#(but no serious question who the fuck has that type of cash laying around and do they uhhh need a sugar baby? 😇😂)

[rosicheeks]

All I want for Christmas is you (to send me $20,000)

[occasionally-writing]

Christmas Shopping Sucks

A/N: It’s early as fuck but due to some issues, I couldn’t sleep. So, why not work on the last ask in my inbox? @vickyawesome​, I really hope you like this. Sorry I couldn’t add the snuggling in front of a fire part, but I did add most of what you wanted into it! I hope you and everyone else who reads this likes it as well <3

Summary: After it gets announced that everyone will be exchanging presents for Christmas, Ming and Kit go out to the mall and search for Christmas gifts to give to their friends. Many things happen and Kit gets semi-scarred by what Forth wants for Christmas. 

Word Count: 2475

“Would you hurry up? We barely got any shopping done and you know how much I hate crowded areas,” Kit grumbled, tapping his index finger on the table him and Ming were currently occupying, the sound of people chattering and children screaming echoing around the filled food court of the mall. Letting out a small huff as he continued to eat, Ming glanced around as he swallowed the last of his food before he gulped down his soda. Watching his boyfriend do this with narrowed eyes, Kit decided not to say anything and just stayed quiet as Ming gathered all their garbage and disappeared in the crowd, weaving around all the people so he could throw their things out. Keeping his eyes on the place Ming had went, Kit felt a seed of worry beginning to appear but the feeling quickly left when he saw his boyfriend coming back towards him, wearing a soft smile on his face when he noticed Kit observing him. “Come on, the faster we get this done the better.”

“Okay, okay. Who should we shop for first?” Ming asked, giving into his boyfriend as they practically got plowed over by a crowd. Reaching out to Kit, Ming intertwined their hands so he wouldn’t lose Kit as he helped them both out of the crowd, making their way towards a less packed area of the mall. Letting out a sigh once they were free from the who mass of people, Kit shot Ming an appreciative look before he squeezed his hand, not exactly wanting to let him go since there was a chance they could get separated again. Letting out a hum as he thought about Ming’s previous question, Kit suggested they hunt for things for Pha and Yo first, since they were a lot easier to get gifts for then Forth and Beam were. “I was just going to suggest that. We should get Yo some more comics to read, you know how much he loves those things... what do you think we should get P’Pha?”

Biting his lip as he thought about it, Kit pulled Ming forward, beginning to walk towards the bookshop inside the mall. He didn’t exactly know what to get Pha just yet, but maybe if they walked to their destination while gazing around, something would pop out to either of them. As they entered the shop to get some of Yo’s favorite comics, Ming hunted them down while Kit strolled along the isles, gazing over all the books and products the little shop held. Pausing when he made his way towards the back of the store, Kit narrowed his eyes when he noticed Ming was looking over something before he must’ve felt eyes on him and turned, nodding Kit over to whatever he was looking at. Stepping towards his boyfriend, Kit blinked when he noticed a pair of matching couple necklaces. It’s true that he and Yo already had matching bracelets but...Moving his gaze up to Ming with one eyebrow raised, Ming knew that he felt the same way and they both sighed, moving away from the display so they could check out with Yo’s Christmas presents. They knew that the necklaces would just be another thing that probably won’t be worn for more than two weeks...or less, so they needed a much more meaningful gift. Cashing out, Ming thanked the kind cashier before they left the shop, intertwining their hands once again as they continued to stroll around. Coming up to a somewhat naughty store, Kit felt his cheeks beginning to grow red as Ming chuckled as a thought occurred to him. 

“Why don’t we get something for Forth and Beam here?” Feeling his eyes widen at the suggestion, Kit smacked the top of Ming’s head lightly, causing his boyfriend to break down in cackles as he noticed the look on Kit’s face. Letting out a sigh as he was laughed out, Kit glanced at the place once more before he pulled Ming away. He knew that he was half kidding but if they did get something for the couple there, both of them would not hear the end of it from Beam. Noticing a small jewelry shop, Ming gestured towards it and tugged Kit towards it. He hoped that nothing was too expensive there but maybe Pha would like something from there. Glancing over all the rings inside the cases, Ming and Kit glanced at each other as they noticed a plain looking silver ring but to Kit, he knew that it was something that Pha would like and the price wasn’t that bad since it was cut down in price for the holiday season. “I think this is perfect, you want to get that while I run to the bathroom real fast?”

“Sure, go ahead. Just come right back though, the last thing we need is to get lost from each other,” Kit ordered, making sure Ming knew that he was seriously. Nodding softly with another chuckle, Ming pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he darted away, nearly dodging the kick that Kit aimed at him as a flush filled his cheeks. Letting out a sigh as Ming disappeared, Kit pointed someone down and asked to buy the ring. Checking out once everything was completed, Kit held the small bag close before he exited the store, glancing around the crowds for his boyfriend since it technically was ten minutes since Ming had left. Letting out a groan when he realized that Ming was probably looking at that...store again, Kit tapped his foot in thought before he begrudgingly made his way back towards the shop that Ming had mentioned earlier. “I swear to all that is holy that if he is in there, he is going to get his ass kicked so hard he won’t be able to sit for weeks.”

Passing crowds with a slight glare on his face, Kit tried not to show how it satisfied him when the people moved away from the heated look he was giving as he neared the naughty store. Stopping in front of it, Kit took a deep breath before he glanced around nervously. Was he really going to go in there just to look for his boyfriend? Rubbing the back of his neck with a huff, Kit already knew the answer so with a groan, he walked in slowly and jumped slightly when a bell went off, signaling that someone entered the shop. Avoiding the eyes of the workers who saw him enter, Kit slowly made his way around the isles, trying not to look at anything too bad until he finally found Ming, who was shamelessly gazing over the many colorful...things on the walls. Noticing Kit in his side vision, Ming swallowed the lump in his throat and gave him an anxious smile. 

“Mingkwan!” Kit growled, making his boyfriend flinch and step away from the colorful toys on the wall. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Ming stared down at the floor as Kit stomped up to him, grabbing his arm as he tried to tug him out of the store. However, not budging an inch as he dug his heels into the tiled floor, Ming stayed as sturdy as he could before Kit finally stopped pulling on his arm, turning around instead to give him a warning glare. Noticing the look on Ming’s face, Kit felt his irritation leave him as he let out a sigh, reaching for Ming’s hand again before he intertwined their fingers. “Ming...are you serious about this? Do you know how much Beam will be on us for getting them something like...these things?”

“I know, P’Kit...but P’Forth asked for something like this…” Ming whispered softly, pulling out his phone with his free hand before he typed in the code, searching for the last message Forth had given him during their many talks. Finding it quite quickly, Ming handed Kit his phone and watched as his boyfriend read the messages, his ears turning red really fast as he realized what Ming said was true. Letting out a disgusted noise, Kit handed him back his phone and tried to wipe what he just read from his mind. He really did not want to read what Forth wanted and he could not believe he would just send something like that to someone. Did any of these engineers have any shame? Rubbing the back of his neck hard, Kit grumbled before he shyly raised his eyes, observing the many colorful toys, finding himself ready to combust as Ming casual reached out and grabbed one. “I feel bad for P’Beam so...let’s find one that’s not too crazy, yeah?”

Letting an embarrassed sound out to show he agreed, even though he didn’t want to, Kit held onto Ming’s hand as his boyfriend continued to look through the toys before he picked out a navy blue toy that looked pretty average and not too crazy like the ones Kit was forced to lay his eyes upon. Happy with the pick, Ming pulled Kit away from the adult toy section and towards the check out. Keeping his hand on Kit’s lower back as they bought the item, Ming held onto the bag for Kit since his boyfriend looked ready to explode if the thing got even closer to him. Leaving the store as quickly as he could, Kit sighed out as he entered the main mall again, waiting for Ming to leave as well. Meeting Kit towards the center of the mall, Ming laced their hands together and pulled Kit close, giving him a concerned look.

“You okay, P’Kit? You look ready to pass out,” Ming asked, pressing the back of his hand to Kit’s forehead. Taking in a deep breath, Kit swatted Ming’s hand away and grumbled something about being fine and that he was just glad they were out of that place. He was never going to be able to unsee what he saw in that place and he would not ever let Forth live this down. Lacing their hands together again, the two looked over the presents they got for their friends before they realized they had to buy something for Beam...that wasn’t Forth’s sex toy. “So...I don’t think you would know what to get P’Beam?”

“...not really. Maybe we can get him and Forth matching shit?” Kit asked, pulling Ming towards a little shop that he noticed that has cute little engraved pieces of metal that can be formed into anything they want. Stepping in, both of them took a deep breath as the scent of scented pine cones greeted them. To Ming, the little shop looked like a craft store and by the way Kit was looking over some of the items, he secretly knew that it was more than finding Beam and Forth a Christmas present. Coming to a halt as they reached a small rack of bare metal necklaces, the two looked over it until Kit gasped, gaining Ming’s attention. Stepping towards his boyfriend, Ming felt his eyes light up as he noticed to matching gear necklaces that could work perfectly for the future engineer and future doctor. “What do you think? Doesn’t the gear mean something to you guys? I bet Forth would love to give an extra to Beam for a present.”

“Yeah, when you give someone a gear when you’re in the engineering faculty, it means you’re giving them your heart,” Ming informed Kit, gently pulling the necklaces off the rack and holding them towards the light, smiling at Kit when they watched the gleam the gears gave off. Handing it to Kit, Ming smiled and pulled him towards the counter, knowing they just found the perfect gift for Beam and partially Forth. After they paid for the items, Ming grinned when he was handed two coupons for a free engraving for both of the necklaces. They could just slip them in the present when it was time to exchange gifts. Leaving the store with their hands swinging between them, Ming continued to grin at Kit while Kit occasionally met his smiles with his own shy ones. “Okay, I think we’re done shopping. Do you want to go home or maybe see a movie?”

Letting out a small hum as he thought about what Ming had said, Kit side stepped a bit closer to his boyfriend and nudged their shoulders together. A movie did not sound all that bad and he knew that there was a theater not far from the mall they were in. Grinning when he noticed the nod he got for his question, Ming gave out a semi loud ‘yay!’ and pulled Kit faster out of the mall entrance, both of them yelping as the cold winter air smacked them in the face as they finally reached Kit’s car. Placing everything safely in the trunk, Kit closed it before he turned to face Ming, narrowing his eyes when he noticed the way Ming’s neck was wide open due to him not zipping up his jacket all the way. Reaching out, Kit fixed it and zipped it all the way up, stepping a bit closer so they were nose to nose. Blinking softly, Ming placed his hands on Kit’s waist and bent down a bit more, meeting Kit’s eyes before they both closed them, pressing their lips together softly. Meeting the kiss head on, Kit breathed through his nose and wrapped his arms around Ming’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Pulling away at the sound of a car rushing past them, Kit kept his forehead pressed against Ming’s as they continued to stare at each other before they both chuckled, pulling away so they could finally get in the car. 

“Even though that place was hell, I still had a good time with you,” Kit muttered, offering a shy smile towards Ming as he started the car. Flashing a bright smile Kit’s way, Ming bumped their shoulders together before he put the car in reverse, backing them out and driving them out of the busy parking lot. Glancing at the time that was lighting up the car slightly, Kit noticed that it was the time where the movies usually started, so they chose the right time to leave the mall. Eyeing Ming again, Kit smiled softly and leaned back, observing his boyfriend a bit more before he turned his eyes to look at the winter wonderland that was outside his car. “A movie sounds great, Ming…”

Smiling softly as he heard the sentence Kit whispered, Ming gave him a small look from the side of his eyes before he turned his attention back on the road, grinning the whole way towards the movie theater, not noticing that Kit had a soft smile resting on his face as he gazed out the window.

[lovelyirony]

Hello friend! I'm in a mood and just feel like reading something sad. Could you pretty please maybe write some sad winteriron? Maybe something to do with terminal illness but it's up to you!

Being human means that there are many things that could happen to you and you can’t help it. 

Like cancer. 

Or being hit by a bus. 

Maybe a heart condition that you didn’t know about until you were thirty-two, had weird chest pains, and then found you didn’t have genetic testing done and neither parent told you about any extensive medical history because they both were estranged from the family. 

Okay. That was specific. 

But Tony was laying in a hospital bed and the doctors told him that he wouldn’t live past forty and he would die of heart failure. 

He feels like he should be hit harder by this. He only has eight years left to live. He shouldn’t be in his kitchen making eggs, he should probably be hysterically calling Rhodey and Pepper and Happy and asking them about funeral arrangements and what he’s going to do and quite possibly if spending the extra money to get the executive suite at the fancy hotel in Switzerland is worth it. 

Except he doesn’t want to. 

Death is a messy process. Not for him, they assured him of that. But everyone asks you questions and your loved ones. You have to figure out where to bury someone if they didn’t do it beforehand. Sometimes you have debates about cremation. Other times about how much you want to spend on a casket. 

He really doesn’t want to look at Rhodey or Pepper or Happy when they talk about that because he knows that their faces will break into tears and he will see the tear tracks when they go home to their houses and cry some more. 

Nonsense. 

If he can hide it, then he will. He doesn’t want to be a bother, it would be...unfortunate. 

Besides. He’s lonely at the top, and there’s no climbing back down the mountain. He won’t pull a Scrooge and get visited by three ghosts. 

So he lives. 

He pulls some risky moves, but nothing that makes Pepper have the “are you up to something serious that could potentially cause my midlife crisis to go off-schedule” talk. 

Again. 

He donates more money to charities and helps people pay off medical bills and walks around New York late at night to wonder why he’s going to die in eight or maybe even seven years instead of the proposed twenty to thirty. (What? He wasn’t going to be too generous, he knew himself.) 

Tony wonders sometimes if he will meet someone and they will make him want to live so much more than he can. It will be like those romantic dramas with rainfall and hair plastered to foreheads and passionate kisses that leave some of the older women teary-eyed and wishing that their husband would do something like that. 

But he’s a genius, so he knows statistics like the back of his hand. 

There will be no one. 

Eight turns into seven. He celebrates by getting absolutely slammed on New Year’s Eve and wakes up to the shittiest radio station blaring. He’s pretty sure they’re playing Maroon 5, which fucking ugh. 

New Year, new resolutions. He doesn’t bother to make one. 

“Why not? You usually make a joke one,” Rhodey says. 

“We are all going to die,” Tony answers. “Why make a resolution if I don’t want to? If I were to die in a year, it wouldn’t really matter.” 

“Okay Lord Byron,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “You want Hot Topic giftcards for your birthday? Huh?” 

Tony laughs. 

Rhodey always knows how to make him laugh. 

Tony doesn’t know how he’s going to make Rhodey laugh when he’s dead. So that’s a breaking point where he stares at the wall and starts to write random memories down, like the time they snuck up onto a hotel’s roof to see the city wake up and the wind chapped their lips and Tony swore that he’d never leave Rhodey. 

Except he is. 

And he realizes that he needs to let Pepper and Rhodey and Happy know that he loves them a lot. So he starts the letters. 

He writes a letter to Pepper to remind her about how much she regrets getting light blue nail polish every single time she gets a manicure, and she should never get it. (Yes, even for a wedding she’s in, get something, anything other than that.) 

He writes a letter to Happy that is basically just wondering about how they can troll asshole celebrities that they know. He doesn’t know, but maybe he will find some dirt so that if Happy ever falls on dire times, he will have some extra cash flow coming in. Not that Tony would let that happen, but say Happy ever did. Maybe someone stole his bank information. Who knows what will happen in seven or six years. 

Summer still sucks. He thinks maybe he’ll like it more, now that he knows that his heart is going to quit. But it still smells like piss and garbage on the streets of New York, people are still blasting shitty music and riding bikes too dangerously, and he still feels gross by two p.m. when he goes outside to face the world. 

Not even the treat of shaved ice helps this. 

“At least I won’t have to face another one in seven years,” Tony murmurs. “Thank god for that.” 

Seven turns into six. 

It’s around this time when an attractive redhead shows up at his office, bends down a bit lower than necessary, and Tony gets the feeling that SHIELD should really train their agents a bit better if they want something out of him. 

He organizes a meeting with Fury, walks in, and states that they cannot afford him. 

“You know that your help would be particularly useful,” Fury says. 

“For you to get what?” He asks. “Don’t bullshit me with some answer about compassion. Peggy Carter was kind, but she wasn’t a damned saint.” 

“There are new...developments.” 

Like the fact that they’ve found Captain America. And Bucky Barnes didn’t fall off into a random ravine, so the four different conspiracy theory documentary videos that Tony watched last year were about five hours of wasted time. 

They need somewhere to stay. Fury wants Tony to foot the bill. 

“What, can’t ask the government for funding?” Tony asks. “I’m sure if they can up the budget for military every year, that covers Cap and his old pal. Hell, I bet they’ll even open up the champagne fridges.” 

“They don’t know about it.” 

“And why would that be? Because you’d rather have idols to yourself?” 

It’s a low-blow. But Tony agrees to take them in. He just doesn’t want to see them, notably because his father was a bit of a Captain America fan, Tony had had a crush on the former sharpshooter when he was a younger guy, and it was all kinds of messed up. 

But he gives them their own little apartment, one of his safehouses. 

