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#( alex's sight SUCKS but hey at least he can see in the dark and under water
endfought · 3 years
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                                  VISION
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FARSIGHTED. Alex is very farsighted and needs glasses or contact lenses to see things that are closer to him. He usually wears contact lenses while out in public and only wears his glasses when he’s at home. 
TAPETUM LUCIDUM. Alex can see in the dark and has tapetum lucidum tissue; in other words, when his eyes reflect light they appear to glow in the dark. Sharks also have this, as they are nocturnal animals and are more active at night. Their underwater vision is also 10x better than a person’s, and because of this Alex can see perfectly under water. 
COLORBLINDNESS. Our eyes have two types of photoreceptors: rods and cones. Rods are receptive to light and allow night vision while cones are receptive to colors; we have three cone photoreceptors and they respond to red, blue, and green. Sharks have only a single long-wavelength-sensitive cone type in the retina, suggesting that sharks may be cone monochromats, and therefore potentially totally color blind. Cone monochromacy is common among most marine animals like whales, dolphins, and seals. So yes, Alex is colorblind. Because he is also human, he is not completely colorblind and instead is only blind to red and green. This is the most common type of colorblindness in humans, called deuteranopia.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗹 || dark!alex kerner x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ◦ alex has been waiting so long for you to figure out he's the guy you should be with, but you just see him as your best friend. he's tired of being a virgin, and he's tired of hoping that someday you'll wake up and realise you're meant to be together— if he can't wake you up, at least he can put you to sleep.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ◦ 6.7k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ◦ smut (noncon, somnophilia, creampie), drugging, obsession, "nice guy"/incel vibes, a bit of possessiveness, very slight degradation, male virginity loss, overall just alex being super unsettling and awful lmao
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“I’m gonna run to the washroom, watch my drink?” you requested casually. Alex nodded quickly, heart starting to beat a bit faster as he watched you weave your way through the crowded bar, leaning back a bit to make sure you were out of sight for good.
He took a few glances back and forth at the people around to make sure no eyes were on him, leaning in closer to the bar to try to conceal what he was doing— reaching into his inner jacket pocket and fishing for what he’d bought just a few days ago, waiting for this moment. He was absolutely terrified that someone would catch him— that you would catch him— but he was willing to risk it in exchange for such an incredible reward.
After struggling for a second due to his hands shaking slightly, he found the plastic baggie and discreetly slipped it out, not even looking at it as he opened it close to his chest; he figured if he stared straight ahead it would be less suspicious.
He managed to get the bag open and lean forward just enough to dump the contents into your drink as it rested on the bar, looking around absent-mindedly to remain nonchalant— except that when he leaned back to see if the powder had dissolved easily, he found that he’d missed the glass entirely and dumped the light blue substance right onto the bar.
“Scheiße!” he frantically cursed under his breath as he whipped his head around to make sure no one had seen, trying to decide how to recover from this. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the glass and held it up to the edge of the bar, brushing the powder with his hand across the smooth surface and right over the slope into your drink; it hit the alcohol and started to dissolve quickly as he used his finger to push in the excess on the wooden bar before brushing the rest away with his jacket sleeve. He held the glass up to his face to look at the liquid closely, still seeing some remnants of the powder and trying to swirl the drink a bit to encourage it to fade away: if you saw something by the time you got back, he’d have to start all over again.
“When I said ‘watch my drink,’ I didn’t mean it that literally,” you giggled, and he jumped, not having realized you had returned. Considering your casual attitude and your hands eagerly reaching for the glass, you must not have seen anything leading up to this moment— and thank heavens for that.
He watched a little too intently as you took the drink from his hand and took a sip, waiting to see if you had any reaction, but you set it down without saying anything. “Thanks,” you broke the silence after swallowing, “god knows this place is probably full of creeps.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” he agreed awkwardly. There was one benefit to being so deep in the friendzone: you trusted him. Right now, that and some pharmaceutical support were all he had going for him.
He wrung his hands nervously as he hoped that the second would come through for him. The guy he bought this stuff from said it was guaranteed to work, but Alex didn’t necessarily trust the word of a drug dealer selling daterape drugs. Not that he thought the label of “daterape” was very fair— if he could get you on a date, he wouldn’t have to do stuff like this in the first place! But after years of being your best friend, your partner in crime, your confidante, and the constant shoulder to cry on while a carousel of abusive assholes treated you like shit and kicked you to the curb, you still didn’t get the fucking picture. So no, this wasn’t a date; it was just two friends getting drinks, and one friend finally getting what he deserved from the other.
He took a swig of his own drink to try to calm his nerves; nursing the neck of a bottle of beer made him realize he got lucky that you ordered something served in a glass, since getting powder down a bottle would’ve been a pain.
Quickly the conversation returned to the mundane: your latest break-up, his week at work, your favorite bands, his favorite movies. He really did enjoy being your friend, all things considered, he just needed more. And as the night continued without much sign of the pill kicking in— even as you finished your drink— he worried he wouldn't get it.
But then, finally, he noticed the subtle signs: you were blinking a bit more often, and for longer. You seemed to be breathing a bit slower, staring off into space. "Hey, you with me?" he prompted, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. "Sorry, my story was boring—"
"No, it's not that, I'm sorry," you shook your head.
"Then what's up?" he asked, adding faux concern to his tone.
“I just…" you sighed and started over again. "Let’s head out soon, I’m getting ready to turn in,” you decided.
“It’s only ten!” Alex pointed out with a laugh.
“Fuck, really? I thought it was later,” you frowned.
“Who knew you were such a lightweight?” he teased, pushing you on the shoulder and getting a playful shove back— but he could feel that you were a little weak, and he saw you almost falter in your balance. “Hey, you don’t look so good, let’s go outside for some fresh air.”
You nodded and took his hand, letting him guide you through the crowd and out the back door.
The overwhelming noise that had been present inside was muffled in the damp alleyway, just the distant roar of a thousand conversations and the heavy bass of the music left now. He watched you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. "You good?" he prompted.
"Yeah," you decided, but your voice sounded a little heavy. "Let's walk to the train station…"
He nodded and walked beside you, but you hardly made it a few steps before losing your balance. “Woah!” he laughed as you stumbled, thankfully catching you just in time, and tried not to get too caught up in how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink…”
“Alex,” you mumbled as you started to go limp, clearly fighting to keep your eyes open (and losing).
“I’m gonna take you home, okay?” he offered as you started to fade out.
He kept that promise; he just took you to his home instead of your own.
It was a bit of a struggle to drag an unconscious body back to his apartment without arousing suspicion, but thankfully it was only a couple blocks and with his your arm slung over his shoulders it was pretty easy for any passersby (of which there were very few at this hour) to assume it was just a chivalrous boyfriend helping his date after one too many drinks.
The hardest part was actually getting his keys and unlocking his door without dropping you. Once you were both inside, though, he grunted slightly as he slung you over his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed and looking down at you as he caught his breath.
He was embarrassingly eager; he was already rock hard just from seeing you like this, laying on his bed. It’s not that he got off on you being passed out, but from the feeling that he could do whatever he wanted to you— and the knowledge that he was going to.
Finally, after all this time of being just your friend, he would get what he’d been dreaming of from the beginning.
He was slow and patient, for once, as he sat down beside you on the bed, trailing his fingers over your face, brushing your hair out of the way tenderly. You looked so beautiful this way, peaceful in a way he was almost jealous of; he closed his eyes as he leaned down and kissed you softly, moving his lips even though yours were slack and still.
Past the taste of alcohol, there was something distinctly unique to you, and he took in a deep breath as he sought more of it, adjusting himself until he was on top of you... just having you beneath him was such a rush.
He licked over your lips, even nibbled on them before holding your jaw so he could open your mouth wider and taste inside of it. “Baby,” he whispered to you, heart swelling at the chance to finally call you something that friends don’t call each other— only lovers. “Baby,” he said again, mumbled into the kiss, “you’re so beautiful…”
He precariously balanced on one arm while using the other to feel all over your body through your clothes— and even under them, for a moment, as his hand awkwardly snaked up your shirt and squeezed your tits through your bra.
Suddenly he pulled back with a new desperation, sitting up and breaking the kiss as he started to undress you. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he cooed at you quietly, starting to lift your shirt to expose a bit of your hips and stomach.
It was pretty difficult to push your shirt up, since your weight was holding the back of it down, and so he had to awkwardly lift your limp upper body to finally pull the fabric aside before he laid you back down and carefully— gently, with reverence— exposed your bra which itself he pulled down with much less care.
“Oh, god,” he groaned as he got an eyeful, and then a handful, of your tits. “Fuck, wanted to touch you for so long…”
You were so warm, in fact you were hot to the touch, and he hoped his hands weren’t too cold for you… but then again, you couldn’t feel any of it, could you? Did you even care?
For cold hands or not, your nipples started to get harder and he smiled to himself. “You’re sensitive here, just like I imagined. I’m gonna suck on them,” he promised as he started to lean down, pushing them together a bit to make them easier to reach. With a hum he wrapped his lips around one bud and closed his eyes, swirling his tongue and moaning at the taste of your skin. Already his hips were rocking forward into the air just a bit, his cock throbbing and eager to be inside you. But he couldn’t stop doing this to deal with that, couldn’t stop suckling on your perfect tits, going back and forth and massaging them both as he let his tongue explore you.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against your skin, “you’ve got such perfect tits… you like being sucked here, don’t you? I bet your pussy’s getting so wet.”
As his cock flexed in his pants again, he found the strength to let go so he could move on to better things.
“Let’s find out,” he decided as he sat up and moved down your body to start opening your jeans.
If he thought your shirt was awkward to remove, your jeans were a whole other story; he had to fiddle with the button and fly for quite a while since his hands were starting to shake from the adrenaline rush of it all, and then it took several hard yanks to get the tight denim down your legs. He considered just getting them down enough to do his business and be on with it, but decided it would be better to see all of you— and so he stood up off the bed for a moment, though it felt a bit awkward physically with his cock doing its best try to bust right out of his trousers, and pulled the jeans off over your feet which he also relieved of their socks.
“Aw, you even have pretty feet,” he cooed as he cradled one in his hand briefly before climbing back up over you— after all he’d seen them before when you wore sandals and while he’d always found it a bit titillating when you wore them with your toenails painted in bright colours, they were absolutely nowhere near the main event tonight.
His hands ran over your legs, admiring the smoothness of your skin as he carefully held and lifted each one, moving them out further to spread your legs. Again, they were heavier than he expected as dead weight, and the softness of the bed meant that they sort of rolled back a bit so he had to move them more than he expected at first, but it was worth it to have you spread out beneath him like this with only your panties and rolled up shirt to cover you.
“I can just… pull these aside…” he mumbled as he hooked a finger into the fabric of your panties, revealing your cunt— and god, just the sight of it nearly pushed him over the edge right then and there. What a waste it would’ve been to come this far and just end up coming in his pants at the sight of you, so it was a good thing he held it off just barely. “Mein Gott, you have such a beautiful pussy,” he sighed. “It smells good… I wanna taste it. I’ve never tasted a pussy before…”
Carefully, he leaned in and gave an experimental lick to your folds, moaning softly at the taste. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he liked it more than he thought he would, going in again to get a more thorough taste. That said, as soon as he started to push his tongue into you, he knew he needed to feel inside you with something much more capable of appreciating every detail of you. He breathed heavily as he quickly brought his fingers up to your entrance, pushing in one but adding a second right away once he felt the warm perfection of your channel. This he’d done before— fingering, that is— and it had been rather lackluster so he hadn’t realised how much he would enjoy it when it was you; you were so much warmer, and wetter, and tighter… his fingers curled slightly to press against your walls, his attempt to feel every detail of your body, and he moaned as he sucked on your clit while he pumped his fingers.
One more flex of his cock against the confines of his trousers made one thing very clear: now, or never.
“Fuck,” he groaned beneath his breath as he sat up quickly, pulling his fingers out of you to use two hands to fumble over his belt and jeans, “need to be inside you— m’gonna fuck you baby, you want it? Yeah, you wanna be fucked, don’t you?”
You were, of course, still and silent… but your pussy was wet, you obviously wanted him.
He shouldn’t have rushed it quite so much but the moment he pulled his cock out, he found himself leaning forward and hovering over you again, swiping the head through your folds to coat himself in your wetness. As soon as he felt your entrance, he pushed all the way inside.
“Fuck!” he moaned loudly at the overwhelming feeling of you— so hot he thought he might burn up and he wouldn’t even mind it— already bucking his hips as he thrusted quickly. Lost in the feeling, he threw his head back for a moment and blindly searched with his hand until he found a breast to grab onto. “Oh my god, you feel so good, baby…”
He didn’t have much freedom to move his legs since he’d only pushed his pants down just enough to get inside you, but he found a way to make it work anyways, just from pure desperation. After a moment, he looked down at your sleeping face, tossing around slightly as his thrusts rocked your unconscious body, and you looked so angelic that he just had to lean down to kiss you again. So he did, and he did so hungrily, passionately, moans echoing into your mouth, as he already felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Taking me so good,” he praised roughly, “feels like you were made for me… you’re fucking tight, too, how am I supposed to pull out when you’re this tight? Oh fuck, I have to come inside you— I can’t pull out, you feel too good, and you’re not awake to yell at me anyways…”
Truth be told, he had no plan for when you woke up tomorrow, sore and leaking his come. He’d never thought that far ahead, not even when he was buying the sedative for your drink. All he could think about was this moment, this exact place that he knew he was meant to be: inside you.
“Gonna fill you with it,” he promised with a grunt as he kissed his way across your cheek to the crook of your neck where he buried his face as he thrusted faster. “O-oh god, I’m close, I’m so fucking close, just— just like that, baby— fuck!”
He may have caught a little glimpse of heaven as he came inside you, each pulse of his orgasm running straight down to the base of his cock and making his balls tighten so hard that it would’ve probably been painful were it not for the euphoria superseding everything. He gave you a few more weak thrusts, not pulling out very far since he couldn’t manage being anything but buried completely inside you, before the waves subsided and he collapsed on top of you.
“You’re so amazing, baby, Mein Gott,” he breathed as he kissed all over your face, “look how fast you made me come, you’re fucking perfect.”
He let himself rest for a little while, content to just stay inside you for as long as he could stand it, before sitting back up again and very carefully pulling himself out of you.
That first one only took the edge off; now that he was thinking somewhat clearly again, he could take the time to do this right— he carefully pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them aside along with your shirt and bra once he’d figured out how to get them off somehow.
He really savored you this time: kissed you all over, talked softly to you about everything he couldn’t wait to do to your pliant body, ran his hands over anywhere he could reach. He even played with your clit, watching the way it made your walls flex which pushed a bit of his come out every time. “I love the way your pussy looks, baby, it’s so fucking sexy,” he grinned. “And you know what? I think it looks even better with my come leaking out of it. You want more? I can give you more, baby, I have so much left to give— I’m gonna use you until my balls are empty and all my come is inside you. We’ve got all night, after all.”
He stripped himself as well, wanting to feel your skin against his this time, and stroked himself for a moment as he stared down at your body, laying there at his disposal. He couldn’t even count how many times he had jerked off imagining being with you, and now his dreams were coming true, if maybe not exactly the way he would’ve predicted.
On his knees between your spread legs, he lifted your hips up and propped you up just how he wanted you before pushing inside, groaning instantly not only from your warmth but also because of the way his own come eased his path and left you dripping wet. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, placing one hand beside your head so he could hover over you while the other squeezed your hips tightly.
But now that he’d already come before, he had some real stamina to work with and that gave him time to move you into a new position— just for fun, he turned you onto your stomach and fucked you from behind for a while. He was definitely a breast man all things considered, but he was absolutely not one to let a great ass go to waste; he loved watching yours ripple each time he slammed into you, pushing your back down to force it to arch a bit.
“You probably like taking it from behind, don’t you? Is this how you liked to get fucked?” he taunted with a groan. “Yeah, I think you like it— I think you’re a bit of a slut, hm?”
He took your absence of response as a yes, squeezing handfuls of your ass before spanking you a few times for good measure.
After that, he pushed your legs up to your shoulders, groaning in awe of such a lovely view of your pussy and face at the same time. This time when he pushed his cock into you, he felt himself hit the very end of your body— he moaned as he realized his cock was using all of you, really claiming you as his own. He needed to come this deep in you, he needed it like he had never needed anything before.
Soon enough it ended up with your legs draped over his shoulders and his hands roughly grabbing at your tits, and that transitioned naturally into him slipping his arms under your back and holding you tight as he fucked you fast, rough, needy— animalistic, near the end.
He let his mind run wild with some insane idea of what it might be like if you were awake: in his fantasy you were begging him for more, moaning about how he was the best you ever had, digging your nails into his back as he brought you to ecstasy with only his cock. You seemed like the type to cry with joy when you came really hard, at least that’s what he’d imagined before, and so he thought he might kiss your tears away while he spoke his little praises to you, hearing your sounds of pleasure right against his ear.
Suddenly he pressed his lips to yours again, almost wishing you could kiss him back properly but appreciating that this was the best he could do for now— and it still did plenty for him, making his cock start to flex inside you as his second orgasm drew closer.
“You’ll make me come, baby— you’re so good, I’m gonna come in you again,” he whispered against your lips. “Oh, Liebling, you’re going to be so full of my come, do you think you can take it all? Can you take everything, baby?”
It was different from the first one: in some ways more intense, kind of building on the last, and in some ways more subdued as he knew a bit more of what to expect by now. But it was no less incredible, and he moaned loudly into his unrequited kiss as he filled you once again.
Once the most intense pangs of sensation had faded, once the ringing in his ears had stopped, and once he’d (mostly) caught his breath, he sat up slowly and looked down at where your bodies were joined. It had, understandably, made a bit of a mess to come inside you twice in a row— he hopped up from the beg on slightly-wobbly legs to retrieve a damp cloth, cleaning his cock first before giving your pussy at least a cursory, exterior wipe down like any gentleman would.
He knew there was no real point in getting you fully cleaned up since he’d be back to use you again soon enough. But that was a ways out from now since he definitely needed a while to recover.
With a parting kiss to your forehead and a brief search for his boxers, Alex left the bedroom to forage the kitchen for something to restore some energy. He settled on a coffee (there was still plenty of night left that he would definitely prefer to be awake for), an apple, and some orange-chocolate biscuits, which he enjoyed while he turned on the TV and watched whatever was left before the end of broadcast.
Of course, with nothing interesting to watch, he found himself not really paying much attention as his mind wandered to other things. Most of all, for the first time he considered his plan for after the pill wore off and you had questions. The most thorough solution would be to give you a bath to get his fingerprints off of your skin and his come out of you, then to redress you in your clothes from the bar and simply say that you passed out and he gave you the bed while he slept on the couch.
Another option, though more dangerous, might be a bit more fun: he could leave at least some of his come inside you before he redressed you, just to know he’d left a bit of himself behind.
And, of course, there was always his last resort, perhaps the most obvious but highest risk solution. He could admit that something had happened, but try to convince you that it was of your doing, a drunken initiation that you simply couldn’t remember. But even then, it would all depend on what you remembered of the moments at the bar before blacking out; and considering the thorough beating your pussy had been receiving so far tonight and would continue to be receiving, the odds were probably pretty low that he could convince your hungover self in the morning that nothing had happened. Not that Alex would know, but he had a pretty good feeling that a sore vagina is not a common side effect of a hangover for women.
His cock started to stir as he imagined the absolute best case scenario when you woke up in the morning.
Alex, what happened last night? Did we have sex?
Yes, baby, and it was amazing, I just wish you could remember it.
Oh, Alex, I’ve been waiting so long for you to just man up and take me— you’re all I ever wanted.
I know, baby, but I’m sorry I had to go about it that way, giving you that pill in your drink. I just had to be sure you wouldn’t say no to me, I couldn’t take it if you did.
I’d never say no to you, Alex, and I never, ever will. I wouldn’t even know how, not after last night— I know that we’re meant to be together now. You shouldn’t apologize for drugging me either, I should be thanking you. We can finally be together, I can finally be all yours… come here and make love to me again, I promise I’m going to remember it this time— I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
And to make up for such a one-sided night of passion before, he decided that this time you’d be loud and proud, even bordering on dominant by riding him with reckless abandon— bouncing happily on his cock and bringing yourself pleasure like you’ve never known before. But, of course, you’d both be well aware who was really in charge, who you really belonged to.
Alex, I’m yours— my body is yours, my heart is yours, everything, it’s all yours… I swear, nobody’s ever made me feel like you do, you can have me whenever you want me— use me, Alex, I love you, I love you!
Fuck, he was hard again. Way harder than he had any right to be considering how he’d spent the night so far. He could even just barely see a little stain of precum on his boxers by the tip of his cock, hard to make out with only the dim, blue-ish glow of the TV to see by.
But thankfully, while you were here, no boner would go to waste— he stood up and stretched away the soreness that had settled in from sitting on the couch for a while, before walking to his bedroom and cracking the door open. You were laying there, exactly as he’d left you, and even though it was no surprise at all he still smiled to himself proudly.
“Hey baby,” he grinned as he slipped off his boxers and hopped onto the bed beside your motionless body, “you’ve been waiting for me, huh?”
He ran his fingers down your stomach, over your thighs, then came back up to start to touch your pussy. He still couldn’t believe how soft and silky it was, you were just too good to be true— and here you were, spread out on his bed for him to use as much as he liked, his best friend turned into his own personal sex doll.
The only shame was that the drug would wear off eventually, and he couldn’t just use you this way forever. It was only one night, at least until he found a way to do it again, and he needed to make the most of it.
So, not looking to waste any more time, he climbed up on top of you and rubbed his cock over your pussy— wet and spread out on display for him, though even wetter after he took a moment to pull back and spit on it— while his mouth laved at your hardening nipples. Honestly, he could probably come just from this, just from rubbing himself on you and sucking on your tits, but why do that when he could fuck you again?
He held your legs apart for himself as he pushed inside, purring as he felt your swollen channel struggle slightly to accommodate him. “Aw, it’s not too big for you, is it baby?” he taunted you with a smirk. “You can take it all, right? Yeah you can, that’s my good girl…”
He fucked you a little faster right away, focusing his hands and mouth on your breasts for a while and wondering if he might find the self-discipline to pull out and come on your tits this time. Probably not, but it was fun to imagine. He always thought your tits just deserved to be covered in his come, though, ever since you wore that one dress that showed them off just a little too much and it made him too horny to even really be jealous that you were putting yourself on display like that.
You dressed a little too provocatively, all things considered; he never got his head around on how all these controlling douchebag boyfriends of yours let you leave the house like that. If you were his girlfriend, he’d treat you loads better than any of them did, but one thing he’d be sure of is to dress you up in baggy sweatshirts as much as he could get away with. No more of those tops with the straps as thin as a noodle and the jeans so tight that every guy who walked by was obviously staring at you. A body as lovely as yours would need to stay Alex’s-eyes-only, if you two were ever going to end up together. But obviously, tonight proved that Alex was more confident than ever that that could never really happen. It was nice to play pretend for the night, though.
“You’re taking it so good, baby, look at you,” he groaned as he sat up a bit to get a glimpse of your cunt stretched wide around his cock. “Can you believe it fits? I can, I know you were made to take it— ‘cause you’re my girl, huh? All mine…”
For all intents and purposes, he was talking to himself; but as stupid as it was, it worked.
“Yeah, you’re all mine,” he continued, fucking you faster, “this pussy belongs to me, all my come inside it makes that pretty fucking clear, don’t you think? Such a beautiful little pussy and it’s all mine.”
Overcome by it all, he leaned down to rest his head beside yours while he fucked you, feeling a thin layer of sweat gather around most of his body from the exertion of fucking you as hard as he was.
“You’re never gonna let anybody else touch you,” he demanded against your shoulder, “‘cause you’re mine, baby, and nobody else is ever gonna fuck you… just me, you’re gonna be mine, Liebling.”
