#BUT JEEZ THE WAY HE GRADUALLY LAUGHS HARDER AND HARDER IS DONE VERY WELL

[sierraraeck]

Happier

Spencer x Fem!Reader

Spencer x Luke

Masterlist

Summary: Things have been slowly declining in you and Spencer’s relationship. Going out to a bar alone one night, you figure out why.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Brief mention of alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Happier” by Marshmellow and Bastille. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too.

In the cold light of day we’re a flame in the wind

Not the fire that we’ve begun

But we ran our course, we pretended we’re okay

‘Cause with all that has happened

I think that we both know the way that this story ends

You met Spencer at a bookstore. He was a regular, but it was the first time you actually interacted. He was carrying enough books to nearly block his vision, and when he no-so-gracefully plopped them down at the register in front of you, the whole pile came toppling down. You watched in amusement as he collected three of the books from the floor and placed them back down on the desk, now ready to check out.

“You know, we provide baskets at the front for this reason,” you smirked.

He barely glanced up at you, and shyly said, “Do you know how many germs are on those things?”

You laughed, “I’m not sure I’d like to know.”

He quickly raised his eyebrows at you. “I wish I didn’t.”

You checked out the rest of his books in silence, then wished him a good day on his way out.

The next week, he was back in, and grabbed the same outrageous amount of books, dropping them on his way to you.

“Back so soon?” you questioned, remembering who he was quite well.

“I needed some new reading material,” he shrugged. You cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“The last thirteen books weren’t enough?”

“I finished them,” he nonchalantly stated.

“You’re kidding.” He shook his head. “Jeez. Is the only thing you do read all day?”

“No,” he innocently responded, “I only need a few minutes to read each. I’m actually an FBI agent.”

You stared at him blankly. That was not what you expected. “Wait, what? You’re an FBI agent, and you can read hundreds of pages in only minutes?”

He nodded as if there was nothing impressive about either of those. You were still shocked and mumbled, “Okay, wow.”

The third time he came in, you noticed that he was waiting until your register was free, so that you specifically could check him out. You had a bit more small talk, this time about some of the books he’d read. The fourth time he came in, you left some disinfectant wipes by the baskets, knowing that he really should use one, and wanted the germaphobe in him to feel comfortable taking one. He looked over at you and you smiled at him while he wiped down one of the baskets to use. It was that time while you were checking him out that he asked you on a date. You, of course, said yes. You wanted to know more about this mysterious, handsome man that worked for the FBI and could read an insane amount of books in only a short period of time.

Things were great at the beginning. You got to know each other, and the more you found out about him, the more and more you liked him. The two of you started spending almost all of your free time together, and you were considering asking about moving in together.

That is, until he started pulling away.

You weren’t sure what had gone wrong. Things were great, and then it seemed like one day he went to work interested in you and came home distant. Like his mind was elsewhere. You tried to ask him about it, but he deflected every time. He used to never like going out with his team, but he slowly started spending more time with them, and less time with you. You hinted at wanting to meet his team, and hoped that he’d introduce you to them soon, but with every passing day you grew more doubtful.

You’d been anticipating a break up for a while now, but you just didn’t think it’d be you who did it.

Spencer was out with his team again. He’d only briefly talked about them, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was one of his team members that was holding his attention. Maybe that JJ or Emily person, you thought.

You were tired of being left home alone, and were feeling even more down than usual, so you decided to go out by yourself. If Spencer wasn’t going to have fun with you, you could have fun with you.

You pushed open the door to the bar on the corner of the street, but stopped in your tracks when you saw Spencer, and the group of people around him you quickly put together was his team. You scooted out of the entryway, and just stood there watching them. You felt sort of creepy doing it, but it might’ve been the only time you could see Spencer when he wasn’t around you. Maybe it would tell you something.

What you saw felt like a spear to the chest. Spencer was smiling. He was laughing. God, you missed hearing that laugh, seeing that smile. It’d been so long since he’d done either, and that’s when you realized the full weight of how unhappy Spencer must be with you.

Sure, he’d been pulling away, but the process was so gradual that seeing the stark contrast of him with his team versus him with you was blinding. It was like the universe was throwing it in your face just to mock you. It was painful.

The thing that really got you, though, was the way he was looking at one of his teammates. It wasn’t one of the pretty blondes, or either of the jaw-dropping brunettes, but it was the dashing man next to him. You’d seen those eyes before, the ones Spencer was giving him. He looked at you that way once, but not at all recently.

You felt ashamed for it, but your initial reaction was resentment. You hated the very attractive man with deep brown eyes and a little scruff that you’d never met. He was the reason that your Spencer was drifting from you.

But that’s the thing. He wasn’t ‘your’ Spencer. He was just a cute, shy, germaphobic guy that you met at a bookstore. And based on the way that he was looking at his teammate, you wondered if maybe Spencer hadn’t been ‘yours’ for a while now.

Unbeknownst to you, you’d started tearing up, and only noticed it when some of the people around you started giving you strange looks. You furiously wiped at your face, and took a few deep breaths. At that moment, you decided to leave, to calm yourself down for the rest of the night and confront him about it tomorrow.

You were nearly out the door when you heard that oh-so-familiar voice call out, “Hey, Y/N!” You turned to see Spencer slightly jogging towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You experienced forever in a moment, hundreds of thoughts swarming your mind in an instant: I’m here because he never wants to spend time with me anymore and I was going to drown my feelings in alcohol; It doesn’t matter why I’m here because now I know what’s been going on between us; I can’t stay with him; but I love him; maybe we can make it work; he’s clearly unhappy with me and I’ve known it for a long time; the way he looks at his coworker is the way I want him to look at me; can I ever make him look at me like that again; what did I do wrong; this is that man’s fault; this is Spencer’s fault; this is my fault; maybe I’m just not good enough for him; why am I not good enough for him; god I think I might cry again; no I need to pull myself together, that’d be embarrassing; I wish I was good enough so I could see him smile and hear him laugh like that again; that man made him smile like that and laugh like that, something I haven’t been able to do in a long time; he doesn’t love me; he loves him; I love him; I want him to be happy, he deserves to be happy; I deserve to be happy; I want him to be happier than he is with me; I want him to be as happy as he is with that man all the time; I want that happiness to be with me, but it’s not; I want him to be happier.

We shouldn’t do this anymore.

It’s not that you couldn’t do it anymore, you wanted nothing more than to keep fighting for the two of you, but you had the astonishing thought that you just shouldn’t. I wouldn’t be fair for you to keep Spencer from the man he truly wanted, and it wasn’t fair to yourself to continue in this relationship.

In the blink of an eye, you heard yourself speak the words you never thought you would, words you couldn’t even believe you were saying out loud, right now, to the man you just realized you loved. “I’m breaking up with you.” You felt tears rising to the surface, but you swallowed them down. This is for the best.

Spencer looked beyond shocked, like he surly hadn’t heard you correctly. “What? Why?”

You gave him a sad smile, “Spence, this is the first time I’ve seen you happy, like really truly happy. And you know what? It’s not with me.”

This just confused him further. “I don’t…” he trailed off.

You gestured toward the strong-jawed man who was trying, and failing, to not-so-subtly look your guys’ way. “It’s with him.”

Spencer followed your gaze, and offered a small, confused laugh. “Who, Luke? No, we’re just-”

“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence with ‘just friends’ I will slap you across the face,” you cut him off. Spencer gave you a slightly startled look, so you lowered your voice to a more calming one. “Look, you should be with him, okay? You actually want to spend time with him and you’re smiling which I feel like I haven’t seen you do in months.”

Spencer was shaking his head. “Y/N, I can try harder, we can-”

You held up your hand to stop him. “I don’t want you to have to try. No one should have to try that hard to keep this going. It should be easy, effortless, which is what you’re getting from someone else. So no, we can’t and more than that, I don’t want to.” You felt almost as surprised as Spencer looked from your words. They were true, from the depths of your soul you felt how true your words were, and couldn’t believe that you were finally admitting that.

Spencer’s voice was small when he asked, “Why?”

You heard the double meaning behind the question, and answered with the first thing that came to mind. “Because I love you.” You realized it was the first, last, and only time you’d get to say that. “And that’s why I want you to be happy, even if it isn’t with me.”

Spencer was about to respond when a high pitched voice, sounding slightly drunk and a little bit annoyed, yelled across the room, “Yeah, new guy!” You saw the tall man approaching the two of you, and it all kinda clicked into place. New guy. So when it felt like one day Spencer woke up loving me, and came home distracted, that wasn’t too far off. He went to work that day, which was probably the same day that ‘new guy’ started working with him. It all started slowly making sense in your head.

‘New guy,’ Luke, walked up to the two of you, standing shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, and cautiously started, “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Looking at the man before you, you hated to admit it, but your anger diminished a little, and your jealousy grew. He was a very attractive man, full, strong build, piercing eyes, gentle face, and about the same height as Spencer.

You gave Spencer a pointed look about the proximity in which they were standing, especially when the other man’s shoulder brushed up against his. Spencer wasn’t a touchy person, but he actually seemed to relax in the other man’s presence. That spoke volumes.

You knew this Luke guy was also a profiler, so he could probably sense the tension, granted anyone probably could’ve. He quickly looked at Spencer before directing his attention back to you. “Can we help you with something?”

You wanted to scoff, or laugh, or vomit. Maybe all three at the same time. Can we help you with something? Clearly Spencer had never told any of them about you, and you couldn’t help but smile, with just a hint of bitterness, at his immediate use of ‘we.’ As if you were a threat that he needed to help Spencer defuse. But you also smiled because you were right. Again, it didn’t take a profiler to spot the very different tension between the two of them.

You shook your head, looking more at Spencer than at the other man, “No, I don’t think so. Not anymore.” There was no malice in your voice, only sadness, with just a dash of exhaustion. Who knew that pretending like your relationship wasn’t sinking took so much effort?

Spencer gave Luke a tight smile, “Just give us a minute?”

He wearily nodded, but backed away from the two of you. You sighed, “Look, he seems like a good guy and clearly already loves you in some capacity, and you know what?” You half-joked, “If he does something stupid you give me his number and I’ll give him a call.”

This earned a small laugh from Spencer, which made you want to both smile and cry. Of course, it was only after you’d broken up that you could get him to laugh. You settled for a small smile, and an immediate awkwardness settled over the two of you.

You made the first move, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. With a comforting hand on his shoulder, you looked into his sad eyes, and whispered, “Bye, Spencer.”

Those were the last words you exchanged, and you walked out of that bar without another look back.

You were letting him go.

You were setting him free.

Then only for a minute

I want to change my mind

‘Cause this just don’t feel right to me

I wanna raise your spirits

I want to see you smile but

Know that means I’ll have to leave

So I’ll go

[imissjoongsmullet]

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

► 

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other. 

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.” 

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 21

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 11,394

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Cinnamon.

The scent of it.

That was the first thing I became aware of.

It was so… familiar and spicy and warm. The warmth spread into my cheeks and brought a smile to my lips, small and unbidden. Sunlight against my closed eyelids was the second thing I became aware of as it melted away the last dregs of sleepiness from my mind. I'd been dreaming. I wondered what about… must have been something good. I quietly yawned and stretched where I lay flat on my back before, slowly by surely, I opened my eyes.

Then I froze and my heart gave a violent jolt.

That wasn't my ceiling.

This wasn't my bed.

That-

That wasn't my arm draped across my stomach with its hand resting on my hip.

I mean, not unless it had gained some serious muscle mass from pumping the soft serve/milkshake machine at work. And even then, those muscles would have had to of been on some sort of weird time delay for them to just so suddenly and quite literally pop into existence overnight while I'd been asleep. Now granted, I don't know a lot about the way human anatomy works, particularly when it comes to muscles. That said, I think it was a safe bet to say that none of it worked that way.

Oh gosh, and I was just now becoming aware of a second unidentified arm. This one beneath the small of my back. I had to wonder how it'd gotten under me without waking me up. Or maybe… maybe it hadn't so much as gotten under me as I had rolled on top of it? Gah, who knew? And honestly, who really cared? The point wasn't how it got there but just the fact that it was there!

Confusion and panic levels skyrocketing, I tore my eyes away from the mystery arms, resting my head back into the mystery pillow to stare back up at the mystery ceiling. Then I craned my neck to the left to take in the mystery room with all the mystery clothing tossed about everywhere. Then I craned it to the right to-

-to come face to quite literal face with… well, a face.

My hand shot up to clamp over my mouth, silencing the startled gasp trying to escape. Heart slamming against my ribcage now, my wide eyes looked at the face. And I mean, really looked at it now that I was over the initial jumpscare. And I realized…

It was Lea's face.