“This ain’t little,” Steve mutters to himself, unpacking a box of plates. Natasha has been nice enough to show them around and tell them about the changes she finds relevant. She forced them to listen to what she called ‘the goddess of pop’ in the car, and Bucky nearly clawed out the stereo after “Toxic” came on. 

“Fuckin’ palace,” Bucky mutters. “Who’s is this?” 

“A man in high places,” Natasha answers. “He doesn’t want to be known. Doesn’t exactly play well with others.” 

She leaves them be, and there’s so much that has changed. Steve is still looking for any sign of the past he can find in Bucky, and Bucky...

He’s not who he used to be. He doesn’t remember half the shit that Steve does. Perks of having your brain so fried up that you can barely remember your middle name. 

They eat together in silence. 

“I guess...I guess we have to figure out who we really are,” Steve says. “Because you’re not who I remember, and I’m not...I guess I’m not either.” 

Bucky nods. 

“Do you reckon we’ll like going out dancing?” 

The answer is a strong no, although Steve has to say the drinks have improved a hell of a lot more. He likes the ones that come with the small paper umbrellas. He doesn’t know where they get them, but it gives him an idea for an art project. 

Tony doesn’t hear much about the wonder boys. He doesn’t want to, not really. Natasha just says they’re getting more and more adjusted and she has evidence of Steve Rogers going clubbing. 

“Oh my god,” Tony groans. “Romanoff, do not.” 

“It’s funny.” 

“I don’t wanna know.” 

“What, you jealous that you’re not dancing with him?” 

“Hardly. Blonde and beefy isn’t my type.” 

“Then what is?” 

“Classified.” Tony answered. “Now, is there anything else you want SHIELD to suck out of me?” 

“Well, my manicure funding is getting rather low...” 

Tony snorts, but points towards the door. 

His chest hurts. It’s been happening. He’s actually gotten used to it. In a way, he’s more concerned when it doesn’t hurt. He went to another specialist. They say his death sentence is signed, even if they don’t word it like that. Here’s how it is usually worded: 

“I have a colleague who works at insert-clinic/hospital-here...I can refer you to Dr. So-and-So?” 

They can. But it’s another list of referrals of so-and-so’s and clinics and appointments at the most inopportune times. 

All for nothing, because Tony knows that he can’t be fixed. The human body sometimes works like a machine. But it’s not one. It’d be like Tony calling a dog a wolf. Similar, but no one wants to bring a wolf into their house as a pet. 

He gets a phone call from someone named Deputy Director Hill. 

-

He needs a new arm. 

Barnes needs a new arm. Of course he does. Tony should’ve expected that, of course. Hydra isn’t exactly known for revolutionizing prosthetics or being particularly kind to their projects that they work on. So Tony automatically has a one-up. 

He gets Barnes to come to this mechanic garage, surrounded by old tin signs and vintage cars that cost more than most of the monthly rent of penthouses in New York. 

Bucky does a double-take. 

“Howard?” 

“I hope not,” Tony answers. “Hop up on the chair for me, please. I’m getting you a new arm.” 

“This is fine,” Barnes automatically spouts. Tony can see the damage from here, and can even point out that the arm’s reaction time is probably the worst it has been currently. 

“If you want to stick to your Great Depression ideals, then by all means be my guest and go bitch in a grocery store about prices,” Tony responds dryly. “But if you want an arm that’s gonna be actually good, then sit.” 

So he does. 

Tony looks incredibly similar to his father. But there’s something different about him. Something softer, almost. Bucky didn’t know Howard nearly as well as others did, but he knew that Tony wasn’t his father. 

“How are you adjusting to the city?” Tony asks. 

"Still the shithole we all know and love,” Bucky swears. “I think the rats got bigger.” 

“They did. It’s amusing and horrifying at the same time. You ride the subway yet?” 

“Yes and I’ve come to terms with it. Lots of new things to learn about it.” 

Barnes’ visits become more frequent. They talk about New York stuff. Tony tells him all about the fun events that have happened that he missed while he was doing time as an icicle. 

It’s nice, talking to him. Tony finally has someone who understands fatalistic humor and doesn’t respond with 

“That’s scary, Tony.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Bucky just says “cheers” and decides to tell Tony about the time he nearly died in 1992 because he lost his footing on the Eiffel Tower. 

Tony laughs, and laughs harder than he thought he had in a long time. 

-

Six turns into five. 

Bucky gets closer, and they have...something. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows that they go on breakfast dates most of the time and he knows the coffee orders by heart. 

“I think you’ve found someone,” Pepper says, teasing. “Look at you.” 

“Yeah, look at me,” Tony murmurs. 

He has five years left. That’s plenty of time to date someone and break up, right? 

Except. 

It’s...wonderful to date Bucky. They go all over, have fun trying the shittiest restaurants in town, and even get Steve to get out more and socialize with the group. 

They date and celebrate holidays together and have fun candles and--

Five turns into four. 

“Not that bad,” Tony whispers to himself when he’s getting ready for bed. 

“What’s not bad?” Bucky asks. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Just got a new toothpaste.” 

They watch It’s a Wonderful Life and Tony can’t really focus, not when he’s thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t picked out a design for his urn. 

Not when he realizes that he needs to break up with Bucky and make it a whole big scene so that no one will talk to him. It has to be about two years before the date, he thinks. 

He goes to another Dr. So-and-So. They say he might actually have one more year, but who knows. 

He doesn’t. 

But he wakes up with Bucky every day and they make breakfast, and he thinks that maybe he could tell him? Maybe? 

The words get stuck in his mouth. 

He can’t. 

He meets with his lawyer for the will. 

“Why making sudden changes?” 

“Just like to shake things up,” Tony says with a smile. “Never know what’s going to happen, right?” 

“You are right about that,” the lawyer says. He’s a bit uncomfortable. Tony Stark looks at him like he knows that his life is short and that something else will come up. But it’s not the lawyer’s job to ask if things really are okay, and it’s not like Tony would tell him anyway. 

So he makes the changes to the will. 

Tony looks at Bucky as he’s napping, face so peaceful. 

He can’t ruin that. 

[solo-net]

OTP Questions

Tagged by: No one! I stole this from @dep-yo-tee​

Tagging: No one!

Vera Hendrix and Stefano Russo

DISAGREEMENTS

•Who is more likely to raise their voice? Vera. She’s not the type who yells and she hates yelling because it drains her emotionally, but Stefano has a way of getting under her skin. If they get into even the smallest argument they are likely to fight and yell about it for weeks. Vera is never going to be the first person to give in, even if she knows she is wrong.

•Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Stefano. He’s lost count on the number of times he threatened to cut things off with Vera only to come crawling back a day later.

•Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Vera. There will come a time when Stefano commits the unforgivable and Vera leaves him. She'll become more and more unavailable to Stefano. Suddenly, she’ll stop returning his calls or she’ll just remove him from her contact list entirely. It’ll be as if he never existed in her life.

•Who trashes the house? Neither.

•How often do they argue/disagree? They argue a lot about the state of their relationship and Stefano’s jealousy.

SEX

•Who is top? It depends. Sometimes Stefano will want to mix it up a bit and haul Vera on top of him. He loves taking the reins in the bedroom, but deep down he loves it when Vera tops him.

•Who has the weirdest desires? Neither.

•Any kinks? Vera’s secret kink is being body painted. The idea of cool paint caressing her vulnerable skin not only turns her on, but it also makes her want it done to her with another person watching on. Stefano’s kink is the flesh itself. He wants to look at it, taste it, nibble on it; he wants to crush his own skull between Vera’s beautiful legs, he wants to go deaf listening to her scream his name as he pleasures her beyond the ability to think any longer. His kink is hot, naked flesh.

•Who’s dominant in bed? Stefano. He knows exactly what to do and when to do it; he might as well be giving Vera a full-blown story-line to go along with the steamy sex they have! Stefano also loves having spontaneous sex somewhere he and Vera definitely SHOULDN’T be having sex at.

•Is head ever in the equation? Yes.  

•If so, who’s better at performing it? Stefano. Stefano loves giving oral to Vera. While Stefano isn’t the type to go down on just any woman, because he’s picky and judgmental as hell, whoever he does go down on is one hell of a lucky woman. Like, the luckiest of women. Vera is that lucky woman.

•Ever had sex in public? Sometimes. Vera is always down to try new things and having sex in public is on her list. She and Stefano have had sex on a rooftop where they were comfortably isolated from the bustle of Night City’s street.

•Who moans the most? Vera. For such a quiet and serious woman she moans the loudest.

•Who leaves the most marks? Stefano. He wants the whole world to know who Vera belongs to. P.S. She hates how he leaves such large hickeys on her neck.

•Who is the most experienced of the two? Both. Vera and Stefano have had their fair share of lovers. They know exactly what they’re doing in the bedroom.

•Do they ‘fuck’ or 'make love’? Fuck. But sometimes Stefano will slowly ease Vera into making love.

•Rough or soft? Both. It depends on the mood.

•How long do they usually last? A while. There’s a lot of foreplay and teasing...a sensual buildup until one or the other can’t take it anymore.

•Is protection used? No. Vera is on the pill and Stefano loathes condoms. However, during the first few weeks, they were together, Vera made him use a condom.

•Does it ever get boring? Sometimes. There are times when Vera’s not in the mood and Stefano is quick to pick up on her lackluster performance so he stops to save himself the disappointment. Some couples have bad sex and that’s perfectly normal!

•Where is the strangest place they’ve had sex? The back of a club. Stefano was impatient and Vera was in the mood for a quickie.

FAMILY

•Do they plan on having children/or have children? Not at first. Their relationship is casual...for now. In a couple of years, they get married and have kids of their own.

•If so, how many children do they want/have? Only five. Two girls and three boys.

AFFECTION

•Who likes to cuddle? Stefano. Stefano is the type of guy who secretly loves cuddling so much that even when he doesn’t have anyone to cuddle with, he’s dreaming about snuggling up with Vera.

•Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Stefano. He gets very touchy in public and a little overbearing, but Vera doesn’t mind too much...just so long as he doesn’t overstep.

•Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves? Stefano. When he’s feeling playful, Stefano can get touchy-feely and he'll want Vera to play along with him, but his playful attitude is usually more like play fighting and tickling, not so much snuggling on the couch and smooching.

•How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Think of Vera like a cat: when she wants to be touched, she’ll let Stefano know. Otherwise, she’ll feel uncomfortable being held for too long and too tight. It’s not that she’s totally opposed to affection at all, but she does feel more affectionate when she’s with someone she really trusts.

•Who gives the most kisses? Vera. She loves kissing Stefano and will try to steal a kiss from him whenever she can.

•What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Vera and Stefano spend a lot of time in her apartment. A few kisses, some hand-holding, a cute hug from behind — they love it all.

•Where is their favorite place to cuddle? The bed. Vera will often find herself wrapped up in Stefano’s strong arms and resting her head on his broad chest.

•How often do they get time to themselves? Not much. Vera is so busy that sometimes she’ll end up sleeping in her car before moving onto her next job. Stefano has a full schedule so he’s sometimes unable to make time for himself.

SLEEPING

•Who snores? Vera. Fortunately for her, her snores aren’t very loud and they come off as cute little snuffles.

•If both do, who snores the loudest? None. Stefano is a quiet sleeper and Vera’s snores are pretty tame.

•Do they share a bed or sleep separately? If Vera isn’t in the mood to share a bed with Stefano, he’ll go sleep on the couch but most of the time they share the same bed.

•If they sleep together, do they cozy up or lay far apart? Cozy up. They can’t help it. Their bodies just slowly drift together.

•What do they wear to bed? Stefano wears only pajama pants to bed. Vera wears short shorts and a very long t-shirt.

•Are either of the insomniacs? Stefano.  He just can't stop thinking... to the point where it could seriously drive him a little crazy. Going over details again and again, until all details seem pointless and senseless — that's what Stefano does, on a nightly basis. Too many thoughts with too little direction.

•Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? No.

•Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Vera gets a little clingy in her sleep so Stefano will take full advantage and wrap his arms around her.

•Who wakes up with bed hair? None. Stefano’s hair is always put together and Vera wears a bonnet or a wrap to bed.

•Who wakes up first? Vera. Early to bed early to rise.

•Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? None. Vera prefers to make her own breakfast because she doesn’t trust people to make her food. Stefano hates eating in bed.

•What is their favorite sleeping position? Spooning.

•Do they set an alarm each night? Yes. Stefano is a hard sleeper so he’ll set the volume of his alarm to super loud.

•Can a television be found in their bedroom? No.

•Who has nightmares? Vera.

•Who has ridiculous dreams? Stefano has strange dreams of dancing pigs and singing cars. Yeah, it gets pretty weird.

•Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Stefano is pretty broad so he’ll take up Vera’s whole bed.

•Who makes the bed? Whoever wakes up first.

•What time is bed? Bedtime for Vera is twelve at midnight. For Stefano, he’ll go to bed at ten or eleven p.m.  

•Any routines/rituals before bed? Both will wash their faces and brush their teeth before going to bed.

•Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Stefano. He’ll speak in nothing but Italian in the mornings because he’s just too damn tired and grumpy to speak English. The only reason why Vera taught herself Italian was because she wanted to communicate with Stefano better in the morning.

WORK

•Who is the busiest? Both. Vera is constantly taking up jobs for Dexter Deshawn and Stefano is a corporate yuppie who is practically stuck in his office all day making conference calls and crunching the numbers.

•Who rakes the highest income? Obviously Stefano. Vera makes a steady flow of cash, but because Stefano is a Corporate Yuppie...he makes more.

•Are any of them unemployed? No.

•Who takes the most sick days? Neither of them. Vera can’t afford to take sick days and Stefano is afraid that taking a sick day will be seen as a weakness by his business rivals. It’s a chance that both cannot take.

•Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Neither.

•Who sucks up to their boss? Stefano. He is constantly sucking up to the big bosses so that he can make himself look good.

•What are their jobs? Stefano is a Corporate Executive who works in the corporate district with all the rest of the elite. Vera works as a hired gun for Dexter Deshawn.

•Who stresses the most? Stefano. He may not seem like it, but he is under constant stress at his job and is always pushing himself to be the best. In the Corporate world, its either kill or be killed...literally.

•Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Stefano enjoys the thrill of his job and the fulfillment it gives him. Vera is indifferent. Money is money.

•Are they financially stable? Yes.

HOME

Who does the washing? Vera. She’s a clean freak and washing soothes her.

•Who takes out the trash? Both, but its mostly Vera who takes out the trash.

•Who does the ironing? Vera. She irons her own clothes. Stefano is too much of a perfectionist to let someone else iron his shirts.

•Who does the cooking? Vera. Stefano prefers eating out, but Vera doesn’t trust people to make her food...so she does her own cooking.

•Who is the one to burn down the house when trying? Stefano. For years, he’s paid people to cook for him and if given the chance to make his own meal he’ll burn the kitchen down.

•Who is messier? Neither.

•Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Stefano. It drives Vera crazy.

•Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Neither.

•Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither.

•Who is the prankster around the house? Neither. They loath pranks.

•Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Vera. She has a habit of misplacing her keys and forgetting where she put them.

•Who mows the lawn? Neither. Stefano hires a man to do that and Vera lives in an apartment.

•Who answers the telephone? Vera. She answers ALL calls without delay.

•Who does the vacuuming? Vera. She vacuums like crazy and will not stop until she’s gotten every single crumb.

•Who does the groceries? Vera. She buys her own food at twelve different grocery stores in the city.

•Who takes the longest to shower? Vera because she has a hair and skin routine.

•Who spends the most time in the bathroom? See above.

MISCELLANEOUS

•Is money a problem? Not for Stefano. He’s a corporate overlord who makes a pretty penny. Vera makes a decent sum working for Deshawn, but not enough to make it big in Night City.

•How many cars do they own? Vera owns one. Stefano owns a flying car that he rides around in.

•Do they own their home or do they rent? Vera lives in an apartment building so she’s constantly paying rent. Stefano lives in a giant mansion.

•Do they live in the city or in the country? Both live in Night City.

•Do they enjoy their surroundings? Vera HATES the city. As a Nomad who lives on the road, Night City feels more like a prison than a home.

•What’s their song? Isak Danielson - Power

•What do they do when they’re away from each other? Working or tending to their personal business.

•Where did they first meet? Stefano heard rumors of an up and coming mercenary who knew how to get the job done. He was in desperate need of a hired gun and he hired Vera to rough up a business rival who stole money from him. They met in his office to go over the details...and Stefano was instantly smitten.

•Who spends the most money when out shopping? Vera. She likes to treat herself.

•Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Neither.

•Who finds it amusing when the other trips over something? Vera. There’s just something so hilarious about this self-assured man tripping over his feet.

•Any mental issues? Vera has severe PTSD.

•Who’s terrified of bugs? Vera. Spiders freak her out. Too many eyes.

•Who kills the spiders around the house? Neither. Vera prefers to pluck them up with a piece of paper towel and throw them out of her window.

•Their favorite place? The top of Vera’s apartment building. It’s just so relaxing and far up.

•Who pays the bills? They don’t live together and have their own bills to pay.

•Do they have any fears for their future? Vera is afraid of never making it to the big leagues and Stefano is afraid of losing Vera to someone else.

•Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Stefano. He loves to surprise her with exotic foods and grand dishes.

•Who’s the tallest? Stefano. He’s 6′2″.

•Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Stefano. He loves to get intimate in the shower with Vera and is always quick to climb in and wash her back or hair.

•Who wanders around in their underwear? Vera. She feels comfortable wandering around her apartment in just her bra and panties.

•Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Neither.

•What do they tease each other about? Vera likes to tease Stefano about his fancy suits and will ask if he’s ever worn “normal clothes.”

•Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Stefano. He hates how Vera wears heavy clothing during the summer and doesn’t seem unaffected by the heat.

•Who crushed first? Stefano. It was Vera’s looks and ability to get the job done that made him attracted to her.

•Any alcohol or substance-related problems? Vera drinks too much to cope with the stress of living in the big city.

•Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Vera.

•Who swears the most? Vera but its really Stefano who will curse in Italian when things don’t go his way.

[darley1101]

July 15 Friendship (Jake x Bailey/MC ES)

Title: Shut Up And Kiss Me

Book: Endless Summer

Pairing: Jake x Bailey/F!MC with mention of others

Rating: PG-13

Warning/Triggers: Teasing from friend, kiss that happens because of a bet

Summary: 'We could die tomorrow.' The severity of what they're about to face has Bailey stepping out of her comfort zone.

Request: July 15 Friendship  from @endlessly-searching-for-you , “Just shut up and kiss me already” from @endlessly-searching-for-you's February challenge, and 'Kissing because of a bet.' Both made by @brightpinkpeppercorn

A/N: I know this isn't exactly the whole gang but this is what I've got. I hope you enjoy! Tags are at the end of the story. If you would like to be added, moved, or removed please let me know. If you enjoyed the story please consider giving it a like, comment, or a re-blog so others might enjoy it as well.

Less Talk, More Action

Curling her body into one of the mod patterned club chairs that dotted The Celestial lobby, Bailey laid her head in the crook of her arm and tried to focus on anything but the turmoil brewing outside the hotel's gates. She'd let Diego talk her into this trip because it was supposed to be a 'once in a lifetime experience in paradise'. He'd been right about the once in a lifetime experience but she was still waiting for paradise. The image of a shaggy haired pilot with laughing blue eyes and a dimpled grin flashed before her but quickly faded. Guys like Jake Mackenzie, who coined nicknames at the drop of a hat and drank like a proverbial sailor, were seldom interested in girls like her; smart girls who were more comfortable coding a new app or researching the best way to build an eco friendly tiny house than they were with flirting. He was a good time guy looking for a good time girl, which Bailey was decidedly not.

“We could die tomorrow,” Diego announced before dropping into the chair adjacent to hers. “Bailey...” She looked up when he nudged her with his knee, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones. “Did you hear what I said?”

“We could die tomorrow,” she parroted, her voice void of emotion.

“Exactly. We could die tomorrow. Which means...this could be our last night on earth.”

Bailey sat up, her long hair spilling over her shoulder like liquid sunshine. “You're not going to confess your secret love are you because...no offense...you're not my type.” She tried to smile, to keep things light despite the heaviness that hung in the air. It didn't work. The smile twisted into a grimace that fell flat and then faded.

“What?” Diego's eyes widened in horror. “Ew! No! You're sporting a few things that are kind of a big turn off for me.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting lightly on his knees while he worried his lower lips between his teeth. “No, I was thinking...this could be our last night on earth and maybe you should, I don't know, live a little...just in case.”

“I've lived.” Bailey scowled, her mind scrambling for at least one example that would knock the knowing smirk off her best friend's face. “I helped that football player write his paper last week,” she reminded him. “And I bought that purple bikini for this trip...which I wore to the pool last night thank you very much.”

“You're a tutor Bai, it's sort of in your job description to help other students with their homework.”

“Yes, but I wrote most of the report for him,” Bailey interjected.

“Doesn't count.” Diego rolled his eyes and held up his hand when she started to push the matter of that teeny, tiny purple bikini she'd bought on a whim. “And...the bikini doesn't really count either because you wore a t shirt over it.”

“It was cold.” Dropping her feet to the floor, Bailey let out a shaky breath before letting her gaze sweep across the spacious lobby. Quinn sat on the floor, her back propped against the front desk, while Estela and Sean engaged in what looked to be a heated discussion, and Jake slumped in one of the chairs nursing a bottle of rum. The rest of their group was no where to be found. 'They're just hanging out elsewhere,' she reminded herself before any sort of panic could set in. Before she could stop herself, her gaze wandered back to Jake. Stubble covered his chiseled jaw and his sandy colored hair kept flopping in his eyes, making her fingers itch with the need to brush it off his face.

“The pool is heated.”

Jerking her attention back to Diego, Bailey opened her mouth to counter his remark only to snap her lips into a thin line when she realized he was right. “You don't always have to be right, you know, it's not attractive.”

“Being right is one of the few things I have going for me Bai, let me have it.”

“Don't say that,” Bailey scowled. “You have a lot going for you Diego. Anyone would be lucky to call you theirs.”

“You're my best friend, you have to say that.” Diego glanced in the direction of the others, his gaze lingering on Jake. “He keeps looking over here you know.”

“Wha...no....who...” Blood rushed to Bailey's cheeks, staining them the same crimson shade as the spaghetti strapped tank top she wore. She'd been so careful not to let anyone see or know about the ridiculous little crush she'd developed on their pilot. If Jake had somehow figured it out...well it was  for the best they were all probably going to die tomorrow because she didn't think she could stomach him looking at her with pity or outright rejecting her.

“The hottie pilot, that's who...” Diego narrowed his eyes, a telling smirk tweaking the corners of his lips. “Which I think you already know because you keep looking at him too.”  

“I do not!”

A snort past Diego's lips. “Sell that lie to someone who doesn't know you so well.”

Bailey opened her mouth to defend her actions only to snap it shut again. What was the point in arguing the details? Diego wasn't blind and Bailey wasn't subtle. “What does it matter, guys like that never notice girls like me.”

“Please,” Diego scoffed. “If you were to walk over there right now and lay one on him I seriously doubt he'd complain. In fact,” he paused, a suspicious glimmer brightening his dark eyes, “I dare you to go over there and kiss him.”

Sucking in her breathe, Bailey stared at her best friend in horror. “You're insane!” There was no way in hell she was going to walk over there and try to kiss a guy who had zero interest in her. They might die tomorrow but damn it she would die with her pride in tact. 'Your virginity too,' an inner voice teased. It sounded oddly like Diego, damn it. “That would be like me daring you to...to...” her mind reeled, trying to think of some off the wall dare for Diego but nothing came to mind. “No. Just...no.”

“Chicken.”

Bailey narrowed her eyes. “I am not a chicken.”

The teasing dimmed in Diego's eyes and his face grew serious. “All kidding aside...you kind of are. You never take any risks. You always play it safe. I know you're scared of getting hurt but being cautious all the time...you're not really living. You're just existing. This could be our last night on earth. You like the guy. I'm serving up a reason to kiss him on a silver platter. If he freaks you can laugh it off as a dare. If he doesn't...well...there are worse ways of spending your potentially last night on earth than making out with a hot pilot. You never know,” he winked, “you might finally cash in that v card.”

Was Diego right? Was she merely existing and not really living? The fact that she couldn't answer the question left her a bit unsettled. That wasn't how she meant to be. She couldn't even explain why she was that way. Inhaling deeply, she darted her gaze between Diego and Jake. “You've only got one life to live,” she muttered, rising from her chair. “And by golly if it ends tomorrow you're going to be able to say you took a chance.” Heart pounding like a bass drum she slowly walked across the lobby. Her palms felt clammy and sweat was starting to bead across her upper lip. Shit. Fuck. What was she doing? Her feet faltered. She should turn around; just turn around and high tail it back to the semi-comfortable chair she'd left. “No,” she whispered furiously. “You're going to do this.” Squaring her shoulders, chin raised high, she forced herself to close the distance between herself and Jake. “Uh..hi.”

Jake glanced up, one eye squinted. “Hey Princess.”

Princess. The silly nickname sent shivers of warmth and excitement through her body. “So...we could die tomorrow and...well...Diego...he...well...he dared me to kiss you...he called me a chicken, see...and if we really are going to die tomorrow I don't want to die a chicken...so-” Her words cut off in a squeak when Jake tugged her down on to his lap.

“Anyone tell you that you talk too much, Princess?” Wide eyed, Bailey shook her head and then nodded. She parted her lips, ready to launch into an explanation of why when he rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “So how about you shut up and kiss me.” 

[lupizora]

Shattered Reflection

Since the leftover sales for @bnhavillainauzine are on, I can finally post my fic for it here. It was a Villain Bakugou origin story, or more precisely, how imagined it would go down without anyone having to die for it.

Please consider helping bring this project to a satisfying conclusion by snatching our last copies!! Bonus, you’d get to enjoy the badass content from our contributors in all of its glory~ ♥

Genre: Angst/Drama

Pairing: None/Gen

Rating: T

Word Count: 4684

Summary: After a chance meeting with a rising Hero, the ghosts of the past return to remind Katsuki of the dream he left behind.

Explodo never thought he would hit the ground, more so roll on it until he had to stretch a hand to stop. The lower layer of his gloves shredded like paper from the friction, and hot air rushed through the crack in his gas mask. Street lights illuminated the secluded parking lot around him, the sickly orange color bouncing off the cars. Footsteps echoed like sledgehammers in the silence as the Hero materialized from the shadows of the alley. The same alley Explodo shot out from like a bullet when the asshole had punched him out of nowhere.

He got up on one knee, pieces of his mask fluttering like leaves to the ground. "What's your fucking problem?"

The Hero's metallic headpiece glistened as he stopped at a safe distance. "You're under arrest."  

"And what are my so-called crimes?"

"Isn't burning someone's small-time business enough?"

"His tempura was horrible. I was doing the world a favor."

"It's not up to you to decide that. Now stop resisting."

"I was peacefully getting away until you attacked me, dipshit." Explodo sneered. "This is me resisting."

He closed the distance between them with a double explosion, aiming for a right hook. The Hero avoided it. Grabbing his arm and the front of his turtleneck, the Hero slammed him over his shoulder on the concrete. Explodo's teeth clattered. He jumped to his feet, delivering an uppercut square on the Hero's jaw. It felt like hitting a wall even if his gloves absorbed part of the impact.

The fight continued with a barrage of fists and explosions. Explodo returned with double ferocity every heavy punch the Hero struck, like they were locked in some sort of odd dance. Explodo would press forward. The Hero would step back. Adrenaline rushed through Explodo’s veins. His heart pounded like a wild horse and sweat gathered underneath his face mask. This was a pointless fight. He knew it. Still, the thrill of it kept him going until a curious question popped up in his mind.

How is this guy still standing? He thought. His burns should be second-degree by now.

In that moment of lost concentration, the Hero found an opening and grabbed the muzzle of Explodo's gas mask. Rough fingers scraped against his cheek and his stomach did an unpleasant somersault. Pressing both palms on the Hero's bare chest, he released the most powerful explosion so far and the shockwave pushed them apart. Explodo managed to stay upright. His fingers were numb, pain running along the length of his forearms.

He stood, breathing hard, but the Hero didn’t reappear. As the smoke cleared and his ears stopped ringing, Explodo followed the cracked path of the concrete to find the Hero spread-eagled against a car. He had dented the vehicle inwards, but he himself appeared unharmed.

Seriously, what is this fucker made off? Explodo thought. He looks too normal to be a Mutant-type.

Something wet stained his cheekbones, and part of his face ached from where the straps of his mask had rubbed against his skin when they snapped. He ran his tongue along the length of his lower lip and felt the sharp tang of blood.

The piercing cry of a police siren shrilled through the night air. This was his cue to get the hell out of there. As he stepped forward, the Hero took a harsh breath.

"Why…" he whispered. "Such a powerful Quirk and you ended up like this?"

Explodo stared wide-eyed at him. "Huh?"

Grabbing the hood of the car like it was made of butter, the Hero heaved himself to his feet again. His eyes were set on the villain like his life depended on it. "Of all things you could do, why did you become a petty arsonist?"

Sparks of irritation ran along Explodo’s spine like firecrackers. "Who are you calling petty, asshole? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

"But you could’ve become anything you wanted!" The Hero took a step forward, grunting from the effort. His body crackled like he was a walking stone statue and that didn’t seem too far from the truth.

Explodo snorted. "Get off your high horse. Only Heroes get to use their Quirks in public. That's what their licenses are for." He glared at him from under his hood, the words dripping like poison from his mouth. "Everyone else has to lower their heads and pretend they don't have one—like they are Quirkless."

His animosity stunned the Hero, who lowered his head. "But did you try?" he asked. The earlier accusatory tone melted into an almost innocent curiosity as if he wanted—no needed—to understand but couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Explodo would have preferred if the Hero had yelled this question. Then maybe he wouldn’t have remembered his fourteen-year-old self, when he was still named Bakugou Katsuki, brimming with confidence as he shouted from the top of his desk that one day he would surpass All Might and become the number one Hero; a memory Explodo had buried so deep and for so long, it could belong to someone else.

Something moved on his right. Explodo jumped backward as a set of tentacles crashed into the pavement where he’d been standing. They appeared to be the fingers of another Hero entering the scene. He wore a cape with a hood in bright colors and his mask was covering half of his face.

"Are you alright, Red Riot?" he asked with a quick turn of the head to the other Hero.

"I've been through worse."

The easy-going tone in his voice, like this fight had been a walk in the park, irked Explodo but he suppressed his anger. These were unfamiliar waters. He hadn't been against two trained Heroes before and this second guy seemed like he was hiding more tricks up his sleeves. It was time to make his exit.

"As much as I'd love to kick both your asses, my job here is done." He propelled himself into the air, landing with a backflip on a street light. "Three is a crowd anyway."

"Wait!" Red Riot called. "You never answered me."

Explodo glanced over his shoulder. "Being this soft gets you killed in the real world," he said and jumped to avoid another tentacle coming after him. "Better remember that, Hero."

These were his final words as he propelled himself onto another street light, keeping this pace until he left the parking lot and the Heroes behind.

A few days later and Katsuki was staring at the ceiling fan with the intensity of a million suns. Good thing he couldn't set things on fire with his eyes too or the poor plastic thing would have been incinerated into a pile of ashes. He kept replaying the recent disgraceful encounter like a broken record. So far he had gotten by with hit-and-run attacks. In the past, whenever a Hero had intercepted him they hadn't been a serious threat. This had been the first real fight since meeting the Villain Alliance two years before. Katsuki had managed to escape by the skin of his teeth back then too; the same anger rumbling inside his chest as Shigaraki had more or less allowed him to live.

Sparks crackled like fireworks in his palms, but it did little to ease the prickles crawling underneath his skin. Katsuki scratched the flesh between his fingers. Of course, who would have thought such an up-and-coming sidekick like Red Riot would show up in this degraded shit-hole of a district. He was a U.A. graduate who made his debut during an internship by apprehending a crook that had taken a Quirk-boosting drug. Through watching videos and reading articles of his deeds, even Katsuki could admit the guy was promising. That didn't stop him from wishing revenge though. The bruises and his damaged pride hurt like hell.

The fan did another lazy turn and dust glinted in the few light rays the blinds let through. If he paid attention long enough, Katsuki could hear the plumbing rattling through the walls. Whenever water rushed a little stronger than usual, chips of paint would rain from the ceiling and cover everything like sugar powder.

"Kiddo! Come here for a sec," Jin called.

With an annoyed huff, Katsuki hopped over the couch's back and walked to the kitchen. It was a narrow room with a low counter on the left and a kitchen table almost making contact with the right wall, but it was decent compared to the previous dump they’d called home.

He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Will you cut that shit out already? I'm of age." His birthday was three months ago and he had been a few centimeters taller for a while, but Jin hadn't stopped dropping some variation of "kid" when he addressed him.

"I will when you start acting like it." Jin pointed at the table. "There's some cash. Take it and go to the convenience store."

"Why?"

"You have the itch-look on your face, and you're supposed to lay low so you can't go around burning things. We are out of milk anyway."

Katsuki's expression changed from mildly annoyed to grumpy, and then to super pissed in the span of the entire sentence. He smacked his hand on the counter. "I haven't burned anything in this fucking house for months!"

Jin stopped peeling the potato and used the handle of the knife to raise his palm from the counter. There was a faint scorched imprint from where his skin had come in contact with the steel.

"For fuck's sake." Katsuki snapped his hand away. "Can't you just clone me or something?"

"Doubling you will only double my problems." He allowed himself a small smile before his expression turned serious again. "No matter how interested I am in seeing you having a showdown with yourself, I don't want to replace furniture so soon. Don't be such a brat and go already. The fresh air may cool your head a little."

"Fine, you prissy old man."

His keys jingled as Katsuki unlocked the door, but he stopped with his hand on the handle. "If your Quirk works with you having a clear image, can't just clone yourself as you were before?" he said, tapping the center of his forehead. "At least that way we'll know who's the real one."

The knife stabbed the doorframe a few centimeters above his shoulder. Jin was panting with a strained expression, sweat already dripping from his chin. He covered his face with his hands.

