#I am sending my condolences America oh my god…
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absolutepokemontrash · 2 months ago
Note
You're my favorite Canadian American government comedian, so I hope you know that America's Secretary of Defense is a fox news host and the co-leader of the Department of Government Efficiency is Elon Musk
Ex fucking scuse me
America is a reality TV show and you all are the unwilling little contestants because what do you MEAN America’s secretary of defence is a FOX NEWS HOST???
Fact checking fact checking fact checking fact che-
…oh my god
Also why is Elon the secretary of efficiency? He couldn’t even run his lil Trump interview on Twitter without it lagging and dying, this man is quite literally the opposite of efficient, he is deficient in every vitamin including common sense.
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alterrune · 2 months ago
Text
A MESSAGE FROM IRL!ALTERRUNE
tw: the 2024 election, politics, homophobia
Do I have to fucking do this...?
Yes, Kyle. I know you don't want to talk about this, but we need you to say something about your sudden absense from the story.
(Kyle's been in his room ever since 'the event' happened. He's been facedown on his bed ever since and is being incredibly rude and vulgar, even to Harmony and Synth. I've been trying to convince him to say something about this for a long time, and he finally let me do it after I intercepted an order from the cafeteria for him and said he'd have to leave his room for food until he did what I wanted. Believe it or not, he actually SUPPORTED the-President-that-must-not-be-named back in 2016, which he now considers as one of his biggest regrets. So seeing him back in power...yeah, his past came back to haunt him, and it's haunting him HARD.)
Let's just get this fucking over with.
Are you going to lift your head up, or...?
No. I'm fucking fine. Let's get this shit done.
(He's also been swearing like a sailor, and if you could hear his voice right now, it'd sound like he was totally and utterly exhausted. Which, to be frank, he is. He shot off numerous rounds into the walls of his room [which he said he'd pay the repair costs in full for], and told me he had to empty every single round of ammunition he had on him into the furniture and walls of his room so he didn't shoot a person. Of course he's exhausted.)
"okay, we're rolling."
Hey everyone. It's IRL!Alterrune here. And I'm fucking off for a bit.
To every fucking one of you in the USA right now who actually used their fucking brains during the elections: You have my sincerest condolences.
I supported that motherfucker, and to this goddamn day, I still consider that my biggest fucking regret ever.
"You're Canadian, why should you care?" Because thanks to the dumbass people who fucking supported that jerk-off, EVERYONE loses. The USA is incredibly powerful, so yeah, everyone on Earth, INCLUDING THEIR NEXT-DOOR-NEIGHBOR CANADA, fucking loses.
I am fucking retracting myself from the story for a bit. I don't know when I'll be back. But until he either gets impeached or fucking assassinated, I'm going to stay like this. And I sincerely hope it's the latter. I hope someone fucking blows his motherfucking brains out all over the goddamn floor and---
OOOOKAY, Kyle, that's enough of that! Let's move on, please!
(Kyle gives us a sneer. Excuse me, Kyle, but I'm not the one insinuating ASSASSINATION OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA here! I'm trying to stop you before you get us all in trouble!)
Regardless, as I was fucking saying, I'll be gone from the story for I don't even fucking know how long. I'll be back, but until then, I hope HE goes down before shit hits the fan.
And by the way, Vi. Believe me when I say this: there is a fucking LINE-UP for people trying to assassinate him. I'm MOST CERTAINLY NOT one of them because I'm not fucking looking to add "terrorist" to my resume, but there are others out there who can and WILL try to get a hit on him, and I'll be overjoyed when they finally kill him and fucking finally send him straight to Hell.
Vi? We should probably cut the feed before he says anything else that'll get us in HUGE trouble.
"HE'S ALREADY SAID ENOUGH. CUT THE FEED, ALREADY."
WAIT. There's one more thing I want to say.
(Kyle suddenly forces his head up...and...oh god. He hasn't been taking his sleeping pills for his insomnia, his face clearly shows that he hasn't gotten any sleep. He looks AWFUL. However, his angry expression suddenly changes into a somber one.)
(ahem)
To anyone who's in the LGBTQIA+ community:
Don't give up. Fight. Fight like you've never fucking fought before. He says you don't exist? Fuck him. You do exist. Don't let him drive you to suicide, that's exactly what he wants you to do. I may be straight, but I'm not going to sit back and let him ruin all of you. I don't care what the hell he says or does, BREAK THE LAW if you have to. Love is love, and fuck me if I'm letting that BASTARD try and ruin that.
(We all suddenly look in shock. Kyle, completely unprompted, just straight-up gave a sincere and heartfelt speech, and didn't add any unneccesary pander to it. ON ALMOST NO SLEEP.)
(While we're all picking our jaws up off the ground, Kyle gets back onto his bed, this time lying on his back with a pillow over his face.)
Okay. I'm done. Cut the fucking feed now.
(Harmony stops the feed on Kyle's command. Holy shit, what just happened?)
Well, that...could've gone better.
Yeah, but...that speech at the end. Kyle just suddenly did a 180 degree spin on that entire thing.
What the hell even happened there?
Yeah, Kyle, what was with that sudden shift?
I said exactly what had to be said. That the LGBTQIA+ community shouldn't give up just because the-President-that-must-not-be-named said so. If the world wants to fucking explode itself, then by god, I'm making sure I'm staying on the chunk of earth that has the right people on it. I had a PRIDE MONTH EVENT for AtO, so believe me when I say that I do not (and never will) support the actions he is taking. I will NOT let him fuck up the people in that community no matter what. I will defend them with my life if I have to.
Wow. I...uh...never expected YOU to be this defensive about this.
Who else will be?
Fair enough.
Alright, everyone, let's leave Kyle alone for a bit. I think he needs to take his insomnia pills.
Oh shit...I completely forgot to take them. Yeah, I think some rest would be nice.
(I escort everyone out of the room, as Kyle takes his sleeping pills and conks out almost immediately.)
Thanks, Kyle. Glad to know that even in times of peril, you still know who the good guys are, and you rush to defend them.
(I close the door to Kyle's room, leaving him to his nap. Sweet dreams, Kyle, hope you come back soon.)
STATUS OF IRL!ALTERRUNE: OFFLINE
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darthkvznblogs · 3 years ago
Text
From His Vantage Upon the Moon #1
Thor, Doctor Strange, and the Olympians
(MCU x Percy Jackson and the Olympians x Supergiant Games' Hades)
It's rather bad form for a visiting god not to check in with the local deities; Thor's already missed two visits, so he really oughta visit Mount Olympus - though in his defense, being cast out by Odin really shouldn't count. Fortunately, Doctor Strange is willing to play mediator between the typically fickle pantheons.
(From His Vantage upon the Moon is a collection of one-shot stories set in the Kryptonverse, an MCU based crossover universe including over 16 franchises so far. You can find the original work here, but I'll also be posting each short story here on Tumblr, too! If you like what I do, and would like to support me, you can find me on Ko-fi!)
“Are you entirely certain you wish to accompany me, Sorcerer?” –Thor asks, raising an eyebrow as they stand just outside the Empire State Building. Despite the fact that they’re in street clothes, Thor’s outrageously chiseled physique keeps drawing quite a few lascivious gazes, much to Stephen’s chagrin.
“Were it truly up to me, I’d be happy to let you make a fool of yourself.” –he drawls. “My duties, however, require me to mediate your reunion.”
Thor hums. “I don’t recall requiring a mediator during my last visit.” –he grouses. “The Lords of Olympus were quite amenable to our brief presence on Midgard back then.”
“That was then, and this is now. Earth has changed quite a bit in your absence.” –Strange argues. “The Olympians and their demigod children, in particular, have suffered through quite a bit of turmoil in the past few decades – particularly so in the last five years. Compounded with the thinning of the Mist, they’re bound to be wary of anyone outside their immediate circle of trust. Even if you were a friend.”
“Ah. I see.” –Thor mutters. “Strange, is it not? Their own troubles, Loki’s betrayal and the bandit rampage throughout the Nine Realms...we’ve had centuries of peace, and now this. So much has happened in so little time.”
Strange sighs. “I’m afraid this could just be the beginning. But this isn’t the time for that.” –he says. “Let’s hurry along. You have an invasion to repel.”
The god and the sorcerer walk into the building. A security guard stands beside the elevator – less a person and more a magical security measure meant to dissuade mortals (and even some demigods) from entering the gods’ abode. The guard recognizes Strange, though, and merely waves him into the elevator – though not before shooting Thor a vaguely hostile look.
“Odd custom, this.” –Thor notes, as Strange punches in their destination – floor 600. “Moving their home around so often – seems rather a hassle. What’s wrong with the original Mount Olympus?”
“The Olympians like to chase the most powerful nations around, eager for worship as they are. Right now, America’s at the top of the food chain.” –Strange retorts. “Though I hear they’re considering moving back to Greece as part of their big PR strategy. This part of the world is getting rather crowded, rather fast – and Greece could certainlyuse the tourism it’d bring, once they reveal themselves to the world.”
“I remember their strange worship-sustenance, yes.” –Thor recalls as he raises an eyebrow. “Have the mortals truly forgotten us?”
Strange shakes his head. “It’s not like that. Your kind may have become myths, but we still retell them in many forms. That being said, very few people believe in the gods – and I’m not entirely certain that they think of you as you truly are. You and your kin, in particular, have drawn some rather nastyfollowers in the past century or so.”
Thor winces. “Jane mentioned as much, during my brief stay. Something about ‘perfect Arian men’.” –he mutters, disheartened. “Hatred and fear twist the minds of gods and mortals alike. Such it has been as long as I’ve lived.”
“Well, that’s what we’re here for. It’s up to us to set the record straight.” –Stephen says.
Thor nods as the elevator dings, opening to the golden gates and pristine marble of Olympus. “Aye, that we are.”
The duo make their way forth, magically changing into their mystical regalia. Lesser gods and nature spirits look on in surprise and curiosity as Thor cheerfully greets them, giggling nymphs and naiads huddling into gossiping circles. The throne room sits atop a small cliff, like the Parthenon in Athens, overlooking the entire realm and the hazy mortal world, barely visible below.
When they enter, Strange can’t help but be surprised; it’s been maybe a month since he was last on Olympus, and yet he can barely recognize the figures sat on each of the thirteen thrones, each of them at least thirty feet tall – the only exception being the hooded figure of Hestia, placidly sat within the flames of the hearth in the middle of the room.
“Venerable Lords and Ladies of Olympus.” –Stephen half bows. “The Mighty Thor, Firstborn of Odin, God of Thunder, Strength, and Fertility, would request an audience of you.”
The god at the head of the Pantheon leans forward. King Zeus looks very different – his skin is a few shades darker than Strange remembers, closer to the olive tones of the Greek, and his more or less sensible black hair and beard have dramatically changed to become cloud-like in appearance, billowing in the ever-present wind of the divine mountaintop. Gone, too, is his perfectly tailored suit – he is clad in a golden toga, accented in white, and a plethora of rings adorn his hands, one of which casually holds the Master Bolt. A crown of stylized lightning sits atop his head. “Master Sorcerer.” –he greets, his voice booming like distant thunder. “And the Lord Thor. Welcome to Olympus.”
“Do forgive the lack of appropriate fanfare in your reception.” –Queen Hera says, beside him, snow-white robes adorned with a golden belt and peacock feathers, sprouting like a corona behind her head. “Dragging our family together for such an impromptu visit proved a more difficult endeavor than we anticipated.”
The thirteenth god scoffs, at Zeus’ left. Lord Hades crosses his arms, ashen-skinned, bushy-bearded, and much more muscular than Strange remembers him – perhaps the most visually different of them all. A crown of burning laurels, matching his flaming feet, compliments his blood-colored chiton, and precious stones of all kinds adorn his hands and arms. “Then perhaps you should have done with the few of you who were already present, Sister Hera. Blood and Darkness, but this is a waste of my time.” –he curses, leering at their guests with black and red eyes. “Curse the day your spawn so nobly decided to include me in these affairs, Poseidon.”
Poseidon, at least, Stephen recognizes. Physically, Percy’s father looks the same as before, for some reason – even though his clothes have also regressed to what must’ve been his ancient looks. He smirks at his older brother. “We won’t keep you from your lovely family for long, Brother.” –he says, trying to placate the wrathful Lord of the Underworld. “But this is important.”
“Loathe as I am to agree with Lord Poseidon, rekindling our bonds with King Odin and his kin upon Asgard is paramount among our short-term priorities, Lord Hades.” –Athena grudgingly admits. Hades scoffs, sulking back into his throne. The virgin Goddess of Wisdom and War turns to Thor. “And I sense Lord Thor is eager to make amends for his unannounced visit and battle, earlier this year.”
Thor grins. “Indeed, Lady Athena. Though the mortals bid us worship once, Asgard recognizes Olympus’ sovereignty upon Midgard. King Odin sends his regards – and his firstborn, to aid in the protection of your world in whatever way you deem necessary.” –he says.
Zeus and Hades share a knowing look that has Strange wincing internally – they must know something about Thor that the Asgardian himself doesn’t. “There is no transgression to apologize for. And you’re allowed free transit in our domains, fellow Thunderer.” –Zeus declares, amiably enough. “Though grateful for the All-Father’s offer, we do not hold you to our service. You’ve decided to shoulder enoughresponsibilities to humanity already.”
“Your brother, I assume he is no longer a threat?” –Athena asks, narrowing her stormy grey eyes.
Thor’s smile falters. “No, he isn’t. I come fresh off his sentencing – he will live out his many, many days in our dungeons. This, I feel, does require an apology.”
“Family is a difficult matter at the best of times, Thor.” –Lady Demeter says, glaring coldly at the King of Olympus. “You have our condolences for Loki’s turn to madness.”
“Thank you, Lady Demeter.” –Thor bows. Stephen worries, despite himself, at the hint of pain in his voice.
“Madness or not, I envied your ability to challenge it alongside the mortal champions, unbound by our ancient laws as you are. Will you go join them now, in the bloodshed about to unfurl?” –Ares wonders, blood-red irises keen to see the Asgardian in action.
Thor nods curtly, his jaw set. “Indeed, Lord Ares. I do not mean to cut our meeting short, but I must aid my brothers and sisters in battle.”
“Oh, how boring.” –Aphrodite laments. Hers is the most eye-turning makeover of all – if only because she’s fully nude, pink-skinned as the day she rose from Ouranos’...remains. Only her flowing, rosy Godiva hair allows her any modesty – and even then, it’s tremendously inconsistent. Intentionally, Strange must assume. “It’s all doing battle with you warrior types. Here I thought you’d come back to see that pretty little mortal you fancied.”
Thor clears his throat. “That, uh...that is a bonus, yes.” –he admits. “But protecting the world takes priority.”
Zeus nods, approvingly – a little bit hypocritically, Strange feels, considering how hands-off the Olympians can be. “So it does, Odinson. Go with our blessing – and do join us for a spot of Nectar and Ambrosia soon. We have a few thousand years of history to catch up on, after all.”
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usuilucell-blog · 5 years ago
Conversation
Russia: *staring at his father's corpse*
Russia:
Russia: *pisses on it*
Belarus: Um...Russia? What are you doing next to da-
Russia: *turns around and his urine sprays all over belarus*
Belarus: RUSSIA!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!! YOU STUPID FUCKER!!!!
Russia: *continues to piss on Belarus for an unusual amount of time*
~Now, around 57 hours have passed and Russia is still pissing. Belarus ran away from him while crying and he is still in the same spot as before. The entire land around him stinks of his piss and his father's decomposing process has altered due to so much of his urination covering him. It even filled some of his exposed entrails of his golden juice.
*NEWS FLASH*
News guy: Good afternoon, residents of Inglewood California. It's a cool, partly-clouded 78-degree weather today out here in the land of the Golden Gate Bridge, ignoring the fact that we are approximately 6 hours and 50 minutes away from it. Our first report today, our beloved physical representation of the country Russia has been having a little bit of an accident in the middle of the Novodevichy cemetery...for 57 hours. Police, city officials, and thousands of people from the city of Moscow have surrounded the area and have been shouting and warning Russia to stop urinating in that spot, but with no avail. Officials say that they cannot go anywhere near 30 feet within the circumference of Russia, or else they would die from the toxic fumes of his piss that are dangerous to us regular humans. Unfortunately, no tasing devices are able to reach far enough to tase him. This tragedy will go down as the "2 days and counting accident of Russia". Other Countryhumans with permission from each government have been asked to share their opinions on this event. We will now hear from them.
United States of America: My heart goes out to all who have been affected by this absolutely horrendous tragedy. Russia, I know you can't physically hear this, but please. Please believe that...I love you.
Mexico: May god be with Russia.
Ukraine: It's as if I were getting stabbed 3 centimeters below the abdomen. I can't express how much sorrow this brings to my heart, knowing my brother is there just...pissing...on my dead father. Oh god, please help Russia!
Georgia (country): My neighbor who I've known for countless centuries has been through many rough times, but I can confirm in my opinion that this is the worst him and everyone who cares about him have suffered. I am in utter melancholy, and I cannot fathom how others that are closer to Russia feel, especially his people.
Azerbaijan: im am sad 😭😭😭 adn angeryn 😡😡😡😡 😡v i cant tb belive thbis hapening. Want to watch Free HD movies streaming in 2019 for FREE?????? Click link provided over here free lion king movie 2019 free online HD movies streaming free Netflix stream ------>>> http://tinytuba.com/
Armenia: 397,674,928,004 (Duba) i want lightning mcqueens brown redneck truck buddy whatever his name is to top me in the bed and tell me what to do and fuck me in the ass do you guys think budgies in Australia would think im sexy please say yes right now i hate the color navy blue fucking disgusting
Belarus: HE PISSED ON ME TOO!!!!!
random 5 year old being interviewed somewhere in Apia: I want russia to be okay!!!!!
!United Kingdom, France, Spain, Portugal, Sweden, Finland, Ireland, Poland, Kazakhstan, Japan, China, and India asked to not share their thoughts!
News guy: And thank you to everyone who shared their opinions on this horrific event. I as well am sending my condolences to Russia and everybody affected by this tragedy. Now in other news, is Japan being affected by the Blue Whale Suicide Game? Tune in to see what happens, right after these messages.