More precisely, Lea's sleeping face.

Fingers still clutched over my lips, my rapid breathing through my nose gradually began to try and normalize as last night slowly started coming back to me. The dinner with Saïx. My nervous babbling that had led to the impromptu sleepover in Lea's room. The lizard - no, not lizard, salamander - named Bruni. Sitting in Lea's bed with him while we watched movies together. Though it hadn't so much as been watching as more so talking over them. And laughing. Oh yeah, there had been a lot of that, oddly enough. Well, odd for me, anyway. I remembered making it all the way through the first movie and starting the second one, but I couldn't remember finishing it. I guess I must have dozed off somewhere in the middle of it.

Lea too, it seemed. He was now curled up on his side next to me. Both of us were still on top of the comforter and if you hadn't guessed already, those were in fact his arms across my stomach and under my back. Though they certainly hadn't been there before I'd nodded off. Neither had been that leg of his that was currently slung across both mine, which was a thing that was just now coming to my attention. There must have been a remarkable amount of shifting around in our sleep on both our parts last night.

Well, well, Slumbering Lea… we meet again. We really have to stop bumping into each other like this.

But now the real question was… what to do?

Extract myself and make a hasty retreat without waking him, of course! I'd done it once before and, by gum, I could do it again! Sure, last time had been a little easier, since we'd just been sitting on a couch and the whole situation had been a little less… tangled. But so what if this time around was a little more challenging? I like a challenge!

I drew in a long breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it as soundlessly as possible. Okay, let's do this! First order of business? The top arm. Should be simple enough, right? Next would be the leg, which might be a bit trickier, but I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. Debating the best strategy for dealing with the arm for a few seconds, I at last settled on gripping one of his fingers between my index and thumb and gingerly, oh so very gingerly picking it up.

Easy does it now. No rush. Remember, slow and steady wins the race!

I'd only managed to lift his hand a couple inches however when I heard a low noise in his throat. I stiffened, stopping immediately and turning my head to look over at him, fearing I'd disturbed him from his dreams. But no, he seemed to be making the sound in his sleep. Frowning and furrowing his brow too, no less.

Suddenly, his hand broke free of my grasp and latched back onto my hip before both his arms were pulling me to him, hugging tightly around my waist as I was brought chest-to-chest with him. My cheeks burned red hot and I had to swallow my squeak as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, nuzzling his nose in close and inhaling deeply. Then he sighed and his whole body began to relax once more as he released a soft snore.

...jeez, he really was such a clingy sleeper!

Also, this had just made escaping a whole lot harder. What with him more firmly wrapped around me now, I had no clue how I was going to disentangle myself without waking him up.

His hold on me had at least slackened a bit, if only enough for me to ease back slightly. We were still pretty much nose to nose, but I had managed to regain a few bare inches between our bodies before being stopped by his arms still looped around my middle. Pondering how to overcome this new obstacle, I blew a few stray, frazzled bangs out of my face and looked at him again.

I mean, it's not like I had much else to do at the moment. Not while I was so thoroughly and undeniably stuck.

...gosh, he really was pretty, wasn't he? One might even say painfully so. Even with his guyliner all smudged and smeared like that. Even while he was asleep. Or perhaps, even more so while he was asleep. I don't know… maybe it just seemed that way because I could stare at him so openly without fear of being caught and getting flustered over it.

I wish we were real.

Those words suddenly came drifting back to me once more and I had to wonder...would it really have been so bad? If that's what he'd really said and truly meant it? I mean, one would think I should have been happy to hear those words, what with my silly little crush on him. And actually, I think there had been a tiny part of me that hadbeen happy. But it had gotten swiftly smothered and crushed under sheer, blind, uncontrollable panic. After all, there's a big difference between hoping for something and actually getting it. And just because a tiny wish in your heart might have the possibility of coming true, doesn't mean you're actually ready for it to, or… or prepared to open yourself up and deal with being so… so…

...vulnerable...

Not that it mattered, of course. Because that's not what he'd actually meant. He'd told me so himself. Stated it in no uncertain terms.

But… if say, for the sake of argument, he had actually meant it… what was I so afraid of? Really? Lea would never hurt me… right? No, I don't think he could, even if he tried, even if he wanted to. He was too sweet. He was too caring and gentle. He was-

Oh dear god, he was waking up.

Sucking in a breath, I tensed as I saw him start to shift and stir, as his eyelashes gave a little flutter before cracking ever so slightly open.

I, of course, proceeded to do the only logical and rational thing I could do in such a situation.

I screwed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.

Deal with the awkwardness of him knowing I'd been watching him while he slumbered? Uh-uh. Nope. No thank you. But crud, now I was too rigid, my face too scrunched up in my distress. He'd never buy the whole snoozing act, not like this! Come on, Elsa, be more natural! Relax, damn it, relax!

My mouth fell open and my tongue lolled out.

...not that relaxed!

I quickly tucked my tongue back in and cinched my mouth shut, hoping against all hope he hadn't woken up enough to witness that bit of unseemliness. If he had, there was no reaction. None that I could hear anyway. In fact, I wasn't hearing much of anything from him. Nor had his arms so much as even budged one millimeter from my waist. He… had woken up… right? Should I check? No, no, that might give me away. His breathing, at least, no longer sounded like he was asleep. But if that was true, what was he even-

A sudden heavy sigh from him startled me, almost making me jump and blow my cover, but I barely managed to keep it together. Then I felt him removing his hands, taking extra care and caution when easing the one out from underneath me. I dutifully and with great earnest continued to play dead. The bed then shifted and I knew he had stood up. There were a few beats of silence before a soft rustling noise could be heard… the shuffling of clothing, maybe? I wasn't quite sure. Listening to it for a few more seconds, my curiosity got the better of me and I furtively peeked one eye open.

My face erupted into searing, molten heat so fast, you would have mistaken it for the surface of the sun.

For there Lea stood - his back to me in all its leanly muscled glory - in nothing but his boxers.

My eye slammed shut again.

But not before I had a chance to see that said boxers were covered in cute, little cartoon ninjas.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Why was he naked?!

Well, not technically naked, since he still had something on over his-

What the actual frick, was I actually arguing semantics with myself right now?!

...I should look again.

What?! No, I absolutely should not!

I should. Purely for reconnaissance reasons, of course, just to keep tabs on what he's doing.

No. No! I'm putting my foot down on this. What if he's even more naked now?

Why on earth would he be more naked?

I don't friggin' know! But did I really want to risk it?!

I'm gonna look.

Don't you dare.

I'm doing it.

Don't-

I looked.

...oh thank goodness, he was more clothed now. I don't think I'd still be breathing if he hadn't been. He'd put on a tanktop and PJ bottoms and was now ruffling his fingers through his hair as he moved over to crouch next to the terrarium, checking in on Bruni. Curling his finger up and down at the little guy, he then stood to his full height and started to turn in my direction. I squeezed my eyes shut once more. There was a pause before I heard some movement, followed by the sound of the door leading out into the living room opening and then closing as quietly as possible.

A breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding all but exploded out of me as I flopped over onto my back once more. I just concentrated on the messy collage of posters up on the ceiling, waiting for my frantic pulse to settle down and desperately trying to block out any attempts made by my stupid brain to bring up images of a certain redhead down to almost nothing but his birthday suit.

After a minute, I began to hear what sounded like the muffled clang of pots and pans beyond that door he'd disappeared through, most likely coming from the kitchen. Lea was making breakfast. For himself and Saïx. For me too, I suppose, come to think of it.

That's when it clicked. Why he had undressed and changed. We were going to be seen this morning by his roommate and he hadn't wanted to look like he'd slept in his clothes. Not after what had supposedly been a, er, ahem… wild night of passion with his girlfriend. That had actually been some good thinking on Lea's part.

I laid there for a few minutes more, seeing as how there wasn't exactly any rush for me to be up yet. I took the time I needed to make sure I had fully composed myself and was ready to face this day and whatever new challenges it may hold. Or at the very least, whatever new challenges breakfast may hold. Finally, I felt ready enough to sit myself up and get off the bed. I started crossing the room towards the door but only got half way before I heard it.

Voices beyond the door. Two of them. One obviously Lea. The other? Going to go with the obvious choice here and say Saïx.

I immediately froze mid step as I recalled last night. Recalled the last things I'd said and done in front of him before pulling a vanishing act into Lea's room. Oh gosh, how was I ever going to face him after that? I couldn't. Plain and simple. If I went out there, Saïx would merely take one look at me and I'd just shrivel up and die of humiliation right then and there. But what else could I do? I had to leave Lea's room at some point. It's not like I could just hide in here forever!

...hey, now there was an idea. I could just hide in here forever.

Damn it, Elsa, no! Stop being so ridiculous! You're going to woman up and march your little hiney straight out there! Saïx was a nice guy. He wasn't cruel. He probably wouldn't even bring it up, just pretend like it'd never happened. If he could be an adult about it and have some tact, then so could I!

My nostrils flared in determination and I gave my cheeks a couple light slaps before nodding firmly, making my way towards the door again. I reached it. My hand was going for the doorknob. My fingers were closing around it. I was about to turn it. Honestly, I really, truly was! But then I stopped again. This time however, it had nothing to do with Saïx or my anxiety.

No, this time what brought me up short was my reflection staring back at me in the long mirror hanging on the back of the door. More specifically, at what I was wearing. At my penguin-printed stockings, wrinkled now from what was most likely some tossing and turning last night. At my dress, rumpled and creased and looking quite clearly slept in.

Shoot, if Lea had taken care to not make it obvious that actual zilch had happened in his bed last night, I should make the same effort, shouldn't I? But unlike him, I didn't have half my wardrobe just scattered about the room for me to change into. Fudge, what was I even supposed to look like after spending the night with a boyfriend? I had no clue! No personal experience to draw from.

Think, think… okay, how did girls look and dress the morning after in movies and TV shows?

I pursed my lips to one side, turning around so my eyes could scan the bedroom. Then I took a step forward, shifting some of the discarded clothes on the carpet about with my foot. I bent down to pick one up, saw it was pants and shook my head, tossing it aside. Another step, some more sifting. Ah! There! My fingers closed around some fabric and I pulled it free of the others before straightening back up, taking it in both hands and spreading it out to reveal a shirt. A tee-shirt, to be more precise, one that was black and bore a faded, cracked symbol that kind of looked like a wide, fancy, angular V. Beneath it was a washed out image of some sort of red, mechanical-looking lion.

I frowned at the top.

Oh gosh, was I really going to go through with this?

...the answer was yes. Yes, I was.

Locking the bedroom door, I quickly shimmied out of my stockings and tossed them onto the bed. Next went my dress, joining the tights on the mattress. Then I pulled the shirt on over my head, doing my best to ignore his boy scent clinging to it as I shoved my arms through the sleeves and tugged the hem as far down as it would go, which turned out to be about mid-thigh. It fit surprisingly well. Maybe that shouldn't have come as such a surprise - the boy did have a tendency to wear his shirts rather tight.

...not that I noticed such things.

I turned to face my reflection once more, giving myself a quick once over. Yes, I think this would do quite nicely. But then my eyes settled on my braid in the mirror, messy and a bit tangled. Clearly, that wouldn't do. I pulled it free, quickly unraveling it before combing my fingers through my hair a few times and ruffling it about a bit. There. That looked more appropriately bed-tousled now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Bruni out and about in his enclosure, eyeing me from atop one of his rocks. I grinned and asked him softly, "How do I look?"

He licked his eyeball.

I snorted, muttering, "One of these days I'm going to have to figure out what that means. For now, I'll just take it as a compliment." I then looked back down at the doorknob. My hand started reaching for it, but hesitated midway. My fingers clenched into a ball. Then unclenched. I took a tiny, trembling breath against the nervous tightening in my chest.

Alright, Elsa, quick mental checklist. Boyfriend shirt? On. Legs? Bare. Hair? Down. Plan of attack? Locked and loaded. You got this. I gave myself a quick shake, hitched my chin, squared my shoulders and opened the door.

Saïx seated at the dining table was the first thing I saw when I silently padded out. His back was to me as he took a sip from a glass of water, his eyes seemingly glued to his laptop screen, free hand tapping away at the keyboard. There was a warm plate of food on the table between it and him, along with a second full dish laid out before the empty seat to his right.

Lea was in the kitchen, fixing another plate together. He didn't look my way immediately for he seemed too focused on his task, but he must have heard me open the door for he called out a chipper, "Mornin', babycakes! Hope you're hungry! I whipped us up some eggs benny and crispy home fr-"

This was the exact second he turned to look at me, eyes going round.