He heard you let out a little sigh and at first it was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced— the closest he’d ever gotten to hearing you moan for him— but then he pulled back and saw your eyes blinking open and staring straight up at him…
And suddenly it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever experienced.
A rush of adrenaline— much less enjoyable than before— shot through him and left him petrified as he stared back at you.
“...A-Alex?” you croaked out weakly. “What’s happening?”
Even in his state of terror, he was moving on pure instinct: and his instinct was to keep fucking you. He couldn’t stop, not even staring you down like this, not even moments away from facing the very terrible consequences of his very terrible actions. “You’re dreaming,” he blurted out suddenly, suppressing a moan as he felt you squirm a bit beneath him— it made you even tighter when you struggled. “This is just a dream…”
You reached up, a pathetically weak attempt to push him away, and he quickly pinned your arms down beside your head.
“You’re just dreaming, baby,” he repeated in a groan, “a really, really amazing dream.”
You whimpered a bit but didn’t say anything else, eyes falling shut again; he carefully leaned down to press his face into your neck, kissing along your pulse and up to your ear.
“You’ve dreamed about this before, haven’t you?” he whispered to you softly. “You’ve dreamed about how good it would be if you let your best friend fuck you. And it feels good, doesn’t it? I dreamed about this too. For as long as I knew you.”
When he looked up at your eyes again, they were still shut, and your breathing started to slow down again. He couldn’t say for sure that you were asleep quite in the same way you had been before, but you weren’t awake the way you’d been before, either.
The safest option, of course, would be to stop now— but he was too close to coming a third time and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop moving when the slick friction was just so fucking good.
He tried not to be too rough so he wouldn’t jostle you awake, and even just that took all that was left of his willpower; it wasn’t all too much later that he came inside you one last time, whispering to you about how this might be the last time, but that he hopes you enjoyed your strange little dream about making love with your best friend.
Truth be told, he didn’t mean to fall asleep in the manner that he did— that being on top of you— but the coffee did little to keep him up compared to the sedative of three orgasms and your perfect pussy keeping him warm all night…
By the time he woke up, though, you two had migrated apart slightly, though you were still tangled up in his arms with your head on his chest.
Smiling down at you, he let himself run his fingers lightly over your back, over your arm draped on his chest, before he felt you start to stir with the sunlight in the window shining on your face.
You hummed a little, starting to move, but he thought he might’ve caught the moment you realised you were laying next to someone— and you looked up at him with those pretty eyes all confused. “Alex?” you groaned.
“Morning,” he greeted, trying to mimic the hungover exhaustion that tinted your voice.
“Oh Christ are we—” you choked, glancing down at his bare chest. “I think we’re naked.”
“That… seems to be the case, yes,” he agreed awkwardly.
“Did we…?” you prompted, looking up at him in a way that made it painfully ambiguous what answer you might prefer.
“I don’t know, we were both pretty wasted,” he offered, banking on you not remembering him being much more composed than you when you passed out. “What do you remember last?”
“Um, the bar…” you trailed off. “And we were walking outside…”
“Yeah, that’s kind of where my memory cuts off, too,” he bluffed with a nervous chuckle.
He saw your eyes get wide for a second before they darted away, and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh… oh shit,” you choked as you sat up suddenly, trying to cover yourself as you searched near the bed for your discarded clothes.
“What? What’s going on?” he asked quickly.
“I, uh, remember one other thing,” you explained pointedly, finally finding your panties and slipping them back on under the covers.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, but you ignored him as you searched for your bra. “Hey,” he barked, grabbing your shoulder as he sat up, and finally you faced him again, “what do you remember?”
“Well,” you sighed, “I, uh… I think I can say with complete confidence that we fucked last night.”
“Wait, what? Are you sure?” he pressed, sitting up a little straighter.
“I… remember,” you explained, “just a little bit.”
He just prayed that you didn’t remember that little bit where he drugged you. “Well, what happened?”
“I don’t know, okay? I just remember you on top of me and—”
“And?”
You swallowed thickly, and he had to hide a smirk when he realized what the rest of your sentence was. And it felt good.
“I should go…” you mumbled awkwardly, and he reached out to grab your arm.
“Wait, please,” he begged, and you looked back at him with watery eyes. “Look, I’m not sure what happened last night, but maybe it wasn’t a mistake— I mean, how can we be sure if we don’t give it a shot?”
You tilted your mouth a bit as you considered it.
“I mean, they say alcohol takes away your inhibitions, not that it gives you new ideas, right?” he added. “So we both got way too drunk and… if this is where we ended up, then maybe this is what we both really wanted all along.”
He scooted a bit closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You sighed as you leaned into his chest, relaxing a bit. “I just don’t want to lose this,” you breathed. “You know: this.”
“Of course,” he agreed, “we’re always gonna be best friends, nothing can change that.”
He leaned in to kiss your temple… then your cheek… then just below your ear...
“Alex,” you breathed as he slowly laid you down and pressed you back into the mattress, but you jumped a little bit when he pressed his cock against your thigh. “Alex!”
“C’mon, baby, let’s remember together,” he encouraged with kisses all over your neck, grinning as your back arched.
“But… but we’re just friends,” you protested.
“Not anymore,” he purred. “I don’t remember much, but I remember you begging me for more. You loved my cock way too much for us to just be friends now, Liebling.”
For all the conflict on your face, your legs spreading open for him was pretty unambiguous. Your mind might have missed the memo, but your body was already used to him. With you conscious he could make you come around him, he could hear you moan his name, he could make you beg him to come inside you… the possibilities were really endless.
He should’ve known he’d never have the self-control to let it just be one night; he was a goner from the beginning, he’d do anything to have you— lie, steal, kill, spike your drink— and he wasn’t going to let you get away so easily, not when you were finally right here in his arms.
“You’re gonna be mine, baby,” he whispered in your ear as he slowly pushed his cock inside you once again, “all mine.”
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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years
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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 5 - The Stratosphere
Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, where will they go?, 2.7k
@trevor-wilson-covington​ is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
“So, I was thinking,” Luke was saying to Julie once everyone was back in the green room, chatting lightly as they packed up their gear. “Maybe I could visit your mom in the hospital and play some songs for her. Cheer her up, you know?”
Julie looked so touched. Willie still didn’t know their whole story, but they seemed like a good fit. He had offered to help Alex load up his drums, but apparently there were people paid to do that here. Alex was just supervising it because he wanted to make sure they were handled right. It was a pity this place was full of techs and ushers and security because it was so tempting for Willie to try a few tricks on his board in there.
He’d finally gotten a proper introduction to everyone, and it turned out that all of Alex’s friends were great. The guys were all super chill, and he couldn’t thank Julie and Flynn enough for letting him be there to begin with. They seemed almost like a family. If he didn’t think about it too long, then he could ignore how badly he wanted to stay around all of them for as long as he could. Willie couldn’t remember anywhere that had felt so warm and open. He ran his fingers over the new bandage that he’d gotten on his hand.
Alex sat beside him, gear all stashed away.
“So, what’s your plan?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Willie teased. “But it’s close.”
Alex looked around the room and then back at him with wonder in his eyes, raising the corners of his lips.
“Just the two of us though,” Willie added.
“Of course,” Alex nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Hey, guys,” Luke spoke to the entire room. Flynn, Reggie, and Bobby stopped the silly hand clapping game they were in the middle of and all turned their heads to face him.
“Julie and I just came up with a super cool plan,” Luke continued. Julie stood with him, and Luke immediately stood back to let her speak.
“I told you guys that my mom’s cancer is back. She’s given a lot to me, and I don’t think I could ever give back everything. But it would be really neat if we all gave her a private mini concert.”
Cheers went around the room, making Julie beam with happiness.
“I know it’s short notice,” she went on. “But I want to try to do it once we’re all back in California.”
“But what about your shows in the next couple of days?” Flynn questioned.
“I’m gonna see if I can reschedule them. I know it isn’t an ideal thing to do but with my mom’s condition, I’ve gotta do what I can.”
Willie sat quietly. He would’ve been happy to be involved, but was too aware that he was staying here in Vegas. That same feeling of wrongness crept along his skin, making him fold his arms and rub his thumb where it rested. He wasn’t sure when he’d picked up the habit, but he was doing it a lot more often recently.
“Uh…” he started. “I’m gonna catch up with you guys later, if that's okay.” He glanced over at Willie in a subtle but giddy manner.
The group finished discussing plans about getting together for a quick practice and what kind of songs they would do for Julie’s mom. When Willie suggested Yellow Submarine, Alex advocated for it as well, and he was happy to have made at least some contribution to their ideas. Once all that was put together, everyone got ready to go their separate ways. All the guys shuffled toward their van and Alex hung behind for a moment.
The guys all looked mildly surprised, but ultimately shrugged.
“Catch you later, Alex,” Luke said, giving him a wink. Reggie was singing Yellow Submarine under his breath as they drove away, to which Willie giggled quietly.
“You ready?” he turned to Alex, noticing his hands were free from clutching the strap of his fanny pack this time.
“I guess I am,” Alex said, smiling through his nerves.
Willie took his hand tightly and carried his board with the other. Alex's smile only grew wider as they hurried out to the street. The goofy jerking between their hands only made them squeeze harder to keep contact. He could hear the delighted chuckle being released behind him as he guided Alex across the city. He felt his lungs let forth a youthful yell from his throat, and he felt like Peter Pan crowing as he flew through the stars.
People darted out of their way as they rushed onward. Willie eventually saw his target, the Stratosphere, and didn't even bother pausing before he pulled Alex through the entrance. The elevator was just being emptied and before anyone could stop them, he tugged Alex inside and pressed the buttons to get them to the highest floor. The doors shut and they felt the jolt of being lifted from the ground pull them downward.
"Aren't we supposed to pay for tickets?" Alex panted, laughing between breaths.
Willie, also doubled over in laughter, just shook his head.
"Capitalism sucks, man! Don't buy into it!"
Alex only wheezed, leaning into the wall for support. Eventually, they both sat on the floor and after a few more bouts of laughter were able to calm down and breathe normally.
"When you said you had your ways I didn't know you literally meant you could just walk in anywhere," Alex thought aloud.
"The concert was luck," Willie smiled. "Here, it's just practice."
Alex shook his head incredulously. They both sighed, feeling that strange tension that had been there back in the diner, except Willie felt it in his fingertips. He eyed Alex’s hand lying inches away, and imagined himself reaching through and lacing their fingers together.
"How's that relaxing going, by the way?" he wondered.
"Hard to tell with you around," Alex stated, sarcasm not to be missed.
"I'll take the compliment."
Their long ride inside the elevator was near the end, and they stood up as the numbers got closer. Willie felt Alex's pinkie reach for his and he was happily surprised at the feeling of skin twining with skin. It was like they didn’t have to say anything - they just felt the same things. The door opened to the fresh evening breeze and revealed the wonderful sight before them.
"Whoa," Alex breathed, immediately drawn to the view on the observation deck. The lights from below sparkled in his eyes and Willie followed as they came right up to the railing. Both of them sat in awed silence, watching everything blink and glitter beneath them. The mountains in the distance bordered everything in a gentle, majestic manner. Willie had been up here so many times and somehow never noticed the odd sense of being folded in angels' wings before.
“I’ve been an idiot,” Alex started saying. Willie turned his head in confusion. Their hands slipped apart as Alex began gesturing to emphasize his words. “I’ve been thinking all day about how everything goes wrong and expecting everything to go wrong. I haven’t been enjoying anything nearly as much as I should be right now.”
Willie didn’t reply just yet. He just looked at Alex, watching how tense he was still, almost as if he could see the lion in the cage inside his head. All he wanted was to set it free. He looked around, and while there were a couple people on the other side of the observation deck, they seemed likely to just take pictures and then head back down.
“You know what I love about being up here besides the view?” he asked Alex.
“What?”
Willie gripped the railing as hard as he could, took in a deep breath, and screamed out into the darkness. Alex looked around nervously, but only watched the other people on the deck make their way back to the elevator.
“You gotta try it,” Willie urged.
Alex braced himself against the barrier and gave a nice little yelp.
“Oh, are you a puppy up for adoption?” Willie joked, tugging on Alex’s jacket. “Your whole body needs to let go.”
Alex looked back at him with an intense focus, and then turned back to the railing. Filling his lungs to the brim, he yelled viciously over the top of it. Willie joined him and they both staggered between screaming and taking moments to breathe. Something about it said words beyond what they had spoken. Willie heard a unique sort of agony as Alex belted everything to the night. He wondered if his pain came through as well.
Alex finally sighed as he finished his last shout and then looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.
“I did enjoy that,” he said. “Thank you.” He dropped his posture and Willie smiled at seeing him finally loosen up.
“Didn’t know you had so much pent up rage,” he commented.
“I guess I didn’t either,” Alex said, chuckling darkly. He sat on the ground and looked up at Willie to follow suit. Taking a seat across from him, Willie eyed him curiously.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Staring contest,” Alex said plainly.
Unfortunately, Willie blinked immediately. Probably ten times in succession, actually. This time, Alex got to laugh.
“Okay, not an actual staring contest,” he said. “ But I’ve tried this with all the guys in the band. We look into each other’s eyes for a few minutes, no speaking, and we just....know each other better. Bobby’s the one who started it.”
Willie only nodded as they got into comfortable positions before locking eyes. He tried to silence any impulses for his mind to focus on anything else and channeled everything into looking at Alex. Even in the dim light, he picked up the green color staring back at him. The stillness outside rivaled the storm within them.
Slowly, the storm softened into waves of caring kindness. They were powerful, but low, as if Willie were wading in shallow water and letting them crash over him. Each wake broke upon him in just the way he wanted to collide with them. This wasn’t a tide where he would get lost in the danger of the deep. The current was pushing him back to the shore, toward safe ground. 
The image in his mind suddenly morphed, and he was transported from calming waves to a rickety road. Fields passed by as he found himself looking out a window. His vision steered to his left, and an older man with a jovial smile sat at the wheel, turning to him as if they’d been passing jokes between them. The man’s familiar laugh echoed in his head.
 Absent-mindedly, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand. Pulled out of his trance, Alex looked at him with concern.
“I just remembered something,” Willie said, sounding like he’d received divine communication. It almost felt like he had. That image was supposed to be locked away, he’d been told. Never to be known again.
“What, like you left the stove on or something?” Alex asked in confusion.
Willie shook his head seriously. His hand was still squeezing Alex’s but he couldn’t get it to loosen its grip. It wasn’t because the memory had scared him, but fear was present anyway.
“No.” His eyes had trouble focusing on Alex’s face, now. “I think I remembered my dad. Like we were driving together. I remembered him.”
Alex dipped his head lower as he tried to figure out what Willie meant.
Willie bit his lip and looked at him apprehensively. This wasn’t the intended topic of discussion tonight. It wasn’t a subject he was usually allowed to speak of to begin with. He opened his mouth and clamped it shut, and then opened it again.
“I have retrograde amnesia,” he confessed.
Alex’s jaw slacked and hung open for a minute. Willie wasn’t sure how long he could handle this gorgeous boy blinking at him in disbelief before Alex closed it again.
“Oh my god, Willie,” he started, still sounding unsure but remaining gentle.
“I’m sorry, that’s sort of a really big thing to just drop on somebody,” Willie started.
“No, no, you don’t need to be sorry,” Alex soothed. “But, oh my god, you just remembered something.”
Willie ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.
“Yeah… I did,” he said, just realizing the significance of that himself. His past wasn’t entirely under lock and key. That...brought a lot of emotions with it.
“Wait, so how long have you been like this?” Alex asked.
“About a year and a half,” Willie told him solemnly. “Caleb told me I was hit by a car when I was out skating. I even have a scar.” He lifted his hair and turned his head so Alex could get a look. Alex grimaced and shook his head, clearly not liking the visual he’d received in his mind.
“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” he said.
“Yeah, Caleb said that too.”
“Wait, who’s Caleb?” Alex blurted.
“Oh,” Willie looked downcast. “He’s my legal guardian. And my boss. You saw him this morning, remember?”
“That’s your legal guardian?” Alex said, sounding slightly upset. “Guy gave me the creeps.”
“That’s fair,” Alex said, sounding a little unconvinced of his own statement. He sat quietly for a minute. Willie studied him, worried about how he would respond next. Any fun had been sucked out of the air due to his own personal business.
“Yeah, well,” Willie shrugged. “He does that. But, what can I do, you know?”
“So, for the past year and a half,” Alex started. “You’ve had nobody except your boss?”
Wow, that hit him right in between the eyes. Willie hadn’t actually considered that before. He blinked momentarily and then looked directly into Alex’s eyes as pain slowly took over. Then hot tears welled up, causing him to look away.
“I guess not,” he said quietly, his voice already trembling. Before he could huddle into a little ball, Alex’s arms were around him, pressing his head to his chest. Heaving a sigh, he let the tears fall as quietly as he dared to be. His hand crept up to hold onto Alex’s shoulder and gripped tightly. A funny weight was felt on the top of his head, and he realized Alex was running his fingers through his hair. It was so soothing, so...sweet. Willie didn’t realize that was something he missed from his many forgotten memories.
Soon, he straightened up and wiped his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said to Alex, knowing he couldn’t possibly convey how grateful he truly was.
“Of course,” Alex assured him, still gazing upon him tenderly.
“I guess I killed the mood, huh?” Willie attempted to joke. Alex simply smirked and shook his head.
“For what it’s worth, I was totally lost in your eyes, so I needed to come back to reality.”
Willie couldn’t help but smile, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
“That was for free,” he said, already getting back into step with his sense of humor. “I charge everyone else.”
Alex quietly entered the hotel and slipped into the door of their room. The guys had thankfully left it ajar so he wouldn’t be locked out. Luke was already lightly snoring on the couch, and he saw that Reggie and Bobby had both taken the larger bed. Carefully pulling his fanny pack over his head and setting it on the side table, he kicked off his shoes.
“Hey, Alex,” he heard Reggie whispering. Dammit. “How’d it go?”
The entire night replayed on fast forward in his mind, and he couldn’t get over the beauty of it all. The weight of it all.
“It was good, Reg,” he whispered back. He quickly changed and climbed into the bed that came down from the wall. Too many thoughts and feelings swirled in his mind like a cajun soup. Willie was amazing. There was nothing else to it except smaller details that attested to the same fact. Today had been all he would have of him, though. His mind paused on that thought as silence filled his ears.
“Did you kiss him?” Reggie whispered out of the blue in curiosity.
“Hey, bigger spoon,” Bobby mumbled groggily. “Be quiet.”
Alex didn’t answer, but smiled quietly to himself. He should have kissed him.
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superpaperclip · 4 years
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I Don’t Wanna Wait In Vain
My first Red White and Royal Blue fic!! Thank you to the discord who inspired me and encouraged me! Read on AO3 here.
When Alex arrived home a few hours earlier than scheduled, the last thing he expected to see was his roommate making out with some boy on their couch. Henry’s hands were tangled in his dark hair, one leg thrown over his hips. As soon as Henry caught sight of Alex in the doorway, he sprang back from the guy, pushing him away. 
“Alex! I- I didn’t expect you home so soon! I- um- this is, uh, Aiden. Aiden, this is my roommate Alex.” Henry’s eyes darted between Alex and Aiden as Alex felt his face heat up. 
“I’m just gonna… go to my room.” muttered Alex, and hurried past the couch. Shutting the door a little too hard, he sank to the ground and let his head fall back with a thump. Why was his heart racing? Why was there a lump in his throat and a knot in his stomach? He knew Henry was gay, and he didn’t have a problem with it. At least, he didn’t think he did. He certainly didn’t have a problem with Liam or his boyfriend Spencer. He didn’t have a problem with the LGBT people in his classes. So why did he have a problem with Henry?
He heard voices rising in volume on the other side of the door, one that he recognized as Henry’s, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Eventually, he heard the front door slam and Henry groan. There was a knock on Alex’s door. 
“Hey, uhm, Aiden is gone if you wanna… y’know… come out.” Alex nodded, before realizing Henry couldn’t see him. Why did he feel like his chest was lighter and a weight was lifted off his shoulders? He had too many questions and not enough answers, so he decided to do what he always did when he needed a distraction- throw himself into his work. Opening his laptop and spreading out his books and papers, he started on an essay. 
He was startled out of his concentration by another knock on his door and Henry informing him that it was dinnertime. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was almost 6:30. Alex finished the paragraph he was typing and closed his laptop. Leaving his room, he joined Henry on their couch, tucking one foot under his other leg. The TV was quietly playing in the background, some cooking show that Alex didn’t care for. His mind was cloudy and unfocused, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Henry kissing some guy on their couch. 
“So. Who was that?” Alex asks. 
“Aiden? He’s… no one.”
“No one? Is that why you were sucking face with him on our couch?” Alex’s voice had a bit more vitriol than he intended. Still, he didn’t back down, even when he saw Henry cringe. 
“Erm… yes. He was… no one. Really, Alex, just let it go.” For some reason, that just made Alex angrier. 
“Let it go? I’d rather not come home and see that. Can you at least do it in your room?”
“That's what we were planning to do. Sorry for not being able to predict that you would get home early!” That just clouded Alex’s thoughts more. In the back of his mind, he registered sharp points of pain in his shin. Looking down, he saw he had been digging his nails into his leg, most likely leaving crescent-shaped marks. 
They sat in silence for a few minutes until the doorbell rang, and Alex went to get the pizza. When he returned, Henry had put on A New Hope. Alex forced himself to focus on the movie and not the thick tension between them as they ate their dinner. They were both uncharacteristically quiet, offering no comments or quips. 
***
The silence and tension continued for a week, Henry bringing home various men and Alex trying in vain to ignore it. Eventually, Alex had enough. He knew he couldn’t fix this himself. He needed help. After laying in his bed for hours and thinking of how badly he fucked things up with Henry, he rolled over and grabbed his phone, texting Nora before he could talk himself out of it. 
>Skype lunch this weekend? I need to talk to you.
>Only if you’re buying.
Can June come?
>Sure.
***
That Sunday, Alex eats lunch in his room instead of on the couch like usual. After taking a bite of his burger, he plugs in his headphones and opens skype on his laptop, calling Nora. After two rings she picks up. Straight to the point, Nora asks what’s bothering him. Sighing, Alex explains his problem.
“So Henry and I have been roommates for years, right, and I’ve know he’s gay the whole time. But last week, I got home early and he was making out with some guy on the couch. And then I realized that he’s never actually told me about any of his crushes or boyfriends, so I told him he’s welcome to talk about that stuff with me, and he said he didn’t have a love life and that the guys he’s brought over don’t actually mean anything.  I don’t know what’s happening.” 
Nora and June laugh so hard Alex has to rip his headphones off. Faintly, he can make out the words ‘Alex’ and ‘idiot’, and then more laughter. It takes several minutes for both of them to calm down, during which Alex huffs at them to stop multiple times. It only makes them laugh harder. Eventually, Nora is the first to speak.
“Alright, let’s go back to the guy on the couch. What happened there? Like, walk us through what happened when you walked in.” Alex frowns, but explains the events from when he walked into the apartment that day. That just prompted another bout of laughter from June and Nora. After sharing a look with Nora, June was the first to talk.
“Alex, what you’re describing- the lump in your throat, your stomach churning, your heart racing- are jealousy. You’re fucking jealous!” Nora and June smirked at each other, then looked expectantly at Alex.
“What do I have to be jealous of? I don’t want to kiss Aiden. I don’t even know him.” At that, the women groaned in unison. 
“You’re jealous of Aiden, not Henry. Come on, you’ve wanted to kiss him practically since you saw him. And he wants to kiss you too.” Nora states matter-of-factly.
“Hold on. Back up. I don’t like Henry, and he doesn’t like me, at least not like that. We’re just friends. And I’m straight.” But Alex’s voice wavered, his mind already running through his and Henry’s relationship. The day they met and how Alex’s first thought was that his new roommate was very handsome, the light feeling in his chest when Henry laughs at a joke he told, and the fire in his gut when he saw Henry kissing Aiden. Then his mind wandered to his high school years- trying not to look at other guys in the locker room, thinking about large hands and wide shoulders when he was in the shower, and whatever went on between him and Liam. At the thought of Liam, Alex quickly ended the call and shut his laptop. He had a lot to think about.