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wildroseofarran · 6 years ago
Text
Three Stories || Lawrina, RoJ, Quintane, & Luke
MJ: MJ placed his head in Rohan's lap. His long, exaggerated yawn said more than a whine possibly could.
Rohan: Hands immediately went to MJ's hair. "My, my, my, what did the gods place on my lap this day?" he asked with a grin. "A tired vampire?"
MJ: "I'm bored. Teach me a new spell, beautiful witch."
Rohan: "Ah, a bored vampire! What would you like to learn? Something useful or something fun?"
MJ: "Teach me...how to turn water into wine," he grinned.
Rohan: Rohan chuckled. "Red or white?"
MJ: "What's your favorite?"
Rohan: "White."
MJ: "What kinda white? That uh...chardonnay?"
Rohan: "I do enjoy chardonnay, but I prefer pinot grigio. It's smoother."
MJ: "I don't really know any of that. So, let's try em all."
Rohan: "In that case, we're going to the nearest vineyard. Going to need to pick up some grapes."
MJ: "What. You're supposed t'be the vineyard!" he laughed.
Rohan: "I'm not as good at poofing up things as Xavier is!"
MJ: "I got a trick for ya. I gotta practice on someone anyway."
Rohan: "Oh?" Rohan ducked his head to kiss his vampire. "What trick?"
MJ: "Yeah, it-" MJ smiled into the kiss, seemed dazed for a heartbeat. "Uh, yeah. Do we have wine any - of course we have wine."
Time to get up.
"C'mon."
Rohan: "We're lousy with wine. We just can't steal Christine's, she'll hang us by our thumbs in the garden."
One more kiss and he would let MJ get up.
MJ: "Xavier has a shit ton. I know he does!"
Rohan: "And you're right. He has the most ridiculously huge wine cellar in North America."
MJ: "Well let's go down there n'steal some."
Rohan: "Borrow, puiule, borrow." He took MJ's hand and led him down to the basement.
MJ: "Yeah, sure. That word." His hand was given attention during their descent. Each pad of his fingers given their own little kiss.
Rohan: Rohan smiled at all the affection, taking the first opportunity to pull MJ into another kiss.
"Any particular kind of wine you want to borrow?"
MJ: "Nah. I don't care. Hey, c'mere." Those lips required more of his attention.
Rohan: He was only too happy to oblige, wrapping his arms around MJ's waist to keep him close. "You come here," he whispered against his vampire's lips, wine temporarily forgotten as he let himself get lost in this beautiful man.
MJ: Arms were made comfortable around Ronan's neck. The wine also forgotten by the man sighing into their kiss.
"You're so beautiful," he purred.
Rohan: Rohan hummed in response, kisses migrating to MJ's neck. "I'm no match for you, puiule."
MJ: "Don't be ridiculous." Oh, his neck. He was still sensitive enough to shiver, massaging the back of his neck.
Rohan: He smiled against his vampire's skin, nipping and kissing and nuzzling more, hoping to elicit more shivers. Maybe even one of those soft moans he loved so much.
MJ: Moans which were given freely. Both hands grasped softly at his hair, tugging and combing as a means to keep himself busy.
Rohan: There it is, Rohan thought to himself. He loved those sounds. Those gorgeous, sweet little sounds.
"Beautiful," he murmured, tugging MJ's shirt aside to feast on that lovely spot where MJ's neck met his shoulder. "I have half a mind to take you back to the bedroom."
MJ: "What if I take you in my mouth right here and now?" One hand to the back of his neck, the other reached to cup him. "Lemme have this."
Rohan: Rohan's answering chuckle tapered a soft, barely-there growl at the touch. "Is that what my vampire wants?" he asked, pressing into MJ's hand. "Because there's a very comfortable looking chair right over there we could make use of."
MJ: The growl would have caught his breath in his chest had he been able. What an unexpected sound from the witch. He felt compelled to fall to his knees, but he was right; there was a chair better suited for their activities. Rohan would be carried to it.
"What now, sir?"
Rohan: It was rare, but every time MJ called him 'sir', a special kind of warmth pooled in Rohan's belly. It was almost enough to make him growl again. Almost.
He kissed MJ again as he was taken to the chair, settling in comfortably and taking that beautiful face in his hands, holding him in place for more kisses. "Now, my vampire can take what he wants," he whispered.
MJ: "I gotta undress ya." He kissed him again. "Ya gonna let me, sir?" It hadn't taken long to figure out what that word did to the witch. He used it at every appropriate opportunity for their mutual pleasure. Never around company, of course. It was their own private fetish.
Rohan: This time he couldn't quite manage to keep in the growl, quiet as it was. It, too, would be something kept private between them, something they only indulged when they were in their little bubble.
"Of course I am, puiule." Another kiss, two. "Go as quickly or as slowly as you want."
MJ: "Tell me why ya call me that." Tell me while I undo your belt, your button and zipper. Let me hear your voice while I expose you to the cellar air, kiss and swallow you whole.
Rohan: "It's a Romanian term of endearment." Though Rohan's voice was soft and laced with affection as he watched MJ, his eyes were a different story. They were no less affectionate, no less soft, but they were alight with lust and anticipation. At least until the feeling of MJ's mouth around him closed them.
"It means baby, but simply calling you baby just wouldn't feel the same." His voice was breathier now. "Puiule holds more meaning." Puiule felt closer to his heart.
MJ: Puiule. He'd have to memorize other words for Rohan as a gift. Just thoughts while he sucked down and tickled scrotum. He worshipped this man as he believed he deserved. It was all just spontaneous lust...but something more. He knew Rohan loved him. He knew Victoria would never allow their romance to flourish.
His movements began to slow.
"D'ya wanna fuck me?"
Rohan: MJ's ministrations were rewarded with soft moans and jerky little movements of Rohan's hips as he slipped deeper and deeper into his blissful state. His vampire felt so good around him, so perfect. Rohan could spend hours with him like this and be completely content.
He was thinking about saying as much when he felt something...shift. It was subtle, but it was there.
He opened his eyes, instinctively caressing MJ's cheek with his thumb. "Only if it's what you want as well."
MJ: "I just want ya t'take me."
Rohan: Rohan sat up, bringing MJ in for a lingering kiss. "Let's go back up to the bedroom."
MJ: "Kay. One sec." He was still going to grab one of Rohan's favorites before they returned where they had began.
Rohan: He smiled as MJ grabbed the wine. Even in the heat of the moment, his vampire still thought of him.
Once he'd gotten himself at least halfway decent, he took MJ's hand and led him back up to the room and into their private little bubble, pulling MJ back into his arms the first chance he got.
………………………………………………………..
Q: Q Traxler turned once again to check on the man behind him. His blazer was undone and draped over Luke Graham's shoulders.
"You alright?"
Luke: Luke smiled, Q's gesture seeming to pull him out of his reverie. His mind felt like it was a thousand miles away.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just distracted."
Q: "We don't have to do this tonight if you don't want, babe."
Luke: "No, I do. I need a distraction from my distractions. They're all work related."
Q: "Which work? You're running yourself thin, you know. You sure you want a house party?"
Luke: "Law firm. Been mentally calculating how much of Ryder's workload I'm going to get once he goes on his honeymoon in a couple months." He stopped long enough to tug Q down for a kiss. "I'm sure. It's exactly what I need."
Q: Down he went, plenty content to give as many kisses as Luke required. "Then I'll give you what you need and then some when we get home," he winked. "Just keep Stacey at arm's length. She's a chatty Kathy."
Luke: That earned Q another smile, and another kiss. "Looking forward to it like you wouldn't believe."
"Pfft, don't have to tell me twice. Her two favorite questions to ask me are 'are you rich yet?' and 'are you sure you're gay?'."
Q: "She has an agenda against anything not straight. Hides it behind a sweet smile and "I swear I don't care" attitude."
Luke: "Makes her the worst kind of person. You know she's scared of Stella?" he added with a grin.
Q: "Is she really?" he laughed. "And you don't mind meeting my friend Tane?"
Luke: Luke nodded. "Yep. Stella can and has beaten people up in the past for giving me and Pete shit for liking men. It's a treat to watch."
"No, not at all. June said he's really tall and nice."
Q: "And handsome, and gay, and mature, and can hold his own, and his hugs are the best you'll ever get. Next to mine."
Luke: "He's gay and he has to work near Stacey? I should send the poor guy a condolence card." He chuckled. "They'd have to be pretty amazing to beat yours. You're my sexy teddy bear, remember?"
Q: That word won't belong to me after you meet him. I promise."
Luke: Another stop, another kiss. "We'll see about that, sugar."
……………………………………………………………………………………….
Lawrence: Lawrence Atlas checked his watch for the third time in less than five minutes. He paced towards the tea kettle and back to his account book on the dining table. A page flipped. Back to the kettle. Watch, book, kettle, repeat.
"How long is it until we see the results?" He already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it again.
Gina: Lawrence's pacing was making her nervous, but she knew she'd be even more nervous if she got up to pace with him. Better to just stay put and jiggle her leg.
"Just a couple minutes," said Gina. "Are you sure you don't want tea? You keep looking at the kettle."
Lawrence: "I do but I don't know if I want - I prefer coffee. Can you even drink that if you're - probably not. Right?"
Gina: Yes, good, something to do with her hands. "I'll make you coffee." She was already getting up before she'd finished the sentence.
"I can, just very small amounts." 200 milligrams if she remembered correctly. "So herbal tea for me. Chamomile I think."
Lawrence: "Gina." He took her hands and squeezed them. "Is this what you want? If the test comes out positive, are you ready for that?"
Gina: She took a deep breath. She'd been asking herself that very question since she realized she'd missed her period and there were two facts she knew for certain.
"I'm terrified, but...yes." Her voice softened to a whisper. "I think I am. What about you?"
Lawrence: "I...If you - if you're willing to be with me, despite what I am and how I - I came to be... Of course I'm ready."
Gina: Gina brought a hand to his cheek. "Who you are is Lawrence. My Lawrence, who I love. That's what matters to me. I couldn't even imagine being here right now or doing this without you."
Lawrence: "So..." After nearly an hour without, his smile returned. "We're gonna have a baby? Wait - Are we having a baby?" he laughed. "Check the stick-thing."
Gina: Seeing Lawrence smile made Gina relax enough to smile back. Hearing him say that just...
"Oh, lordy. Let's check the pee stick." She walked back over to the table and picked it up, taking a deep breath before looking down at the little screen.
".....Lawrence...."
Lawrence: Well, that was that. "What shall we name him or her? What if we have twins or triplets? Gotta think of multiple names. Colors for the -" the room. "What are...we gonna do with...the room?"
Gina: His questions just washed over her for a moment. She stared at the little window, vision going blurry with tears as she read the word 'pregnant' over and over. It was right there, written in plain English.
"It's going to be our baby's room," she whispered, finally looking up. Her eyes were swimming and her smile was as radiant as the sun. "Our baby. We're having a baby. Lawrence, we're having a baby!"
Lawrence: The more she said it, the brighter Lawrence's expression became. Each equaled a hundred kisses. His heart had flown to the heavens.
"A baby!" he laughed. "Oh my god!" His sweet fiancée was lifted into his arms, brought into his lap as he sat. "Can I do that? Will that - I should get into the habit of not picking you up."
Gina: Although she was now openly weeping, Gina's laugh as she was picked up was pure joy. She hugged her arms tight around Lawrence's neck, still reading the word on the test over and over just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. This was real. They were going to have a baby.
"We'll be okay on it for a while," she sniffled, smiling wide as she kissed him. "When I start showing it might not be a good idea but for now..." She took one of his hands and placed it on her abdomen, holding it there as she twined their fingers. Their baby was in there, probably no bigger than a grain of rice.
Lawrence: "That's ours," he whispered, fascinated by what he couldn't see and yet to feel. "Is that...alright to say and feel right now? I know this is your ordeal and...I don't want to overstep by - I don't know what I'm trying to say."
Gina: She nodded immediately, not feeling or showing an ounce of hesitation. "Ours. Always ours, never just mine, okay? Always ours. Our ordeal, our weird cravings, our pregnancy, our baby grain of rice."
Lawrence: "You already have names in mind, don't you? We need to - I'd like for us to be married before the baby is born. Do you want the baby in the photo? You showing, I mean."
Gina: "A few might've popped into my head," she chuckled, resting her forehead against his.
"I'd like that, too." She'd imagined it more times than she could even count. "And I'd love for the baby to be in the photo. It could be something simple and lovely. Down at the beach maybe, or at the inn."
Lawrence: "So, a beach wedding six months from now, and we also reveal the sex at the reception?" he grinned.
Gina: "To everyone else. I want us to know as soon as possible." She grinned back. "Our little secret."
Lawrence: "Really? You don't want it to be a surprise until then?"
Gina: Gina shook her head. "I want to know right away. Too impatient to wait."
Lawrence: "Then we gotta think of names quick!" he laughed.
Gina: "What are you thinking? Tell me the first names that pop into your head."
Lawrence: "I like...the name Brogan...Brenna...Loreto. I've always liked the name Juna." However long was "always". "What about you?"
Gina: "Brenna," she repeated softly. "I like that. It's very sweet. I've always liked Camilla. Kelly, for a boy. Noelle. Sam."
Lawrence: "Kelly for a boy? That's one of those names like Ashley or Lindsay?"
Gina: "Yep," she said with a nod. "My dad's brother's name is Kelly. He's my favorite uncle."
Lawrence: "Kelly Lawson? Has a nice ring to it, like a lawyer." As did Mason Atlas in his opinion, but he wouldn't say that. "What are we going to do with...her room?"
Gina: "Close, he's an investment banker," she chuckled. "His favorite thing is to meet people who think he's a woman when they hear his name and see their faces when they realize he's a man."
Gina leaned against him. "I want it to be the baby's room. But I don't want the baby to feel like he or she is living in her shadow, but I also don't want to just...push her aside."
Lawrence: "I think we can honor both children. I don't see anything wrong with our baby playing with her toys, or wearing old shoes. It doesn't - it'll be fine, as long as you're alright with it."
Gina: "I don't see anything wrong with it either. Those things should be used. Maybe if the baby uses them, they'll feel less sad." Not that the things themselves would feel sad, although this was the same woman who named (and bonded with) all her kitchen appliances and her car.
Lawrence: Gentle kisses were peppered from ear to ear and to her lips. He wanted her to feel loved and appreciated more now than ever with such a delicate subject.
"Our baby will know about her."
Gina: Gina smiled softly, letting his love wash over her. There would be some sadness and fear and maybe some grief as her pregnancy progressed, but right now there was only joy. Joy and love.
"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tight. "I love you so much."
……………………………………………………………
Q: Q balanced three cocktails with ease as he waded through the familiar faces towards where he had left Tane Lukela and Luke Graham. He knew Stacey would be on the hunt; he knew she would find a way to learn who was dating or fucking or trying to fuck whom.
Two couples passed agonizingly slow, women versus men, forced him to wait. He took the moment to tilt his head up to the setting sun and quietly bake.
Tane/Luke: Luke liked to think he was perfectly equipped to handle Stacey. His poker face was second to none, his suspicion of her general person was always at its peak, and he was just cold and hostile enough to deter her and still somehow manage to be polite. She wouldn't get so much as the damn time from him.
But Tane Lukela? Yeah, Luke was in no way equipped to handle him.
He'd been flustered from the moment Q had introduced them and it only got worse when his pretend boyfriend had gone to fetch them drinks. He felt like he was bright red and radiating heat as he explained what he did for a living.
"Ah, so you're one of the good guys," Tane was saying.
"Yea-yep." Luke nodded. "One of the good guys. Only represent the good people. No bad ones."
Q: Q smiled at the mere sight of them. He loved their natural contrast. Already he wanted to see more...so much more. A friendship was all he hoped for, but given the tint of Luke's cheeks, pleasantries only scratched the surface here.
"Are you that intuitive to know which are honest and which are playing you?"
Drinks were passed around, and a wide flirtatious smile was given to both. Step one into easing them into his scheme.
Tane/Luke: Oh, thank god. Alcohol and Q. Maybe now he could make himself calm down.
Luke took the drink gratefully, forcing himself to sip slowly. Being drunk wouldn't do him any favors right now. "With some people, but others require some looking into." Fuck, don't smile at him like that. There was nowhere they could sneak to for a kiss which, unbeknownst to him, was Tane's exact thought.
Tane returned Q's smile before turning to shifting his attention to Luke again. He was so cute with his blush he was trying to pretend wasn't there. "Looking into?"
"Yeah, we um..." Luke cleared his throat. "We have a P.I. on retainer."
"Seriously? How often do you use them?"
"A couple times a month at least, when there's a case that gets ugly."
Q: "More than the usual scandal, I hope? Can't be the same old same old in Raleigh. Too much military around." He was just going to play off their exchanged glances and that obvious look in Tane's eyes. Best he could do for both of them, he believed, was to play as casually as possible.
"So, we're going back to Hawaii for Tane's birthday. Yours being in September, you know, you should come with us."
Tane/Luke: "Never is." He took another sip. He was already starting to feel a little more composed. "People always find new ways to screw each other over, which would be impressive if it weren't such a pain to deal with."
Luke's face lit. "Hawaii?"
Tane nodded. "Yep, Honolulu. Ever been?"
"Never. I've always wanted to though."
"Then you should absolutely come with us. We're taking Logan, too, hopefully."
The offer got more tempting. "When's your birthday?"
"July 30th."
Q: "If I had it my way, we'd be there until your birthday, but as it is, it'll be for four days. What I /really/ want to do is hop around. Hawaii, Australia, New Zealand. I want a whole month dedicated to it, and then a whole month dedicated to the best places on Earth to snowboard."
Tane/Luke: "A month and a half would be nice, but four days in Hawaii is better than four days pretty much anywhere else."
Tane smiled at that, which made Luke's blush just a little darker. He was definitely flustered. "Exactly. Knew we'd get along."
Just drink, Luke told himself. Drink and try to act like a person. "If you want to snowboard, definitely go to Colorado," he said to Q. "And Canada."