"Get out."

The convenience store was packed for such a warm afternoon. Old ladies, students, and mothers with their children walked around, not seeming to mind the malfunctioning AC. Their chatter was like radio static to Katsuki, bits and pieces of a peaceful world he wasn't part of anymore. It baffled him how folks could go on with their mundane everyday lives while knowing of the terror lurking out there. Or maybe they didn't know. Not fully at least. After all, not everyone got their life turned upside down by a Villain; one that slid out of an ordinary soda bottle no less.

Katsuki had just begun his last year of middle school back then. After the incident, he couldn't stop wondering that if he had reacted faster, if he hadn't stood frozen like a fucking idiot, he could have prevented it. But while drowning under the sludge he had none of those thoughts. All his energy was focused on clawing his way out of it.

"C'mon! Stop struggling," the Villain said. His slime had covered Katsuki almost entirely by then, like a heavy blanket he couldn't shake off. "It'd be easier for you too."

As if I'd let an asshole like you win! He thought, frustrated. I'm stronger than this! His palms ignited explosions of their own volition, shattering the road around them.

The Villain's whistle rang inside Katsuki's head as if he had done it.  "What a jackpot! Why have you been hiding such a Quirk, huh?"

It had been a ridiculous remark. One Katsuki shouldn't have paid attention to considering who it came from, but it stuck even after All Might had saved both him and Deku. In the following days, it had evolved into the same question buzzing at the back of his mind.

Why hadn’t his strong Quirk helped him in the first place?

His goons provided the answer. They had been avoiding him like the plague after the incident, so one day Katsuki hunted them down at their hidden smoking spot. Long Fingers attempted to greet him casually, but Katsuki grabbed him by the lapel of his school uniform and demanded an explanation for their behavior.

"It's nothing personal," Long Fingers said. "Just uh…"

"It was the first time you went all out like that," Undercut said. "Like we knew your Quirk is top notch, but this…" He fiddled with his unlit cigar. "This was freaky."

Katsuki let Long Fingers go. "And what about that? You dolts think no Hero ever went that far to beat a Villain?"

"If the Villain wasn't there…" Undercut looked up. "I'd say you were enjoying the destruction."

"You think I did it on purpose?" He said as an itch gnawed at the flesh inside his palms. "I'm gonna be a Hero! Collateral damage is in the goddamn job description."

"Then tell me, is beating the bad guys the only reason you wanna be a Hero?"

The irritation spread to the rest of his hands and Katsuki clenched them into fists.  "Cut the crap. Who do you think you are to question me? You lot of ambitionless extras will never understand what it takes to make it into U.A.! If I have to destroy public property to practice, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!"

"But it'll get on your record," Long Fingers said. "You wouldn't dare."

It had been as if someone flipped a switch inside his head. Katsuki pretended the topic was over in front of them, but he pondered it in the privacy of his room. He had been using his Quirk within regulations his whole life. He needed a clean record to even think of enrolling in the most popular school of the country. After all, there were things that even he wouldn't be able to get away with doing.

Without Katsuki realizing it, the earlier itch had returned. He scratched absentmindedly at the spot below his fingers and followed the calluses all the way to the heel of his hand. His palms had always had a rough texture to them, like a countermeasure against burning his skin with his Quirk. Due to that, irritations were rare. He stared at his hand. Any more scratching and he would bleed. His Quirk ignited, sparks flying along his fingers like mini-firecrackers. For a moment he hadn't noticed something was missing until the heat from his explosions receded.

The itch was back.

Grabbing the nearest hoodie, he left the house. The sun was a single brushstroke of red on the horizon. No one had paid him much attention, and the crowd thinned significantly closer to the beach park until Katsuki stood alone at the entrance.

Behind the protective railing, trash piles spread like hills among the sand. It was common for the locals to dump their garbage there, despite the glaring warning sign. Of course, the chances of bumping into someone were low, given how sneaky people were being about it. Still, Katsuki didn't stop looking behind his back as he navigated through the trash. Several steps later he stumbled into a clearing. Microwaves, television sets, and other electrical appliances were scattered all around him. A large fridge got his attention as the last sun rays were reflected in its mirrored surface. The door of the refrigerator was missing, the ice long since evaporated. With a deep breath, he pressed both hands on the fridge. The cold metal bent under the growing heat and at its peak, he released the explosion.

The fridge split in two, scorched parts and cables spilling to the ground like intestines. Katsuki skidded backward but managed to stay upright. Birds flew off from the ruckus. Worry plagued him for a moment, but soon euphoria replaced the weight in his chest. His smoking hands weren't itching anymore. He closed them into fists, allowing a feral grin to spread across his face.

It was intoxicating; like a forbidden early taste of the freedom awaiting him.

The whole situation turned into a game in his head. Passing under the radar of his parents and crossing paths with unsuspecting pedestrians amused him. No one had considered for a moment that an honor student like him would be breaking the law. Lowering the strength of his explosions had helped avoid arousing suspicion from the locals. Everyone pretended the trash weren’t their problem, but loud noises in the middle of the night would had eventually gathered some complaints. His grades were unaffected too, because he made sure to finish his homework before sneaking out. By the time he decided to go there during the day, Katsuki was sure he had won.

His footsteps were light against the pavement that summer day. It took all his concentration to not propel himself a little faster with the help of his explosions.

I could try that today, he thought with a smile as he neared the beach park.

There was a man standing at the entrance.

As if lightning struck him, Katsuki stopped in his tracks.

Super tall and criminally thin, the man leaned against an old pickup truck. His back was still turned as he observed the piles of trash, so Katsuki fled. After at least a block away, he ducked behind a wall to hide. His heart hammered in his chest like a caged bird. Blood pounded in his temples and he was sweating all over. Reality dawned on him like someone had doused him with cold water.

Game over.

Of course, the man had worn only a regular t-shirt and pants. He couldn’t have been an officer. Rumours spread fast though and Katsuki had been doing this for months. Witnesses were bound to show up, no matter how careful he had been. One-time offenders were forgiven with barely a slap on the wrist but given the level of his offence, this would go on his record for sure. So from that day on, Katsuki stopped going to the beach and used his Quirk only when it was allowed.

He could endure this. The exams were only nine months away.

This was his mantra when pens started melting in his hands, and he left hand imprints on his chair. Everyone was willing to sweep these accidents under the rug with only a minor scolding. Being nervous was to be expected. He aimed for the top after all. But the itch kept him awake even the night before the exam. Katsuki stared at the ceiling, battling the thought of sneaking out for one last time until the sun rose on the horizon.

Endure it…

His mother caught him in the hall with his bag already on his shoulder. She tightened the scarf around his neck, raving about how proud they were. His dad managed to sneak a photo at that moment with a fond smile. Katsuki still remembered vividly their confident faces as they sent him off.

Endure it.

The train ride was a blur of faceless people and bleak scenery. It didn't help him forget the itch crawling inch by inch along his forearm. Katsuki kept his hands strictly in the pockets of his coat all the way to the main entrance of U.A. Passing under the gateways was like a dream come true. Then his gaze landed on the mustard yellow backpack in front of him, and the boy with the mess of green hair wearing it.

Endure it!

Anger flared in his chest like a grenade. That bastard Deku still aimed to take the spotlight from him. What right did that Quirkless nobody have to try and play the hero? The stench of burned fabric reached him, and Katsuki stared at his smoking palms, terrified. He was amongst a mass of examinees and probably members of the staff. He wasn't allowed to make a scene.

In his hurry to leave, Katsuki bumped onto someone. He only registered the other person wearing a black uniform too. With clenched fists, he tried to move past him, but the guy stood in his way again.

"The exams are the other way," he said.

"Dropped my ID," Katsuki mumbled.

"Ouch. I can help you lo-"

"No fucking need. Move."

"O-okay…" The guy flashed him an uneasy shark-toothed smile and stepped aside. "Uh, good luck!" he shouted at Katsuki's disappearing back.  

"Whatever."

Reaching the foliage-less trees was a race against his raging emotions. The moment Katsuki passed the brow of the forest, he broke into a sprint. It was after several meters that he stopped and leaned wheezing against a tree trunk. He pulled at the scarf.

This is ridiculous. I have to go back, he thought. I won't lose this chance because of the damn nerd.

But that's not it, isn't it? The voice, that wasn't quite his, whispered in his ears. What if you can't contain yourself during the exam?

Something heavy settled on his shoulders. Phantom tentacles started coiling around his arms as if the Mudman from a year ago was back.

I'm gonna have to use my Quirk to fight anyway.

What if they see me?

His reflection stared back from the fridge he had destroyed in the beach park. It grinned like a wild animal ready for the kill. The imaginary slime covered him whole. He was suffocating again. Katsuki ignited his Quirk. The wind scattered the scorched remains of his scarf away.

No, he couldn't do this. Not in this state. What Hero can't control his Quirk?

Katsuki fled like hell was chasing him, and didn't stop boarding trains until he had left behind all familiar places.

For a society boasting about low crime rates, the outskirts were brimming with people illegally using their Quirks. So Katsuki just followed their example to stay alive in these streets. Falling under the radar took some time to get used to, especially when all sorts of oddballs—Vigilantes, Villain-wannabes, the random police patrol—tried to get ahold of him at any given opportunity. It turned into another game of hide-and-seek, his loathing growing with each encounter. Their Quirks were extensions of their bodies. Why should Katsuki repress his? They’d lived in a superhuman society for decades. Normal and ordinary were supposed to be out of the dictionary.

They weren't, though, because Quirkless people still existed. Those echoes of an era long gone didn't want to feel left out and had to drag everyone else into this farce of appearing as equals. Things had changed, the world had changed, and someone had to show them the truth. So Katsuki did. Maybe Jin was right calling him a kid. His resolution hadn't changed from back then. It wasn't about controlling his Quirk anymore. He only wanted to see the world burn beneath his fingertips.

Sometimes Katsuki wondered if the other kid, the one dreaming of heroics, still existed underneath the mask. He couldn't recognize anymore where Explodo ended and his civilian persona began because his reflection had the same intensity either way.

Intensity he currently directed at the misplaced shelves in front of him. He knew this convenience store like the back of his hand as it was the closest to their apartment. The fruit and vegetable stalls should have been there. Katsuki sighed, frustrated. He had plowed through the shopping list he’d been given with the money easily, but decided to get some watermelon slices too—watermelon was Jin’s go-to desert during summer. Katsuki hadn't tried to be a total dick to the older Villain; he’d only wanted to release some of his annoyance in less destructive ways. But he had pushed the wrong buttons on someone that was more mentally unstable than him. If he didn't want this to end badly, he had better patch things up.

While turning around the corner of the particular corridor though, he crashed into someone. Both their baskets fell to the floor. Katsuki attempted to steady himself on the shelves but his hand missed. The other person grabbed it instead and straightened him. The muscle-toned and caked-with-scars arm belonged to a guy around his height and probably his age, although some remains of his teen softness still clung to his face. His hair, tied into a loose short ponytail, was as red as his eyes when they locked gazes. Of course, Katsuki knew that pulling his hand away as fast as he did was rude, but the goddamn contact made his skin crawl. He didn't fancy people touching him in costume; he sure as hell didn't like it out of it either.

"Watch where you're going, Shitty Hair."

"Hey!" he said with a hidden laugh in his voice. "Have you seen your own hair, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki froze. "What?"

"I mean the way it sticks out in all directions like that reminds me of a static explosion." He flashed an awkward sharp-toothed smile. "So I went along with the joke."

As the little scar running on his eyelid was revealed, Katsuki realized he had just rubbed shoulders with Red Riot again. If he allowed him to continue this thought it would mean the worst scenario was around the corner. After all, the scratches on Katsuki’s face were still fresh and visible.

An attack was the best defense.

"You look familiar," Katsuki said skeptically, crossing his arms.

Red Riot mirrored him. "I don't think we've met."

Katsuki cocked his head like a curious cat and forced his eyes to widen in fake surprise. "Could it be…? You're Red Riot, the Vigorous Hero, right?"

Total bliss washed over the Hero's features to the point of almost glowing. It only lasted for a brief moment before he tried to suppress it.

"You got me," he said. "And I'm really sorry for the mess." He gestured at the scattered groceries at their feet.

"Nah, I kinda overreacted. It's wasn't that big of a deal."

"Let me help then."

They gathered their stuff in silence with Katsuki stealing glances in Red Riot's direction. He appeared calm, but couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom off his shoulders. Had he dodged this or not?

Everything was back in place before he could come to a satisfying conclusion. But the Hero didn't make a move to leave. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck with a puzzled expression.

"Uh… Would you like me to treat you to some coffee? For the trouble and all?"

"Really it wasn't-"

"I insist."

He had such an honest look on his face, like he had done some great offense to him and wanted to repay it. Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek to keep the feral grin from spreading across his face. This guy was indeed too soft for this job.

"Alright," he said defeated. "I know a place nearby if you want."  

"You're a lifesaver, man! This is my first time in this neighborhood."

"And you still offered? Are you an idiot?"

Red Riot actually laughed at that. "You're pretty weird yourself," he said and gestured at him from top to bottom.

"Katsuki."

"Eijirou. Nice to meet you."

"Same."

And he wasn't lying. Opportunities like this were considered miracles. It was like the star guiding the wicked finally smiled at him. If he played his cards right not only revenge, but valuable info too would be within his grasp. It didn’t matter that Red Riot resembled the guy Katsuki bumped into the day of U.A.’s entrance exam. Idiots with that considerate attitude were those aiming to be Heroes the most. The bravery of sticking to their dreams didn’t matter either. It was Villain policy to give them a reality check.

After all, Heroes don’t always win in the end.

[southerneldritch]

It begins (Chapter 1)

The sun was not burning hot so much as painfully reminding him how important it was. High in the southern sky the heat pushed the humidity around enough to make the small shaded porch feel more like a sauna that a place for reprieve. However, now a good 3 feet down and still digging into the grave or one Mr. Lewis Rothburg, it left him wondering if the shade would prove more comfortable than it had once provided.

Stopping a moment to wipe his brow he looked around the long abandoned cemetery. Each stone edifice, once a proud reminder of capable men and women who in their lives had done great things...and horrible things, now standing derelict deep in the woods surrounded by an ever encroaching nature. A slight smirk crossed his lips, "The seem lucky." he thought to himself aloud. "They have no issue with what horrors are coming...they really needn't worry." He laughed as his shovel struck something hard and the sound of hollow wood thunked through the air. "Shit." He muttered.

There were two distinct things that immediately ran through his mind. Either the cemetery back in the day was notably unconcerned with health and safety, thusly the coffins were buried much shallower than they should be or, more worryingly, the man who sold the information about the location of Mr. Rothburg also warned that the graveyard had been used by criminals for hiding all sorts of things. Typically speaking the actions of the criminal world seldom would have bothered him but the fear that Mr. Rothburg was no longer where he was supposed to be greatly shifted the situation from simple to complicated.

With little to no options left for him he began to dig and free whatever thing he had just struck with his shovel. The sun glaring at the actions below as with some considered effort the lid of a coffin was uncovered. The sound of cicadas filling the air he took a deep breath and jammed a crowbar around the edge of the lid. With a groan and firmly planted feet the casket lurched open. "Well fuck." He let the words lose themselves in the summer heat as he looked down in disbelief.

The tires of the old truck did not grip well on what could best be called a trail, perhaps a path, either way he didn't care. With a foot down hard the engine putted and pushed all it had as the vehicle flew through the thick of the woods back towards a motel on the outskirts of town. Skidding onto the actual road the cargo stowed in the back of the truck slid and banged hard against the side causing the skid of the tires to feel far more dramatic than how sharp a turn he actually made. Despite the weight the very coffin sized and shaped container, it didn't break.

With a grinding of gears and feet hard down on the brake the vehicle came to a stop in most of one parking space outside the Quiet Glenn motel. He slammed the door not so much from panic as much as the sweat that had covered him had caused it to slip quickly from his grasp. The setting sun still fighting the cold of the darkness that was now trying to cool the area. He threw the motel door open and as abruptly as it had made such a calamitous entry the cheap door was resting back in its sill with him sliding the lock into place. His heart was racing but he wasn't tired, turning around and smudging cemetery dirt across his shirt he looked up at a surprised woman sitting at the small table near the back of the room. Normally her thick raven curls of hair would have been accenting each side of her face but instead were now tightly pinned up, slightly damp with a glob of something smeared across a part of the her hair. She chuckled while setting down a slice of pizza back into the box on the table. "So it went well?" The question was sincere but purposely teasing in tone.

"Well!?" He exclaimed walking towards the table. "No I think we can categorically label it as poorly." His voice laid out a frustration that was punctuated with his glare at the tv which was currently displaying some sort of reality show, before flopping over onto the bed. "How well do you know Virgil?" His words muffled by the pillow he spoke into.

“Most of my life.” She cocked her head to the side and grasped the pizza box before standing and asking, “Did he give us bad info?”

“No, if anything the info was very correct.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“Several things, most of all, how well do you trust Virgil?” He pulled his face from the bed and sat up on the end of the stiff excuse for bedding provided by the motel. “Also, what the hell is in your hair?”