***
Alex didn't pay attention to anything that afternoon, nor did he get any sleep that night. He had been too wired to fall asleep, wandering through his memories and picking out the moments that, in retrospect, he should’ve recognized as not being very straight. By the time the thin rays of dawn were filtering through his curtains, he had come up with a list.
One. He’s not as straight as he thought he was.
Two. He’s attracted to Henry, and probably has been since they moved in together.
Three. He really wants to kiss Henry.
Four. He can’t stand seeing Henry kiss other people. 
Five. According to Nora, Henry also likes him. 
Now he just has to figure out what to do with that information. He went through his day on autopilot, not retaining any information from his classes. His professors droned on about laws and their applications, but Alex’s mind was on Henry. Henry’s soft blond hair, Henry’s bright blue eyes, the way Henry gets excited when he talks about literature or LGBT history. His strong hands, his laugh, the way he comes out of his shell when they’re together. 
When he pushed the door of the apartment open that afternoon, Henry was once again on their couch, this time curled up with a book against the armrest. Something by Jane Austen, Alex guesses. Steeling his nerves, he sits on the other side of the couch and clears his throat. Wordlessly, Henry looks up from his book and raises an eyebrow. 
“I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole lately.” Alex apologizes, hoping he looks as guilty as he feels. Thankfully, Henry closes the book and puts it down. 
“Frankly, yeah, you have.” 
“Yeah, um, I was because I was… jealous.” Multiple emotions flashed across Henry’s face, including something Alex couldn’t identify, before he schooled his features again. 
“What do you have to be jealous of? You could get girls if you wanted. You tell me about all the girls who hit on you. I’m sure any one of them would be happy to sleep with you.”
“No, I’m…” Alex sighed, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to. “I'm not jealous of you for how much you, ahem, get. I’m jealous… of Aiden. And… everyone else you bring home.” He could see Henry trying to wrap his mind around Alex’s confession. 
“I, um, talked to Nora and June about me being an asshole, and they helped me realize that it was… jealousy. I thought about it, and I’m not as straight as I thought.” Henry’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“So… what are you trying to tell me?” Alex groaned and put his head in his hands. This was harder than he thought it would be. Then again, he had never confessed his love to his roommate after realizing he’s not straight. 
“I’m bisexual and I like you. As more than a friend.” Alex said in one breath. As soon as he said the last word, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Slowly, he looked up and saw Henry was staring at him, his eyes wide.
“You’re- I- What? Wait, really? I- I didn’t-”
“So, um, I get it if you’re not into me like that, but I just needed to get it off my chest.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck, self conscious of Henry’s eyes on him.
“Are you really that thick? I’ve been flirting with you since we met. I just had no hope because, y’know, you’re straight. Or at least, I thought you were.” A blush spread across Henry’s face, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 
“So, what was Aiden?”
“A pathetic attempt to get over you. Really, he was no one.” Alex let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They sat in silence, Henry shifting in his seat and Alex running his finger along the key around his neck. Alex was the first to speak.
“So what are we now? I mean, I’d like to, y’know, be with you…”
“I want that too!” Henry quickly interjected. Alex’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of dating Henry, of kissing him, of doing other things with him.
“So, I guess we can just, like, see where this goes?”
“Yeah, I think that would be best.” As soon as the words left Henry’s mouth, Alex realized how close they were. They had slowly been moving towards each other, and now they were almost touching. If he just leaned forward a bit, Alex realized with a start, he could press their lips together. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asked breathlessly. Henry nodded. Their lips met, and it was perfect.
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whatdidimissjm · 4 years
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Jamilton Month Day 15 - Historical
When Thomas wakes up, he is alone in bed, like every morning. It shouldn´t surprise him. Alex never stays the night. They both know that it´s far too dangerous for them to be caught like this, but every time he falls asleep in Alexander´s arms, a tiny part of him hopes that he will still be there when he wakes up again.
Thomas thinks about just staying in bed, but after a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, and overthinking their relationship, he gets up. The thing is, whatever they are doing, it´s not a relationship, they have made that clear from the beginning. It´s just physical. It´s just sex. After over a year of Alexander spending more nights at Thomas´ house than at his own though, Thomas can´t ignore the feelings he has started to develop for his colleague anymore. He lets out a sigh, a familiar sadness taking hold of him once again.
He puts on his jacket and steps outside, wrapping the scarf tighter around his neck as he makes his way to work, hoping that walking there instead of taking a carriage will clear his head and heart of those unwanted emotions.
When he reaches his workplace half an hour later, his heart still feels heavy in his chest, but during the walk, a welcoming numbness has settles over him, which is only partly due to the cold outside. Thomas makes his way to his office, letting out another sigh when he sees how many letters have arrived for him to look over since he went home yesterday. He takes off his jacket and sits down, reaching for the first one. He spends the next few hours writing pointless responses, his thought preoccupied with a certain colleague of his. He had hoped that the work would help him shake off the numb heavy feeling in his heart, but he still feels far from himself.
It´s already noon, when a knock on Thomas´ office door disrupts his work, and he looks up as Alex comes in with a bright smile on his face, before locking the door. He forces himself to smile back, even has he feels something like dread growing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of his lover.
“Do you have a lot to do?”, Alex asks innocently, as he walks around the table.
He presses a kiss to the side of Thomas´ head, who closes his eyes at the touch, doing his best to ignore the longing for more. Alexander walks past him to the window, looking out at the street.
“I do.”, Thomas answers Alexander´s earlier question, even if it´s not true. The other man turns around, raising his eyebrows at him. “I do have a lot to do.”, Thomas clarifies and Alex nods.
“Alright, I´ll see you tonight, then?”, it´s phrased like a question, but they both know that it isn´t.
Thomas nods, not sure if he´d even be able to talk. Alex gives him another smile, one Thomas has never seen directed at anyone else than himself, and walks back over to Thomas. He cups his face, tilting it up so that he can kiss him more easily, connecting their lips. Thomas still feels his heart racing at it, and he tries to get lost in the kiss, like he always does, but his mind is still too loud and he doesn´t quite manage to do so. As soon as Alex pulls back, he misses the contact, but at the same time, he is glad that the other man isn´t touching him anymore.
“Until tonight then.”, Alexander says, taking another step back and towards the door.
All Thomas wants to do is call him back and either tell him to never talk to him again or scream at him that he loves him, and he doesn´t know which option would hurt more. In reality, he does neither of those things and just watches him go, his heart heavy and aching in his chest. Once the door closes behind Alex again, Thomas buries his face in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
He knows that he should break this off, it´s torture, but at the same time, he can´t bring himself to actually tell Alexander to never come back, because that would be a different kind of torture. One, that would probably be far worse. Like this, Thomas can at least pretend sometimes that Alex actually cares about him. Thomas lets out another sigh, opening his eyes again, and does his best to concentrate on his work again.
The hours tick by both incredibly slow and at the same time at the speed of light, even though Thomas doesn´t know how that is even possible. When it´s getting dark outside, he starts gathering his papers, trying to be as slow as possible, before he makes his way downstairs and home.
Alex is supposed to join him in the next hour, so Thomas thinks about eating something, disregards the thought almost immediately though. He isn´t exactly nervous, but doesn´t think he could keep food down at the moment, so he decides to change into his evening gown and continue the book he is currently reading. His mind keeps traveling though and he finds it hard to concentrate, so when Alex comes into the bedroom, he has only managed to read three pages.
Thomas´ heart skips a beat when he sees Alex, but can´t help smiling back at him. His lover walks over to him and gently takes the book out of his hands, placing a kiss to his head, before setting the book down on the bedside table.
“How has your day been?”, Alex asks, and takes his hands, pulling him to the bed.
“Do you actually want to know or-?”, Thomas starts, but gets interrupted by a gasp, when Alex slips his hands underneath his shirt. They are still cold from outside and it causes shivers to run down his spine.
“Of course, I want to know.”, Alexander answers with a small laugh. “Why shouldn´t I?”
Thomas shrugs.
“It was… fine.”, he lies. “But I prefer this.”
He lets out a small moan as Alex sucks on the skin underneath his ear and tries to push him away, but Alex just wraps his arms tighter around Thomas´ waist.
“Hey, no marks, remember?”, Thomas breathes, but he actually couldn´t care less.
Alex just laughs again, playfully biting his neck one more time, before he moves to unbutton his shirt. As Alexander starts kissing down his chest, Thomas notices that he hasn´t even kissed him as a welcome, and it really shouldn´t hurt so much, but it does. He presses his eyes closed, when he feels Alex reaching his breeches, his hand falling onto Alexander´s head almost on its own accord. His heart feels heavy with longing for Alex to actually return his love, but this is all he will get and he tries to do his best to enjoy it, for as long as the other man will let him.
He feels Alexander kissing down his thigh and shudders, all thoughts leaving his head for the moment.
“You are always so responsive for me.”, he chuckles, and Thomas is about to protest, when Alex gives him a shove.
He loses his balance and falls back against the bed, letting out an involuntary yelp. Almost instantly, Alex is above him, pressing him down into the mattress, finally kissing him for real. Thomas practically melts in Alexander´s arms, almost feeling lightheaded as his lover slips his tongue into his mouth. When Alex pulls back again, it takes Thomas a moment to open his eyes, glancing up at his lover´s smug smile.
“You like that?”, he asks, as if he doesn´t know from past experiences that Thomas does indeed like that very much.
Instead of an answer, he just lets out a whine, which causes Alex to chuckle, but luckily, he leans down again to kiss him. He almost doesn´t notice Alexander´s hand traveling down his body, but doesn´t really pay any mind to it nonetheless, until he feels one of his fingers ghosting over his hole.
“Relax.”, Alex whispers, before kissing him again, and Thomas is almost embarrassed that he has to be told that over and over again.
He does his best to do as he´s told, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noises.
“You know I want to hear you.”, Alex whispers, spreading his fingers just as Thomas is about to respond, which causes him to let out a moan.
“Just like that, darling.”, Alex praises, repeating the motion again.
Soon Alex is removing his fingers again, replacing them with his cock. He presses his eyes close, as he feels Alex pushing in, trying to just enjoy the moment. He just can´t think about how he is nothing more than a nice little distraction for Alex.
As soon as Alex hits that one spot inside him though, it´s easy to just let his mind float, not thinking about anything except how good he feels and how pretty Alex sounds and looks. Once they have both came, his breathing gets slowly back to normal and reality start to sink in again. Alex is already out of bed to get a washcloth, even though Thomas would have preferred for him to stay a little longer next to him. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, only opening them, when he hears Alex coming back.
He is wearing one of Thomas´ shirt, which seems far too domestic and feels a bit like a slap in the face of what he can never have. He knows that it´s unrealistic, but sometimes he wishes that they could just be each other, without having to fear for their lives. Alex gives him a small smile, oblivious to what is happening inside Thomas´ mind.
Alex walks over to the bed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, before he starts wiping away the sweat and cum from Thomas´ skin. He closes his eyes and just enjoys being cared for, letting out a short whine, when Alexander´s hand leave him.
“Should I stay a bit?”, Alex asks, and Thomas nods, shifting a bit to get under the blanket.
He knows that this will only make everything harder, but he is too selfish to care about that. He lets out a sigh when Alex wraps his arms around him, cuddling against him. They are silent for some time, just enjoying the closeness of each other. Usually it´s Alex who breaks the silence, but this night, it´s Thomas who speaks first.
“Alexander?”, he asks tentatively, turning around in his arms so that he is looking at him.
“Hmm?”, the younger man gives back.
He lifts his hand and rakes it through Thomas´ hair, before pulling him close to press a kiss to his lips.
“What is it, sweetheart?”, Alex asks, frowning at him. “You look kind of sad, did I do something wrong?”
Thomas quickly shakes his head. Alex didn´t do something wrong. He just did what they agreed on. Thomas lets out a sigh. He really doesn´t know where to start.
“Are there other people beside me? Do you seek pleasure elsewhere when I don´t have time?”
The question comes out far more insecure then he intended, and he fears that he has given away too much, but when Alex cuddles closer and presses another kiss to his neck, he relaxes a little.
“Once.”
Thomas tenses at that, but Alexander´s soothing hands drawing circles on his back help him relax again.
“A few days after the first time, when I didn´t think you wanted to do this again. But after you came back, never.”
When Alex leans back a bit, Thomas thinks for a moment that he is going to get up, but instead he locks eyes with him, and Thomas´ breath catches in his throat at how unguarded and honest he shows how he feels.
Thomas presses their foreheads together, breathing in Alexander´s smell.
“Since that first time, I´ve only wanted you.”, Thomas whispers.
He feels Alexander´s lips brush against his.
“You have me.”
And somehow, those three words mean a lot more than a simple “I love you” ever could.
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Like Father Like Son
This is really just a small, crappy drabble but I saw a lot of Alex Karev fathers day edits today for Alex and the twins and it hurts my heart because Alex deserves to be a father so much but we were robbed of Jolex babies and nothing will ever make it okay.
Jo tried to tiptoe around the room, silently praying Robin wasn't about to erupt into his usual early morning tears as she tried to wrestle him into his new baby grow. It was much harder in the dark but she didn't want to turn on the light in case it woke Alex or made Robin fuss a little more.
"Shhh...little man. Daddy's still sleeping." She whispered quietly as she quickly turned to check that Alex was still soundly asleep in the bed. Robin began gurgling, kicking his legs out in order to get his mother's attention. Two months old and a complete mother's boy. Smiling down at her son Jo finished dressing him tickling his tummy lightly as he blew spit bubbles at her.
"Hey, baby boy shall we go make Daddy some breakfast? Shall we?" Lifting him up she continued to babble away in that stupid baby voice she hated on other mother's. "Yeah, let's go do that."
"Do you know what today is?" Jo mumbles to her baby boy as she bounces down the stairs heading towards the kitchen. "Today my little man is Daddy's first Father's Day. Yes it is and I don't know much about dads but I'm pretty sure you've got the best one."
Robin made tiny gurgling noises while Jo continued to talk to him as if he understood, fussing as he left Jo's arms as she placed him in the new bouncer set up in the kitchen. "I'm sorry little man but Momma's no good in the kitchen with two hands never mind just one." Jo grinned, pulling out her phone to google how to make waffles and wondering how Alex had always made it look so damn easy.
Why didn't I buy ready-made waffles? She wonders ten minutes later running her hand under the tap after burning herself on the waffle iron. "Aw shit." Jo hissed as she knocked over the freshly poured orange juice, turning off the tap still sucking lightly on her burnt finger. Robin's screams filled the air as the glass shattered across the floor. "Oh no baby boy, I'm so sorry." Jo cried slowly manoeuvring her way over the broken glass, unclipping Robin from the bouncer. "I'm so sorry." She whispers, lifting him up peppering kisses over the screaming infant's face, bouncing him until his crying slowly ceased. "Momma is so sorry she scared you, hmmm she was just trying to make daddy's breakfast."
Sighing in defeat Jo looked around the kitchen at all the mess she'd made, the waffle batter that was spread across the kitchen counters, the spilt juice and the broken glass. "Yeah, cooking is not mommas best skill."
"Mhmm, you can say that again." Turning Jo found Alex leaning against the door frame, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he took in the sight in front of him. It annoyed Jo that he seemed to get better looking as time went on, he was standing there in boxers, his hair sticking up in every direction with pillow marks still pressed on his face. It's a wonder they only have one child.
Alex Karev had awoken to find himself alone in a cold bed, reaching out to the empty space where his wife usually lay; he frowned as his eyes adjusted in the dark, turning towards the bedside table Alex flipped on the light, his eyes wincing at the sudden brightness as he scanned the room. Not only was Jo's space vacant but the clip-on crib that was connected to her side of the bed was empty, he'd expect to find her in the rocking chair in the corner or that ensuite but there was no sight of his wife or son.
It wasn't until the faint smell of burning filled the air that he began to panic, jumping up trying to untangle himself from the sheets as he frantically went in search of his family. He almost tripped down the stairs but the panic soon ceased as he reached the bottom step, hearing Jo's voice filter through the air, the sickly baby voice that she'd seemed to have adopted the minute Robin was born and that Alex teased her mercilessly about. "Momma is so sorry she scared you, hmmm she was just trying to make daddy's breakfast."
Ahh so that's where his family had snuck off too, slowly padding down the hallway Alex couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face, Jo was facing away from him, holding Robin against her chest as she swayed slightly cradling his head. The last two months had felt like a lifetime, they were both more sleep-deprived then they had been during their internships. Alex actually thought being an intern might have been easier, it was a lot easier to do a full shift on no sleep during his intern year then it was these days at least now he had interns, residents and a full paediatrics department at his disposal.
Leaning against the doorframe Alex decided to take a few moments to appreciate the sight in front of him before the sun rose fully and the day began. You know how they say blink and you’ll miss it? well Alex finally knows that they mean, every day Robin grows and changes so quickly Alex spends most of his days terrified that he will miss something important.
Still unnoticed by Jo who's swaying Robin softly still chattering away, Alex takes the time to take in his wife's appearance. She looks tired, which is to be expected as a new mother, her hair hadn't been washed in a week and her natural dark curls are overflowing from the bun on top of her head. She was wearing one of Alex's old wrestling sweatshirts and some worn plaid shorts, she hadn't worn anything but comfy clothes since Robin was born, she'd even joked that it was all she could fit into now. Not that Alex cared, her body had changed of course it had; she'd housed their baby and let me tell you a Karev baby boy wasn't the most delicate baby but Alex thought any marks their baby left on her body made her all the more sexier. He'd taken great delight in changing her phone contact to MILF, he thought it was funny up until one of the scrub nurses had loudly called out that MILF was calling during one of his surgeries last week.
"Mhmm, you can say that again."
Jo looked up startled as she turned towards him in surprise, a frown instantly falling across her face. "No...no no you're meant to be asleep." She cried. Shaking his head at her disappointment Alex pushed off the wall heading towards her.
"Stop" Jo cried suddenly, holding one arm out, making Alex freeze on the spot. "There's glass." She looked down sheepishly as she gestured to the broken glass on the floor.
Rolling his eyes Alex turned back towards the door grabbing the broom as he began to sweep a pathway. "What the hell is this early morning mess in aid of?"
Sighing Jo took a seat at the dining table, cradling Robin in her arms, she looked apologetic as she watched Alex clean away her mess. "It was meant to be a Father's Day breakfast." She mumbled quietly.
"Oh," Alex nodded, sweeping the glass into the bin along with the burnt waffles. "That's what this is?" He asked, prying another burnt waffle from the pan, staring at the charcoal brick wondering how it had got this bad while trying to hide his laughter and spare her feelings.
"Shut up," Jo growled, as Alex continued to laugh at her failed breakfast attempt. "It was gonna be a surprise."
"A good one?" He felt one of Robin's bibs hit him in the back trying to fight the smirk from his face. His first Father's Day, he couldn't believe it, the truth is he didn't need a perfect breakfast or an expensive gift being a father was more than enough. Alex Karev had grown up being told he wasn't good enough for anyone, that he wasn't the type of man that got the happy family with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids, and while he doesn't have a white picket fence or 2.5 kids (yet) he does a have a very happy sleep-deprived family.
"I wanted you to have the perfect Father's Day."
"By giving me food poisoning?" He grinned turning towards them both.
"Piss off," Jo growls again as Alex lifts Robin out of her arms.
Robin kicked his legs out happily, slapping his hands against Alex's face, excited to see his father. "You know his first word is gonna be cuss word if you keep that up."
"No, it won't." Jo grins, rising up to stand behind Alex, peering over his shoulder to watch Robin curl up against Alex chest "His first word is gonna be Da-da." She grinned leaning against Alex's back, nodding at Robin over his shoulder. "Da da"
"Jo he's two months old it's not physically possible for him to talk yet."
"Yes but he's very advanced." Jo chimed in with her baby voice, never taking her eyes off Robin. "Aren't you Robin...Say da-da."
Alex grinned as he craned his neck to watch Jo and Robin interact, laughing as Robin kicked his legs again, bouncing about in his arms, squealing in excitement at Jos' attempts to get him to speak.
"Ah" Jo stepped back, looking up at Alex. "Did you hear that? Sounded like a Da to me."
"Sounded like a burp to me." Alex shrugged, patting the baby's back, frowning at his wife's crazy behaviour.
"Don't be a spoilsport my baby is a genius aren't you?” Jo gushes, holding her finger out for Robin to grab onto. "Say dada."
"I'm sure he will be incredibly clever just like his mother, hey bud, you're not gonna talk for a while yet are you?" Alex aks, waving one of Robin's hands around as he spins slowly around the kitchen "No you're just thinking about mommy's boobs aren't ya?" He laughs, as Robin tries to pull his finger towards his mouth.
"Ha look at that he smiled" Alex exclaimed watching Robin's face light up.
"You just said that he is only two months and that is not physically possible blah blah" Jo recounted, whipping up the last remnants of juice.
"Yeah well you just said he's a genius which he is, isn't he? Mommy's boobs" Alex whispered again, watching Robin smile again at the mention of Jo's boobs.
"Alex" Jo scolded. Throwing the dishcloth in the sink moving over towards her boys.
"What?" Alex laughed "Look he's smiling." Alex exclaims excitedly as he lifts Robin up, turning him slightly so Jo can see the gummy smile gracing Robin's face.
"Not sure that makes him a genius" Jo mumbles "but he's definitely your son."
"Yeah, he is. Daddy smiles when he thinks about mommy's boobies too." Alex grins winking at Jo as he walks through to the living room away from the faint burnt smell left in the kitchen.
"Do you like his onesie?" Jo asks, plopping down next to Alex on the sofa resting her head against Alex's shoulder, while he sat Robin up on his lap facing the two of them. He was dressed in a simple white babygrow but there was something written across the front in bright blue writing.
My Daddy is a Superhero
"Yeah, it's cute I guess, not sure how true it is." Alex shrugs, trying to still the squirming baby with one hand as he leant back on the sofa wrapping his spare arm around Jo.
Frowning Jo snuggled closer, offering her hand for the little infant to grip on to. "What do you mean? You spend your life saving tiny humans, Captain America has nothing on you."
Alex gives Jo an appreciative smile, "You save lives too." He points out, bouncing Robin on his knee to keep the baby from fussing.
"Yes but today is all about you." Jo murmurs against Alex's neck, peppering kisses up his neck and along his jaw. "Sorry, it's off to a bumpy start."
"Hey I don't care about the waffles, I got the best gift right here and you aren't too bad either." Alex winks, turning to face Jo.
"Even if I haven't washed my hair in two weeks, and smell like a baby sick?"
"Oh especially then" Alex grins leaning in to press his lips against hers, it wasn't the most passionate kiss barely lasting a couple of seconds before Robin began to fuss and slap his hands against Alex's chest demanding attention from his parents.
Laughing quietly Jo and Alex grinned at their baby boy. "We will never have a moment alone again, will we?" Alex grumbled tickling Robin under his arms.
"No, probably not but I wouldn't have it any other way," Jo mumbled, laughing as Robin began to wriggle in Alex's arms, drooling as he tried to latch onto Alex's nipple.
"It might be fathers day but that is definitely mommas department." Alex laughs awkwardly passing Robin over to Jo as she shifts up in his arms, getting ready to feed their son. "Why don't I go make us some edible breakfast while you sort out this little guy's feeding?”
Sighing as she adjusted her sweatshirt to allow Robin to feed, Jo gives Alex a soft smile, she feels like she depends on him for way too much these days, she had just wanted this one day to be all about Alex. "Today is all about treating you though." Jo whines, quietly, stroking her finger across Robin's cheek as he feeds.
"Hey any day with you two and no idiot interns is a treat." Alex jokes, placing a soft kiss against Jo's temple as he pushes off the sofa heading towards the kitchen.
"Hey, Alex?" Jo calls, stopping him in his tracks.
