#* & . › florals wrangle up the spine of wonder / closed !

[rhetoricalrogue]

Squishes - 11. Pulling mine into their lap

Thank you for the ask! This came in at around 1,995 words.

The little gastropub that Vincent’s brother had suggested they visit was definitely off the beaten path.  Even Josephine, who usually didn’t like going anywhere without consulting multiple review sources was charmed, calling it a hidden gem with excellent customer service.  Vincent had to wonder just how much of that was normal customer interaction and how much was due to the fact that Rolfe seemed to be familiar with the owner, the two of them shouting greetings at the other before the tall, bald man with an impressive beard enveloped Rolfe in a spine-cracking bear hug.

“You have got to try the soft pretzels,” Rolfe told them once they were shown to a back patio area that while being sunny and full of plants also had a private, secluded feel to it. He pulled out a chair for Cassandra while casually attempting to scoot his closer to hers without her catching on.  “Bruno serves them with a beer cheese sauce that is to die for.”

Vincent paused.  “I think we have a problem,” he said, looking at the seating arrangements.  “There’s eight of us showing up, but only five chairs.”

Rolfe shrugged.  “No worries!  Save my seat, Gorgeous,” he winked at Cassandra, who rolled her eyes and turned her attention towards the appetizer menu.  “I’ll be back in a bit with some help.”

Vincent sat down, his eyes peeled for the others.  Well, if he was honest with himself, he was mainly looking for Roz.  She’d been working long hours at the hospital lately to cover shifts for a coworker who was out on maternity leave, and by the time she made it home, she barely had the energy to shower and then text him a quick good night note to let him know that she had got home safely.  Tonight was the first night in weeks that she’d been able to get off work while it was still light out and he was looking forward to spending some time with her.

They’d only started officially seeing the other just a short while ago, and the two of them had agreed to keep it under wraps for the time being.  It wasn’t as if they were ashamed of their relationship, but after spending years thinking that the other wasn’t interested and not wanting to run their friendship by saying something out of turn, they wanted to keep this new turn in their lives to themselves for just a little longer to savor all the quiet moments and firsts before they let their friends in.

Maker knows his brother would crow about their new status, telling Vincent I told you so and raking up the winnings on whatever betting pool their circle of friends had made.  No one had told him there was betting on him and Roz, but when one was friends with Varric and Rolfe, no one had to tell him there were wagers going on.

It wasn’t long before the door to the patio area opened and Roz stepped out, her eyes scanning the tables for them.  He waved to her as her eyes landed on him, his heart skipping a few beats at the sight of her.  She’d changed out of her hospital scrubs and into a floral print sundress, the full skirt ending a little above the knee and showing off her legs.  The bright turquoise fabric brought out the color of her eyes and the watercolor pinks and yellows of the printed flowers brought out the rosy color of her cheeks and the red of her hair.

She was beautiful, but then again, Vincent would have thought that about her had she been wearing nothing at all.

“Hey you guys,” she said, smiling at Josephine and Cassandra.  Without thinking, she hooked the strap of her purse to the back of Vincent’s chair.

He stood up, giving himself a quick mental shake at the direction his thoughts had turned.  “Here, saved you a seat.  Rolfe’s inside wrangling some more chairs for everyone.”

“But you were sitting there first.”  She shifted on her feet, the sandals with the chunky heel cute, but something that Vincent knew wouldn’t be comfortable standing in for long, especially after a long day of being on her feet.  “I can wait.”

“Do you want my mother to manifest inside this restaurant and beat me to death with a menu?” He grinned at her, gently guiding her towards the table.  “She raised me better than that.”

“And since I don’t see Mama Trevelyan here,” she teased back, “I’m telling you to sit.”

Vincent looked at her and a lifetime of seeing the set of her mouth and the way she squared her shoulders told him that she wasn’t going to budge from her stance.  “Fine, I’ll sit.”

“Thank you for letting me win that argu-” Roz’s smug comment was cut short when Vincent wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, her eyes going wide in surprise as their two tablemates laughed.