Which, incidentally, was also the same exact second he dropped the plate he was holding.

"Shit!" he jerked back as it shattered against the linoleum, making food spatter everywhere and me wince. He squatted down and started snatching up the broken shards. However his slack-jawed gaze drifted back up towards me, his hands slowing. Then he flinched and dropped all the jagged pieces, hissing out a soft, "Fuck," as he looked back down at his now bleeding finger.

I rushed forward, passing Saïx (who hadn't even so much as looked up, just remained concentrated on his computer) and stretching my hand out towards Lea, "Here, let me help you with-"

He blanched and yelped, "Don't!" Leaping towards me, he slipped on some Hollandaise but managed to catch himself with a desperate grab for the edge of the countertop before finally reaching me, grabbing my arms and stopping me in my tracks right at the threshold of the kitchen. Then, with face full of stern intensity and utmost seriousness, he told me, "Foot slice, you will!"

I stared blankly back at him.

"Open!" he frantically tacked after a beat.

Oh. Well then, okay, when you put it that way, now it made total sense.

Except for, ya know… not. Not one bit.

He cleared his throat and tried again, "You'll slice your foot open! So don't go in there. Don't even worry about it, 'kay? I'll take care of it." I gave a slow nod and he puffed out a relieved breath. Then he made a pained tch through his teeth, releasing me to stick his still bloody fingertip into his mouth before taking it back out to shoot a tiny scowl at the cut.

Okay, so there had been a minor hiccup. But one shattered plate changed nothing. My plan of attack was still a go.

Ignoring the heat I felt creeping up the back of my neck now, my face hardened with resolve as I told him, "Good morning." Then while he was still distracted by giving his finger the evil eye, I stretched up onto my tiptoes and planted a kiss firmly to his cheek.

That was it. That was my whole plan.

Saïx better be getting a good eyeful, seeing how this bit of theater (complete with costume) was being put on purely for his benefit.

Lea's spine snapped rigid as he locked a wide-eyed stare on me. Strange. Why did he suddenly seem so flushed? Dropping my gaze to his injured finger, I stepped closer to him, taking his hand in mine as I asked, "Are you okay? Let me see."

He opened his mouth and words came out. Or at least, I think they were supposed to be words. However, they sounded more like garbled gibberish. I blinked then looked back up at him, knitting my eyebrows together. He abruptly staggered back a step, yanking his hand free of my grasp so he could cough into his fist and thump it against his chest, croaking out, "Fine." Further coughing and chest thumping, then he repeated with more strength, "Fine. I'm, uh… I'm f-fine… Chair!" I jumped in surprise as he suddenly lunged for a seat, the one across the table from Saïx. Pulling it out, he said, "Please. You. Down. Er… here?"

I frowned uncertainly before sitting in it.

I mean, I think that's what he was asking me to do.

As he pushed it in behind me, I said, "You're certainly very, ah… eloquent this morning."

"Sorry," he chuckled weakly. "Better mouth, I'll make." He tensed, one eye ticking before grounding out slowly, "I'll. Talk. Better." Then he shoved the second plate of food that was already on the table - which I assumed had originally been for him - from its spot in front of the empty chair over towards me before he all but bolted back into the kitchen.

...why did he keep talking like Yoda?

Glancing across the table, I noticed that I didn't seem to be the only one confused. Behind his sleek glasses (that I'd just realized he was wearing now that I could fully see his face) Saïx's dull stare was flicking back and forth between me and Lea, one eyebrow quirked.

I heard Lea grunt out a low "Ow" behind me, followed by the tinkle of what I assumed was more of those plate shards. Seemingly losing interest again, Saïx's eyes returned to his laptop as he called out dryly, "Might I suggest the broom and dustpan?"

There was a long pause. Then a sheepish laugh, "Right. Broom. Smart."

The sound of feet scrambling, followed by a thud, then Lea suddenly appeared over next to the small door leading into the pantry. Retrieving said cleaning implements out of it, he slammed it shut once more before our eyes met and he froze. Then with a dopey, lopsided grin, he clicked his tongue and shot me a finger gun, nearly dropping the broom with the action. He fumbled to catch it, winced, then darted back around the corner, disappearing into the kitchen once more.

...he was acting so weird.

Sighing, I took my fork up in hand and started picking at my food, eating a few of the fried potatoes. I could hear Lea sweeping back there, intermixed with what also sounded like him throwing together another plate of food for himself. After a few more minutes, he reappeared at the pantry to shove both items back in, the broom handle popping back out to smack him in the face before he managed to slam the door shut with a tiny growl. Then he looped back around through the kitchen, coming out the other side with his fresh dish in hand and taking a seat between me and Saïx. As his plate clattered unceremoniously onto the table, I noticed his eggs Benedict looked a lot more sloppily thrown together than my own.

He looked at me. Then down at his breakfast. Then back at me, this time with another grin and an oddly hoarse, "Hi."

"...hi?" I smiled back hesitantly.

His lips parted, then clicked shut again. Then parted once more, taking in a breath like he was actually going to say something this time. But nope, false alarm. He hastily looked away and plonked his elbow on the table, propping the front of his chin against his palm, teeth gnawing on the side of his hand as his knee started jiggling up and down. His eyes kept flicking about, one second staring straight ahead, the next at me out of his peripheral. Then back and forth again. And yet again. That redness started creeping into his face once more.

I elected to fixate on my food, cutting into my poached egg and slipping a bite into my mouth. I didn't know what else to do, really. What to say. There was something… heavy in the air, though I didn't know quite what exactly. Whatever it was, it made finding words difficult, even for small talk. If Saïx noticed the odd tension, he gave no outward sign as he continued to type away at the keys. Several minutes ticked by where that tip-tapping from the laptop was all that could be heard.

Suddenly I felt tiny pleasant tingles trailing through my scalp. With a start, I looked up to discover Lea watching me through half-lidded eyes as he gently tucked my pale bangs behind my ear. His fingers went on from there to tangle themselves in my hair and lightly run through the length of it, all the way down to the bottom, eliciting a little shiver from me. Then our eyes met, he blinked, gaze widening and snatching his hand back. His fingers splayed and flexed before curling into a fist that he shoved between his knees as he let out a gruff, "Sorry."

Face hot, I averted my eyes. "What for? You have no reason to be."

He was just doing his part as my rent-a-boyfriend, after all.

"Right. Sorry… about the, uh… the…" he cleared his throat, "...about the first sorry."

And once again, Saïx's typing took over in dominating the table conversation.

I put my fork down to tug at the hem of my borrowed shirt. I should have found a longer one. I hadn't taken into account the fact that it'd ride up a bit while I was sitting. Unfortunately, pulling at it seemed to be doing little good.

Making a small noise in his throat, Lea stared hard up at the ceiling, knee frantically bouncing once more.

"Did you say something?" I asked him as I retrieved my fork.

"What? No. Me? No. Mm-mm," he shook his head rapidly. Then he inhaled sharply through his nose and held it, unblinking eyes staring off into space for a few seconds before releasing the breath noisily. "Actually! Saïx! Brother! Bro! Brometheus! Bromie G-Funk! C-3PBro! My one and bronly! How'd, um… how'd work go last night?"

Saïx's fingers stilled and he glanced towards Lea, frowning at him over the rim of his glasses. "...you already asked me that while you were cooking earlier."

"Oh," he chuckled. "Right." Saïx resumed clacking away. He couldn't have gotten more than a few words written however before Lea spoke up once more, "What was the answer again?"

Twitching, Saïx came to another stop. "It went fine," he enunciated, tone flat and even.

"That's right, I remember now," Lea nodded slowly. "Heh… riveting."

Saïx went back to ignoring him.

With only a few bites left on my dish at this point, I glanced over at Lea's and realized he'd hardly touched his. "You haven't eaten much."

"Huh?" He glanced my way, crimson flooding back into his cheeks. Then down at his breakfast, both eyebrows raised as if he wasn't exactly sure what it was he was looking at now. "I…? Oh! Silly me. Forgot. Must be distracted by all this… lively discourse!" Seizing his fork, he scooped it through some potatoes, brought it up to his mouth and bit down.

Straight into the metal fork handle.

For you see, he'd picked it up the wrong way.

"Been using forks long?" Saïx deadpanned, not looking up from his laptop screen.

Lea's eyelids drooped as he flipped him the bird. And there his knee went again, jounce, jounce, jouncing away at a mile a minute as he tossed the silverware back down onto the table. "You know what? Don't think I'm all that hungry after all."

I tipped my head to one side, squinting at him. What was with him today? First with fumbling things - the plate, the broom - and just his unusual amounts of clumsiness in general. Then of course there'd been his jumbled and incoherent talking. Now the mixup with the fork and he had no appetite? Not to mention he was still really red. Like, super red. It was almost as if he were-

Wait… could it be…? Was he…?

Of course! That must be it! Oh gosh, it was so obvious now! Why hadn't I realized it sooner?

"Are you sick?" I leaned towards him, pressing the backs of my curled fingers to his forehead. He stiffened under my touch, going stock still. I frowned, "You're a little warm. You might have a fever." I trailed my knuckles down to his cheek, checking to see if the temperature was consistent throughout his face.

"Fine!" he snagged my wrist and abruptly stood, knee whacking the underside of the table as he did so, causing all the plates to give a violent rattle. "I'm… I feel fine! Just…" he hastily dropped my wrist, his hand going to drag along the nape of his neck, "...it's just it's... way too hot in this place! Yeah! I'm gonna go open up a window, get some fresh air in here!" He practically blurred into the kitchen, throwing the one just over the sink wide open with a loud bang before rushing back into his seat, nearly toppling it and him over with his momentum.

"Ah, much better, don'tcha think?" he beamed. Then without waiting for an answer, he started shoveling food into his mouth like a man starved - thankfully with the correct end of the fork this time. He only stopped when he realized we were both staring at him. He swallowed his current mouthful and gave a small laugh, "Er… turns out there was a bit of a rumbly in my tumbly after all?"

...if this was him trying to convince us he wasn't suffering from some sort of bug, he was failing. Miserably.

With a drawn-out sigh through his nose, Saïx slowly began to rise from his own chair. As he picked up his own plate, I was a little surprised to see he had already finished every last morsel on it. I hadn't noticed him eating at all. I hadn't even thought his fingers had ever left his keyboard this whole time.

As he walked past us towards the kitchen, I finished the last bite on my plate before standing as well. Lea glanced my way out of the corner of his eye while chewing, so I took the opportunity to smile softly at him and place my hand on his shoulder. The muscle twitch beneath my fingertips and his jaw stilled as I told him quietly, "Thank you. It was delicious."

Then I took my plate and turned to follow Saïx into the kitchen. As I walked, I could feel this tiny itch in the center of my back right between my shoulderblades. I think Lea's gaze was still on me. Shrugging it off, I came to a stop next to Saïx as he ran the faucet over his dish and squirted some soap into a sponge. I got in line to wash my own plate, setting it down on the countertop beside the sink while I waited.

Saïx gave me a quick look and we exchanged smiles. The tiny, awkward smiles of two antisocial shut-ins. Oddly enough, I felt comfortable in our mutual introversion. I hadn't even thought once about the way I'd embarrassed myself last night in front of him. Though, I guess that could just be because I'd been too distracted by Lea's weirdness all morning. Regardless, Saïx and I then settled into a companionable silence as he set to work.

And still that itch along my spine remained.

A breeze drifted in through the window over the sink, brushing along my skin and toying with strands of my hair. I gave a low hum at how nice it felt and I reached back to gather my locks together, sweeping them forward over one shoulder where I idly began to finger-comb them.

The scraping of Lea's chair along the floor was the only warning I had, one that I paid little mind to.

The next I knew, his arms were slipping around my waist to hug me from behind and his lips were pressing a soft, tender kiss to the side of my neck. Shockwaves of icy heat cascaded out from that one small point to ripple throughout the rest of my body.

I was forgetting to do something. I think it was important. Possibly even life sustaining and-

Ah. Breathing. That was it.

Lea lingered for a few seconds more, his breath warming the now hypersensitive skin there and I had to suppress a small quiver. The tip of his nose brushed along my jawline as he then brought his lips up to my ear, whispering silkily, "For appearances." Aka, for Saïx, standing not two feet away from us. Lea planted one more swift peck to my temple before withdrawing his arms and pulling away.

Oh gosh, he'd been right. It was really so very hot in here, wasn't it? Sweltering, in fact. Were there more windows we could open? I think I was on the verge of melting here.