Alex turns back, looking around the doorframe sending Jo a questioning look. "Yeah?"
"Happy Father's Day," Jo says sincerely, as she moves her gaze from Robin to Alex. "We're really lucky to have you."
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mountainofgoats · 6 years
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In a happy twist of art-inspiring-words-inspiring-more-art, @storycharacter brought this little scene to life as beautifully as ever. 
///
Night 
               “I’m not saying you overstepped-“
               “Then what are you saying, James? That I should have just let him walk all over me?”
               “No, not at all. I just think maybe you shouldn’t have so blatantly attacked his business practices.”
               Kara pauses in the juggling of keys, stands straight and practically feels the steam shooting out of her ears. “James his ‘business practices’ involve polluting the air right outside a children’s hospital! All I asked was that he look over his inspection records-“
               “And that doesn’t sound the least bit threatening to you?”
               “Air pollution, James! Outside a kids hospital!”
               “That may be, but you still have to remain professional. You know that.”
               Kara huffs, pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut. “So now what?”
               “Well he’s made it very clear that you are not welcome back, so someone else is going to have to take this one.”
               Her heart sinks right through her and settles somewhere by her shoes. “Maybe if I-“
               “You’re off this one, Kara. Okay?”
               She’d known it was a lost cause, but it still stings. “Fine.”
               “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
               “Yeah,” she mutters. She hangs up and thumps her head once against the door. She rests there for just a minute, pushing and pushing against the bubbling frustration and anger in her chest.
                She doesn’t want to bring this home. Not ever.
                And Lena had texted earlier, complaining about rich corporate executives having a bone to pick with her family, so she knows Lena’s day hasn’t been any better than her own. She can’t add to it with her own issues. She can’t do that to Lena.
                Heaving a deep breath, she finally manages to fit the key in the lock and swings the door open.
                The shower is running when the door opens, but the open bottle of bourbon on the counter is testament enough to Lena’s own bad day. That bottle was supposed to be Alex’s on game nights.
                 Kara’s phone buzzes, and she checks the screen – guiltily hoping it isn’t James - before she answers.
                 Speak of the devil.
                “Hey Alex,” she says wearily.
                “Hey, just wanted to give you a heads up,” comes Alex’s voice, sounding none too happy. “Haley wants you in here first thing in the morning to talk about what happened with the fire today.”
                Kara pinches the bridge of her nose. “She is aware that I don’t work there anymore, right? Why does she care?”
                “Something about interfering, I guess,” Alex says, annoyance apparent in her voice. “She’s probably going to ask you to back off.”
                 Kara bristles. “She has no business-“
                 “Hey, I know, I know,” Alex soothes. “She doesn’t. But I just wanted to warn you. She’s on the warpath.”
                  Kara huffs out a breath and plops down onto the couch. “I hate this.”
                  “I know,” says Alex. “I do too. Not having superpowered backup sucks.”
                  She says it like a joke, but Kara’s heart clenches with guilt. “Yeah, I bet it does.”
                  What if something happens and she’s not there? Who will have Alex’s back?
                  After a quiet moment, Alex breathes out a tired sigh. “It’ll be okay, Kara. We’ll fix this.”
                  Kara nods a little shakily, wanting to believe it but not quite managing to. “I miss you.”
                  “I miss you too,” Alex says in a tight voice. “We’ll do lunch afterward, okay?”
                  “Okay.” A little bit of the constricting pressure eases off Kara’s heart.
                  “Love you Kara.”
                  “Love you too.”
                  She hangs up just as the shower water turns off. And she wants to have a real, true smile for Lena, but she can’t quite manage it by the time she emerges with wet hair and Kara’s button-up dwarfing her.
                  Her brow furrows when she sees Kara. “What’s wrong?”
                  Kara shakes her head, gets up from her pathetic heap on the couch. “Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry, just…”
                  “That bad, huh?”
                  “No, no, I’m just-“
                  “Kara.”
                  Kara peeks up at her, and is met with such kind, tired eyes that something in her heart just twists with a mix of guilt and all-encompassing affection.
                 “You don’t have to hide from me. You know that, right?” Lena says softly.
                  Kara’s chest clenches again. “I know,” she murmurs. And she does know that. Part of her wants to just collapse on the couch with Lena and spill all the frustration and heartache she’s been carrying around for days now.
                  But there’s an open bottle of bourbon on the counter, there are dark circles under Lena’s eyes, and Kara just can’t right now.
                  “Later,” she says. She moves toward Lena as her face falls slightly. She brushes a lock of wet hair behind her ear, presses a kiss to her cheek. “We’ll talk later and we’ll both complain about how our jobs suck right now. Deal?”
                  Lena blows out a sigh, then bumps her hip lightly against Kara’s. “Deal.” Her nose wrinkles adorably. “Go shower. You smell like smoke.”
                  Kara smiles softly and can’t resist nuzzling closer to Lena for a split second. Lena jerks away with a squeal of ‘shower!’ and Kara feels her heart lift just a little on her way into the master bedroom.
///
               Kara steps out of the bathroom amidst the smell of something frying and the spitting of oil from the kitchen.  
               Lena’s frying something? She must really have had a day from hell.
               More than a little concerned, Kara speeds into the kitchen, ready to run some serious interference with kale salad and that gross tea Lena likes.
               All higher thought ceases when she catches sight of Lena.
               Still draped in Kara’s shirt, damp hair gathered over one shoulder, she leans one hip against the counter next to the stove. Green eyes dart side to side as she reads the back of a bag of… frozen potstickers?
               Kara didn’t even know they had frozen potstickers.
               “Are you alright?” Kara sputters.
               Lena starts slightly, spatula coming up half an inch as if in defense. “Oh,” she huffs upon seeing Kara standing frozen in the doorway. “Yeah? Why?”
               Kara gestures a little helplessly toward the stove, the sizzling pan. “You’re frying something.”
               Lena looks at the pan. Back at Kara. “Yes…?”
               “You’re frying potstickers.”
               “You like potstickers.”
               “Yes I do, but you don’t eat them.”
               Lena shrugs. “With the right circumstances I could be persuaded.” At Kara’s incredulous look, she offers a tiny smile that doesn’t really reach her exhausted eyes. “I figured we both could use some comfort food today, and going out is not gonna happen, so-“ she waves the spatula at the stove. “Potstickers.”
               Kara’s heart swells and her throat tightens. The rational part of her realizes it’s just potstickers, nothing to get overly emotional about like she is.
               But it’s not just about the potstickers, is it?
               She stares at Lena as she turns back to the stove, pokes around in the pan a bit. Her eyes trace the slope of Lena’s shoulders, remembering the weight she carries there. The weight of her family, her company, her legacy. The burden she has to constantly hold up against the people who would see her crumple under it with smiles on their faces.
                And yet she still finds the strength to shoulder the weight of Kara’s secret. Her identity. Her history. Not only shoulder it, but carry it with a quiet grace that leaves Kara more in awe of her every day.
               She listens to Lena’s heartbeat, gentle and steady. Grounding.
               Home.
               Kara speeds around the island, circles her arms around Lena, and pulls her tight against her chest. Lena’s breath huffs from the sudden tightness, but she immediately melts backwards with a soft sigh.
               Kara presses her nose to the curve of Lena’s shoulder and closes her eyes, feeling her heart inflate with relief from finally having the woman she loves so much wrapped up in her arms. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she whispers honestly.
               I don’t know what I’d do without you.
               She doesn’t say it.
               Lena chuckles quietly. “They’re just cheap dumplings.”
               Kara shakes her head, brushing slightly trembling lips against the top of Lena’s shoulder. “That’s not what I mean.”
               Lena rests her hands on Kara’s arms, leaning back even further. “I could say the same.” Her voice quivers just the slightest bit, and Kara’s heart twists.
               So so gently, Kara turns Lena around and cups her face between her palms. She brushes tender thumbs over Lena’s cheeks and tries to not get lost in those green eyes.
               Green eyes that are welling with tears.
               “You, Lena Luthor, are more than enough,” she whispers fiercely. “So much more than enough. And I will spend the rest of my life telling you that until you believe it.”
               Lena’s hands come up to squeeze Kara’s wrists and she offers a watery smile. “I’m supposed to be making you feel better,” she whispers weakly.
               Kara leans her forehead against Lena’s and brushes her thumbs over her cheeks again. “You make me feel better just by being here.”
               Lena sniffles, and Kara draws her into her chest. She holds her there, cheek pressed against her hair, doing her best to surround her with as much warmth and comfort as she can.
               Lena buries her face in Kara’s shoulder and loops her arms around her waist. Nuzzling as close as she can possibly get, she breathes out a sigh like it’s coming from deep within her soul.
              “We’re gonna be okay?” Her voice, muffled against Kara’s shirt, is young and unsure.
              Kara tightens her hold on her, closes her eyes and presses a kiss to her hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”
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post-itpenny · 4 years
Text
My Nature
Ok, last part of the story! A warning tag for gore but not too bad. Tagging @grotesquegabby for Alex.
Imagine-
Sitting in a chair in a room with no light. The walls and floors are bare. Imagine you can’t leave the chair.
Now imagine there is a small window in front of you. Sometimes it’s very far away and you can barely see out of it, sometimes it’s right in your face, exposing every detail of what’s on the other side.
Through this window you see… yourself. Your hands and arms, the tip of your nose. You see yourself acting and doing and saying things you did not choose to do. Feeling all the pain your body goes through. You watch yourself and yet you are not yourself. The real you is trapped in a dark room unable to leave a chair. The you outside the window is your body but not you.
And no matter how much you scream or try to move there is nothing. No control.
This is what Peregrine was going through.
He was in pain from the burns to his face and arms. He was crying in horror as he watched himself strangle Magpie. Aware of Circe taunting his sister using all the repressed feelings and memories he had tried to bury down and move on from. They didn’t matter anymore to him, or at least he was trying not to let them be.
Magpie passed out, her body going limp.
Peregrine felt his heart drop. “Please no, no, no, no.”
He watched his hand reach out and check her pulse, felt it’s faint beating.
Peregrine sighed in relief.
He watched his hand reach out and touch his sister’s face.
…………………………….
There was something banging against Alex’s window.
The party clown had been mindlessly channel surfing when he heard it, looking up from the tv to see Cobweb of all creatures desperately trying to get in.
Alex arched an eyebrow in curiosity as he opened the window, letting the grumpy fairy inside.
“Hey there bud. What’s the-“
Alex stopped at the sight of the little fairy with his usual frown but shaking in fear. As if trying to keep a brave face.
Alex scooped Cobweb up, “what happened?”
……………………………..
The door to the manor was busted down with a swift kick of Alex’s foot.
“Knock, knock.”
He walked in, hands in his pockets and Cobweb on his shoulder. A smile on his face.
But it wasn’t his usual smile, this one was… off.
Alex whistled a tune as he walked down the hall, stopping as he turned a corner to Magpie’s parlor.
There was Magpie and Peregrine standing next to each other.
Magpie tilted her head with an empty smile. “You weren’t expected.”
Alex grunted at the force of air that knocked into him. Cobweb being thrown off but Alex holding his footing. He blinked, Peregrine slamming his fist down on Alex’s shoulder.
Alex slipped out of the way with a grin, grabbing Peregrine’s arm and tossing him into a wall. Before he could recover Alex was on him. Punching him squarely in the face.
As Peregrine collapsed Magpie stumbled as well. Alex chuckled. Must have knocked whoever was in ol’ Peri clean out of him. Too easy.
The walls ripped as pipes and wires burst forth, trying to wrap around Alex as he slipped through them easily. From his back dark tentacles burst forth, reaching out to restrain Magpie. She teleported out of the way and sent a stronger gust of wind.
This time Alex nearly did fall, surprised when someone caught him.
Peregrine looked like he had been dragged through hell, his face and arms burnt and clothes singed and torn.
“It’s Circe,” Peregrine grunted, “Bitch is standing outside.”
“Well let’s say hello!” Alex laughed as he turned to run.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
They turned at the sound of Circe’s voice coming from Magpie. She had summoned a knife, holding it against her throat as a thin trickle of blood formed.
Both froze, Alex’s grin tightened as Peregrine growled.
Magpie smiled, her eyes showing fear. “Let’s all be nice and calm as we say hello. Ash still needs a host anyways.”
They walked back to the entry hall, Magpie behind with the knife still to her throat. Ash and Circe were already waiting for them. In Circe’s hand was a struggling Cobweb.
“Look Pie it’s your little plaything!” Circe cheered as she tossed the little fairy aside, Cobweb crashing on the floor where Trouble was trying to stand guard over the still limp forms of the other three.
“He thought it was a good idea to pull my hair, how cute” she sneered.
Ash looked over Peregrine with disgust, “Circe you trashed this one. What am I supposed-“
“Oh shut up,” Circe snapped. “Use the other then I don’t care.” She smiled at Magpie, “wouldn’t that be cute you little freak? You like him don’t you?”
Alex looked over his shoulder. Magpie watching him with the same empty smile and tears in her eyes.
Alex turned back around to find Ash’s hand on his face and an unfamiliar pressure boring into his brain-.
Well fuck that.
Alex grinned as Ash stepped back with a hiss.
What the hell is your problem?” Circe asked with a roll of her eyes.
Ash grimaced “what the hell spawned something like you?!”
“Hey now, my mom’s a nice lady. My old man however...” Alex chuckled darkly. Beside him Peregrine turned pale.
Circe scoffed. Behind them Magpie stomped her foot as the ground split. Pulling Alex and Peregrine aside.
Ash sighed in annoyance. “Really? That’s the best you can come up with? I’m so scared-“
“Shut up it's not easy controlling-“
“You just don’t have any good ideas,” Ash sneered. “Let me take a turn I coul-“
“Shut your mouth,” Circe snapped. “Do you realize how stupid- ugh!”
Alex climbed to his feet and dusted off his jacket. “Hey Lady Luck I know you’re in there. You really gonna just let-“
“Shut up!” Circe yelled. Magpie flinging her hand in Alex’s direction as he was tossed across the room and pinned to the wall by an invisible force.
Circe smirked. “You want to be impressed?” She asked her brother. “Fine, I just needed some inspiration.”
Magpie raised her hand, power crackling at her fingertips, and turned to where the fairies and Trouble were huddled on the floor.
“How childish do you have to be to make something like this?” Circe snickered. “Pathetic... get rid of them.”
BOOM!
The explosion came in a flash of light and heat. Drowning out the split second where four tiny voices screamed.
The explosion sent shockwaves out, ripping up the metal walls of the warehouses around it and tearing at the streets. Workers running for their lives.
The dust settled to show the entire front wall of Magpie’s home gone, hardly a splinter of wood or speck of stone remained.
Yet the fairies and Trouble were just fine.
Ash gaped in surprise, “what the-“
In unison Magpie and Circe fell to their knees. Hands on their heads as if in pain.
Ash tried to run to his sister’s side only for a black tentacle to wrap around his ankle and flip him up in the air. Alex chuckled as Ash thrashed about like a fish, “not today buddy.”
Peregrine knelt beside Magpie and placed a hand on her shoulder. Not saying anything but just assuring her he was there.
For a fight it was surprisingly quiet, the two women with their eyes locked on eachother. Whatever was happening known only between them.
Then, strangely, Magpie began humming. Peregrine knew it, had heard his sister sing it so many times as children and familiar with the feeling it brought. Alex watched in confusion, a shiver passing through him as he felt a pull at his-
Circe collapsed.
Magpie gasped for air as she fell forward into Peregrine’s arms. Alex falling to the floor as he was freed. He laughed as he flung Ash away and pulled both siblings into a hug. “You don’t ever do that to me again ok? You know I would have-“
L̵̻͌̉e̸̛̙͖͇t̵͕̬̑̓͜ ̷̙̘̲͝m̵̢̗̥̄͛̐͝ȩ̸̰͙̎ ̷̨̟̩̌͜g̶̽͂͠ͅo̴̺̎.̷̣̙̙͐͝”̵̲̇̈́͘
Both Alex and Peregrine jumped back as Magpie climbed to her feet. Eyes wild and the veins under her skin glowing.
Circe looked up in alarm as hands materialize from nowhere, clawed fingers ripping at her skin and tearing at her clothes. She screamed and thrashed about. Ash backing away in alarm as Magpie snapped her fingers and the air was sucked out of his lungs and turned to frost that formed small icicles, piercing his face.
He fell to the floor bleeding as he struggled for air. With a flick of her wrist he was flung out the manor and into the destroyed street beyond. Circe has somehow fought off the hands and charged at Magpie, hand extended.
Magpie reached out and Circe was hauled into the air. Arms and legs spread like a grotesque starfish.
Circe gasped in pain as her limbs were stretched. Joints popping, skin creaking. Stretching farther and farther.
For a moment Peregrine wondered if Magpie planned to draw and quarter Circe in her own fashion until a new change took hold.
Magpie’s skin was lit up like a star, heat radiating off her. Circe’s mouth open wide in a silent scream as the skin at the edges of her fingers and toes began to unravel like thread. Then the nails, the veins, the bones.
Soon both hands and feet were gone, nothing but piles of ribboned flesh on the floor. Alex and Peregrine doing nothing to stop Magpie’s torment while the fairies watched on in horror. Peasblossom shuddering and turning away at the scene.
As Circe’s arms and legs finished unraveling she began to silently sob.
Then, it stopped.
Magpie was breathing heavily, body shaking in anger. Tears streaming down her face.
Y̶̨̩̽̓̿̒o̸̦̱̽̓͊u̵̼̫͌̆̚͝ ̵̘̜͇̉c̶̨̀̑͘o̶̧͊̀͂͋u̶̡̼̠̽͒̇l̶̛̲̫̲͛̆̓ḑ̷̼͕͕̏̅͂n̸̼̩̲͗̚’̵̖̗̥̍̓͠t̷͉̏ ̸̟̬̻̬̃͑͆̉c̵̭̼̳͊͝o̶̙̰͍̹̔͛ñ̷̗̻̒́́t̵̡̜̉̀͛r̶̥͍̀ͅo̸̗̜̥͛̑̕͝l̵̪̥̃̈ ̸͕̗̻̐̓m̴̦̹̃̅e̶̡̤̹͆̎̓͜ ̸̤̦̞̾b̴̺̘̼̯́̎̀ë̶̜̩̀̋̚c̶̗̀́͋͝a̷̦͇̜̜̚u̸̪͖̗̇ş̴͔̝̟͂e̷͍͓̔̌̊ ̴̠̳̩̍͌ͅỳ̵͈̠͊o̷̹͒̓ŭ̴̲̦ ̵̦͉̲͙̅̿̇̋l̷̹̘͉̉͆͝ä̷̺̰̘̦́̆̀̑c̴͙̼̹͋͝k̶̛̰̤͗ ̷̡̅͂t̷̡͖͔̘̋͘h̷͔̦̮̀͒̏̿ë̵̠̥̙̉̔̀ ̴̡̤͔͖̇̕͝ḯ̸̬m̷͇̙̜̘͗̈́͛̚â̸͕̥͉͂͗g̶̱͛i̵̢̛̭̐n̸͚͇͙̚a̷̙̾͋͗t̶̼͍̊i̴̡͉͓̽̾͝o̵̡̽̽̈́̇n̷̼̻̅̒̇͊.̵̙̳̋͛̏̐ ̵̦̣͠L̶̝̮͆e̶̡̥̮̩̓ț̸̝̌͘’̶̤̺̭̼͋̿̃s̸̳͚̏͝ ̶̣͙̀̅͛g̴̢̻͈̺̍̌e̶͔̯̩͋̈́t̸̰̞̼̓̾ ̴̭̙̞̒̃c̷̠͆͑̊̚r̶̤̉̐͜ë̵̢̺͖́̓̚à̸̲̙́t̴̞̿̊̈́ĭ̴͖v̵̹̣̦̉̒̄̒ȅ̸̤̞͑͜ ̵̩͈̭̆C̴̻̋͝i̵̗͊r̶̪̪̮̲͗c̶̹͓͊ͅe̴̛̮̘̖̲͋̅.̴͖̝̪͝”̷̤̯̣͑̈̚
If Circe thought her body unraveling was painful, the reverse was so much worse.
The deadlight finally found her voice as she shrieked hysterically while her body reformed. Threads of flesh stitching back together.
Alex was about to ask what Magpie was doing when there was an explosion of light. Magpie’s hair erupting in a thousand shades of color that reached out as if to touch everything as Magpie began to walk. Each step a wave of power rushed out as the manor began to restore itself.
Magpie dragged a still screaming Circe with her as she went into the street. Colorful pavement forming and twisting around strange new buildings where the warehouses once stood. Strange and new plant life growing from nowhere. Colors of every shade known and unknown painted everything as all forms of insects, flowers, stretches of yarn, statues, crystals, trinkets, and all manner of things appeared everywhere. It was beautiful and full of life and color. A chaotic creation surrounding the restored manor.
And all the while Circe still screamed.
Peregrine felt his skin tingle, looking down at burned hands now healing.
Magpie now stood before Ash and Circe. There was a humming sound again. It was not Magpie but the same song from earlier. Alex shivered again as he felt the pull once more at his lights.
Alex blinked, looking down at his body and realizing his deadlights were indeed glowing faintly under his skin. Peregrine’s as well from where they were stored in his stomach and hands.
Ash and Circe glowed brightly, the sound intensifying as Magpie reached out.
“Well that’s new,” Alex whistled.
Peregrine however shook his head, “I think she could do this the whole time.”
Magpie closed her eyes as the deadlights of everyone around her hummed with life. A song she knew so well. With her outstretched hand she snapped her fingers.
The humming of Ash and Circe’s lights changed as they shouted in pain.
Magpie smiled sweetly, “On this planet you belong to me, your lights obey me. If you ever touch one of my family again they will listen only to me.”
As if on cue their lights flicked as they thrashed in pain. Bits of skin flaking off and dissolving into the air as if they threatened to fall apart.
“̸̯̜̆͒Ṅ̴͙̭̪̪̅̄o̴͙̠͇̅̂̎̒w̷̖͚͒ ̴̦̖̣̠̈́͛̎̌ģ̷̛͉̚ę̸̜̼͆͂́̎ͅt̵͕̹͚͊̑̿̀ ̴͖̪̄o̶̫͕̜̎̋͆̽u̶̘̯̪̓͘ţ̴͓̺̫̎͒̕.̴̙̈́̉͌͝”̵̛̬̦̮͔͌́͘
They were gone in a loud “pop!” Magpie taking slow breaths as the color left her hair and the glowing faded.
“So you can just talk to lights now huh?” Alex questioned as he walked up behind her. “Well why the hell not I gue-“
Magpie crashed into him with a tight hug. Burying her face in his jacket, shaking with tears.
Alex hugged her back and smoothed her hair. “It’s all good Lady Luck, it’s ok.”
Magpie reached out an arm and grabbed Peregrine who for once was not opposed to the forced group hug. “I’m so sorry I-“
“It’s ok,” Peregrine insisted as he hugged her back. “I’m sorry too, it's ok. But Pie you should have just kill-“
“No.” Magpie insisted as she pulled away.
Alex chuckled, “it’s cool and anyways if they come back I can always-“
“̸̡̩̓͒I̸̦̬̽̂͒ ̴̼̇s̵̻̗̰̩̉̕ā̶̺͚̈́i̸̗̟̐̊d̴̛̟̭̒̂͑ͅͅ ̸̠̈́̎͋͂n̴͖̠̲̕͝ͅo̵͉̘̹̮̽̐͊͘.̴̗͙͔̊͑”̴̡̮̓̐̄̀
Alex blinked in surprise. Magpie glaring at him and Peregrine both.