The thought of all that snow and cold made Tane shudder. "You go to Canada, I'll stick to showing you around my homeland and adopted homeland."
Luke blinked. "You're Australian?"
Q: "I'll take Colorado. I was thinking more like Sweden, but you know, I should have something to compare it to. Oh and, you are coming with. No excuses."
Tane/Luke: Tane nodded at Luke and shook his head at Q. "I'll freeze to death and go broke buying dad sweaters!"
Q: "You'll be fine! You'll have us to warm you up." He winked at Luke.
Tane/Luke: Luke? Oh Luke wasn't here anymore. A tomato with blond hair had taken his place. "I take it you're not a fan of the cold?" he asked, voice sounding squeaky and nervous to his own ears.
"Not one bit. I grew up in Hawaii and Australia, dealing with snow is not in my wheelhouse. If I go, I'm going to spend the entire trip inside by a fire with a mug of hot chocolate."
Q: "You'd hate Chicago. Especially in winter. It's just an excuse to wear your best clothes and an even better excuse to strip the one you're with."
Tane/Luke: Tane tried not to smile too much when Luke choked on his drink and coughed at Q's little comment. "My step-dad worked in Chicago when he was younger and he told me his eyelashes got frost on them when he was waiting for the bus in the winter. Fuck that. I'll stick to the warmth."
Q: "I going to have to show you Chicago. If you wanna hide that's fine. Maybe you'd prefer March. Everything becomes green."
Tane: "I'll go anywhere in the spring and summer. Colorado, Canada, Chicago, anywhere. The sun is my friend."
Q: "Then it stinks and you can feel the pollution aging your skin."
Tane: "You can go to the beach and swim and have barbecues and bonfires."
Q: "Getting half-naked and sweaty, dropping wet after a swim."
Q looked Luke over and grinned from ear-to-ear. "Am I being too much, baby?"
Tane/Luke: Tane couldn't help but chuckle when, rather than answer, Luke returned to his lovely crimson shade and downed some more of his drink.
"That looks like a yes," he said, taking a drink himself.
Luke cleared his throat, trying to save face a little. But there were two handsome men smiling at him and flustering him and god, he couldn't get it together. "I'm fine. Totally fine."
Q: Q just smiled on patiently. "Would you be totally fine if I kissed you right here and now?"
Luke: "Not with our current audience." And he didn't mean Tane. There were four judgy people just in his line of sight.
Q: "What if weeee were to excuse ourselves from the party in a few minutes?"
Tane/Luke: Luke blinked. Glanced to Tane. Tane put two and two together. Luke blinked again.
"Seriously?" he asked, feeling the sudden need to look around for Stacey and make sure she couldn't hear. So much for his poker face.
Q: Q's tone remained as calm as ever, though with flecks of lighthearted libidinous still present. "Only if you want to, if everyone is comfortable. We don't have to do anything you don't want, baby."
Tane/Luke: There was a certain deer-in-headlights look in Luke's eyes that tugged at Tane. Something was making him nervous, and it wasn't the notion of taking a private moment with Q.
"She won't bother you," he heard himself say as he caught Stacey's voice somewhere in the crowd. His own had gone reassuring and gentle. "Her attention can be focused elsewhere."
Q: "We all arrived as friends, and we're all leaving as friends. That's all she has to know." She had made mountains out of less material, but that wasn't something Q cared about in the least.
Tane/Luke: "And if he tries to say something or stick her nose where it doesn't belong, we'll have Charmaine's little sister Mira say something mean to her." He pointed toward the other side of the room. "She's right over there flirting with that Jason Bourne look-a-like."
That got a smile out of Luke.
Q: The escort laughed. "Yeah. We'll use Mira. Super effective and devastating attack." He wanted to touch Luke, to give him the usual assurance as he would in private.
Tane/Luke: Tane smiled. He could see Luke start to relax, even if it was only a little. "She takes after her Uncle Glenn. She's a third his size but she's just as scary in that really quiet way." The perfect deterrent against Stacey and her big mouth.
"She is scary," Luke said, chuckling softly. It was one of the things he liked best about her. "I'm okay, really."
Q: Stacey, at least in this moment, seemed harmless as she chased her child around the yard yelling, "I'm going to get you!" She wasn't all bad, just a gossip. A really fucking annoying gossip, but her faults were few.
"Smells like the crab boil is almost done. Ever had that before? You know, grab and potato and corn on the cob in one pot?" He grinned at both. "Maybe Tane, but not you."
Luke: Luke grinned back. "I did grow up here, remember? If it has a shell and it came out of the ocean, I've had it cooked a thousand different ways."
Q: "But you're my posh lawyer. There's not a dirty bone in you."
Luke: Now there was a laugh. "Before I was a posh lawyer I was a squeamish kid who used to hide in his brother's lap when fishing with our dad so I wouldn't see the fish guts."
Q: "That's so adorable and also makes my point," he laughed.
Luke: "There are no fish guts today though," Luke chuckled. "I'm fine as long as I can't see or smell them."
Q: "But you're cracking into their hand! They needed those for eating! You're a monster," he teased. He figured Luke was one squeamish moment away from being one of those vegan people.
Tane/Luke: Hearing Tane chuckle made Luke smile even more. "They're chilling out in crab heaven, they're totally fine!"
Q: "You can justify your eating their insides. You're more devious than I imagined!"
Luke: "Oh, yeah. The most devious, posh family lawyer in all North Carolina."
Q: "And you're mine."
Luke: And there went that blush again, this time accompanied by a ridiculous smile that Luke tried to hide by ducking his head.
Q: "What's that? You're hiding from me?"
He stepped closer, but not to touch him with his mouth. That would be too much for their setting. Instead, he whispered in his ear how much he wanted him, how much he wanted to kiss every inch of blush.
He looked into Tane's eyes and winked.
Tane/Luke: "Not from you," he managed, smile obvious even in his voice. He was hiding from everyone else, not wanting to draw any attention to their little corner of the party.
Of course, there was no telling how Luke was going to be able to avoid that with all the lovely, swoon-worthy things Q was whispering to him. He wished with every fiber of his being that they were in an invisibility bubble so he could snuggle into his pretend boyfriend's arms and kiss him.
Tane chuckled silently over Luke's shoulder. "You're flustering him," he mouthed to Q.
Q: Oh, I know, Q thought. I bet you could fluster him just as easily.
Ignorance was bliss, thanks to an elegant past lover, no idea that he possessed an innate preternatural talent. The very same power which could have inflicted Tane Lukela since night one.
"Do you really want to stick around for under seasoned food, or do you want to feign a headache and have us walk you home?"
Tane/Luke: "I thought there was no such thing as under-seasoned in the south," Tane mused, eying the food table suspiciously.
"You'd be surprised." Luke cleared his throat, finally lifting his face. It was very much red. "It's tempting. I could feed us properly seasoned food. Got some mahi at the market I was planning to grill."
Q: "Now that sounds like a party I want to be a part of." An extrovert though he was, time spent with Luke was spent as though paid. His happiness and satisfaction were still very much a priority. He wanted Tane to be a part of Luke's life.
"You do that, and maybe...maybe I'll put on a show for you...both."
Tane/Luke: Tane quickly nodded in agreement. "You had me at mahi. Not enough places around here serve it." Plus, he was curious to see what Luke was like when he was in an environment he felt confident and secure in.
Luke's brows shot up in surprise. "Is that code for a strip tease in my living room?"
Q: "Is that something Mr. Graham would like from me?"
Luke: Ordinarily yes, but Q had said 'both' so...
"....Perhaps. Perhaps."
Q: "What are the conditions required for a yes?"
Luke: "No conditions, just...mulling."
Q: "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, baby."
Luke: Luke nodded. "I know," he said, smiling softly.
Q: "Tane has been a surprise I've been debating for you for a while now." He smiled to Big T, gentle and, as the bouncer would probably recognize, loving. His attention returned to the lawyer, fingers brushed over his hand as he took his glass from him.
"I'll get refills."
Tane/Luke: Of course Tane recognized that smile. It was one of the many, many things he loved about Q, and he would always give one back in kind when he was gifted with it.
Meanwhile, the look of flustered embarrassment on Luke's face had been replaced by one of, well, surprise.
Tane was a surprise? For him? Did Tane know he was a surprise? Even if he didn't, he seemed perfectly fine with it. He was still smiling and friendly. That was probably a good sign, right?
He nodded at Q while the conga line of questions danced through his head. "Okay. Thank you." He turned to Tane. "So...you're...."
"Your surprise," Tane said softly, smiling at Luke in his gentle, soothing way. He hadn't known beforehand but as Luke surmised, he was perfectly fine with it. "Is that okay?"
You're giant and gorgeous. Of course it's okay. "I--yes."
Q: Q took his sweet time in the kitchen, watching them every once in a while from the open window. They were unique. The contrasts between them didn't negate either man. He wouldn't always be what Luke Graham needed. Someday he would have to move on. Tane Lukela was the only man he could think of worthy of his company. He knew he would treat him preciously, like the gift he was. Watching them, it was already apparent that his assumption had been accurate.
Small talk redirected his attention. He allowed it, and allowed himself to relax.
Tane/Luke: Even though he was starting to relax, what remained of Luke's nerves still made Tane smile. He'd never met a lawyer this soft and cute before, and yet he couldn't help but think that not everyone got to see this side of Luke, or even knew it existed. He struck Tane as a very private person and that just tugged at him in some kind of way.
"What Q said still holds up, you know. Surprise or not. You don't have to do anything you don't want to or anything that makes you feel uncomfortable."
Luke nodded again. He hadn't needed it, but the reassurance was still nice. And appreciated. "Thanks for that."
"No need to thank me. It's a given, always will be. For me and for Q." Another smile. "He cares about you a lot, and I can tell you care for him."
A warm tingle settled in Luke's chest. "I do."
Q: Q slowly began to make his way back. Every sectioned crowd was given a greeting and his input. Those outside by the giant pot were assisted in cutting up a new batch of potatoes with his pocket knife. A beer was chugged with the most heavy drinking competitive. Finally, he made his way over.
"What did I miss?"
Tane/Luke: This time around, Luke wasn't nearly as anxious for Q to return as he had been the last time. Which wasn't to say he wasn't keeping an eye out for him, waiting for his warm, comforting presence to make itself known again. Still, it was a good testament to Tane's powers of distraction and innate ability to set people at ease.
He even managed to make Luke laugh. He was still patting himself on the back for it when Q came back to them. "Not much. I was just telling Luke about how my brother Derek scarred me for life literally and metaphorically with the frisbee."
Q: "Oh, that story. You're going to have to get over it, Big T. I'm going to throw one at you every day until you chill. That's what's going to happen."
Tane: "I already did!" he chuckled. "When I played with you and Logan. I even caught it a couple times."
Q: "You still flinched."
Tane/Luke: "But I still caught it!"
Luke couldn't help but smile. He just couldn't imagine this giant man flinching,
Q: "I'll show you later, Luke. It's fucking adorable and yet you want to make it worse and do it again."
Tane/Luke: Tane gasped in sheer, dramatic betrayal and Luke lost his battle with his giggle.
"It is not!" said Tane. "I am not adorable when I'm ducking from rogue frisbees."
Q: "Luke will be the judge of that later," he nodded.
Tane: "Luke is gonna be Logan today because I will hide behind him if you throw the frisbee hard on purpose just to make me flinch."
Q: "Luke will know that getting out of the way is good for you."
Luke: "Luke also has a healthy fear of getting hit in the face," Luke chuckled. "But I will simultaneously protect and help provide exposure therapy."
Q: "You're going to protect him? Tell me how. I want it all."
Luke: "I may be a ref now but once upon a time on my college team I played goal keeper. I'm very good at blocking foreign objects coming at me."
Q: "Are you going to reach the top of his head? Maybe if he ducked. He does that often." Oh, he was grinning from ear-to-ear.
Tane: Tane was squinting at Q. "You're enjoying this far too much." He was definitely going to have to do something about that later.
Q: "What are you going to do about it?" Tell me in front of Luke.
Tane/Luke: A smiled tugged at the corner of Tane's mouth. "Not entirely sure buuuuut…..that ass of yours is very bite-able."
Luke inhaled sharply.
Q: Q smiled knowingly, breathed slowly. "What do you think, Luke? Any truth to that?"
Luke: You would think by now Luke would've relaxed and gotten his blushes under control, but that wasn't the case.
His face was still very much red as he gave a jerky nod. "Mhmm." He didn't trust himself to speak.
Q: "What's the matter, baby?" Q tilted his head, completely innocent.
Luke: He just smiled and shook his head. "Nothin'." Ah ha, he found his voice! "Nothin' at all."
Q: "What's good, then?"
Luke: "Ah, well...Tane's suggestion has merit. A lot of merit."
Q: "Want a demonstration?"
Luke: He gave a slow nod. Not hesitant, just slow.
Q: "Want to go home?" A question asked to both men.
Tane/Luke: Another nod from Luke, along with a smile from Tane. "Let's go have ourselves some seasoned food."
Q: "You know the way to my house." His keys were given to Luke. "Going to say goodbye to our host and explain how so very ill you are, and we need to take care of you."
Luke: "I do," Luke said as he took the keys. If his smile got any bigger his face was going to start to hurt. If anyone believed he was really feeling sick, it would be a miracle. "Just gonna have to stop by my house to grab the food so I can feed you both."
Q: "Take Tane with you. I'll meet you there."
Tane: "You sure?" Tane asked.
Q: "He won't bite unless you want him to."
Tane: He laughed. "I meant about walking all the way back."
Q: "I'll be fine. Promise."
Tane: "All right." Since he couldn't give Q the kiss he wanted to give him in their current setting, he simply gave him a smile that promised one soon. "Come on, Luke, let's go get the food."
………………………………………
MJ: The expensive bottle of wine had almost fallen to the floor, rescued in the last possible second. The vampire exhaled and set it safely aside.
"Are ya sure ya wanna?" The idea had been planted by no other, but it had been a heat of the moment suggestion.
Rohan: Rohan inhaled sharply the moment the bottle slipped out of MJ's hands, exhaling in the same fashion and chuckling as it was caught. They'd narrowly escaped a lecture from Xavier about the carpet.
He smiled at his vampire. "I'm sure. Are you?"
MJ: "I...It's - I'm dead, Ro. I don't...understand. Xavier tried t'explain that I - I dunno what m'sayin'."
Rohan: "You are but you're not." MJ was given a gentle kiss. "It's all right if you change your mind, either now or during. We'll start slow and if you want to stop, we'll stop."
MJ: That sounded reasonable. Of course. Solutions were quicker from the witch than with himself. Answers which saved everyone. And those kisses.
"I wanna be...naked with ya."
Rohan: You like the kisses? Have another, beautiful vampire. "As you wish, puiule," he whispered, locking the door and leading MJ over to the bed.
"Want me to do the honors?"
MJ: "So long as I get t'undress ya." So satisfying it was to peel away his clothes like an ugly second skin for something so appealing.
Rohan: His smile radiated with affection for the man before him. "I would never dream of refusing you."
Rohan stepped within his vampire's reach, taking the liberty of removing his shoes before allowing those lovely cool hands to roam everywhere they wished.
MJ: This was a favorite ritual of his. To slide his hands underneath Rohan's shirt, allowing him to siphon his chill before removing the barrier altogether.
"Ro..."
Rohan: Rohan hummed softly at that initial difference in temperate, smile slowly growing as MJ's evened out with his own. He lifted his arms obligingly so his vampire could remove his shirt and stole another kiss before asking, "Yes?"
MJ: "Do you ever think 'bout anyone else?"
Rohan: "In the same way I think about you?" Rohan shook his head as he kissed MJ's shoulder. "No."
MJ: "Not...ever?" He cupped his face and leaned away enough to study his expression.
Rohan: MJ would find nothing but sincerity, and perhaps a bit of curiosity. "Not since the day I met you."
MJ: "The day I came in here all bloody n'crazy?"
Rohan: He nodded. "That day."
MJ: "But..." I was a catastrophe. "Are we... What are we?"
Rohan: A thumb caressed MJ's jaw. "I suppose you could say we're dating or simply....together. Together has a nice ring to it. But what do you want us to be?"
MJ: He leaned into his hand and quietly debated. He knew his instinct.
"Like...a... Ya know like...when ya smoke, or drink, orgasm or pop a pill. That high like... it's not all perfect, but, life ain't shit anymore? S'what it's like with ya. I wanna keep it, but I know the high goes away."
Rohan: "Eventually, perhaps." The perhaps was very important in this scenario. Even if MJ wasn't ready for something permanent or didn't want to label whatever was between them, Rohan wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.
"But not now. Not for a long time," he whispered, nuzzling his beautiful vampire's cheek.
MJ: "N'ya still wanna..." Those kisses were distracting, simple though they were. "...Ya still wanna...have sex with me? Real sex?"
Rohan: Rohan nodded. "I do, but still only if that's what you want too."
MJ: "N'ya don't see it as...as..."
Rohan: He shook his head. "I don't."
MJ: "Then...finish undressin' me. Please."
Rohan: MJ was given a soft smile and one of those kisses he loved so much as Rohan pulled him close. He wanted every bit of his vampire in reach while he eased his shirt off, while he undid his jeans, while he lavished every inch of exposed skin with affection.
Rohan was going to take his time and take great care with the precious man in his arms. He wanted tonight to be as pleasurable for MJ as possible.
MJ: Bare skin, pale, dusted with the occasional dark freckle. A mole over his rib.
He wanted to give Rohan similar treatment, but he wanted to wait. He wanted to be completely nude before offering the same to his witch. It felt... submissive.
Rohan: Every one of those freckles was given loving, lingering attention, as was that sweet little mole. As was all of MJ.
Rohan's lips followed MJ's jeans as he slid them down the vampire's legs, and once they had been tossed away, the process was repeated with MJ's boxers until at last there was nothing between him and all that lovely skin. He would slowly work his way back up MJ's body, pausing briefly at his groin to press a soft kiss just above the base of his shaft.
MJ: No one had ever made him feel so feminine. No one had been given the opportunity. Not even Peter Graham, the man he believed to be his and his alone.