“I didn't have anything else to do so I’m bleaching some bit of my hair. It looked fun. Anyways, I know him pretty well, he’s known me and my family for a long time.” Her eyes grew concerned as she looked down at him sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

Drawing in a long breath he looked up at her and the box of pizza and reached out to take a slice. “We’ll at the very least I suppose we can feel satisfied that Mr. Rothburg was where Virgil said he would be.” Pausing to take a bite of the room temperature slice while again finding reason to glare at the TV. “Sadly he also mentioned that such a place tends to attract the more unsavory of folk.”

A smile crossed her lips as she plopped down heavily beside him. “Aren’t we the unsavory types? Somewhat doom and gloom, all manors of suspicious actions, illegal activity and occult hoobie dooby?”

“Not that sort of unsavory, more of the ‘we kill to accomplish our goals’ sorts of unsavory.” He said with a grimace while now looking at the slice of room temperature pizza in his hand. “We have never sought to injure, Mel.” he added with an impressively serious tone.

Placing the box on the bed just behind them both Mel asked, “So are you going to explain what has you in a such a mood or do I have to keep playing 20 questions?”

“I wish it we simple but it feels like it's worse.” he muttered

“Let's start simple.” She hated it when he acted like this, always a man with a plan and if things shift up, big ol grump for a hot minute. “Was Rothburg there?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him.”

“Good. So first problem?”

“The coffin was roughly three feet down.”

“Only three feet?”

“Yup, first issue.” He stated after taking a bite of the pizza. “Do we have beer?” he added.

“Sure do, but so what if he was buried in a shallow grave. It wasn't like the townsfolk were gonna respect him"

“True. However, there is more to this mood than just interesting burial habits.” He stood and walked over to the small whirring mini fridge and plucked a beer out. “I don't think this is the first time Mr. Rothburg has been dug up.”

“What, why would anyone other than us want to dig him up!?” She was beginning to understand his mood. “What possible reason would they dig him up and then put him back!?”

“Like I said.” he began walking towards the door gesturing for her to follow. “How well do you trust Virgil?”

She got up and followed, both stepped outside into the hot twilight. The sun still determined to broil the area before being slowly beaten back by the encroaching night sky. They walked over to the back of the truck and swung open the tailgate door. He hopped into the back and grabbed an edge of the coffin lid and looked up at her, “Come here I don't want anyone to see.”

She stepped in beside the door and looked down at the coffin lid  his fingers were gripping. “Well enough build up, lets see it!”

With a sudden jerk and a loud crackling of metal hinges set in wood the lid lifted open. Light from the now buzzing parking lot fluorescents poorly lit what was laying in the coffin. First and foremost was the body of Mr. Lewis Rothburg, clearly it was his twisted form as the shin bones had been separated from his legs and placed under his chin. Though a considerable amount of decay had occurred it was also still plain to see that the jaw of Mr. Rothburg had been wired shut with crude metal studs and copper wire, ensuring even in death that he would no longer speak damnable words.

No, the condition of Mr. Rothburg was not the reason for shock or even a turned stomach full of pizza delivery, the reason that both of them looking into the coffin had slack jaws and bewilderment across their faces was because nestled around Rothburg’s remains were countless stacks of cash, gold, intricate medallions with arcane symbols and some weapons of peculiar design.

“What the hell is all of that!?” she exclaimed before realizing there were too few tenants in this particular southern motel outskirts of town to justify shouting without drawing attention. In a more collected tone while he began to shut the coffin. “Why is Rothburg swimming in cash?”

“I'm sorry, but did anything about my entry and line of questions sound like I have more ideas than you do now.” Hopping out the truck he closed and locked the doors, he suddenly felt very watched and disliked the notion. “Let’s get back inside and figure out our next move.” A cool breeze of night air brushed passed them both, typically a wonderful feeling now oddly ominous. They both went back inside the motel room before turning to locked the door behind them he added, “And wash your goddamn hair.”

[exceptionalff]

Chapter 10

“So how are we supposed to keep this shit platonic as you call it because I don't think it's going to work. If we’re being real here.” Andre argued, throwing his hands underneath of his head and staring at the ceiling fan.

“We just keep it casual. We try not to touch as often because that always gets us into trouble. We just act like two friends. It's really not that hard.” Reese yawned into the pillow. Now turning on her back she stared too at the ceiling.  

“You can't be serious? I can't kiss you or touch you at all? Like ever?” He whined. “Are you serious?” His reiteration caused her to laugh and giggle at how displeased he truly sounds at this new deal.

Reese sighed deeply and sat up straight against the headboard, staring out the massive window. “Yeah I'm serious. It’s better this way, I can feel it.” Looking to her left she continued to geek off of the angry expression he wouldn't let go of. “Andre, come on. How are we supposed to be friends when we keep getting caught up in the same position only for nothing to happen and we both end up upset? I know how you feel about me and yes you are growing on me too but we can't keep fucking around. We’ll get somewhere yeah but not to the place we want to be. You said it yourself that you were just looking for a friend and even though I'm a woman, I want to be that friend to you and not screw with your head. You are always welcome at my house when you need a place to lay low or just whenever you want to see me and Ken. I will still take care of you when you need me to. You don't have anything to worry about.” She explained.

Grunting extra loud and whining like a child, Andre pushed himself off the mattress and sat up to get eye level with Camila. “Alright.” He agreed somberly. “You do have a point and I respect you for keeping it real with me and setting some boundaries. I understand where you're coming from even though I don’t like it..” He paused with a shake of his head giving her that sad, puppy dog look. “You and Kenja are welcome to come here anytime for whatever reason. You don't have to miss me just because you want to stop by. If y’all miss Kleio or just want a change of scenery, call me.”

They both shook on their new deal and dropped the conversation altogether. It's quite early this morning but a conversation needed to be had.

“What you thinking about now?” He quizzed, turning his tv on for some background noise.

“Everything that can possibly go wrong.” She muttered, sinking low and pulling the comforter up to her chest.

“Nah don't do that. We can't talk about any negative shit this early on mama. No. We already know what we’re doing is wrong and that it could seriously backfire. I’ll go along with your casual friends rule for now. And what I'm about to say next is for insurance reasons only. If somewhere along the way, I fuck up and get myself killed or seriously hurt..I have money for you and my mom to take to help secure both of your futures. No matter what happens to me, I want you three girls to be alright. I've got enough to split between the two of you to set you up real nice for at least five years.” Upon reciting his last sentence Andre fished around for his cellphone.

“Can you not be so morbid this early in the morning? You’ve been hurt enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take over your bathroom.” Reese grumbled, throwing the cover away from her to get out of bed. She snatched one of his hooded sweatshirts off the doorknob and put it on to keep warm. Leaving the bedroom, Camila disappeared into the bathroom to draw herself a bath. With a towel and washcloth set on the rim of the tub, she found some bubble bath under the sink. She poured in three capfuls of bubble mix seeing it mesh with the running water.

“Mama, I need to ask you some-” Dre bursting into the bathroom unannounced took her by surprise.

“Why are you staring at me like some freaky alien from outer space?” She grumbled, standing upright to go put the bubble mix away and brush her teeth.

“I just..um..” He stammered heavily, not able to wipe the image of Camila ass up, face down over the bathtub, from his mind.

Rinsing the toothpaste from her mouth, Reese picked up a clean rag and ran it under water. Laying the towel over her face, Reese stood still feeling the steam heat into her pores.

“How is that you can get all choked up just from seeing me bent over a tub? I'm clothed and in no way am I trying to cause any issues for you.” Reese took the towel from her face and flipped it over to scrub it clean.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I had my dick wet? It’s been way too long girl, too long.” Dre huffed, leaning in the doorway. Waving him off, Reese headed to the bathtub and peeled off the sweatshirt letting it fall around her feet. Dre had all his attention focused on her, taking in as much as he could. “Then maybe you should go get yourself some. There’s plenty of women that would drop their panties in a second of your presence. I’m just saying..” Reese shrugged. “Turn around and cover your eyes. Please.” She requested nicely. Dre turned to face the door and kept his hands over his eyes to show his respect for her privacy. Reese inhaled quietly and removed the remainder of her clothes before easing herself down in the hot water with tons of bubbles. “All clear.” Reese announced, sitting back against the tub. Dre turned around to face her and just stood around with clouded thoughts. “Seriously what the hell is wrong with you?” She said, tying her hair back into a ponytail.

Coming back to reality he walked over to his sink. “What are you talking about?” He grumbled, starting on his morning routine. “The guns in your closet. Must you have them all in one place? And do you have a license to carry them all?” Reese questioned.

“Mama, relax, I have a license to open carry and some of my guns are registered. What do I look like having so many linked to me on record?” Dre defended still at the sink. “Is it with you at all times when you're carrying? They’ve been monitoring that shit carefully lately and I'd hate for you to get caught up. Just be careful.” Reese mumbled, spreading bubbles around with her hands. “Oh and thank you for what you did yesterday. Kenja told me about it once you left. I didn’t want to freak out at first as to why her eyes were red because I knew that would freak you out. But anyway I really appreciate you not letting her get hurt.”

She lowered her body further into the water bringing her legs up to rest her feet on the rim.

“Don’t feel bad for not being there. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I scared her on accident, she slipped and you know the rest. I just followed my first instinct. I could never be the reason she gets hurt because then you’d never trust me and I don't want that.” Smoothing out his goatee, Andre walked over to the tub and took a seat on the corner.

“So tell me what happens if one day we end up at the same place at the same time.. I’m working..you’re working. How do we get through that? Because it’s not like I can just dismiss whatever you’re doing because of our personal relationship.” They haven't discussed any run-in scenarios and now seems like a great time to do that. There are tons of scenarios that could put their friendship at risk and it’s only a matter of time before something happens.

“I haven’t put any thought into that yet. You make some good points but this I don’t have the answer for. But then again I highly doubt you’ll catch me in any compromising situations. I’m another version of my father, I make the orders when he tells me to and I check to make sure every group is doing their job. Very rarely will I get caught up in some shit. Except for when I have orders to kill, that’s a whole different story that I’m not ready to think about.” He answered. Completely unsure if even he believed what he just said.

“Okay first scenario. You’re in the middle of handling a large amount of cash, jewelry or any other inanimate object. We come in because of an anonymous tip off or something. What do you do?” Reese questioned sitting up and using the tub as supper for her arms.

He thought over his words carefully wanting to come back with a sensible response. “For the money, I co-own a gentleman’s club. As for anything else, I have legitimate business partners.”

“Second scenario, someone dies and it's linked back to you. You killed them, we come in..then what?” Reese pushed, resting her chin on her wet arms. Changing his position, Dre sat on the floor beside the tub with his arms resting on his knees. “I’d be out of there before y’all could get in. No ifs, ands, or buts. If I hear sirens, I’m gone. But that’s my usual method anyhow. After I kill, I get the fuck out of there with no questions asked, words spoken, or tears shed. Very simple.” He uttered laying back against the wall. “You have an answer for everything don't you?” She wearily laughed.

“I mean..you can't say I'm not thinking ahead though. I know the type of work I'm involved in is dangerous in every way possible and I know it could be the end of me but I've learned a lot from doing this. Every situation I've been in has made me a wiser man which is who I am today. I don't have all the answers but I can say we’ll never have to meet like that. I promise. And besides, I don’t want that day to come anymore than you do.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. He never broke focus of her while he allowed his thoughts to run wild.

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll have to stop seeing each other like this? As in like, every way, completely.” She asked feeling a bit choked up inside.

“You think too much. You know that?” He chuckled dryly. “Why can’t we just live in the moment and take life as it comes rather than trying to foresee what could possibly go bad?” He countered, shifting. Rising to his feet, he sat atop of the tub, leg propped up on one knee and his elbow supporting his upper body so he could lean it to her. Nodding in silence Camila stared at her surroundings to avoid eye contact. “I should just let it go. I should never think or worry about the consequences? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asked. “No that’s not what I’m saying. All I’m saying is don’t stress about the future or negative shit which by the way has not happened yet. It feels like you’re determining our fate in a bad light and I don’t want that. I’ve already been through so much shit so positivity is my friend. I suck at it sometimes but I’m human and I learn from those mistakes.” He explained thoroughly. “You just worry about Kenny and your whatever else you had going before I stepped into the picture. Let me worry about everything else as it happens ok?” Giving her a gentle smile, Andre reached down and fingered a stray hair hanging in front of her face.

Again she nodded and welcomed his hand to her face. His delicate touch is just enough to ease the worries floating about in her mind. She grabbed his hand and pulled it down to examine the ink. On his right hand is a crow perched on half a branch, spread across from his thumb to his pinky finger. “When did you get these?” Reese quizzed, twisting his arm to view more of his colorless body art. 

“Most I got before I turned twenty.” Dre mumbled looking down at his bare chest. Reese used her other hand to graze her fingers over his neck and chest, studying in total fascination. On both collarbones are big, black ink, eight point stars that represent  a high-ranking thief. Even though Dre gives more orders now, he’s had his hands in every role of the bratva. His inner right forearm has a lighthouse, showing his desire for freedom. Just below that reads the phrase “S.O.S.” in medium size English font. His upper bicep is covered with the image of a skull hiding behind a lifeless tree with no leaves. The remainder of this arm is filled with little words and cartoons in honor if his character and people from his past.

“What does this one mean?” She asked touching the abstract wolf on his chest muscle. The wolf had a menacing smirk on its face with an severed arm hanging from its mouth. She looked closer and saw a wilted rose clutched in the hand.

“This one I got when I was eighteen I believe. I had a friend who was a really bad influence on me up until the day he overdosed on heroin in front of me. That moment right there was when I realized that we always have a choice on whether or not we want to go down the right path or the wrong one. He chose the wrong one obviously but I never fell into temptation with that shit. Anyway, it’s just an honorary peace for him and the life he chose to live. It’s a reminder to myself to never let the darkness pull me too far in to where I can’t control myself.” He explained, gliding his fingers over the wolf’s face before dropping his hand altogether.

“What about the sos on your wrist? What does that stand for?” She continued her interrogation. “It means ‘Spasite Ot Syda’. It’s Russian for save me from judgement.” Dre grabbed Reese’s other hand and linked their fingers together. “Don’t ever judge me for the things I tell you about when we’re not together or the things I do when we are together.” The desperation in his voice held just enough power to make a room full of people understand. “I won’t. I promise.” She vowed, looking squeezing Dre’s hands. The sincerity of the moment called for a little intimacy. Nothing more than an emotional, passion filled kiss that only made things between them more confusing.

“We have to stop doing this. We keep going in circles.” She shook her head in shame and moved back from Dre to sit back in the cold bath water. Dre ran his hands down his face, stood up to leave the bathroom altogether. He shut the door quietly leaving Reese to herself.

CAMILA

Exhaling deeply, I drained the tub and hopped in the shower to actually clean myself up. These talks we’ve been having are really screwing with my head. Us fooling around every few days is screwing with my head too. That's why I suggested we keep our friendship strictly a friendship. I finished up in the bathroom and left to go and check on my baby. I opened the door and stood in the door watching her sleep soundly. Seeing Kenja so comfortable in the home of a man that she barely knows has me wondering. Not a bad worry but a casual worry. What if she gets attached to Andre then he and I don't work out? What am I supposed to tell her?

Kenja got attached to Jess immediately because of often she and I hung out. Kenja has never seen me with a man before not even her own father so this is all new to her. I know she has questions for me that she hasn't asked yet but in due time she will ask them. I stood in the doorway for a bit longer until I started to get cold and I felt my hair dropping onto my feet. Leaving the door cracked I scurried back to Andre’s room and dropped my towel from my body to dry the excess water from my head. I heard the front door closing telling me that he either just walked out or he’s coming back in.

“Mama, can you come here.” I heard Dre call out to me from the living room.

Quickly I slipped into a pair of grey joggers and a white tank top so I could see what he wanted. Opening the door back I walked over to the railing seeing him set a couple of bags down and sit on the couch.

“What’s up?” I spoke up, leaning over the glass with my hair sticking to my arms. “You remember that job I told you I had for you?” Dre asked opening his backpack. “I do.” I nodded. I silently watched on as Dre pulled out six, thick stacks of cash onto his coffee table. “This is it. Come help me? Please?” Dre kindly requested, stopping to make eye contact with me. “Give me two minutes?” I asked pointing to my hair that needs to be tended to. He said ok so I wandered back to the bathroom to brush through my hair and put some product in it. I think today I'll leave it alone as far as a style goes but I do need to put some moisture in it. Like I told him I only needed two minutes. As I was going downstairs I kept an ear out for Kenja in case she called for me. Making it to the bottom I made myself comfortable next to him and Kleio. Dre took out his money counting machine and set it in front of me. Without hesitating, I removed the bands from the cash and placed the stacks into the machine waiting for the numbers to start popping up.

I ran each stack through twice and hand counted everything to ensure I give him the correct number. Seeing a nearby pad and pen I jotted down the total amount of what's he asked me to count today. After that I rounded up the hundred dollar bills using thick rubber bands and lining them up on the table.

“Andre, I’m finished. I ran the stacks through twice and hand counted them after. You got $30,000 right here. What should I do with this?” I asked, zipping up the bag. Writing the date and time on the pad next to the amount I pushed it aside and looked over to see Dre at the window.