I slowly brought a hand up to cover the spot where it still tingled from his lips, casting a brief glance back over my shoulder. Lea had settled himself against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, his fingers drumming along its edge, his head bowed and eyes darting about, landing on anything and everything but me. I looked forward once more, biting down into my lower lip and rubbing the back of my leg with my other foot. The skin under my palm felt like it was searing and I could swear he'd left a scorch mark there. I didn't know what to do with this. How to react. I mean, it was okay… right? I had given him permission after all to kiss any bare skin with the only thing off limits being directly on the mouth. He'd just never kissed… there before. No one had. I hadn't expected it to be so, er… intimate.

With a start, I realized Saïx was studying me, expression unreadable. To be fair, that's how his face usually was. Still, I suddenly felt self-conscious and I had to resist the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. He looked away, sticking his dish on the drying rack and reaching for mine, muttering, "I'll take care of it."

I frowned, "But-"

"Wouldn't want another broken plate," he said simply as he put it under the flow of steaming water. I furrowed my brow at the statement and he closed his eyes. "You look like you might be catching the same illness Lea has."

Blast it all, I needed to figure out how to get this whole stupid blushing issue of mine under control! It used to not be such a problem. I never used to blush at all, not until Lea waltzed into my life.

The big, dumb, beautiful jerk.

"...thank you," I murmured, referring to my dish with a nod, unable to come up with anything better to say. Perhaps now would just be a good time to escape. I turned to go only to end up stumbling back into the counter, biting back a yelp.

For I hadn't expected Lea to suddenly be standing right there, smack dab in front of me all super close now. His hand was raised, frozen midway to my face. He looked guilty, like a kid who'd been caught reaching into the cookie jar. His wide eyes darted from me to his hand and back again. Then he muttered under his breath, "Welp. This is happening."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Wha-?"

That one syllable was all I got out before he'd suddenly hoisted me up and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. My fingers scrabbled and clutched at the back of his tanktop, trying to find purchase so I could prop myself up.

Just what the heck was he doing now?!

He erupted into booming laughter and slapped Saïx on the shoulder. "Well, my dude, got another hour to kill before my class starts, so I think the lil lady and I are gonna head back to my room for round two!" My head shot up, face roasting. Excuse me? "Or is it round eight? Round nine? Bah, I've lost track since last night!" Well that was certainly a bold claim there, stud. "That's right, a lil more of the ol' forbidden polka, if ya know what I mean." Even that oven mitt over there knew what you meant. Seriously, you can stop now. "Boinking! That's what I mean!" And yet, he was still going. "Ya know, really rattle the ol' headboard! Except, ah, heh… no headboard. But still-" I kneed him in the gut, forcing a grunt out of him. I think he got the hint. "Right! Anyway! I know you're heading to bed now, so we'll try to keep the roughhousing to a minimum! No promises though! Sleep tight, man!"

Thankfully, mercifully, he spun us around then so he could carry me off to his room. That brought me face-to-face with Saïx as Lea jogged off. The man's expression was as indecipherable as ever as he watched us go, but if I had to take a guess, I'd say he looked just about as bewildered as I felt. That was the last thing I saw before Lea crossed the threshold and kicked his door shut behind him.

My back was suddenly hitting the mattress as he dropped me into his bed. I sat up quickly, bracing myself on one hand as I tucked my legs in beside me and yanked down the hem of my shirt. Then I looked up at Lea and my whole body tensed.

He was standing at the foot of the bed, so very still and just… staring at me. His face was a mask, giving nothing away. But his eyes… now those were a different story. They were so intense, so dark and… swirling with something I couldn't quite put a name to. It was sucking all the oxygen out of the room. It made my fingers unconsciously grip at the comforter more tightly. Made my pulse race and the spot on my neck where his lips had been prickle slightly.

Neither of us moved or spoke for several seconds. Several… very long seconds. When I did finally manage to find my voice, it was small and uncertain as I asked, "...Lea?"

He blinked at the sound of his name. Once, twice, then slowly gave his head a small shake, like he was coming out of some sort of trance. He grimaced, bringing one hand up to cover his face but not before I spotted some of that redness creeping back into it. He groaned, dragging his palm down to just over his mouth instead, eyes narrowed on the floor as he grumbled, "Sorry, I'm… I was just… ah, nevermind."

He turned away, dragging his feet towards the bathroom door and stretching one arm over his head as he went. "I'm gonna hop in the shower. I take 'em long, so you should have more than enough time to change, but I'll knock before coming back in justa be on the safe side. Saïx's probably back in his own room already, so you can wait out there if ya want. Or in here. Wherever. Then I can drop ya off any place you want on my way to class, 'kay?"

It took him glancing back my way from beyond the door frame for me to realize he was actually waiting for some sort of reply. "...okay," was the best I could come up with, still in the same tone I'd said his name. He gave a tired-looking smile and a small nod before closing the door. It wasn't until I heard the shower running that all that tension coiling inside of me at last dispersed and my whole body slumped.

Something strange had just happened. I didn't know what. All I knew was I felt relief now that it was over. But also… oddly enough, a bit… disappointed?

Shaking the feeling away, I scooched myself off the bed and quickly changed back into my own clothes, leaving his shirt on the mattress. Then I slipped into my ankle boots, zipping them up before pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail. Not forgetting the Twilight University course catalog, I grabbed it off the nightstand, my fingers fiddling with one of its corners as I glanced about the room.

It was actually feeling a bit claustrophobic in here, so maybe waiting out in the living room would be for the best. Or better yet, out on the sidewalk where I could get some fresh air. Yeah, that sounded like just what I needed right now. Giving Bruni a tiny wave with one finger, I moved to the door and quietly opened it a crack to peek out.

I could make out the dining table, where the only thing left on it was Lea's half eaten breakfast - Saïx had probably felt zero obligation to clean up after his brother. His laptop was gone so it looked like he had indeed retreated to his own bedroom. I quietly slipped out, softly shutting the door behind me before leaning back against it, closing my eyes and heaving a low sigh through my nose.

"You two aren't really dating."

Those five little words made me jolt and nearly topple over, but I steadied myself against the door. My breathing shallow, I glanced to the left to discover Saïx standing in his own doorway, arms crossed and shoulder propped against the frame. His eyes were pinning me with a flat look, his lips settled into an almost imperceptible frown.

I paled, both eyebrows shooting up my forehead as I stammered, "I… We… That is… How did you-"

"Don't worry," he harrumphed, turning his head to one side. "Your secret is safe with my indifference."

...well that was good

At least, I think it was.

I tucked in my bottom lip, eyes shifting about for a few seconds. "...what... gave it away?"

"I wish we were real," he recited Lea's words blandly, the same ones that had been haunting me since last night. So Saïx had overheard that after all. "There were other things after that. Things I might have overlooked otherwise despite the fact that Lea can be painfully transparent sometimes."

My head tilted to the left. "What do you mean?"

He held my gaze for a long moment. Then his eyes closed and he gave a soft, almost amused hmph. "That would be telling. Regardless, it'd probably be for the best if you kept him away from alcohol for the remainder of your little charade, however long that may be." He turned his back to me, reaching for his door but then stopped. "And please… try to be careful with my brother. I'd rather not see him get hurt."

"...hurt?" I blinked. "What-"

But he simply closed his door, leaving me to wonder at his cryptic words.

"Actually, could you please drop me off at the mall instead?"

Lea glanced my way, tipping his head forward so he could look at me over his aviators. Then he smirked, pushing the sunglasses back up with his middle finger as his eyes returned to the road and he flicked off his turn signal. "Good for you," he said as we sped past my apartment complex.

I shrugged, twisting a tendril of my ponytail between my fingers. "I'm just going to talk to them. It's no big deal."

"Sure that's all it is," he nodded solemnly, still grinning. He was back to his usual self again. Not a trace left of that weirdness from earlier this morning. Guess that shower he took really did the trick. "You're gonna love Sally and Jack. They're quite the characters… bit oddball, but some of the nicest, friendliest people you'll ever meet. And I'm calling it now: they're gonna adore you. I wouldn't be surprised if they offered you the lead in their musical after only talking to ya for five minutes."

Snorting, I rolled my eyes, "That's not how it works."

"You're right. I'm selling you short." Out popped that dimpled of his, "Make that three minutes."

"Shush," I shoved his shoulder and he chuckled as he turned the car into the Dusk Town Center parking lot.

"Alright, alright, I'll shush up about it," he mimed zipping his lips. "You know where Halloween Town is in there, right? Remember how to get to Blitzball Sports from the food court? It's not too far past that, just keep an eye out for the swirling dark vortex of spook and nightmare, ya can't miss it."

"Sounds like I'm in for a treat," I gave a small smile.

"Something like that," he snerked as he pulled up to the curb in front of the mall entrance, the flow of shoppers coming and going around us thick at the moment. Lea reached across me to open my car door and I was mildly irked at the tiny flutter my heart gave in response to his sudden nearness. He didn't pull back right away, instead raising his sunglasses to sit atop his hair as he looked over at me, his eyes crinkling. Then his hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me close so he could plant a light kiss to my forehead. "Have fun, meu chuchuzinho," he beamed, his fingers mussing up my bangs.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Portuguese," he chirped, answering my unvoiced question, "for my lil squash!"

Not even gracing that with a reply, I just heaved a sigh, unbuckled my seatbelt, smoothed my hair and got out of the car.

He called out after me, "We'll say that one's a maybe! And oh! Almost forgot. If you run into Vanibutt at Halloween Town, don't take anything that lil punkass says too seriously. He's like that 'round all girls. My guess? His mom didn't give him enough hugs as a kid. Just call him Beetlejuice, got it? He likes it."

My eyelids drooped. "Somehow I highly doubt that," I said, closing the car door before he could make any further wisecracks.

He just winked and made heart hands at me through the window before driving away. I shook my head as I watched him go, face warming as my fingertips brushed over my forehead at the same spot where his lips had just been.

I hadn't mentioned anything to him about what Saïx had said to me. About the fact that he'd figured out our little secret. Somehow, I'd got the impression from Saïx that our little talk was supposed to stay just between us. I guess it really wouldn't have made a difference if Lea knew one way or another. Still, it felt weird not telling him. Maybe Saïx would tell Lea himself in his own time. Puffing out a breath, I waited until I could no longer see his car before I turned and passed through those double doors leading into the food court.

It didn't take me long to find my way back to Blitzball Sports. Business was slow in there at the moment and I could see inside where two employees were bouncing a ball back and forth between them. They honestly looked like a couple of beach bums, the shorter one with shaggy, sandy hair and the other with a 'do done up into a large, orange coif. Next door at the Glass Slipper, I could see the shoe clerk there - a blonde girl in her teens - being run ragged by a particularly nasty looking customer and her two bratty daughters. Ah, the joys and glamor of customer service. Silently sending my sympathy to the poor salesperson, I pushed onward.

Hm, let's see here… Hair, Here, Everywhere? No, that was a hair and beauty salon. Looking past the Flower Gleam And Glow poster on the window boasting a new anti-aging cream, I spotted one of the stylists - an energetic young woman whose employment in a barber shop seemed rather ironic. Her long flaxen hair down to her ankles had probably never known the firm snip of a pair of scissors.

Next to that, we had… what did that old, broken, retro sign even say? Space Paranoids? Yeesh, it was certainly gaudy with all those light-up neon tubes decorating its walls, wasn't it? Oh gosh, I think it was a laser tag place. I didn't even know those still existed nowadays.

Then there was the little kiosk in the middle of the walkway, dubbed The Key Graveyard. Some sort of key copy booth, I think. I edged my way around it, giving it a wide berth. The bald, old man working it had creepy eyes that gave me the willies.

Oh, now there was a store name I recognized: The Crayon Box. And what luck, Naminé was even behind the counter there at the moment. She caught my eye with a sweet smile and a wave. I returned it before moving on, looking to my left. Across the way from the little art supply store was…

Ah-ha! Halloween Town! Lea's words hadn't done it justice. The whole store front was decorated with gothic tombstones, synthetic yet sinister jack-o-lanterns, and eerie silhouette cutouts of shadow faces. The doorway was even fashioned with a large wrought iron gate to give one the impression of walking into a decrepit old cemetery.

I hesitated at the entrance, gnawing on my lower lip. It wasn't the ghoulish ambiance that was giving me pause however. Instead it was a familiar, chilling doubt creeping its way up inside my chest.

What was I even doing here? Did I really think I could talk? To strangers? About singing? In a musical, no less? A musical, for crying out loud! Did I not know myself but at all? What was I thinking? If I was struggling to even go inside right now to merely introduce myself to a couple new people, what made me think I could ever possibly stand on a stage to perform in front of a whole auditorium?