“̶̧̡̎̔͠Y̸̧̓̃͂o̴͉̮̥͊̔u̶̠͍͉͆̈́̆ ̸͖̒̋̚d̷̢͐ò̵͕̼̭̿͘n̶͙͙̱̐̾̅’̵̑́̊ͅt̶̰̣̂̾͘͜ ̸̙͚̻͛̅̆t̷͉̝̫͂h̸̞̀̃į̸̤̿n̴̢̥͚̓͑kI̵ ̷c̵o̶u̷l̴d̸ ̷h̸a̷v̵e̴ ̸j̵u̵s̴t killed them myself?” I’m not like either of you. I could erase any of you molecule by molecule. I could shut off your lights in a second or force them to my will and make you beg like dogs-“
“I’m not like either of you, I’m not like them. I̸’̷m̵ ̸w̵o̶r̵s̵e̷.̸”
“... But that’s why I fight to be better. That’s my nature.”
Magpie walked passed them both and back into her home that now sat surrounded by her tiny chaotic new realm that was nestled upon the planet under a cotton candy-colored sky.
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alpacannot · 5 years
Text
Chapter 2
I can’t keep doing this. Something’s got to give, I thought as a leaned my elbows on the sink. Sweat ran down my neck, and I ran my fingers through my slightly damp hair. I swallowed, my throat too tight. Blake pawed at my legs.
“I know, I know. I’ll talk to someone—I promise.” She sneezed, and I took that as my cue to get ready. I looked at my self in the mirror, at the tension around my eyes. “Get your shit together,” I muttered at my reflection. After a few minutes of fumbling around my dark apartment, I finally found my keys. I grabbed Blake and Marlow’s leashes and slowly made my way down to the office.
“You okay?” The security officer’s voice pulled me back to reality.
“I’m sorry?”
“Just checking to see if you’re okay. You’ve been coming in pretty early, even for you.” I checked my watch: 4:15 a.m.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just can’t sleep.” I pushed on into the office, letting Blake and Marlow pull me forward. They forced their way under my desk, and I dropped their leads.
“Alex? Is something wrong?” The hulking Keeper rose from my chair, towering over me.
“Not with me.” He paused, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he continued. “Look, Tris, PJ and I are worried about you. I’m sure others are, too. I know you’ve struggled with adjusting to everything, but you’ve been really out of it lately—coming to the office during the middle of the night, staying at work until everyone else has left, spacing out. If something’s wrong, if anything happened out there, you know you can tell me.” He locked eyes with me, and I immediately looked away. Tell him, I begged, but I knew I couldn’t. I laced and unlaced my fingers, hoping he would drop it. I wanted to tell someone about my nightmares, but every time I tried, the words wouldn’t come.
Alex reached towards me, smoothing the furrow between my brows. I wanted to protest, to tell him there was nothing to worry about, despite there be everything to worry about, but, as usual, I stayed silent. He sighed, backing away so I could get to my desk. He made his way towards the double doors, and I watched him walk away from me, just like I’d let everyone else.
“Alex. . .” He stopped, turning towards me. I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. His shoulders drooped.
“See you later, Tris.” He kept walking, and soon he was out of sight. Idiot. Why didn’t you say something? I sunk into my chair, and Marlow laid his head on my knee. I mindlessly scratched his head, my thoughts running a million miles a minute. Guilt ate away at me—my skin itched with it. I waited, hoping the feeling would pass, but I couldn’t shake it.
“Well, I’m not going to just sit here feeling sorry for myself. Blake, Marlow, let’s go.” They bolted up, ready to explore. I snatched up their leashes and stormed down the hallway. The endless corridors were a maze nearly impossible to escape, but I managed to find Human Resources eventually. Brushing past the security guard, I marched into the office and up to the first manned desk I saw.
“Take me to my brother,” I demanded. The woman looked up from the stack of paperwork on her desk, peering over her glasses.
“And do you have the proper paperwork?” Her blank stare boiled my blood.
“Of course not—but why does it matter? I work here!” I was quickly approaching hysterics.
“I’m sorry, miss, but without approval from the Undertaker, I can’t let you see your brother.” She returned to her paperwork. I turned back towards the door, breaking out into an all-out sprint, headed anywhere and nowhere. Blake’s barks echoed through the empty hallways, and I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over my cheeks. When I’d successfully lost myself, I slumped down the wall, a dark silhouette sprawled across the too-bright white walls and floor. I stayed there for hours, pain and grief and guilt gnawing a hole in my chest.
Marlow’s low growl drew my attention to the intruder, forcing me to look up. A small, slightly familiar man stood a few feet away, held back by Marlow and Blake. “Chris.” My voice was barely a whisper, raw from hours of crying. “I’m sorry you have to see this.” I wiped away the stale tears with my sleeve, and Blake came over to help me stand. Marlow continued standing guard, keeping Chris away. I picked up his leash, bringing him towards me.
“Do you need help?” he asked, tentatively reaching towards me. I shook my head.
“It’s fine. I’m on my way to work now.” Clinging to my dogs, I turned right and started making my way back.
“Um, Tris?” Chris’s voice rang through the empty space. I turned towards him. “Your office is that way,” he said, gesturing in the opposite direction. Grimacing, I turned around and walked back towards him.
“Let me at least walk you back.” He spoke gently, and I started feeling calmer.
“Okay.”
We walked in silence, and I was grateful that he didn’t try to fill the void with conversation, especially about the mess he found me in. I see why PJ likes you, I thought. I began to relax, letting the tension in my shoulders roll off my back.
“Thank you,” I muttered. He gave me a reassuring smile and continued leading me back to my office. PJ was sitting at my desk, his fingers drumming wildly on the arms of my chair. He stood up when he saw me, coming towards us.
“Oh, Chris, thank God you found her,” he cried, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” I managed.
“It’s okay—everything’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I would have gone to look for you myself, but Chris has been here longer and knows these corridors better than I do.” He smiled warmly at Chris with a rare tenderness. “Thank you again. I know you’re busy.”
“I’m glad I could help.” He looked between PJ and me. “I know this isn’t the best time, but remember what we talked about yesterday. It needs to be taken care of today—the sooner the better.” PJ squeezed me protectively, his hands tensing slightly.
“I know. Their timing sure sucks though. This isn’t exactly the best time to shake things up.”
“I understand, but maybe it will help. There’s not much of a choice, but still, just think about it.” He waved goodbye and left the two of us alone at my desk—well, as alone as we could be in an office full of Reapers in the middle of their work. PJ turned towards me, his eyes full of concern.
“You sure you’re okay? Because we can talk about it if you want.” I felt my resolve start to crumble, and I collapsed into my chair. PJ knelt beside me.
“I tried to see my brother today. Obviously they wouldn’t let me in, although I’m not sure what good seeing him would do. What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry for getting you killed when we were kids—turns out it wasn’t an accident, and it was supposed to be me. But, hey, I work for them now!’ He’d be so upset. I know I would be if he was responsible for my premature death.” I absently pulled at a loose thread on my shirt.
“Tris, you know that’s not true—well, at least blaming yourself isn’t right. I’m certain Alistair wouldn’t be angry with you. You were both children. And he went straight to Heaven. You know he wouldn’t be there if he was still holding a grudge.”
“What about my parents? One dead child, the other vanished. They’re still in the same house, hoping that one day I’ll come home, unsure whether I’m dead or alive. How is that fair to them? How is any of this fair?” He let out a low sigh.
“I know this system isn’t ideal, but it’s better than it was before. It was chaos when humans found out about us and were allowed to live. Reapers everywhere were being hunted, like the Witch Trials before those even happened. And sometimes accidents happen, but we’re all human here. We make mistakes, and while those mistake hurt people, the Undertaker isn’t just going to take away everyone’s agency. It’s one of the reasons he made humanity in the first place. I’m certain he would have been fine just letting everyone stay as non-corporeal beings in Limbo, but he wanted to give us a chance at something greater, and with that comes a chance to get hurt. And while I know this might not make you feel better, it’s the way things work here, and none of us can do anything about it. That sucks, I know, but it’ll get better. It stops hurting eventually.”
“Does it? Did it ever stop hurting for you? Any of it?” His face fell. Silence stretched between us.
“No, it didn’t. And horrible things still happen here, but eventually you find things that help make it hurt less. And some days are worse than others. And I’m sorry—the hurt will never go away, but at least the times between those terrible days begin to last longer. Sometimes it’ll be months before another bad day comes along. And what matters is that you make the most of those times in between.”
“PJ, it’s been more than ten years. When am I going to start feeling better again?” He shook his head.
“I don’t know—I don’t have all the answers. It’s different for everyone. I fell hard before I was able to get back up again. You remember. I was a wreck, and then I started to get better. I opened up about it, went to see a therapist, and gave it time. Getting out of the Higher Path helped, too. Dealing with death out there every day, it takes it’s toll.”
“But I can’t get out, not now. I’ve already graduated and made my choice.” PJ twisted the end of his shirt.
“I can’t get you out of it, but what if I could make it better? Less deaths, but more time out there?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Extended assignments? Aren’t those for interns?”
“Well, sort of like an extended assignment, but less educational. Look, I can’t give you all the details—I’m low on information as well, but Chris dropped off your Summons with me yesterday, asking me to review it before giving it to you. It’s your choice to accept it or not, but it mildly affects the two of us. We’d be pulled off regular Reapings to work solely with you and your paperwork. If it’s what you want, we’re both happy to support you.”
My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what he was telling me. A way out? I’d do anything. “Alright. I’ll accept the Summons.”
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hamilton-one-shots · 6 years
Note
For the prompt thingy, it's from the color coded list. I think it's a dark blue. It's the angst one. Lams. 1, 12, 18, 24. ( Forgive my stupidity. I can't function. )
(1: “Give me a chance.” 12: “I hate you.” 18: “I wish I’d never met you.” 24: “You need to leave.”)
John tutted as his books were once again knocked out of his hands by the stupid football team, kneeling down to pick them up. As he did, he found a pair of tanned hands helping him.
“Are you okay?..”
John glanced up and blushed at the face that he was met with, fearing that if he actually met his eyes, he’d disintegrate on sight. “I’m.. I’m fine…” He cleared his throat and stood up, taking his books back from the kind and handsome stranger. “Those stupid jocks always mess with me..”
“That sucks.. I’m Alexander.”
“I’m John.. Are you.. Are you new here?..”
“Yeah, I just moved here, actually.”
“Cool..”
Alexander smiled. “I like your eyes.. I hope I’m not too forward, but do you want to go out sometime? If not that’s fine, I’m just hoping you could give me a chance..”
“Um.. Yeah.. That’d.. That’d be nice..” He smiled shyly.
“Cool.” He grabbed his hand and wrote his number. “Text me.”
“I will.”
Alexander smiled and walked away, leaving a very homosexual John swooning.
That afternoon, he stayed by his phone for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too desperate, but not wanting to seem like he forgot Alexander. When he finally worked up the nerve to text him, he decided on just sending something simple. [Hey, it’s John :)]
Luckily, Alexander responded fairly quickly. [Hey! I’m glad you texted me :)]
He smiled and sat in his bed, texting away. [Yeah, of course!]
[So, when are you free to go out?]
[What about this Friday? I’m free after school that night]
[How does 6 sound?]
[Perfect]
[Great! Where should I pick you up?]
John gave him his address and the two of them kept texting for a while, talking about where they’d go on their date (just the mall at the movies) and just about Alexander moving there for school. Apparently, he’d moved there with his mom and was an only child. John, in turn, told him about his four siblings, asking to keep away from the topic of his own parents, and the conversation didn’t end until the middle of he night.
[Crap, it’s already 2 in the morning, we should get to sleep before we go through school dead :P] Alexander eventually pointed out.
John tutted. Stupid time going by too fast. [Alright, I’ll see you in the morning!] He sighed and went to sleep, waiting for morning to come.
When it did, he got up and got ready for school, running into Alexander in the hallway, just like before.
“Hey, John!”
He smiled. “Hey, Alex..” He looked past him and tutted as he saw the jocks pass, ready to lean down and pick up his books…. But he didn’t have to. They shot Alexander a quick glare before continuing to walk off. “… What was that?..”
“I don’t know.. They came up and talked to me and I guess I pissed them off or something.” He shrugged and turned back to John. “Whatever, it doesn’t really matter what they think of me. Right now, I’m only concerned with your opinion.” He grinned and stepped forward, putting his arm against the wall so he was leaning towards John.
John blushed darkly and felt his knees begin to shake. “T-Trust me.. My opinion is more than positive..”
“Good.” He leaned up and kissed his cheek, then walked to class.
John let his knees give out and leaned down against the wall. God, he had it bad…
That Friday, Alexander came to John’s house and waited for him to come outside, like they’d agreed. When he came out, they went to the mall and watched their agreed upon movie, Halloween, where John remained surprisingly calm, especially for someone who couldn’t stand near his crush without melting into a puddle of gay.
“That didn’t scare you?” Alexander asked as they came out of the theater.
John shook his head and shrugged. “No, actually. It wasn’t too bad. My friend Hercules always makes us binge watch the year’s scary movies around Halloween and picks out a few all stars, so I’m immune.”
“Wow.. You, John Laurens, are crazy.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“We’ll see,” Alexander responded with a wink.
That was the first of very many dates, at least one or two every week for a couple of months and a few kisses shared here and there in school before Alexandr decided to try and move things forward.
[Do I get birthday pics? ;)]
John giggled at that. [It’s my birthday, so do I?]
[I’ll send mine if you send yours]
[Deal, I guess, but I’ve never really done this before…] Alexander was his first boyfriend, after all.
[Don’t worry, I’ll start us off ;)] Alexander responded, following it up quickly with a dick pic, making John blush darkly. [I guess you’ve never seen one before?]
[No, actually.. Is that weird?] As a forever alone trans boy, it was honestly the first time he saw a penis.
[No, I think it’s sweet]
John smiled and made sure his door was locked before shifting around and taking what he thought was a decent nude picture before sending it to Alexander.
[WOOOOOAAAAAHHHHH You are gorgeous, not that that’s anything new]
He blushed and chuckled, keeping himself warm with his blanket. [Say what you want, I can’t wait until I can get top surgery]
[You’re beautiful as you are to me]
[Thanks
[Mind if I see more? ;)]
Well… There was no harm in Alexander seeing.
The two spent the rest of the night trading pictures and Alexander continued complimenting John’s body. It seemed harmless enough at the time.
In the morning, John got up and dressed and ready for school as usual, but was stopped by a message from his old friend Lafayette.
[Don’t come to school.]
[What? Why?]
[Haven’t you heard? About what Lee did?]
[What are you talking about?] John figured they just defaced his locker again, so he went to school anyways, hardly noticing people whispering about him any more than he usually did. The part that was hard to ignore was the picture taped to his locker. All pictures of him, from last night. Every inch of his skin, exposed.
John felt himself getting nauseous and ripped down the pictures, shoving them into the nearest garbage can as the jocks passed him by.
“And you have the nerve to call yourself a guy!” Charles Lee, their leader, howled with laughter. “I can’t believe you thought anybody would actually like you! You think the new kid really cared about you? A few hundred bucks and these treasures are ours.”
Another one of them piped up. ���What kind of guy has C cups? You fucking loser!”
“Aw, leave the lady alone guys!”
John ran away as soon as he could get his legs to move again, running full speed away and to one of the art rooms, where he always went to hide and be alone.
Alexander was already there waiting for him. “John, I-”
“Shut up! Nothing that you can say will ever make up for this.”
“I.. I really needed the money.. I didn’t want to hurt-”
“You know what I fucking did when I needed money because my father didn’t want to give his ‘daughter’ money to ‘dress like a fag’? I fucking worked my ass off, making art and doing whatever work I could find, paying for my own testosterone and clothes, all so I wouldn’t kill myself from the anxiety and self hate I felt. So, don’t say a word. You need to fucking leave.”
“John, please-”
“No. I hate you and I wish I’d never met you. Understand?”
Alexander frowned and began leaving, walking out of the room. He couldn’t tell John the truth. He really cared about him, but when those jocks started threatening John, threatening to hurt him until he couldn’t take it, unless Alexander gave them those pictures, what choice was there? Teachers wouldn’t care enough to keep an eye on John and there’s never be a time when he was under a watchful eye, 24/7. He’d prefer for John to be in this position rather than dead any day.
And, a week later, he wished for nothing more than for John to have felt the same.
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god--baby · 6 years
Text
jealousy ch 2: Alex (nsfw)
patrick hockstetter x henry bowers
part one
previously on: after Patrick almost fucks a girl at a party, he and Henry fuck around. 
summary: Henry has a conversation with his pigs. then, he calls up a girl he once fucked and asks her to a bonfire. they go, they fuck, and then Henry drives everyone home. 
word count: 3942
tag list: @heckstetter @tonguepopperr @bitchy-bowers @frostwolfie2936 @daddywise-issues
The next day, Henry spent the entire day at home alone. Well, as alone as he could be with Butch there half the time.
But he didn’t want to hang out with the guys. He didn’t want to see Patrick.
He hadn’t gotten lucky. He hadn’t blacked out and forgotten it.
Sometimes, when he wasn’t forcing himself not to think about it, he could still feel the weight of Patrick’s dick in his mouth. And that was not something he wanted to remember.
Butch left for a late shift after dinner, and Henry went out to the pigpen to see Bip and Bop. He brought his cigarettes and a lighter, and sat on the fence, looking down at his pets, chain smoking.
He got about three cigarettes in before he remembered the last time he’d chain smoked, just last night, after… whatever it was he did with Patrick.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know what he did — he remembered it like it was still happening. It was that he didn’t know what to call it. Did they fuck? Just plain fuck around? Did it matter? Could he convince Patrick to forget about it?
It did matter. And no, if he knew Patrick only half as well as he knew him, Patrick wouldn’t let go. He’d gotten a chance to sink his teeth in, and now he wasn’t going to let go.
Henry put his cigarette out and tucked the butt back into the pack so neither Bip nor Bop could get a hold of it. Bip snuffled at where his boot was propped up on part of the fence, and Bop laid down.
“I did something stupid, you guys,” he said to them. “Real fucking stupid.”
Bip snorted.
“Hey, shut up,” Henry said, then he felt silly. It had been a long time since he had a conversation with his pigs, but he needed them right now. “I don’t always do stupid shit, just sometimes.”
Bop turned his head to better look at Henry, and Henry imagined him looking at him with something like pity.
“I — I fucked around with Patrick. I sucked his dick,” he said, voice hushed.
Neither Bip nor Bop did anything for a long moment. Then, Bop stood up and started snuffling at Henry’s other boot. He felt like he had both their attentions, now.
“I didn’t really want to. ‘Cept maybe I did? I don’t do shit I don’t wanna do, and I did that.” He paused, swallowing hard, whispering, “I can still taste him.”
Bip let out a grunt and Bop mimicked him. Henry smiled.
“It wasn’t so bad, I guess. I wish — I wish it hadn’t happened. But it wasn’t so bad. He sure can suck a dick, I’ll tell you that. Fucking fag. Does it all the time. You know he tells me that shit?”
Bop grunted again.
“I know. I know a lot more about a lotta guys than I wanna know, ‘cause of Patrick. But that’s just Pat, I guess.”
Bip nudged his foot. Henry reached into the bag hanging off the fence beside him and drew out a handful of plain popcorn, holding it out for Bip to munch on. He smiled as they both snuffled at his hand, going at it like there was nothing they’d rather do.
“I don’t know what to do, now, though,” he said. “I don’t know what to do.”
They chewed, looking up at him.
“I don’t know, guys. Like, do I ignore him? What if he wants to do it again? Do I… do I go along with it? And does… does it make me gay to do this shit?”
They continued chewing.
Henry sighed. “You guys don’t even know what gay is. You’re just pigs. Unless… you could be gay pigs, I guess… we never did get you guys a lady friend. Just didn’t want to deal with piglets, you know. Hell, maybe you guys are gay, and I just don’t know ‘cause I don’t speak pig.”
Bip bumped Bop with his shoulder, closing his eyes for a second.
“Huh. Well, thanks for listening. I’m gonna go get drunk.”
He reached down and gave them another handful of popcorn before he hopped off the fence and walked back into the house.
He did get drunk, on a bottle of cheap whiskey he’d been hiding under his bed for a rainy day. The storm was all inside his head, but the whiskey… well, it helped. A little. Made some parts of it louder, but at least the taste of the alcohol was heavier than the memory of Patrick’s dick.
He jerked off that night, trying to think about the last real tail he got, some snarky girl from Etna, but that quickly turned into Patrick. It wasn’t his fault — the girl kinda looked like him. Shortish dark hair and eyes that take no shit without laughing in its face. And that smile — kinda scary, like she was begging the world to try something so she could fuck it up.
That’s who he should have been fucking around with. Not Patrick.
Sure, she looked like him. But she wasn’t him.
At least she was a girl.
The next morning, he dug around for her number, trying to remember her name. He found it, written in red permanent marker on a napkin, under her name.
Alex.
Alex. Nice.
He called.
“Gray residence,” said a tired-sounding lady. “Who is this?”
“Uh, my name’s Henry, ma’am. I’m calling for Alex?”
“Huh. Alex!” she shouted, pulling the phone away from her mouth.
“What?” came a voice that sounded far away.
“Some boy’s on the line for you,” said Mrs. Gray.
“Fine,” huffed who he assumed was Alex. The phone got shuffled around. Then: “Hey, Tony.”
“Who the hell,” he said, “is Tony?”
“Sorry, who’s this?”
“Henry Bowers,” he said.
“Who?”
“We met at a party. I’m from Derry. Bet you a dollar you couldn’t shotgun a beer in four seconds. You won.”
“Oh,” she said, and he could hear her smiling. “That’s your name. I had forgotten.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling too, though he was a little taken aback that she’d forgotten his name. Even though he had forgotten hers, too.
“So, what’s up?” she asked. She was chewing gum. He could hear it popping.
“There’s this bonfire tonight. Wanna go?”
“What kinda bonfire?”
“The drinking kind.”
“Sounds good.”
“Should I swing by with the guys, or?”
“No, I gotta car. No sweat, just tell me where it is and I’ll show.”
He told her, and they talked for another minute before saying goodbye.
Good. So he had a little bit of ass lined up for the night. Hopefully her pussy would take his mind off Patrick’s dick. Hopefully.
He finished his chores and took a shower, making faces in the mirror while he dried his hair off. It was always so fucking fluffy and everywhere when it was wet.
When the guys showed up, he walked out to the car, pointing from the front seat to the back so Vic would get the message and move.
“Hey, Henry,” Patrick practically sang.
Henry grunted but didn’t say anything.
“How was yesterday?” Patrick asked. “We missed you.”
Henry snorted and got in the front. “It was fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I called up that chick who knows how to shotgun a beer — Belch, you remember, tight little piece of ass with black hair? Anyway, I invited her out to the fire.”
Belch grinned, his eyes crinkling.
“Jesus,” said Vic. “How long’s it been since you got laid?”
Henry made the great mistake of looking over his shoulder at the back seat and got an eyeful of Patrick’s wicked smile. He looked away from him to Vic, grinning.
“A week,” he said. “Fucking long week. What about you, princess?”
Vic winked.
“What was his name again? The guy whose dick you sucked at the party?” Patrick asked.
Henry wasn’t dumb. He knew exactly who those questions were directed at, and it wasn’t Vic.
“James,” Vic said. “More of a grower than a shower.”
Belch and Henry groaned, Henry reaching back to swat at Vic’s knee.
“We don’t need to know that shit, Vicky,” Henry said.
“Yeah, yeah. Here’s a question — how come you guys can talk about dripping wet pussy but I can’t talk about the size of a guy’s dick?”
“You can talk about pussy, too, Vic,” said Patrick, chewing on one of his fingertips. “You just gotta get some first.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Vic shot back. “Besides, if I wanted pussy right now, I could get it. I’m just having so much fun with guys who are discovering dick for the first time.”
Henry felt his ears heat up.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’m done with this.”
And then he reached over and turned the music up to blaring.
They arrived at the bonfire half an hour later, piling out of the car and lighting up cigarettes. Everyone except Belch smoked at parties — well, kinda. He preferred weed to smokes, and right now he was wondering out loud if there would be someone willing to share.
There always was. No one said no to them.