Going out on a whim I stood up and walked up behind him cautiously. “Hey..” I said, touching his arm gently so I didn't freak him out. Instead of jumping at the sound of my voice his body relaxed under my touch but he still didn't look at me. “What's wrong?” I asked.

“You know I never pictured myself as a married man or as a father. But now I can see it for the future version of myself. I don’t know who I’ll end up with or how I’m gonna turn out. What I do know is that I don’t want to be alone forever. My mom left Joe and now he’s got no one but his army and random women to keep him company until his final days. I don’t plan on dying on anytime soon and I damn sure want a family of my own at any cost.”  

Taking a heavy breath inward he took a hold of my hand and placed it over his heart. "Everyday since I've been back I’ve been hoping to run into someone who can take my mind off of my troubles and heartache. The sleepless nights, starving daily because I didn’t have money. I was homeless for a minute until I ran to my mom for help. At the time my brother was in New York and before I got help from our mom I was struggling. I actually thought about killing myself a few times. That’s all me. I’m not complaining about my struggles but I’m not proud of them either. All I know is that what I've been through has thickened my skin so much and now I can handle just about anything.” Out of nowhere he turned around swiftly and picked me up off the floor like we just got married or something. He walked over to the couch and sat down with me across his lap just looking at him in shock. “With all that said, I can't stand the thought of losing the people I care about. And that means you and Kenja included. I need all four of you in my life everyday, all day like I need my pills and therapy.” By the time he was done I was crying and I couldn't figure out why.

Maybe I'm feeling emotional because I'm thinking about how different his family’s life would be if he succeeded in suicide. Selfishly I thought about what I'd be doing right now if he wasn't alive. And of course thinking about where Kenja and I would go as a hideout after what happened with Damon is making things worse. “I'm sorry.” I apologized wiping my face and hugging myself to hide my cold, very hard nipples. “You shouldn't have to be alone for the rest of your life. I really like you and I’m curious to see where this could go I'm just so scared.”

“Why are you so afraid of relationships? Does this have anything to do with you or Kenja?” He assumed, rubbing my legs through my pants.

“I feel like I always struggle with this response. Me staying single has to do with her and I but more so her. When I left Damon, I left him mainly because he put his hands on me. He scarred me for life but I feel a little stronger now that he doesn’t have the opportunity to beat on me. And because of what he did to my confidence I fucked around a lot so I could be in control of who I'm fucking and who I choose to keep around. Which obviously isn't anyone. I just sought quick companionship rather than all the strings of getting attached. Now with the recent shit Damon has done to me and my daughter, I’m way more concerned for her safety over mine. I can handle my own but Kenja is just a baby. She can't fight her own battles. That's why she has me. I can't be selfish anymore when it comes to our safety. I've gotta think about her more than myself.” Laying my head on the couch I stared at him longingly.

“What are you looking for in a man?” He asked me.

“I’m looking for a man that Kenja doesn’t have to be afraid of. I want to be with someone who makes her feel comfortable, safe, and loved. A man that will put in as much effort in to keep her happy just like my mom and I do. I want to be with someone who won't throw in my face one day when we’re fighting ‘we'll she’s not my daughter anyhow so why should I care’, I'm not gonna let that fly.”

“I'm talking about you. What does Camila want in a man for herself?” He corrected himself making my head spin. Him crossing his arms over his chest made me laugh because I know he's been dying to ask me this. I mean I do see why he’s asking. I've been with enough dudes to have some type of idea as to what kind of guy I like.

“Camila wants a man who doesn't get scared and run when shit between us gets rough. I don't want to be with a quitter. I want a man who’s going to make me feel safe and actually keep me safe in every aspect of life. I don’t want to provide everything and pull all of the damn weight. I need a man who will take the time to clean up after himself, I shouldn’t have feel like your mom or servant. I shouldn’t have to raise my daughter alone when the truth is that we come as a package deal. If you want me, you have to take my baby girl too. I need a man who won't make my child feel left out and neglected. I want someone who won’t hurt me or make me cry deliberately.” My speech was something I wish I had the balls to tell Damon years ago before we even got serious. But I was young and dumb back then.

“I also want a man to be my friend first so I know he’s not just with me for the sex. I’ve had my fun and now I just want to share myself with one person. I’m tired of flip flopping.“ Yawning into my arm I reached to touch his goatee. It's so perfect and full.

“What you want to do about that?” He mumbled setting his hand over top my head, pressing his fingertips into my scalp.

“I think I want to see where this can go. It’s worth a shot and we’ve been running in circles just chasing each other without really getting anywhere. Our safety and whether you can juggle as much as you are is a concern for me and it will always be. However..” I paused, scratching the couch with my toes. “I like you too and it's kind of hard to stay away from you.” I shrugged trying to play off my emotions.

“So you’re telling me that we can do this for real now? Are you absolutely sure? I don't want you backing out once we get somewhere good.” His playful laugh I took serious because I know what he's looking for.

“I'm positive. You're amazing with Kenja and she's really drawn to you for reasons I don't know. But I guess that doesn't really matter. For once I’d like to just have one man coming in and out of my house and life. I highly doubt there’s anyone else like you out there. And from the picks I've chosen you've been the best one yet.” The sound of crying put me on high alert. I hopped up from his lap running upstairs to check on Kenja. She rarely ever cries so something has got to be wrong. Making it into the room where Kenja was resting in I rushed over to the bed. “Kenja what’s wrong?” I panicked, setting Kenja in my lap. Poor girl couldn’t stop crying as she held onto her left side firmly. “Hablame, nena. Que pasa? Que duele?” I asked, hand taming Kenja’s wild hair. Kleio was sitting by on alert and I could tell she was as confused as I am.

“It hurts mommy.” Kenja hiccupped, not letting go of my arm or her rib cage.

Dre made his way upstairs and into the room. “What happened?” He asked walking over to us.

“I don’t know. All she said is that something hurts but I don’t know where. What do I do?” I frowned, wrapping my arms around Kenja’s back hoping she’ll calm down a little.

“Where does it hurt?” Dre asked kneeling down in front of us. Kenja turned around with tears rolling down her cheeks and her nose running. I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe her nose clean.

“Aqui.” Kenja pointed to the side she was holding. “Can I see?” Dre asked with hesitancy. Kenja nodded to his question and moved her arm, holding onto my left shoulder for support. I wrapped my arm around her back kissing the crown of her head. Dre lifted Kenja’s shirt and before he could speak I caught a glimpse of his eyes wide and in shock.

“No lo toques, por favor. Realmente duele.” Ken sniffled wiping her face. “What is it? What do you see?” I panicked trying to see for myself. Turning her body around I get my jaw drop at how much bigger the bruise has gotten. “What the hell!?” I shrieked, looking closer at the massive bruise on her rib cage.

“What are you talking about? You knew she had this?” Dre spat vemonously. I mean mugged him and put Kenja’s shirt down, hugging her tightly.

“The night Damon was at the house, he pushed her to get to me and she fell. The bruise was the size of a nickel the last time I saw it and I asked her if it hurt and she said no. I did take her to see her pediatrician and she said it should go away within a week or two and how it grew this big I don’t know. I think Damon might have done worse than we anticipated, I have to take her back.” Standing up with Kenja in my arms I left the room to go sit her on the toilet.

“Mommy, am I going back to the doctor?” Kenja sniffled, wiping her nose with the tissue I gave her.

“Yeah we have to. I don't know why the bruise is so big. I gotta make sure you’re okay baby. Take those clothes off, I'm going to find you something to put on.” I instructed, going back into the room to dig through her bag for a casual little outfit for her to wear today along with her baby wipes.

“Hey..” Andre walked over to me, softly grabbing my arm to make me pause and take a breather. “Let me help. I want to.” He plead with soft eyes.

“Can you drive? You’re the only one with a car,  and I need to call and see if her pediatrician is in today.” I said hugging him for a second. It means a lot that he wants to help out in some way.

“Let me go put this money away and get dressed. How much did you say you counted?” He asked, rubbing the center of my back making me melt at the pressure fading from the area.

“$30,000.” I moaned, stepping back to grab Kenja’s clothes and go back to the bathroom. I sat her night clothes on the floor so I could wash her up while she got started on cleaning her face and brushing her teeth.

“Mommy? Why did Damon hurt me?” Kenja asked, bending over to spit in the sink. When she came back up I took her toothbrush and set it aside to give her the mouthwash.

“He’s just a really bad man baby. I won’t let him hurt you anymore that's a promise on my life.” I quickly wiped the stray tear falling down my face to finish dressing Kenja. After I had her clothes straightened out I grabbed her sandals and took her with me to the other room.

Knocking on the door I smoothed down her flyaway curls thinking of what I could do to her hair in a few minutes. “I have Ken with me, can we come in?” I spoke, knocking once more.

Dre opened up the door and stepped back to let the let us in the room, that was now cleaned to perfection.

“What’s on his arms and his neck?” Kenja questioned playing with her hair. “They’re tattoos, like drawings but they don’t go away.” After sitting Kenja on Dre’s bed, I went to search for a bra to put on. I slipped into a pair of sandals as well. Dre was getting dressed and throwing some random shit in a small duffel bag. I do see a gun and from there I decided I wouldn't speak on what he's bringing.

With my spray bottle and hairbrush I sat behind Kenja to brush her hair up into a ponytail. I'm not in the mood to style her hair in depth and I know she's not either. Once her hair was done I too threw some random shit in a bag. I needed to make sure I have the insurance card, my license and Kenja’s social security card for check in. Together we all left and got settled in Andre’s car since I don't have my own. When I looked at the time on my phone I was stunned that it's only half past ten. It's a warm Saturday morning yet the roads are clear as ever.

“Where am I headed?” Dre asked getting on the freeway. “Medical City. Thank you for coming with me, I really appreciate it.” I turned around to check on Kenja seeing her zoned out. She had her eyes on the outside world with her legs crossed and her fingers tapping against her shorts. “You’re welcome. What are you gonna do if something is wrong with her?” He asked, switching lanes and speeding past two cars.

“I’m hoping that nothing is wrong but we’ll never know until she sees her doctor. I’ll most likely just feel heartbroken that her own father would do this to her. She never deserved the treatment she’s received but me..I should’ve seen something coming.” Throwing my body back on the seat I stared at the other cars in nearby lanes. “This is all my fault.” I sighed pathetically.

“Stop. This isn't your fault. You didn't hurt her so why would you even say that? Don't blame yourself for his mistakes. Damon is a grown ass man who fucked up two very perfect relationships because he was insecure. He’s the one in the wrong mama, not you and not Kenja.” He argued.

Walking behind the nurse I led Kenja over to the bed and sat her on top, setting my bag down in one of the chairs.

“I'm surprised y’all are back so soon. What's going on?” The nurse asked getting the computer fired up.

“Yeah we are. Kenja’s bruise tripled in size this morning and we don't know why.” I said, standing next to Kenja so she could poke and prod at me like a science experiment. Kenja never lets me leave her side when we come to the doctor. Whether we come here because of mine or her health, I have to stay at arm's length of her. After I had her I brought her here for frequent checkups to ensure she was never sick. I was always so fearful that she caught something from when I was pregnant with her but thankfully she did not. The nurse took all of Ken’s vitals and checked her height and weight. She asked us some questions and took a look at the bruise for herself. We talked for a little and then she left to go find Dr. Greene.

The door opened up and in walked Kenja’s doctor all smiles as always.

“You guys must really like seeing me.” Denise teased playfully. She shut the door and came to sit at the computer.

“We really do but this time wasn't supposed to result in a visit. Tell her what's wrong nena.” Running my hand over her ponytail I watched Kenja fidget and hold her side.

“It really hurts.” Kenja muttered, rubbing her nose.

“What hurts Kenja?” Dr. Greene pressed, relaxing in her chair. Kenja pointed to her side and kicked her legs up repeatedly. “That little bruise on Kenja’s ribs is now bigger and darker. I think something on the inside is wrong and I don’t know what.” I clarified knowing Kenja wasn’t going to say much.

“Let’s take a look shall we.” I stood by Kenja’s side while Dr. Greene looked at her rib cage in shock.

“Camila, did you ice her ribs after you came to see me? Ya know to help the swelling go down.” Dr. Greene softly ran her fingers over Kenja’s ribs to take another look.

“Uh, for a little bit yeah. Kenja wasn’t a big fan of the ice pack and she kept throwing them away after I told her she needed it. After that I had forgotten to go and buy more ice packs. This is my fault isn’t?” I  groaned looking at Kenja’s bruise again.

“Don’t put all the blame on you. Part is little miss Kenja’s fault for throwing the ice pack away. What’s that about?” Dr. Greene pinched Kenja’s cheeks making her laugh. “Ice is cold, I didn’t like it.” Kenja hung her head in shame while eyeballing me from the corner of her eye. Dr. Greene made a few suggestions as to what she can do to help. Right now she’s going to bring in another doctor to get his opinion on things. All I want is for my baby to be alright.

Dr. Greene came back with one of her colleagues who's been here longer than she has and so far so good. Kenja zoned them out to play games on my phone as a distraction. I know she hates being here but I can't ignore her pain because she doesn't like doctors. A knock on the door made my eyebrows knit together at who’s wanting to come in. Dr. Greene stood up and pulled the door back and was staring Andre in his face.

“Yes sir, how can I help you?” She asked opening the door wider. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing was coming out. I figured he was trying to come up with something smooth to say so I jumped in to save him. “Dr. Greene it's okay, that's my boyfriend. He was trying to find a place to park.” She stood aside without an issue to let Andre in. The minute his back was to the doctors he gave me this almighty look of relief. I laughed a bit and moved my purse to make room for him.

“Have trouble parking the car?” I asked trying to keep up our play.

“Yeah little bit.” He nodded. He sat back against the wall careful not to bump the gun I know he's carrying in the back of his pants. He stretched his arm out prompting me to lean forward so he could get more comfortable with me under his arm. “It didn't feel right not being in here with y’all.” He whispered ever so smoothly into my ear, touching my shoulder with his dangling hand.

My heart began to thud in my chest at how much that made me weak. My mom always told me to pay close attention to a man who really wants to be with you. He's going to show all the right signs and really put in the work to let you know you’re worth his time. And this is one of those moments. He’s telling me in every way that I'm worth his time. That my daughter is worth his time. I really want to kiss him but because we have three pairs of eyes on us and our conversation from this morning, I settled for holding his hand.

Kenja even played along because she knows I'd be upset with her for calling Andre by his name. They didn't speak to each other, Andre picked up her feet and set them across his knees to show physical affection.

“So Camila, there are two options we can go with. I can either set up a room for Kenja to get an x-ray to see if there’s any internal damage done from her fall. Or I can prescribe her an NSAID. Which is simply Ibuprofen. For a child her age I would prescribe 150 mg three times a day.” Dr. Greene doctor recommended, spinning around in her chair to look at us.

“Can you set up the x-ray for her? It's best we see how bad the damage is now rather than waiting for it to get worse.” I said looking down at Kenja who was nose deep in my phone playing candy crush. I could hear the sounds of the game as I replayed the night of her fall in my head.

“X-ray it is.” Dr. Greene typed some stuff in the computer, logged off and walked out with her colleague.

“You were lonely out there weren’t you?” I laughed, looking over at Dre who was staring at the floor.

“A little bit yeah. Thank you for saving me. I couldn't find the right words to say.” He chuckled, toying with Kenja’s sandal strap.

“I thought you could use a little help.” Leaning over I kissed his cheek as a sign of admiration and appreciation on her behalf. I discreetly nodded to Kenja asking him if she was looking and he shook his head no. Quickly and quietly I gave him a real kiss for my own selfish benefit. Pulling back from him I bit down on my lip to slow the blush formation in my cheeks.

“Mami te besa!” Kenja exclaimed out of nowhere. Slowing turning to her I felt my cheeks grow hot from embarrassment that she snuck a glance. I had a feeling she was going to see at the last minute. Attacking her face with kisses I started laughing at how squirmy she was. “Mom..okay..okay I'm sorry!” She giggled, kicking her legs trying not to kick Dre in his chin.

“You weren't supposed to be watching.” Shaking my head I looked over at the door just as it opened.

"The room is all set. Here's a nightgown for her to put on. Follow me and I'll take you to a room that she can privately change in.” The doctor led us all down the hall to the x-ray lab that was cold as hell. Andre stood outside while I helped Kenja get changed so she could get this over with.

“Mommy, do you like him?” She asked, as I tied the string around her waist.

“Si bebe, me gusta.” Sniffling, I walked out of the little room with Kenja holding my hand. I gave her my love so Dr. Greene could get her set up for this x-ray. As they got started I felt my chest getting heavy. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I know it's just an x-ray but we wouldn't be here if her bitch-ass of a father didn't put his hands on her. “This shit is not fair. She doesn't deserve this.” I sniffled looking at Kenja pat her abdomen as the little screen move side to side. 

Andre put his arm around me showing me the comfort I was longing for. “Don't worry about it. I'll take care of him.” Dre muttered angrily. He pulled me in and held me tighter.

I can't wait for Damon to get what's coming to him for what he did to Kenja. I hope Dre shows him no mercy for all the evil shit he's put me and my baby through.