...then again… musicals were a little different, weren't they? Musicals had scripts. Scripts made things so much easier. Scripts made it so you knew exactly what to expect. No surprises, no uncertainty, all you had to do was stick to the script. Scripts were comfortable. Life would be so much simpler if it were like a musical, one where I had a script to follow. Musicals were just so… nice. Full of songs and dancing. You'd forget the audience was even there and all you were left with was pure joy. I remembered how they made me feel as a child. Like I finally had somewhere I truly belonged. Being a part of them was the last time I remembered feeling like I had been sincerely, genuinely happy. I… think I might like it… if maybe I could recapture some of that old feeling. Even just a little bit of it.

My hands clenched at my sides and my nostrils flared.

I could do this. I could walk inside, meet these individuals and ask some questions. Just a few measly questions. It didn't even have to go beyond that. I could change my mind at any time if I wanted to. This was nothing. Just one small step, that's all.

With a reassuring nod to myself, I marched inside.

The place looked like the Dark Prince Dracula himself had exploded in here. Just the whole doom and gloom aesthetic covering every inch from floor to ceiling. The store practically overflowed with its goth merch, making the walkways cramped as I tried to navigate through it all, looking for a Jack, a Sally, or someone who could point me to either of them. Unfortunately, I wasn't having any luck beyond running into a handful of shoppers perusing the goods. They gave me blank stares as I passed them. I must have stuck out like a sore thumb here.

Perhaps I was going about this all wrong. Maybe instead of me looking for an employee, I should just stop and let an employee find me. That did tend to be a part of the whole working retail shtick, after all.

As I came to a halt and waited for someone to (hopefully) ask me if I needed help finding anything, I glanced around. I had parked myself in front of one of the stores more, shall we say... unique items for sale. A very large, very regal, very frightful looking high-backed prop chair embellished in plastic skeletons and glowing jack-o-lanterns. I squinted at the little plaque next to it on the black wall, declaring it to be the throne of the Pumpkin King. Jeez, it was expensive too. Who would even pay that much for such a monstrosity?

"You lost, little girl?"

I gasped, jumping at the sudden voice. Wait… I recognized that voice. Had heard it not too long ago. But had it really come from where it sounded like it had? Wrinkling my brow, I looked up.

There, sitting atop the high backrest of the throne with an elbow propped on one knee and chin in his palm, was none other than Vanitas. He smirked down at me from his perch, gold eyes flickering bright in this otherwise dark place. There was something moving, cozying itself up around his shoulders… some sort of critter, I suspected, but it was hard to tell from down here.

Well, I'd been hoping someone who worked here would find me. I guess this was the very definition of be careful what you wish for because you might just get it.

I took a step backwards, fidgeting with my fingers. "Um… Excuse me, but could you help me find-"

"Sorry," he grumbled in a tone that was anything but apologetic as he hopped down to land in front of me, pointing a finger at his now apathetic expression, "but does this look like the face of someone who gives two fucks what you want?"

I grimaced, moving another step back. His gaze was making me anxious and I was unable to hold it, instead opting to shift my eyes over to the creature on his shoulder. Now that it was closer, I could see it was a hairless sphynx cat, black with red eyes. Did its collar say… Flood? What a strange thing to name a pet. I must not have been reading it right. Licking my dry lips, I muttered, "Well, I… suppose I'll just go find someone else th-"

"What was your name again?" Vanitas interrupted me, eyes narrowing as he got in my face now. It seemed he had absolutely zero awareness of personal boundaries. He started to slowly circle me, eyeing me up and down, "...Emma? Ilsa?"

"Elsa," I corrected with a tiny scowl, back stiff as I felt a chill creep up it while he passed behind me. This guy was getting on my nerves. Before I could stop myself, I snapped, "And yours was what? Beetlejuice?"

...can't believe you actually went there, mouth. That was childish. Lea was a bad influence.

"Cute. Bet your boyfriend told you to say that," he snerked, finishing his tiny lap around me and coming to a stop, bringing us face-to-face once more. His cat was making a low growling noise as it watched me and Vanitas brought up his fingers to scratch behind one of its large, jagged ears. "Still, it took balls to actually say it. Looks like you got some bite beneath your chilly exterior, eh Frosty?"

My scowl deepened and I backed up another step, my spine coming into contact with the end of a wide shelf. I hoped he couldn't hear the small tremor in my voice as I shot back, "And looks like you have a bad memory beneath your boorish exterior. I just told you what my name is and it isn't Frosty."

Elsa, Queen of the Death Wish.

Seriously, why was I antagonizing this guy? This was a bad idea. I knew that and yet I couldn't seem to help myself. He was making me antsy. My heartbeat hammered and my hands were clammy. I felt a bit like a cornered animal, lashing out in a futile attempt to keep a larger predator at bay.

His lips curled wolfishly. At least he seemed to find me amusing. Although, I wasn't quite sure if that was really a good thing. "You know, I'm starting to see why Red has his panties all in a twist over you." His cat leapt down to the floor and started weaving itself between my ankles. Doing my best not to trip over it, I tried to sidestep so I could regain some distance and possibly even altogether escape but Vanitas's hand shot out, palm slamming against the shelf behind me, his arm now blocking my path.

"Yeah," he continued, rubbing a curled finger to his chin as his unsettling grin grew toothier, "you got sorta this whole pure, innocent Catholic schoolgirl vibe going on that really makes a guy want to corrupt the fuck outta you. Tell ya what, Frosty," he leaned in closer and my jaw clenched as he clacked his silver tongue stud against his teeth, "if you ever get bored of that loser, gimme a call. I'll show you a real good t-"

"Bad Vani!" Suddenly the boy was getting spritzed in the side of the face with some kind of liquid and he jerked back, stumbling away from me. A young woman stepped forward, glowering at him as she sprayed him a couple more times with the water bottle she was holding. "Stop scaring the customers!"

"God fucking damnit, woman!" he snarled back, angrily scrubbing his sleeve along his damp cheek. "You can't do that to me! I am darkness! I am fear! I am-"

Eyelids drooping, she squirted his face with more water. He spat out a long string of curse words before flipping her off and running away, his cat hissing and scampering after him.

Sighing and shaking her head, she then turned to me with a small smile, "Sorry about him. We keep him around because he's really good with the regulars, but he does seem to take perverse pleasure in spooking any newcomers, or 'fresh meat,'" her fingers bounced in air quotes, "as he likes to call them. He shouldn't bother you again however. In any case, I'm Sally, how can I help you?"

Ah, so this was Sally. Thank goodness she didn't seem anything like her coworker. She was pretty, if somewhat distressingly pale. And that was coming from me, so that was saying something. Why, standing next to her, I practically looked tan. Her long red hair came down to her waist and peeking out from the neckline of her colorful, eccentric patchwork dress was a neck tattoo that looked like a line of crisscross stitches wrapping all the way around.

"Oh, er… hello…" my hands folded over one another against my stomach. Then fell awkwardly to my sides. Then, after some hesitation, I stretched one out for a handshake, "My name is Elsa. I…" my mind drew a total blank and my anxiety spiked. Grasping at straws, I blurted out the first thing I could remember, "Lea sent me."

Wow, that sounded so cloak-and-dagger.

Sally accepted my hand, her smile growing warmer. "Oh, so you're the one he's been talking our ears off about. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." She twisted around slightly, calling back over her shoulder, "Jack? Elsa's here. You remember… Lea's girlfriend?"

A few seconds later a man emerged from between the racks of black leather apparel and spiked accessories. Jeez, he was tall. At least as tall as Lea if not having him beat by a couple inches. The big difference here however was Lea at least had some meat on his bones, where as this guy was more just skin and bones. A walking stick. I'd give him this however, he was quite the dapper dresser in his black suit with a bit of goth flair to it. His short, poofy hair was a stark white and he struck me with a huge, face-splitting grin that would have given Sora a run for his munny.

"Ah yes! The one interested in trying out for our new production! Nice to meet you, nice to meet you!" He grabbed my hand with both of his, giving it a couple shakes that rocked my whole body. "Wow, just look at you! The hair, those eyes, that complexion! You would make an absolutely stunning Glinda!"

Placing gentle fingers on his arm, Sally said, "Slow down, Jack. Remember what Lea said?"

"Right! Sorry, I have a bad habit of getting ahead of myself in my enthusiasm," he laughed, long thin fingers scratching at his cheek. "You've been out of the musical game for a while now, isn't that right?"

Sweeping my ponytail forward to run my hands down it, I nodded. "Yes… yes, it's been a few years. Not since I was a child, in fact, so I'm a bit rusty." My face pinched and I looked down, "Well... more like a lot rusty."

"That's okay!" he brushed off, his hand batting the air. "We welcome everyone, especially beginners! We just love introducing people to the wonderful world of theater! To the magic! The drama!" he boomed the last word, curling his fingers skyward before him theatrically.

"Tone it back a bit, dear," Sally affectionately stroked his cheek before turning her gaze back on me. "Jack's an actor, if you couldn't tell, though he does dabble in directing from time to time too. I'm more behind the scenes. I like to help with the costuming and techie work."

My head tipped to one side, recalling Jack had said something about Glinda. "Is your upcoming show going to be The Wizard of Oz?"

"Wicked, actually," he corrected before bringing his hands together with a clap. "And in fact, we're holding auditions tomorrow starting at 5 PM over at the Sunset Hill Auditorium! You should swing by and try out. It'd be good to get some new blood in there!"

"What?" I blinked, before quickly shaking my head and holding up a hand with a feeble chuckle, "Oh no. No, I don't think so. I was just curious to learn more about your group, but I don't think I'm ready for… well, for anything like that."

"Still, you should absolutely stop in and check us out. You can just observe if you want. May I borrow your phone?" Sally asked. I chewed my bottom lip before digging it out and letting her take it from me. She tapped in something real quick then handed it back. "There. You have the address now and you're welcome to come by, even if it's just to hang out. We're a real open and friendly lot. Just a bunch of overgrown theater kids, really."

"Thanks," I murmured, staring down at the location she'd entered into my phone for a second before pocketing it once more. Then I pursed my lips to one side, averting my gaze to appear more interested than I actually was in the vampire fangs hanging in the display to my right. "...so what exactly would one need to do to prepare for an audition? Just for curiosity's sake," I tacked on the last part quickly, faintly blushing.

It was just an innocent question. Not like I was actually going to do it.

Sally grinned softly. "For singing parts in musicals, we require those trying out to perform two songs. One from the show itself, the other can be anything of the auditionee's choosing. I entered my number into your phone as well in case you had any further questions, so just shoot me a message and I can text back the selection from Wicked that you'll have to pick from. For that, you just have to bring your voice. For your personal preference song however, you'll need to be ready with some sheet music for our pianist to play from."

Seemed simple enough.

…not that I was going to do it, of course. Certainly not. Nope.

"Sally, you almost forgot the most important part," Jack tsked teasingly before ducking his head down to my level and striking up a finger. "You must also be prepared… to have fun!" he declared happily, throwing up a pair of jazz hands.

A crease formed between my eyebrows. "I'll… try to remember that. Thanks." I felt an upward tug at one corner of my lips despite myself.

I thanked them for their time and we said our goodbyes. Luckily, I had no further run-ins with the local wildlife (aka Vanitas) on my way out. As I trekked my way homeward, I felt a bit of a pleasant electricity buzzing in my chest. I think I may have actually been a smidge excited. Of course, it was only over the idea of going and watching other people audition tomorrow. Of living vicariously through them. I surely wasn't going to try out myself. Who me? No, don't be silly, definitely not. And I certainly wasn't currently dusting off my mental playlist of the soundtrack for Wicked, nor already sorting through a few potential songs I might sing as my free choice. No, absolutely not.

Those were the furthest things from my mind.

The.

Absolute.

Furthest.

Author's Note: Lea-dot-exe has encountered a critical error and has crashed xD Gosh it's simply staggering the amount of mental acrobatics Elsa goes through to just simply NOT GET what has him so tongue-tied and flustered. Being really bad at reading social cues has basically become her super power at this point. Well, that and her super human ability to babble under extreme pressure. Also, more plot creeping back in as Elsa potentially begins to pursue the whole community theater angle! I was just happy I got an excuse to write Jack and Sally into this, they're a couple of my faves! Also happy I got an excuse to have someone spritz Vanitas in his punkass edgelord face with a water bottle haha! Fun Fact: These musical tryouts are based on how musical auditions used to be held at my high school. I'm not sure if any other theaters (professional, community, or otherwise) hold tryouts like that, but from what the internet tells me, every theater is different, especially when it comes to community theater, so I figured sure, why not, let's just go with what I know!