“And you will too.”  Since it was at mouth height, he stealthily laid a brief kiss to her bare shoulder before leaning forward and grabbing onto a menu.  “I hope you’re hungry, Rolfe was talking up this place’s appetizers and I’m pretty sure he’s going to get most of the menu just for him.”

Roz shifted in his lap until she could comfortably look at the menu he held.  “I’m starving, it was so busy that I worked through my lunch break.”

Vincent frowned, but didn’t comment.  It was an old argument of theirs: he’d disapprove of her not putting her health first and she’d argue that he was one to talk, seeing as she knew he often skipped meals when he was busy at his nursery and only ate something when he was mentoring students so they wouldn’t feel bad about eating the snacks he provided them.  Instead, he pointed at a few things on the menu and quietly began the usual conversation he and Roz had when visiting a new place, offering to split two plates so they could try out something they’d never had before. He could physically feel Roz relax in his arms as she carried on a conversation with Josephine and Cassandra.  The two of them had never shied away from physical touch before, which was probably why their current seating arrangement hadn’t raised any eyebrows from the two women.  It was nice.

Of course, that meant that the feeling wasn’t meant to last long.  “Well, aren’t we cozy?” Rolfe drawled, coming in with two chairs in hand.  The owner - Bruno?  Vincent briefly remembered his brother saying the man’s name was Bruno - trailed behind him with another chair.  “Hello, Darling,” he told Roz, swooping in to press a noisy kiss to her cheek.

“Hey!”

Rolfe laughed at Vincent’s grumble of protest.  “Don’t be jealous; I love you too,” he teased, pressing a similar kiss to Vincent’s cheek before sitting next to Cassandra and laughing as Vincent dramatically rolled his eyes before reluctantly letting Roz slide out of his lap.  The conversation quickly went to food choices and shouted hellos as the other people in their party eventually showed up.  

The slight tug on his pant leg made Vincent look in Roz’s direction, his eyes darting down.  She was seated close enough to him to make room for the others at their table, and definitely within touching distance.  He let his hand rest on his knee before slowly reaching out to hook his little finger with hers underneath the table, catching her eye and giving her a secret smile that he was honestly surprised flew under the radar of several normally observant people around them.

Roz let his hand go first and while he missed the contact, he nearly choked on his drink when her finger ran against the outside of his thigh.  He turned in her direction to talk to Josephine at her right, his eyes catching on the smirk Roz hid behind her own glass.  Not one to sit by and leave well enough alone, Vincent reached out and did the same, his fingers slowly inching the fabric of her dress up and touching bare skin.  Roz, who hadn’t been looking in his direction, gave out a barely muffled sound of surprise. 

“Everything all right, Roz?” Leliana asked, giving them a look that had Vincent trying not to quickly snatch his hand away.  She tipped her head in response, her lips pursing as she looked between the two of them, but didn’t comment further.

“Yes, it’s just been a long day.”  Roz shifted, her hand subtly tugging the hem of her dress over her knee again.  “A long week, if I’m being honest.  I might have to call it an early night.”

Vincent didn’t comment as Leliana looked between them again, her expression quickly turning from one of curious interest to knowing realization.  Well, he thought, reaching for his drink and wishing that it was something stronger than sweetened tea, so much for keeping this under wraps for long.

But then Leliana surprised them both by giving a soft smile.  “From what I’ve heard, you haven’t had much time to rest.  No one would blame you for wanting to duck out early for some time to yourself.”  Her eyes flicked over to Vincent before casually picking up a potato wedge and putting it on her plate.  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Secret?  Who’s keeping secrets over there?” Rolfe asked, giving them a carefree grin that told Vincent that he wanted to be on whatever conversation he had missed.

“Nobody,” he replied, reaching out for a few more fried pickles to add to his own plate.  He nodded to Leliana, who gave him a wink in response. “You’re just being nosy.”

“Hey, Nosy is my middle name.”