What an inappropriate time to think about the man that had broken his heart.
Rohan was suddenly held around his shoulders, face nuzzled into his neck.
Rohan: The sudden movement took Rohan by surprise. For half a second he expected and prepared for MJ to tell him to stop, that it was too much and that he'd changed his mind. But then his vampire was simply holding him.
"It's all right, puiule," he murmured, arms immediately coming up to hold MJ close, to offer reassurance and comfort and affection. "I've got you. It's just you and me. I've got you."
MJ: "M'alright," he muttered. "Don't need t'talk t'me like that. M'not gonna break." Not yet, anyway. Not by this.
Rohan: Rohan nodded and kissed MJ's shoulder, hands rubbing over his back for both the pleasure of feeling his skin and to reassure.
MJ: "Ya feel so warm," he marveled at the differences in their skin. "Aren't ya hot all the time?"
Rohan: He chuckled softly. "Only in the summer. All other times I'm comfortable, even when it's cold. I have that thick Romanian blood."
MJ: "Show off." What would Rohan do with fangs teased against his throat, with the obvious arousal against his thigh? How would he feel to the deliberate breaths against his skin...
Rohan: How would he feel in the face of so many signs of MJ's attraction and arousal?
Absolutely divine.
Rohan gave an appreciative little hum, hold tightening around MJ so he could feel more of him. That beautiful face required kisses, as did that shoulder. And that perfectly sculpted ass? Well that needed a loving squeeze.
MJ: Rohan must have known that such a hold made him feel secure, protected from that which was within. It would do nothing against Victoria, he assumed. He was mistaken. The stronger he felt, the less control she could wield.
"Tighter."
Rohan: If MJ wanted to be held tighter then Rohan would practically fuse them together. He'd lower him to the bed and all but wrap around him as he covered him with kisses.
MJ: No one. Not one man or woman had ever - he must have repeated that thought a hundred times.
He hadn't given Peter a chance to.
"Just...um... If we, uh, do this...are ya gonna be rough, or...?"
Rohan: Rohan shook his head. "No, puiule. If we do, it's going to be nice and easy. I want you to be comfortable."
MJ: "How do you want me. Like this on my back?"
Rohan: "For now, yes." They could change positions later if MJ preferred or needed it. They had all the time in the world and Rohan intended to use it all. MJ deserved for his first time being with someone like this to be special, for the person he chose to be gentle and thorough and put his pleasure and comfort above all else and Rohan was immensely honored to be that person.
"I'm going to prep you first. We'll go slow, I promise."
MJ: "Ya -Ya don't gotta - Ya ain't gotta be gentle. I mean...m'not gonna cry. Not much can hurt me, so..." A tough front, unwarranted bravery in the face of sex. He wondered...if Peter would be this caring. He wondered if Fletcher Goodman had been careful with him.
Rohan deserved better.
"Are ya sure ya want me? Are ya sure - Why me? I'm trash."
Rohan: "I'm sure, puiule," Rohan murmured, pulling MJ into a kiss and pouring himself into it. It was far more eloquent than anything he could ever say.
You're the farthest thing from trash there is. You're good. You're beautiful. You mean the world to me and I want you so much.
MJ: Naked and vulnerable, MJ involuntarily mewled into their kiss. Safe, he chanted. He was safe here. This man loved him. This man...
He kissed his jaw and fiddled with the witch's hair.
"If we're a thing, are - Ya won't...ever...cheat, will ya? Just be honest. I can take it." He couldn't.
Rohan: That was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard his vampire make and it made every single fiber of Rohan's being clench with feeling.
He nuzzled MJ's cheek, kissed it. "Never. I'm yours, MJ. Only yours."
MJ: He'd told Peter to move on, so it hadn't been cheating.
No, he'd come back. Peter had every opportunity to tell him. He hadn't. He lied.
He deserved it for having Victoria inside him.
When had his eyes glazed pink with tears he couldn't say. He didn't realize.
"Promise?"
Rohan: More kisses were placed on MJ's lips, his face, his hair. It broke Rohan's heart to see him cry.
"On my life."
MJ: MJ covered his face when he realized what had happened. A soft growl of frustration followed.
"Sorry." Man the fuck up.
Rohan: "Don't apologize." So many more kisses, for distraction and affection and everything in between.
MJ: "You're too sweet," he grumbled.
Rohan: He smiled against MJ's skin. "No such thing when it comes to you."
MJ: "See! There ya go again!"
Rohan: Rohan would simply continue to smile and lavish affection on MJ every which way he possibly could.
MJ: "Stooooop," he whined, laughing a moment later.
Rohan: Ah, there it was! That lovely laugh he didn't get to hear nearly enough of.
He finally lifted his head, smile triumphant. "Stop? As you wish! My kisses will be locked away!"
MJ: "Good." No, no not good at all. Now it was his turn to lovingly assault his beautiful witch with kisses from his face to his neck to his shoulder.
Rohan: MJ would be immediately rewarded with soft, appreciative hums as Rohan melted into the affection. He'd never get his fill of those lips and those kisses. They were just too perfect, and the only way he could think to communicate that was sneaking in some more affection of his own. MJ's chest was right there, after all. It would be positively criminal not to love on it.
………………………………..
MJ/Lawrence: MJ held his arms around Rohan's head and breathed him in. His shampoo, his natural scent, the subtlety of the wine cellar.
Lawrence looked over the list for what felt like the hundredth time. Things they would need. Things they would want. When they would need to see the doctor, and the pros and cons of leaving his home with Mason Atlas.
Rohan/Gina: Whatever MJ did, if he was within easy reach he was going to be held tight and lavished with all the love Rohan could possibly give him.
Gina watched Lawrence stare at his paper, imagining she could see the wheels turning in his head. It was a good long time before she said, "If you look at that list any harder you're going to burn a hole in it."
Lawrence: "Hmm?" He managed to tear his eyes away to look at her.
Gina: She smiled. "Where are you?"
Lawrence: "Finances, months ahead of us." He tapped his pen over the last of his tasks. Possibly moving out of Cameron.
"I don't want you to have to see him."
Gina: "I haven't in months." She didn't have to ask who Lawrence meant. "Something tells me I'm a subject he avoids like the plague. Maybe even more so now."
Lawrence: "Mason doesn't hate you."
Gina: Gina gave him a disbelieving look.
Lawrence: "He has no reason to. You didn't influence Callum. With you or not that man doesn't care about me."
Gina: She reached for Lawrence's hand and held it to her cheek. "That's his loss. You're wonderful. Possibly the most wonderful human being ever."
Lawrence: Her fiancé smiled. "You're just putting a daisy chain on the truth."
Gina: "No daisy chains. Just the truth." She kissed his palm. "What else is on your list?"
Lawrence: "I need to rethink and...or...expand my career. I want to be on the right foot for this."
Gina: Gina smiled. He really was the most wonderful man she'd ever met.
"You already are. Tell me what you're thinking. Your career has to be a source of happiness. Or it should be anyway."
Lawrence: "Notary is Mason's job, his life, a source of satisfaction. It's not difficult to maintain, but I'm not also a contract demon. I love...domestic work."
Gina: She considered for a moment. "Could I run something by you? If it's too weird you can absolutely say no."
Lawrence: He gestured for her to continue, sitting back in his chair.
Gina: "What if you worked at the inn? Supervising the cleaning staff?"
Lawrence: "Is that - Is that something you actually want?"
Gina: "I've been thinking about it for a while. I just didn't know if you would like the idea or think it was too weird but....I would love it if we ran the inn together. It's going to be our inn now. Not just mine."
Lawrence: "I don't want you to feel obligated or compelled to share with me. I don't want to take away your independence. This is yours and I don't want you to write me in any documentation."
Gina: "I don't and you aren't. I own a business and a home and a car, my independence is well established." She leaned over to kiss him. "I'm offering because I want to."
Lawrence: "So... you want me to be the housekeeping manager? And who is right now?"
Gina: "Would you be interested? Mary-Beth Carter is right now, but she gave notice nearly two weeks ago since she got a new job in Kitty Hawk."
Lawrence: "She moved? Where has my mind been..."
Gina: "Not properly. She's been moving slowly over the past few weeks instead of doing it all at once."
Lawrence: He resisted the urge to ask if she needed assistance. With a child on the way, such good will would have to take a backseat. To an extent.
"...Alright. Yes, then. But if and when you're done with me, say so."
Gina: "Yay!" Gina gave him another kiss and squeezed him tight. "I could never be done with a man who attacks a dirty oven with the white-hot passion of a thousand suns."
Lawrence: To that he actually laughed. "To think I found a woman with as much passion for cleaning as I have."
Gina: "It's so satisfying!" she chuckled. "And dinner's more fun when we have dance parties with the kitchen clean up afterward."
Lawrence: "We're an 80’s movie about coming of age."
Gina: "We are. All we need is ridiculous hair and denim jackets."
Lawrence: "I'll have you know denim jackets are cool."
Gina: She chuckled again. "Sweetie, you might be the only person who can pull one off."
Lawrence: "And men with long hair, with tassels on the sleeves."
Gina: "You could pull of those too. And aviator sunglasses and saying 'bitchin' every other sentence."
Lawrence: "What kind of image have you made of me?"
Gina: "It's forming as we speak," she laughed. "We should have 80's themed costumes for Halloween."
Lawrence: "What will you be?"
Gina: "Madonna."
Lawrence: "Pointy breasts and everything?"
Gina: She laughed. "Yep! Although by that point it'll be a little difficult to pull it off."
Lawrence: "A pregnant Madonna. You'll be fine!"
Gina: "That's one word for it," she said with another laugh. "You know, I bet there really is a maternity size Madonna costume that exists."
Lawrence: "You could be a victim from the Alien films, too."
Gina: "Ooh, I could! Or Ripley!"
Lawrence: "The best part of being pregnant is going to be Halloween, isn't it?" he laughed.
Gina: Gina grinned. "Absolutely. I get to eat all the chocolate I want!"
Lawrence: "How..." He shouldn't be shy about the subject, but he was. "...How many complications did you experience the first time?"
Gina: It was understandable, considering her history. She squeezed his hand. "None with my actual pregnancy. I had anemia but so did my mama when she was pregnant with me."
Lawrence: "Anemia. What - What does that entail while pregnant?"
Gina: "It basically means I'm not producing enough healthy red blood cells for me and the baby, so my doctor had me take iron tablets and vitamin B12."
Lawrence: Nodding, the pad and pen were take once more to write what she said.
Gina: "Oh, also folic acid and ginger since I had pretty severe morning sickness which was partially what caused the anemia."
Lawrence: "I'll look into pregnant friendly foods with the highest iron content. Probably dark leafy greens."
Gina: She smiled. "Yep, that's what I ate. All I wanted was spinach salad with strawberries. And lobster rolls."
Lawrence: "You can have lobster?"
Gina: "Yep, in moderation."
Lawrence: "I feel...like being alive for a lifetime could have come in handy at this time."
Gina: "Pregnancy is a weird and complicated topic. Even people who have been alive for a lifetime have plenty to learn."
Lawrence: "Is that...Does that bother you any?"
Gina: Gina shook her head. "Not one bit. There was a lot I didn't learn before that I'm excited to learn with you. Not just about pregnancy but raising a baby, too."
Lawrence: "And...what about other things? Things like what I am and behind the veil?"
Gina: She shook her head again. "What you are has never bothered me, the things beyond the veil don't bother me. All that matters to me is that we're together and we love each other and that we communicate. I always want us to be able to communicate."
Lawrence: "I understand that you were taken aback by my big reveal, but you don't miss what I was? Is this," his face to which he gestured, "actually alright?"
Gina: Her face softened as she smiled. "This," she said, lifting a hand to his face, "is absolutely beautiful. You look different but you're still you. You still /feel/ like you. My Lawrence."
Lawrence: Lawrence softly blinked, stunned by her positivity and acceptance. This woman gave more than his own - no. He didn't want that thought like a plague rotting his future. If he did, he knew he'd also think of her own, wherever her soulmate was.
"I'm robbing someone of you."
Gina: "I really don't think you are. Call it a gut feeling."
Lawrence: "You're just saying that, Ginnie."
Gina: "If I didn't believe it, maybe. But I do believe it. I don't think I have a supposed soulmate out there. I believe you're it for me. You're the love of my life, the father of our child, and soon my husband."
Lawrence: "I wish I had your kind of belief. It's beautiful, like faith."
Gina: She smiled, kissing his knuckles. "Maybe one day you'll have it, too. Babies bring faith and belief."
Lawrence: "I'm going to be a father," he mused. Smile slowly returned to light his features. "I want to forget - forget why I exist and give myself a new reason. You."
Gina: "Yeah, you are." More kisses were given to his hand and then his face. She was so very grateful he existed. "Not just me anymore, sweetheart." She placed his hand over her belly again. "Don't forget little name-to-come."
……………………………………………
Q: Q felt his pocket for the second time as he wound the sidewalk leading up to the apartments. He hadn't expected to see his Tracker under his personal carport. They had real chemistry, and his expectations for their budding relationship was high. High enough to offer his own body for their mutual pleasure. Who knew? Maybe Tane would realize he would never find true love with a prostitute. He would have to wait and see.
Tane/Luke: The trip to his house and then to Q's wasn't nearly as awkward as Luke had (briefly) been afraid it was going to be. They made small talk, Luke gave Tane a tour of the first floor of Pete's house, he introduced him to Midas. All with only a couple of moments of silence. Definitely something to be proud of.
When Q entered his apartment, he'd find Tane dutifully playing sous chef while Luke prepped their meal. Luke was blushing something fierce and Tane had a distinctly amused look on his face that Q was sure to recognize as the one he wore when saying random and scandalous things to make someone laugh.
Q: Q had quietly shut the door behind himself. Not wanting to surprise, but wanting to have a better study of the two without their notice. This was Tane and Luke without his influence, and he liked what he saw.
"Whatever he said, it's probably true."
Tane: Tane looked over when he heard Q's voice, grin still in place. "It is. I'm telling him about that really really drunk lady at that bachelorette party who hit on both of us, Stacey, some random girl, and then the boss. Remember, she was yelling everything she wanted us to do and thought she was whispering?"
Q: "Ah, yeah. I've never seen her since. I think she's too embarrassed to ever show her face again."
Luke: "I would be too," Luke muttered, trying to compose himself. "I'd probably never leave my house again."
Q: "Don't say shit like that. I will come up with horrific ways to embarrass you in public. I'll fall to my knees and kiss your ass."
Luke: "I'll spontaneously combust. You wouldn't make me spontaneously combust."
Q: "I will if the spirit grabs me," he grinned.
Luke: Have a puppy dog look.
Q: He would have it, and he would dare kiss those lips in front of Tane. Soft, slow, deliberate. What would Tane think? feel?
"Just like that," he purred. "The spirit grabbed me."
Tane/Luke: The spirit had made Luke's entire face and probably his body go bright red and immediately burrow into the crook of Q's neck to hide. From the embarrassment? From Tane? Who knew.
But if Luke was worried about Tane, he needn't have been. The reaction to that kiss had to be one of the sweetest, most intimate things he'd ever witnessed, and he felt strangely...moved by it.
Q: Arms wound their way around Luke's shoulders, swaying him in an effort to coax a laugh or smile. He turned them just so to lay eyes on the bouncer, locking eyes with an interest in his thoughts and compulsions.
Tane/Luke: Q succeeded. It wasn't a laugh, but Q would definitely be able to feel a smile against his skin.
Tane was looking on with a soft smile, one that just got softer when he met Q's gaze. What he was seeing there was a lot of trust from Luke. Trust that he would be able to hide against Q, that Q would hold him and make him feel safe. It was beautiful to see. So much so that a part of him wondered what it would be like to experience it for himself.
But he and Luke weren't there yet. Developing that trust took time and they'd only just met.
Q: Trust was part of his job. It had been since his first hundred dollars. Trust to be clean, appropriate, skilled, the perfect pseudo boyfriend. But Luke was more than a client. He had been since before the checks stopped flowing. He didn't know what to call them.
"So," he whispered, "dinner, yeah? You're teaching him how to be a proper chef?"
Luke: Luke nodded. It was so tempting to just stay snuggled against Q; it was by far his favorite place to be.
"Yeah. He's a decent chef already."
Q: "Is he now?" he chuckled. "He sure fooled me."
Tane: "Hey," said Tane. "I'm an excellent sous chef and part time chef."
Q: "What have you ever made me besides breakfast?"
Tane: "Shrimp, in many ways. Sometimes with rice."
Q: "Your Hawaiian is showing."
Luke: Ah, what was that? A giggle from a certain lawyer who had yet to emerge from hiding?
Q: Oh, that noise. He wanted more of it. He would take it by loving force, tickling at his ribs without mercy.
"What was that noise? Did that come outta here?"
Tane/Luke: Luke was helpless to stop the flood of giggles caused by such a loving assault, or to keep from squirming in a half-hearted effort to get away.
Just like Tane was helpless to stop the smile from splitting his face in half. It was official. Luke Graham was the most adorable lawyer in the world.
Q: Once Luke seemed too exhausted to resist, he was lifted into his arms by his ass. He loved hearing this man laugh. He loved being the cause just as much.
"No room on the counter for you. Guess you're trapped in my arms."
Tane/Luke: Luke all but wrapped himself around Q, nuzzling in even further as Tane's expression went all soft and melty again.
It wasn't just trust that Luke had with Q; it was complete trust. Luke could relax and be vulnerable and maybe even forget Tane was there because he knew Q wouldn't drop him.
"Guess I am," Luke said happily.
Q: Luke would hear a soft chuckle in his ear, followed by a trail of kisses down his neck. Precious man. He needed to be protected for when he'd no longer be around. Hence Tane Lukela.
Time to give the neglected Tane some attention.
"What stage are you guys on? Need help, Big T?"
Tane: Tane tore his mind away from the sweetness that was Luke and smiled at Q.
"We're nearing the end. Need to get a grill pan going and marinate the fish."
Q: "You'll be the first to use any of that stuff. You know what I eat on the daily."