Next chapter, will Elsa be ready in time for tryouts? Will she actually go? Will she actually audition?! Who else might be there to try out as well? Is Lea actually onto something, have we been using forks BACKWARDS this whole time? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

Bliss 7 and 12 please ;-;

Thank you anon, I absolutely adored writing this prompt, but being me I ended up with more angst than I planned to write for such a sweet prompt, but the ending is soft I swear. I hope you like it

Prompt Bliss 7. “Look at you… Goodness, you’re so cute.”

Ryan doesn’t know what they are even doing at this point.  

This is the tenth time this month that he had lingered at the office after work, throwing himself into doing and redoing his editing as people trickled out and the buzz faded away. His neck is straining and his eyes ache, but he catches himself before he rubs them, not wanting to jostle the contacts. The office is not the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, but he would give up his bed and all his jerseys if it meant he could be spared from his mind.  

There is no use thinking about it really, what’s done is done, but he can’t help his reluctance. It’s just an apartment, his rationality says. But why does every empty space hurt to look at, his heart whispers.

There are so many of them now. 

So he had hung back, and Shane had stayed with him, the two of them editing their various projects side by side, a giant bucket of Chicago Popcorn™ Shane’s parents had sent between them.

The problem, as it usually was, is that Shane’s company and some good old fashioned sleep deprivation don’t mix well, and productivity took the fallout, their work ethic gradually sliding off the table until they’re positively undoing efforts that they’ve already put out. 

Yes, maybe Ryan had something to do with Shane’s elbow and back crashing onto his laptop keyboard and deleting nearly two hours of editing, but it’s Shane’s fault he doesn’t save the videos every two minutes like Ryan does, non-compulsively of course. 

So their nights aren’t the most productive, but it’s off-hours so no one can really tell them off. The office is empty, unflipped light switches plunging patches of desks into shadow between the bright spots in mesmerizing patterns. The warehouse desk layout leaves much space for the mind to fill, but Ryan’s worked here for so long that he knows every twist and turn. He’d bet good money that he’d win in a ghost race through this organized mess. 

Ryan’s pretty sure the only person doing actual work tonight has chosen to evacuate from their desk to one of the corners farthest away from the pair of them. He feels a little bad to bother him with the un-moderated volume of their conversations and the not-so-infrequent giggling fits, but right now he’s too relaxed and happy to care. It’s the only time he gets to feel like this anyway. 

The Unsolved title card flashes, pulling his attention back to the screen, a white bar inching through the multicolored blocks of carefully compiled video and audio files at the bottom of the monitor. Ryan’s quite proud of this one, the crew were able to get some stellar shots on-location and there was probably one of the clearest spirit box replies they’ve gotten, no matter how hard the other man tries to discount it. 

“Aww you cut that part out again?’ Shane pouts beside him, headphones perched precariously on his big head.

"You can’t just go and tell ghosts they’re gonna be on Youtube every time.” Ryan swivels his chair to face Shane, a lofty air in his voice as he does his best to look down his nose at the other man, even going so far as pumping his seat up a few inches. Shane’s lip trembles like he’s holding back a laugh. It’s an argument they’ve had before, and Ryan knows how it’s going to go almost down to the line, but it’s always fun, so he plays the game. 

“And why not?" 

"They’re not from this time, they don’t even know what electricity is!”

“So you are admitting the spirit box is wack.” Shane rubs his hands together evilly, smiling so wide he could have been in that truth or dare movie, no special effects needed. “Oh, this is very good.”

“I did not say that,” Ryan protests, nudging Shane’s leg with a foot and feeling intensely satisfied when the boot leaves a dirt mark on the other man’s dark jeans. Jeez, they are literal children sometimes, but Ryan never has this much fun. 

“It’s just, they’re ghosts, and they’re making the effort to reach out to talk to these two idiots, cut them some slack.”

“You’re the only idiot here. I, Shane Madej, am a man of science.” Shane doesn’t even have to level up his seat and he’s still taller than Ryan. It is so, so not fair. 

“This is science!”

“Uh-huh,” Shane says, deadpan. There is movement just out of Ryan’s periphery, and he cranes his head to see the guy leave, wincing internally. He should probably apologize for being loud, but that can totally wait a day. Maybe two.   

“There has been plenty of evidence on ghosts and you know it.”

“From what I’ve seen? You really want to go into that?” There’s a challenge in Shane’s posture, and Ryan feels a rush in his chest that overruns the empty ache there, sees the trap but he jumps anyway.

“Hell yeah I do, we’ve caught some pretty good stuff along the way, Waverly, ‘brown and white’?  The freaking Sallie House?" 

"We both know the whole flashlight test is horseshit, Ryan.” Shane smirks, leaning back in his chair languidly with his hands behind his head, “As to the rest of those, the demons and ghosties gotta work harder than that, cause right now they don’t seem very interesting.”

  “How dare you! They’re more than interesting. They were all people once.”

“Let’s list what they’ve done, hmm? Jostling toothpaste, nudging bouncy balls, whispers so gentle you can’t even–”

“Nope I’m not letting you trivialize the evidence, it was fucking creepy to hear those on location.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a wimp.”

“Fuck you.” Ryan shoots back, but there’s no real feeling behind it. He pulls a serious face to match Shane’s, squaring his shoulders and oh watch how fast he folds now. 

The other man’s joy is infectious, and soon Ryan is joining him, their laughs swallowed up by the high ceilings and far walls. Ryan’s eyes catch on the lights shining down on Shane, tracing golden lines along the edges of his lanky figure against the shadowed monotony of conference rooms. Breathless and curling into themselves, their gazes meet and linger across five feet of space.

They’re just two guys working into the small hours of the night, just another aspect of their life that their ghost hunting career has bled into, it’s all normal. 

Except it isn’t. 

Neither of them needs to be here to work, least of all Shane, and really, Ryan thinks with a twist in his chest, it has just been the two of them spending time in each other’s company. And Ryan does genuinely enjoy it. He loves the ease of their interactions, how they can hound each other mercilessly and bicker, how Shane can poke that special unhinged laugh out of him and make him forget about everything else. 

And how he, in turn, can make the big guy’s eyes all curvy and bright like no one does. 

But there’s no use thinking about things like that. 

There could be, a small voice says, a light shining weak in the churning abyss. Ryan passes a hand over his face and keeps it there, not trusting himself to not let his heart spill right out. 

“Ryan?”

He had thought he found the one with Helen, the person in the world he’d like to spend his life with, but then things had started falling apart, and she had left. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Ryan knows, but he had gotten used to having someone to come home to, someone who knows him for who he is. 

You can have that again, the voice goes on small and determined, and Ryan wishes he could block it out. Isn’t he always good at that on their investigations? It was basically in the fucking job description. 

You just have to let yourself see.

Shane is safe, someone to trust, someone to rely on. No one else would have born with him all the times he lost his mind in those haunted places. No one else would have hummed Mama Mia to him constantly in those first days when Ryan hid the pain so well on camera, knowing the familiar tune would take the tears away, if only for a minute. Just one Shane Madej hailing from the Land of Lincoln, his co-host, his best friend, and the most important constant grounding him while the rest of his world is turned up-side-down. 

“You okay buddy?” There is a sharp tone in Shane’s voice, and Ryan belatedly realizes his eyes are wet. Shane’s face is flushed from laughing, but now he leans forward and there is suddenly so much care in the slight tension of his shoulders that Ryan wants to cry. 

He can’t risk losing this, he doesn’t know what he would do if he manages to fuck up this last good thing in his life. 

“Yeah,” He gives the other man a small smile, turning back to his screen to start up the video again, and he feels Shane relaxing back into his chair reluctantly. 

Soon he’s leaning forward again, attention rapt on every little detail Ryan had painstakingly compiled. 

“Hmm, didn’t you make a face at that point?” Shane taps a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed in concentration as Ryan reaches out to pause the replay, the lines of blue and yellow stark against the black background. 

“Oh, that? I didn’t think it would anyone would be interested to see it.” Ryan’s fingers tap at the keys for a few seconds, pulling up the clip from the front camera and overlaying it on the video. 

"I didn’t know it was gonna scare ya.” Screen-Shane says, tipping his head to the side and schooling his face into an impressive mask of innocence as he batted his eyes at screen-Ryan.

In-real-life Ryan feels warmth coil in his chest at the memory, and he smiles as he watches himself sputter for a bit, finally settling on a determined, You know what you did. He actually huffs out a laugh at his piss poor attempt to look intimidating, when the camera angle in the VO booth put Shane so much clearly taller. 

On the screen, Shane’s looking down at Ryan with a grin, though he at least has the self-awareness to look a little sheepish. Their eyes lock, and with an appropriate pause for dramatic effect, “I do.”

The clip takes another few seconds to end, their raucous laughter sound from his speakers. Then Ryan’s left with the still of both of them looking at the camera, frozen grins bright on their faces, captured in time. 

And Ryan’s caught in fucking limbo again, his free hand flexing in on empty air at the edge of his desk.  

“Good stuff huh?” Shane’s voice is quiet. 

“Yeah.” Breathe, just breathe, how is that so hard? It shouldn’t be this hard. 

“You considering switching the text out for this?” There’s a smile in Shane’s voice, and Ryan clears his throat and drags in a shuddering breath. 

“No it's—I’ll uh, I’ll put it in.” He hears Shane wheeling close on his chair, but he doesn’t turn to look, locking his eyes on the monitor and busying himself with the familiar shifts and adjustments. He just needs a bit of time to clear his head, then he’ll recover the ability to be a half-decent friend again, he’s sure of it. 

Ryan’s got his cursor hovering over the clip, leaning forward to keep an eye on the time markings when Shane loses a soft breath, his voice an awed murmur. 

“God, you’re so cute when you’re focused." 

And Ryan’s world freezes over. 

Around the edges of his vision, he sees realization, surprise, and something like fear flit across the other man’s face. But Ryan doesn’t do much, just holds as still as he can, like he can stamp down the giddy hope in his chest before it even has a chance to rise, so he can convince himself that it’s all just a freakishly detailed fever dream, because Shane can’t have just said that. 

Shane saw him as a friend, nothing more. Ryan does want that to be true, he really should. 

Breathing is becoming such a fucking bother again, he thinks absently. Maybe if he didn’t do it, life would be much easier. 

"Oh-oh god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that, what kind of shitty friend am I—just,” Shane breaks off, dragging both hands through his hair and tugging in frustration. When he finally speaks he sounds broken, voice thick as if he’s holding back tears, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s all too much, there’s a loud rushing in Ryan’s head. He bolts out of his chair, needing the freedom in space to think, to process. His chest tightens when Shane flinches at the sudden movement, eyes wide, fingers white where they’ve wrapped around the arm of his chair in a death grip.

He needs air, Ryan thinks, and his feet start carrying him away, faster and faster. But Shane follows him, and it has always been like this, he supposes. Ryan takes the lead and Shane hops on for the ride, for better or for worse, always a steady presence at his side when he needs him the most. Sometimes even when he doesn’t want to.

Shane’s steps close in and he catches at Ryan’s arm, “Ryan wait, please.”

Ryan blinks hard, but he doesn’t get to wake up this time. Shane’s fingers are burning points of pressure on his mind. 

He opens his mouth to speak but there’s a strange taste, two cool lines trace down his face and his vision is swimming, and oh wouldn’t it just be perfect if he blacked out, poor little Ryan, can’t even take a fucking joke without fainting—

“Oh god, don’t cry Ry, please, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Was it a fucking joke.” Ryan bites out, voice barely louder than a whisper but it still comes out harsher than he means. He can’t look at Shane, so Ryan keeps his eyes down, stares at the mud on Shane’s boots from their last shoot. He needs to know. 

“No,” Hurt, that’s what it is, and there’s far too much of it in Shane’s voice for it to be right. “No it wasn’t.” Shane lets go of Ryan’s hand to curls an arm around himself, and Ryan aches for the burning contact like it’s a physical wound. 

“Oh.” It’s more a punched out puff of air than a word. Oh.

“I-” Shane swallows, eyes shifting then settling back on Ryan, “I was looking at you, and it-it slipped out, I’m sorry.”

The silence isn’t complete, of course it isn’t. The sound of traffic exists at all hours of the day here. But it still envelops Ryan, wrapping around his throat and trying to suffocate the words he’s struggling to form. 

“Don’t be."  

"What?” Shane breathes, hesitant, almost disbelieving, his eyes dart to search Ryan’s face, “you’re not saying—do you—”

“I think I can.” Ryan says, and he tastes truth on his tongue. 

