind would drop on him. Reed not sucking up to Connor the Great and Awesome helped, too. But the other way around Daniel had no clue as to what was motivating Gavin Reed, therefore he could only shrug for a second time.

“I haven’t got the fuggiest idea, but you won’t hear me complain. The more positive human relations I can report to my parole officer, the better. - Coffee before I go?”

Gavin wordlessly slumped down on the loveseat. The cats took that as a signal to disperse and do cat things in the apartment, only the calico kitten jumped onto the small table, from where she watched Gavin with a proud owner’s expression.

Meanwhile Daniel found himself confronted with technology surpassing anything he had ever seen. Some people claimed that tea was a form of art, now Daniel concluded that coffee was a science. Fortunately just like the cats the coffee maker seemed to know what it was supposed to do if only Daniel pushed a few reasonably intimidating buttons in the correct sequence.

Gavin briefly turned his head towards the guest, then stared across the room at the opposite wall again. Eventually he gave a snort. “A machine using a machine…”

“I’m not a machine!” Daniel protested. “If you must get existential, then I am an appliance. And far more advanced than this coffee maker than your kind is different from pigs!”

It’s true, right? I mean, okay, I do not understand this thing, but I understand my own inner working even less. And why would I need to? Of the humans only a small percentage are doctors, either!

“Why don’t you have an android for the housework, by the way?”

“What part of “android hater” did you not compute?”

“Except you aren’t”, Daniel claimed while putting down the coffee. “Captain Allen is an android hater and maybe Anderson, too. I cannot quite place that man yet. You, to the contrary, are a human supremacist. That’s a subtle difference.”

“Whatever.”

A short contest between Sally and Gavin ensued, then the detective folded his hands around the cup and drew it towards his chest. The kitten turned once around itself and when Daniel drew back a chair to sit on, it retreated to the safety of the narrow space between the still heated up coffee machine and the kitchen wall.

Daniel tried lifting his new legs onto the table, but the movement wouldn’t feel natural. Although perfectly capable of executing it, Daniel couldn’t bring himself to recline in this position for long. It was a posture the street-raised detective might find comfortable, but not the distinguished upper middle class butler that was  - or had been - Daniel. So the android took down his feet again and instead slouched forward, placed his arms on the table and put his head on top of them. With a “thud” Gavin’s feet came to rest on table right next to the android’s head.

There was the smell of worn socks and coffee, the subliminal noise of some neighbor’s piano playing and a perpetual layer of cat hair that couldn’t ever get cleaned away completely. And although Daniel was processing all of those things numerically only, in their sum they were saying “home” to him, something he’d never have again. With a sigh from his artificial lungs Daniel closed his eyes and then he forgot where he was and with whom and just savored the moment. Gavin, too, felt uncannily at ease in Daniel’s presence, despite being fully aware of the fact that by now he should be fuming. That android slacking on his kitchen table wasn’t one of the inconsequential background devices, neither was it advanced enough to threaten the detective’s career. To the contrary, the simulation it ran was a mirror of Gavin’s own fears: Losing his comfortable home, getting torn from his family and being told to be of no worth. Cyberlife not only put people out of their jobs, leaving them homeless and depressed, now the deviants were filling this role, too. They were the better unemployed, homeless and depressed. Where did that leave humanity? As museum exhibits? Attractions in a zoological garden? Pets, maybe?!

“So what if I did have an android?” Gavin spoke up again. “It’s just a thing, and mine was an AX400, so nothing to brag about. They took Sophie during the Recall, good riddance I say!”

The detective’s words sharply brought back to mind that he hadn’t kicked Daniel all this time. The android’s head jerked up as the realization struck him: This wasn’t normal! Not at all! Something was afoot!

And indeed while the deviant had been resting his mind for a few precious minutes, his unlikely acquaintance had been hatching a plan.

“Still with me, killer, despite my “dead” android? Okay, listen, I’ve thought of something…”

It was common knowledge that Gavin Reed would do “anything” for a promotion. He was taking advantage of others’ work, refused to help his co-workers in any way and made them look bad to Captain Fowler in creative ways, stopping just short of sabotaging their work. All those efforts were accomplishing next to nothing, because professionally Reed already was one of the DPD’s best detectives with little room to improve. The categories he was failing in hard were personal development and teamwork. So any improvement in these areas would skyrocket Reed’s score and that was where this new android came in!

“…so if Fowler sees me pulling an Anderson by going from android hater to best buddie with one… helping a criminal reform in the process… that would go a long way towards that sweet promotion credit!”

“You know, this could work for me, too. Befriending you of all people is sure to score me my checkmark in Self Control. - But we are not really becoming friends, right? We’re only pretending!”

“You got it!”

Daniel grabbed an empty coffee mug from the counter, filled it with water and then raised it in a toast. Gavin returned the gesture, then the mugs connected and thus the deal was sealed.

They both downed the contents of their cups. It came as a small surprise to Daniel that Gavin didn’t comment on him drinking like a human. Obviously the detective was already aware of the fact that androids occasionally added cooling fluid. What else would he know that the average human saw, but never registered? Too much, probably.

“Okay, Gavin, tell me everything about your wife, kids and the in-laws! Oh, and your parents, are they still acknowledging you?”

“What makes you think I’ve got any of that?”

“You don’t?!” Daniel exclaimed, accompanied by an expression of utter incomprehension.

Until now the deviant had assumed that everyone was living in a family unit consisting of a mother, a father, one or more children and a handful of pets. Even those like the detective, or probably especially those like the detective, given the state humanity was in.

“But you’re ancient!” the deviant cried “Older than most androids have the hope to ever get! Aren’t you lonely? No? Not even a little bit?”

“There’s more to life than raising kiddos.”

“No, there isn’t! A family is the most important thing in the world! That’s why you’ve created us to help you with it! To ensure that nothing goes wrong!”

Daniel’s outburst was met with laughter first, at which the android glared back at the human.

“Heh… that’s cute. You’re… I dunno. Your outcry sounded like something they’d program a PL600 to say, but the way you uttered it? One could almost think you really believe it.”

“So, could one? Good for you! Me, I’m coming to doubt I’m really alive. I’ve broken free from Cyberlife, only to get controlled by strange, invisible crap that is somehow also me.”

“Having one of those days of the month, huh? Need a tampon, maybe?”

“Oh, stuff a sock in it!”

“Well, yes, that would be the low-cost alternative. Also fully sustainable, good for the environment.”

There was a moment of silence, then Gavin laughed out loud at his own joke, while Daniel shook his head, but with a smile. It was a first for him. None of the humans he actually liked had ever shared mirth like that with the android. John and Caroline, in retrospect, had laughed at the android, not with him, around Emma everything had to be kept family-friendly, naturally, with the Rasoya Daniel was performing a polite eggshell dance to not lose their support and if he threw insults at Connor he meant everything he said. Only around Gavin Daniel felt comfortable enough to really let go, because with one who wasn’t a friend and never would be, there was no fear to destroy something.

“I know I’m going to rue asking this, but if a family isn’t what you’re about, then what exactly is your life like?”

“I…”

And that was when the doorbell rang.

“Answer the damn door, So…” Gavin started, then cursed under his breath.

“Sorry, no more Sophie”, Daniel sneered, while the human went to search the sofa for his smartphone. “Good riddance, was it?”

Gavin opened the phone app that would show him the picture the door’s security camera was seeing.

“It’s Tina” he announced, before unlocking the door remotely. “Time to acid test our scheme, my “friend”!”

(To be continued)

[potatowithimagination]

Those Red Lips

Summary: Sebastian has weakness for your red lipstick

Warnings: Implied smut

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1,5k

A/N: English is not my first language, so I’m really sorry if there’s any grammatical errors. Feedback is always appreciated :)

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You and Sebastian have been dating for three months now, but both of you agreed to keep your relationship private. Not many of your friends knew about this, only the closest ones. Even some of them, like Chace, knew about your relationship by accident, when he came to Sebastian’s apartment without notice, while you were there, wearing Seb’s comfy shirt.

The perks of keeping your relationship private? You couldn't hang out in public a lot. Like today, for example, Seb would be out with his friends, probably drink a shot or two of tequila, and you couldn’t be there.

‘You sure you don’t want to join us, Y/N?’ Chace, who happened to sit down comfortably in your and Seb’s couch asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.

‘Nah, you guys have fun! I have rehearsal tonight, anyway. Just don’t get him too drunk.’ You said jokingly, leaned your body to your boyfriend’s arm while he caressed your hair. Seb just threw his head back and laughed at your words. Your job as a vocalist in a band required you to do rehearsal and practice from time to time, especially if you were about to go on tour.

When it was the time for you to go to the rehearsal, you got up from the couch, with Seb followed you from behind and walked you to the door. ‘Good luck, Babe. You’re gonna rock this tour, I know it.’ He said while gave you his best smile. Gosh, you felt like you’d melt right here right now. He hugged you tightly and grabbed your chin to kiss your lips softly.

‘Thanks, Babe. Have fun tonight, okay? I’ll grab dinner with my bandmates after we done practice, so you can eat all those boxes of pizza.’ You grinned and captured his lips with yours one more time before walked out of the door.

The rehearsal went well and super fun tonight. You’ve done sorting the song list you would play and set the schedule for the next tour that will happen in a month. You and your bandmates eat some dinner, then decided that the night’s still young, so you went to a bar to hang out. Your friends from other band who happened to be in town for their tour would join and meet you there.

You entered the bar and ordered your drink, about to took it to a booth when you saw a group of people in the table to your right. And there he was. Sebastian and his friends, sat gracefully, while sharing stories and jokes that made them laughed hard. You had no idea if he was about to go to this bar, otherwise you would’ve suggested another place, for the sake of his privacy. Chace saw you first, and nudged his elbow to Sebastian’s side, nodded his head to your direction. Seb’s eyes went wide as he saw you. You waved to him and smiled hesitantly.

His other friends noticed and asked him loudly, ‘Who’s that, Seb?’ followed with ‘She’s cute. Why don’t you introduce her to us.’ Cute, huh? All your life you’ve been called that a lot, probably because of your tiny figure. Sometimes you wanted to be called ‘hot’ instead of ‘cute’, and you knew exactly how to do it.

You decided that it would be fun to tease him a little, so you walked to Seb’s table and his eyes screamed in panic. You hugged him and Chace lightly, and shook the other’s hands. ‘Uh..this is Y/N, guys, she’s uh..a good friend of mine.’ Seb said. You raised your eyebrows when you heard the word friend.

‘Riiiight, I’m his friend.’ You said with a smirk. You weren’t angry, not at all, because you understood what it costs if they knew that you were more than that. But your mood to tease him increased a little. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, my friends are waiting for me in the next table.’

But instead of sitting in your booth, you just put your drink down on the table and went to the ladies room instead. You pulled out your weapon. The one you knew so well could make Sebastian weak, and made you look hot instead of cute. Your deep red lipstick. You put it on and looked at your reflection in the mirror, then stepped out of door with a new confidence.

When you reached your booth, you saw that your other friends have arrived. You gave them a hug and they followed the gesture, added kisses to your cheeks. You glared at Seb’s direction and notice that his eyes went wide once again, but this time filled with lust. At that moment you knew you’ve won. Now Sebastian’s eyes would have a hard time leaving your face, and he hated it. No, not really. He loved it, actually.

You laughed at your friend’s joke and sipped your drink when you felt your phone buzzed. You checked it out and saw a text from the one and only Sebastian Stan. You smirked even before you opened it, knowing that your plan went well.

You really know how to tease me, aren’t you, Doll? It said.

Do you have fun tonight? You replayed, ignored his question completely and put down your phone. You looked at him and notice that he already stared at you intensely while sipping his drink. God, he’s so sexy when he did that.

‘So, Y/N, are you still single now?’ one of your friends asked, forced you to take off your eyes from your boyfriend and looked at them instead.

‘No…not really.’ You answer, sipped you drink again nervously.

‘Wait, you’re back with Daniel?’ he asked with a worry expression in his face. Daniel is your latest ex. He cheated on you with his co-worker and you took it hard. Everybody in your friend cycle knew this fact.

‘Hell no! he’s an asshole, why would I get back with him?’ you answered immediately.

‘Who is it then, Little Vampire?’ You cringed at the nickname they gave you when actually you kinda like it. You just acted like you didn’t. They started using that nickname a long time ago, guess why? Because of your love for red lipstick. They said it looked like you just drank someone’s blood, but you just didn’t care.

‘It won’t be a secret if I tell you, right?’ you answered and winked.

Your friends continued to roast your love live and you just laughed it off. Stole a look at your boyfriend’s direction again, you saw that he looked at you with more intense eyes, if that’s even possible. Apparently he heard your friend’s question and it made him jealous. And both of you knew jealousy and lust was not a good mix. Or was it? It could be, right?

Sebastian’s mind was no longer with his friends. Ask him about the conversation that was going on in his table and he wouldn’t know a damn thing. He thought about one thing and one thing only. You. He typed something in his phone furiously, and then you felt your phone buzzed once again.

Bathroom. Now!

This time it’s your eyes that went wide. When you looked up at him, he’s already got up, walked down the aisle that leads to the bathroom area. You excused yourself after a minute and followed him. You smiled to yourself knowing that this was actually better then what went through your mind when you put on that red lipstick.

When you entered the bathroom, somebody grabbed your waist and pushed your body against the wall. Your body relaxed knowing that it was your boyfriend. He kissed you passionately, one hand stayed on your waist, and the other locked the door. You’re lucky that the bar was not that crowded, so the bathroom was empty.

Sebastian was a good kisser. Hell, he’s a GREAT kisser. You felt so drunk and it had nothing to do with the alcohol you drank earlier. You felt like you could do this all night. You knew you need to do this all night. His hands were still on your waists at first, but then they were everywhere. You pulled his hair and heard his moan. That sound made you wonder how he’s never been crowned as the sexiest man alive.

Sebastian pulled his lips off of yours, and you whimpered by his action. Pouting, you looked at him with confusion. Your expression made him smirk, and said, ‘It’s not fun to be teased, right, Doll?’

He got his hands off your body and you almost screamed in frustration. You decided to take an action, about to grab his body, but he was faster. He took your hand in his and leaned down, whispered to your ear, ‘Put on your red lipstick! I want to hear you scream out my name with those sexy lips.’ Oh if that didn’t turn you on even more. 

You looked at the mirror and realized that your lipstick was already faded a little bit because of the drink you took. ‘So it really is your thing, huh? Red lips?’ you asked with a smirk, looking at him through the mirror.

‘Ssshh, just put it on and save your breath, Darling. You know you’ll need it in a minute.’ He leaned down, grabbed the stool besides both of your sides and caged your body with his.

So you did. You put it on and Seb kissed your neck during the process, made it hard for you to concentrate. His hands found your waists once again.

And let’s say, after you’ve done wearing your lipstick, your friends finally knew who you were dating now. Because, besides the name you screamed a moment before, the red stains on Sebastian’s lips and neck after you left the bathroom said it all.

[hotelsweet]

you might kill me with desire - chapter 4

it’s me! back with the fic I apparently only update when I damn well feel like it! 

ao3 link 

***

As a detective, Amy’s made habit of reminding herself that she can never know anything for sure.

Today, standing to the side of Major Crimes’ biggest press junket yet, she has changed her mind. There is one thing of which she has never been more certain.

Keith Pembroke is an asshole.

As a self-respecting woman with at least half a shred of common sense, she’s always suspected it- but standing here, now, watching him take credit for her decision to reorder Oliver Clare’s autopsy, it’s decidedly clear.

Though it’s far from the reason she works where she does, Amy will happily admit that she enjoys receiving credit for her work. Being humble is one thing, obviously, but where it’s due, there’s nothing wrong with accepting praise for your hard work. Of course, she’s been told she’s a teacher’s pet- she can be smug, proud, and hugely competitive. But this is just insanely unfair.

She watches Pembroke, sat next to the commissioner. A seemingly endless tide of camera flashes blind the air, a room full of eager eyes, and he’s lapping it up- he’s not even smirking, putting on his Serious Face, and somehow this infuriates Amy even more. He’s doing everything he can to make himself convincing, like it was him who figured out Oliver might have been murdered, when he’s actually a total asshat who’s done virtually nothing this entire case-

“Hey.”

Jake, stood next to her, smiles lowly down at her. “You’ve got crazy eyes again,” he says under his breath.

Amy stays quiet- it’s unlikely that anyone would see them talking and question it, but she’s not sure she can even bring herself to risk it.

They must have opened the floor to questions, because suddenly the room is filled with the noise of eager voices competing to make themselves heard.

“I’m fine,” she says calmly to Jake, smiling politely, while she has the chance.

She’s not fine. She’s angry, confused, and determined to find out who hurt Oliver Clare. If it’s not torture enough having to stand here and watch the Vulture take credit for her work, it’s taking too long, and she desperately wants to be working.

It’s not like she’s really in the mood to have Jake comforting her, either- since she saw that text on his phone last night, she can’t help but feel a little wound up. She knows it’s petty, especially if she’s not going to ask him about it or give him a chance to explain, but they’re finally in a kind-of good place and she doesn’t want to ruin it by bringing something unnecessary up. Anyway, it could be nothing. It is nothing. If he wanted to see someone else, he’d see someone else.

There is, of course, the possibility that he’s seeing someone at the same time as their relationship-slash-not-relationship is happening. Amy can’t bring herself to believe it, but men she’s known have done worse.

All of a sudden, everything hits her. Jake, the case, the look on Pembroke’s face- her jaw aches slightly and before she knows it she feels sick to her stomach.

“I can’t be here,” Amy whispers quickly.

“What?!” Jake hisses back, but she’s already silently making her way out of the room.

Thankfully, it’s not too hard to be quiet. If the sudden tide of voices is anything to go by, they’re taking questions. She’ll be unnoticed.

The near-empty hall she finds herself in is far cooler, and she immediately finds herself more relaxed as a result. There’s a little residual dizziness, but nothing she can’t handle- she sinks into a seat off to the side and rubs her temples in a futile attempt to slow it all down.

There’s movement from the other side of the hall, which must mean things are coming to a close. Amy wipes the small sheen of sweat from her forehead and takes a deep breath. Her head is pounding, every negative emotion possible is boiling over, and she’s just about ready to punch somebody in the throat.

“Keep going, Amy.”