Tane: "Yes I do. You and Logan are on the same level cooking wise."
The grill pan was placed on the stove before he went to grab the fish from the fridge.
Q: "I beg to differ. She can actually bake. I make smoothies."
Tane: "That's still amazing to me. We both watched her make a full fledged baked Alaska and burn pasta in the same day."
Q: "She's quite the catch." Just like the man in his arms. He deserved another kiss and sweet nothings whispered in his ear.
Tane/Luke: "Yes she is." He looked over in time to see the affectionate exchange and it made him smile once more.
Luke had braved enough to return Q's kisses, albeit in a much more demure way than he usually would. There was a big part of him that wanted to say screw food and just stay right where he was, but that would be rude.
Q: "So, before...you agreed with something Big T said. Do you remember what that was?"
Luke: Luke's blush returned as he nodded.
Q: "Why don't you tell me."
Luke: He would, but he'd whisper it very softly, so only Q would be able to hear.
"That your ass is biteable."
Q: "Do you want to see that?"
Luke: A moment. A pause. And another nod.
Q: Eyes never left the man in his arms. "T, you want to show Luke what it's like to bite my ass?"
Tane: Tane could practically sense Luke burrowing again without even having to turn around.
"You know," he began, tone light and gentle, "I really think I would."
Q: "Might want to turn the stove down, then."
Luke was gently tossed onto the touch, and the man he enjoyed calling boyfriend turned back to the kitchen and placed his hands on the fridge.
"All yours," he purred.
Tane/Luke: The sudden absence of Q's warmth left Luke feeling cold enough to want to protest, and had it not been for the anticipation of what he was about to see, he would have. As it was, he'd keep himself warm and give himself a hiding place using one of the couch pillows, because apparently Tane's presence was enough to make him as shy as when he...nope. He'd never been this shy. Ever. This was a first for him, one of many he suspected would come today.
Tane chuckled and turned the pan all the way to low. "Just like that, huh? No ceremony or anything. Right to the point." Have a chaste kiss to your shoulder.
Q: Q knew what Tane was going to do. At least he assumed, going off of every other time he'd played the same game with him before. What he knew for certain was Tane's lips against him, clothed or unclothed, was both soothing and arousing. He could calm his mind and divert his thoughts, but instead allowed himself to bask in the attention and his own selfish erection. This was what Luke wanted to see, after all.
"Slow," was his command. "Give baby a show." Much like his own, trailing his hands to the top of the fridge, allowing full access to his ass.
Tane: Oh, Tane could do slow. Tane loved slow. It gave him time to lavish and explore at his leisure, and now it would also offer Luke a very special show.
Starting at the back of his neck, Tane kissed his way down Q's body, letting his hands trail ahead of his lips and stopping when he hit the small of his bartender's back. Only then did Tane lift up Q's shirt, finally kissing bare skin as he slooooowly inched his pants just far down enough to expose that beautiful ass of his.
Q: His ass so exposed for Luke's viewing pleasure was exactly what he had expected. This had to be a positive experience for his favorite lawyer. He wanted him to enjoy every moan of pleasure and approval. Bare skin needed to be admired by both men. His shirt was tossed aside, offering a better view of his lithe willing body. Sun kissed skin warm and inviting. Almost everywhere. The subject matter at heart was still very much pale.
Tane/Luke: Luke wasn't sure how he was feeling about all this--there was a lot going on in his head at the moment--but so far...this was a very positive experience. He didn't feel weird or jealous seeing Tane with Q, like he was afraid he would, but there was still a lot of shyness and vulnerability he had to work through. No matter how enjoyable it was to experience, he simply wasn't used to being in an intimate situation like with anyone other than Q. Sure he'd had his share of boyfriends but Q was different.
A fact that was obvious to Tane, who was making sure not to move too suddenly or look at Luke directly for fear of embarrassing him further or making him feel uncomfortable. He wasn't only being gentle with Q; he was being gentle with Luke now, too. This would be a show, but it would be a gentle, loving show.
As gentle and loving as the series of open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips he placed all over that beautiful pale skin, watching Luke's reaction out of the corner of his eye.
Q: Q remained as still as he could, allowing his approval to show with soft hums and dips and turns of his head. If he focused, he wouldn't have to submit to arousal.
"What do you want to see now, Luke?"
Tane/Luke: Ah, but they hadn't gotten to their main event yet. The thing that had piqued Luke's curiosity and landed them here.
Before Luke could try to respond, Tane gave him a wink and gave a playful little bite to Q's ass.
Q: "Ahn!" Nails lightly scraped over the stainless steel fridge. A laugh quickly followed. "Goddammit. Ya got me."
Tane: "Oh yes I did," Tane chuckled warmly, pressing a kiss to the same spot to soothe. "Lulled you and your ass into a false sense of security."
Q: "Neither of you will gain access to this temple." Another little something for Luke.
Tane: "Promises, promises." Another playful bite and Q's pants were set to rights.
Q: And it was back to their cooking, playing it smooth for Luke's sake.
"How was that?" he asked the man on the couch.
Tane/Luke: Luke would've responded, but he was busy blushing and trying to gather himself.
Surely the look in his eyes would answer for him; it had been a very pleasant sight.
Q: "I think we broke him," he whispered.
Tane: Tane smiled to himself. "Maybe just a little. Better go kiss him back to life."
Q: Then his spoon was set aside. He joined him on the couch and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
Luke: Luke immediately leaned into Q. "Hi," he murmured softly.
Q: "Are you alright, baby?"
Luke: He nodded, offered Q a shy little smile. "Better than."
Q: "Good." A kiss to his cheek, his temple, and his hand.
Luke: The smile got brighter. "We should go to the beach. Get some sun."
Q: "Today? Tomorrow?"
Luke: "Soon. I know all the good beaches without any tourists. Completely private."
Q: "So you're saying a nude beach," he grinned.
Luke: "Not officially but yes," Luke chuckled.
Q: "Is...Tane invited?"
Luke: He glanced over to where Tane had resumed dinner prep and nodded. "Yes. He is."
Q: "So you're alright with Tane?" he quietly asked.
Luke: Another nod. "Yeah, I think I am," he said just as softly. He's a lot like you."
Q: "Twice the fun," he smiled.
Luke: "And twice the handsome. I might swoon."
Q: "Swoon, will you?" He kissed his neck again. "What a romantic notion."
Luke: "Yep, maybe more than once." He hummed softly at the kiss, nuzzling him. His blush had started to fade in the face of such lovely affection.
"What can I say, you bring out the romantic in me."
Q: "You understand why I want Tane here?" The apartment was small. He expected the bouncer to hear every word. That was somewhat the point. What was more critical was Luke's understanding.
Tane/Luke: Tane did, but he didn't plan to interrupt unless he was spoken to directly. This was a moment Luke needed to have with Q.
And to that end, Luke tried to speak as softly as possible. "Kind of?"
Q: "I won't always be in Edenton," he continued on just as gently. "I want you to have another friend. And...maybe more."
Luke: "What do you mean you won't always be in Edenton?" Was Q leaving?
Q: "Someday I am going to move. I love this place," and he paused, allowing Luke to fill in the blank, "but it's not my forever home."
Luke: His gaze fell to his lap. That sounded too much like he was never going to see Q again and Luke didn't like it. He didn't even live in Edenton full time himself but something about 'it's not my forever home' sounded too much like....
Q: "Baby? Talk to me." That silence was much too long.
Luke: Luke shook his head. "It's nothing." He didn't want to think about Dana. That was for nights at his condo when he was alone and couldn't sleep.
Q: The very thought which had Q pressing his forehead against his neck, breathing him in.
"Why are you here?"
Luke: He reached for Q's hand, suddenly in need of the comfort it provided. "To spend time with you," he whispered. "To get to know Tane. To have dinner."
Q: Q took his hand and kissed each finger.
"Is knowing Tane like you do me going to make you happy?"
Luke: He smiled and leaned against Q. "Time will tell, but I hope so."
Q: "Good. Mind if I kiss you?"
Luke: "I don't mind one bit."
Q:  Now for another question.
"Will you mind?" he asked the man in the kitchen.
Tane: The man in the kitchen simply smiled and shook his head. "Not one bit," he echoed.
Q: A temptation crept into his chest like every sexual inkling. Would he mind kissing Luke? He bit his lip and considered, but thought better of it. Instead turning back to his favorite lawyer for his lips.
Tane/Luke: Tane wouldn't mind at all, but it was probably too soon. They'd have to ease Luke into it, help him feel comfortable and safe.
And nothing could do that better than Q's kisses.
Luke hummed softly, melting against his pretend boyfriend, aware of Tane's presence but feeling at ease.
Q: Easing Luke probably didn't mean placing his hand between his legs. It probably didn't mean squeezing, gently biting his throat, humming against his skin knowing what it would do to him.
Luke: It probably didn't, but that didn't mean Luke wouldn't react to the touch.
His breath caught in his throat as his thighs closed around Q's hand. He wouldn't let the moan building in his chest escape.
Q: "Do you want me to stop?" he whispered.
Luke: Luke shook his head.
Q: Then he would continue to squeeze.
"Tell me when to stop." He would unzip him if allowed, though his hand would not dip on the other side just yet. He wanted to gauge his reaction. Luke's security was his number one concern.
Tane/Luke: Tane had stopped mid-chop to watch the scene unfolding on the couch, eyes alight with quiet but very focused interest. He could tell Luke was holding back some, which wasn't a surprise at all, but what he wasn't holding back? Now that was a beautiful sight to behold.
Luke was clinging to Q, hiding his face against the bartender's neck. His lower half was starting to give jerky little movements, clearly aching for more but again, holding himself back.
Q: Squeeze after squeeze without relief. He wanted to torture, just enough to coax a beautiful sound from his companion. Give me something more, his fingers commanded, his lips plead, nuzzling in order to capture that perfect mouth.
Tane/Luke: It was the kiss that did him in. He never could resist those wonderful lips, much less control his reaction to them. Especially not when they were paired with those fingers.
The softest, sweetest little whimper finally managed to escape him, making him hide more at the same moment Tane felt a shock of lust go straight to his groin.
Q: Q's smile would have hurt had he allowed it in full. He had suspected such gentle and submissive noises from this man. Opposite of his brawny and hirsute body. Now there was a witness, a willing audience. Despite his assumption, it had not prepared his body for its reaction.
That cock belonged in his mouth. He asked permission in his ear, and kissed it.
Tane/Luke: Permission was given with another soft whimper. His body's need was successfully trumping his shyness, although not entirely. Absent Q's neck, Luke would be hiding his face in the couch pillow again.
Meanwhile, Tane had given up on cooking entirely in favor of watching the two men on the couch. His hands were itching to touch but he didn't dare approach. This situation was still so new and fragile.
Q: Slowly, with the same attentiveness as Tane, Q dropped to his knees. No sudden movements. His shirt was raised. Open mouth kisses and tongue across and around his navel.
Luke: Luke clung to the pillow like a man clinging to a life preserver. Behind it, his face was bright red and his breathing was quickening. It was just now hitting him that Q wouldn't be the only person seeing...well. A tiny part of his brain wondered what Tane would think. Of him, of this situation, of his reactions. What if he didn't like--
The potential litany of 'what if's' was cut off by Q's wandering mouth.
Luke's breath hitched, hips moving in an attempt to follow the affection. More. He wanted more.
Q: His gaze quickly turned to Tane, questioning his appeal. His crotch was studied and admired.
Flesh was softly bitten. Nudity was the logic in which to follow. But first, "Luke. Look at me. Tell me if this is okay."
Tane/Luke: The appeal and Tane's response to it was written all over his face and reflected in his eyes and his stance. All of his attention was on Luke and on the erection nestled against the soft looking blond hair on his abdomen. He wanted to touch so badly. Would Q be able to tell? Would Luke?
It took a few long seconds, but eventually the pillow lowered just enough for Luke to be able to peer over the top. He could feel Tane's gaze even without meeting it.
He nodded. "It's okay," he whispered.
Q: Wasn't he just beautiful, Tane? That golden hair and sun kissed skin from his weekends of soccer. His shyness, his masculinity, his femininity. He was just so fuckable.
The approval given, he smiled, kissed his stomach one more. "I'm going to undress you now. Want to undress me? Take my shirt off."
Tane/Luke: Absolutely beautiful, and all the more so because he strongly suspected Luke had no idea.
Luke whimpered softly again, burrowing his face against the pillow once more. Just for a little while though. The thought of being able to feel Q's bare skin against his was too appealing to pass up.
Very carefully, the pillow was set aside and the hem of Q's shirt grabbed. Up and over his head it went.
Q: Good. That's exactly what he wanted to see. He raised his arms and chuckled, allowing Luke to keep the garment if he wanted to.
"You're so fucking edible," he teased, nipping softly at his stomach (again) before giving the same treatment.
Luke: Oh, he was keeping it. It was soft and smelled like Q and that was even more comforting than having a pillow to hide his face with.
Ah ha, Q finally managed to get a teeny little smile from Luke! "Edible?" he asked quietly, feeling all warm and glowy and squirmy inside when Q gave more affection to his stomach.
Q: "Mhm. I'm gonna just eat you up, Mr. Graham." Starting with those lips. His tongue offered only a heartbeat into their touch.
Luke: There was a soft chuckle that turned into a soft, dreamy sigh at the kiss. If Q's shirt was a comfort, then his kisses were where Luke felt most at ease, most relaxed, most free to be himself and enjoy.
He let go of Q's shirt in favor of clinging to the man himself, wrapping his arms around his pretend boyfriend's neck to bring him closer.
"Promise?" Luke whispered.
Q: Those needy arms did things to him. This man had been one of his favorite clients. He would become a fond memory when the time came.
Those warm arms were kissed, followed again by his lips.
"I promise I'll eat you nice and slow."
Luke: Shy, embarrassed Luke seemed to be dissipating with every new kiss, allowing more and more of smiley, loving, needy Luke to shine through who hummed into every kiss and made a tiny noise of protest if Q's lips moved away for any reason.
"And you'll give me all the kisses?"
Q: "Every single kiss you want from me."
It was time to remove every article of clothing between them. His pacing was no longer slow and mindful. He felt confident in himself and Luke to move forward, to relax and trust Luke's response to Tane's gaze.
Tane/Luke: "I want a million," he said, smiling so brightly Tane felt his heart clench across the room.
He felt like he was walking a fine line between appreciating the sight of Q rapidly undressing Luke and making him uncomfortable, but from the looks of things he was successfully staying on the appreciation side. He might've even taken a step or two closer.
It was all he could do to keep himself from heading directly to the couch to see if that chest hair was as soft as it looked.
For Luke's part, he was helping Q undress him and returning the favor, resuming his clinging the moment they were both completely bare. And that lovely neck? Well it had gone far too long without some affection. As had those shoulders. And that chest.
Q: Q closed his eyes and allowed Luke to seduce him. His body was warm with life and appropriately turgid. He leaned closer to whisper his proposal.
"Do you want to make love to me? Do you want to watch Tane's hands on me?"
Tane/Luke: The proposal may have been whispered, but Luke's reaction was more akin to it having been shouted. They'd only switched roles once or twice before, and it had never been in a situation quite like this.
Still, the idea of loving on Q and watching someone else do the same.....it had an appeal that made his heart race.
He looked from Q to Tane's stunned face and nodded very slowly.
Q: Q didn't want to put Luke in a position so vulnerable as to be the submissive in Tane's presence. It was a choice he made, but one Luke could refuse if he wanted, which was why it had been a question. He was mindful of those wide eyes and what they were truly saying.
"Yes to both?" He wanted his answer clear.
Luke: It was a consideration Luke would be immensely grateful for later on. The fact that Q gave his comfort such priority and took such care with his trust made Luke treasure him that much more. No one had ever had a better boyfriend, real or pretend.
Another nod. "Yes to both."
Q: One more kiss, one more gentle, loving, slow kiss before turning around, exposed, to Tane Lukela.
"He wants your hands on me."
Tane/Luke: That one kiss was all it took to have Luke practically melting in Q's arms, and have Tane's heart melting along with him.
He gave a single nod before shutting off the stove and washing his hands. When he approached, he did so slowly, waiting for Luke's go ahead before closing the rest of the distance.
Q: Q watched his approach and wanted to laugh. He was so damn cautious. As cute as it was, he could bet it was appreciated by the beautiful nude man beside him.
"I think you're too clothed, but that's my opinion," he grinned.
Tane/Luke: It absolutely was; as was Q's opinion on Tane's current state. Appreciated and shared.
Tane chuckled softly. "Is it now? Then I better do something about that." Starting with his shirt. It was pulled up and over his head, tossed onto the coffee table. "Naked enough yet, gorgeous?"
Q: "You tell him when to stop, Luke. I sure enjoy the fucking view." Goddamn eye candy is what Big T was.
Tane/Luke: Eye candy was right. Luke didn't think people who looked like Tane existed in real life, yet here they were.
All it took was a glance to Tane's belt and off it came.
Tane was hyper-focused on this tiny blond lawyer, you see. Everywhere those eyes went was exposed to his view.
Shoes and socks followed the belt, then his jeans....and then his boxer briefs.
Q: Q leaned back and watched their silent exchange, marveled at their living Adonis and proceeded to touch himself with gusto. In that moment, life was completely and utterly perfect.
………………………………………………………………………
Rohan: To an onlooker, it would be astounding that Rohan managed to move so much while moving so little. MJ was being explored to both their hearts' content all without being denied the safety and comfort of Rohan's embrace.
He wanted his vampire to be delirious with pleasure, to feel nothing but a warm glow as Rohan made love to him. And this was most certainly making love.
While his lips delivered an onslaught of kisses, his hands eased and explored. Rohan wanted MJ to get accustomed to not only his touch, but being touched in all those lovely intimate places he had yet to explore and learn. The length of him was traced with feather light strokes, his sac cupped with the gentlest pressure.
MJ: The warmth of those hands was almost too much for his pale cold skin. The intimate fondling caused shivers up his spine and into his lungs. Another first.
"You're wearin' too much," he purred.
Rohan: "By all means," he whispered, peppering kisses along MJ's chest. "Feel free to rid me of all this cumbersome fabric."