Cassandra laughed.  “And here I thought it was Bothersome.”

“Or Charmer.” 

Varric scoffed.  “That’s his nickname, you can’t call him Charmer twice.”

Vincent arched an eyebrow.  “Funny, I thought it was Aloyusi -”

Rolfe pointed a finger at him.  “Do not finish that sentence, Vincent Nathaniel.” 

Vincent raised his hands up defensively in defeat, content that the conversation had been steered away from him and Roz.  He caught her eye as he checked his watch.  Knowing her, she would make her excuses and leave in about twenty more minutes.  He guessed that if he held out for another half hour afterwards, he’d be able to make it back to her house and still be able to spend a good time alone with her before going back to his apartment before Rolfe made it home.

Then again, he’d noticed the looks that Cassandra had been giving Rolfe most of the evening.  If they were both lucky, Vincent wouldn’t see his brother until mid-morning.

Beside him, Roz jumped and reached into her purse to fish out her phone.  “I hate to call this short,” she started, quickly waving her phone and showing the text message.  Vincent was close enough to see that the latest message was from several days ago.  “It’s one of my co-workers, they can’t find some paperwork that I left them last shift.  I think that I’m going to head home for some shuteye after I help them out.”

He watched as she made her way around the table, giving hugs and goodbyes.  She made it back to him and reached behind him to grab her purse.  “Don’t make me wait long,” she whispered in his ear as she pulled her purse off the back of his chair.

“Drive safe.  Text me when you get home?”  

“Of course.”  Again, no one even gave them a second glance at their customary goodbye, not even when she kissed his cheek, her fingers softly pushing his hair out of his eyes and fondly curling strands behind his ear. 

He watched her go, and if Leliana caught the way his eyes focused on Roz’s backside as she left, she didn’t say a word.

[nadiarizavi]

a different definition of stars- chapter 1: blue, a color, a feeling

@planceminibang​ SUMMARY: 

Lance McClain was born for the spotlight. But after a surprise scandal, his mom gets worried that the fame’s starting to get to his head-- and Lance gets shipped off to live with his brother Luis and his family in the countryside town of Garrison, in the middle of Altea County, population barely breaching a thousand. In a new place where no one knows his name, Lance should be grateful to have a break from the lights and cameras-- but being a farmhand isn’t the life of glitz and glamour he was used to. And it’s definitely no picnic when the girl next door has blackmail on you.

RATED: T, TAGS: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Injuries, Cows, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Car Accidents, minor kallura

CHAPTER ONE ON AO3!

A/N: huge thank u to the mods !!! huge love to @zoedozy for making SUPER LOVELY ART that’ll be shared soon !! the fic is below the cut or you can read it on ao3! <3

Slap.

Lance withdrew his legs with a hiss, turning to the driver--his sister in law, Lisa-- who by now had turned her eyes back to the road, a satisfied smile on her face.

“The hell was that for?!”

“I told you four times to get your feet off the dash, Lance.”

Lance gestured to the dash, then at her. “It’s--look! I didn’t leave a mark!”

“And you’re adorable if you think that attitude’s gonna fly here.”

“Attitude--?”

“Lance.”

He slumped back into his seat, the dirt road causing the truck to bump and jostle along as it did. His eyes wandered back out the window-- miles and miles of grass and trees, cattle, hazy purple mountains in the far off distance. Not another car for miles. No music played on the radio--white noise. An unrelated buzz--Lisa told him that it was cicadas in the late summer--hummed in the air, and the sun was high in the afternoon sky. Cloudless. An infinite blanket of blue.

“How’s Veronica?”

Lisa was asking him questions again. Lance looked down at his shirt, tugging at a loose string, brows furrowed. How’s Veronica?

Mad at him. 

Well, he couldn’t blame V for being mad at him. He was still trying to ice the burn from his parents being mad at him too.

He heard the shutter of a secret camera click in his ear, and Lance planted his forehead against the window.

“She’s fine.”

“Mami told me she didn’t come to send you off.”