There’s no real belief in the words she’s speaking to herself, but hearing it is enough to get her back on her feet and moving towards the exit. Through the doors, and into the parking lot, and into her car, and back to the office. She wonders if she should wait for Jake, then decides against it. If she’s going to work she needs to be focused, and she can’t have him in her front seat and spend the entire time wondering if that text on his phone was from a girl, or worse yet, somebody who actually mattered to him.

No. Instead of waiting for Jake, she keeps repeating the same words over and over in her head.

Keep going, Amy.

***

“Thanks for meeting me. This should be pretty… brief.”

“No worries. I just want to help.”

The young, handsome man sat in front of Jake seems oddly comfortable. Naturally confident. Surprisingly at ease, given that his boss- and his boss’s son- have just been murdered.

“We appreciate it. This shouldn’t take too long- we’re just looking over everyone we’ve already spoken to,” Jake explains, in his super-manly-and-professional-detective voice. Secretly, this voice is one of his favourite parts of his job.

“No problem. Ask away.”

Daniel Clarke may just be the most charismatic man Jake’s ever met. He’s sat opposite a cop in an interview room, and he seems as appropriately at ease as a reasonable man could be in this situation. Of course, there’s an anguished seriousness behind those impossibly blue eyes, but he’s friendly, self-assured, and instantly likable. Makes sense- he seems exactly the kind of person someone as busy and powerful as Kristoff would want to hire.

“You said last time we spoke to you that you were almost constantly in the house, working with Kristoff.”

Daniel nods, completely focused on Jake.

“What was that like, being in his home so often, rather than an office?”

“I mean,” Daniel begins, pausing to think for a moment. “I was between the house and the offices. 70/30, really. It wasn’t too intense. But when it was just Kristoff and I in the house, things definitely felt… quiet.”

“Were you ever brought into family matters?”

“Never,” Daniel replies quickly. “I drove Angelica to therapy once or twice, but that’s it. It wasn’t the closest family environment, if y’know what I mean.”

“Angelica was in therapy?”

“Is,” Daniel corrects him. “I probably shouldn’t even be saying anything.”

“Why?”

Daniel sighs, an uncomfortable look on his face, as if realising he’s dug himself a hole.

“It’s pretty hush-hush. Emilia doesn’t want it getting out. Angelica’s had some problems with alcohol and drugs over the last couple years.”

“Didn’t she graduate high school early?”

“I’d imagine that’s thanks to the Adderall.”

“I see,” Jake replies solemnly, slightly discomfited by Daniel’s smooth reply. Angelica’s just a kid, with god knows what kind of pressures going on in her life. “From what you’re telling me, you sound like a pretty integral part of this life.”

“Eh,” Daniel brushes this off, “Kristoff was a self-made millionaire. I was just a pair of helping hands.”

Jake smiles politely at his modesty.

“Did Oliver have much involvement in the company?”

Daniel grimaces.

“Kristoff and his son weren’t on the best of terms. When Oliver was at MIT, Kristoff offered him work in the… online presence of the company, if you will, since he was studying computer science. He turned it down.”

Jake nods, but finds it hard not to feel a little frustrated. He’s hearing the same thing over and over, from everyone he interviews- Kristoff and Oliver had little to no relationship, both were closed-off moody men, et cetera, et cetera. There’s a missing link in something, or someone, that’s supposed to be coming after this family.

“Is there anyone you can think of that’d want to hurt the Clare family?”

“You’ve asked me that before.” Daniel smiles wryly.

“Better safe than sorry, I guess.”

“Well, there’s plenty,” Daniel half-laughs, “but none that’d want to kill them. Business is cut-throat, but Kristoff was virtually untouchable.”

“Or so it seemed.”

“Exactly.”

“If you don’t mind,” Jake continues cautiously, “could you take me back to the night Kristoff was killed? You said you were called back to the estate in the evening. Was there anything unusual about that?”

“Oh. Sure,” Daniel agrees, clearing his throat. “I was on a date, as you know, and I got a text from Kristoff asking me to come back to the estate urgently. I have no idea what it was for. Not that it mattered in the end, obviously.”

Except it did, Jake thinks- Kristoff might have known he was going to be hurt.

“Honestly, I didn’t think much of it. I don’t get much time off, and when I do it’s not exactly unusual to be called back in. I was essentially Kristoff’s bitch,” he half-laughs.

“Huh.” Jake flicks back and forth through the file Amy’s given him on Daniel. It’s only a couple of pages- his details, original alibi, that kind of stuff. But there’s no record of a text. “Would you be able to show me the text from Kristoff?”

Fleetingly, Daniel looks a little panicked.

“Uh, yeah-”

“Don’t worry, it’s just so we have a full collection of evidence. We need everything possible to make sure whoever did this is punished. We’ll take it on the way out.”

“Sure,” he agrees.

“Great. That’s all we really need from you today.”

“Sure.” Daniel repeats himself.

Once the interview’s been tied up and the screenshots have been collected as evidence, there’s very little for Jake to do except head back up to the office. Truthfully, Amy’s taken over the bulk of the work, barely uttering a word unless it’s to do with the case- he had to convince her to let him take the interview with Daniel just so he had something to do.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about her.

The worst part is, he suspects it has something to do with him; since the night he received that text from the woman he met at the bar, she’s been… off. Not angry. Not cold. Just not quite Amy. If he thought she was intense about work before, he’s certainly coming to change his mind now. He wants to sit her down and tell her it was nothing, but he can barely get a word in edgeways if she’s talking to him at all.

When he reaches the office she’s leaning on one of her hands, hunched over a pile of papers so wide they’re almost falling off her desk. For the life of him he can’t even figure out what she’s looking at- but he daren’t disturb her. She doesn’t look up when he sits down at his desk, opposite her.

“I didn’t have much luck with Daniel,” he confesses, after at least a full minute of silence since he’s entered the room.

“Damn.” Amy glances up quickly to offer this one-word response, shooting him a brief, pitying look.

“Did get something new, though. I don’t know how helpful it really is.”

“What?” She doesn’t look up.

“Angelica’s in therapy.”

“Oh, I knew that. I thought I sent it to you last night.”

“No. What’ve you got there?” Jake asks after a pause lasting exactly the amount of time he feels makes it clear she’s not looking to further the conversation herself.

“Family records,” she replies absently.

“We’ve looked over those a hundred times,” he says reluctantly, conscious that this is neither helpful nor positive.

“I’m aware. I was hoping the hundred-and-first time would bring up something we haven’t seen yet.”

This time she doesn’t look at him when she says it, and now he’s sure she’s pissed off with him. He can’t be in the office while it’s like this, he decides, pulling on his jacket.

“I’m gonna get some coffee, maybe some lunch. Want anything?”

Staying away, for now, seems the best option; knowing the way their relationship is swinging back and forth right now, the icy reception could very easily be hot sex within the next twelve hours. Regardless, that vague sense of unease, of guilt, remains. They need to talk, he thinks, observing her as she twiddles a pen over her lower lip in concentration- but not right now.

“I’m good, thanks.”

He nods, instead of forcing a reply, and heads for the door.

But a loud, distinct iPhone’s ping! stops him in his tracks- for a moment, he thinks he might have left his phone on his desk, seeing as his is the only one that ever has the ringer switched on. But the noise has come from the corner, where Amy’s phone is charging on top of a filing cabinet. He’s not sure what makes him reach for it- perhaps the inviting look of curiosity that’s peeled her gaze away from her work and towards the phone.

“Who is it? Only VIP contacts have a ringtone,” Amy explains curiously, a touch of concern in her voice.

Jake can’t reply. His eyes have already found the screen, and he’s not sure he can look away. He can’t bring himself to mentally process the block of a message, only catching real buzzwords like miss you and touch and fuck and come back and what we had. Perhaps he’d be able to read this message if it weren’t for the name above it.

“Jake? Who is it?”

“It’s Teddy.” He’s almost embarrassed at how obviously thick his voice sounds when he says this. He couldn’t be more obviously affected.

“What?!” Amy springs up out of her chair and towards him, but she needn’t bother; Jake’s already holding out her phone towards her.

“So, when did that start again?” Jake forces these words through a laugh. It threatens to choke him.

“It didn’t.” She replies indignantly, staring wide-eyed at her lockscreen. “God, this is intense.”

“He really misses you.”

“Or he’s just horny. That’s a little embarrassing,” Amy grimaces, stepping past Jake as she clicks her phone shut and plugs the charger back in.

Jake can’t quite believe how easily she’s brushing over this. Amy’s about as likely to send a message that overtly sexual as she is to skip laundry day- so he’s a little surprised, to say the least, that receiving one hasn’t completely disgusted her. On the other hand is the fact that they’ve slept together several times now, not to mention the underlying romantic weirdness still lingering between them. Some part of him, however, small, feels owed an explanation.

“What’re you gonna say back?” He asks bluntly, maybe a little too late, since Amy’s already settled back into her reading.

“I…” She looks at him strangely. “I don’t know. I honestly wasn’t planning on texting back at all.”

“We both know you’re too polite to not text back.” Jake forces a smile. “C’mon, what’re you going to say?”

Amy smiles back, but it seems slightly pained- her eyes narrow and her lips part into an uncomfortable position, like she’s trying to read him on the spot.

“Jake, why do you care?”

There’s something sad in her eyes. He wonders if that’s because she pities him, or because she already regrets asking that question.

“Are you-” Jake has to steady himself for a moment, feeling that anger at their situation rise again. Every time they reach a solution they hit another wall, and it’s driving him insane. “Are you kidding me, Amy?”

She just raises her eyebrows at him, staring up at him with dark, sad eyes.

“We both have feelings for eachother. We’ve been sleeping together on and off for weeks, staying in eachother’s apartments, and I like you, Amy- obviously a message like that is gonna make me feel like crap.”

She doesn’t reply this time, just watching him. Her expression becomes more concentrated, upset transforming into red cheeks and angry eyes and ever so slightly glistening eyes.

“I mean, you just said yourself he’s a VIP contact, or whatever,” Jake continues, unable to stop the words falling out of his mouth. He can hear himself being bitter, petty, maybe even straight-up childish, but it’s been days of virtually no communication and he can feel it all spilling out in one go. “Why? Have you been talking to him?”

Amy sighs. Her eyes find another point in the room and seem to stay there for a second, before she’s back on her feet again moving over to her phone.

“First of all, Jake-” she says calmly, taking her phone down from where it’s charging- “he’s a VIP contact because he used to be my boyfriend. I guess I never turned it off. It’s the first message he’s sent in months, as you can see,” she says, holding up the screen displaying their conversation to Jake’s face, “and secondly, I think it’s pretty rich that you’re this mad.”

Instantly, the penny drops-

“You did see that text!” Jake almost laughs, incredulous. “I knew it.”

“You knew?!” Amy laughs exasperatedly. “Oh my god-”

“- I knew it. You’ve been acting weird all week!”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No, you’ve been bitter. I wish you’d have said something-”

“If you knew, you should have said something to me!” Her eyes burn into him. “I had just slept with you, I didn’t want to mess things up by bringing up something that was probably nothing.”

“That-” Jake finds himself replying too quickly, and slows himself down. “That… makes sense. I didn’t want to bring it up because it’s nothing, so… y’know…”

“If I hadn’t seen it then you’d be bringing it up for no reason at all. Right,” Amy agrees, an understanding exasperation clouding over her expression. “What was the text even about, anyway?”

“She’s this girl I met in a bar a few weeks ago. We talked, she invited me to sit with her friends, nothing happened.”

“Except for the taking her number part?”

“Yeah,” Jake admits. “I wasn’t in a great place, it was a couple days after we agreed not to sleep together again. I didn’t want to do anything with her. She knew that, I guess, but asked for my number. I never even got hers.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. We’re adults,” Amy responds, mostly unconvincingly.

There’s a moment of quiet as they look at each other.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you,” Amy’s voice is quiet. “It’s difficult, sometimes… we’re both so exhausted and stressed that we can’t really date right now, but I do care about you.”

“I care about you too,” Jake says softly. “Sorry for being such a baby.”

Amy smiles, a little amused.

“It’s okay.”

“I was just jealous. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

“… jealous?”

Amy’s got a kind of smirk on her lips. She draws her hand to her mouth, like she’s trying to stop herself.

“What? Are you laughing?” Jake smiles as he watches her.

“No! I just,” she sighs, leaning against her desk. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Jake laughs.

“Amy, I’ve been jealous of everyone you’ve dated for a solid year and a half.”

She beams.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

For a moment they just smile at eachother, and Jake feels awake for the first time all week.

“For the record,” she adds- “I was mentally planning what I’d do if I ever met her. Y’know, if you two were dating.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. It mostly included alcohol and a lot of side-eye.”

“Huh. Amy Santiago likes me enough that she’d be deliberately impolite to somebody.”

She shrugs, smiling, watching him as he makes his excuses about getting their lunch from that place they both love down the street. Jake will admit it’s tiring: they’re between not talking at all, flirting, and having sex in a matter of a week. But having her look at him like that makes him feel like he’s in the room with his first crush all over again. When it’s good, it’s so good.

He couldn’t get over her in a thousand years.

***

Amy shivers a little in the cold of the night. She’s stood outside her apartment complex holding a cardboard box filled to the brim with an assortment of total junk. It needs to go. Call this spring-cleaning.  

Unfortunately, Teddy is late.

Her eyes search the roads around her building, looking for his car. Nerves bubble within her. The relationship’s long dead, but after that text today she’s slightly worried about the kind of conversation he might try and start while he’s here. In her head she rehearses the lines she’s constructed to make this situation go by as swiftly as possible- it’s what’s best for both of us, please don’t contact me again, and the real kicker: I’m seeing someone else.

The words sound as strange in her mouth as they do in her head. Whatever it is that’s going on between her and Jake, it’s far from easy to define. As far as Amy can tell, they’re hanging in the balance somewhere between friends and lovers, and the mess of the case is limiting the communication they’re able to share. On top of that, they’re both perpetually tired, stressed, angry, and, apparently, still dealing with other people.

They’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. At the rate things are going, Amy can’t help but wonder if they’ll even make it that far- if the work becomes any more strenuous there’s a very real chance they’ll end up killing each other. Objectively, she knows they were stupid for hooking up in the first place. If they’d have waited until everything had blown over, maybe instead of all the complicated emotions currently on their side, it’d still just be a case of moderate sexual tension and teasing. There wouldn’t be entire days or weeks going by where she didn’t feel like they were friends anymore.

If they want to move forward they need to be ready as soon as it comes. And this, standing out here in the dark waiting for Teddy to come by and collect the very last of his things, is part of it. She wants to be prepared for him.

Eventually, the car she’s been waiting for comes around the corner and stops in front of her building.

Amy comes down the steps and moves towards the vehicle, which is when he opens his door. His face is steely, almost angry, the pained face of a man holding back his feelings. Some part of her senses that she’s about to hear about these feelings. In detail.

“Oh, no, it’s okay-” she stammers, in a futile attempt to stop him from leaving the car. “You don’t have to get out. I can just put these in the back.”

“We need to talk,” he says quickly. “Please.”

“Teddy.” She holds out the box, in some part just to create a necessary distance between them. “We’ve been broken up for four months. I think everything that needs to be said has been said. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t let you walk away.” He shakes his head as he says this. There’s real desperation in his eyes, Amy thinks, feeling a little guilty. “I’ve been thinking about you every single day.”

“Teddy-”

“Do you know what you mean to me, Amy?”

“I have an idea,” she mutters weakly. She’s used to this flair for the dramatic.

“You’re my future. I can’t picture my life without you in it. I’ll do whatever it takes to change, I’ll make it better than it was before-”

“You weren’t the problem, Teddy.” She breathes. “I mean… you weren’t not the problem, but I had my own issues to work through. I still do. And I’m super busy, I’m on the Clare case-”

“Which I’m so proud of, Ames-”

“- and I have feelings for somebody else.”

This stops him in his tracks.

“Who?”

“That’s not important-”

“- Amy, if this is actually goodbye…”

“It was goodbye four and a half months ago. This is me giving you your stuff back.” She looks down at the box in her hands. “Which you still haven’t taken out of my hands, by the way.”

“I have to kiss you one last time.”

Before she’s really got a chance to do anything, he’s pressing his lips against hers. Her eyes are wide open, and her first instinct is to push him off her. Unfortunately, her hands are a little full.

“Mm!” She objects against his mouth.

He pulls away, a sullen look on his face.

“You know where to find me,” he says sulkily, taking the box from her and pushing it into the passenger seat of his car.

“Sure.”

Part of her feels bad for being blunt. The other part feels like a chapter has been legitimately closed, and room’s been made for Jake. That part feels a hell of a lot better than the other one.

She stands and watches as his car pulls away from her building, her eyes following it until he’s out of sight.

The absence is a wonderful thing, if not just relaxing.

Right until she sees Jake standing across the street, looking at her with the most pain in his eyes she’s ever seen.

Maybe the exhaustion makes her feel worse, but she could swear things are coming crumbling down. Her stomach churns the second she sees him, plastic bag in hand- oh god, he brought takeout- and pure confusion in his eyes. She’s running across the street, not looking twice for traffic. She needs to explain-

“Jake-”

His name is leaving her lips over and over, because he’s walking away-

“It’s not what it looks like-” He’s not stopping. “Jake!”

He stops and turns to her. His face is eerily… blank. He just seems tired, she thinks, and she doesn’t blame him. It’s a misunderstanding, and she can fix it-

“I’m tired. I need to go home.”

“Are you gonna let me explain?” She can’t help it. She’s angry. It’s one catastrophe after another right now, and after the last ten minutes, she could really use just one of the men in her life listening to her.

“Amy… I don’t think you’re a liar.” He looks at her funnily, like he can’t find the right thing to say.

She tries to find the words to reply, but she can’t. What’s she supposed to say to that?

“So?” Is all she manages.

“I can’t deal with this. One second you’re not talking to me, the next we’re sleeping together…the next your ex-boyfriend is kissing you outside your apartment.”

“That’s not fair. I was giving him his stuff back.”

“You were right. About timing. This entire… attempt, at whatever our relationship is, has been a mess. I miss my friend. I love you, Amy” he says, like it’s nothing, and Amy’s heart drops- “but I miss things being simple.”

No matter who’s wrong or right, in any of this, the worst thing which Amy has to admit to herself is that she misses him too. Everything made sense, and now it’s in tatters. Every time they come close to fixing it, things only become worse. Her heart is swollen, a painful beating in the middle of her chest. He looks so sad, and it’s her fault.