MJ: With pleasure, he thought. Sitting up, he began with the belt, ripping one of the belt loops and sending it flying across the room. His short trimmed nails lightly raked over his hip. He continued with the jeans, wishing he could breathe life and celebrate being with this man the way he deserved.
"D'ya...love me?"
Rohan: Rohan laughed softly as his belt went flying, watching to make sure it didn't hit (and break) anything valuable.
The laugh was short-lived, however, soon replaced with a fond smile and appreciative hum. He adored those cool hands and the man they belonged to. Surely MJ would be able to see it in his eyes. And if he couldn't, Rohan's kisses and murmured endearments should show him.
"Yes, puiule," he whispered against his vampire's lips. "I love you." If his declaration halted things in their tracks so be it. MJ needed to hear the words.
MJ: His vampire - his? - stared up at the witch with blank expression. The expectation had been succeeded by truth. Had he breath to lose it would have vacated.
"I... You..."
Rohan: He smiled, kissed him again. "I love you, MJ." Another kiss. "I love you."
MJ: "Thanks." The realization of his reply caused a headache like cringe. "Not that. The fuck would I say that - I...I...love ya, too."
Rohan: That just made his smile grow more. It was such an MJ response, and that made his heart just as happy as the 'I love you, too'.
Rohan held MJ close, hands briefly abandoned his vampire's groin to hold him properly and drown him in kisses. This was a beautiful moment; it had to be savored. "I love you so much," he whispered.
MJ: "Alright, alright," he laughed. "Don't make it all mushy. We...We got love. So, back t'sex, right?" Oh no. Sex with...romance? Love? More emotional and tender than any night before.
"I shoulda asked after ya fucked me."
Rohan: Rohan gave him one more kiss, just to make really sure his vampire knew how much he was loved.
"Whether I said it aloud first or not, the sex would've been emotional. You would've been able to feel my love even if you didn't hear it."
MJ: "S'why I asked," he said softly. "Just had a feelin'. You're too sweet t'me, old man."
Rohan: "I'm exactly as sweet as I'm meant to be. And you, are very intuitive." Maybe just one more kiss.
"Do you still want to...?" It was fine if he didn't. There had been a lot of emotional intensity today.
MJ: One more? They would have many. "Yeah. Yeah, of course." Of course he said. What the fuck are you doing, his mind exclaimed.
Rohan: If MJ wanted many, there would be many, along with all the loving touches Rohan's two hands were capable of.
"Are you sure? We don't have to. I know it's a lot."
MJ: "If ya keep sayin' that I'll never go through with it," he laughed.
Rohan: "Nothing wrong with that, puiule," he said with a soft smile, letting his hands roam below MJ's waist again. "Promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop or slow down." He kissed his vampire's shoulder. "Your comfort is the most important thing." A kiss to his chest as his hand gently cupped MJ's sac. "Your comfort and your pleasure."
MJ: MJ swallowed and licked his lips. Somehow he'd forgotten what that felt like. He placed his hand over Rohan's wrist. Closer. Harder.
"I'm fine. Keep doin' that."
Rohan: Rohan obligingly increased the pressure, massaging more firmly, occasionally stroking MJ's length from base to tip and back down to his scrotum.
MJ: Blood had to be willed between his legs. The act nearly took him from the scene, but the witch's lips fueled him. Softly, he hummed.
Rohan: Rohan smiled against his vampire's lips, giving him an approving and gentle squeeze.
"That's it, puiule. You're doing so well." His lips began to migrate lower. "So beautiful."
MJ: That feminine sensation again. He shivered, brought his hands to Rohan's hair and squeezed. So lucky, he thought. So unworthy. Tonight, this moment, this was for Rohan. Giving in to his nature was an indulgence.
"What d'ya wanna do t'me?"
Rohan: "Love you," Rohan said simply, kissing just below MJ's navel. Tonight his vampire was going to be positively worshipped and thoroughly pleasured.
A soft, open-mouthed kiss was placed on the tip of MJ's cock. "All of you."
MJ: Oh. More familiar. Not quite sensational, but the mere idea of Rohan's mouth against him was enough for the butterflies to flap their wings.
"Love ya, too. I wanna taste ya. Let me taste ya."
Rohan: "Of course you can," he purred, nuzzling and kissing MJ's scrotum. "Where do you want to taste, puiule?"
MJ: "Sit on my face, Ro. We can have each other."
Rohan: "Mmm, I like the sound of that." He liked it very much.
He leaned up to give MJ a proper kiss before straddling him and adjusting positions, making sure MJ was comfortable before continuing his exploration and letting his vampire explore.
MJ: His mind wandered to the first time he had ever kissed someone. To the warmth of their lips. The sloppy urgency. The fumbling hands which followed. None of which felt present tonight. Every move Rohan ever made was deliberate. He was beautiful and mature. Even now, with his body for the taking. He was brought into his mouth, tasted and played with, with two uncertain hands.
Rohan: MJ was immediately rewarded with a soft moan. It didn't matter how uncertain his hands were; Rohan loved their touch, loved his vampire's mouth's attention. And he wasn't shy about making his pleasure or his approval known, and he definitely wasn't shy about lavishing every single inch of MJ's groin with affection.
He kissed and tasted his cock and his sac and his thighs, lips gentle and thorough. "Beautiful," Rohan murmured to himself, pressing a kiss to MJ's abdomen as he petted over his entrance.
MJ: Fuck. This was Rohan Delca. He might as well be a prince, or an angel. The man was meant to be worshipped. He was so elegant and intelligent and yet somehow tolerant and patient - didn't he grow tired of being so wholesome? Somehow this man loved him. He would never deserve him.
Which was motivation in his attempt to offer himself as one of the druid's best experiences. He kissed every available inch of perfect skin and massaged firm muscle.
Oh. His legs spread submissively. More touches, please. Invade me at your will. Love me with your fingers and mouth.
Rohan: That was precisely what Rohan intended to do. The word 'beautiful' played on a loop over and over in his head as he reached for the lube and generously coated one finger, never ceasing his lavish kisses and warm little nuzzles against MJ's cock.
He petted over his vampire's entrance again with his now prepped finger, circling it slowly, getting it nice and wet before he even thought of breaching it, however slightly. At first, of course. He wanted MJ to get used to the touch and the feeling of being penetrated before he took things further. He'd work slowly and carefully, letting MJ control the pace while making sure every moment of the process was as pleasurable as possible.
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fanfiction-fanfriction · 7 years ago
Text
The History Textbooks (Will Write About Our Love)
Pairing: Stucky, Background Relationships Rating: E Words: 10716 Summary: Bucky was a smart guy, he got into SHIELD College after all, and scholarship nonetheless. In his second year there he decided to take an American History class as part of the breadth requirement. He should know American history, he is American. He was expecting the cut and dry method of history, so dry that it could probably preserve meat for the winter. But, he wasn’t expecting a blonde with a contagious laugh, the habit of rambling about things he is passionate about, and that looked so amazing in blue button ups. His name is Steve Rogers, new professor of American history and Bucky is so fucked.
A/N: Shout out to @stevestuckyonbucky who spent like three days with me planning this monster of a fic out! I want to apologize for anyone who reads this on Tumblr, I send my condolences. 
Ao3 Mirror
(please leave comments, I live for them)
Bucky was a smart guy, after all he did get into SHIELD College on a scholarship, and for mechanical engineering nonetheless. That’s no small feat even for a smart guy like Bucky.
It was his second year, it was a warm September when he stepped into the small classroom in the back of one of the Humanities Wing of the school.
He had to take a course outside of his degree, what they call a ‘breadth requirement’, it forces students to go out and ‘try new things’ as an overly excited grad student put it during orientation. Bucky put off on it until Sam told him that if he did all of those requirements in his last year, it would probably sink his GPA.  
So he took his luck with an American history course that focused on eighteen seventy-seven to present day, he knew enough about America, he is American after all. He was expecting for it to be dry, dated, important figures and events.
But, he wasn’t expecting this.
He walked into class to find a blonde man at the front, wearing thick rimmed glasses and a navy blue button up shirt. His hair looked tousled like he had been running his hand through it just moments prior.
He was writing on the large chalkboard, a long line of white chalk cut horizontally through the board with dates being listed in blue chalk and the important events written in pink. Overtop of it was various drawings. From the far right was muskets, the hat of a union soldier and chains being broken. This trend of iconography through the most important events including a sign that read, “I Am A Man” during the Civil Rights Era to the ribbon associated with the AIDS epidemic of the eighties (done in pink chalk as that looked like all that was available), and then at the far end, a drawing of the American flag with the question, “Where do we go from here?”.
“Wow.”
The man looked up, “Hi, I’m Steve Rogers. I’m your professor for the semester.” His gaze wandered to the clock close by, “You’re a bit early, but you can take a seat.”
“Did you draw this?” Bucky asked as he took another step inside.
Steve wiped his brow with the palm of his head, leaving behind some chalk residue, “It’s no big deal.”
“It looks like a big deal.” He looked back at Steve, “Oh you have a little something.” He gestured to his forehead.
“Oh shit.” Steve wiped his forehead with his clean hand, “Thanks Mr?”
“Barnes, James Barnes. You can call me Bucky, everyone does.”
“Alright there Bucky, take any seat you like, your classmates should be showing up soon.” He smiled, it made Buck's face suddenly feel warm.
This was going to be fun.
A few girls walked in and said hi to Bucky, their flirty skirts and seductive eyes didn’t stray the young man from looking at Steve with his own glances. He gave them a slight wave and a “hey” that resembled more a sigh than anything.
The class started soon after and Steve went through the syllabus.
“Alright, there will not be a midterm.” There was a collective sigh in the class, “But three times this semester I will do a notebook check which will count for your participation marks, and two quizzes that’ll make up part of the mark that would have gone to a mid term plus two papers.” Then there was a groan.
“I know, I know, but it'll be spread out. I won’t be that professor who pushes everything till the last minute. My office hours and listed on the syllabus and you can always send me an email. That includes sending me rough drafts of you papers.” He wrote his email on the board ‘[email protected]’, “I’ll try to get back to you within twenty four hours.”
Bucky quickly wrote it down despite it being on the sheet in front of him. He couldn’t wrap his head around how this professor made him feel. He wasn’t like the cranky, bitter, old professors that are only here because of tenure, he was excited with a smallest tint of nervousness.
He didn’t know how confident Steve could have gotten until he opened his mouth to recap the Civil war. It was if what he was teaching was in his veins instead of blood, able to pull up maps, artistic renditions and charts. Everything was so organized because he knew this content so well, and he looked amazing doing it. The ripple of muscles under that blue button up, how his eyes were framed by those glasses and his smile that shined through while he spoke.
Before Bucky could blink the two hours were over, and Steve said, “Alright, please remember to pick up Eric Foner’s book. It’s one of the best contemporary history textbooks out there and it’s on seventy dollars so it’s a steal.” The blonde gave a small laugh, he looked a bit more nervous now, as if he used all his confidence in his two hours lecture.
Everyone piled out, but Bucky took his time packing away his belongings, he maintained eye contact with Steve.
“Mr. Barnes, what can I help you with?”
Bucky shrugged, “Nope, just getting my things, you know you can call me Bucky.”
Steve looked away for a moment to turn off the computer, “You’ve been staring at me since class ended, do you have a question about the syllabus?”
“Just curious.”
“About what?”
“About you, you spent most of the lesson going on about how art was depicted in the Civil War, isn’t the first class supposed to be an introduction, that’s why my friend, Sam isn’t here.”
Steve shook his head, “The best way to enjoy history is to just jump right in. It’s like looking at a painting, there is no preface for it, any language to describe it is an after thought. That’s why I’m here almost every day, to allow students to have those afterthoughts with me.” He looked up, “Also, tell your friend Sam that he should be coming to every class.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything on the syllabus, tell him to find it on his own.” Bucky packed away the rest of his belongings and laughed, “Do we have to call you Steve? Isn’t that a little informal?”
Steve chuckled, “Well, I don’t have a Doctorate and Mr. Rogers makes me sound much older than I am, as you can see I don’t wear sweater vests and asked you to be my neighbour.”
The laugh warmed Bucky, “I guess that makes sense.” He took one last look at Steve’s form, how the first few buttons of the man’s shirt was undone, exposing just the tiniest bit of muscle.
He walked out of class, closed the door behind him. He wanted Steve Rogers.
Shit.
-
He ended up not giving Sam the syllabus, keeping to his promise. He chose to wear a tighter shirt to class the following week.When the two walked in the following week, Sam muttered, “I can see why you keep talking him up like he is some sort of god.” Which earned him a jab in the side from Bucky and forced to sit in the front with his friend.
Steve gave Bucky a once over look, his cheeks stung a little red before he began the class,  “Alright, class. Last week was just a warm up. If you want to focus on the Civil War, please next semester take the class with professor Stark, I know, the man is in the sciences, but he can tell you all about the Civil War and everything that lead up to it. He likes to give different perspectives and playing devil’s advocate, but it’s a good learning experience. There’s debates and group projects, everything. However if you do take part in the debate, people have fought in the parking lot over it.” Steve finished writing on the board the course code.
Steve turned around, “Last week we discussed the beginnings of reconstruction and looked at Eric Foner’s book which I hope you had the chance to pick up. We will be discussing America’s Gilded Age. Now can anyone tell me where this term comes from?”
Bucky shot up his hand, “Mark Twain’s work.”
Steve nodded his head before he took down the screen and started up the computer to project the lecture slides, “Yes, it came from Mark Twain, I am going to assume you know who he is.” The first slide of the power point is the infamous portrait of him.
Steve continued, “But today we will be focusing more on what the gilded Age really meant in terms of American society rather than through the lens of a man who really loved cats.” The class gave a small laugh, “I don’t dislike Twain, but if you want to talk about him more there are enough English classes to give you that.”
Sam poked Buck's arm, “Hey man, should we be taking notes?”
Bucky nodded his head, “He does notebook checks.”
Sam gave him a confused look, “We are adults.”
“Does it look like anyone in this twelve person class is really going to be participating in a ten a.m. lecture?”
“Shit.” Sam grumbled before taking out his notebook and a pen from the bottom of his bag.
“This age last from the last eighteen seventies to around nineteen hundred and is often characterized by its corruption and the growth of capitalist greed, as we see in this depiction.” He clicked to the next slide with a satirical comic highlight the greed of factory owners by depicted tired workers carrying their bosses onto the shore.
“However in the more quote unquote ‘art world’ it was overlapping with the impressionist movement, both started around the same time. We get artists like James Abbott McNeill Whistler and his painting ‘The Yellow Room’. Art does hold an important role in American society, that without it we would not have the basis of the traditional sense of culture. Impressionism was and still is the same across all borders, it was a bold approach to capture the emotion of a scene. It was characterized by relatively small, thin, yet visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on accurate depiction of light in its changing qualities. It was often accentuating the effects of the passage of time. It focused on ordinary subject matter, inclusion of movement as a crucial element of human perception and experience, and unusual visual angles.” He took a moment to scan the class, before he rolled up his sleeves. He gave a small cough, “Sorry. Anyway back on topic. I won’t be testing you on the role of art in american history, but I find it helpful to view it through a visual lens and how what we perceive as American culture is actually a mix bag of many different cultures, art, ways of life, and so on. And that’s  good thing.”
Bucky kept staring at him with complete fascination. He watched the blonde wield the same power as he began to describe how the impressionist movement affected American culture and rounded back to the historical significance of the gilded age.
He was broken from his thoughts when Sam leaned over and whispered, “Do you think he’s off topic.”
Bucky shrugged, “Don’t know, he’s the professional here.”
After class, Sam asked a few questions about what happened last week, using the “I wasn’t feeling too well” excuse while Bucky stood close by.
When Sam finished, he watched Bucky talk with Steve.
“I found that really interesting, how the laws targeted immigrants from very specific countries. I also really liked how you used those illustrations to really highlight those issues and the feelings at the time. ” Bucky got a little closer, “I guess public school is really good at hiding that.”
“Well, I guess that’s my job then. I- um- well I find it important to document the impact of immigrants, my mother was one and I find it helpful for students to have a connection to the stories and facts they are reading. I tend to look at an immigrant narrative and think of my mother, how given the right opportunity she was able to thrive.”
“Where was your mom from?”
“Ireland.”
“So I guess you can hold your liquor then.” Bucky winked.  
Sam knew Buck's tactics like the back of his hand, he knew how he’d go in and sweet talk, but this wasn’t some guy at the bar, it was their professor.
“Bucky, we have to meet up with Nat, remember we have to be guinea pigs for her psychology assignment.”
“See you later, sir.” Bucky gave Steve a smile before he was practically dragged out of the room by his annoyed friend.
Once outside the class, Bucky made a noise that could be compared to a disappointed dog, “Oh come on, Sam.”
“No, bad Bucky, bad. No flirting with the professor.”
“Can I a little bit?”
“No, Bucky, this is a professor, a man who went to school to teach.”
Bucky stopped him right there, “He was in the army and got this job soon after being discharged.”
Sam gave him a concerned look, “How do you know this? How much trouble did you get into last week?”
Bucky shrugged as they went down the stairs to the main quad, “Nat knows a guy, who knows a guy, who once knew a guy.”
That was code for Natasha got into the system files again. Sam wondered how much Bucky paid Natasha to do that, or what he offered in return, probably some of that nice vodka that they sell in that fancy store off campus.
They found her sitting with her textbook by the steps that lead from the main quad to the science wing.
“Hey Nat!” Sam called which caused her to look up.
“Hey!” She called back before she shut her book and stood up.
They met in the middle of the quad and Bucky handed her the bottle of the nice vodka from that fancy store off campus. Sam was right in his assumption and was proud of that.
“You’re taking bribes now?”
“When wasn’t I taking bribes?” Natasha responded as she put the bottle in her knapsack, “Now come on you two, I have to ask you a bunch of questions about stress during the early months of the semester.”
After they ran through the questions they all got beers at the bar down the road, called “Fossil”. It was a bit grimey around the corners especially around the windows, not the kind of place someone would take a date, but it was cheap and usually had pints on the cheap.