Not now, not even tomorrow, but maybe next week, or the week after that.

“You do?"  

"I do.” He affirms, and Ryan’s throat closes up with something warm when a lopsided grin starts to form on Shane’s face, small and hopeful, a gentle flush creeping onto his cheeks. They’re just standing in the office looking at each other, and Shane’s hand lifts up a little as if to reach out, but he catches himself before it makes it into Ryan’s personal space. 

“You wanna head back home? I’ll pack the popcorn.” Ryan can’t really breathe, so he just nods and offers Shane a watery smile. 

Their fingers brush when Ryan hands Shane a blanket for the couch, the corners of Shane’s eyes are crinkling and Ryan is breathless. He’s been feeling like that a lot tonight, and it seems that life is determined to keep him that way with all the curveballs it’s been chucking at him. 

But this time it’s not a bad feeling. Not at all. 

He fiddles with his sleeve and watches Shane settle down, making his way around his apartment with a familiarity accumulated over years’ worth of movie nights and beers and popcorn. 

It’s still too soon, and he doesn’t think he can do anything about this whole thing he’s got himself into. But he’s got Shane with him, and for once Ryan’s not afraid he’s going to leave. 

And maybe, Ryan thinks. Maybe one day he won’t need to hide from his apartment and its empty spaces. 

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 4

Remus felt the sofa dip as James sat down beside him, the popcorn he was carrying spilling as Peter took a handful. Movie night, a time-honoured tradition for the marauders, had fallen on a Thursday this month, but the inconvenience wouldn’t stop them. James always hosted, so at least they could rely on Mrs Potter to wake them for school in the morning. Sirius flicked through Disney Plus on the TV, sat criss-cross in the most ridiculous onesie James had jokingly bought him one birthday, struggling to pick a film.

 It made him look great, hugging everything delightfully, whilst still having that sense of humour that he adored.

 Can you stop being a gay disaster for 5 minutes?

 Sirius had begun to act normally again after only a few days, refusing to attest to what exactly was bothering him, ignoring people when asked. On the first day he’d laughed along with his friends as he used to, Remus had given Lily a concerned look which was shrugged off timidly.

 “How ‘bout Shtar Warsh? We haven’t washed dem in a while.” Peter suggested through a mouth full of food.

 James huffed, “No, Wormtail, we watched all the bloody films last month, remember?”

 “Well what about Narnia? Magic and shit.” He tried again. Everybody groaned.

 “Ok, ok, I get it,” He defended, hands going up in mock surrender. “What do you suggest then?”

 Remus watched as Sirius thought for a moment, pulling at his hair before switching to the Marvel section, “You can’t go wrong with Avengers, lads.”

 “Sirius, you are literally the only person who likes the Avengers.” James said as he put his head in his hands, snatching the popcorn bowl from Peter and offering it to the room. “Moony, you’re awfully quiet, what do you think?”

 Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius just as he tilted his head and offered his infamous puppy dog eyes, the caramel flecks shining in the light of the TV. Truthfully, he didn’t much like Marvel movies, finding them a bit boring, but how was he supposed to say no to those eyes? “I don’t mind, let Sirius pick.”

 Sirius squealed girlishly before starting the film, getting up from the floor and situating himself right next to Remus, body pressing against his side. He drew in a breath.

 Stay calm. You’ve sat close to him before.

 “Wait who’s that? What’s he doing?” Peter was one of those people who talked the whole way through a movie, asking question that would be answered within a few minutes, and it was annoying to say the least. “Oh fuck! Why’s he doing that?!”

 Sirius laughed seemingly right into Remus’s ear and the sound was infectious. The slight feeling of hot air against his face sent a jolt down his spine; he didn’t dare to move an inch in case he got too close, or in case he got too far away. He couldn’t deny himself the feeling of it, even if it was only temporary.

 As the evening faded to night, sun into the moon, the four of them lay tired, barely processing what was happening on the screen with eyes blinking wearily. Yet Remus was wide awake, all too aware of the soft dundun dundun dundun of Sirius’s heartbeat. It was calm and lethargic, accompanied by the rise and fall of his chest. The screen was busy with action and explosions, and Remus’s brain was loud with spinning thoughts.

 James yawned exaggeratedly. “I don’t know if I can stand anymore of this Padfoot, turn it off.”

 “But this is the best bit!” He pleaded.

 “It was the best bit half an hour ago, hell, it was the best bit 10 minutes ago. Poor Peter’s trying to sleep.” A snore came from the floor almost in agreement.

 Sirius sighed, “please… just let me watch this, I’ll turn it off straight after. Swear down.”

 “Fine, but I’m going up to bed. Turn off the lights when you’re finished, would you? Mum says we’re trying to save money on the electric.”

 “You got it Prongs!”

 The room was eerily silent as the film continued, apart from Sirius’s quiet reaction and Peter’s thundering snores. Remus’s breathing evened out gradually as he settled back into the heat of his friend’s body. He knew he was crossing some sort of boundary but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Staving off a yawn, he braved a look at the other boy, only to meet bleary eyes and a drooping head.

“You don’t actually like Avengers, do you?” He smiled.

 Remus’s breathing picked up again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

 “No, I know, I know… It’s fine. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

 He scoffed, “I wasn’t pretending. Why would I?”

 “You tell me, Moons.”

  ~~

  Remus woke up to a head heavy on his shoulder, still peacefully sleeping, his lips slightly parted and hair falling onto his back. When had Sirius fallen asleep? And when had he gotten right there?

 “Boys, boys, I can’t believe I forgot!” Mrs Potter entered the room briskly. “It’s time to get up, hurry now.”

 The head on his shoulder jerked up, obviously startled as he brought his arm up to cover his eyes from the intensity of the light. “What time is it? Moons?”

 “It’s about 8, Sirius love. Was it a late night?” Mrs Potter asked, tidying the blankets and bowls scattered all over the floor.

 He stretched lethargically. “Not quite.”

 She left the room with a final wake up call to Peter, leaving Remus to deal with a half-asleep Sirius Black practically on his lap. He watched as he brushed his hair out of his face, rubbing at his eyes and pressing into the material of the other’s pyjama t-shirt. The bastard doesn’t even look dishevelled.

 “Morning, Moons, you alright?” He mumbled.

 Remus stuttered, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m great, yeah, I’m… peachy.”

 “Peachy?”

 He didn’t notice the way Sirius’s cheeks flushed and his face fell, nor did he notice the waver in his iron confidence that was built up so high. The boy sobered slightly, finally lifting his head and coming back down to reality.

 “How did you-, um, did you sleep okay?” Remus asked.

 “Absolutely peachy.” Sirius laughed, “How about you?”

 His palms began to sweat as he answered shakily, trying his best to change the subject “Oh, yeah, do you know where I put my, um-, my bag?

 The other boy faltered, gathering his own belongings and spare change of clothes. “I think it’s in the kitchen mate.”

 “Right, thanks, yeah,” Remus said.

 Peter looked up from the floor, appearance in stark contrast to Sirius’s effortless, I woke up like this aura. He felt around for his phone and once found he cursed loudly, “Shit! I forgot to charge it, my mum’ll go mad.”

 Remus wasn’t listening as he stared at the back of a certain someone’s head, wondering if he’d done something wrong. It seemed as if there was an entire section of his brain dedicated to Sirius, whether that be anxious thoughts about his wellbeing and emotions, or pathetic crushing.

 James burst through the door, “Do you need me to call your mum? Is she worried about you?” He cooed. “Okay now, that gesture wasn’t very nice.”

 When Remus turned back to look at Sirius, he had already gone, presumably to the bathroom. James spoke warmly, “What do you want for breakfast? Dad says he’ll make bacon if you fancy it.”

 “Have you got sausages as well? That’d be nice.” Peter had stopped panicking about his phone, perking up at the mention of food.

 Remus truthfully was quite hungry, but suddenly wasn’t in the mood. “I’ll eat at school, thanks though Prongs.”

 “It’s no trouble, he always makes too much anyway.” James reasoned.

 “Seriously, I’m fine.” He said dismissively, giving one last reassuring smile before stalking into the kitchen to sit at the bar, scrolling through his own phone lazily. Mr Potter was hard at work at the stove, the bacon James had spoke of by his side.

 He sought out conversation, “How’s your mum these days? I haven’t spoken to her in a while.”

 “She’s doing well, yeah.” For a moment he let his mind linger on the thought of his mother, pushing herself to her limits just for mere household chores, every adult he knew always asking about her. He tended not to think too much of it, but occasionally it was impossible to ignore. Never did he talk openly about what was going on, he was similar to Sirius that way.

 “Something smells good.” Sirius sauntered into the room, looking even more perfect than before, if that was possible.

 James chuckled, “Unlike you.”

 “Very original.”

 “Again, unlike you.”

  ~~

  Marlene looked away from where she was tracing glitter onto Remus’s eyelids, “Seriously, Re, I don’t know why you were so against this. It looks good!”

 “I wasn’t against it, I am against it. This is stupid.” He huffed.

 Remus was sat in the girls’ bathroom, legs folded on a closed toilet seat, head tilted up to meet a makeup brush. Surrounding him were Lily, Mary, Dorcas and Marlene, all gossiping excitedly about an art project they were doing. After he’d come out to Lily, he’d found it easy and comforting to tell the other girls too (though still not ready to tell the boys), who’d jumped on the excuse to show him love, support and happiness. They were currently working on a project about gender expression, using Remus as a very unenthusiastic model.

 “Jeez, Marls, doesn’t this seem like a bit too much?” He asked.

 Dorcas laughed, “There’s no such thing as too much!”

 “Tell that to the people who are going to be blinded by my fucking-,” He winced as the brush pressed harder against his skin, “be careful with that, -my eyes.”

 Marlene swiped a thumb over the glistening skin, before leaning back to inspect her work. “Hey babe, do you think I should go for red or pink on the lips? I think the red goes cute with the eyes.”

 “Whatever you think.” Dorcas smiled sweetly.

 Remus made a noise in the back of his throat, “As long as it doesn’t take too long, I have to take all of this off before my next lesson.”

“You should keep it on, it’s nice.” Lily suggested, “I think Sirius would think so anyway.”

“Fat chance.”

 He felt his phone buzz in his pocket so he got it out, not without protest from Marlene. The beating of his heart picked up as he saw it was a snapchat from Sirius, his momentary freeze allowing Lily to snatch it right from his hands.

 “Speaking of him, what’s going on?”

 He snatched the phone back. “I haven’t opened it, dumbass.”

“Well then you better open it before I do, dumbass.” Lily teased.

 He wondered for a moment what it could be, considering Sirius must have been well into a lesson. Not that I know his timetable. That would be weird. He tried to reason with himself about all of the possible things it could concern, and how practically none of which aligned with his fantasies and wishes. Reasoning had always gone out the window when it came to his friend.

 Friends. That’s all you are.

 “C’mon Remus, let’s see it.” Mary sang.

 Marlene joined her, “You cannot leave us waiting like this.”

 “He’ll open it when he’s ready, guys.” He heard Dorcas say vaguely.

 He only hesitated for another second, until with a surge of confidence he tapped his phone to open the message. For a moment, he thought I’m overreacting, it’s just a stupid snapchat, but this moment was cut short by a glance at the picture of Sirius from under the desk with the caption ‘meet me in Slughorn’s empty lab in 5. We need to talk’

 Holy. Shit.

 “Um, Marls?” She hummed in recognition. “How fast can you take all of this off my face?”

  ~~

  It was eerily quiet as he cautiously walked into the lab, having never been there outside of lessons. It was also strange to see Sirius perched atop the counter, legs swinging wildly and fingers picking at his nail polish. Remus remembered when he’d first started painting his nails, claiming he was only doing it because it pissed off his mum, but it was to be suspected that he secretly loved it.

 Sirius lifted his head and scanned Remus’s face in confusion. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”

 “Marlene happened.”

 He laughed, “That explains it.”

 The two looked at each other for a moment, searching for the words but not quite finding them. It was awkward, but the comfortable kind. Remus broke the silence shyly, “Did you need to talk to me about something?”

 Sirius sighed, “I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up.”

 “What-, what do you mean? Isn’t that why you wanted me here? No offence, but I wouldn’t just risk detention with Slughorn to just stand here,” He asked, before realising what he said. “Not that I don’t… I wouldn’t… I just wanted to know what’s up.”

 Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck. “Keep talking, please, it makes me less nervous.”

 “What do you have to be nervous about?” Remus said, kicking at his shoes.

 “A lot, apparently.”