“Busy at work. She has a life too, yanno. Outside of being my babysitter,” he grumbled. They drove past one, two cows. He should add on to that. “Sorry you got stuck with babysitting, by the way.”

“You’re family.” A pause. She was thinking of something to add on, too. “We want to take care of you too, Lance.”

The cicadas buzzed on.

--

Nadia and Sylvio were his next assailants-- running down the porch steps of a wooden, white ranch house at full speed, down the dirt driveway, and into his arms. He only ever saw the kids when the family came to Hollywood for the holidays, for summer vacation. They wore wide smiles, their teeth bright white, Nadia’s dark hair braided down her back, Sylvio’s hands were dried with mud. Lance couldn’t help but laugh.

Despite the circumstances, he could never resent seeing his favorite niece and nephew.

“You guys keep getting bigger. Stop eating your vegetables.” Lance said, bending his knees for Sylvio to wrap his thin arms around his neck, lifting him into a piggyback ride while Nadia skipped alongside them.

“Do actors need to eat their vegetables?” Nadia asked, a curious twinkle in her eye. She wanted to be just like her uncle Lance, she had said at Christmas the last year. Just like him.

For the moment, the reminder made his stomach twist in knots.

“Well, kinda.”

“Then I won’t stop.”

Sylvio wriggled against his spine, chirping directly into Lance’s ear. “Me too! I won’t stop, too!”

That made him laugh, the knot undoing itself for the thirtieth time that day, and he let the boy down as soon as the porch steps came to view. It was a big porch. It was a big house. Stark white, freshly painted. An oasis in the middle of a lifeless world. Lisa whistled for him, back down the driveway.

“Lance, you don’t seriously expect your pregnant aunt to get your bags, do you?”

Lance bolted back down, ignoring the sting in his chest when he reached the truck and looked down to his shoes; once pristine, white, now dusted. Lisa gave him a curious glance as she handed him his duffle.

“What’s wrong?”

“My shoes.”

And then she rolled her eyes, dropping the duffle into his arms. “You’ve got money. Buy new ones. Probably something better suited for the farm.”

He followed her dejectly--her and his rolling suitcase--back up the driveway, feeling perspiration on his forehead, in his hair. The late afternoon was hot, the sun oppressive against his neck. Sunscreen. That was definitely first priority once he’s settled in.

The air inside the house was cool and inviting, a welcome reprieve from the hot summer sun. The kids followed their mother and Lance like ducklings up the stairs, into the spare bedroom, inspecting Lance as if he were a new toy.

In a way he kind of was. All city and no country on him. He was dressed for first class travel, not for the dirt roads and cattle and buzzing cicadas.

The bedsheets were a shade of wet soil and smelled faintly the same. The lacy curtains were open, and he could get another view of miles of grass and purple mountains and an infinite sky. The wallpaper-- blue, white, floral--right out of a homestead decor magazine. There was a desk and a closet, empty save for boxes labeled ‘WINTER COATS’ and ‘XMAS DECOR.’ Lance dropped his duffle on the bed, watching the dust float up and catch in the light. Sylvio and Nadia set to inspecting the room itself, and Lisa let out a content sigh as she looked around. She threw him a smile.

“Nothing like Beverly Hills?”

“Don’t see an infinity pool out there,” Lance said, hoping he sounded funny. Please think I’m being funny, Lis.

She outstretched a hand to him, adjusting the sleeve of his shirt, following his gaze out the window to the sky and the mountains and the grass. “You don’t need a pool to see infinity out here, mijo.”

She started out the door again. “Let’s get the rest of your bags and get you settled in, right? Sylvio, Nadia, can you two go check on the chicken coop?”

The two were glad to oblige, racing down the stairs in fits of laughter, and Lance could only follow Lisa, dumbstruck, hand out to help her if she needed a hand down the steps. “You guys got chickens here too?”

She laughed, throaty and warm. “You’ll get to meet them tomorrow, I hope. I don’t know what Luis wants you to do yet.”