“So about this Steve Rogers guy.” Natasha stated.
Sam rolled his eyes, “He’s like a love sick puppy.”
“I’m trying to play it cool.” Bucky argued as he playfully punched his friend in the arm.
“So try to make a move, he can’t fail you if you hit on him. Plus, it’s a little cute.” Natasha suggested a smile played at his lips.
“Nat, stop encouraging him.”
“Sam, come on, let the guy dream. Who knows maybe you’ll be the number one bachelor on campus if he gets Mr. Hot For Teacher.”
Bucky hid his face, “Don’t call him that.”
“How about Mr. America?” Nat suggested, “Anyway, Sam you’ll be the most eligible bachelor on campus, that title should bring some people willing to throw bird seed in the park with you.”
Sam pointed out, “We all know I got my sights on one person, so it isn’t that most of the female and a large percent of the male population wants him that is the problem.”
Bucky and Nat said in unison, “T’Challa.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Thank for telling everyone in the bar about it.” He gestured over his shoulder to the about four people in the bar, “It’s just, why can’t you go for the people who want you?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “He’s fascinating, I want to know everything. I want to know him and I want him to know me. I like spending time with him and I want to know how far down that blush goes.”
“So, you wanna get him naked and show him a good time?” Natasha asked.
“No there would be cuddling afterwards.”
Natasha nudged him in the side, “You’re getting soft.”
“Shut up.” Bucky drank his beer and tried to come up with a plan to make a move.
-
Bucky made his first move the week after, after he convinced Sam to let him flirt with Steve and ask questions after class.
In exchange Bucky would help Sam gain the courage to talk to T’Challa. Sam couldn’t get a good understanding of him hence it made him nervous, but not nervous enough to ask for Natasha’s hacking assistance, unlike some people.
After class, Sam shot Bucky a look as he left the classroom. He wasn’t entirely happy, but this was the happiest Bucky had looked in a long time. He just didn’t want his best friend to get in trouble, but he had to remind himself that he doesn’t have to take the wheel. If Bucky wanted to fuck Steve that badly, that’s his choice.
“I assume you have more questions, Bucky.” Steve said as he packed his belongings away. He made quick eye contact with Bucky before he turned off his laptop.
“Well, just a few. I know that the next class has to get in here, so let me walk you to your office.” Bucky grinned as he picked up his bag. He must have sounded like a high schooler asking a girl to walk her to her locker, but he couldn’t help it.
“Yeah sure.” Steve pushed up his glasses and put his bag over his shoulder, “So what questions do you have?”
They both exited the classroom and Bucky began to ask, “Well why exactly was the city such a central element in progressive America? Also how did labour and women’s movements challenge the nineteenth century meanings of American freedom?”
“Getting ready for the first paper.” Steve chuckled, “Well.” He began to give an explanation, citing the textbook as a good source to narrow down the idea.
Bucky watched his talk, the way his mouth moved. How he smiled when he cracked a small joke or referenced an art movement during this time period. He watched how his cheeks got warm and moved his glasses back up his face every once in awhile.
He was so enamoured that he didn’t even notice the girls that walked the opposite direction greeting him, he only noticed because Steve gave them a small wave, but Bucky didn’t mind with them.
He nodded along to what Steve had to say and piped in when he could, he did do all the readings after all. He enjoyed hearing what his professor had to say, he looked so happy and in turn that made Bucky happy. It was a warmth that blossomed in his chest and melted through his veins like syrup.
When they got to his office, Steve looked at his watch and his eyes went wide, “Oh shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’d let you stay, but I have to go to a meeting. I realize that emails won’t cut it, here’s my cell number.” Steve quickly got out a shred of paper and a pen from his pocket. He quickly wrote down my phone number, “If you have any questions or concerns or if you’re having issues in general let me know. You’re a good guy, Bucky and college can be hard for everyone.” He gave Bucky a smile
Bucky dubbed the ‘All American Smile’, it was pure, innocent and made him want to salute it. The other man nodded his head, “Yeah, sure, of course. Holy shit, thank you.” He grabbed the piece of paper from Steve.
“Have a good rest of your week, I hope to see the outline of your paper. Remember to tell Wilson that the first notebook check is coming up at the end of the month.” Then walked away from Bucky to the faculty wing of the building.
Buck couldn’t help but have a little pep in his step. He raced back to meet up with Sam at the library to show him what got from Steve, a ten digit phone number that allowed him to talk to Steve anytime. It couldn’t get better than this.
He of course texted Steve that night.
To Steve: [7:05 pm] Hey, it’s me, Bucky. I was wondering how you were doing
He got a response almost instantly.
To Bucky: [7:05 pm] Enjoying the last little bit of time I have before assignments get handed in
To Bucky: [7:06 pm] The football game on television, The New York Giants are playing.
Bucky smiled to himself as he turned on the radio in his dorm to find the sports channel, he wasn’t able to have a television as the room was too cramped, but he made do with the small battery powered radio that he bought at a garage sale before moving in.
To Steve: [7:07 pm] Fox Sports right?
To Bucky: [7:08 pm] Why, are you watching?
To Steve: [7:08 pm] Yeah, New England just got a touchdown.
To Bucky: [7:08 pm] Don’t remind me :(
Bucky laughed as he put the radio closer to him and took out his textbooks from under the bed. They continued to text one another throughout the game, most of the time not even talking about the game unless the Giants got a touchdown, while Bucky sat on his bed with his textbooks scattered across it as he began to do his assignments for his other classes. Once he got through his work and the game ended, he was going to call Sam about this.
They continued to talk long after the game ended, small casual things about home, interests, the sci-fi novel that Bucky was attempting to get through but had to stop due to school work.
To Bucky: [1:04 am] Goodnight, good luck on your project for that engineering class, I hope the work for my class isn’t interfering with your other assignments, and I don’t mean those old garage sale pulp books, haha.
To Steve: [1:04 am] Don’t worry, I’m a student, I could bullshit my way out of a paper bag.
To Bucky [1:04 am] That’s not very assuring, I am an educator, specifically your educator, remember?
To Steve [1:04 am] Don’t worry, I never bullshit your class. You make it too interesting to bullshit :)
On the other end of the line, in a small apartment close to campus. Steve lied in bed with the small television blaring in front of the bed, turned to his side and faced his phone while his golden retriever, Scamp, get comfortable on the other side.
Steve blushed at the recent text, the compliment that was propped up as a joke made his face feel warm and his heart stagger in pace, a small uptick for a moment.
He thought about the last text when he put his phone down and turned to face the other direction, “Hey Scamp.”
The dog’s ears perked up at the mention of his name.
“That student, Bucky, he wouldn’t have a crush on me, would he?”
Scamp made a noise and curled up onto the bed. Steve rolled over his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. He felt a twitch under his skin, in his fingers to reach for his phone again and send one last text, to be the last text Bucky read before bed.
Did he want Bucky to have feelings for him? Was he really that gone for the student with the long hair and the stunning grey eyes. The realization began to bubble up in his chest, that Bucky wasn’t being nice, he wanted Steve. But Steve was questioning if he wanted to be with the other man and if so, how badly?
Steve reached down and petted along Scamp’s fur before he laid back down and fell asleep.
-
Bucky felt so close to Steve's body, his arms were loosely around Steve’s waist as he kissed up along his back. The kisses were soft, wet marks across the other man’s pale shoulders and the muscular expanse of his back.
It made Steve shiver and his cock jolt to full mass. Steve sighed dreamily, “Bucky.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Don’t wear it out.” There was another kiss placed on the junction between his shoulder and neck, a sweet spot that always made the blonde squirm.
The mess of hands along his skin made Steve’s head feel full of a hazy lust, how they felt sliding up his chest, down his back, along the junction of his thighs, even as it brushed up against more sensitive areas, the places that gave him goosebumps.
“You ready?” Steve questioned as he looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, are you ready?” Bucky smiled, that charming smile that made Steve want to groan but also kiss him silly.
He got a good look at Bucky and saw the toned muscle that poorly hid under those tight shirts he wore to every class, how he’d bend over and pick things up once in awhile that drove Steve up the wall out of pure want and need for the other man.
“I’ve been ready for this for a while now.” The words tumbled out of Steve’s mouth as he buried his face deeper into his pillow. The soft cotton of the case felt good against his hot skin.
Bucky knew how to push his buttons. Wind him up like a toy and send him off, with those cute smiles and informed questions. He knew that he was just taking this course for a requirement, but he cared so much and even asked questions about the rambles Steve went on about art movements and their importance. Even to smaller points like brushstrokes and angles. He was so damn charming that the feeling of his hands along Steve’s skin sent his brain into overdrive as it clouded with lust. Like a fan trying to get rid of fog from a fog machine only to fail and become consumed by it.
“That’s good to hear.”, Bucky slowly slid into Steve and kept a steady hand on the bottom of Steve’s back. He gave it a soft pat as he fully inserted himself into the blonde.
Steve’s hole clenched around Bucky’s cock, it felt like heaven with every nerve ending coming alive, his whole body buzzed with want.
“I think I love you.” Bucky’s voice was close to Steve’s ear. Hot breath against hotter skin, the blonde was so flushed by their intimacy.
Bucky’s hand trailed down and brushed along his cock before he took a full grasp of it.
“You’re beautiful. I’m love with you.”
“I think I love you too.” Steve whispered.
Steve quickly woke up, the t-shirt he wore stuck to his body along with the blonde hair to his forehead. He felt painfully hard and it didn’t go away as he laid back down. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Everything felt so real and so good.
Fuck, he really was gone for James “Bucky” Barnes.
-
After class two weeks later, Bucky walked with Steve to his office again. Steve was reluctant at first, but realized that Bucky had some interesting questions and preferred to have the discussion in his own office where he wasn’t interrupting another class getting in. Steve thanked him for carrying his bag and took it from the other man. He took a look at how Buck's shirt fit across his chest, how nicely the fabric pulled across it.
“Hey, I was wondering if I could stick around. It’s been hard to find quiet places to work and I want to get started on this assignment.”
Steve unlocked the door to his office and said, “Fine by me, but you can’t look at the upcoming quiz, got it?” He attempted to give Bucky a stern look.
“Don’t worry, I won’t cheat.” Bucky flashed him a blinding smile before he followed Steve into the office.
Inside the office was rather spacious, with books that lined the bookshelf and canvases that rested against the wall.
“You’ve got some nice art there.”
Steve smiled, as he gave a quick look at Buck's ass before trailing up to the other man’s back, “I painted them myself, I haven’t had the time to hang them up yet. The first two are from my apartment window and the other two are from the park. I used to paint a lot more, but I’m just content with sketching now.”
“I’d love to see more of your work one day.” Bucky smiled as he put the canvases back in their proper place.
Steve blushed and put his bags by the door then closed the door behind him. He took out his folder labeled “Quiz #1” and placed it on the desk along with his laptop. He yawned before sitting down.
“So what are you studying anyway?”
“Engineering.” Bucky shrugged.
“And you’re taking a history class?” Steve looked away from his laptop to the student sitting in the chair across from him.
“I like you, you’re a really good professor.”
Steve looked down as he felt a blush forming on his face, “Oh, thank you.” He had to be professional about this.
After a half an hour passed of small chit-chat before there was a knock on the door, Steve got up and answered it. On the other side was Dr. Bruce Banner from the chemistry department.
“Oh, hey Bruce.” Steve smiled as he exited the office.
Bucky looked away from his textbook to overhear their conversation, the door was open so it wasn’t private.
“How is your first few weeks going?”
“Better than expected, I didn’t realize the classes were so small, printed out a hundred outlines before I even for my class list.” He chuckled.
“Well, if you don’t change anything you’ll eventually use all of them.” Bruce responded with a chuckle of his own, “Am I keeping you from anything?”
“I have a student in my office, I was thinking of maybe trying to see if I could get some lunch.”
Bucky leaned a little closer.
“I forgot it at home and I don’t want to take the time away from him, he’s a good student and I don’t want to deprive him of that.”
Bruce made a soft noise, “I can’t advise that considering-”
Steve shrugged, “Teaching is more important, these kids paid good money.”
“Kids? You’re not that much older than some of them.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean, why is tuition so expensive.”
“Not all of us got our education thanks to the military and grants.” Bruce responded, “Just take care of yourself Steve, I don’t want to find you in the clinic because you passed out.” He looked over Steve’s shoulder to Bucky, who quickly looked back down to his book, “Well, I’ll leave it to you, remember Steve, you might be strong, but some of those illnesses are still there.”
Steve returned and closed the door behind him, he sat back down at his desk and continued to go through the quiz questions.
Bucky needed to do something about that, he can’t let Steve starve like that! He felt this urge deep in his gut to provide for Steve, take care of him.
“Hey, Steve.” Bucky started.
Steve looked up, “Yeah.”
“Is it cool if I grab some lunch real quick?”
Steve nodded his head, “Go right ahead.” He gave Bucky a smile that made the other man’s heart leap.
When Bucky left, Steve covered his head with his hands. He had to be professional, he had an inkling that Bucky was hitting on him.
He knew the reputation that Bucky had, many people wanted him. They thought he was handsome, smart and a little mysterious, and Steve couldn’t disagree with that. Despite been nervous about having Bucky around, he actually enjoyed it. He was a straight A student that asked the right questions.
He realized that the sharp smiles, nice gestures and complimentary words were getting to Steve’s head, but the thing is that Steve didn’t mind, at least the emotional, irrational side of him didn’t.
Buck soon returned with not one burrito, but two in hand along with a drink and a small salad.
Steve looked at the food back to Bucky, “You sure do eat a lot, well I guess you must work out like what, eight times a day.” He chuckled. He swallowed hard for a moment when he got a good look at the curl of Bucky’s arm as he carried the food.
“Oh, this isn’t all for me. I got something for you, I didn’t know what you’d like so I stayed away from the spicy stuff.” He placed one of the burritos on the desk along with the bottle drink, “I overheard what you said to Doctor Banner about you forgetting lunch.”
Steve smiled and gave a nod of his head, “Thank you, I may have changed a lot since my time in the army, but I’m still in a few ways sick, so I appreciate this.”
Bucy acted surprised, “You were in the army?”
“I got discharged and ended up finishing my masters in history, Doctor Banner is the reason why I got the job, thought I’d make a good change for the faculty, considering I think most of the other history professors saw the German invasion of France.” He chuckled as he unwrapped the tin foil from the burrito.
Bucky chuckled along with him before he took a huge bite into the burrito, he kept an eye on Steve.
“Have you begun studying for you quiz yet, and made sure your notes are in order. They’re both next week.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already started, it’s covering everything before world war one right?”
“Yeah, we will be spending a few weeks on those two wars. Those were my specialties in school.” Steve looked away, slightly flustered.
“You know you sound really confident when you talk about.
“It’s like I forget how nervous I am, it’s like when blowing up a balloon, but eventually I deflate and I enjoy just having one on one conversations with students.” He shrugged before he bit into the burrito.
“Well, you’re doing a good job. Best class I have this semester.”
“Thank you, Bucky.”  Steve blushed and it really made Bucky want to know how far that blush went down.
When they finished lunch, Bucky said he had to get ready to go to work.
“Thank you visiting me, Bucky. I hope to hear from you soon.” Steve held up his phone, “I don’t think anyone has ever texted you as much as you have.”
Bucky broke out into a grin, “Well, I hope to continue my record.” Then walked away.
Steve closed his office door behind him, he think he might just be gone for Bucky.
-
Bucky found Natasha in the library without Sam.
“Where’s Sam?”
She looked up from her textbook, “Finally got the courage to talk to T’Challa after class, two of them are grabbing lunch.”
Bucky sat down beside Natasha, “I think I should ask Steve out.”
“You know Sam said that exact same thing to me, I’m glad you are all figuring your shit out.”
“I mean it.”
“Then what’s stopping you.”
“I’ve gone in too deep, I spend practically every office hours with him and it’s not even like we’re talking about history, he’s this artist, like he paints and draws and does all kinds of amazing work. And, it’s not like he’s hard on the eyes either, it’s like I want to congratulate him on his face.”
“Then take a chance, figure out your battle strategy and then congratulate him on his face.”
Bucky chuckled, “Thanks for the pep talk.” then sat across from  Natasha and began to text Steve about next week’s office hours.
To Steve: [3:30 pm] You have office hours next week?
To Bucky: [3:31 pm] Yep, same time, same place. See you then :)
-
The following Monday came by and everyone handed in their notebooks for marks and were handed the quiz in return.
Bucky spent the last week coming up with his ‘battle strategy’ and decided to be bold about it, it wasn’t like him to beat around the bush so why do it when asking Steve out.
He finished his quiz quite quickly, but remained at his seat. He began to doodle along the edges of the page. He couldn’t get how beautiful Steve’s artwork was, beautiful work for a beautiful man Bucky thought. When he took notes in class he’d have his own little sketches, he was a bit hesitant at first to hand in his notebook, but he managed to incorporate it into plan.
Steve sat up at the front, making quick work to go through each of these notebooks. Anyone who had more than one page of writing would get a student full marks.
For a moment he realized that he didn’t have to really go through Bucky’s notebook, but for appearances sake went through it anyway. He noticed that one of the pages had a pretty well done sketch of himself, even getting the details of his hair and glasses right.
Bucky did have feelings for him! He closed the notebook quickly and gave him the extra marks. He looked up to the other man to find those grey eyes staring back at him. He gave him a smile as he felt his pulse racing under his skin.
Once he went through the books he had some time, he took out his own sketchbook and began to do his own doodling once he saw Bucky not looking at him.
They kept up the routine of Bucky going to his office. Steve brought in leftover Chinese food for the two of them as a way to thank him for last week. He only mentioned it after the quiz so Bucky could keep focused on the task.
He’d was now keenly aware of the feelings that Bucky had for him, and he knows his own feelings for the other man. But, he wasn’t expecting for it to be brought up so quickly.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date with me?” Bucky asked trying to capture a casual tone.
Steve took a forkful of the greasy noodles and sighed, “Bucky, I can’t say yes.”