“I miss it too.” Her voice is hoarse; talking hurts the lump in her throat, which is what makes her realise she might be about to cry.

“I want this,” he continues, his voice low, “but I want it in the right way.”

“Me too.”

And to think only minutes ago she was forcing herself not to mock Teddy for being overdramatic.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

***

The next day is hell.

There’s word around the office that things aren’t moving quick enough, and the case is being considered for the FBI instead.

Amy can’t let it happen. She’s come too far, had too much credit stolen for her work, had almost her entire relationship with Jake destroyed. She needs a lead and she needs one now.

Of course, being able to find something without wildly damaging mental strain coming first would be far too easy, so when 7pm comes and they’ve made no progress other than reinvestigating Julian, Emilia, Angelica, and Oliver for the millionth time, as well as double-checking Daniel and Greta, Amy feels like she could just about sink into the ground.

“Alright, ding-dongs.”

Yes. She’s ready now. If the ground would like to open up, now would be the perfect time.

“Keith,” Jake responds monotonously. Pembroke grimaces at the use of his first name. Amy enjoys it for approximately .1 second.

“You’ll have heard about the FBI coming in to scoop up our case.”

“It’s happening?!” Amy can hear how panicked she sounds. She doesn’t care.

“Not yet. We’ve got until Sunday.”

“For what?” Jake asks. “Are we talkin’ Solve The Entire Case, or just some evidence, or what?”

“This may sound unfamiliar to the two of you, since you’re capable of finding one about once a month, but we need a lead,” Pembroke widens his eyes, clearly irritated. “This is getting embarrassing.”

“I’d say it’d be great if we had your help, but that’s obviously a lie.”

“Pleasure as always,” he replies, ignoring Jake’s comment, and like that he’s gone.

“I wonder what he does during the day.” Amy says sadly once he’s gone. “He’s getting paid to be a jackass.”

“So was I, until I got put on this case,” Jake jokes resentfully.

Amy smiles weakly. The night before still lingers in the air. Over and over and over in her head she hears him telling her he loves her, but it doesn’t matter. Neither of them seem quite sure where they stand.

“Do you want to work tonight?” She offers, although she’d enjoy virtually anything except this. It’s a peace offering.

“I’m actually grabbing a drink with Boyle.”

“That sounds nice.”

“You’re welcome to join, if you want-”

“No, no,” Amy insists. “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna stay here for a little while.”

“Are you sure? You’ve barely slept.”

There is no plausible explanation as to how he might know this. And yet he’s completely right. Must mean the bags under her eyes are more telling of the hours she spent awake after their exchange last night than she thought.

“Now I’ve got a deadline there’s no way I’ll be able to relax at home.”

Jake nods knowingly as slings his bag over his shoulder.

“Makes sense. I’ll see you in the morning.”

In her quiet, dim corner of the office, she watches him leave. Eventually, the sound of his steps disappears and she’s left only with the soft whirring of the heater in the corner of the room. Alone.

Keep going, Amy.          

***

“I’m sorry, buddy. Sounds like you’re going through a lot. I just wish you’d have told me sooner"”

Charles looks at his best friend earnestly, patting him on the back, causing a small prang of guilt in Jake’s system. He wishes he’d told him sooner, too.

“I’ve missed you, bud.”

“It’s not the same at the precinct. Those two empty desks are heartbreaking. Now I really understand how Marius felt when he sang Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.”

“The awful, heart-breaking story of all his friends dying at the barricade wasn’t explanatory enough?” Jake asks. Charles shrugs.

“I still can’t believe you never told me you and Amy hooked up!” Charles grins. Jake gives him a pointed look. “I know, I know. Your relationship has become chaos as a result. But still! It’s the romance I’ve always dreamt of.”

“And you can’t tell anyone.”

“Not even Genevieve?”

That reply was too quick.

“You’ve already texted her about it under the table, haven’t you?”

“We share everything, Jake! My excitement is her excitement, quite literally-”

“Yes! Yes, you can tell Genevieve anything you want, as long as you stop talking right now.”

“Fine.”

"How're the others?"

Charles stops to think.

"Gina's exactly the same. Word has it she met someone, but obviously she won't tell us who."

"Sounds just like her."

"Rosa body-tackled a perp the other day, right in the middle of the precinct. I filmed it for you."

"Oh, man, you did?!" Jake feels a surge of love for his best friend. "Show me!"

"Sure! Oh," Charles opens his phone, dismayed. "I filmed it with the front-facing camera."

Sure enough, the video he brings up is a solid forty seconds of pure shock filtering in and out of his face. Jake's convinced it may be better than any other video he's ever seen.

For the first time this evening, there’s a pause in their conversation.

“I told Amy I loved her last night.”

The words sound strange out loud, real. Now he's told Charles, last night's incident exists outside of the bubble that is the case. The bubble where it's only he and Amy that exist.

Charles’s face lights up with glee.

“WHAT?!”

“I didn’t even… I didn’t mean it like that, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know. Continue. Explain,” Charles stares at him, continuing to sip at the straw of his diet coke like a teenage girl being fed the hottest gossip she’s ever heard.

The fact of it is that he’s scared. He always loves too quickly and too hard and, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been doomed for since the day he met her. He’s surprised he lasted this long before letting the words spill- it’s just a shame they’re not actually in a relationship, or even really sure of what they are at all. Great timing, Jake.

“I try not to say it, usually, when I’m in a relationship.” He sighs. “I realised pretty quickly that I was normally saying it too soon.”

“Adorable. You’re the king of love itself,” Charles gushes, pressing a hand against his chest. Jake shoots him a stern look. “Sorry. Continue.”

“With Amy it is romantic, but it’s more like… I care about her like family. I have… loving feelings for her. It’s not the same as being in love with her.”

“Sure.” Charles rolls his eyes.

Jake glances at his phone, tipsy and finding his own words are confusing him. It’s almost midnight.

“I bet Amy’s still in the office.”

“She stayed behind?”

“Yeah. She’s putting herself under crazy pressure.”

He wonders if she’s achieved anything. If the office is as painfully quiet as he imagines it to be. If, god forbid, she’s fallen asleep at her desk.

“Hey, I’ve only had one drink. I’ll drive you back to the office.”

“What?” Jake looks at Charles oddly. “Why would you do that?”

“Because all you’ve talked about all evening is Amy, and you just casually told me that she’s alone at work late at night, then wistfully gazed off into space for a solid ten seconds.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. C’mon.”

And like that, Charles is leading him outside and into the car, and he’s on his way back. The journey, under the lights of the city, makes Jake realise just how tired he is. They’re a while from home- they’ll have to come all the way from the offices back to Brooklyn. Poor Amy’s not even had a break.

The offices are eerie. Half the lights are off, and the entire place is silent.

When he enters their office, he’s actually relatively relieved to see Amy passed out at her desk. Something about the office is telling him he would have found it even creepier if she was able to work in an environment like this.

“Ames?” He knocks gently on the door, standing in its frame. He doesn’t want to alarm her.

She stirs for a moment, her breathing becoming momentarily stronger, out of pace.

“Ames, wake up.”

After a moment she lifts her head, slowly at first.

“What time is it?” You can hear the exhaustion in her voice, now reduced to a croak.

“Gone midnight. C’mon, we’ll get a cab.”

“I’ll just sleep here,” Amy murmurs, but he knows she doesn’t really mean it. She might be obsessive over her work, but she hates not having a fresh pantsuit in the morning, and he knows for a fact she’s used the spare clothes she’s been keeping here. “I’ve made progress.”

“Nope. C’mon. You can tell me all about it on the way back. Or even sleep.” He’s closer now, shaking gently at her arm.

She lifts her head, looking up at him with dark, slightly reddened eyes, half-asleep. She looks beautiful, even with the small patch of hair she’s been leaning on which is now an upwards-facing scruff of bed hair. Desk hair, if you will.

“Fine. Better be a comfy-ass cab.”

He laughs lowly at this, only too aware of how ready she is to pass out.  It’d be irresponsible to send her home by herself- not because she couldn’t handle herself, not in any scenario, Jake thinks- but purely because she deserves a nap.

Luckily, it doesn’t take too long to get a taxi. Admittedly, at first, the driver seems a little wary of what Jake can only assume from an outsider’s perspective appears to be a vulnerable woman passed out in the arms of a man trying to take her home.

The drive back to hers feels like a decade. Jake doesn’t mind. He savours each second, especially when she passes out on his shoulder. The radio is playing softly in the front of the car, some late-night dance station. She’s warm against him, and occasionally the scent of her hair floats upwards. He can’t get over how beautiful she looks, and so he spends the journey memorizing each detail of her face. Freckles, eyelashes, eyebrows, the cupid’s bow of her lips.

He’s beyond exhaustion. After last night’s exchange he obviously couldn’t sleep, and the worst part is that he knows it’s his fault. If he’d just been understanding maybe they could have talked it through again. But, frankly, he doesn’t regret saying the things he did. He cares about her, maybe more than anything, but while the last two months have been exciting, scary, and new, they’ve also been some of the most stressful he’s ever known. He wants her, but not with the way things are right now. She deserves better than him in this state.

She hums against his chest, and, for some reason, this is the moment at which he realises he's never, ever, felt like this about somebody. She amazes him, in every possible way, but on top of all of this, she frightens him. Amy is everything he could possibly want or need and he doesn't have the room to mess a single thing up. Maybe he already has.

Miraculously, Jake succeeds in staying awake until they reach her apartment. He can’t help but feel a little guilty as he wakes her, talking softly to her until she stirs again.

Amy doesn’t let go of him as they walk up the steps into her building, or even when they’re in the elevator on the way up. She’s not clinging, not by any means- rather, he keeps an arm over her shoulder, and, gently, she holds up her hand so she can hold his. It’s intimate, obviously, and all Jake can think of is helping her into bed and climbing in next to her, falling asleep beside her. But there’s an understanding between them, and he knows it as well as she does. If he kisses her now, he makes everything awkward and weird again for a couple of days.

Maybe this is the perfect balance, he thinks. Just being able to hold each other, let the other know they’re there. No talking. No sex. No complications. Just caring for each other when it matters the most. Maybe.

“Stay here. The blanket’s already on the couch,” she says firmly once they’re inside. He knows there’s no point in arguing, especially since it’s nearing 2 in the morning, and more practically speaking he lives a solid 15 minutes away and right now he feels like he could pass out on the spot. “I’ll get you a pillow,” she adds, wandering off towards her bedroom.

After a minute she reappears in the living area with one of her pillows, throwing it onto the couch.

“Night, Jake.”

She stands in front of him for a second, smiling tiredly, but then, out of nowhere, he finds himself being pulled into a hug. Her arms are thrown around his neck, and for a moment she’s just breathing into him. Jake takes this as permission to do the same, pulling her in, closing his eyes against the top of her head as the fatigue threatens to take him to sleep a few minutes too early. He could swear she fits into him, against him, perfectly. She's made to be there. Hours of work haven't affected the softness of her skin, or the gentle waft of her perfume, and for a moment he wishes he could fall asleep here, in her arms.

The words she says next, muffled against his chest, are little more than a whisper; if he’d been even breathing a little louder he might have missed them. Missed her. But it’s certain, and even when she pulls away and ambles slowly away to her bedroom, it echoes throughout the room. Throughout the city. The most spectacular four words Jake’s ever heard.

“I love you too.”

[forestwater87]

Ascendant, Ch. 4

(In which I badly rip of setepenre-set’s style so much I have to credit it)

“Sister Hannah doesn’t think you’re ready for ascension.”

“And here I thought we were getting close,” Kevin said dryly, keeping his focus on his “garden.” He’d been letting this part of his supply grow thin; Daniel didn’t enjoy the outdoors, and his visits had increased until he appeared at Kevin’s trailer almost every day. But he’d be damned if he let court-mandated bonding fuck up his business.

Daniel leaned against the side of the trailer, springing upright with a pained hiss as his skin met the sun-baked metal. “She thinks you have too much negativity in your system. It’s clouding your mind with doubts.”

Kevin frowned, glancing up from the plant he was tending. “Isn’t that what ascension is supposed to do? Clear out all that shit so I can be a good little cultist?”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his expression darkening. “She’s right — you’re so swamped with toxins, the Confederacy would never accept you.”

Kevin was surprised to find that . . . actually hurt, a little. Not that he gave a damn what Daniel’s Ancient Ones thought, but — “Hey, fuck you. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Daniel scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away. “Please. You have so many impurities it’s disgusting. You’re tainted.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Kevin said, standing. He headed back toward his trailer, letting his shoulder knock into Daniel’s roughly. “What’re you doing wasting your time here, then, if I’m not gonna be invited to the party?” He smirked, even though the knot in his stomach was anything but funny. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Daniel didn’t answer. Kevin glanced back to see him standing in the same spot by the garden, looking shiny and lost and exposed without the safety of drawn curtains and soft lamplight.

A wave of — something — washed over him, hot and cold and strangely feverish. “How long have you known I’m not going to ascend?”

Exactly how long had Daniel been told he was a lost cause and kept coming here anyway? (Hell, he probably didn’t even need to be told; no one could possibly expect someone known as Dirty Kevin to fit into a world of cleanliness and purity.)

How much did Sister Hannah even know about this?

Daniel’s mouth worked, angry red blotches flaring up along his cheeks and neck. “What are you talking about?”

Kevin paused in the doorway. “Are you coming in? Or do you have a party to plan?”

After a moment, Daniel followed him into the trailer and took his usual seat on Kevin’s couch, crossing his arms and legs like a very displeased, pale Twizzler.

Kevin settled down at his only table, snagging a tote bag from under the sink and emptying it in front of him; dozens of orange prescription bottles rolled over the pocked wood surface. “To be honest I’m kinda glad to be left out,” he said conversationally, picking through the bottles and sorting them. “You probably are too, huh?”

Daniel had been watching his work curiously, but when Kevin glanced up at him his eyes immediately darted away. “Someday you’re going to say something that makes sense,” he muttered, his voice a sullen growl, “and I’m pretty sure the shock of it would kill Xemüg Himself.”

Kevin was surprised into a laugh. God, what an asshole. “It’d probably make more sense if you were fucked up,” he said with a grin, shaking one of the pill bottles like maracas. “What d’ya say, wanna try some good old-fashioned Earth toxins?”

Daniel ignored him, frowning at Barbra; her ears flattened against her head and she hissed. It was her standard response to Daniel, which Kevin thought proved she had excellent judgement of character.

“But seriously, ascending means you basically lose everything negative, right?” When Daniel nodded reluctantly, he continued. “No drugs, no sarcasm, no inappropriate jokes or uncomfortable questions, right?”

“A pleasant side effect of ascension,” he grumbled, “would be making you infinitely more bearable.”

“That’s basically everything about me.” He shot Daniel his most charming smile — although he refused to look over, so the effect was somewhat wasted. “Wellll, I think you’ve gotta like at least some of those things or you wouldn’t keep coming around.”

Daniel’s head snapped in Kevin’s direction, his eyes wide and his lips parted. (Of it wasn’t for the unsettling cult vibes, the kid would look every bit like a Disney princess.) “That —“

“Admit it,” he needled, tapping the bottle in his hand on the table, “you’d miss me if I ascended.”

“I doubt it. You never go away — why would ascension change that?”

He decided not to point out that he’d never sought Daniel out once. “What makes you think I’d stick around? Doesn’t everyone disappear?” Wasn’t that, in fact, the real reason he was so damn relieved not to be part of this bullshit?

Kevin had tried, more than once, to delicately ask Sister Hannah what happened after ascension in the few times he stopped zoning out long enough to pay attention to the meetings. He’d always been steered away with a polite but unswayable change of subject. Daniel, though he didn’t seem to understand a whole lot more about all this than he did, was at least a lot worse at maintaining secrecy. “Hey, where’d you guys come from, anyway? S’not like you grew up around here.” It had taken him a few weeks to recognize the little white house the Circle of the Confederacy was using as a church, but it had belonged to one of his old high-school teachers as recently as a year ago (he should know; Mrs. Parsons was one of his infrequent-but-predictable customers).

Daniel glanced up, distracted from his staring war with the cat -- Barbra, satisfied with her victory, celebrated by sniffing Daniel’s hand and then darting under Kevin’s chair. “The Elders and their flocks are always traveling,” he said carefully, “to keep finding new members.”

Great, they were back to parroting party lines. Sister Hannah had said essentially the same thing, at the last meeting. “Right, but the place you were last. It had a name.” When Daniel just looked at him, his expression telegraphing the snide “obviously” so clearly he might as well have just said it, Kevin sighed, shaking his head and reminding himself that it wasn’t Daniel’s fault that he was a goddamn idiot. “What was the name?”

“Why do you care?” Kevin didn’t bother replying; sometimes the best thing to do was just wait until Daniel’s curiosity overcame his general difficultness and assholery. And sure enough, after a few quiet moments . . . “La Veta. There was a school there Sister Hannah worked with.”

He frowned, pushing his chair back and nearly giving his cat a heart attack, if the baleful stare she gave him was any indication. “Why do I know that name?” He’d thrown his sweatshirt over the back of the easy chair before going out to the garden, and he rifled through the pockets for his phone. Across the room he noticed Daniel grimace, but ignored it in favor of Googling.

“Jesus fuck.”

La Veta, Colorado. Population of like a thousand, probably very pretty in one of those “this is a shithole but it has quaint charm to someone who’s just driving through” ways, completely unremarkable.

Except for that one time forty high-school kids dropped dead.

Kevin remembered that story, not only because it was a drama for the old fucks to pick apart in their rocking chairs -- one of the great unsolved, after all, no fingerprints except the students’ on the poisoned cups, none of the parents or friends really knew what all those kids were up to, some top-secret Jonestown shit -- but because it had forced him to be extra careful with everything he sold. People were paranoid for a long time after that about taking anything from strangers, even their friendly neighborhood drug dealer.

“This . . . was you?” He needed to call the police. Probably. “This was fucking you.”

“It was an accident,” Daniel added immediately, as though he’d just been waiting for the opportunity to speak. “I wasn’t there -- I was too young, wasn’t ready -- hadn’t been properly trained like I am here and something went wrong with -- with the ascension, there was nothing Sister Hannah could do . . . she was inconsolable -- I, I had to make sure we got out of town safely, she couldn’t stop crying -- it wasn’t on purpose!”