He and Vic wandered off into the crowd, joking and pushing each other every few steps. Suddenly, Henry was very alone with Patrick, something he didn’t want to be, not even in the slightest.
“Henry,” Patrick said in that sing-song way he had. He walked around so that he was in front of Henry, and Henry pushed his back up against the Trans Am, blocked in as Patrick put his hands on either side of Henry’s shoulders.
“What do you want, Hockstetter?” Henry snapped, looking away from him.
“How ‘bout a repeat performance before that sweet little girl shows up, hm?” Patrick asked. “What, did you think I’d just forget about that?”
“I fucking know you,” Henry said. Reminding him, not that he really needed to. Patrick knew. Patrick wasn’t dumb.
“Yeah, you do,” Patrick said.
Then he reached in and dragged one of his thumbs down Henry’s bottom lip, pulling it down.
“I’m not just gonna let go of that pretty little mouth, baby,” he said.
“Too fucking bad,” Henry barked as a car pulled up next to them. He pushed Patrick away as hard as he could, making him stumble away, grinning. “I said it was a one-time thing. I meant it.”
Out of the car climbed Alex, her hair a little more neat than Henry remembered, her skirt as daringly short as last time, her boots as tall. God. He’d only seen her once before, but she was a damn sight for sore eyes.
“Henry,” she said, grinning up at him.
“Alex,” he said.
“Who’s your friend?” she asked, eyes skipping over to Patrick for just the shortest moment, nothing more than a heartbeat.
“That’s Patrick. He’s an asshole.”
“Oh, I didn’t know he was your best friend,” she said, laughing.
In spite of himself, he laughed, too.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you a drink,” he said, putting an arm around her and guiding her away from the cars, closer to the fire and the small grouping crowds of people. He heard Patrick suck his teeth.
Half an hour later, and Alex was gloriously drunk, swaying in Henry’s arms. She was short enough that he could put his chin on top of her head, and he did, holding her.
She turned in his arms.
“Guess what?” she asked.
“Mm. What?”
“Something new,” she said.
Then she stuck her tongue out. There was a bar through it, two balls on either end.
“Well, fuck,” he said.
“Isn’t that just the prettiest thing you ever saw?” she asked.
“Sure, baby. Wonder how it’d feel on my dick.”
She grinned and played with her tongue ring, making it scrape along her bottom teeth.
“You don’t even have to wait to find out,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. C’mon.”
She took him by the hand and pulled him away from the fire, out into the darkness by the cars. She found hers and pushed him up against it, pulling him down for a hard kiss. He was surprised that the tongue ring didn’t really feel like anything while kissing. Just something a little bit extra.
He slipped a hand down to her ass and grabbed it, pushing her skirt up so he could really get at her. She was probably wearing a thong, because there was more skin than fabric under his hand.
She got to her knees, undoing his pants and pulling out his dick before he could really think about it. Then — she licked a thick stripe up the shaft, and he closed his eyes, sighing, as the ball of her tongue ring slid over him.
“You like that, babe?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. A little shot. A little breathless.
She giggled and went right back at it, taking him into her mouth, licking at the slit, swirling her tongue and that little ball around the head before taking him further into her mouth. Into her throat, making her choke just a little bit.
He swallowed, suddenly remembering Patrick. How he didn’t choke. Not even a little bit.
He shook his head, then looked down at her. Her eyes were closed. Good.
He put a hand in her hair, gently pulling her on and off him. Then, he pulled her fully off. She pouted up at him.
“What?” she asked. “Do you not like it?”
He pulled her up by her hair and she let out a little whine, scrambling to her feet.
“Love it,” he said. “But I’m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby?”
He shouldn’t have said that. He should have just called her by her name.
When he heard baby, in his head echoed Patrick’s voice.
He pulled her in for a kiss, then turned them around until her back was pressed to the car. Still kissing her, he reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them and bent down to pick them up. Then, she tucked them into his back pocket.
“For safe keeping,” she said.
“Mm.”
He pulled a condom out of his front pocket and rolled it on as she hitched her skirt up. He swiped two fingers over her cunt, then pushed in. She sighed, eyes fluttering closed. She slipped one leg up around his waist, and he pulled the other one up to match it, letting the car hold her up, fucking into her.
In a few minutes, he was coming. He pulled out of her and took the condom off, tying it before throwing it out further into the darkness. Then, he got to his knees and started eating her out, pushing his tongue into her, licking at her clit, pushing two fingers in and curling them up, pumping hard and fast.
It didn’t take her long to come, and when she did, she sunk to her knees in front of him with a whine, pulling his fingers into her mouth.
“Fuck, baby,” she said. “Holy fuck.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, putting her forehead on his shoulder. “Gimme a minute.”
He grinned.
“Okay,” he said, putting a hand in her hair.
Finally, she took a big breath and kissed him, just a little soft thing. He kissed her back, a little more insistent, and she sighed.
She stood up, dusting dead grass off her knees, and pulled him to his feet. He tucked himself back into his pants. She started to walk away, and he caught her by the shoulder.
“Your panties,” he said.
“Keep ‘em,” she laughed. “You earned ‘em.”
He grinned.
“Okay.”
“Fuck, I gotta sober up,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I gotta — I gotta go home. Eventually.”
“Well, okay,” he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her toward the fire. “Let’s get you some water.”
An hour later, with Alex gone, he was ready to leave. He wandered around, looking for the guys. He found Vic and Belch sitting with a group of stoners, some baby-faced boy in Vic’s lap, all of them absolutely high.
“Jesus,” he said. “You guys are gone, aren’t you?”
The girl sitting next to Belch laughed, high-pitched and kinda annoying, putting her hand on Belch’s knee.
“Yeah,” Belch said slowly. “How was… what was her name?”
“Alex?”
“Hey, that’s my name,” said the boy on Vic’s lap.
Henry rolled his eyes.
“I’m gonna be honest, babe,” said Vic to the boy. “I had forgotten your name.”
“That’s okay,” the boy said, Alex said, pressing a kiss to Vic’s forehead. “You can call me whatever you want.”
“Alex was good,” Henry said, over the chuckles and giggles the whole group let out. “But I’m ready to go. Want me to drive?”
“Fuck, yeah, you better,” Belch said, standing.
The girl beside him started pouting, and he ran a hand over her hair, making her brighten up.
“Vic,” Henry barked. “C’mon.”
It was Vic’s turn to pout. But still, he pushed the boy Alex off his lap and stood.
“Where’s Hockstetter?” Henry asked.
“Looking for you,” Belch said slowly.
“Great,” Henry said.
All three of them started walking around, looking for Patrick. Patrick, who seemed to not want to be found. Finally, they gave up and walked out towards the Trans Am, lighting up cigarettes as they went. When they got there, the car was gently rocking.
“Found him,” Vic said, chuckling.
“Yay,” Henry snarked.
Just what he needed. To sit around waiting while Patrick got laid not two feet away from him.
They all heard a girl’s loud moan, and then the car stopped moving.
In a minute, both Patrick and the as yet nameless girl scrambled out of the car. The girl seemed exhausted. Patrick, of course, was grinning.
The girl was blonde. Her hair, short and scruffy. She wore a short dress that she pulled down in front, Patrick’s hand on her ass in the back. Her nose was familiar for a moment, and then it hit close to home.
Somehow, Patrick found the one girl who looked just like Henry.
Just like Henry’d fucked a girl who looked just like him.
“Get your hand off my ass and introduce me to your friends,” the girl said to Patrick.
Patrick kept his hand on her ass as he said, “guys, this is Hailey. Hailey, these are the guys.”
Not a proper introduction. She must not be sticking around.
“Now, go,” Patrick said. “They want to leave, and I’m going with them.”
She huffed, and left, giving Patrick a tight smile over her shoulder. He gave her a short wave, waiting until she looked away to roll his eyes.
“Now, that,” he said, “is a one-time thing.”
Henry knew exactly what that meant. It was for him. Because of course it was.
“What, no good?” Belch asked.
“Oh, she was fine,” Patrick said, making a dismissive hand gesture. “But not good enough to keep around.”
“Mm,” said Vic. “That’s a shame. She’s cute.”
Henry rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go. I’m driving,” he said.
“What?” Patrick asked.
“Belch and Vic got too high. I’m driving,” Henry said.
They all piled into the car, Belch and Vic sitting in the back. Much as it made Henry’s stomach tight to have Patrick up front with him, he couldn’t say anything about it.
Ten minutes into the drive home, and Belch and Vic were both asleep.
“Aw, look at that,” Patrick said, grinning. “The kids are all tuckered out.”
Henry snorted but didn’t say anything.
Then, Patrick put his hand on Henry’s knee. Henry pushed it off, and Patrick just did it again. Sighing, Henry let him. He was tired, didn’t feel like fighting every little thing.
“You know,” Patrick said, rubbing a little circle over Henry’s thigh with his thumb, “I could suck your dick right now, and they’d never know.”
“Patrick,” Henry hissed. “No.”
Patrick leaned in and nipped at Henry’s earlobe, then whispered in his ear.
“Fucking some little girl who looks just like me. Like I wouldn’t notice.”
“I didn’t fuck her ‘cause she looks like you, asshole. I fucked her ‘cause I like her. She’s cool.”
“Mm hm. Doesn’t take away the fact that she looks just like me.”
Henrys sighed and took a hand off the wheel to push Patrick away.
“What about Hailey or whatever her name was?” Henry spat. “What about her, huh? Talk about someone looking just like someone else.”
“Yeah, that was the plan. If I can’t have you, I wanted the next best thing. But she didn’t suck a dick like you, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t suck your dick, asshole. You fucked my fucking face,” Henry hissed, keeping his voice down even though he wanted to yell.
“Mm. And you did good. Much better than her.”
Henry sighed. Patrick got in his space again, licking at his neck, pressing little kisses to it. Unwanted, a shiver traveled through Henry’s body.
They got back to Derry without anything real or bad happening. Henry woke the guys up, dropped off Belch and then Vic, then headed to Patrick’s place, parking at the curb, wishing he’d had the good sense to drop Patrick off first.
Patrick unbuckled himself and then climbed into Henry’s lap. Henry sighed, looking away from him.
“Look at me,” Patrick barked. “Look at me right now.”
Henry’s eyes stayed to the side until Patrick grabbed his chin and pulled it to the front, forcing him to look at him. Henry swallowed, seeing the hungry look in Patrick’s eyes.
“What do you want?” he said, voice tired, a little too soft.
“You,” Patrick said. “Always you.”
Then he leaned in and kissed Henry. Henry willed himself to not respond, to just sit there and let it happen.
“Jesus,” said Patrick, pulling back. “You really think you don’t want this, don’t you?”
“I don’t want you, Patrick,” Henry said, shaking his head. He swallowed. “I don’t want you.”
Patrick ground down on his lap, against him, and Henry felt himself getting hard. His dick was a fucking traitor.
“Your dick says you do, baby,” Patrick said.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t know what I’m thinking. I want you to leave.”
“No, you don’t,” Patrick said.
“Yeah, I do.”
Patrick kissed him again, harder this time, one hand going down to drag fingernails over Henry’s bulge. The little vibrations of the nails over the denim went straight to his fucking stomach, making it tight.
“What do I have to do to make you leave?” Henry said when the kiss had ended.
“Just kiss me. Once. Like you fucking mean it.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it, baby.”
“I’m not your baby, Hockstetter.”
“You are. You just don’t know it, yet.”
Henry sighed and pulled Patrick into a hard kiss, holding him by the sides of his face, licking into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip. Patrick sighed into it, relaxing, hands going to pull at Henry’s hair. He pulled, hard, and unwanted, a moan came out of Henry’s throat.
“That’s it, baby, moan for me,” Patrick said, lips brushing Henry’s.
“You got your kiss,” Henry said. “Now, leave.”
“Aw, c’mon,” said Patrick. “Don’t you wanna see where this will go?”
“Not really,” Henry said, pushing Patrick off his lap. “Go.”
Patrick grinned and pulled Henry’s hair again, his thumb making little circles on the side of Henry’s neck. Then, he leaned in and pressed a short kiss to Henry’s lips, and got out of the car, walking to his door.
Without waiting to see if he made it inside, Henry drove away.
99 notes · View notes
jiemba · 7 years
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Title Fight Chapter 2 - Feathered Beast (Teen Sanvers AU)
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So sorry for the wait on this! Life’s been a bit rough lately but I’ll try to post more regularly. 
On AO3 here. 
In the worst dreams, she can’t remember what he sounds like. But when she wakes, the memories of him are everywhere, familiar and grating, the way she can never quite get sand out of her bed.
In the early weeks, she’d collapsed at her sister’s feet under the lightning crack of her own wail, finally asking her in hitched wet chokes if people believed in ghosts on Krypton. Kara told her no, that spirits went to live in the stars after, to be closer to Rao - and Alex was left with no explanation for why she felt him everywhere, why she could smell his coffee in the mornings when she first woke up, why she could literally hear him sometimes. No explanation except that she was losing her mind.
The idea of him being among his favourite constellations is a hollow comfort. He’s not there, but this ghost that lives in her house isn’t anything like him. It’s far too dark, brutally gutting, dulling every star in every night. It smothers her and cradles her in one embrace. It is a quiet tyrant. A feathered beast.
She throws herself into the water, the early morning cold sucking all the breath from her body. A crack of broken light spills blood between clouds and over her skin as she paddles her board faster, further, until it’s hard to breathe. She used to think he was here, in this ocean. She had researched how long it would take for a body to decompose in saltwater of this temperature. How far the smaller bones would carry with deep sea currents, how far the larger. She had approximated how much there was left to find, each day another part of him dissolving. His shoes would take the longest. She’d hated him - for tainting the one place she came to think, for staining the water with his own blood so she could never swim in it again. But quickly the morning pilgrimages became obsessive. She could hear his voice, sometimes. A “Nice one, champ” between the collapse of two waves. An “Easy, kiddo” when she lost her footing. A muscle memory fading too fast from her mind, the way a record gets scratches the more it is played. She knows better now. He’s not here. Today, the water tumbles, and the birds roll together in spirals diving for prey, and other surfers call to each other in the lulls, but beneath that, nothing. Her body folds at the waist, her face falling into her hands, a shuddering sob scraping out of her lungs as she keeps herself from crying out for him. Dad. Daddy. The ocean seems to know. It cradles her with an intimate familiarity that she’s known almost as long as she knew him, rocking her as if to soothe a child. When she was small, she would pretend to fall asleep on long car rides, just to feel her father hold her like this. He always carried her to her room, even when he knew she was faking. She doesn’t remember when she got too big for it – only the feeling of loss when he started waking her up. How she longs for that now – for him to wake her up.
She comes home just as Kara’s body slams into a wall. “Alex!” “I’m coming,” she calls, bounding up the stairs and almost slipping over. “ALEX!” “Jesus, Kara, what’s wrong?” In their room, the younger girl is reeling from being wrenched back into her body, her limbs curling inward as she visibly shakes, face red with sweat and tears. “Alex…” “Hey…” she murmurs, rushing to kneel before her little sister, checking her over. There’s a dent in the wall, a not uncommon side effect of Kara’s nightmares while sleep-floating, but she’s unmarked. Just startled. “Hey, it’s OK. You’re alright.” “You w-weren’t here.” “I’m sorry -” “I woke up and you were gone.” “Hey-” “You left me alone.” The girl looks impossibly smaller than her frame, curling tighter into a shaking ball as she hides her face from her sister. “I was just surfing. Just over there, see? You’re not alone. You’re not up in space. You’re here. You’re OK. Just keep breathing.” “A-Alex,” she sobs, over and over, breath coming out in thick chokes as Alex tries to hold her. “Kara, you need to calm down.” She can’t help the edge in her voice – the nerves and frustration. “Please. Mom’s probably sleeping. You have to be quiet, OK?” Kara immediately stiffens at the words, biting her lip to quiet herself into softer whimpers. She wipes her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I know.” “The wall… I’ll get you in trouble.” “It was an accident,” Alex seethes, forcing herself to keep her touch soft, when all she wants is to hit something. She takes a blanket, dabbing the sweat from her sister’s forehead. “Look, let’s get you cleaned up, OK? Come on. Quietly.” The younger girl nods, eyes downcast, letting Alex lead her to the bathroom. While she’s in the shower, Alex braces herself as she treads through the house, still wet herself, salt crisping in her hair, but the rage doesn’t come. The only trace of her mother is in the kitchen. An empty bottle of wine and an unfinished plate of dinner in the fridge. Fifty dollars on the table and a note. Gone to lab. Kara needs some school things. Will be back late. Alex scrunches the note tight in her fist before she can cry over it. This is the sum of their communications, now. This is the best she can hope for, now.
It’s while she’s cooking pancakes - Kara soothed and clean and cautiously petting Streaky at the kitchen table - that the doorbell rings. Alex groans. “Who the hell -” “It’s J’onn!” Kara exclaims, and in a flash she’s already opening the door, scooped up in a hug by a man twice her size, and Alex has to look away. “How are you, girls?” “OK. We’re going school shopping today.” “How about you, Alex?” he presses, a little softer. She barely looks up from the stove. “Fine. I thought we weren’t training til 4.” “I heard distress this morning. I came.” “Kara’s fine. I took care of it.” “She’s not the only one I heard, Alex.” She shoots him a quick glare. “I told you to stay out of my head.” “Sometimes it can’t be helped.” She rubs her bleary eyes with the back of her hand, swallowing a yawn. “Well sit down, since you’re here.” “I can cook, Alex,” he murmurs as he approaches her. “You haven’t slept much, you should rest.” “Yeah well, I have to buy Kara’s things and patch a hole in the wall before my mom notices, so we don’t always get what we want.” “Alex, I’m sorry -” “It’s not your fault, Kara.” J’onn nods slowly, leaving Alex to pace over to Kara, who’s still petting the cat. He reaches a hand out to the creature, smiling slightly at its texture. “Hello, friend.” “Don’t tell my mom I let him in, she’ll freak,” Alex mutters, scooping some more batter into the pan. J’onn nods. “We don’t have to train this afternoon, if you’re too tired.” “I’m fine.” “Eliza says it’s a good outlet for her anger.” “God, shut up, Kara.” “Alex, don’t talk to your sister like that.” “Don’t talk to me like you’re my dad,” she spits back, tears burning in her eyes, and for a moment it all stops. J’onn waits for the thoughts in her mind to quiet before he approaches her, sighing as he leans against the fridge. “Alex, I know I can never replace him in any way. And I don’t want to. But I made your father a promise -” “I know,” she interrupts. A tear slips down her cheek, but her hand comes to smear it with a speed that almost rivals Kara’s. “I’m still trying to find out what I can at the DEO. As soon as I know where his body lies, I will bring him home to you. I promise.” “You’ve been saying that for months. There’s nothing more to know.” Her whole body shivers. She grasps the edge of the countertop with both hands, closing her eyes. “There’s nothing.” A strong hand comes to grasp her shoulder, and she lets him pull her close, desperately pushing from her mind the memory of the last man who held her with this kind of care. “I also lost my father, at Mars’ end,” he murmurs into her hair. “I know.” She sniffles into his shirt. “Does it go away?” “It eases.”
It occurs to Alex then, that all three of them are fatherless - how grief had spared none of them, swiping at family trees and breaking branches. She uncurls herself from J’onn’s body, wiping her face as she turns to Kara. “I’ll call Mr and Mrs Li to see if you can hang out with Kenny while we’re training.” “I want J’onn to teach me to box too,” Kara grumbles in exasperation. Alex scoffs. “You’d kill someone.” J’onn shoots her a look. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she relents, swallowing guilt at the sight of her sister timidly withdrawing her hands from the cat. “Just…you know what Dad said. Showing yourself just puts you at risk. Us too.” And you already lost me my Dad. “Alex,” J’onn warns her, clearly having heard. “Go lie down for a moment. I’ll finish breakfast and drive you both to get what you need before training.” She doesn’t bother replying – just pushes past him to curl into a ball on the couch, digging into her pocket for her mp3 player and blasting Offspring’s ‘Gone Away’ as loud as she can bear it. Loud enough for J’onn to hear it in his own mind, to sense how he makes her feel pain and need all at once.
Of all the things on Maggie’s to-do list before school starts, finding a job ranks towards the top. It’s crucial that she makes as little a dent in her Tia’s life as possible – that she shrinks herself to the point of being barely there, lest she be too outspoken, too daring, too young ever again. Back home, she’d babysit for the neighbours’ kids and feed their chickens before school - until it happened. Later, the best she could do was stack boxes on weekends at her Tia’s work, just cash in hand - until the other thing happened. At least here, no one knows. There are more than a handful of stores. And a lot of people look like her, more than she’s ever seen. The mall near the apartment has a movie theatre, and a food court, and two whole floors of stores, and it takes hours to go door to door. She tells the bookstore about how she helped at her Aunt’s job. Tells the pet store about Hugo and Dante. Tells the taqueria that her Abuelitas had her helping in the family Cinco de Mayo feasts since she was five. She tells them all she’ll do any job. That she’s a good girl, who speaks good Spanish (not the best Spanish), and doesn’t mind how early she has to wake up or how dirty her hands get, and just wants the chance to make a few dollars to help her family. She tells none of them about her injury. By mid-afternoon, the new phone number scrawled on the inside of her arm has blurred into a vague smudge, but her hand remembers how to write it on forms without thinking. There’s only one place to go after that, a note from her Tia guiding her down a track of back alleys and over a bridge to a warehouse devoid of any colour, save for a weather-worn sign across the front wall declaring it a fighters’ gym, sun flaring on the road under her feet. It’s ten degrees hotter inside – so many men swinging and jumping rope and grunting that the gym itself feels like a breathing thing, a Public Enemy soundtrack seated under a constant pattering of thuds and clangs and sounds that would be groans of pain if they weren’t quite so breathless. It’s a dodge between bodies to get to the back office, but she immediately understands why he’s tucked away in there, cocooned from the disciplined chaos outside. “Can I help you?” he asks her as he picks videos from a bookcase, voice raspy like it’s spent years shouting over noise like this. “I…” she starts, before she knows what to say. “My aunt called, she said you had a youth program? She told me to stop by.” He peers at her over his glasses. “Margarita, right?” It’s the first time a stranger’s ever pronounced her name correctly, but she still shakes her head. “Just Maggie.” “Hector. Would’ve noticed you in here before. We don’t get a lot of girls.” He squints at a tape, rubbing his eyes before he hands it to her. “What year does that say?” “1985.” “Damn it,” he grumbles, setting it aside. “You box, Maggie?” “I can fight.” “Not what I asked.” Maggie digs her hands into the pockets of her shorts, eyes finding the floor. “We have strict rules here,” Hector tells her. “Fighting stays in the gym. I don’t want to hear about you smacking some poor kid in math class.” “It’s not like that,” Maggie insists. “I don’t do that stuff, it’s just…” “Just what?” he mutters, voice clipped. She tries to steady herself as she looks him over, something about the shape of his eyes reminding him of a Tio back home. “I just moved here from Nebraska,” she admits. “The kids there…they didn’t like me. And… I dunno, Tia thinks this’ll be good for me, I guess. ” The unsaid things hang suspended, but he nods like he doesn’t need to hear them. “We have classes through the week, and youth-only open training is on Tuesdays and Thursdays 4-7. Any other time you need to drop in to lose your cool, do your homework, whatever, you just drop in. Nobody’ll bother you.” “I…” she starts, trying to let the too warm air settle in her chest, the heat filtering into her cheeks anyway. “Lo siento, no tengo mucho dinero.” “That’s fine, mija.” “I can work for you if you need. I can clean the gym for you, or help you sort through your office, or -” “No hay necesidad. You just focus on school. And our youth classes are sliding scale.” “What’s that mean?” “Just pay what you can. If it’s a dollar, it’s a dollar. Just show up. I’d rather you kids be here than off doing drugs someplace. I just need your parents to sign these before you start,” he explains, handing her a waiver. She baulks a little. “Vivo con mi Tia. Eso esta bien?” He gives her a sad smile, his eyes wrinkling around the edges. “No problem.” Maggie exhales slowly, unable to lift her eyes to his as she accepts the paper, her father’s pride still etched in her bones. He takes off his glasses, looks her over. “How old are you?” “Fifteen.” “You look younger.” She squirms a little. “Just small, I guess.” He looks past her shoulder, letting out a whistle too loud for the room. “Hey, Hank!” Behind her, Maggie sees a man tilt his head but not his body, eyes fixed on a fight between two boys  of about 17. She’s never seen someone command so much space by doing nothing at all, arms crossed tight over his chest, standing tall like a tree that doesn’t bend. “Yeah?” “Your girl’s 15, right?” That has his attention, and as soon as his eyes find Maggie, he’s coming her way. “You here to train?” “Yeah,” she replies. “You have other girls here?” “Your age? Just the one.” He extends a hand, and it engulfs hers. “Hank Henshaw.” “Maggie Rodas.” It’s hard to tell what to make of his smile – tight, but warm, strictly polite but reserved like he’s trying to figure her out. “I’ve been training Alex for a couple months, but all the boys here are too big or young for her to spar with. She could use a partner, if you’re up for it.” “Yeah, sure,” Maggie lets out, and it’s all moving faster than she expected, but in the corner of her eye, there’s a flash of reddish-brown hair coming from the water station. A girl in running shorts and a tank top, a little tall for her age, is setting her bottle on a windowsill, shaking herself out in front of a mirror before lifting her fists to fight herself, shadowboxing with the flow of someone who breathes like water, and instantly, Maggie knows she’s seen her before. She looks different on land. Harder. Tired, but pushing, like she’s running from her own shadow, scrambling to exorcise something from under her own skin, and again Maggie feels the sensation that she’s not supposed to be watching her,  yet the grace of her movement is hard to pull away from. “Danvers,” Hank calls out, and the girl’s tugged from her battle, her pale skin gently flushed as she jogs over. “This is Maggie Rodas. She’s joining the gym.” “I’m down to train with you, if you want,” Maggie tells her. “Hank said you need a partner.” The girl nods, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “Yeah. I’m hoping to start sparring in local club comps by in the next couple months. How long have you been boxing?” “Well, technically I’ve never boxed…” “Great,” the girl mutters, not trying to hide that she’s unimpressed, and Maggie feels a competitive edge twist in her gut. “But I can fight.” “Oh can you?” she scoffs, raising her eyebrows. Maggie tilts her head, smirking a little. “Life experience.” It seems like Alex doesn’t know how to take that. Maggie watches her glance at Hank, who nods almost imperceptibly. The girl’s shoulders lose some of their tension. “Look, I grew up watching matches on TV with my dad,” Maggie continues. “I know what makes a good fighter. It’s just that my parents wouldn’t let me learn, so I never got taught.” “What, and they just changed their minds?” They changed their minds about a lot of things, she thinks to herself, swallowing hard, and beside her Hank shifts slightly on his feet. “Something like that,” she says. Hank tilts his head to face Alex. “I know she’s a little small for you -” “A little,” the girl teases lightly, making Maggie scoff and shake her head. “But if you plan to keep up your training diet it may not matter so much.” “Hey, I don’t mind putting on a little weight,” Maggie teases back, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I’m new in town, Danvers – know any good burger places?” The glare the girl shoots her is hard as a punch, and Maggie almost laughs out loud. “The point is,” Hank interrupts, “Alex, this would be good for your training. It’s about time you fought someone closer to who you’ll be up against.” Almost mirroring Hank’s posture, the girl stands and breathes for a moment before lifting her eyes to Maggie’s. “I prefer to train alone. And hard. Think you can keep up?” “Played soccer for six years. Bet I could beat you in shuttle runs.” The corner of Alex’s mouth cocks up a little. “That a challenge?” “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?” Maggie quips, already walking past her to the doors.