 Sirius stilled where he was sitting, hooking his ankles together to stop the violent swinging, running a hand through his hair. Remus’s mind reeled trying to make sense of what was happening, or what he should be doing. Say something, idiot. “Me talking makes you less nervous?” It was more of a statement than a question.

 “I guess it does, yeah.” Sirius replied quietly.

 Remus found a poster on the wall to burn his eyes into, reading the same sentence again and again without really understanding it. Truth be told, he had no idea what was going on, and at this rate he’d never find out.

 He spoke with a care-free façade, “So who’s lesson are you skiving? Wait no, don’t tell me, it’s Binns, isn’t it?”

 “You know me so well.” Sirius said with a hand over his heart. “He doesn’t even notice! It’s a wonder anyone shows up.”

 Remus paused a moment for a thought, “Perhaps it’s just the people who actually care about their grades. Or the people who chose the subject because they enjoy it, not just because James picked it, who only did it because Lily did.”

 “Couldn’t be me.” Sirius giggled. Giggled.

 “Well, for once I can’t be too angry,” Remus mirrored his laugh. “You did save me from the wrath of Marlene’s makeup brush. I don’t think I could have been able to stand any more glitter.”

 “I don’t blame you.” Sirius said amusedly, before adding, “I don’t blame her either. Looks nice.”

 Remus’s breath caught in his throat. “You think?”

 Rather than be embarrassed as he was before, Sirius let out another hearty laugh. “You’re always so self-deprecating, mate. You look good, any bird would be lucky to have you.”

 “I’ll have to take your word for it.” Remus replied happily, any sadness slipping from his shoulders as he took in the compliment. He’d never been good at taking compliments, either out of disbelief and surprise, or his anxiety.

 They’re only saying these things out of pity, he’d think. But he didn’t think that now.

 It subdued for only a few seconds, the two laughing about anything and everything, before Sirius blurted something that made Remus’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I like boys, by the way… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 FuckfuckfuCKFUCKFUCKSHITSHIT

 “What-, you-, I don’t, what?” He spluttered, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

 “Do you really want me to answer that?”

 Remus had to bite back a smile, “No, I absolutely do not. I just… wow.”

 Sirius nodded. “Wow. That sums it up pretty well.”

 “I-, I had no idea, I mean, that came out wrong.” He then realised how awful this sounded, probably making Sirius think he was homophobic or something. He debated it in his mind, he had the perfect opportunity to tell him of his own truth. “Does-, does anyone know? James maybe?”

 Sirius’s squeezed his hands between his thighs. “The only people who know are my so-called parents and Regulus. Long story short, they’re not exactly the most accepting people in the world.”

 Remus let out a sympathetic noise, “I’m so sorry.” You can’t tell him now, it’d take his moment away.

 But maybe I have a chance. A very small one, I’m probably not even his type. But a chance.

 “Can I… Do you… A hug, maybe?”

 Before he could blink Sirius was wrapping his arms around him, pressing a teary face to his shoulder. It was slightly difficult at the angle, and Remus had to stand on his toes to put his own arms on his waist to steady him.

 Sirius breathed, “I left, Re. I told them and stood up and I left.”

 “I’m proud of you, it takes a lot to do that”

 He hadn’t known when tears had started to stream down Sirius’s face. “But Reg, he’ still there. I left him in that fucking house! I could have-“

 “He’s a smart kid, you know that. You had to get out, you can’t put all the fault on your shoulders, Pads.” He was saying anything he thought could cheer him up. “Where did you even go? After you left, you had to have gone somewhere.”

 “Round James’s. Mrs Potter set up an airbed and everything.”

 Remus smiled, relieved that he’d gotten the comfort of the Potter household. “Pads, can I tell you something?”

 “Course, Moons.” He lifted his head from where it had been pressed against Remus, looking him right in the eye.

 “Me too.”

 “What?”

 “I-“ Spit it out. “I like boys too. And girls. Pads… I’m bi.”

 This time he did notice how Sirius’s face flushed as he cleared his throat. “I’m happy for you, mate. Although the glitter might have given it away.”

 “You think?”

  ~~

 One week ago.

 Sirius was running. He didn’t know when it had started raining, but now he was picking up the pace as to not get caught in the heavy downpour. It was cold – dark with an evening breeze and freezing – and he was only wearing a thin, white t-shirt and jeans. His long hair stuck to his forehead unpleasantly, beads of rain and sweat dripping down his entire body.

 ‘Then leave! Get the fuck out of my house!’ Mr Black boomed.

 He hadn’t expected to leave, to tell them he was gay or to stand up for himself. It had been an idea in the back of his mind for a while, but as he was now actually going through with it, he was regretful. It was the name of his brother coming from Mr Black’s mouth with such disrespect had been the final straw.

 He knew exactly where he was running, the only place that had ever felt like home. He flinched as he heard himself bang on the door heavily, his mind swimming elsewhere, and fell into the arms of the woman who opened the door with a startled smile.

 “Sirius love, what’s going on?” She inquired. “Gosh, you’re soaked through, let’s get you to the shower.”

 He nodded glumly and heard his best friend hurry down the stairs, “Padfoot! Are you okay? Who was it? I bet it was his parents. Those bastards, I don’t know why you stayed there for so long. Is Reg okay? Is he here? We’ll take him in too if we have to.”

 “James, stop crowding him. I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready. In the meantime, let’s get you cleaned up.” The last part was directed at Sirius.

 He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Can I stay the night?”

 Mrs Potter’s eyes curled kindly, “You’ll stay as long as you need. Who would I be to send you away in this state?”

 “Sick!” James exclaimed while his mother shushed him. “We’ll have a sleep over, wouldn’t that be cool?”

 Sirius hadn’t smiled all night, but in that moment he did. “Thank you.”

 “C’mon, mate. You can pick some of my clothes.”

 “Not a chance, you dress like a 9-year-old kid.”

 “Do not.”

[5-htagonist]

im not even good at writing its just cathartic because i too bottle my emotions up past level 3 emotional vulnerability

Even though he has done this many times over the past three years, turning the corner to Teru's street causes butterflies in his stomach. He quickened his pace gradually until he’s nearly jogging up the stairs to the top floor. Taking a moment to catch his breath before he gets to Teru’s door, he pulls out his phone and texts Teru stating that he is almost there. Once Shigeo catches his breath, he knocks on Teru’s door and only waits a second. Teru opens the door so quickly it’s as if he was standing there since Shigeo texted him.

ao3 mirror

“Hi Teru,” Shigeo said before pulling Teru in for a hug. Teru holds on for a while, burying his head in Shigeo’s shoulder and breathing in. After a few moments, Shigeo feels Teru physically relax and unclench his hands from the back of Shigeo’s jacket. He rubs Teru’s back gently and pulls him closer.

“Are you okay?” Shigeo asks tenderly.

Teru sighs, long and exasperated.

“N.. Not really, no,” Teru responds after a while of debating whether it’s best to just pretend the feeling isn’t there and enjoy time with Shigeo, or be transparent and let him help.

“Do you want to talk about it? I probably can’t do much but I can listen and hug you more…” Shigeo sheepishly trails off into a murmur at the end.

“I don’t want to talk about it, honestly, but I should. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it more than twice, but it’s getting harder to hold things back and I don’t like feeling… vulnerable. Even though I know it’s you and you wouldn’t hurt me, but even after being close to you for three years I still can’t get myself to speak of something past the surface of my emotions. I’m sorry I haven’t been as clear with you as I should have been,” Teru finishes his preamble, almost watery.

Shigeo takes a moment to think of his response, and Teru has come to find these silences comforting rather than using them to think about what he said wrong like he would have when he first starting befriending Shigeo.

“I know you haven’t been telling me everything. It’s okay. I don’t want to push you to tell me anything if it hurts you. But you are right, I wouldn’t hurt you and anything you tell me will stay with me, if that helps,” Shigeo says, pulling back and looking into Teru’s eyes, the latter of which avoiding contact with the former.

“Thank you,” Teru rests his chin on Shigeo’s shoulder, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since we became so close, and since we became boyfriends, but I couldn’t get over myself. But now I just, like, I can’t stop thinking about how depressed I have been over how I used to be. Or maybe I was depressed before that and that’s why I acted like that. I don’t know. All I know now is that on a lot of days I don’t want to get out of bed. I know I’m not completely awful now, but I’m still very, very fake. I still feel like I’m lying all the damn time, you know? Well. You wouldn’t know, you’re so honest. I just, do you get me?” Teru says, letting go of Shigeo for a moment to relocate to his couch. They resume being close once they’re sitting.

“Yes. I get you. I wish you’d be more honest with your emotions with me, but I’m not angry or anything like that. It’s okay to feel these things, Teru,” Shigeo says giving Teru a sympathetic look.

“I know, thank you. I think that I acted out because I was sad. Of course I would be sad, my parents don’t care enough to either take me with them or actually take care of me. That sucks. I should have dealt with it better. But I was just a kid, right? How was I supposed to know better? I just had to think, but I refused. Maybe I was scared of thinking, because that meant coming to terms with not being perfect. I don’t know. I don’t know anything, really. But I… God, this is so hard to say. You really helped me, more than you’ll ever know. When we really became friends, I was in… very bad shape. In a lot of ways. Plus, I wouldn’t talk to anyone I used to associate with, and they really didn’t like me for that. All I had was myself. To be honest, some days I really did just stay in bed the whole day, save for, like, going to the bathroom, obviously,” Teru finishes with a sad smile.

“I’m so sorry, Teru,” Shigeo looks away at the end of his sentence.

“It’s okay, Shige. You had no way of knowing, and until now it would have taken a lot for me to even want to talk about it. I’m so used to repressing my feelings. I mean, I haven’t like, lied about what I’m feeling. I tell you when I’m sad, but I haven’t told anyone anything like this. The things that are such a core part of me. It’s so hard. I know I’m not who I used to be considering I’ve developed basic human empathy and sympathy, but I still feel… like a bad person. I still think mean things sometimes. I still think about using telekinesis to take the easy way through things that really don’t require it. I still think about… hurting people who bother me. Not anyone important to me or you, well, maybe Reigen sometimes, but not like Tome or Ritsu or Shou or Takenaka or anyone like that. Mostly just strangers. And I think about it and it hurts, because it makes me think I’m no different. But I know I am, but I don’t like thinking about hurting others. I don’t like that I used to hurt others. I still dream about it sometimes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed that when you’ve stayed over, though. I’m not sure if I show signs of nightmaring when I’m asleep-”

“You do. It’s not obvious, but it’s mostly in your aura,”

“Ah. That would make sense. But when I have them, I feel so uneasy the next morning. When this happened after… we first met… I often felt like there wasn’t really a reason to keep going if I had hurt so many people. No one really knew me anyway, except you, because you could and still can read right through me at many points. But I figured you wouldn’t want much to do with me-”

“I was conflicted, to be honest,”

“- I never did… try. I thought about it, but I couldn’t and I blamed it on me being scared. I really was. But I don’t regret being scared now. I haven’t thought about that stuff in a while, even if I’ve been depressed still. Don’t feel pressured though!! I mean, you are part of why I’m here but it’s also because I still want to do things and because of my real friends,”

“Oh. Thank you,” Shigeo mentally sighs in relief, because he doesn’t think he could handle being relied on for keeping a life afloat.

“I think that’s it. I kind of want to sink into a hole and die. Not literally, of course, but jeez. I don’t know if that was therapeutic or completely draining,” Teru says, flopping into Shigeo’s lap and staring up at the ceiling.

“You don’t know how much I appreciate you finally telling me this,” Shigeo rests a hand in Teru’s hair, “It means a lot. You mean a lot to me,” Shigeo pauses, lightly blushing and smiling. “I love you.”

Teru’s face lights up with a small smile. “I love you too,” he says, “Thank you for listening to me and putting up with all of this.”

Shigeo’s eyes widen and his voice gains a certain caring intensity.

“I never put up with you, Teru! That implies that I’m not here for you voluntarily. I am, though. Nothing I’ve done for you has been against my will, and that will always be the case unless something really bad happens but even then I’m pretty sure I’d probably do anything for you,” Shigeo’s face flushes red.

Teru grabs Shigeo’s hand and squeezes. Shigeo thinks about how much he loves Teru. In a lot of ways, Teru has helped Shigeo too. Shigeo bends his head to try to kiss Teru, but he is too high up on Shigeo’s lap and he misses and ends up suffocating Teru in his chest. Shigeo sits up, embarrassed, and Teru laughs at him.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, Shige, but you’re just very cute,” Teru laughs, sitting up properly and holding Shigeo’s face and pulling him in for a non-chest-suffocating kiss.