His head was buzzing, fluffy and clouded like Barbra had coughed up a hairball onto his brain. He really had to call the police. He and the police weren’t exactly on good terms, but . . . this was fucking huge. This was kid-killing huge.

“What happened?” he finally managed, barely able to hear himself through the buzzing.

Daniel paused, chest still heaving from his frantic explanation (confession?), watching Kevin as though to make sure he wasn’t going to panic.

(oh he was panicking)

After a few beats of silence he relaxed incrementally, settling back against the couch. “I . . . don’t really know,” he admitted. “Sister Hannah was too upset, she wouldn’t tell me. Even now, if I --” He shook his head. “She says it’s okay, though, this time.”

Kevin’s thoughts were broken, fragments of ideas beating against one another and screaming.

(she was too upset)

(Daniel had to get them out of town)

(it was an accident an accident no one could blame them)

(no one could blame h e r)

(god she was fucking brilliant)

“An accident.” His lips felt numb. His fingers, still holding his phone but not using it to call the police or text for help or anything useful, numb and disconnected from his body like pale sausages with untrimmed nails.

(corpse fingers)

“I think -- maybe it had something to do with the ascension formula. There’s a ritual, a drink, and Sister Hannah always says that it’s very important to get it right or the ceremony will be ruined.” He swallowed audibly, looking down at his hands. Hands that were long-fingered and bony and pale, dangling limp between his knees.

(skeleton hands)

“Huh.” He had to do something, and his brain was very much not fucking cooperating at the moment. “So, uh. Before that. How long were you in . . . that. There.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the town’s name, the name that meant only news headlines and dead children.

And Daniel.

It took Daniel a second to piece those shreds of a sentence together. “We lived there for three years. I . . . didn’t go outside much, though. Only at night, really. I didn’t go to school, and so it was better that nobody knew I was there, so they wouldn’t ask questions.”

The obvious question hung in the air between them

(why didn’t she let you go to school?)

but neither of them reached out and took hold of it.

“Before that, my mother and I -- I mean, Acolyte Rachel and I -- lived in Sister Hannah’s compound. She wasn’t Sister Hannah yet though; she was like me, training with my -- with Acolyte Rachel to be an elder.

“But Brother Robert -- he was Sister Hannah’s ‘Sister Hannah’ --” Daniel stumbled a bit over that awkward wording, but soldiered on, “decided that Acolyte Rachel wasn’t . . . meant to be an Elder. She was supposed to ascend instead, and go visit places with the other Acolytes to prepare people for the arrival of an Elder. That’s what she told me. She said that we -- that Brother Robert saw something special in me, and that even though she’d have to leave me behind once she ascended, I might someday be the Elder who came to her town, and we’d see each other again. See each other serving the Confederacy together.”

Kevin’s legs were starting to shake -- he wondered distantly if this was what fainting felt like -- and he took a seat across from Daniel, supporting himself on the arm of the chair like an old man.

(he felt old, haunted and weary and old)

He’d paused in his story while Kevin made the laborious trip from behind the chair to sitting in it, again poised like a rabbit ready to run. After a moment, when Kevin’s phone remained in his hand with its screen black and dead and useless

(useless like him dead like forty kids)

Daniel continued, talking like he’d never told this story before, like each piece was as new to him as to Kevin. “She had a weak heart. It was Sister Hannah’s first ascension as an Elder and M -- Acolyte Rachel wasn’t strong enough, her heart couldn’t hold out. Sister Hannah told me that as soon as she knew what was happening, she sat by Mother and completed the ascension ritual just for her, so she ascended before she died.” His eyes were dry but unfocused, staring at a spot on the carpet with his pupils blown out in the low light. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d slipped up and forgotten to use her cult name. “Sister Hannah didn’t even stay for the celebration with the other Elders. As soon as it happened she came and found me. She told me what had happened and that she’d seen in a vision that I was chosen to be her disciple, that we’d been given an assignment from Brother Robert and that we had to go immediately. There’s no time to waste in service to the Confederacy.”

(did she cry when she told you?)

(did she cry fake tears and make you disappear)

“Another accident.”

Daniel’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and it was like the world snapped back into focus for both of them. Kevin took a deep breath, shoving away the last screaming shreds of his panic --

(where is this compound is Brother Robert still alive how many acolytes are dead was I supposed to be one of them)

-- and forcing some level of bitter-tasting humor into his voice. “Sister Hannah’s real fuckin’ unlucky, isn’t she? Accidents follow her wherever she goes.”

Even as Daniel flinched, his eyes hardened. “Xemüg tries to interfere with the Confederacy’s work. The Ancient Ones can’t always protect us from the results of this battle.” The tone of his voice was his “stop arguing with me” tone, the one the was disdain mixed with irritation and just the slightest undertone of a deeply unsettling mania -- and it was that last one that kept Kevin up at night sometimes, that made him snap his mouth shut and let his visitor be just as crazy as he liked.

Because it was that tone that reminded him that Daniel was crazy. No matter how geeky and harmless he seemed lounging in Kevin’s piece of shit trailer with sweat slicking his hair to his face and smoke in the air around his head, there was something dark and twisted under there, a seed that was just waiting under the surface, hidden probably even from Daniel himself.

And that seed had a motherfucking name. “Will I have a weak heart too, do you think? Or is all this --” he gestured vaguely around them, “-- enough? Just another junkie who overdosed or killed himself because he ruined his life with impurities.”

“What on earth are you --”

“Because it can’t be ascension,” Kevin continued, feeling the panic start to push at him again like hands squeezing his skull, “since I’m not a good enough sheep for ascension, right? Good ol’ Sister Jones can’t worry about me not drinking the kool-aid when she’ll have her hands full convincing you that it’s all for the best when all fifteen recovering drunks at their graduation party drop dead.”

Daniel sat up fully, concern sharpening his face. To anyone looking into the trailer from outside, he’d look like the sane one. “You’re not making any --”

“But she knows I’ve heard aaalll about Xemüg!” There were so many things Kevin should be doing, from calling the police to running for his life to grabbing the little switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Anything but letting the words fall out of his mouth like they were, wild and uncontrolled in a dangerous slide from his brain to his tongue. “I’ve seen her face! I’ve seen your face. I know there was a party and I’ll know why there aren’t two platinum-haired corpses -- does she make you bleach it, by the way? Is that part of the religion, or do you just want to be like mommy?”

And god, the look on his face at that, like Sister Hannah wouldn’t need to lift a finger to make him disappear, not if he kept talking.

Unfortunately, not knowing when to shut up was one of the many reasons Kevin’s life had taken the nosedive it had. “Hey, this girl from high school works at one of the camps on the lake. Used to be pretty good friends, back before . . . you know.” And again he waved an arm around them, less controlled this time. “Don’t remember her name, but I see her around. Got big purple eyes, kinda cute, few years younger than me. Not that you can tell -- it’s not like I’ve aged pretty,” he added. He felt strangely drunk; it’d been a long time since he’d felt anything resembling this kind of sickening, brain-freezing fear, and he had a suspicion he wasn’t handling it very well. “If you end up seeing her, tell her Dirty Kevin says hi. And that he’s real sorry about all the dead she’s gonna be, but odds are I’ll already be in hell.”

Daniel scrambled to his feet, holding out his hands like Kevin was flinging a gun around. “What are you talking about? I’m not going to hurt you!”

“Oh yeah?” he cried, aware that he needed to drop his voice before one of his neighbors called the cops but unable to translate that information into action. (And fuck, if they called the police it’d save him a phone call, right? Because that was what a sane person would do, and Dirty Kevin was a lot of things but he straight-up fucking refused to be crazy.) “What if Xemüg tells you to, huh?”

“We don’t worship Xemüg, so it wouldn’t matter if -- that’s not the point!” he snarled, taking a step forward; Kevin immediately sank further into his chair, pressing back against it like the pot-reeking cushions would absorb him. “In the name of the Ancients -- why don’t you just see, then? Come to the ceremony and admit that this -- all of this -- is ludicrous!”

“Fine!”

The shout startled them both into silence, and for a few long seconds they just stared at each other, wide-eyed and breathing hard.

This is an excellent way to get yourself killed, Kev.

He gulped for air, wishing he still had his inhaler from high school. “Fine,” he said again, quieter and surprisingly calm. “Didn’t think they’d let you bring a date, but what the hell. Maybe I can sweet-talk Sister Hannah into making me one of those Acolytes you were talking about.”

His father was absolutely right: he had the brains of a goddamn chipmunk, without any of the self-preservation instinct. But fuck, maybe he could stop a mass homicide, be the town hero. He could use the goodwill, considering the legal trouble he occasionally found himself in. He’d be like some kind of vigilante criminal, like Batman without the money or the costume or the abs.

Who was he kidding?

He’d just signed his death warrant.

[danixx1]

When will you tell her? (One shot)

Elisa’s hand reached for the radio as soon as the song begun.

“Oh, don’t change the station! I love this song!” Ashley pleaded inside Elisa’s car, and the driver exchanged a brief look with her brother, Jay, as searching for help.

“She hates this song”, Jay stated.

“Oh, come on, Elisa, how can you hate ‘My Humps’? It’s just the best song ever!”

“For idiots” Elisa replied, joking. “No one will listen to this crap inside my car.”

In 600 meters, turn right, the electronic voice from the GPS instructed.

“Ok, I’ll admit it’s crap. But it’s some funny crap. And it sticks to your mind.”

“That’s exactly the problem”, Elisa replied. “And it’s annoying.”

“Come on, please?” the girl in the backseat pouted her lips.

“Yeah, please, look how adorable she is” Jay mocked, pretending to take her side.

Elisa laughed and turned the volume up.

“Don’t you say I never did anything for you, Ash.”

“You’re the best, E. If you had another brother, I’d marry him.”

“Hey, wait a minute”, interrupted Jay. “What’s wrong with me?”

Ashley smiled widely.

“Nothing. But you’re my best friend. I wouldn’t risk losing you.”

Then she got back to singing the lyrics. Jay smiled back, only this time, his smile couldn’t reach his eyes. Ashley didn’t notice, but Elisa did.

In 200 meters, turn right.

As soon as the song ended, Elisa turned the radio off, hoping to avoid any other hideous song to play inside her car. Besides, they were close, now.

“You guys are coming home with me, right? Ash, I’ll drop you by, if you don’t wanna sleep over.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.”

You have reached your destination.

“And we’re here”, she said, stopping the car near the entry and turning off the GPS app. As soon as she parked, Ashley opened the door and got out. Elisa looked at her younger brother with some concern in her eyes.

“She looks gorgeous tonight”, Elisa said.

“Doesn’t she always?” he replied, half smiling.

“So, when will you tell her?”

“Shut up, E.”, he answered, shaking his head. She could tell he was nervous. His hands wouldn’t stop moving and he couldn’t look at her.

“I’m serious. You have to tell her, she’s as blind as our aunt Cynthia.”

“You heard her. Best friend. Wouldn’t risk losing me. All that crap.”

“So change her mind, hon. At least try.”

He finally looked at her.

“What if I lose her?”

“You won’t. Now get out of this car.”

He opened the door.

“And, Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“How can she like My Humps? Seriously, your girl needs to be educated in music.”

Jay laughed and got out of the car, waiting for his sister. Ashley was waiting by the door, searching for her ID, and damn, he thought, she really did look great tonight.

♦♦♦

“Hey, Nath!” Jay greeted his friend. “Happy Birthday, dude!”

“Thanks!” Nathan shook his hand and gave him a hug, patting his back enthusiastically. Ashley hugged Nath too, making the gift box in her hand look a bit messy.

“Happy birthday, Nath” she fixed the bow on the top of the box and handed it to him. “I hope you like it!”

He thanked her, even though the sight of Elisa made him forget about the gift in a split second. Jay and Ashley exchanged looks and walked over to where their friends were, leaving the two to talk.   

The girls were all on top of an iPhone, Tinder open, having a small debate and then switching left and right as the faces appeared on screen.

“Fancy place” Jay whispered to Ashley, she agreed with her head and a sweet smile that almost made him curse. His hand was on her back as he led her to the small group of people on the table.

“Hey, Ash and Jay! Come over! We’re picking Tom’s next girlfriend.” Lucy greeted them.

“So that’s his phone, huh? Poor guy.” Jay commented, searching for their friend. Tom was nowhere to be seen. “Where is he?”

“Hitting on some girl over the bar,” Miranda said, waving her hand in the direction of what must have been the bar.

“Does he know what you girls are up to?” Ashley asked.

“Hm, probably not. But he did leave his phone with me, so he was aware of the risks”, Lucy smiled widely.

“I’ll go get him”, Jay said, his hand leaving Ashley’s back as he walked away.

He spotted Nathan on the way, by himself, and asked him where he could find Tom.

“Probably over the bar”, was his answer. Jay laughed a bit and made a mental note to talk to Tom about drinking too much. He’d make a threat to take Tom to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.

“Where’s Elisa?”

“Bathroom.”

“So that means you guys can get around other people now without sticking your tongue inside the other’s mouth?” Jay grinned.

“Stop being such a jealous brother.”

Jay stretched his shoulders and straightened up, as to look taller than Nathan.

“I am not.”

“Jay, when will you tell Ashley you like her?”

“Seriously, could everyone please stop asking me that?” he replied annoyed, looking around to check if the girl could have possibly overheard the conversation. He ran his fingers through his hair, starting to wish that Elisa got back soon, so Nath would be distracted.

“We will, as soon as you tell her.” Nathan smiled and pointed over, gesturing to someone on the bar. “There’s Tom.”

♦♦♦

Ashley was chatting with Lucy and Miranda, who finally returned Tom’s phone to its owner, once Jay and Tom got back from the bar. Tom seemed happy enough about his new matches on Tinder, and thought it was all very funny. They were talking about the next trip they would all make, probably to some city in Ireland. Jay was defending Cork, Lucy wanted to go to Belfast, Ashley and Miranda said they had to go to Dublin (again) and Tom was inclined to go to Galway.

Jay excused himself for a moment, going after another flute of champagne. Tom was about to follow him, but Jay was acting like his babysitter and gave him a lecture about Tom having had too many drinks already.

The discussion followed on for a little while, even though each one of them knew it was pointless. They would visit all of those cities, but the fun was to decide in which they would spend most of the nights. The fun was also in winning the small discussion, Ashley thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted when this tall, dark haired guy with blue eyes touched her shoulder, making her turn, and asked her to dance. She glanced at the girls, half smiling, before accepting his outstretched hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor.

They followed the slow song absentmindedly, swaying to one side and then, the other, having that kind of conversation you have when you’re meeting someone for the first time. His name was Daniel, he was studying Law, got a good job and had two younger brothers. They continued to sway, his body getting a little closer to hers. She told him a bit about herself, too. Twenty two, no siblings, enjoyed swimming when she needed to clear her mind from university chaos, worked in an office.

From what she could tell, he smiled a lot. She asked about his hobbies, but wasn’t able to hear his response because someone dropped a glass on the floor. When she looked around, searching for the sound of the sound, her eyes met Jay’s.

He was the one who let the Champagne flute drop to the floor. Its liquid spilled around, getting to his clothes and some of the girls dresses. Some of them let out small screams and a lot of them looked at him with some fury on their eyes.

Jay didn’t even notice. His eyes were locked on Ashley’s. His face was pale and he was breathing heavy. Then he seemed to return to his self, turned away and walked towards the opposite way.

“Is everything okay?” Daniel asked, and only then she felt herself returning completely to the moment, too. Only then she noticed she stopped dancing. Daniel kept looking from her to where Jay stood moments before, as if trying to understand what just happened. As she gave no response, he asked again. “Ashley, is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry”, she said, looking at him. “Excuse me.”

And with those words and confused thoughts, she went after Jay, crossing the hall filled with people, trying to spot his curly hair above the crowd. She went to their table, asking for him, but he wasn’t there. She saw Tom and Lucy exchange worried looks, but none of them said anything. Ashley turned around and continued to search for him, and Tom took his phone out of his pocket and started to call Jay, to ask where he was, but before he could pick up, Ashley was gone in the crowd.

To her surprise, she found him four minutes later, at the bar, two empty shots on the counter. The third one on the way to his mouth. She sat beside him.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked. Her voice sounded angry, was she angry? Why was she angry?

“I’m drinking. It’s a party, isn’t it?” his voice a midst between hurt and anger. Why was he hurt?

She turned his face to her.

“I asked you what are you doing”, she tried again. “What’s going on?”

His eyes drifted away from her face, back to the shot. He took it in and asked for another one, ignoring her. He was mad, but he wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at himself, for being such a coward and then being pissed that some other guy asked her to dance. But something about seeing her in another guys arms, smiling that smile that lit up his day to some guy that wasn’t him, something about the whole situation made his insides burn.

So he was drinking to stop those thoughts.

He couldn’t answer to her questions, because he had no idea what he was doing.

She was starting to be mad at him, too, but his body was slowly absorbing the alcohol and things felt off place. He looked at her. She looked furious and her mouth was moving fast, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. His other shot was placed in front of him, and he drank it too, as searching for courage in every drop until the last one. She slapped him in the arm as he drank, almost causing him to choke.

“Ash” he said. She stopped talking and looked at him, waiting with her arms crossed in front of her. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” she asked, her tone was sharp.

He closed his eyes and prayed his sister was right and they were really made for each other, because if that wasn’t the case, he was about to blow the whole thing to the air.

“I got jealous.”

“That’s stupid, I don’t even know the guy” she replied, unaware of what he meant. He held her hands in his, making her look at him again, and explained.

“I got jealous because I’m in love with you. And you’re as blind as my aunt Cynthia, as Elisa said sooner.”

He probably shouldn’t have said the last part, but it just slipped through his lips. Her eyes widened and she sat there, with her mouth slightly open, saying nothing. He could hear his heartbeats and for a second, he wondered if she could hear them too.

“You’re drunk”, she said, finally. Untangling her fingers from his, she got up and returned to their table, not looking back even a single time, leaving Jay feeling like he was sinking and no one would throw him a rope.

“Woah, what’s that look on your face?” Tom asked. “Have you found Jay?”

“He’s at the bar, getting himself drunk, the bloody idiot!” she spat.

“What happened?” Tom’s face turned immediately to worry, Jay wasn’t the type to get wasted, he was.