The x-ray went well. None of her organs are out of place but she does have a soft tissue injury. Kenny has a grade one sprain so she’ll be just fine. Dr. Greene gave us some compresses to apply over her rib cage when the pain starts to be too much. She told us that Kenja needs to rest and keep ice handy for the swelling. All in all she should be good as new in a couple of weeks if we do everything correctly. I didn't want to start her on pain medication at six years old. Her body will develop the like and need for it and I won’t condone fiend behavior especially not for my child. She won't become a drug pusher on my watch. Once we left the hospital I had Andre go to my house so he could see how much damage was done.

The minute I pushed the front door back, his jaw dropped. He said he understood why we stayed at that hotel for a week. The house was trashed from the fight I had with Damon. My living room has glass on the floor and my couch pillows are thrown everywhere. One of them ripped leaving the cotton to just spout out from the side. The big couch is no longer in one piece, some of the pictures on the walls are broken leaving glass all over the carpet. The kitchen has some broken dishes and my plant was knocked over with dirt surrounding the pot. Now my bedroom had the most damage done to it. The wall my bed is against had a nice message that Damon wrote just for me. “A hoe can never be a wife or a good mother” Damon wrote in bold letters spray painted red. I broke down the minute I read the message. I ran out of the room to go throw up from the memories making me so upset.

Kenja stayed at the dining room table the whole time Andre finishing touring the house. After I pulled myself back together he helped me clean up around here and take some trash out. It took us well over two hours to make the house decent and then we fell asleep on the couch that’s still standing. We forgot all about Kenja being here. When I woke up I saw Dre rushing outside with his gun drawn and ready. That alone scared me and had me thinking that Damon was back. I packed up some more of our things to bring with us since I'm still not ready to come back here. By the time we got back to Dre’s it was going on ten o'clock and Kenja was getting sleepy and very cranky.

Penelope, Dre’s across the hall neighbor, came through with dinner which was a major bonus. I was just glad I didn't have to cook. I allowed Dre to put Kenja to bed after I bathed her and got out an ice pack. Kenja started to complain that her ribs were hurting so I had to get her into bed quickly.

I finished my shower for the night and changed into a pajama set doing my hair in a sluggish manner. I'm tired as hell. Today wore me out in more ways than one. Turning off the bathroom light I buttoned up my shirt and pushed up my sleeves to go check on Kenja. I opened the door to see her sleeping with her giraffe clutched in her hand for dear life. Kleio was next to her, sleeping soundly as well. Leaving them be I walked over to the railing seeing Dre write.

“You’re creeping on me in my own house?” He asked turning to a new page. Smiling at his question I trotted down to the living room to stand behind the couch. Leaning down with my arms around his neck, I rested my chin on his shoulder.

“So do you write in this daily?” I asked, kissing his temple.

“I try to. Z says it’s good to write as much as I can.” He sighed. “Someone smells good.” He mumbled, picking up my hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you. And thank you again for being me today, it mean a lot to have you with me during Kenja’s doctor visit and coming to the house with me. I haven’t been back there since the fight and I’m just not comfortable yet.” Keeping my eyes out of his book I turned my face inward to press my nose against his neck.

“It was nothing, I wanted to be there for you guys.” Dre ushered for me to take a seat so I did, right in his lap. “You don't have to go home until you’re ready. If I have to drive there every morning so you can get ready for work then that's what I'll do. If I have to stay here with Kenja until you get off I’ll do that too. I will do whatever you want me to. I want you to be safe at all times and I'm the only person that can guarantee that.” Dre set his book aside and toyed with the braid that was hanging down from my shoulder.

Now that we’re alone I took a risk and finished expressing my appreciation for him and his kindness. I started off keeping the moment as innocent as I could but my hormones took over my brain once again. “Wait..” I exhaled deeply shivering from the air hitting my chest. Dre moved so smoothly I hadn't noticed how many buttons he had undone in such a short span of time. His hands were on my thighs creeping toward my inner thighs now that shorts are out of the way. My top is long enough for me to walk around dressed only in this and I can still be covered up.

He laid his head on my chest and dragged both hands down my ribs to my hips. I’m a sucker for a man with strong hands. Inside I was writhing in agony at how much I want him but I can't. I can't have him tonight. This can't happen.

“What are you going to do to him?” I asked, shuddering at the feel of his lips touching my collar bone. Dre sat back against the couch still gripping my hips with a blank look to his face.

“Do you really want to know?” He countered with heavy set eyes. I know he's upset but I am too. He's not alone.

“I guess not.” I sighed, giving him the okay to do something to make up for us not having sex tonight. I was under complete submission as he catered to my body in the most sensual and gentle way. Hopefully us taking our friendship further will be worth it. We might as well push forward. It's not like we can take away the attraction that's been there since the night we met. And there's no way I can just cut him off and keep him away from me.

[1misstherooftop-blog]

What’s the Scoop

Read on ao3

Summary: Davey works at an ice cream shop that Jack frequents

Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly

Warnings: mentions of vomiting

Word Count: 5827

There was nothing cold about New York City in July. Everything simmered in the heat. Concrete sidewalks singed the feet of barefoot children, buildings groaned as the sun beat down all day. People exited theaters into the sweltering head, wiping at the sweat that beaded their foreheads.

Nothing in all of New York compared to the boy who walked into What's The Scoop at precisely 2:35 pm.

Davey had been blissfully unaware of the heat until then. He was surrounded by ice cream, the temperature of the store at least twenty degrees colder than it was outside.

The door swung open, the bell tinkling, to let in the prettiest boy David had ever seen. His hair was dark and unruly under a beanie (in ninety degree heat!), his arms bare in a ridiculous tank top. Davey wasn't even fazed by his cargo shorts, he was so distracted by his perfect face.

He blamed the sudden heat creeping across his cheeks on the gust of warm air from the open door.

"Hi, welcome to What's the Scoop," Davey greeted him. "You can order when you're ready."

The boy nodded, staring at the menu. "Can I just get a milkshake?"

"What flavor?"

"All of them."

Davey glanced up from the cash register. The boy was deadly serious. Davey cleared his throat. "Can I, uh, can I get a name for that?"

The boy squinted at him. "Is this a new policy? Ha, it's like Starbucks."

Davey laughed awkwardly. How was he supposed to explain that he just wanted to know the boy's name? He didn't say anything, just looked at the guy expectedly.

"Oh, yeah! It's Jack."

Davey scribbled the name on the cup. He could feel his face getting red. He scooped the ice cream in a rush, the cool air fighting back his blush. Jack watched him struggle to scoop the more frozen ice creams.

"No one ever buys these flavors," Davey explained, finally prying out a scoop of ice cream.

Jack smiled. Davey's heart lurched. He would do anything to see that smile again. "Guess I'll have to come in more often."

Davey could've cried with happiness. He chuckled instead, blending the milkshake. It turned an off brown color that kind of matched Jack's pants. "Here's your milkshake, Jack." Davey hoped he didn't say Jack's name in a creepy way. He really just wanted to say Jack's name.

Jack took it, still grinning. "Thank you. How much?" He had his wallet open, staring at Davey expectedly.

Davey waved him off. "Don't bother. You're cleaning out the flavors no one eats."

Davey told himself it was the heat that colored Jack's cheeks pink. "Thank you," he said again. He pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet and a colored pencil. He scribbled something on the bill.

"Isn't It illegal to write on money?" David asked. He didn't know if he was more impressed by Jack drawing on currency or by Jack having a blue colored pencil in his wallet.

Jack held a finger up to his lips. He dropped the bill in the tips jar, winking at Davey. He pulled some sunglasses out of his pocket, putting them on. Davey didn't know how he managed to make that look hot. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too." Davey managed. Jack left, back into the heat. Davey slumped against the counter, his face in his hands.

"I'm fucked," he muttered. He reached into the tip jar blindly, scared to remove his hands from his face. He pulled the money out, peering at it through his fingers. Jack had written his number across Lincoln's face.

The bell rang, another customer ducking in out of the heat. Davey straightened immediately. He could deal with Jack after work.

The next week was somehow even hotter. Davey had taken to sitting in the freezer between customers to escape the heat. He'd fallen asleep there Monday and jerked awake when the bell rung.

Jack, in all of his sweaty and masculine glory, had been leaning on the counter, grinning at Davey as he hurried to the cash register.

"Same as last time?" Davey had teased. Jack had laughed, shaking his head. "Can you add toppings?"

Davey had made a tiny noise of horror but obliged.

The next few days were all Jack. He came in around 2:30 each time. Davey had taken to setting an alarm on his phone so he could lay in the freezer with no risk of missing Jack.

His phone buzzed on cue, jerking Davey out of his half asleep state. He scrambled to his feet, adjusting his uniform to not be wrinkled.

It took three minutes for Jack to arrive. He lit up the moment he spotted Davey, his smile blinding.

"Heya, Dave," he said, leaning his hands on the counter. Davey was pretty sure if there wasn't a wall between them Jack would be much closer, an arm around his shoulders maybe, their sides pressed close. Davey really wished there wasn't a wall between them.

"Heya, Jack" Davey echoed back. "Same as last time?" He asked.

"Nah," Jack said, distracted. He was staring at the menu posted to the wall, his face squished with concentration. "Can I get a large vanilla cone? I didn't know you had soft serve here."

"Oh, yeah, we do." Davey grabbed a cone, expertly swirling the top.

Jack whistled. "You're a pro."

Davey shrugged. "I'm here a lot. You get good at it after a while."

Jack nodded. "I was wondering about that. Why are you always the only one here?"

Davey was stumped for a moment. He did not want to explain to Jack that he had been picking up shifts so he could see Jack everyday. "Not a lot of employees and I'm not very busy." Davey said instead, shrugging.

Jack nodded. He accepted the cone from Davey, immediately biting into it. Davey almost yelled. Of course Jack bit into ice cream. Of course Davey was falling ridiculously hard for a ridiculous boy.

Jack sat down at the stools near Davey. He was devouring the ice cream, grinning at Davey between bites. Davey smiled back. He smiled a lot more when Jack was around.

"Question," Jack said, munching on his cone.

"Hit me," Davey said, toweling off the counter.

"Why haven't you texted me?" Jack was looking at Davey with his intense eyes. Davey couldn't tell what color they were but he wanted to find out.

Davey fidgeted a little bit. He didn't have a good excuse. He had already put Davey in his phone as a contact, but every time he opened a message to text him he chickened out. He wanted to ask Sarah for advice but she had been too busy with Katherine.

"I, uh" I have horrible anxiety and you're so pretty I can't text you "I've been watching my little brother a lot and haven't gotten a chance." Davey winced at his own lie.

Jack popped the rest of his cone into his mouth, nodding. "Okay. How old is your brother?"

Davey was immensely pleased that Jack had dropped it. "He's nine, but if you ask he'll say ten."

Jack laughed. "They're cuter the younger they are."

Davey nodded. "Do you have any siblings."

"Uh, yeah." Jack scrubbed at his hand with a napkin. "I've got a foster brother, Spot. We grew up together."

"That's cool, I always wished Les was a little older."

"Spot and I are close." Jack stood, pushing his stool in. "So, are you watching Les tonight."

Davey squeaked a little. "No, actually." He couldn't lie again.

Jack beamed. "I'll be waiting on a text then."

Davey forced himself to laugh. Jack left, waving as he went.

Davey spent the rest of his shift trying to think of something to say. He didn't know how to text someone you were interested in. What if he screwed it up?

The moment his shift was over he dug his phone out of his pocket, dialing Sarah.

"What's up?" She asked the moment she picked up.

Davey pressed the phone to his ear to hear her, shouldering his bag to walk home. "Did I tell you about Jack?"

"Hm? No, I don't think so." Sarah's voice became muffled. "Kath! Did Davey tell us about Jack?"

Davey didn't hear Katherine's response. "She says no. Who is he?"

Davey took a deep breath. "He's a guy who keeps coming into my work. He's really nice and pretty and he left his number."

Sarah cooed. "Have you texted him?"

"That's the problem," Davey said, exasperated. "I don't know what to say, I'm too nervous."

"Oh, don't stress out, you're fine, Dave." Sarah's voice was soft. "He wouldn't give you his number if he didn't like you."

Davey nodded even though she couldn't see him. "What should I say?"

"Something casual. Just say 'hey'."

"'Just say hey'." Davey mimicked. "Is that even casual? What if he takes it the wrong way?"

"What other way can he take it?"

"I don't know!?" Davey sighed. "Ask Katherine."

"Dave, are you kidding me?"

"Ask Katherine."

"David."

"Ask her."

"I'm not- hey!" Davey heard a slight scuffle. "Hey, Davey." Katherine said, sounding breathless.

"Help me what do I text a cute boy?"

"A cute boy- back off he asked for me- have you tried just saying hey?"

Davey could hear an exasperated noise from Sarah. "You're no help either!" He was whining. "I hope you two are happy."

Katherine laughed. "Sorry, Davey it's fool proof. You can't go wrong with hey."

Davey sighed. "Fine. Whatever you two say." He reached his apartment, digging in his pocket for keys. "I hope you're happy."

"Just text him! You'll be fine," Katherine promised. Davey heard her hand the phone off the Sarah. "We've gotta go now, I love you. Tell me how it goes."

"I love you, too," Davey grumbled. The call ended. He dropped his phone into his pocket. Davey groaned, opening his door and slinking inside. He toed out of his shoes and threw himself onto his couch.

His phone was an accusatory weight, pulling him closer to hell. He gave in, yanking it from his jeans.

Jack's contact info was already pulled up. He tapped the message button, wincing as it pulled up his keyboard. What was he supposed to say? Sarah's voice was insistent in his ear 'just say hey'. Davey hated to admit his sister was right.

'Hey' he typed. He pounded the send button before he would regret it. The moment it flashed delivered he dropped his phone in panic. That was a bad idea.

He picked his phone back up, opening Google to search how to delete messages from someone else's phone. He groaned when nothing useful came up.

Davey threw himself back onto his couch, balancing his phone on his face so the screen was over his eyes. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. This was fine. He was totally fine.

The screen lit up, bright through Davey's closed eyelids.

He snapped upright, scrambling for his phone.

'Hey! This is David, yeah?'

Davey groaned. Why didn't he say so in the first place???

'Yeah! Sorry. It's David.'

The typing bubble popped up right away. Davey was terrified and excited at the same time.

'Cool!! Nice to hear from you! What are you up to?'

Not laying on the couch moping about texting. 'Nothing much, you?'

'I'm eating dinner with Spot, actually. And his boyfriend. They're being gross.'

Davey laughed. He could do this, this was easy. 'Do you like his boyfriend at least?'

'Race? Yeah! I love him'

Davey dropped his phone in shock. At this rate it would be fracked by the time he went to bed. He scrambled to pick it back up, his fingers tripping over the keys to answer Jack. 'Race!? As in Antonio Higgins?'

'HIS NAME IS ANTONIO!?' Jack kept typing, clearly not done. 'HE WOULDN'T TELL ME! THIS IS WONDERFUL!!!! HOW DO YOU KNOW??'

'He's a friend of mine. I've known him since before he was Race.'

'Oh my god! I'm asking him about you'

Davey regretted his choices. He and Race had been friends a very long time. He had no idea what kind of crap Race could tell Jack. How many embarrassing stories that would ruin Davey's chances with Jack.

The typing bubble popped up on Davey's screen. 'He got really excited and he says hi. He also said 'save me' but I promise he's fine.'

Davey sat up on his couch. He was thanking every god that Race hadn't started rambling.

'What are You doing to him?'

'I'm just eating.'

Davey had a feeling "Just eating" for Jack was different than other peoples definitions. 'Eating what?'

The typing bubble popped up then went away. Jack didn't seem to want to admit it.

'Jack. What are you eating?'

Jack answered this time. 'Spaghetti that Race made.' There was a pause, then another text. 'Have You seen the movie Elf?'

Davey groaned. 'You did not.'

'I did.'

Davey was tempted to block Jack. Instead he answered 'I side with Race here. Your eating habits are terrible.'

'Excuse You I eat what tastes good.'

Davey laughed out loud. 'you do not! You had a milkshake that was every flavor!'

Jack sent a frowny face. 'How about we make a deal?'

'Okay....' Davey said, trying to convey his hesitance. 'What deal?'

'Tomorrow, I pick your ice cream, you pick mine. We both see what the other considers good.'

Davey considered. All he really had to lose was his good health. 'Okay. Deal.'

'Yes!' Davey smiled at Jack's excitement. 'Shit, gotta go, Race is bringing more food.'

'See you.' Davey said. Jack didn't respond. Davey hoped Race had forgiven him for the spaghetti.

Davey got ready for bed, his heartbeat already skipping in anticipation for tomorrow.

Davey was having trouble breathing. It was 2:34 and Jack had yet to arrive. He had spent his shift so far planning what to give Jack. Something simple but not wimpy. Something with flavor but not to Jack's extent. He thought a traditional caramel brownie sundae was enough. He wasn't ready to see what Jack would make for him.

The bell rang in the middle of his musing. His head jerked up. It was Jack. He almost jumped over the counter but managed to stay still.

"You ready?" Jack asked, leaning on the counter with his elbows. He looked eager.