“Probably wrangle a cow.”

“We don’t wrangle anything here. You’re a farmer now, not a bull rider,” Lisa let out a breath, looping her arm through his as they left the cool air of the farmhouse and started back down the driveway, kicking up dirt as they walked. She was quiet, until they were back to the car, back to the luggage Lance toted from sunny California. “Your mama didn’t tell us everything, you know.”

Lance bit his lip, hoisting his luggage out of the truck bed and onto the road. “You can probably just google it.”

“I’d rather hear it from you, Lance. Not the tabloids.”

That was reassuring, considering his parents and Veronica preferred to read the tabloids.

He looked Lisa in the eye, and the knot in his chest twisted itself right back up. Lance wondered if there was a chance he could get an Eagle Scout badge for his impressive knotting skills in the last month, because this was one hell of a situation to be tied up in. And, hell, no sense beating around the bush with her.

“Uh, it was a DUI.”

Her expression fell.

“Lance…”

He remembered his luggage, one hand reaching for it, the other gesturing at Lisa. “No, no. I, uh, I don’t want you to say anything. It was my fault.” 

She was still looking at him with a furrowed brow. Pity. Worry. Other emotions he wished he couldn’t see, couldn’t understand. “No one was hurt. Just me,” was tacked on quickly, almost too quickly.

She picked up the other luggage, and she squeezed his arm again, but pulled away quicker. “No, yeah, of course. You got lucky.”

There was ice in her words, and Lance could taste bile. His free hand went subconsciously into his hair, eyes back up at the sky, tracing the bumps and grooves of a healing, stitched wound, the sweat on his hands sliding against the sweat in his hair, and the infinity of blue began to break up and crack like a shattered windshield.

Lance closed his eyes.

He got lucky.

--

His first task was dishes, drying as Lisa washed, and the sound of a car honk outside and the ecstatic shouts of his niece and nephew almost made him screw it up. He sat the plate down on the counter, giving Lisa a wild look. She snorted.

“Luis is home.”

“Where’s he even been all day?”

“Hey, farm work is more than just staying on the farm.” She dried her hands, following the kids outside, and Lance could hear them chatter, hear his name be shouted in excitement by Sylvio. He shuffled along, tail between his legs; the nerves, the anxiety building back up again as he peered through the screen door. There was Luis, and a dog, and the door swung open. Lance stumbled back. The stranger just raised her brows.

“Oh. My bad.”

Lance peered down at her. She wore her hair pulled back under a baseball cap, eyes behind large, round glasses. She was dressed for work, dusty denim jeans and a loose tee covered in suspicious red stains, and in her arms was a crate full of mason jars labeled by fruit (and Lance’s suspicion of the stains dissipated). She looked around his age, maybe younger. Her amber-toned eyes eyed him curiously, and Lance wondered for a moment if she recognized him. They had television here in the middle of nowhere, didn’t they? She had to know who he was. Maybe she’s starstruck.

Her curiosity quickly turned to annoyance.

“Can you… please move?”

Right. He was blocking her path. Lance obliged.

“Sorry. Uh. Hey, I’m Lance.”

He followed her into the kitchen as she set the crate down, setting to unboxing the jars, reading the labels, organizing them by fruit on the counter. Lance watched her for a minute, listening to the sound of glass tinkle. He had about a thousand questions. Many revolving around the stranger in his uncle’s kitchen unboxing fruit preserves like her life depended on it.

“I’m Lance.” He said again, louder, hoping her silence was just because she didn’t hear him. “I’m, uh, Luis’s little brother.”

“Uh-huh.”

Silence. She picked up the now-emptied crate, turning around to face him. Nothing. No reaction, not even a little one. Lance blinked at her.

“Lance McClain.”

“Yeah. You’ve told me your name three times already.”

“I… I did.” He did. “And you are…?”

“Not staying.” She brushed past him, and Lance stared after her. No way. There was no way. He knew his brother was disconnected, but even Luis watched TV.

“Wait, you don’t… do you watch TV? Ever?”