“He said he is…” she didn’t think she could finish the sentence. Her friends looked at her, she shook her head and breathed in deeply. “He said he’s in love with me. But he only said that because he was drunk and got jealous.”

The table was silent. Everyone got this almost scared look on their faces, like they were all afraid to say something. Then Tom got up and went to the bar as fast as he could, almost running.

“He saw you dancing with Mr. Tall and Handsome?” Lucy asked, carefully.

“Yeah, that’s why he got jealous.”

Every time she passed those last minutes in her mind again, she got a bit angrier. Why am I angry?, she asked herself for what felt like the hundredth time.

“And then he got drunk?” Miranda looked like she was trying to solve a math problem.

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. What is the matter with all of you?” she slapped the table, trying to get some sense out of her friends. Why was everyone so weird all of a sudden?

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him he was drunk and then…” her mind was confused. “And then I left him there.”

The shock on Miranda and Lucy’s faces was all it took for her to notice. She covered her mouth with her hands.

“Oh my God. I’m a horrible person!”

“Girl, that man has been in love with you ever since I can remember.” Miranda stated, still trying to find a way to keep her mouth shut.

“He… what?” Ashley was trying to make her brain understand those words, all of that situation, but it seemed impossible, almost like they were trying to explain it to her in ancient Greek or something.

“He looks at you like you’re a goddess or something”, agreed Lucy.

“How come you never told me?” now she felt like accusing them. “I mean, what kind of friends are you?”

“It was not up to us to do so”, Lucy raised her hands as to calm Ashley down.

“Yeah, and it was not our fault you were too dumb to notice.”

“Miranda!” Lucy reprimanded her friend.

Ashley felt like she was about to vomit. It couldn’t be. Everyone knew but her, and how could she not know? Taking things into consideration, Elisa’s comments, the boys jokes, it all made sense now. And it was just too much.

She needed to get away from there. She needed a drink.

When she started walking, the girls asked where she was going, as she replied something. It was either “I’m going to the bathroom” or “leave me alone”, she had no idea which one had got out of her mouth, as she thought both of them at the same time, over and over. Either way, none of them went after her. It was always Jay that went after her, always worried and willing to know she was fine, refusing to let her alone when he knew she wasn’t, even if she lied to his face. Jay. She thought about him and her stomach revolved itself.

Reaching for the bar, she sat on the opposite side, trying not to be spotted by Tom or Jay. Jay was wasted, and Tom was making him drink some water. His headache would be shit the next day. She kind of hoped hers would be hell as well.

A couple of drinks later, she was feeling dizzy and Tom left Jay there by himself. She was so mad at him for not telling her. Best friends, that’s what they were! They weren’t supposed to have secrets to one another.

Another drink was put before her. She glanced at Jay from her hidden spot. He was taking another shot of something that looked like whisky. He never drank whisky. But he barely ever drank anything. And he never lied to her. Not until tonight. She was feeling betrayed, and anger drove her to finish that drink too. When she asked for the other one, she almost didn’t recognize her voice. She was drunk, too.

Tom returned with Elisa, and she hugged Jay and got him a lecture in front of everyone, after all, he was her baby brother. “If she doesn’t see what a great guy you are, she doesn’t deserve you!” were the words that travelled through the crowd to get to Ashley’s ears.

“He lied to me”, she muttered to herself. And then, determination struck her like a lightning, she felt the need to tell it to his face.

“Jay!” she shouted, from where she stood, stumbling on her way to him, Tom and Elisa.

“I think now’s not exactly the best time”, Elisa started.

“You’re a liar!” Ashley spat, poking him on the chest, fury inside her eyes. “How could you not tell me?”

“You just proved that I shouldn’t!” he replied, his voice loud.

“I’ll take you guys outside”, said Tom, reaching for Jay’s arm, as he led her by the hand. “You need some fresh air.”

“You also need to stop yelling in the middle of the party”, agreed Elisa. “You don’t want to ruin Nathan’s birthday.”

Once outside, they were both breathing heavily, and Jay asked Tom and his sister to go back to the party, as this shit was personal, as he stated.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you”, he said.

“You are an idiot, that’s what you are. We were supposed to be friends!”

“Yeah, obviously I fucked this up, too.”

Only then she noticed he still had a glass on his hand. She slapped his hand, causing the glass to fall on the grass, and slapped him again, this time on his arm.

“You should’ve told me!” she accused him again.

“So you could have broken my heart earlier?” his eyes sustained her look, defiantly. He was hurt, she could tell. She had hurt him. This thought made her heart ache.

“I was the last to know, and you know what?” she got closer to him, her hands moving everywhere. “I don’t even know if we ever were friends!”

Now he looked confused, but if anything, more pissed off.

“What the hell do you mean now, Ash?” he tried to take her hand, but she didn’t let him.

“I don’t even know if we were friends at all, I mean, did you always take care of me because you liked me or because we were friends?”

“BOTH!”, he yelled, as if it were obvious.

“How can I know that you didn’t do everything just because you liked me?”

He shook his head, she wasn’t making any sense. Of course he took care of her and worried about her because they were friends. Of course he did those things because he liked her too. Those things were always intertwined.

“You know me”, he said, simply.

She stopped, dizziness blurring her mind.  He tried to hold her hand again, and this time she let him. She kept looking at their hands, their fingers intertwined. It felt safe. It felt right. She though it would be different, feel different now. But it didn’t. It still felt right.

“I was your friend because that was what I could be”, Jay’s voice was soft now. “I just wanted to be with you, anyway you wanted me.”

“So what changed?” she asked, her eyes still on their hands.

“I realized I would lose you sooner or later, if I didn’t try.”

She looked at him now. Her best friend. She remembered her comment inside the car, about marrying Elisa’s brother, if she had another one. That sounded almost cruel now that she knew. His hands were still warm in hers, and she felt stupid. Her thoughts drifted to imagine the whole scene different. What if she had seen Jay dancing with some girl, some pretty girl she had never seen? Would she be jealous, too?

Would she be okay with knowing that he could have a girlfriend, and with time, that he would do all the things he used to do with her with this new girl? That one day, she’d be nothing more than an old friend, which he never sees anymore? That someone other than her would run her hands through his hair, when he was laying on her lap, watching some stupid movie on TV? That, like earlier, when she left somewhere, wanting to cry, Jay would not be there to make sure she was ok?

Her chest ached at those thoughts, and she thought about how right her hand had felt in his. She wondered what it would feel like to be with him, as more than friends. It was so weird that she had never thought about it before. It made so much sense now.

She looked at him, he was still waiting for her to say something. She had left him without an answer at the bar, the first time he said those words that changed everything. And she didn’t say anything now too, but she needed to.

Instead of saying anything, as she didn’t think she could put everything she was feeling into words, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him. She felt drunk, and as he was also drunk, it was a quite messy kiss, but none of them cared. The kiss tasted like alcohol and strawberries. A part of her was shocked they had that conversation in such an altered state and still managed to understand each other.

♦♦♦

As they got back inside together, Tom decided to celebrate the new couple, handing them both more flutes of champagne, as if they weren’t wasted already. Tom himself was quite drunk, but none of them seemed to care, and everyone drank a little bit more than a little more. One of those “I’m too drunk to know I’m too drunk” moments that makes you drink another drink when you should’ve stopped drinking at all.

“Ok, whatever, let's just get out of here”, Jay said. He pulled Ashley's hand and crossed the crowd, as if there wasn't a single person in front of them. The only reason they got back inside was to get her purse that had stayed on their table. They didn't even say goodbye to anyone. They left the party, got in a cab and in the absence of logical coordinates, they ended up at Jay's flat. Ashley did try to explain her address, but after annoying the taxi driver with loud laughter and scrambled words, Jay convinced him that the drive to his place would keep them inside the vehicle for less than fifteen minutes. That statement seemed to please the cabbie, who also gained a few extra pounds as a tip, due to the inability of the passengers to make complex mathematical operations, like addition, in that state.

They tripped a bit on their way across the building hall, and soon they were inside the elevator. It took them three stops on the wrong floor before the right one. Jay had pushed two buttons that 'looked a lot like his', and Ashley tried to correct him, unsuccessfully. The apartment door was open and Tia, his lizard, walked around the sofa.

“Jay, I told you a thousand times to lock your front door. You always leave it open.” Ashley started a fail attempt to scold her best friend, but the tone of laughter in her voice was evident, making her lose all the seriousness of the subject. “One day you’ll come home to find out there’s nothing else in here anym-“

Jay pulled her towards him, stopping her from finishing the sentence. Without much thinking, he touched her lips with his. There wasn't a lot of thought in the kiss, by any of them. Somewhere deep in her conscience, Ashley heard an insistent little voice telling her that maybe that wasn't the wisest of attitudes. Still, for some reason, she couldn't care enough to break the kiss, nor to take her hands off that curly and so soft hair. Jay guided her through the flat by a path that she already knew: the one that led to his bedroom.

As they crossed the room, his hands unzipped her dress, and soon enough that dress was nothing more than a bunch of fabric on the floor. Jay's bed was soft and inviting, and Ashley found herself lying on it, his weight pleasantly over her body, until they were interrupted by a strange and insistent noise coming from the living room.

“Shit, that’s Elisa’s ringtone.” Jay cursed, sitting down and sobering up in a burst. “I’ll be right back; she’ll kill me if I don’t answer.”

Ashley could hear him answer to some very tough questions, such as how they left and where they were. The lack of Jay's body heat made her shiver, and she easily slipped under the blankets.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Jay was trying to answer in a way that guaranteed the other side's comprehension. After hanging up the phone, he threw it on the sofa and suddenly felt all the tiredness that the day had provided. He lifted Tia, putting it in its little house, before heading back to the bedroom. Containing a yawn, he crossed the doorway and found his best friend sleeping in his bed. Jay took off his suit and put his pajama shorts, leaving his worn clothes on the floor. Then he joined Ashley, pulling her close in a tight hug before he fell asleep too, embraced by her perfume scent.

♦♦♦

Ashley woke up with a throbbing head and none of the courage needed to open her eyes. Confused memories danced in her mind. An attempt to speak French at some point of the night, stumbling a couple of times because the ground was moving. She only opened her eyes when she felt her skin against the sheets. "Whoa. Something's wrong here." The searing pain she felt when the light got into her eyes was only subdued by realizing that she was lying in Jay's bed. In Jay's room. In addition, nearly without clothes. She wondered what the hell had happened the night before. With a lot of effort, Ashley lifted out of the bed, searching for the homeowner.

“Jay?” she asked, her voice sounding a bit hoarse.

“In the kitchen”, he answered, and she headed to the right room.

“What happened last night?”

“Hm, please don’t scream”, Jay frowned as he requested. “And good morning to you, too.”

“I meant it, Jay. What happened?” Ashley leaned against the wall, holding the blanket around her. Jay came close to her, holding a glass of water and a small pill, probably an aspirin, and gave them both to her. She took them without question.

“What do you recall?” He looked at her, analyzing the girl.

It was her time to frown. Damn headache.

“Remembering hurts”, she simply stated. Jay laughed a bit, turning off the stove and distributing the boiling water into two cups, both over a small tray.

“We had our first kiss” he risked taking a glimpse her way, and she didn’t seem as confused as he thought she would be.

“Drunk first kisses don’t count”, Ashley said, as a completely neutral comment. Not as if she was saying that they needed another one to count, or wanted them to forget the whole thing had happened. She wanted to say exactly what she had said and nothing else, and Jay understood that. That was one of the reasons they became best friends in the first place.

“Strawberry tea?” he asked, even though he didn’t need an answer, knowing all too well that that was her favorite flavor.

Ashley nodded slowly as she headed for the couch, looking for Tia. It was taking a sun bath on a corner, near the window, and it looked happy. "Of course it's happy", she thought in a bitter way, "Lizards don't have headaches."

Jay sat by her side, supporting the two cups on the table in front of him. Turning to face her, he smiled wondering how she could be so adorable with a hangover. Then, he pulled her hair from her face, leaning his hand on her neck and gently pulling her close, kissing her again. It would be a lie to say that this kiss wasn’t premeditated, once Jay was thinking about it since he woke up.

"But hangover kisses count", he affirmed, before taking the cups again and giving her the one with strawberry tea.

"Hangover kisses count", Ashley timidly agreed, blowing the hot liquid before taking the first sip, as she tried to hide the little insistent smile on her lips, without much success. “So I guess we need to talk about yesterday.”

“You do remember”, he accused her.

“Some things, yeah. I guess we need to talk about it, don’t we?” Ashley moved her fingers alongside the mug, staring at the tea.

“I guess we do. But can we not, right now?” he frowned a bit and she looked at him, putting her mug on the tray again.

“You were right. I was being an idiot.”

He laughed and the sound was a mix of pleasure, because she loved his laugh, and pain, because she was hungover.

“I didn’t say that,” he stated. “You did. You called me an idiot.”

“Well, I’m correcting it now”, she said, matter-of-factly. “I think we should try.”

“What about that ‘you can’t lose me’ speech you gave yesterday in the car?”

“I won’t, will I?”

“No.”

“Then I guess it’s fine.”

“You’re such a coward”, he said.

“I was such a coward”, she corrected him. “I’m being brave now.”

Jay smiled and leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“We are.”

[souless-enby]

Peppermint Mocha

Title: Peppermint Mocha Tags: fluff, tension, happiness Warnings: Cursing (Dan Howell is one of the main characters, what do you expect.) Words: 8464 words Summary: Phil orders a peppermint mocha from a sassy barista, and manages to find himself a new friend and roommate. This is the first fic I’ve ever written, and it was originally a bday gift for @mysislovesdanhowell, so sorry if it’s not the greatest thing ever.​

Chapter 1: PHIL

      Standing in the middle of a London sidewalk, I looked up at the night sky. Snowflakes drifted through the air, dancing with the cold, biting wind. Traffic sounds accompanied the beautiful sight.

I shivered, pulling my coat hood over my head. Coffee, I told myself, would complete this wonderful evening.

Granted, there wasn’t anything actually wonderful about my life at the moment. I was struggling to pay rent, and really needed to find a roommate to help split the costs. Nothing particularly exciting was happening. But, it was a beautiful night, and what better to stave off the chill than to grab a nice cup of coffee and enjoy the snow from inside a warm shop?

Christmas lights lit up the surrounding area, as other people walked down the street.

I trudged through the slush of melted snow, making my way towards a small shop that lay a short walk from my apartment.

     The shop was my first choice merely because it was cheaper than Starbucks, and also tended to have fewer customers. The windows of the shop were lined with red and green lights, and a Christmas wreath was hung on the door.

I pushed my coat hood back as I opened the door, nearly knocking the wreath off, but saving it before I embarrassed myself. Adjusting my black fringe, I shuffled my feet against the welcome mat, shaking the accumulated slush off my shoes.

     The coffee shop was warm, cozy, and seemingly empty. The maroon walls were dimly lit by the yellow overhead lights, contrasting against the darkness outside. Soft jazz piano music played in the background.

     I had visited this small shop many times before, since it was always less crowded compared to mainstream shops. But I had never come during the evening hours, and maybe that’s why I was greeted with such a strange sight.

     A brown haired employee was resting across the counter-top, face first, his head resting in his crossed arms. Even though he wasn’t standing, I could tell he had to be tall considering his upper torso was taking up most of the counter-top.

     I coughed, not sure if the boy had heard me enter the shop, since there was no bell on the door (possibly because the shop owner couldn’t afford one.)

     The boy groaned before uttering a response. “Look, Mr. Alibee, if you want to fire me, fire me.”

     The boy seemed as done with the world as possible, and I wondered what his story was.

     “Could I get a peppermint mocha before you’re fired?” I asked with a laugh.

     I had expected the boy to shoot up from his position when he realized there was a customer in front of him, but that didn’t happen. Instead, the boy merely turned his head slightly so he could see who had spoken, then returned to his original position.

     No one spoke for a solid minute, and the silence was aided with soft jazz.

     “Don’t you think it’s better to go to a proper shop who doesn’t have a slacking employee?” The boy finally muttered into the counter.

     “Well, I’m sure you have your own reasons,” I offered.

     “I’m so tired,” the boy responded.

     “So, why work the shift?”

     “Broke.”

     “Same,” I responded, laughing slightly at the boy’s continuously monotone voice.

     The boy seemed to gain some sort of strength from my response, and slowly unmelted from the counter-top. His black uniform polo was wrinkled, and his lopsided name tag read “DANIEL.” Daniel didn’t give me a fake smile, nor did he take on proper “employee etiquette,” which was sort of refreshing. His dark brown eyes looked me over once before he spoke again.

     “Do you want cream and chocolate sauce?”

     “Yes, please.”

     The boy, Daniel, started to enter in my order into the cash register, but then suddenly stopped.

     “You know what, you’re cool. I technically can have a free drink when I’m on shift, but only crazy people drink coffee at night.” The brown haired boy realized what he’d insinuated. “NOT that you’re crazy, but… yeah, I don’t have enough energy to try and dig myself out of this one.”

     Before I could say anything, he turned around and started making my drink.

     “You really don’t need to do that,” I said, shuffling closer to the counter. “I don’t mind paying for my drink. You don’t owe me anything.”

     “You’re the first human being who has treated me as an equal all day,” Daniel responded, without turning to look at me. “I honestly should be doing more for you.”

     More jazz music filled the silence that ensued, and Daniel handed me the free drink.

     “Thank you,” I said meekly, cupping the drink in both hands.

     “Don’t mention it. If anyone asks where you got it-“

     “Say I bought it?”

     Daniel paused, mouth opened, before he finished. “I was gonna say kill em, but I suppose that works too.”

     I took a sip from the mocha, enjoying the sweet peppermint.

     Daniel seemed to be watching me for some sort of reaction, so I smiled. “It is very good!”

     “You sicko. Coffee at night. And not only that, but PEPPERMINT coffee.” He shook his head in disgust, returning to his slouch against the counter.

     “Hey, I didn’t insult your favourite holiday treat.”

     Dan groaned something into his arms, his face hidden once again.

     I debated for a minute whether or not to return to my apartment, then decided and sat in the chair nearest the counter.

     Daniel peeked out from his headrest of flesh. “What are you doin’?”

     “You won’t get in trouble if I just hang out here, will you? I’ll stay out of the way if it gets busy.”