Davey grimaced. "I'm ready. Are you going first?"

"Hell yeah!" Jack put his palms flat on the counter. "I'm coming over."

"You're what?!" Davey squeaked, making no move to stop Jack.

Jack launched himself over the counter, landing next to Davey. "I've never been on this side before."

Davey spluttered. "Employees are allowed back here not you."

Jack shrugged. "Dave, it's gotta be a surprise. Let the master do his work."

Davey sighed. He handed a spoon to Jack. Jack beamed at him.

"I need you to turn around."

Davey turned around. He was regretting a lot of things. Agreeing to do this with Jack, applying for this job, moving out of his parents' home, being born.

He could hear Jack moving around, struggling to scoop ice cream and rustling through the toppings.

"If another customer comes in I'm screwed," Davey pointed out.

Jack laughed. "How many other people come in besides me?"

Davey didn't answer. People just tended to wander in. Some days he only saw one person, some days entire baseball teams piled in. He figured Jack was talking about regulars. So far Jack was the only one.

"It's your turn." Jack sounded triumphant.

Davey turned, hoping to see the ice cream. No such luck. Jack was hiding it behind his back, grinning deviously.

Davey closed his eyes for a second, accepting that this was happening. He scooped ice cream efficiently, piling it into a bowl. He added brownie crumble and caramel, perhaps with a little flourish because he knew Jack was watching. He hadn't asked Jack to turn around.

Jack whooped when Davey finished. "Come eat with me," he said, hopping back over the counter, somehow managing to keep the ice cream out of Davey's sight. He sat down in one of the stools, looking at Davey expectedly.

"You mean sit there with you?" Davey asked. His hand was cold from holding the ice cream.

"Yeah. Come on, take a break. Enjoy some ice cream with me."

Davey knew he wasn't getting out of this one. He clamored over the counter with much less grace than Jack, finally settling in a chair next to him.

Jack slid the cup of ice cream to Davey. "I made my speciality. I call it the Taste of New York."

Davey looked at the ice cream. It looked like someone had thrown up in a cup, which was sort of appropriate for New York. "What is it? It looks horrible."

Jack made a hurt noise. "Excuse you, Mr. Perfect Scoops. We aren't all naturally inclined to make pretty ice cream."

"I mean what are the flavors, Jack."

"Oh, right. It's mint chip, rocky road, and lemon sorbet. With caramel syrup and also strawberry. But don't worry, I complimented that with cherries and sprinkles."

Davey blinked hard. He could do this. He picked up a spoon, digging in to get some of everything. Jack watched Davey eat it. The concoction touched his tongue. He gagged.

"Oh, come on!" Jack threw his hands up. "It isn't that bad!"

"No, no," Davey forced himself to take another bite. "I'm just lactose intolerant, it takes a bit for me to force it down."

"Shit what!? Dave, you can't eat that! Why are you working here?" Jack reached for the ice cream.

"It's good pay," Davey protested. He pulled his ice cream away from Jack. "Plus I don't care. At all. I'll eat this whole thing to prove it."

Jack looked a little bit scared. "Can I have mine at least before you drop dead?"

Davey handed Jack his sundae. Jack cheered. "Brownies!"

Davey used every bit of his willpower to continue eating his ice cream, watching as Jack devoured his. The final spoonful was like cement, crawling down Davey's throat.

This wasn't going to end well. Davey scrambled for trash can, spitting out the last bit of ice cream. He could feel his stomach rejecting it but he forced it down. He kept his head down, coughing and trying to get the taste of lemon sorbet out of his mouth.

"It wasn't that bad!" Jack protested, putting his now empty cup down.

"Yeah, no, it was fine. My body just didn't want to try and digest that." Davey's head was spinning a little bit. He blinked till his vision was straight. "Are you happy?"

Jack grinned. "I'm overjoyed. Don't you understand the pleasures in live you've been missing out on?"

Davey wasn't sure throwing up ice cream was a pleasure. He did think Jack was one.

"Yeah, I think I get it." Davey pushed his empty cup into the trash.

Jack stood, quite suddenly.

"Are you leaving?" Davey asked, standing as well.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I uh-I gotta go visit Spot."

Davey sort of didn't want Jack to leave. He nodded anyways. "Okay. Have fun. Don't ruin his food."

Jack nodded, looking distracted. He looked at Davey, his eyes wide. Quickly, before Davey could really take in what was happening, he grabbed Davey's hand, leaned forward, and kissed Davey. It was fast, barely a brush of his lips. Davey gagged.

Jack winced, still holding Davey's hand. "Not the reaction I like hearing."

Davey cleared his throat, extremely aware of the heat creeping up his cheeks. "No, that was the lactose. I mean, that was really nice, but I might puke on you."

Jack's face broke into a grin. "Thank god, I was worried there. Tomorrow then?"

Davey smiled at him. "Yeah, tomorrow."

Jack squeezed his hand before dropping it. The bell rang sadly as Jack disappeared outside.

Davey dove for his phone, scrambling back over the counter. He was dialing Sarah before he was even steady on his feet.

"He kissed me!" Davey yelped the moment Sarah picked up.

"He what!?" She was immediately as excited as Davey.

"He kissed me!" Davey took a breath. "It wasn't actually great, I sort of gagged, but he wanted to kiss me again!"

"Wait, you gagged?" Sarah laughed. "Was it that bad?"

Davey groaned. "No, he made me eat this horrible ice cream concoction."

"You're lactose intolerant!" Sarah sounded much more worried than Davey thought she should be.

"It's okay." Davey's stomach was rolling again at the memory. "I think I threw most of it up."

"Oh my gosh, David! I don't care about Jack anymore are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I need you to tell me how I can get him to kiss me again."

Sarah laughed again. "Come on, can't you just kiss him?"

Davey snorted. "No, never, the thought makes me want to throw up again."

Sarah sighed. "You're being dramatic."

Davey groaned. "You sound like mom. You know I'm not good at initiating things. Do you think he's going to kiss me or not?"

"Hm, that depends. What did he say to you before he left?"

"Um, he was kinda upset I gagged then I told him it was just the lactose and he said good and that he'd be back tomorrow."

Sarah cheered loudly in Davey's ear. "He said tomorrow!? Oh, Davey, he definitely wants to kiss you. I'm so happy look at my bro, getting all the cute boys." She sounded like she was sniffling.

"Calm down." Davey said, smiling a little bit. "Do you want me to call you after work tomorrow and tell you how it goes?"

"Yes! Please, I'll be awake all night thinking about it. I'm gonna tell Katherine, oh this is so exciting. I'm so proud of you!"

Davey was grinning now. "Thanks, Sarah. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too! I'll have my phone on all night don't make me wait."

Davey laughed as the call ended. He was glad Sarah believed in him because he definitely didn't believe in himself. He almost wanted to call in sick tomorrow. The idea of seeing Jack again was making him anxious. Sure, he really wanted to see Jack again, but he didn't want to be a disappointment. He didn't think he was good enough for Jack. He knew Sarah would be mad at him for thinking like that. He shook it off, exhaling hard. It was going to be fine.

Jack showed up at 2:42 looking frazzled. Davey had been chewing nervously at his nails since 2:00 and by the time Jack flew through the door he had bitten his nails down to stubs.

"Dave! Give me your best banana split." Jack was grinning as he sat down.

Davey worked quickly, loading extra ice cream on for Jack. Jack watched him the whole time, his chin propped on his hands. Davey simultaneously wanted to kiss him and run out the back door.

He gave Jack his ice cream instead, waving off his money.

"You can pay me back a different way," Davey said, completely forgetting to think for a moment.

Jack's eyes lit up. "How's that?" He asked.

Davey gulped. He may have fucked up right there. He figured it was too late to go back now. He leaned over the counter, grabbing Jack by the collar of his shirt. Jack squeaked a little bit but let Davey pull him closer. Their lips met sloppily, Davey too nervous to actually kiss him.

He pulled back quickly, trying to gauge Jack's reaction. Jack looked overjoyed. They stared at each other for a moment, Jack beaming at Davey. He finally reached for Davey, pulling him back in.

It was a much nicer kiss now. Jack's lips were insistant on Davey's and slightly chapped. Davey really didn't want to stop kissing him. He also didn't want another costumer to come in.

He pulled away, lingering too closely to Jack for a moment. He finally leaned back over the counter, waiting for Jack to speak.

Jack whined instead. "Come on you can't just kiss me like that and then go back to work," he complained. His eyes were wide and pleading with Davey.

Davey felt his heart lurch. Jack actually liked him. Sarah was going to be so proud.

"Yes I can," Davey said, unusually bold.

Jack gloomily took a bite of his ice cream. "Do I get another kiss?" He asked, chewing on the spoon.

Davey considered it. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Jack senseless, forgetting his job and his responsibilities in favor of getting lost in the feeling of kissing Jack.

"Finish your ice cream." Davey said instead.

Jack finished the sundae in record time, almost choking in his rush.

Davey was nervous again. He had gotten too cocky. He didn't know what to do now, he hadn't planned that far ahead. Jack took care of the choice for him. He stood, kissing Davey intently. Davey kissed him back, aware of both the fact that he was still at work and that he didn't want to stop this time.

He let Jack end the kiss, sighing as their lips parted.

Jack sat back down, leaving Davey leaning over the counter. "You working tomorrow?" He asked.

Davey blinked a few times, trying to focus on how to function again. "Huh?" He asked. His voice sounded scratchy. He cleared hes throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm working."

Jack stood, tossing out his ice cream cup. "Cool! I'll see you then."

Jack reached for Davey's hand, giving it a quick squeeze before he left.

Davey waited till the door was closed and grabbed his phone. Sarah answered in one ring, sounding breathless.

"What happened tell me everything!" She half yelled.

Davey laughed giddily. "I kissed him! I actually kissed him!"

Sarah cheered. "Look at you! You're telling me he didn't initiate the kiss?"

"No, I did. It wasn't great but then he kissed me again and it was amazing."

"I'm proud." Sarah sounded very excited. "And I'm happy you're happy. I'm telling Katherine now."

Davey heard her yell for Katherine and quickly tell her what had happened.

Katherine spoke suddenly. "David Jacobs I'm so proud of you," she said.

Davey couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you, Katherine. Are you on speaker?"

"Yes!" Sarah answered.

Davey really appreciated these girls. "Good. How to I not mess this up?"

Davey could hear them quietly conferring. Sometimes it scared him how smart Sarah and Katherine were together.

"He obviously likes you," Katherine started. "So I don't think you can mess it up."

"You should ask him out." Sarah suggested.

"Take him to the movies. That's always a good date." Katherine added.

Davey nodded to himself. "Okay. Alright. I can do this. Thank you, you do are lifesavers."

"Of course, bro." Sarah said.

Davey cringed a little. "Don't try and use teen words it doesn't make you sound hip."

Katherine laughed. "You're still at work." She pointed out.

Davey winced. "Shit, yeah. I'll talk to you guys later."

"We love you!" Sarah said before the call ended.

Davey put his phone down, chewing on his lip. He didn't really know how to ask somehow out. He also didn't know what type of movies Jack liked.

He knew someone who did. Davey left his phone off the rest of his shift, finally calling when it was over.

"David Jacobs, you bastard," Race said affectionally.

"Hey, Race." Davey was getting too used to talking on his phone on his walk home. "I need your advice."

"Oh, is this about Jack?" He asked.

Davey grimaced. "How did you know?"

Race laughed. "Dave, he won't shut up about you."

"You're just making this up." Davey protested.

"No! I can't lie about how annoying he is. It's just Davey this and David that. Do you know what he did?" Race sounded broken.

Davey was scared. "What did he do?"

"He literally interrupted Spot and I to talk about you. And by interrupted I mean he kicked Spot's door open while we were making out on his bed. And it was a really promising make out session Spot was right about to grab my-"

"Okay! I get it! Stop please I'm begging you." Davey was grinning though.

"Alright, fine. Just know that Jack is basically ruining my sex life." Race cleared his throat. "Anyways, what is it you need help with?"

"What kind of movies does Jack like? If I ask him to the movies which should we go to?"

"Honestly Jack's huge on Pixar. And superhero movies."

Davey exhaled. "Thank god those are good. He has good taste."

"Oh don't start. I hear enough about you from him. Do you know how tempting it is to tell him all the embarrassing things I know about you?"

Davey groaned. "You wouldn't."

"No, as long as you don't start this."

"I won't, I promise. Just know I have plenty dirt on you to tell Jack."

Race was silent for a moment. "Mutual agreement to never tell anyone anything?" He asked.

"Yeah, good plan." Davey finally reached his apartment, suddenly tired from working. "Okay, I'm exhausted."

"Get some sleep," Race said right away. "You can text or call if you need me."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later, Tony."

"I'll be looking forward to it, Walking Mouth."

They both laughed, ending the call. Davey got ready for bed quickly, sinking onto his mattress thankfully. He was going to ask Jack out tomorrow.

He was going to mess this up.

Davey arrived ten minutes early for his shift, tired and anxious as hell.

He was rummaging in his bag, not looking up. He finally found his stupid name tag, pinning it to his shirt as he finally looked up.

He was expecting one of his coworkers, Erika if he had read the schedule correctly. Instead he saw Jack.

"Uh, you're not supposed to be behind the counter." Davey said. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here.

Jack saved him from having to decide. "I work here now." He announced.

"Huh?" All of his careful planning on how to ask Jack out disappeared. Davey did not know what to do.

"They hired me. You're supposed to train me today, did no one tell you?" Jack was smiling.

Davey at once terrified and completely overjoyed. "I'm training you?"

Jack nodded. "Aren't you excited? You can finally teach me to do those cool swirls."

Davey somehow managed to get behind the counter with Jack. He was living in a different reality where Jack was with him and they worked together. It was a very good reality.

"Uh, Davey?" Jack sounded like he had been trying to get Davey's attention for a while.

"Yeah?" Maybe this was the actual reality.

"Can you maybe show me how to do the fancy swirl?" Jack looked a little bit nervous. It was not a good look for him. Davey much preferred the cocky and confident Jack he had seen so far.

"Yeah, I'll show you everything." He knew the routine for training new employees. It would only take an hour at most, then Jack would be ready to work alone. He hoped Jack would work shifts with him, though.

Davey opened the glass over the ice cream to show Jack. "First you need to know how to serve scoops. The spoons stay in these cups so they're hot, that makes it easier to scoop the ice cream." Davey picked up a spoon to show Jack, demonstrating how to roll it to create a round scoop. "Try it."

Jack did. He managed a somewhat circular scoop, quite impressive for his first try.

"Good job," Davey said.

Jack grinned at him. "Do I get a reward?"

Davey froze. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Jack. He wanted to pull him into the freezer and shut the door and kiss him until his lips and fingers went numb. Instead he shook his head. "Perfect swirl then you will." He was banking on Jack not being able to do soft serve.

He showed him how to make sundaes and smoothies first, mixing a small smoothie that Jack drank in one gulp.

Jack was extremely eager to try the soft serve machine. Davey saved it for last. Jack practically cheered when Davey grabbed a cone, expertly filling it and swirling the top.

Jack tried it as well. He could barely get the ice cream in the cone. It was a sad lopsided mess. Davey really wished it was perfect.

"Jack," he started. Jack looked concerned. "That's hideous."

Jack sighed. "This is harder than it looks." He took a bite of the ice cream, grimacing. "It doesn't even taste good now."

"I don't think how it looks has anything to do with the taste." Davey was having trouble following Jack's train of thought.

"Can I try again?"

Davey nodded. At least Jack was determined.

Jack tried again. And again. And again and again until he was clearly frustrated.

"That one wasn't bad, Jack." Davey lied.

Jack groaned. "Yes it was. I need motivation."

Davey knew he said he wouldn't kiss Jack till he perfected the swirl, but he really wanted to. Jack was looking at him with those gorgeous eyes and Davey wanted him to get it.

"One more try." He said.

Jack sighed. He tried again, as terribly as last time. "This is horrible." He set the ice cream cone down and looked at Davey.

Davey touched Jack's cheek, leaning in.

Jack stopped him. "I didn't get it?" He sounded confused.

"That's okay." Davey was frozen until Jack responded. He didn't want to push it. Jack grinned. He leaned in, kissing Davey finally. Jack's lips were soft and tasted like soft serve. Davey didn't even like ice cream but he wanted to keep kissing Jack.

Jack pulled away anyways, holding Davey at arm's length. "As much as I want to keep kissing you I think if we keep going I won't be able to stop."

Davey laughed. He felt light headed, his lips tingling. "Are you done with the swirl?"

"One more try." Jack tried again. It was perfect.

"Jack! Could you do that the whole time?"

Jack grinned a little sheepishly. "I figured it out after the first one. I just wanted to see if you'd keep your word."

"You're impossible." Davey couldn't fight back his grin.

"Is there any chance other customers are gonna show up? It's hot."

Davey checked the time. "Actually I usually sit in the freezer around now. Care to join me?"

Jack let Davey pull him to the freezer. Jack kissed him the moment they were out of sight. "Gotta stay warm," he said against Davey's lips.

Davey laughed. "We can't stay in here too long or we'll get in trouble."

Jack kissed him to shut him up.