They pound the alley pavement like they want to see it bleed. Alex’s legs are longer, but she’s pushing harder than she’s had to in a while, running back and forth between dumpsters until her heart pumps acid, stomach clenched tight as a fist. She’ll give it to her – this girl is fast – and when Alex sees her flick her head back, dimples flashing as she smiles, she knows the game is up. “Fine,” she pants, slowing to a jog. “What was that?” the girl coaxes, a breathless laugh escaping her as she steadies. “We can train together.” “Knew you’d come around, Danvers.” Alex watches her tie up her hair in one swift movement, wiping the light sheen of sweat shining over her throat. The sun suddenly seems excessively hot. The girl seems to notice the gaze, her flick of a glance sending a gentle flush over Alex’s skin with an expression that is half question, half answer. “Thursday?” Alex swallows, nods. “Thursday.” The girl smiles at the ground and shakes her head a little, and Alex instantly gets the sense that she never had a chance. “I should get back to Hank.” “Sure.” “I’ll see you,” she mutters, lifting a hand to shield her face from the sun as she heads back in. “Oh Danvers?” “Yeah?” “That running got me all sweaty. Think I might go get some ice cream.” “Yeah you do that, Rodas.” “Or maybe a milkshake…” “Asshole.” The girl lets out a full laugh, still watching Alex as she begins to walk backwards down the alley before she turns away. “See you round, Danvers.” Alex watches her jog all the way to the corner and disappear, but she doesn’t know why.
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far : )
Spanish translations (apologies for any mistakes):
Lo siento, no tengo mucho dinero - I'm sorry, I don't have much money No hay necesidad - There's no need Vivo con mi Tia. Eso esta bien? - I live with my aunt. Is that OK?
24 notes · View notes
willowmcplier · 4 years
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☥ Introduction - Coal ☥
Hey look, a character backstory! So this is the backstory to my character Coal Upir. Note that this contains spoilers for my Blood and Water story over on Touyhou.se
Enjoy!
.
Coal pulled his coat tighter around him as he trudged through the heavy snow covering the streets. Lamplight flickered in the darkness, casting eerie shadows on the ground. The winter sun was nearly set, even though it was only 5:00, and the boy wished it was still high, to perhaps melt some of this frigid snow.
Coal shivered and turned into an alleyway. He could cut through here, and cut a good ten minutes off his trip home. His mother was busy caring for his ill sister, and so he was made to take the long walk home from the schoolhouse.
Crouching slightly, the dark-haired pre-teen jumped to pull himself over the short wall, struggling to get a grip with the layer of snow atop and his fleece mittens slipping away with the moisture. He finally managed to clamber up, dropping to the ground on the other side, the cotton rain cushioning his fall. Just another few of these half-walls, and he’d be nearly there.
He mounted the next barricade and froze. There was a man in this alley, on all fours, hunched over something. Over a cat, fur matted and slick with snow, and the ground around it splattered with red. Coal dared not move, didn’t think he would be able to move even if he wanted, frozen in shock at the sight. A soft gasp escaped his lips in spite of himself.
The man’s head whipped towards him at the slight sound, red eyes staring right at Coal, bits of crimson trailing from lips. The two were still for what seemed like hours, the boy crouched atop a short wall, the man hunched over in the snow.
Then the man stood and moved, impossibly fast, darting towards him, and Coal fell backwards in shock, tumbling into the snow behind him. The man was atop the wall then, staring down at him from a few feet up, and Coal scrambled backwards, slipping and grabbing at handfuls of slush, trying to catch his footing. In too little time the man was atop him, a fist holding the front of his jacket, pushing him into the ground, the other hand pulling at his scarf.
Coal opened his mouth to scream but the hand was instantly at his throat, turning his face into the snow to muffle his cries. He kicked and flailed, but the man was strong, pinned him down, and he was only a child.
He felt breath against his neck, saw the man’s face right next to his own, blood-dappled lips inches away from him. He saw a glint of something and then-
The man’s face was buried in his neck, teeth biting into his skin. Coal cried out in shock and pain, but was quieted almost immediately. The man sucked at his skin, at the blood stemming from the wound, and bit harder, changing it from a trickle to a steady flow.
His body felt numb, and all he could do was lay helplessly in the snow as the man lapped at his blood.
When the man finally pulled away, it felt like hours had passed. The man stood, licking his lips, sneered, then turned to leave.
Coal tried to sit up, tried to move, but his body wouldn’t listen. Everything felt heavy, the snow beginning to seep into his clothes, his blood staining the white around him. He felt scared, and helpless, and tired. So, so tired.
Soft footsteps crunched in the snow nearby, lighter than those of the first man. Someone new.
The stranger knelt beside him, turning Coal over onto his back. Coal managed to crack open his eyes to see him, new stranger, leaning over him with concern on his face. His hand went to the boy’s neck, and he cursed.
The first man said something dismissive, and the new stranger shouted back at him angrily. The two went back and forth for a while before the first man finally left, huffing.
Flakes lazily drifted down from the sky, like millions and millions of stars falling around him. The crisp December air bit at his skin, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. It was so… peaceful.
He closed his eyes.
The brown-haired stranger tugged at his own glove and bit his wrist with a wince, tearing skin and letting a small bubble of blood form. He brought his wrist to Coal’s face and let his blood drip into his mouth.
Coal gagged, his body instantly rejecting the stranger’s blood as he coughed and retched. He felt like he would vomit, almost wished he would, as the vile liquid slid down his throat. Coal curled into himself, his body one fire, the stranger rubbing his back (for what reason, he could not discern). The cold snow nipped at his skin, his skin itself burning fiercely, and his body sluggish from blood loss.
Exhausted, Coal exhaled deeply and gave in to the darkness.
Heavy blankets, and the scent of wet flora.
Coal’s eyes fluttered open. He lay on a strange bed in a strange room, a strange man steeping leaves over a hotplate. Coal sat up, and the man’s ears pricked a bit, and he turned around.
“You’re awake.”
Coal’s memory was foggy, and it took a moment to recognize the person before him. The brown-haired stranger, from the alley. The second one.
“Who…”
“My name is Alex,” the man said, taking a mug and filling it with the hot tea. “Are you… are you feeling okay?”
“I…” Coal shook his head, a hand to his forehead, trying to shake the blur away. His body felt strange, like he wasn’t quite inside it properly. His eyes hurt from the brightness of the overhead light, and everything sounded wrong, just a bit too loud. “W-where…”
“This is my home. I uh, found you out there and… you didn’t look so well, to say the least.” The stranger - Alex, brought over the mug and a chair, setting the mug down beside the boy and sitting himself in the seat. “It’s a good thing I found you when I did. Any later and… well, the frost isn’t known to be merciful to fingers.”
“There was… someone was there…” Coal murmured, trying to recall the details, or anything at all really. “He… he had a cat… a dead cat.”
“Take it easy, bud.” Alex gripped Coal’s shoulder reassuringly. Coal flinched away at first, but then relaxed, realizing it was in good faith. “You probably saw a lot of things, but you were pretty frozen. Most of what you saw could have been your mind making things up.”
“No, that’s not… that’s not…” Coal’s fingers trailed down his neck and stopped short when they brushed against a bandage. Digging his nails under it, he peeled it off and felt at the area to find two small puncture wounds in his neck. “He… he bit me…”
Alex’s brows narrowed a bit. “... I saw. It was some… some crazy hobo. I managed to scare him off, but he…” Alex paused for a moment, as if unsure of what to say. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
Coal shifted and took the mug of tea, sipping it. His throat was raw and dry, and he was grateful for the hot liquid to soothe his intense thirst.
“I… I know you don’t know me, but… you’re not well. I-if you’re okay with it, I’d rather you stay here for a few days, then I can take you home.”
Coal choked slightly at that, coughing a bit. “I… I wanna go home.”
Alex shook his head sadly. “You need to wait. We need little time to let things die down, hopefully that creep will have moved on by then.”
Coal put down the mug, though his throat begged him not to. “I… I don’t know you. I guess thank you for helping me, but I… you’re a stranger, and…”
Alex nodded. “I understand completely. And usually I’d be all for that. But right now, the storm of the century is going on outside. Even if I wanted to take you home now, it wouldn’t be a good idea, or even a safe idea, to do so. So while ‘Stranger Danger’ is very real, the blizzard out there is currently the more dangerous option of the two.” Alex thought for a bit. “If you want, I don’t even have to be in the room with you. I can get you my SNES and you can stay in here all day. But I really don’t think it’s safe to go outside, not to mention that you’re sick.”
Coal put the back of his hand to his forehead and only then realized that he was burning up. Staying outside in the cold for so long must have gotten him a cold.
“Storm should be gone by Wednesday night. That’s only three days. I know it might not mean much, but I’ll swear on whatever you want that I won’t hurt you or make you stay past then.”
Coal stared off into nowhere for a few seconds, then finally dipped his head. “If it’s really the only way…” he said begrudgingly, taking the tea again and savoring the hot liquid against his throat.
“I’m really sorry, kid, but yeah, it is.” Alex said with a sigh, then stood up. “I’ll be right back with that SNES I promised. Call if you need anything, alright?”
Then the young man left, and Coal was alone in an unfamiliar place, with a wrong-fitting body.
To be fair, Alex made well on his promise. Coal barely saw him at all, except to bring in soup or tea, or when his fever rose so high he was delirious. Though Coal barely knew this man, Alex was nothing but kind to him. His body still felt wrong, and everything was still too bright and too loud and too everything, but he wasn’t miserable here, and that was something at least.
The time came when Alex knocked lightly on the doorframe, startling Coal a bit as he put down the controller that Alex had provided to help him pass the hours. “It’s time. Storm’s over.”
Coal blinked, and a smile grew quickly across his face. He jumped up from the bed, stumbled a bit, and graciously took the jacket Alex held out for him. There was a look of remorse on the older man’s face, but the boy could not tell why.
Then Coal was snug in his winter clothes and the two headed outside, through a long tunnel, and took the walk home.
Coal knocked emphatically on the door, and it opened mere moments later, and Coal was swept up into the arms of his mother, crying tears of joy to see her son, hugging him tight so as to never let him go again. Alex stood on the front steps quietly, a soft smile on his face at the reunion.
The noise quickly brought Coal’s father as well, and the three of them laughed and sobbed and father scolded him for staying away so long, but mother said all that mattered was that he was back, her son had been returned to her.
It was a long while before the parents’ attention turned to the stranger at the door. Then Alex was flooded with thanks and questions and even more gratitude.
“Little guy got a bit lost in the snow, and took a tumble,” Alex explained when questioned. “I found him, but it was too heavy a storm to bring him home at that point, so I had him stay with me ‘til it died down.”
Both parents hounded the younger man with questions; was their son treated well? Was he made safe and his injuries - if any - were properly taken care of? Alex responded yes, and while they were skeptical, Coal confirmed it all, Alex had been nothing but kind.
When it had finally been decided that the young man was trustworthy, Coal’s mother quickly said “Come in! You must stay for dinner, it’s the least we can do!”
Alex winced slightly at that. “Thank you very much for the offer, but I’ll have to decline.” When pressured, he continued. “I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on, so I’m afraid I need to be heading off now.”
While both of the parents wished to thank him more, they did eventually allow him to depart. Alex knelt down to Coal, gripped his shoulder, and said “Be careful from now on, ‘kay, bud?”
Coal was confused by the seriousness in his eyes, but before he could ask, the young man had already turned and was gone.
Coal’s fever returned rapidly after that day, and both mother and father declared him on bedrest for further notice. One of them was always in the room with him, not wanting to leave their son’s side for a second, but even as he took the foul-tasting medicine, his fever climbed higher and higher. Christmas was nearly upon them, and they prayed daily for their son the be cured of his illness, that he might celebrate the day of the lord to the fullest.
Coal woke suddenly one night, on the eve of. He was so hot, and so cold, and he needed to drink desperately. He stumbled his way through the dark to the bathroom turning on the sink and drinking directly from the faucet. But it didn’t help. His thirst only grew more.
He heard the faintest of sounds behind him and turned to see his younger sister peeking at him through the doorway. Her eyes were worried and wide, trying to find him in the dark. “Coal? Are you okay?”
He could see her perfectly, even in the darkness. The way each strand of hair fell in front of her face. The sound of her heart beating. The way her throat moved as she spoke each word.
He moved without thinking. He was on her suddenly, shoving her to the ground and holding her there, eyes fixated on the crook of her neck. She cried out in shock, then pain, and he dug his nails into her skin, trying to break through. He could barely contain himself. He was so thirsty. She could help him. She could help him. His nails broke skin, and he finally brought his mouth forward to drink.
Something hit him in the back of the head, and he stopped, dazed, as his sister slipped out from under him, screaming. His father was behind him, shouting at him, but he couldn’t make out the words. She was getting away. He couldn’t let her get away.
Coal lunged at her and his father only barely managed to catch him by the back of the shirt, raising him in the air. Coal wailed, flailing, trying desperately to escape his father’s grasp, to get to her, he could smell the blood trickling from the wound. His father turned him towards him, looked into his eyes, and gasped.
His mother came running down the hall, confused, and his father said something quietly that made her jaw drop. Coal still struggled in his father’s hold, frantically trying to reach his sister, hiding behind their mother. She could save him. He needed her so desperately, why were they holding him back? Why were they doing this!?
His mother took a cross off the wall and pressed it into Coal’s forehead, and instantly his skin burned like fire. He screamed, trying to move away, to get away from this thing. His father took the moment to get a better grip on him, pinning the boy against his chest, and, taking the cross in his own hands, started to move downstairs, and outside, and to the car. The whole time Coal was screeching and crying and squirming, anything to get away from the horrible burning against his skull.
His mother was in the driver’s seat, his father holding him down in the back, the cross still firmly pressed against his skin, and Coal was in more pain than he had ever felt before. He was let up for only a moment, and he tried desperately to crawl away, but his father grabbed him quickly again and dragged him out into the parking lot, towards the church doors. There was a pastor waiting for them, leading them away from the main building, where people were gathered to pray for the lord, into the graveyard nearby. Coal was forced onto one of the stone benches, his father holding him down, the cross laying on his chest. He could vaguely make out his father asking the pastor about demons, if he could expel the evil that had found home in his son. Coal screamed, pleaded with them to stop, but his cries were drowned out by the psalms of the worshippers in the church.
The pastor placed yet another cross upon his body, this body that wasn’t quite his, and his cries grew tenfold. Couldn’t they see they were hurting him? Why were they doing this!? The pastor lay a cloth over Coal’s eyes, and began to chant. The words hit him like a train, and in that moment, Coal knew for sure that he was going to die. The pain was overwhelming, and his cries faded from scream to soft sobbing. He was going to die. He was dying.
The chanting stopped suddenly with a thud, and his father was ripped from his chest. His mother screamed, and Coal suddenly felt arms around him, holding him tight to their chest, knocking away the crosses and holy water and the pastor. He wept, relieved beyond relief that it was over, he was safe, but his body still ached and burned and felt wrong, the wind whipping around them as his savior ran.
The cloth fell from his eyes, and he saw a familiar figure. “A-Alex?”
Alex glanced down at him for a moment, sadness in his eyes. He said nothing, only pulled the boy tighter to his chest and ran, the buildings passing by impossibly fast, almost a blur behind them.
Coal took handfuls of Alex’s shirt in his fists, nearly delirious with pain, and exhausted beyond comprehension. His eyes closed.
It burned.
Coal sat up with a start, instantly regretting it as he cried out in pain, his body searing at the movement. Alex was beside him, a bag of ice in hand, pressing it gently against Coal’s chest as he woke.
Coal felt an instant relief where the cool touched his burning skin, gripping the cold pack tightly, shaking as tears of pain ran down his face. Alex took another ice pack and pressed it to Coal’s forehead, and the boy leaned in to the pack, relishing in the near euphoric relief it brought him. Everything was wrong, everything was hot and wrong and didn’t fit right, but the cold made him forget, just for a bit.
Alex brought a glass to his face and he drank without thinking. The rawness in his throat that had been there for days vanished, it was like honey and strawberries and everything good in the world. Coal couldn’t even discern the flavor from the instant relief it brought. He could finally, finally drink, and he trembled with satisfaction.
It was gone all too quickly, and Coal whimpered slightly in spite of himself. He needed it, he didn’t even know what it was, but his entire body craved it, it was his only reason for living.
Alex pulled away, and the burn in his skin was gone, not entirely, but manageable now. With the pain went the blur of his senses, and he finally was able to understand what Alex had been saying this entire time.
“It’s okay, bud, deep breaths. It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine.”
Coal took a deep breath, swallowed, and looked towards him. Alex sighed, relieved, then took from behind him another glass.
Coal was instantly fixated on it, and when Alex brought it towards him he snatched it away, gulping it down. Alex sighed again, gathering the cold packs and setting them aside.
When he was done, Coal let out a soft and content sigh, swallowing the last traces of the faintly metallic drink. The burn in his skin was all but gone now, and while his body still felt wrong, at the same time he felt better than he had in years.
“I suppose… you must have a lot of questions.” Alex finally said.
Coal looked up and was about to speak before the memory of it hit him like a truck. “My… they…”
Alex nodded sadly, and tears pricked at Coal’s eyes. “... why?”
Alex moved to sit on the bed and brought the boy close, pulling him into a hug. “They didn’t understand. They never understand. You weren’t trying to hurt them, but they just don’t get it.”
Coal wept softly in Alex’s arms, sadness and confusion and guilt swirling around inside him. “They-... they w-were gonna kill me…”
“They didn’t understand. They thought that what they were doing would help you. But it’s not- it’s not that simple. It’s not something you can pray away.”
“I know - I know you didn’t ask for this, but… when I saw you there, in the cold, I just… I couldn’t just let you die. And I…”
Coal sniffed and looked up, confused.
“...You’re not like them anymore, kid. We’re not like them anymore.”
“then… what are we?”
Alex sighed again and looked straight into Coal’s midnight-blue eyes. “We’re not human anymore, kid. We’re vampires.”
Coal’s eyes squinted in confusion. “B-but that’s…”
“I used to think so too.” Alex loosened his grip, then pulled at his sleeve to reveal an old scar. Two pinpricks, black lines radiating across the skin from the old wound.
“I knew that… if I turned you, then… you would live. I’d be able to get you back somewhere safe, and… maybe you could even go be with your family again. Maybe they’d understand.” Alex shook his head. “It was stupid to think that. But at least… at least you’re alive.”
Coal stared down at his hands, his pale skin and the body that wasn’t quite his. He could see everything in perfect detail, the smallest pores on his skin, and the subtlest movements of his hairs.
“If… if you want, you can stay with me. I can protect you from them, and… I can feed you.”
Coal’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “I don’t - I don’t want to hurt anybody!” He shuddered at the idea of attacking someone like that man had done to him in the alleyway - like he had nearly done to his sister. “I can’t hurt anybody!”
Alex gripped his hand. “You don’t have to. There… there is a way. I can give you my own blood, or animal blood. You won’t ever have to hurt anyone.”
Coal’s eyes closed again. “I… I hate this. I want everything to be normal. I want…” Tears sprung up again. “I miss them.”
Alex pulled him in once more, enveloping Coal in his warmth as the boy cried. “I do too, kid,” he said, mournfully. “I do too.”
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pjbehindthesun · 7 years
Text
chapter 1: bears, bourbon, and the boyfriend
Sat, June 9th, 1990
I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn my car off the highway and onto the quiet back road that leads to my favorite hiking trail up in the Northern Cascades. A good hour left on the drive still, but at least this is the peaceful part. Not much relaxes me more than watching civilization recede into the rearview mirror. It’s like dying a little death, seeing the sights and sounds of human disturbance get fewer and farther between, like a heartbeat slowing to a stop on a monitor, until I’m the only person left, with only the wilderness providing background noise like a flatline.
I can’t help but imagine Alex in the passenger seat. Here’s the point in the conversation where he would grumble something about my morbid, misanthropic tendencies, if he were here. Of course, he isn’t here… hiking isn’t really his thing. For what felt like the millionth time, he’d agreed to come along and then bailed on my way out the door. On my way out of town, I’d called him from the lab, where I had a few loose ends from the week to tie up, to try and cajole him one last time. It didn’t go well.