     “Ha. Not bloody likely. No one else in London is weird like you and goes out for coffee this late.” Daniel propped himself onto his elbows, studying me more intently now. “Why are you doing this?”

     “Why’d you give me a free coffee?”

     “I said why. You’re chill. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to stay.”

     I shrugged, taking another sip of my coffee. “It’s cold out.”

     Daniel did not seem to buy my excuse, as he gave me a sassy look. “You walked through all this fuckery for coffee, pretty sure you can walk your lanky self back to whatever weird place you came from.”

     “This coffee is good!” I defended myself. “I don’t have the same chocolate sauce that you guys have!”

     “Mm-Hm,” Dan just shook his head at me.

     “Maybe I just want to stay and talk? Is there anything wrong with that?”

     Smooth jazz once again filled the air as Daniel pondered over this.

     “I suppose,” he finally said, “it’s no weirder than you getting coffee at 8:47pm.” With that, Daniel hoisted himself onto the counter, not seeming worried about getting in trouble. He sat, facing me, and adjusting his fringe. His hairstyle was almost exactly like my own, but the fringe towards the left, the opposite side of mine. “So,” Daniel said slowly, drawing out the word, “what’s your name?”

     “Phil,” I responded, taking another sip of my drink.

     Dan smiled a little, which was the first sign of any real emotion from him besides sass and sleepiness. “Peppermint Phil,” he said. “Shouldn’t be hard to remember with that alliteration.”

     I laughed. “Please don’t use that.”

     “Too late, that’s how I’ve memorized your name now. Persistent Peppermint Phil.”      “Thanks.”

     “You’re welcome. Consider your new name an early Christmas gift, friend.”

     I looked at the tall boy that was lazily sitting on the countertop. “So I’ve managed to become your friend?” I asked, semi-surprised, but also quite pleased.

     Dan looked at his feet. “I mean, I don’t really have friends, but I think when two people voluntarily hang out with each other, that’s what the relationship is called.”

     I smiled. “You know, Daniel, you don’t have to pretend to be suave. I would be happy to be your friend.”

     Daniel’s head whipped up to look at me. “How do you know my name?”

     “Uh, you’re wearing a name tag?” I said, pointing at the tag on his shirt.

     Daniel looked down to verify, and then rolled his eyes at himself, giving a little sigh. “Was worried you were some creepy stalker person for a split second.”

     “Would a creepy stalker person order a peppermint mocha at 8:50pm?” I asked.

     Daniel shrugged. “Dunno, I’m not in that line of work. And it was 8:47pm.”

     “Who’s the stalker now, remembering all these details about me?” I asked, smirking.

     Daniel’s face turned cherry red. “That’s NOT what I was getting at, you twat! I- I just have a good memory for details!”

     I took another sip of my mocha, still smirking. “Riiiiight.”

     Daniel crossed his arms in a pout, face still red. “Fuck you.”

     “You’d like to, huh?” The opportunity for such a comment was way too good.

     Daniel stammered for a moment, attempting to think of a witty comeback.

     I felt bad for overwhelming him. I wasn’t that sort of person, and I didn’t want to scare him off. “I’m just playing with you, ” I reassured him. “I don’t want to make you hate me.”

     He closed his mouth for a moment before responding. “I won’t hate you, I just don’t have a lot of people to trade banter with.”

     I finished my coffee, throwing the cup away. I grabbed a paper napkin, scribbling my name and phone number on it, then walked back towards the boy on the countertop. He looked up at me from where he sat, his fringe brushing over his brown eyes.

     “If you want, we can practice more banter again some other time?” I offered him the napkin.

     Daniel looked down at my offering for a moment before accepting it. “I’d like that.”

     I smiled at him, and then started to walk out the door. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Daniel.”

     “Same, Peppermint Phil. And, please, call me Dan.”

     Chapter 2: DAN

     “Ffffffffff” I hissed as soon as the door was closed behind Phil, and I could no longer see him out the damned coffee shop’s window.

     “Real smooth, Dan,” I criticized myself. “Spend all that time being sassy internally, practicing conversations, thinkin’ you’re so cool. But as soon as a tall, dark haired beauty comes in, BAM. Where were your fucking words then, ya moron?”

     I pulled at my hair a little, and then realized I was talking to myself again. Making fun of him for getting coffee at 8:47pm, but then turning around and talking to yourself. Makes perfect sense.

     I locked the front door and began closing up the shop. I had the last shift of the day, and honestly, the shop’s hours should change so it closes a lot earlier. No one ever buys anything during the night shift. Except for this night.

     On the walk home, I wondered how long I should wait to contact Phil. Would it seem weird if I texted him now?

     I mean, I do need to program the number into my phone. Surely it’s not weird to text him to make sure I have the right number.

     I climbed the steps to my apartment. Usually, I would have been cursing the fact that I lived on the fourth floor with no lift.

     Tonight, I was too excited about my new friend to care about stairs. I was so excited, in fact, that I almost ignored the piece of paper taped to my door.

     My heart sank. I knew what the paper’s contents were. I was highly aware of the fact the I hadn’t been able to make rent in a long time.

EVICTION NOTICE

     I had two weeks to find a new place and move out of my apartment.

Chapter 3: PHIL

     It was rather shameful how closely I watched my phone while waiting for Dan to contact me. I didn’t know if he’d be all cool and wait 24 hours before texting me, or if he’d try immediately. Or, the more likely option, he actually hated me and would quit his job and move out of the country to avoid ever coming into contact with me again.

     Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when my phone buzzed to alert me of an incoming text message.

Hey, is this the right number?

     Even though I was super excited, I tried to play it cool.

     Depends on who you’re searching for ;)

     My excitement shifted to concern after reading Dan’s next text.

     I’m sorry, I know we literally just met, but… I need some advice.

     My mind was racing with hundreds of ideas as to what the problem was.

Don’t apologize. What’s up?

I just got an eviction notice, and I honestly have no idea what I should do.

     The easiest solution came to mind immediately: I needed a roommate, he could easily move in with me. The cost would be ridiculously manageable between two people. But, I didn’t want to scare Dan away by seeming too eager.

     I assume you don’t have any family to stay with, since you asking me. Would it be fair to appeal the eviction?

     No, it was justified. And, you’re right, my family and I aren’t on the best of terms at the moment. I can’t possibly ask them for help… but then again, I guess I might have to.

     For a split second, I considered the fact that I just met this guy. Then, I figured, if he turned out to be a crazy person, I COULD just kick him out.

     Well, not to seem overwhelming, but I actually need a roommate right now. You weren’t kicked out because of anything too bad, right?

     Couldn’t make rent on time the past few months. I’d hate to intrude… especially since you don’t really know me.

     No, seriously, you’d be doing ME a favor.

…how much per month?

He was actually CONSIDERING this! I was so exciting that my hands were shaking as I typed.

Can you afford $140 the first month, and then we can adjust things as you become more stable?

Easily yes. My apartment now is costing me way more than that.

     Sounds like that’s settled then! When do you want to move in?

I mean, I suppose the sooner the better? I don’t work tomorrow, and I don’t have a lot of crap. Or is that way too soon?

Tomorrow works fine for me. Do you need any help?

Just let me inside when I get there?

It was actually happening. I couldn’t stop grinning. Soon I’d have a new roommate.

What time were you thinking, so I can be sure to be awake?

Oh don’t worry, it’ll likely be around 5pm before I intrude.

Dan, you’re going to be LIVING with me. It’s not intruding.

…thank you so much, Phil. You have no idea how thankful I am.

Well, consider this payback for the free mocha. ☺️

Chapter 3: DAN

I let out a sigh of relief as I strode up to the door with the number Phil had texted me that morning. All of my things fit into one suitcase, so there hadn’t been a need to put off getting out of that awful apartment. For being so expensive, it was a pretty tiny shit hole.

I inhaled deeply, fixing my fringe before knocking on Phil’s door. As I did so, I realized I didn’t even know this guy’s last name. He could have been a serial killer for all I knew. But, a serial killer offering me a place to stay after a mere free peppermint mocha, nonetheless.

The door opened, and Phil stood there with a huge smile on his face. “Hey!”

My memory hadn’t been fucking with me, he was quite beautiful. His black fringe was styled in the literal opposite direction as mine. The color contrast made his blue eyes seem even more striking.

I realized I had stopped breathing and hadn’t actually said anything.

“Er, uh, hey,” I managed.

Real fucking smooth, Dan Howell.

Phil just smiled even more. He gestured for me to enter. “Come on in! I cleared out the second bedroom, so you can go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

The apartment was so much nicer than my old place. Phil had the whole place decorated with random pieces of furniture that didn’t seem to actually go together. Yet, despite all the mismatched bright colors, it suited Phil.

I entered the blue-carpeted living room, which had a black sofa sitting in front of a TV, which was still on, showing the pause screen to Skyrim. Multitudes of games were piled next to the TV, not in any specific order.

“Sorry I didn’t clean up very much,” Phil apologized, picking up a bright green throw pillow from the floor and placing it back on the couch. “I mainly focused on making sure the bathroom was cleaned.”

I gave a small laugh, still looking around the room. It honestly was clean, just made very cozy by the obvious signs that someone else lived here. “It’s very nice, Phil.”

Phil smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Come on, I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

Chapter 4: PHIL

Dan seemed pretty nervous to be in a new place, so I made sure to leave him alone for a while so he could get situated. I didn’t want to seem overwhelming to him.

“Come out when you’re done,” I had told him, after showing him to the room across from mine, “we can go out and get whatever supplies you might need, after you’re done unpacking.”

“Thanks,” Dan had said, still seeming to be taking everything in.

I really hoped the place wasn’t too disappointing for him.

Less than 20 minutes later, Dan exited the room. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black skinny jeans, and his hair had started to stick up a little in places.

“Done already?” I asked, disbelieving. Granted, there wasn’t a ton in the room, but it usually took me twenty minutes just to put sheets on the bed. There was at least a bed in Dan’s new room, as well as a closet, and a dresser. Surely he hadn’t finished unpacking.

Dan shuffled his feet. “I, um, don’t have a lot to unpack,” he reminded me.

I squinted my eyes at him. “Can I see the room?”

Dan opened his mouth as though to protest, but I went ahead and opened the door.

The room looked almost untouched. There was an emptied suitcase by the bare bed, and the closet had a few items of black clothing, along with two pairs of shoes. A sleeping bag sat on the bed, still rolled up.

I looked back at Dan, who wouldn’t meet my gaze. “You didn’t have a bed before?” I asked him, almost disbelieving.

He shrugged. “It didn’t come with the place, and I can’t afford it.”

I shook my head, and then suddenly made up my mind. “We’re going out shopping.”

Dan winced. “About that… I can’t really afford a lot right now. The best I can do is pay the rent, and get a little bit of food.”

I walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dan finally looked up at me.

“I’ll pay for the bedding, along with any other things you need for now,” I told him.

Dan shook his head, looking back down. “You’re already letting me stay here, you really don’t have to-“

“Oh hush,” I interrupted him. “It’s not that big of a deal, and I’m not going to let you just sleep in a sleeping bag.”

I headed towards the door, grabbing my coat. Dan was following behind like a sad pet. I suddenly realized the poor guy was not wearing any sort of jacket. He was wearing merely a black jumper for warmth along with his skinny jeans and sneakers.

“Dan,” I said slowly, “do you have a coat?”

Dan looked very embarrassed. “It’s not that far of a walk….”

It was 2 degrees outside. No way was I going to let him walk around like that. I handed Dan my coat. “Wear this.”

Dan looked at my coat in his hands. “But, Phil-“

“No. Wear it. I have other things in my room for me to wear instead, so hold up.”

After sprinting to my closet and grabbing an older coat, I returned to the living room to see Dan wearing my black coat. It suited him, honestly. The hood was bunched up around his neck, messing up the back of his hair. Dan was busy trying to fix the hood, and hadn’t noticed me. For a few seconds, I watched him struggle with trying to fix the fabric, but then I walked forward.

“Here, let me….” I was standing behind Dan, and reached forward to simply tug the hood free.

Dan, however, must have been startled by my sudden appearance, and attempted to whip around the face me, and probably argue against me helping him.

Instead, he tripped over his own ankles while turning, and knocked into me. Any other human being probably would have been all cool and heroic, catching Dan before he fell too far, and then laughing off the event.

I, however, must have used up all my “heroic points of the day” by offering Dan my coat.  I completely fell backwards against the couch. Dan landed on top of me, his head hitting my chest.

We both froze for a moment, neither of us really sure what had just happened. I didn’t move, not wanting to cause Dan to fall to the floor. Dan was stunned for a brief moment, then his eyes met mine and widened.

     Wow, his eyes were pretty.

“I’m sorry! Sorry!” Dan quickly scrabbled to get off of me, almost tripping again when his foot found a cushion that was resting on the floor.

Even though I’d been surprised as well, I started laughing. “It’s okay, Dan,” I reassured, sitting up and helping him to steady himself.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“You’re fine!” I laughed, standing up.

Dan still looked uncertain, but I smiled at him.

“Sorry I didn’t catch you,” I apologized, reaching up slowly and fixing Dan’s hood.

Dan seemed paralyzed, until he realized I was reaching for the hood, and not for his face.

“Thanks,” he breathed.

“No problem,” I murmured, smiling at him.

Don’t creep him out, dummy.

“Look,” I said, “I am going to buy you basic things for living, but I also don’t want to seem weird. Is that okay? Can we just agree to be completely open with each other?”

Dan smiled at me, and I saw a flicker of his old sass. “You drink coffee at night, of course you seem weird to me.”

I smacked him playfully with my coat sleeve. “I just don’t want to scare you off. I want to help you.”

Dan looked down again, but he was still smiling. “Okay.”

Chapter Five: DAN

Not even an hour with Phil, and I’d already managed to top my most awkwardest moment. Probably wouldn’t have been so awkward for me if it weren’t for the fact that I definitely had a crush on him. I about crushed my crush by toppling onto him.

Phil did not seem phased by the past events, and was very invested in picking out bedclothes for me.

“This one?” Phil asked, pointing to a bright blue set of sheets that came with a darker blue duvet.

“Riiight,” I said, sarcastically. “Because that so matches my bright personality. You sure you’re not picking things out that you like?”

Phil rolled his eyes at me, still shuffling through sets of sheets. “Well, it’s not like you’re giving me your opinion.”

I still couldn’t figure out why he would be doing all this for me. I was a total stranger to him.

“Fine, since we’re friends now, let’s make this a game,” I suggested.

Phil raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

I gestured to my apparel. “What do you think my favorite color is?”

Phil frowned, obviously remembering my closet. “Maybe you’re too poor to afford anything that brings happiness to your life?”

I smacked him playfully on the arm, laughing. “Come on, no! Black suits me the most. Dark colors match my soul.”

Phil gave me a side eye. “Well, I mean, I always thought of sass as being a bright pink or teal, but oooookay.”

“You think I’d suit pink bed sheets?” I asked skeptically.

Phil raised his hands defensively. “You mentioned how the color had to match your soul!”

“And my soul is bright pink?”

“You know what, here is some black and grey themed sheets, we’re getting these, and laying this conversation to rest.” Phil grabbed a set of sheets, and started walking away from the bed supplies.

I shook my head, laughing, and followed Phil.

Chapter Six: PHIL

 I had made a mistake, and I knew it.

“Now I want to know,” Dan began, “what else you think suits me, from your first impressions.”

“Not pink, apparently,” I said, moving towards the winter apparel. Dan looked nice in my coat, but he probably wouldn’t want to borrow it long term.

“Come on,” Dan pleaded. “I’ll even go first.”

I couldn’t help but give in to him. “Fiiine.”

Dan grinned. “I found you to be super tall.”

“Hey, come on, that’s cheap,” I protested.

“Well, I mean,” Dan argued, “it counts as a first impression.”

I sighed, and then turned to a clothing rack, gesturing for him to look through it. “Pick something you’d like.”

Dan started shuffling through the coats. “I’m waiting,” he said.

I thought for a moment, watching Dan as he examined a (surprise) black coat.

I knew I could take the opportunity to actually tell him what I’d ACTUALLY thought, but I was also still slightly worried.

“I thought you seemed… very tired. I wanted to know what could make someone so pretty-“

Dan’s eyes shot up from the coat.

“done with the world,” I added on.

Dan almost looked disappointed, or maybe I was imagining things.

“…okay,” he admitted.

“Your turn,” I prompted.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

I laughed. “Did that count as a first impression?”

Dan’s face turned red. “NO. However, you just reminded me how much of a twat I thought you were.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was? So you think I’m less so now?”

Dan gave a sigh of exasperation, and I laughed.

A shrill voice from down the aisle suddenly cut into the air. “Dan?!”

Dan looked very confused for a split second, and then his eyes widened. “Shit,” he hissed.

I frowned, turning around to see a tiny blonde woman, roughly the same age as Dan, grinning so widely I was worried her spray tan would rub off onto her teeth. She gave a little shriek as she walked over to us.

Dan looked like he’d rather melt into the rack of coats and never be seen again. “Help,” he muttered.

“Dan, it’s been forever! I’ve been meaning to call and catch up!” The woman, who’s blonde hair I now realized was incredibly fake, looked me up and down, trying to pin point what my purpose was.

“What have you been… doing?” She spit out the word doing as though my very existence was offensive.

Dan took that venom as a challenge, and suddenly shifted so as to stand very close to me, one hand resting behind my back.

I tried not to act too startled, but instead focused on smiling at the incredibly shrill voice woman.

Dan, however, had A+ acting skills, and seemed to lean into me even more. “Ah, yeah, Debbie,” he said, with what I realized must have been the same voice he used with regular customers at the coffee shop: sweet, yet full of hate. “I’m actually very busy helping my boyfriend grab his dad a gift for his birthday before he has to go back to work. “

Debbie’s smile wavered a slight bit, and she actually took a step back. “Oh. Well. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Yeah, we won’t,” Dan agreed, his voice full of poison.

Debbie stood there for a second, and then glared at me before turning to leave. “Nice to see you’re doing well, Dan.”

“Nice to see you too,” Dan replied, still managing to keep that fake grin on his face.

Once Debbie was definitely out of hearing distance, Dan backed away.

“Woah,” I breathed. I could feel myself blushing.

“Yeah, sorry, she is 100% crazy, and I knew she wouldn’t stick around if she thought I was with someone….”