She stopped, turning around, holding the crate against her hip as she gave him a bewildered stare. “You’re kind of a weirdo, Lance McClain.”

“You don’t know who I am.”

She shifted her footing.

“I do now. Why’s that matter? You’re special or something?”

“Yes. Wait, no.”

She raised a brow again, and maybe he was imagining the amused twinkle in her eyes. “O-kay. See ya around, Lance.”

Good brother manners told him to follow the girl back out, greet his uncle. But at the moment, Lance was having a reality check.

Out in the middle of farmer country and the first person he thought would recognize him… didn’t. Was this what a blessing was? Or maybe it was just a blow to his ego. Either way, it was devastating. He peered back out through the screen door, watching the stranger laugh and smile with his brother and Lisa, giving Sylvio and Nadia hugs. And he watched her whistle for the dog, and watched them disappear down the dirt road. He turned toe back towards the kitchen, grabbing the next plate they used for lunch and began to scrub it down, listening for the door to open, for anyone’s voice. It was a relief when the laughter finally carried itself through the foyer, through the kitchen, and Lance felt a calloused hand clap down on his neck.

“What, didn’t want to come say hi?” Luis pulled him into a half-hug, and Lance splashed dish water, a laugh escaping him.

“I wanted to finish these, man.”

“Dishes! I thought Mami was making up urban legends when she said you still knew how to do these.”

“Dickhead.”

Luis laughed, setting to drying Lance’s dishes, his eyes wandering to the jars stacked up neatly on the counter. “You met Katie, at least?”

“Was that the girl?”

“Isn’t she great? Smartest girl we know.” He gestured around the house. “Set up the wifi and TV and even fixed the truck last spring with her mechanic buddy. Complete wonder girl.”

“What the hell? She set up your cable and she apparently has no idea who I am.”

Luis slowed his motion with the dish towel, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be serious. You’ve barely been here a day and you have expectations.”

“It’d be like if you didn’t know who Leonardo DiCaprio was.”

“Leo is an international icon and you’re on a daytime drama. Perspective.”

Lance took a step back, eyes on the preserve jars. “It was just… weird.”

Luis glanced at him, smiling. “A good or bad weird?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, get used to it. Mami sent you over here because she knew you’d be out of the spotlight while this whole thing simmers down.”

He winced, involuntary, leaning back against the counter. Simmer down. That’s all this was, right? The press will stop seeking him out and some other celebrity will do something equally or more insane, and Lance and his car wrapped around a pole would be old news. Simmered down. Cooked and salted and chowed down and passed right through and the next meal comes along and the cycle repeats itself in a vicious self-sabotage.

It didn’t sit well with him, suddenly. A headache spiked where his skull had split opened and flowered, however many salted and simmered days ago. The bile came back.

“Yeah, when this all simmers down.” Lance said, a little too loud, and he faked a yawn. “Anyways, I’m beat. Jet lag and shit. When should I set my alarm?”

“I’ll cut you some slack. Seven A.M. sound good?”

“Good god, no.”

Luis threw him a well meaning smile. “Let me or Lisa know if you need anything, okay?”

“How about building a luxury pool and spa in the backyard?”

“Anything but that.”

They laughed together, shoving and shoulder-checking, and Luis followed Lance as far as the stairs, a grin on his face, a crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

“Make sure you stay knocked the hell out, because you’re going to need all the sleep you can get. You’re on farm time, now.”

Lance shuddered hard, overdramatic. “That’s scary shit, Lu. Love you. Goodnight.”

He bounded up the stairs a little too fast, sinking down into his four-post bed, onto a blanket of soil and stared up at a dark ceiling. The buzzing of cicadas was replaced by the chirps of crickets, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut, rolling onto his stomach. His fingers itched to check his phone, google himself, see if his co-stars were texting him; but he knew better. Now was not the time.

Simmer, simmer down, Lance.

The jet lag caught up to him, eventually, and he breathed in the scent of earth and sky.