“Are you sure? I can come back and get you, I’m almost done here, I could just swing back home and –”
“– nah, that’s okay, just go.”
“I was just really looking forward to this, Alex.”
“You’ll still have fun! You’ll have more fun out there without me, honestly, you know I hate it.”
“It’s just, I have my trip coming up soon…”
“Right…”
“…and I was just hoping we could spend some time together –”
“– but that’s my fucking point! WHY can’t we do that here?!”
“Hey, don’t you fucking shout at me.”
“Why do I have to drive out to the middle of nowhere and trudge up a fucking hill to spend time with my girlfriend? What the fuck’s wrong with our apartment?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, but don’t you get bored?”
“Do you? … do you?”
“I mean… not of you, but… Jesus, I just wanted to spend some quality time –”
“– yeah and it only counts if it’s your fucking idea of quality time, not mine.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Just go on your fucking Bataan Death March, I’ll see you tonight.”
He hadn’t slammed the receiver down, but I had still flinched at the click. My idea of quality time, not his. That much was true. His idea of a quality weekend is unplugging the phone from the wall and playing video games around the clock. It’s how he has always wanted to unwind, and I spent countless weekends in college curled up next to him on the little bed in his dorm room with my homework (and the occasional joint out the window) instead of my boyfriend. Since we moved to Seattle after graduation last summer, the room has changed and so have the games – a little less Super Mario, a little more Castlevania – but the rest of the scene has stayed pretty static.
Static. It never bothered me before. For four years, that was my norm. Getting stoned and fucking around in the dorm room felt like what we were supposed to do in college. And I have no objections to getting stoned and fucking around as a theoretical adult, but this particular pastime is wearing thin. Do I even need to be present for his version of quality time?
I’m being a little unfair. I mean, he always turns his attention back to me eventually, and it’s not like I need to be the center of his existence… he’s such a good guy, really. I just wish it wasn’t this difficult to get him to meet me halfway. I can probably count on both hands the number of times I’ve prevailed on him to come camping or hiking with me over our five years together. Maybe even one hand, come to think of it. It just sucks. I love him, and I want so much for him to share in some of the things that make me happy. But I’ve never met anyone more at war with nature than him. I can’t get him to see the beauty of it with me.
I scowl and lean on the gas. The Rabbit does its honest best to keep up, but not without the same precarious wobble it always has at speeds above 60. Bless its heart.
Right before the end of the paved road, I turn into the gravel lot marking the trail head. How long has the car been quiet? Small Change must have run its course in the tape deck a while ago, so there goes my brooding soundtrack. The Rabbit bounces its way over the uneven ground and comes to a halt under the tree I usually park beneath. My jaw clenches at the sight of another car. Shit, please tell me the tourists aren’t coming out here now. I’ve been to this trail a lot over the last year and have never seen anyone else. This, of course, being the basis of its appeal.
I roll up the window and hop out, gathering a wind-tangled mass of hair up into a topknot and pulling on my day pack. I take a deep breath, leave Alex’s ghost in the car, and set off down the dark, dense trail. There have been times over the last year that I’ve missed the mountains back east, all ancient and sleepy and soft, but the comically overgrown plant life and violent skylines of the Pacific Northwest are hard to argue with.
I slowly wind my way up through the forest, gladly losing myself on the walk. Soon, I hit the series of switchbacks that signals the approach of the lookout at the top of the mountain. This is my favorite part of the trail. The trees open up to the left and there’s a partial view of the valley. Down the slope from my spot on the trail, there’s a cluster of burned stumps of giant old trees, the scars of a long-ago forest fire that haven’t yet been overwritten by new growth.
This is just one of those stupid fights every couple has. We’ll fix it when I get home. We always have.
Once I hit the start of the rocky cliff that holds the mountain views I came for, I set down my pack and kneel on the trail to rummage around for my beat-up stainless steel flask of bourbon. No sooner than I lay my hands on it, though, do I spot a tendril of smoke winding up from behind a large rock about twenty feet ahead. Shit, a rocky outcrop is possibly the worst place I could have picked to die in a forest fire – except that isn’t wood smoke I’m smelling.
Furious, I edge around the rock to find a lanky, dark-haired guy stretched out on the ground next to his pack, enjoying the views… and a joint.
“Hey, asshole! You mind not burning the whole place down?”
Well, if we both die out here in an inferno, at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I gave the bastard a heart attack first. The guy jumps to his feet and turns to face his attacker, looking very much like a deer in headlights. A very tall deer. I glare daggers up at him.
“What?? Oh…” he chuckles. “no no, girl, I got a system, see?”
I deepen my scowl, not least for being reduced to “girl” as I’m trying to prevent him from destroying my fucking forest. He holds up a small water bottle clouded with ash and makes a big show of carefully dropping the roach in to extinguish it. Then he sets the bottle down, straightens up to his full height, and raises his hand in a Boy Scout salute with mock sincerity on his face.
“Safety first, I always say.” A devilish smirk starts to crack the mask. “Sorry, Smokey Bear, I wish I knew you were coming, I’d have saved you a hit!” He drops his salute and ruffles up his long, unruly mop of black curls, grinning openly at last.
I roll my eyes in aggravation, but if I’m being honest with myself, it takes some willpower not to smile. Irresponsible, maybe, but this guy is also a walking master class in roguish charm. His barely-there pencil mustache lends him a demonic air, like some kind of love child between Errol Flynn and a 19th-century occultist, and the black wardrobe and giant boots don’t do much to dispel the impression. At nearly a foot taller than me, his height is imposing, but his blue eyes are friendly and encouraging. Too bad I’m not having any of it.
“Oh, how considerate of you. I’m sure the weed would really have taken the edge off of my flesh melting off in a fucking wildfire,” I mutter as I scan the ground around his smoking spot for uncontained ashes. There aren’t any. But still. Doesn’t anyone else give a shit? Why are people so irresponsible? This is why I usually avoid them, as a general rule. When I look up, Smoker Guy’s smile has faded into a sheepish wince.
“Ok, ok, you’re right. I was trying to be careful, but yeah, that was an idiotic thing to do. I’m sorry. I don’t even really smoke, ever, I just… I don’t know, I needed to get out of my own head for a bit.” The roguishnes is gone, replaced by a vulnerability so intense and sudden it knocks me back on my heels. He actually seems sincere enough that I feel a tiny bit of pity and embarrassment at having been so colossally rude.
“Ugh. You don’t have to apologize to me,” I hedge, “just… don’t be an asshole out here again.” I offer what I can manage by way of a smile, and his face splits into another wide, warm grin.
“I mean, no promises about being an asshole, but I can swear I won’t burn it down. It’s too beautiful out here!” His voice shakes a couple of birds loose from the tree above our heads.
“It really is,” I muse, scanning the horizon and settling back into some semblance of calm. Smoker Guy senses the opportunity.
“And what did you bring to share with the class, Smokey Bear?” He gestures toward my side with that grin still plastered to his face, and I realize I’m still clutching my flask.
“Bourbon, but, uh… I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else… let alone a class…” I suddenly remember my annoyance at finding any other human, even a charming one, out here in my sanctuary. If it wasn’t going to be Alex, I’m not excited about sharing it with anyone, especially if I’m out here brooding about Alex. I fold my arms, tucking the flask behind my elbow, and fix him with a scowl.
“So, uh, do you come here often?” Oh for fuck’s sake. “No, I didn’t mean it like that…”
Too late. He booms with laughter. “Well now you have to buy me a drink!” He bounds over, snatching the flask out of my hand and dangling it over my head.
The embarrassment’s gotten to me and I can’t help laughing a little now. “Sure, knock yourself out… what’s your name?”
“Chris,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and passing the flask back.  “And no, this is my first time coming up here. What’s your name? I can’t just keep calling you Smokey…”
“Cora,” I frown. As I take a drink, I dig through my memory for whatever it was about his name that sparked in the back of my mind. “Chris… do I know you from somewhere? You from Seattle?”
“Yeah, I’m from Seattle, you’ve maybe seen me around…” before waiting, utterly unhelpfully, for me to place him, attempting to keep a straight face and failing miserably.
“Hang on, you’re not…” his grin widens. “Chris, like Soundgarden Chris?”
“Soundgarden Chris,” he shakes my hand a little too vigorously, almost knocking me off balance. “Chris Cornell. You know the band?”
“Yeah, I saw you guys at the Moore a few months back, February I want to say?” he nods. “You’re really good.” I’d even picked up a tape at the merch table that night.
“Usually the hair is the giveaway.” He gives his curls a shake for emphasis.
“Maybe to the more typically statured, sure. I have a hard time actually seeing a band on stage from down here.” I rock onto the tiptoes of my hiking boots.
“Fair enough. Bet people recognize you by your hair a lot, too…” he muses, making to tuck an escaped lock of it behind my ear, but I swat his hand away and shoot him a dirty look.
“Hey man, you don’t want to piss off a bear, do you?” I brush the hair off my forehead myself and sit down on one of the rocks with the best view of the valley. Chris follows and sits down next to me.
“No, not even a tiny little bear like you. But seriously, that’s a great color. Is it –”
“Yes, it’s my natural hair color…” I mutter, wary of what almost always comes next. 
“Sorry,” he grins, “just don’t spot too many natural redheads in the wild. You’re like an endangered species.”
“Okay asshole if you think I haven’t heard this fucking line before –”
“W-what line?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Endangered redheads, gotta fuck to save the species. You’re hilarious.”
I look away as I spit the words out before fixing him with a toxic glare, expecting to see him wearing the usual smartass smirk that usually accompanies such obnoxious pickup lines. Instead, his face is frozen in the perfect mix of horror and amusement.
“You… you really weren’t using a line, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t,” he says in wide-eyed bewilderment, “I promise, I was not offering to procreate with you. I mean I can, if you want, but…” the demonic smile creeps back onto his face.
I wrinkle my nose with a grin and shake my head, handing him the flask back. I’ve misjudged the poor thing a couple of times now, maybe it’s time to let up.  
“Sorry. You just wouldn’t believe…”
“Oh, I bet I would. People are animals. I’d sure as shit hate to put up with a quarter of what women have to listen to,“ he says, nodding somberly over his swig of bourbon, and I feel a surge of affection for him that is mixed with guilt for being so judgmental. We sit quietly for a while, drinking and enjoying the view, before he breaks the silence.
“So what do you do for a living, when you’re not laying waste to suitors or educating the public about the dangers of forest fires?”
“I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Well, I’m not sure if I’d say it’s ‘for a living,’ but I guess if I’m talking to a musician, you know what that’s like. I’m a PhD student down at UW. And I just took a job waiting tables at the Cyclops in the meantime, because science isn’t exactly the best get rich quick scheme.”
Chris raises his eyebrows mid-drink, clearly curious. “Wow. PhD. Egghead, huh? I like it. What are you studying? Please tell me it’s forest fires. Or bears.” He nudges my shoulder with his, almost knocking me off-balance for the second time, and hands me back my flask.
“Hey! No, nothing like that. I am in the forest science department though…”
“I knew it! You really are Smokey Bear.”
“Ugh, no. I’m studying soils.”
“As in dirt?”
“As in dirt.”
“What about it?”
“I want to understand how changing levels of Arctic ice affect carbon storage in permafrost.”
“Come again?”
Aww, the poor thing looks genuinely interested. I take a deep breath and a swig of bourbon, mentally planning my route. The more time I spend in school, the longer and more pedantic my answer to this “what do you do” question seems to get. Maybe one day I’ll wise up and resort to one-word answers, but I have a feeling that won’t work here.
“Okay, well… the whole global warming thing, right?”
“Yeah?”  
I raise my eyebrows, pleasantly surprised by how intently he’s listening. “Ok, so the greenhouse effect… we release carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, which traps heat and warms up the planet?” Chris nods. “So, as it gets warmer, Arctic sea ice is covering less and less land area each summer – see, in the winter the Arctic ice cap is pretty consistent, but we can learn a lot about changes in the climate by measuring how small the ice cap melts down in the summer.”
Chris is still nodding, which either means he’s utterly lost and just humoring me, or he’s actually following. I hate that I’m losing my ability to distinguish between the two.
“Well, as the planet warms up, that melting ice cap exposes progressively more and more bare soil each year -”
“Whoa there Professor, this lecture just got sexy!” He barks a laugh that echoes down the cliff, making me wince sheepishly.
“Ugh, gross. Anyway, the soil’s frozen solid –” Chris struggles to get a grip “– and we don’t know a lot about it because it’s always covered over, but the melting ice gives us the opportunity to study it better. So I’m going up there every summer and drilling holes to collect samples.”
“Wow…” he murmurs, looking genuinely impressed. “You go up there by yourself?”
“Yeah. I went last summer. I’m leaving in a few weeks for another trip.”
“Like, no one goes with you? Your boss or whatever?”
“My advisor? I think he’s a myth. He’s never around. So no, he doesn’t go with me… and what, I’m supposed to need a chaperone?”
“No, not at all, I just… that’s pretty badass, Smokey.”
“Yeah, digging in frozen dirt, it’s a fascinating life.”
“No, really, that’s incredible. People like you are going to save all this –” he gestures out at our view, with snow still visible on the highest peaks “– from the rest of us assholes, I’m sure of it. I’m glad you’re doing what you’re doing.”
I can’t tell whether it’s his sincerity or the bourbon that disarms me and makes me blurt out exactly what’s on my mind. “I’m glad I met you, Chris. Not as glad as I am that you didn’t burn us to death, but still. Normally I hate people, but you’re okay.”
He grins as I pass him the last of the bourbon, which he drains. “Don’t get so effusive, you might strain something. You must really hate people if you literally go to the edge of the earth on purpose every year.”
We sit in silence for a while before Chris makes me jump by shouting, “shit, what time is it?”
“Just about 6:30.”
“Shit,” he says again, “Susan’s going to kill me, I’m going to be late.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Susan? So there’s a Mrs. Cornell? How come she didn’t get invited to your degenerate weed party in the woods?”
He shuffles a boot in the dirt and gives a small chuckle. “Yeah, I’m a newlywed, but she’s not Mrs. She kept her maiden name. Susan’s got no time for stuff like this. She’s a big shot music manager. And anyway, she’s, ah, not the outdoorsy type.”
Although Susan sounds kind of cool and I want to ask him more, the edge in his tone reminds me of this morning’s fight with Alex, so I just stand up in silence to help gather our things and hasten our exit.
We head back down the mountain together, making small talk about school, music, the neighborhood – turns out he and Susan used to live only a few blocks away from where I am now in Lower Queen Anne. I’m surprised at how quickly the time has passed when we arrive back at our cars, but the rapidly fading light confirms it’s gotten late.  
Chris hurriedly grabs a pen and a piece of paper from a notebook sticking out of his bag and jots down his number. “Cora, don’t lose this, I want to hang out again soon,” he urges. “You should come to our show! We’re playing at the Off Ramp on the 23rd, kind of a going-away thing before we head out on tour.”
“Yeah, that’s right before I go on my trip, I think I can make it.” I tuck the paper into my pocket. When I look up, Chris is already jogging toward his car.
“Drive safe!” he yells over his shoulder.
I shake my head as I climb into the Rabbit. It’s definitely not every day that one runs into a local rock legend almost burning down a forest. But at least he helped me forget about Alex for a couple of hours. Alex. I sigh as I turn the engine over and start my trip home to deal with the fallout.
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oncetherelivedaboy · 8 years
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happy to oblige! if you want another, maybe angelica babysitting? (with peggy or not, either babysitting alex because john is a worrywart or alex and john having a night out?)
I’m not sure this is exactly what you want and at one point there is a slight tangent I go on, but here you are. 
Thank you for your request, it was hella fun to write. 
Philip must secretly know of their plan, because Alex swears he’s plotting against them. He’d screamed for the entire night, nothing had calmed him down, not even when Alex had laid him back down, gave him some space for a few minutes. Sometimes they just wanted to be left alone, even as infants, but his cries had pierced to a higher pitch when he’d left the room and he’d scooped the boy back into his arms, wiping away with big blubbery tears from his cheeks.
He eventually settles down once the sun starts to shine through the windows, and he buries himself in the dark material of Alex’s shirt before dozing off. He sighs heavily, going to put him into the crib but the minute he makes an attempt to pull him away from his chest he wakes up again, the screaming beginning again and Alex wants to scream, but he just bounces the boy lightly, and holds him close. When he falls asleep again, Alex doesn’t try to set him down, just climbs back into bed next to John, who will be up in less than an hour to get ready and take Frances to school, and then go to his own classes. He’s taking summer classes again, this year, meaning he’ll be certified in a few months. It’s a Friday, they have a date night planned for later in the evening, even with Philip conspiring against them.
It’s when the uncontrollable tears continue throughout the day that Alex gets worried. He felt warm but Alex wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, he found a thermometer. He had a little fever, likely he was just starting to teeth. Alex had a few of the toys that could be chilled and chewed on in the fridge.  He didn’t seem to want to eat either, as he kept pushing the bottle away, screaming even louder with each new attempt. He hadn’t eaten since around 2 that morning and it was nearly noon now.
“Honey, you have to eat.” Alex would say, trying to bounce him again before retrieving the now slightly chilled toys he’d put up. He calmed a bit when Alex pressed the toy gently between his gums, and he began to suck slowly on the toy. By the time he was finished with his toy the formula would be bad. He placed a few of the nipples for the bottles into the fridge, hoping that would entice him to eat when prompted.
It didn’t help much, he got halfway through the bottle that followed before starting to push it away again. He didn’t nap at his usual time today either. The tears just kept falling as he stuck his little balled up fists into his mouth. He texted Angie to ask if she could pick up some of the teething gel before she came over. He doesn’t expect a reply, and tosses his phone onto the counter, replacing the bottle top with another of the cold ones and Philip takes it again without much hassle. Alex sighs in relief and heads to the living room, dropping onto the couch into the living room with the somewhat calmer Philip.
It’s Peggy who arrives on the scene, armed with a plastic grocery store bag as she bypasses the doorbell to instead pick the lock and find Alex, laying on the couch with Philip on his chest, both of them starting to doze off. She drops the bag next to the couch after quietly closing the door.
“Hey Pegs.”
“You look like shit.” She says as she rips open the box to find the little tube of gel inside.
“I see you’re still not one for introductions.”
“You do the gel, my hands are dirty and I don’t want them grosser with baby mouth slime.”
“He’s asleep right now. I don’t want to wake him up.” Alex says, shifting slightly and Peggy stands up and disappears into the bathroom around the corner. Alex takes a deep breath, watching Philip rise with the movement of his chest, the tiny fists balled around pieces of his shirt. He closes his eyes again. A moment later cold damp hands find their way to Philip, and Alex’s own arms tense around the baby and his eyes fly open, only to find Peggy standing back over him.
“I was going to take him so you could get some proper sleep.” The girl says, and his arms relax as she moves him gently enough not to stir him into consciousness.
“Wake me up if he gets fussy again.” He says, rolling over to face the inside of the couch, glasses still on his face, as sleep overtakes him in moments.
He wakes back up to a set of soft voices and when he turns he finds Angie holding Philip in her arms, holding a bottle up for the infant as he ate contently.
“John’s home.” She says when he turns, though her eyes are still focused on the baby. “He’s upstairs taking a shower, told me to let you sleep, and Frances is with Lafayette in the kitchen.” He nods as he sits up, crossing the room to take over with Philip but Angie pulls away from him.
“Go get ready for your night, Philip will be fine with me.”
“You’re already babysitting tonight…”
“Alex, I can handle him.” She smiles, stretching her pinky down from the bottle to tickle his stomach. “Go get ready, you two haven’t had a night out in months.” He peeks his head into the kitchen only to have Lafayette shoo him away when Frances glances his way.
Dinner is nice, they laugh, and John’s hand holds his across the table. The wine has just a touch of sweetness to it, and the food is marvelous. They opt out of desert, instead deciding to go to a little ice cream shop that boasts 105 different flavors. They taste test as many as they can before settling on a scoop that’s made with coconut milk with pieces of mango mixed into it, and a chile chocolate one. They sit outside, just the slightest bit tipsy from their earlier wine. Around them the city hums with the nightlife, and the warm spring air. Angie had told them not to come back too soon, she could handle Philip and Frances had already taken Peggy upstairs to show her the skirt she’d made the weekend before. John had made dinner for the the three girls while Alex had taken a shower and gotten ready. Alex had changed into a pair of forgiving but still nice pair of jeans. He wasn’t shedding all of the baby weight anytime soon, even with the workouts, he’d likely have to wait until he was back on his hormones to really lose the weight and allow the fat to redistribute itself where it should be. He didn’t really mind the softness of his stomach though and John wasn’t complaining, at least Alex never took the kisses he traced across his skin to be anything less than affectionate.
After dinner they contemplate stopping at a club to go dancing, but when John yawns and drops his head onto Alex’s shoulder as they head that way Alex hails a cab and gives the driver directions back home. John mumbles something in protest of going home so early, but he’s tired. Alex would much rather enjoy lying on the couch at home with John across his chest while a movie played in the background. He isn’t sure when it became that way, he’d never seen himself as someone to be domesticated, to enjoy quiet nights in over parties and clubs but here is. When had turning in at 11:30 become so much more enjoyable.
“Are we old?” Alex asks to no one, but the cabbie laughs.
“Son, you’re going to make me feel old, I started driving cabs when I was 19, and that was almost 40 years ago.”
“I’m sorry…” The man waves a hand
“I used to think I hated it to, wanted to be a businessman, a real big shot.” He laughs to himself. “It was to impress this girl, real pretty thing with the quickest mind I ever saw.” Alex smiles as he brushes a strand of John’s hair out of his face.
“How’d that go?”
“Well, we renewed our vows 5 years ago. You’re not old son, trust me on that.”
He parks in front of their building and Alex quickly pays him, catching sight of his name tag. Benny tips the lidded cap as he climbs out. John manages to follow him without too much trouble.
Inside they find Angie in the living room, Philip asleep against her chest as she watches the cooking channel and Peggy is lying across the couch, an open book over her face. Angie turns when she hears the door open and makes a face.
“It’s not even midnight, since when are you Cinderella.” She sighs, and stands. Keeping a tight hold on the baby. “Frances is up in her room.” At the moment the girl comes bounding  down the stairs, throwing herself into John who lifts her with a bit of difficulty and spins her around, kissing her head.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed Cheri?” Alex asks and she shakes her head.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She says and Alex spies the candy wrappers in the trash.
“Too much sugar?”
“That was Peggy.” John’s eyebrow goes up questioningly.
“Alex honey can you take care of Philip while I tuck her back in.”
“Why does Philip get to stay up at night?”
“Because he’s a baby and trying to enforce a rigid sleep cycle on him now is impossible.” She huffs in John’s arms and he smiles and Alex takes Philip from Angie.
“How about I read you an extra chapter tonight?” She shakes her head.
“I wanna sleep in your bed tonight.”  There’s a pause for a moment, and a mischievous grin forms on her face. “And you read two extra chapters tonight.” John laughs at her trying to be serious. “I’ll read the usual two chapters and you can stay in our room. I’ll fall asleep if we try anymore.”
“Ok!” That wasn’t hard, and he’s glad she didn’t try against because he knows he won’t be able to resist.
Alex walks Peggy and Angie to the door, giving them each a one-armed hug before they leave, and follows John up the stairs, passing him as they stop in Frances’ room to grab her book. He lies Philip in the crib next to the bed, before changing into pajamas and getting ready for bed. When he’s finished washing his face John already has Frances tucked under the covers, setting the book on the nightstand so that he can get ready for bed himself.
By the time John gets into bed Frances is already asleep, still sitting up as she’s propped herself up against the pillows behind her. Frances moves automatically to her father. Alex’s hand rests next to the sleeping Philip, as he does every night. Alex takes another moment in the dark after John flips off the light on the nightstand, after John’s brushed his lips against Alex’s bare shoulder. In the quiet dark, there are only the soft rhythmic sounds of their varied breathing.
“Love you Alex.” John says the sleep evident in his voice, and Alex smiles.
“I love you too.” 
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