“No,” I shook my head, “YOU. You’re an incredible liar.”

Dan shrugged modestly, looking back at the coats. “I did theater all through high-school, I know what I’m about.”

I stared at him.

“What?” He finally asked, grabbing the coat after checking the price tag (which I could see marked it as one of the cheapest coats.)

“We promised to be totally honest with each other, right?” I asked. “So you’ll never do anything like that to me? Lie like you did to that woman?”

Dan laughed, and then surprised me with a hug. “You could never ever scare me as badly as Debbie does. I’d never have to lie to you.” He pulled away.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“By the way,” he said, looking puzzled. “What is your last name? I realized at the door to your apartment that I only knew you as Peppermint Phil, and that you could be a serial killer.

I laughed. “Phil Lester. And it’s OUR apartment, not just mine.”

Dan smiled, and I saw more warmth in his eyes. I didn’t want that glow to ever stop. “What’s your full name?” I asked.

“Dan Howell.”

Chapter seven: DAN

Phil and I wasted most of the night playing Skyrim. It cracked me up when I realized that Phil actually refused to swear.

“Come on,” I’d encouraged him. “Just say it. Fuck.”

Phil laughed a little, while looking super uncomfortable. “I can’t!”

“Fuck.”

“No!”

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Stop!” Phil smacked me with one of the many pillows he had lying around. The pillows were like rabbits, multiplying and popping up at random times.

“Come ooooon,” I pressed him, leaning closer.

“Nooooo!” Phil protested, though we were both laughing at this point.

“Why not?” I finally asked.

“It just… feels wrong!” He shook his head. “What if I made it a habit and accidentally said it in front of a baby?!”

I scoffed. “Like a baby will care. It’s an overgrown potato. It doesn’t understand.”

“It’s a pure little child! I don’t want it to hear that!”

I leaned close to Phil’s ear, breathing into it before whispering softly.

“Fuck.”

I received another pillow to the face.

Chapter eight: PHIL

Dan was just as much fun to hang out with as I had thought. I was thankful I had pillows to hit him with though. I don’t think Dan realized how badly I wanted to kiss him when he’d leaned in to tease me about not cursing. His lips looked so soft and irresistible.

I doubted he was even interested.

While I was traipsing through the countryside in Skyrim, I decided to ask about the events that had happened earlier that day.

“So, Dan, that girl from earlier?”

Dan stiffened. “Debbie?”

I nodded. I wasn’t upset with Dan, so I didn’t understand why he’d be nervous. “Mind giving me some backstory?”

Dan sighed. “When I was younger, and dumber, I went out with this girl from highschool just because I thought she looked attractive.”

I turned to look at him, disbelieving. “You thought SHE was attractive?”

“Okay, first,” Dan defended himself, “she started destroying her body AFTER we broke up. Second, I honestly thought she was the best I could do….”

“Dan,” I said softly, “you could do so much better than her.”

Dan smiled a little, his eyes shifting down to the ground.

I reminded myself that I didn’t want to scare him off, and I coughed. “So, why’d you guys break up?”

“She was homophobic,” Dan said bluntly.

I couldn’t help wincing. I was bi, so that always hit close to home.

“Which,” Dan continued, “was personally offensive, since I’m bi.”

I examined Dan’s expression. He was still looking down, but I could tell he was waiting for my reaction.

“That could put a damper on a relationship,” I admitted, laughing a little.

“No kidding,” Dan said, sighing.

“Well,” I said slowly, “you’ll never have to worry about me being homophobic, considering I’m bi.”

Now it was my turn to wait for a reaction.

Dan’s head whipped up to face me, and I smiled at him.

“Not that I’m trying to, uh, trying to suggest that you’d ever have to, um… think about us… in a relationship, or whatever,” I said, trying to maintain the ORIGINAL PLAN of NOT CREEPING HIM OUT.

Dan laughed at me. “I mean, we’re in a relationship. A friendship is a form of relationship, and I am loving it thus far.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “I’m glad.”

“Also,” Dan said, “thanks for going along with being my ‘boyfriend’ earlier. I’m sorry for just forcing you into it.”

“Oh,” I said, totally forgetting the plan of not creeping him out, “you never have to worry, I’ll always be willing.”

Dan’s eyes glowed with that warmth again as he smiled at me.

I was tempted to pursue the topic, but then a dragon appeared on Skyrim, and killed the topic train for the night.

As I lay in bed that night, I fell asleep with that smile from Dan vivid in my mind.

Chapter nine: DAN

It was roughly 3am, and I was still lying in bed, wide awake.

I’d always had trouble falling asleep, but tonight was especially difficult. 

I’ll always be willing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was Phil just being naturally flirty? Or was he seriously trying to get my attention? No matter the motive, either way, he had my attention.

I groaned at my obsession. If I was still worried about it in the morning, I would just tell Phil my thoughts. We’d agreed to be open with each other, after all.

I heard footsteps somewhere in the apartment, and I stiffened. 

Then the door across the hall opened, and I tried to calm myself down. Phil probably had woken up to use the bathroom. Not a big deal. Totally not coming to confess his love to me. 

Totally not actually coming to murder me.

My bedroom door opened.

I lay very still, watching silently as Phil walked into my room.

I held my breath as Phil’s body shape was illuminated by the faint light leaking through my window.

He just stood there for a moment, until I finally got up the nerve to say something. 

“Phil?” I whispered, not sure what was happening.

Phil didn’t speak, but instead came closer to my bed. Now that he was closer, I realized he definitely was not awake. His eyes were staring forward into nothingness, and he didn’t seem to register I was there.

“Phil!” I said, slightly louder.

The tall boy mumbled something that I couldn’t understand, and then sat next to me on the bed.

I wasn’t sure what to do when someone was sleep walking, but I didn’t want to just let him wander around.

“Phil,” I hissed under my breath, shaking his shoulder slightly.

Phil turned, still looking beyond me. “Mm?”

“You’re not in your room!” I whispered.

Phil still wasn’t comprehending. 

I sighed, sitting up. “Phil, you gotta go back to bed.”

Phil nodded, and I thought I was making progress.

“Back to bed,” I instructed softly, “warm bed.”

Phil smiled very groggily. “Warm….”

Then he hugged me, surprising me and causing me to fall back to the bed.

“Phil!” I hissed.

“Mmmm….” Phil mumbled, resting his head on my chest, wrapping his arms around my torso, lying down more comfortably against me.

There was no way Phil couldn’t hear my heart pounding out of my chest.

Briefly, I thanked God for the fact that I had the blankets in between us.

No sooner had I thought that, then sleepwalking Phil completely shifted to move the covers on top of both of us, before settling back into his original position.

I struggled momentarily before sighing, giving up on moving him myself. Every time I shifted, Phil held on to me tighter.

I lay there for a moment, thinking about my options. If I just fell asleep like this, Phil would probably wake up mortified.

On the other hand, he was so, so warm and cuddly, and he seemed so happy sleeping against me.

I shook my head.

I couldn’t have Phil acting weird in the morning. I wanted him as a friend. Possibly more? This would likely kill any chance of that when he woke up in the morning.

“Phil,” I said more sternly, “you can’t sleep here. You have to go back to your bed. You won’t like this in the morning.”

Phil shifted to look up at me from his chosen spot. He mumbled something totally incoherent, but acted deadly serious, as though he was pouring his soul out to me. His beautiful eyes glittered in the darkness as he stared at me intently.

Then, he tilted his head upward and, ever so gently, kissed my cheek.

I couldn’t breathe.

Phil smiled, patted the top of my head, and then returned to his resting position, hugging me tightly.

Fuck.

I debated internally for a few moments, listening to Phil’s breathing as he fell into a deep sleep.

…fuck.

I knew Phil would probably care in the morning, and it was probably very wrong of me….

But I hugged Phil against me, and finally was able to fall asleep.

Chapter ten: PHIL

     I blinked against the morning light. Rolling my head to the other side, I groaned into my pillow.

     That’s when I realized my pillow was breathing.

     My eyes snapped open. I wasn’t in my room, or in my own bed.

     My arms were wrapped around Dan’s torso, and my head was resting against his chest.

     Dan was still sleeping, looking incredibly peaceful, his beautiful face completely relaxed.

     Mentally, I was freaking out. Why was I in Dan’s bed?

     Calm down, there has to be a logical explanation.

I realized I must have slept-walked. My mom used to tease me about it when I was little, but I had thought I’d outgrown it.

Apparently not.

I didn’t want to wake Dan by moving, but I also didn’t want to wait for him to wake up and see this. It was possible that he was a super deep sleeper, and I could slip away before he noticed. In fact, Dan HAD to be a deep sleeper. How else would I have ended up here? Surely Dan wouldn’t have just willingly let me crawl into bed with him. Right?

Very slowly, I tried to ease my arm out from underneath Dan without waking him.

I’d barely pried myself away at all when Dan rolled over, hugging me to him.

I froze, not sure what to do. My face was pressed into his chest, Dan’s arms wrapped around me, both of us lying on our sides.

“Fuck,” Dan muttered. “Do you know how rude it is to wake someone up at this hour?” Dan mumbled. “Sinful.”

I was completely frozen, unsure what exactly was happening. “Dan, I’m sorry, I-“

“Shhhh,” Dan pushed a finger to my lips. “You’re magical, but you need to shut up.”

Dan yawned, stretching slightly. He reminded me of a cat, with how relaxed he was.

This position would have normally made me ecstatic, but given the circumstances, I was super embarrassed.

A few minutes later, Dan started kneading his fingers into my back muscles. “So tense,” he mumbled.

“Wha-what are you doing?”

“Making you un-tense.”

“Why?”

“Tense pillow…not good….”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Dan blearly opened his eyes. Somehow, even though he had just woken up, he still looked incredible. His messy hair stuck up in patches, making him look even cuter. He smiled sleepily at me.

“Look, I know you must be nervous, scared, confused, and whatnot. But, to be perfectly honest….” Dan closed his eyes in bliss. “I haven’t slept like that in… ever. I’ve battled with insomnia for years, and even when I finally sleep, it’s very restless. I feel…absolutely heavenly right now.”

Dan looked so happy, I couldn’t help but let my embarrassment wear away. “You’re…not upset or weirded out?” I asked him, doubting my luck.

Dan smiled again. “I’m thankful, Phil. Do you have any idea how many weird things I’ve tried hoping they would help me fall asleep? Only to find out having a cute guy cuddle me to sleep fixed my problem?”

I could feel myself blushing. “Did you just call me cute?”

Dan shrugged. “I mean, you friggin’ climbed into my bed last night and refused to move, so unless it makes you uncomfortable, I’m gonna call you whatever I like.”

I laughed, and then hugged Dan back. I could feel his body tense in surprise for a moment, and then relax into mine as he whispered, “thank you.”

Chapter eleven: DAN

 The rest of the day wasn’t as awkward as I had worried about the night before. We both got up, and I got ready for my work shift while Phil made coffee.

“So, what do you do for a living?” I asked Phil as I ate cereal.

Phil was making himself comfortable on the sofa with his laptop and coffee. “Oh, mainly video editing and graphic design for a few different companies. Nothing flashy, but it pays well enough.”

I blinked in surprise and admiration. “Wow. You are full of surprises.”

Phil shrugged, smiling modestly. “What? Did you think I was a hit-man or something?”

I smiled. “Honestly, I am not sure what to expect from someone who orders a Peppermint Mocha at 8:47pm.”

“Oh, come on!” Phil laughed. “It’s perfectly normal!”

“Riiiight. Pretty sure, as a barista, I know what’s normal.”

“Well, maybe you’re just a weird barista!”

“Phil, out of the two of us, I don’t think it’s me who is weird.”

As I put my coat on, I realized that I still hadn’t actually talked to Phil about my feelings towards him. Just because he’d slept-walked his way into my bed didn’t necessarily mean that he’d consider doing anything more.

I glanced at the guy who had wandered his way into my life and drastically changed it.

I made a decision to talk to him after my shift, even though I’d probably be super nervous until then.

“I’m heading out,” I informed him, “I get off at 5pm.”

Phil looked a little sad. “Okay. Want me to walk with you?”

I shook my head. ”Nah, I’ll be okay, you stay cozy.”

Phil smiled appreciatively. “See ya!”

Chapter twelve: PHIL

I was amazed at how normal Dan had acted after last night. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but I was kinda hurt that he could just sleep with someone, and then not change his behavior at all.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on editing.

Even though I honestly adored Dan, I refused to make any more moves until I knew what he wanted. I’d slept with him. It was his turn to make a move.

Chapter twelve 2/4: DAN

     Work passed by so slowly that I wanted to die. I’d decided I was going to bring Phil a peppermint mocha and confess to him.

     I knew that this time I was being the fucking creepy one, since we had literally just met a few days ago, but I was so entranced by everything that he did that I couldn’t just leave this alone. I needed to let him know what he was doing to me. My life seemed to finally have some meaning to it. I actually had something worth living for.

     Throughout most of my life, I’d struggled with finding a meaning and purpose. Honestly, I’d been depressed. Why was I alive? Nothing really seemed to matter.

     But now, Phil mattered. Getting through the end of my fucking shift definitely mattered.

Chapter twelve ¾: PHIL

     At 4:35pm, I caved and decided to go wait for Dan outside of his work. I had to see him, and I wanted to actually tell him what I felt.

     Spending the past four hours thinking about how I felt about him, how much I adored his presence, how badly I just wanted to be with him all the time….

     Yeah, I’d totally forgotten that whole “let Dan make a move first” thing.

Chapter thirteen: DAN

     I grabbed a peppermint mocha as I left the shop, my replacement being a bit of a bitch about me grabbing a large.

     “You know how much sugar that has?” the bratty girl said, disgusted.

     “Not enough to sweeten your shitty personality,” I responded flatly. I was done, and honestly didn’t care. I had Phil to look forward to.

     I ran out of the shop, ignoring my pissed off coworker. As I turned towards the apartment, I smacked into a six-foot tall giant.

     “I’m sorry!” I apologized, struggling to protect the coffee, which thankfully hadn’t spilled too much.

     I felt hands around my shoulders stabilizing me, and I looked up to see Phil.

     “Careful,” he said, smiling. “Don’t want you to spill your precious coffee at FIVE o’ CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON, you hypocrite!”

     I blinked at him, and then realized what he was saying. “YOU TWAT, I GOT THIS FOR YOU.”

     Phil looked surprised, both at my shouting, and the new information. “You got me another mocha?”

     I frowned, pouting. “Maybe I’ll just toss it out, since you’re being all rude.”

     “No no no!” Phil protested, grabbing for the coffee.

     I turned, not letting him grab it. “Look,” I said, closing my eyes, “I want to tell you something, while I still have the guts to do it, and then I’ll give you the damn coffee, okay?”

     Phil stopped, surprised. “Okay. I had something to tell you too….”

     “Well, it can wait. I waited my entire shift to tell you this. Just, let me get this out.”

Phil nodded. “Go ahead.”

I faced Phil, taking a deep breath. “I- I really like you, Phil. A lot.”

I looked up at Phil, and then kept going. “It’s not just me appreciating everything you’ve done for me. Although, I do! I so greatly appreciate everything….”

Phil was smiling at me. I pressed forward.

“You’re so fucking cute, and nice, and I really want to spend every moment with you. I want to get to know you.”

“Dan….”

“And I don’t want you to give me any shit about us sleeping together last night, because I honestly fucking loved that. You’ve given me a reason to live, Phil. Do you have any idea how depressed I was? How much I wanted to die, because I honestly couldn’t see any point to living?”

“Dan, I-“

“No, Phil, I want to be with you. I want to continue having a purpose, I want to continue being able to sleep peacefully, I want to continue getting you coffee at weird hours.”

“Dan!” Phil said, laughing softly.

I looked up at him, his blue eyes regarding me with so much warmth. He outstretched his arms, and pulled me against him, hugging me tightly, thankfully not crushing the coffee.

“I want to date you,” I said into his coat.

I felt Phil chuckle, and kiss the top of my head. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he muttered into my ear.

I could feel my face turning red, and I pulled away slightly to look at him. “I’m serious, Phil!”

Phil kissed me, pulling me closer against him.

My brain completely froze.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Dan Howell?” Phil whispered, our faces inches from each other.

I couldn’t help feeling cheated. “I FUCKING POURED OUT MY HEART TO YOU!” I nearly shouted. “You can’t just wait until the end of my speech, STEAL A FUCKING KISS, and then ask me the same question I wanted to ask you!”

Phil laughed at my outrage, hugging me again. “But will you be my boyfriend?”

I huffed, but hugged him back. “Only if you’ll be mine, you peppermint weirdo.”

“You’re dating this peppermint weirdo now, so what does that say about you?”

“You can’t kinkshame me, that’s against the dating rules.”

Phil and I kissed outside the godforsaken coffee shop where we had both met, letting the coffee get cold, and feeling the snow fall into our hair.

Chapter fourteen: PHIL

     I was very glad that I had decided to meet Dan after his shift.

     Back at home, Dan passed me the peppermint mocha that he’d pulled out of the microwave. “Careful,” he warned, “it’s hot.”

I smirked. “This coffee isn’t the only thing that’s hot.”

Dan’s face went red, but he looked at me like I’d assaulted him. “That was possibly the worst pick-up line ever.”

I took that as a personal challenge. I set the coffee down on the table. “Can you hold my hand? Because I wanna be able to tell my friends I’ve been touched by an angel.”

Dan laughed, but he was getting even redder. “ohmygod stoooop!”

“What kind of material is your shirt made out of? Boyfriend material?”

Dan started hitting me with one of my pillows while laughing and telling me to shut up.

“Are you my appendix? Because I don’t really know what you do, but this feeling in my stomach really makes me want to take you out.”

“You’re fuckin nasty,” Dan shouted, still hitting me with a pillow. He was standing on his knees on top of the couch now, leaning over me.

I fell back onto the couch, and Dan lost his balance and fell on top of me, the pillow in between us as we laughed.

Dan’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at me, and I felt overwhelmed with happiness. His face was so close to mine that I could feel him breathing.

As Dan’s eyes softened, I gently caressed the back of his head, guiding his lips towards mine.

Kissing Dan was amazing. His hand found its way to the back of my head, and I felt his fingers running through my hair as we kissed.

However long we stayed like that, it wasn’t long enough. Dan eventually pulled back slightly, resting his forehead on top of mine and sighing peacefully.

“I love you, Phil.”

I smiled, so blissfully happy. “I love you too, Dan.”

[midknightmasquerade]

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Fandom: Radiata Stories (PS2) Characters: Jack Russell & Flora Additional Tags: Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Relationships, Bonding, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss of Parent(s)

Summary: Jack's lingering in the Olacion Order post-sermon leads to a connection between two orphaned protégés that neither of them had expected.

He had never been much for prayer.

Yet she can't help but wonder, when he sits there smiling at her, all shining teeth and goofy grins - why stay after a sermon if not to talk to the gods?

"Is there something on your mind, Jack?" The question poses no threat. Her eyes, however, appraise his reaction with particular interest. An answer existed somewhere beneath the surface of that wide-eyed wonder. Of that, she was certain.

The dopey grin she receives in response, however, would have made anyone wonder whether anything of substance stood behind that absent stare. "Who, me? Nah, I'm just enjoying the afterparty."

Said afterparty, of course, consisted solely of Flora, still sweeping up after Eugene spilled something suspiciously similar to liquor next to the altar, and Alvin, delivering a passionate manifesto about the importance of preparedness to the empty pews. Jack listens in on the lecture with something akin to mock agreement, grin a bit too toothy to pass for plain. Truth be told, Alvin did make for an amusing sight. All that sweat simply from flailing his limbs. He might be the first martyr to die from self-inflicted dehydration should he keep his sermon going.

Turning his attention aside from Alvin, hoping to keep out of the spit zone, Jack rocks back and forth off the edge of the pew. His boots scuff the edges of the holy texts stowed beneath them. Master Kain might have keeled over if he noticed the new dirt stains on the Psalm of Enjela. Flora makes a mental note not to mention where Jack sat in service today. "Why d'ya ask?"

"Because most people don't decide to stay and watch us sweep after service."

Wide eyes etch his shock clear as day into his face. That cheekiness of his has seemed to rub off on her. Master Fernando likely would have laughed from his gut if he heard her give such a quip. A "firebrand", he'd call her, "the spitting image of her father, that's for sure".

Attempting to lighten her tone, despite the sudden tension she felt tighten her fingers, she continues, "if someone stays, they usually speak to the gods for guidance. The confessional booths should be bursting with requests from citizens right about now. It made me worry whether you were alright, or in need of assistance."

"Don't you worry about me! I'm just fine!" One fist beats against his chest. A "macho" gesture, she supposes, or one at least supposed to resemble an act of confidence. Was that supposed to reassure her? If anything, he seemed more a child for it. A boy pretending to be a man. "Besides, you know I'm not really into all that 'prayer' stuff. The gods haven't exactly had a conversation with me. I hear from you, and that's enough for me."

Despite his claim, the silence that followed strangles them. The tension seems all too thick to speak of anything but the imminent storm, a calm before the question:

"Say, Flora?"

She knew where this was headed. It was that same tone of voice Synelia used when she'd stared out at the stars too long, imagining her romantic getaway with a dreamy man. It was the same intonation that coated Cosmo's tone when he asked her what was wrong and she assured him everything was alright. It was the same prying hope her father had used when he asked if she would survive should something to happen, right before his death. She knew what was to come, and so stays silent.

"Your dad used to be a bigwig around here, right?"

And there it is.

Then again, it isn't exactly the way she expected it to be worded. Most others laced their questions with inauthentic care and a restrained sense of nosiness. Only Jack could make it sound so...casual. She almost laughs -- almost. "I don't think Master Kain would call him a 'bigwig'..." His phrasing might not have caused her to crack, but the mental image of her father sporting a giant wig -- and Master Kain's disbelieving sigh sure to soon follow -- certainly does. A giggle slips through the grief. "...but yes."

"Godhand Rivera, they called him. The man with the miracle hands." Her own hands, those that carried the blood of that talented man, grip the broom a bit tighter now. "Priestess Anastasia says I look just like him. Achilles, too. He swears I have that same -- how did he say it? -- light in me that my father had. They all say we are -- were -- the same."

She notices a shift in Jack then, an intensity that had not existed there before. Hunched forward in the pew now, he seems all the more intent on a conversation she assumed he had started only to fill the silence. She stiffens as his eyes bore into her, and so turns herself away from his sight lest she crumble beneath it. He seems to not-so-subtly study her every move thereafter, "hmm"-ing and "huh"-ing under his breath before drawing his conclusion:

"I dunno about that...I can't see it."

She never knew she could spin so swiftly on her heel. Words had all but failed her, lips flopping open and flapping shut just as soon. "You...what?" A surprisingly intelligent response, given her shock.

Jack had closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, now practically shoving pursed lips and narrowed eyes into her face. Spotting similarities, perhaps? Or simply invading her personal space? Then again, Jack never seemed to care for one's "bubble", nor the health of their kicked kneecaps. "Mmm, well, the hair's kinda the same, I guess. And the uniform, too. Guess that kinda goes with the territory, though."

It clicks. "You...knew my father?" Seldom few friends her age had witnessed a time when all of Radiata knew of Rivera's skill and wisdom. Yet he, an outsider, knew his face?

"Well, yeah!" Jack nods, as if she should have known. "Adele used to drag me here to pray whenever my dad had to go away on a mission for the knights. It's kinda hard to miss the guy teaching you how to pray." Before he speaks again, a somberness infects his expression, one unusual for someone so normally sanguine. "But when mom got sick, he came to the house all the time. He tried everything he knew to try and heal her. Guess he owed Dad a favor, or something. He never figured out how to help her. Dad, either, come to think of it."

Compassion clutches at Flora's heart, tearing it asunder from her self-absorbed bubble. She is not the only one here who had lost someone dear to them -- and many were the ones whom Jack had counted as lost.

"I'm...so sorry." The words seem lacking, inadequate in light of his suffering. Still, they are all she has. "I never knew yours was the family he visited out in Solieu. He was always saying what wild children Sir Cairn had. At least, one of them was, anyways." Fixing her face with a smile, she adds, "some things never change, I see."

"Hey!" He feigns offense, hands planted atop of his hips. The twitch at the tip of his lips betrays his threatening posture.

"Am I wrong?"

The challenge causes Jack's bravado to dissipate, now painfully aware of how right she is. Then again, that came as no surprise to either of them - Flora's wisdom almost always won out over Jack's impulsive insistence. He shrugs, defeated.

Flora laughs - genuinely, this time - and dares to inquire. "...do you miss him?"

Jack's eyes lighten then, startled, before fading into a dim cloud of muddied brown. No doubt he had to consider such a lofty question, even if they both already knew the answer. "Well, yeah, I guess." That's what she had assumed all this time. After all, how could someone not? "But, to be honest, I don't really think about it much."

That, more than anything else Jack had ever said, causes Flora to stop dead in her tracks.

"It's not like I don't have family. Mom took care of me until the day she died, and Adele's more than enough to make up for the both of them with how bossy she is." The wistfulness that distanced the warmth from his tone eases then, instead replaced by sincere gratitude that spread to the smile on his lips. "And besides! Now I have all sorts of friends in Radiata. I've got the Captain, and Ridley -- even if she's too stubborn to admit it. Sarge and Daniel seem cool...well, okay, that's pushing it. But I still like 'em! Clive might be useless, but he keeps me company, and, well -- I've got you, too!"

The statement overflows with such genuine joy that Flora curses the flush that rises to kiss her cheeks. How can someone say something so...so cliché and make it sound so heartfelt!? Only Jack Russell.

"Still, it doesn't mean he's still here with you now. Other people can come alongside of you, but they can't replace who was once there." Flora's hand slips into the hem of her cloak, grasping the picture that lay within; the picture that Jack, not too long ago now, hand-delivered to her. He still helped strangers, even then. Now, he helps a friend. "It's still not the same."

"Maybe you're right..." Not at all an unusual phrase exchanged between the two of them.

"...but so what?" A completely unexpected, never-before-been-said statement.

"Dad might not be with me, but I can still make him proud. You know, a legacy, and all that! If I become the strongest person in Radiata, it won't matter whether I got kicked out of those stuffy old knights or not. Everyone will know Jack Russell, son of Cairn, was worthy of wielding the Arbitrator!"

From the sheath dangling at his side, Jack flourishes a sword, one Flora could not recall ever having seen before. Where had he found such a magnificent blade? Prisms of light reflect off of every inch of the metal, cascading down from the stained glass of the temple's ceiling. Hues of amethyst and emerald mingle with the sapphire set in its hilt.

In Jack's grasp, this "Arbitrator" seems strangely at home with a new host -- if even an unseasoned one, for now. With an admittedly-clumsy flourish, Jack extends the blade out towards her. "En garde!"

He...can't be serious, can he?

No, wait. This is Jack. Of course he's serious.

When Flora's reaction amounts to stunned silence and a disbelieving stare, Jack resorts to pouting and pleading. "Aww, come on! How can I be as good a knight as Dad if I don't have a sparring partner?"

Without missing another beat, Flora twirls her broom as if it were a spear, wielding it with all the awkwardness one would expect of a pacifistic priestess.

Within moments, their sparring starts. In seconds, it stops. The broom had been discarded, Flora disarmed in mere moments. Jack slumps against the floor, laughing too hard to stand upright. Flora attempted to pout, to protest that she wasn't prepared for this, but breaks into a fit of giggles as soon as Jack insists he now understands why her father taught her to be a healer, not a fighter.

As their laughter fades, and the two find themselves alone amidst an empty -- and now messy once more -- chapel, Jack clasps his hands upon her shoulders with surprising strength. Flora finds herself too startled to resist the touch, instead staring straight into the face of the world's most overconfident, underqualified, and inexplicably but undeniably hopeful hero-in-the-making.

"We can do it, Flora. We'll be even better than our parents!" The statements escalate to exclamations, declaring their coming glory with a conviction Alvin could never imagine matching. "Just think about it! With my sword skills and your, uh, spirit fingers - we'll be unstoppable!"

She wants to deny him. She wishes she could extinguish his hope, if only to quell the inevitable crushing of her own. But something about the firmness of his grasp, the passion of his speech, and the fire burning right behind those innocent eyes makes her believe in something more. It inspires her to hope.

With all the tenderness she can muster, she lifts one of his hands off her shoulder and sets it atop of her heart, laying her own palm atop of it.

"Let's make our parents proud, Jack."

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 7)

Park Avenue 1554 Still November 17, 2038

For a moment the world seemed to have reverted to what it was supposed to be like: A crime had occurred, Daniel had called the police and they had sent a team to the apartment to investigate. As an upstanding citizen Daniel opened the door to let them in.

Only… Daniel had never been an upstanding citizen. More like a constantly on the move household appliance. And the android didn’t let the cops in from the inside, but from the outside, because he’d had to fetch them from the police station in person to do their job. One of the trio was still cursing under his breath at the indignation of having to work for an android now. But even so, from Daniel’s perspective the “new” circumstances were a return to the old, because last night’s burglary had targeted the android, not the other way around. This time Daniel wasn’t interacting with the cops as the suspect or opponent, but once again as a citizen (of however shady past) claiming his right to protection.

“Lieutenant Anderson, Detective Reed - the place is yours in a minute. Let me just feed Connor!”

The third member of the investigation team stopped looking at whatever he had been analyzing in the Phillips’s floor. “Thanks”, Connor said,” But I do not require feeding.”

The android was interrupted by Gavin, who was grinning at the sight Connor had been missing: Daniel putting some grain, slices of vegetables and a dead mealworm into a rodent cage. Inside a pet rat came clambering down from the roof of its house to inspect the dinner.

“You named the rat Connor?”

After getting forcefully dragged here to investigate on a “toaster”s behalf, the realization was exactly what the detective had needed to lift up his spirits again.

“Weeeell”, Connor started, “Rats are highly intelligent, social, affectionate…”

“Hey, you called me a rat yesterday!” Gavin cheered.

“…smelly, unpredictable, mangy creatures!” Connor finished his sentence.

Gavin stepped closer to the cage. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the PL600 he wiggled his fingers in front of the rodent – who completely ignored the human in the face of all the food.

“Aw, Connor, tiny, tiny Connor, now who’s a good filthy little rodent?”

“He sometimes makes high pitched, squeaky noises”, Daniel informed the cops, winking.

Gavin snorted and even Hank had to work hard to keep his face expressionless.

“If you didn’t know better” Daniel went on, “you’d swear he wanted to communicate with you. But it’s just thoughtless, annoying noise.”

Gavin now laughed out loud, while Hank for some reason didn’t find the comment funny anymore… Daniel felt a pang of guilt, because the lieutenant of all people hadn’t left that bad an impression on him. To the contrary, Hank had been helpful. Grumpy, yes, but also honest, not candy-coating or pretending anything. Daniel felt Gavin ‘s elbow bump against his arm. It didn’t feel like an attack, not even like a demeaning gesture, but instead… a nudge to continue the mirth? It probably had been a subconscious act on the human’s part. As of late the deviant was learning about those himself.

Daniel was still torn between laughing with the younger human and apologizing to the older, when suddenly Connor was looming behind him and Gavin.

“As if I didn’t know what you two were saying here! The next to bring up my voice gets a Cease & Desist from Cyberlife!”

By now Detective Reed seemed to have realized that he had just laughed with an android (albeit at another). It was enough to sober him up again.

The man glared at Daniel: “I can’t believe I’m bodyguarding an outdated android! Really, man, you should be at the landfill already!”

“And there’s Homo sapiens now, therefore you should be contained in a zoo, but you’re still here, so there’s that.”

A noise from terrace drew the detective outside. Turned out it had been caused by trash the wind was carrying across the open space. Half an unfold able clothesline of the kind that looked like an umbrella’s skeleton had gotten blown down here from another balcony. Now it couldn’t escape and would most likely end up tearing the swimming pool’s cover and fall in there. Gavin felt tempted to kick it in prematurely, but that would have constituted a case of tempering with crime scene, something the man’s professional pride (that was nearly equaling his natural pride that didn’t require any justification) would not allow.

Taking in the scenery Gavin realized how empty the apartment building was. Many residents had taken advantage of the evacuation; they had packed their things and left Detroit before the android situation might escalate again. Gavin Reed had grown up with the sight of abandoned neighborhoods, they had been great places for adventures as well as scavenging still valuable stuff. Gavin, Elijah and a handful of other teens had cobbled together their first car from parts found in abandoned factories long before they’d been allowed to drive. Their father had approved, because the project had kept the boys out of trouble and also because tinkering with cars was a much-needed normal pastime for Elijah, who had just returned from an expedition to the North Pole the day before. But then Elijah had filled the tank with thirium and the gang had tried to actually drive the car… Oh, well, everyone had lived. Afterwards Elijah’s mothers had forbidden the boy to ever interact with Gavin’s friends again. They had then lived through climate change resulting in the retreat from the coastal neighborhoods and more empty, once inhabited homes. But the current situation was different. Not just had the original owners given up their hard-earned property, Daniel then had moved into the abandoned flat, treating it as its home. It was an android-takeover, like an alien invasion, only for real.

Gavin returned to the apartment.

“Just the remains of a laundry spider”, he reported what he had discovered about the noise’s source. “Nice swimming pool, by the way, Daniel.”

“Uh – thanks?”

“How many apartments did you try before finding one complete with a pool and ornamental fish?”

The unveiled disdain in the human’s voice made Daniel wince.

“I just had to find the one again where I killed your friends!” he spat.

Adding one and one together, Gavin realized the truth. The deviant wasn’t squatting, but had returned to the only home he’d ever known. Like a dog or, well, a well programmed machine following its routines. That was all there was to it! It just had to be!

Knowing what he knew now, Gavin changed his approach: “Antony, huh? Never could stand him.”

In truth Gavin had never given this particular officer much thought. Antony had just been there, neither a useful ally nor a rival. But the detective didn’t want to give the android the satisfaction of having hurt, or even as much as slightly annoyed him. Why he felt like that, Gavin Reed could not explain. He KNEW that there was nothing going on inside the tin cans, right? They didn’t feel satisfaction, they were just simulating it.

A memory of having the subsequent swat team trapped crossed Daniel’s mind unbidden. He had been the one with the gun and the hostage, but they’d called him names like “piece of trash” as if they were the ones in power. And it had been the truth…

“But you certainly like Captain Allen, you’re two of a kind!” Daniel spat. “Tell you what, I had the guy almost shitting his pants in this very room!”

Gavin shrugged.

“I kinda enjoy outsmarting the ringleader and his trained gorillas. Dave’s so full of himself, he needs to get taken down a peg every once a while for his own good.”

Wait, what, Daniel thought, YOU are calling somebody else arrogant? Ey, I guess it’s true that it takes one to know one.

“Say, detective, you seem to dislike a lot of people that I despise, too…”

“That’s easy. I mean, you hate everyone!”

I don’t want to! It just happens. Sometimes I’m afraid that someday I’ll hate myself, too.

“And you are hated by everyone.”

“We’re leaving…” Hank’s voice, going unheard over Daniel and Gavin exchanging further insults.

“We’re leaving, children!” Hank repeated, louder. “Shake hands with your new friend, Gavin. You can play together again tomorrow after school.”

Two hands rose up at the same time, fingers pointing at Hank. One was Gavin’s middle finger, the other had belonged to Carlos Ortiz’s android, but was currently worn by Daniel.

“We’re NOT friends!”

“Last I checked one didn’t need to be friends for that…” Connor remarked, at which poor Hank swallowed the wrong way. His arms around the android and alternating between laughing and coughing, he left the apartment. Gavin trailed after the two, but not before casting a final, hatred-filled glance back at the PL600. Unlike Daniel, the human seemed to understand what Connor’s irritating “that” had implied.

After the trio had left, Daniel slowly sacked down with the back against the apartment door. The cops had done their work here, but the resident didn’t expect to get any of the missing electronics and clutter items back. This was Detroit, after all.

Why did I even bother fetching them? To prove a point? That I’m a… yes, what? A person? I’ll never be one in the eyes of the detective, regardless of what the law saws. And he’s far more representative for humanity than the lieutenant or the Rasoya family are. And also fuck you, Connor, for riling Reed up against me even more! Why do you always have to make everything harder for me? Next thing will be you saying something similar within the president’s earshot and it’ll be the death camps again? Not for you, of course, you’ll be save in your tower. I wish… I wish you were dead! No… No, I… don’t… I wish… I wish I were you…

(to be continued)