“But why, we make such a good team, we have fun together, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”  Bucky gave his award winning grin. It made Steve’s knees a little weak, but he had to be firm on this.
He didn’t want to Bucky’s academic success riding on the fact that they were together and he didn’t want to lose his job.
He gestured the fork to Bucky, “How about this, you ace the second quiz and the finals and I’ll take you out to dinner.”
Bucky leaned a little closer, “You mean it?”
Steve nodded his head, “It’s good to give students a little motivation.” He was totally gone for James Barnes, and honestly if they can make it through the rest of the semester he’ll be okay with being with him. That didn’t discount any teasing. They couldn’t make out on campus, but he could give Bucky a little nudge to do well.
And thus began the devilish streak that Bucky would have never suspected this hot blonde of a  history professor to have.
-
To Bucky: [11:45 am] Two weeks till finals. You nervous?
To Steve [11:47 am] Nope, just busy.
To Bucky [11:47 am] Can I send you something?
To Steve [11:47 am] Sure
To Bucky [11:50 am] (Photo attachment sent)
This had been going on for a few weeks, Bucky was so used to the timid, blushing professor he wasn’t expecting the little devil that was inside of him. It started out with cute little text messages, giving him motivation to do well on his papers, assignments, quizzes and everything. Usually countdowns made him nervous, but they were always attached with a photo, the closer time came, the more suggestive they were.
Bucky quickly opened the message to find a photo of Steve, lounging on his couch on his stomach, wearing just his boxers, the shot showed his half smile, bareback and, covered ass.
Bucky was so fucked.
He never thought he could masturbate or study as hard and as frequently as he did.
He quickly got another photo, this time Steve stood in his underwear, in the full length mirror in his apartment. He can see every muscle on Steve’s body, how good the blonde looked.
Bucky remembered when Steve was nervous about sending photos, until Bucky sent some of himself with the text, ‘if we go down, we go down together. I’d rather lose my scholarship then lose out on dating you’, and ever since then it had been nothing but teasing from Steve.
To Steve [12:00 pm] I think I’ve created a monster
To Bucky [12:00 pm] What do you mean?
To Steve [12:01 pm] I mean that I thought you were some cute professor, I didn’t know you were some kinky fucker
To Bucky [12:01 pm] Well, I can’t wait to take you out somewhere nice, to see you again. As you said, if we go down, we go together. I think that was the last straw.
To Bucky [12:01 pm] I really like you, and I want you. I Haven’t been with anyone in a long time.
To Bucky [12:02 pm] (Photo attachment Sent) I want you, Bucky, and I can’t wait to say that to your face.
The photo wasn’t one in a sexual nature, it was of Steve sitting at his desk, chewing on the edge of a pen with his glasses on, he looked like he was working now. Yet, the photo was still arousing to Bucky as he laid out on his shitty bed, cock hard in his sweatpants. He pulled down the sweatpants and quickly took a picture of his hard cock with the caption, ‘two more weeks until I ruin you with this, then you can tell me how much you love me to my face.’
To Bucky [12:05 pm] Can’t wait till the final exam, I hope you can ace it ;)
-
The day of the final exam came, end of the semester. Somehow, someway Bucky had been able to pull of doing well not only in Steve’s class, but also in all of his others. Sam joked that he did have a habit of thinking with his cock.
He wanted Steve so badly, the teasing and the texts, along with the photos were driving him up the wall, he had two folders on his computer filled with photos that Steve sent him. He was still surprised by how once Steve got into it, he really got into it.
“Alright, class. I am so thankful for having you this semester and I hope you continue your journey in the humanities or whatever field you are in. I am proud of you and I know you’ll do great on the exam. You’ll have two hours to complete it, starting… Now.” He hit the time for two hours and every began to frantically write on the paper.
Within the first hour a few people had already began to hand in their exams and file out, the look on their faces told them that they had given up, but Bucky wasn’t giving up just yet. He had this, it’s just that getting an A on an exam takes time.
Bucky couldn't help but let his mind wander when he’d occasionally look up at Steve. Last night he sent Bucky a picture of him in a jockstrap and Bucky thought he’d never orgasm again after how hard he finished when he masturbated to that photo.
Bucky swallowed hard and scratched at his collar as he circled another multiple choice answer that asked him about the main social movements of the nineteen sixties.
He knew he had to focus, but he couldn’t help it. Steve looked so good even with his head buried in his phone. How soft his hair looked, how kissable his lips were, how easily he could wrap his arms around the blonde's waist. He was a dream come true and he could only make it a reality if he aces the exam. But he knew he was getting a treat after he finished the exam, just a little taste of the blonde and that gave him motivation to finish a little faster.
He finished in an hour and forty minutes. A grin plastered on his face as he wrote down the last sentence.
Bucky slammed the test down on the front desk loud enough that most of the students looked up. He gave Steve a stern look, he mouthed, “Your office.” Before he went back to his seat to grab his pencil and school ID. He picked up his bag from the front and left to Steve’s office.
Steve felt flustered as he went back to mindlessly examining his papers, Bucky really didn’t mean that right?
-
When he walked into his office after the exam was finished, he found Bucky in tight red and black briefs and socks. His feet propped up on top of his desk as he gazed down at leatherbound book. He looked up and smiled, “Hello, sir.”
“Bucky, why do you have no clothes on. I thought you were joking.”
“Nope, I’m here to finally take you.” Bucky said nonchalantly as he turned the page, attention back on the book.
“Bucky, you should probably buy me a drink first.” He gave a slight tease, still surprised by seeing his very attractive student with such little clothes on. He quickly closed the door and locked it.
Bucky reached down, his gaze back on the book, and held up a bottle of wine from the corner store.
Steve rolled his eyes, “Are my lines really that predictable.”
“Not really, things like this took me off guard.” Bucky turned the book to face Steve.
It was Steve’s sketchbook.
“You’ve been thinking about me.” Bucky smirked as he dragged a finger across one of the sketches of himself that littered the page.
Steve blushed, it ran down his neck and across his chest, Bucky could only imagine how far it spread. The blonde teacher stammered, “It’s not like…” He sighed, “Yes I have been thinking about you, I’m pretty sure the hundreds of text messages made that clear. But, I’d like to wine and dine with you before I get in your pants.”
“Oh come on, sir, you promised.”
“I promised a date, not sex.” Steve put his belongings down by the floor.
Bucky put the bottle back down on the floor and got up, “You’ve been teasing me for weeks now. We both want it, why not live a little.” He rounded the desk and backed Steve up against it.
“Fine, but I’m in charge.” Steve tried to establish.
Bucky ignored him and pressed a filthy kiss against his lips, caging the blonde against the desk.
Steve trembled with desire and from holding back for so long. He tried again as he gazed down at Bucky’s wet lips, “I’m… I’m in charge.”
Bucky chuckled and grabbed a hold of Steve’s blue shirt and pulled him into another kiss. Bucky was in charge this afternoon.
Steve whimpered and melted, he was immediately ready to give up any chance at dominating the situation. He was putty in Bucky’s strong, calloused, amazing hands. The kind of hands that were an artist’s wet dream and thankfully for Steve he was an artist.
“Up on the desk, Steve.” Bucky purred.
Steve made quick work of getting things off of the desk so he could lean over it.
Bucky licked his lips at the display of Steve’s ass.How round it looked in this tight dress pants, he had taken a liking to the look of the blonde’s ass, he had seen it enough times clothed or partially clothed to develop a taste for it and wanted to see more.
“Pants off, baby.” Bucky went to his bag and dug around for the lube and condom he put in there, thank you on health services.
Steve groaned at the nickname, it had been a long while since someone called him that with such affection. He made quick work of his belt, tossed it onto his chair, and kept his underwear and dress pants on one ankle. He spread his legs out and looked over his shoulder.
“Shirt too, I want to see how far that blush goes.” Bucky chuckled as he pulled off his underwear. He lubed up his fingers
Steve groaned as he stood up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt before he folded it neatly and placed it on the chair. He bent once again over the desk and wiggled his ass for effect.
“Now you’re just teasing me.” Bucky groaned at the sight before him.
Steve rolled his eyes, “Guess you’re not so cocky anymore, maybe I should top.”
Bucky chuckled, “Not today, I’ve been having fantasies about this ass for the longest time. It’s just amazing.”
Steve blushed and buried his face in his arms.
“There’s that blush.” Bucky smiled, he saw how is trailed all the way down the blonde’s neck and chest, “Wow, it really does go far down.”
Bucky slowly lubed up his fingers before at an equal pace pushed into Steve, he earned himself a muffled groan and the sight of the blonde’s arched back. Like an angel out of a renaissance painting.
“Ever done this before?”
Steve nodded his head, “Just not in here.”
“Well, I’m honoured then to be your first and hopefully your only.” He began to move his fingers quickly, they didn’t have all the time in the world. Even though the university was next to dead, someone could come in.
And that turned Bucky on even more.
Bucky continued to finger him, slowly opening up his hole until Steve was whining under him. He inserted a third finger which caused the blonde to buck his hips up in the hopes of getting more of the sensation that was crawling all over his body.
“You’re so tight, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fit my cock in here. But, I think I might stand a chance considering how well you’re opening up for me.”
“More, more. Please, Buck.”
Bucky added a fourth finger, moving at a quick pace this time, but kept aware if Steve started to show any discomfort.
“Bucky, fuck you feel so good. I don’t think I’ve ever been fingered like that.” Steve groaned.
Bucky chuckled, slowing down his pace just slightly to earn a moan from Steve, “Aw, don’t inflate my ego like that.”
Steve opened an eye at Bucky, “I wouldn’t bet on it.” But let out another moan as Bucky picked up his pace once more. Little jolts of pleasure shot up his spine with every thrust of Bucky’s fingers, they were like a work of art.
Steve could paint Bucky like this and never get it right. The passion that Bucky held in his eyes as he continued to finger him, the careful precision as he stretched Steve to accommodate his cock. Don’t get him started on how his cock looked, Steve had seen his fair share of the male form both in school, in the army and being on the internet, but never had he wanted to sketch, paint, examine and showcase how amazing Bucky’s cock looked in art. It sounded cheesy, but his mind was slowly getting dragged into the warm of pleasure.
“You ready for me, Steve?” Bucky’s voice brought him back as he slowly took out his fingers.
Steve groaned at the sudden loss, “Yeah, come on, fuck.”
Bucky chuckled, “Have I ever heard you swear before? I don’t think so.”
“Don’t tease me.” Steve arched his back.
“It’s only fair considering that you teased me.” Bucky gripped onto Steve’s ass and gave it a tight squeeze. He rounded the man to get a good look at his face.
“That was all fun and games, plus we don’t have much time. We really shouldn’t be doing it here.” Deep down Steve wanted to do it in his desk.
Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek, “Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll feel like time is slowing down.”
“Oh, stop that.” Steve buried his face in his arms in an attempt to hide the darker blush that was growing across his face.
“Words like that get to you.” Bucky smirked.
“Shut up.”
Bucky licked his lips at the sight of the blush, it growing darker the longer the two of them spent like this. He slowly stoked his cock as he covered it with lube.
“You look amazing.” He sighed out as he continued to rub his cock.
“You tease.” Steve mumbled into his arms.
Bucky stopped and got back behind the blonde. He slowly pushed his cock inside of Steve, the tight feeling around his cock made him harder. It was a feeling he had never felt before, he’s been with guys and girls alike, but the situation and the build up had lead up to this and it felt so damn good.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here.” Steve groaned as he was being pushed up against the desk even more only to be dragged away immediately after, keeping in pace with Bucky’s thrusts. His self preservation was almost gone as he felt himself grow harder at the sensation, at the feeling of Bucky completely dominating him.
“Yet, we’re here. You’re all nice and bent over and I’m fucking you right into the wood.”
Steve responded, “Next time, I top.”
Bucky gave Steve a nice swat on the ass, “Alright, baby, whatever you say.” Then gave a hard thrust, his cock nudged against Steve’s prostate. Steve scrambled to cover his mouth as he let out a sultry moan. It felt so good and sparked this small fire in his stomach, to do something wrong and inappropriate. After spending so much time in the military maybe he needed to something on the wrong side of ethics, not illegal just frowned upon. At least with the semester over he was able to do more of this, except maybe in the comfort of his own bed and not the hard wood of the desk.
“If you top next time, you’ll still be making those same noises you’re holding back now.” Bucky purred, his voice was hot against Steve’s already burning ears.
“Shut up.” Steve squeaked out, his voice was a little too high pitched from his liking, thanks to another brush of Bucky’s cock against his sweet spot.
Bucky smirked and began to thrust harder, “You like that?”
Steve felt his knees begin to shake as he nodded his head, not confident in his ability to pronounce words.
Bucky dipped his head and began to kiss at Steve’s skin, it felt sweaty against his lips, but it didn’t matter to him. After months of pining over this man, he was finally getting what he wanted, to just have Steve Rogers close to him.
“You’re so beautiful.” He groaned as he nipped at the skin.
“Shit, Bucky, please.” Steve croaked out. He felt his body tense up as he got closer to orgasming. He didn’t want Bucky to stop, his head felt clouded with lust and a need for the other man.
He never thought he’d ever get this far with him, he was too skittish for a while, but those beautiful eyes, soft hair and shining smile had him weak in the knees, and it wasn’t like this kid was dull. Cracking jokes, flirty gazes and always asked the right questions. After being on his own with Scamp for some time, it was everything Steve needed in a companion, a partner… A boyfriend.
“You’re amazing, you feel so good.” Bucky groaned.
Bucky thrusted, his hands planted against the smooth, pale flesh of Steve’s hips. His eyes casted down to how the blonde’s ass looked as he fucked him harder. The slight jiggle of his ass with every thrust caused an electric feeling to run down his spine.
Fuck, he was perfect.
He picked up the pace, going fast enough that he knew that Steve’s beautiful thighs and hips were going to be bruised tomorrow morning due to how hard he was being pushed up against the hardwood. The desk moved ever so slightly forward with each thrust.
Steve began to feel the pleasure washing over him in larger waves, ready to pull him under and make him orgasm. He was surprised by how well Bucky knew how to maneuver him, how to make him feel so good. Maybe Steve was a simple man with simple ways to get off, but his mind wasn’t to that. It was instead focused on the orgasm he was chasing.
“Buck, Buck.” He groaned out as quiet as he could like a mantra.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I’m going to make you feel so good.” Bucky said as he took a tighter hold of Steve’s hips. He loved how smooth the skin felt under his touch, how pale it looked as it was always hidden under tight fitting dress pants.
“Bucky, I’m gonna, I’m gonna come real soon.” Steve groaned out, his socked toes curled as Bucky’s cock brushed against his sweet spot again.
Bucky grinned, the slight desperation in his voice only encouraged him to fuck Steve hard, making sure to aim for the sweet spot just to give Steve that edge he needed. He could imagine himself doing this more often. To bare witness to how beautiful Steve looked when he let his professionalism down and acted a bit on the risky side. Only he got to strip away the edges of the blonde, beautiful history professor and see the tease that haunted his dreams since the day they first met.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Bucky kissed along the shell of the other man’s ear, he felt how hot and red it was against his lips. How the blush he always fantasized about went as high on his body as it did low. It only added to the undeniable charm that Steve had, even if he never noticed it, “I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you.”
“No I’m not.” Steve gave a feeble response.
Bucky gave an extremely hard thrust, it caught Steve off guard, “You’re beautiful and don’t forget it.”
Steve only responded in a groan, wrapped up in his goal to achieve orgasm.
Steve quickly covered his mouth with his hand, gritted his teeth as he jerked his hips to get him over the edge, to reach his climax. He let out a strained moan as pleasure washed over him and he came all over his stomach and the desk.
He brain felt fried, his cock sensitive and his body was still shaking. Fuck, he was wrecked.
“That’s it, that’s it, baby. I’m close behind you.” Bucky sighed into Steve’s neck as he continued to thrust his hips. Steve felt so laxed against him, but yet his hole still clenched around him.
Bucky kissed along Steve’s neck, tasting the salt on his sweaty skin. He felt heavenly, better than any fantasy he could ever come up with. With a few more hard thrust of his hips, he lets out a low groan before biting Steve’s neck, leaving a nice red hickey just above where the neck and collarbone meet.
“Bucky.”
“Yeah, baby.”
Steve turned his head as much as he could as smiled, his expression looked so blissed out. With his eyes shut and breathing that came out is hard pants along with the mess on his abdomen.
“Oh baby, fuck yeah.” He groaned out as he felt a shiver crawl up his spine and his orgasm caused his head to swirl.
Steve let out a blissed out sigh and mumbled, “Fuck that felt good.”
“You could say that again.” Bucky responded as he wiped the sweat away from his forehead.
“I’m keeping you that’s for sure.” Steve chuckled, “I think you’re stuck with me for good.”
“Sounds like a plan.”, Bucky slowly pulled out, feeling the stickiness of the lube and his own cum coat his cock. He was still feeling the after shivers of orgasm. He peeled off the condom and wrapped it in tissues.
Steve panted as he grabs some tissues off the desk, “I never, ever want you to take a class with me again.” He wiped away the cum on his stomach and off the desk. That desk was going to smell like cum for the next semester, even if it doesn’t Steve would still it does.
Bucky looked a bit disappointed, he felt as if his heart had begun to break. Did Steve only want him for this one time? Was all the lead up to this and that was it?
“I don’t mean it like that.” He reached out for one of the papers on the stack still on the desk. It’s an academic map, he handed it to Bucky, “If you want or do take anymore history courses here’s what you can take. If you don’t take a class from me you’ll graduate faster and then we won’t have to hide this.” He sat up on the desk, “I don’t want to do that to you.”
Bucky broke out into a grin, “I knew you were into me, but that was really bad post-sex talk.”  before he leaned over and pressed another filthy kiss on Steve’s lips which made the blonde moan.
“Sorry about that, but hey, you got me.” Steve smiled finally catching his breath.He reached for his sweater put it back on, “So, how does seven o’clock next Thursday at the McGilligan's pub sound? All the students will be back home by then.”
“Sounds great! So what are you doing for the holidays?”
Steve shrugged, “Home with my dog, my folks are long gone by now. What about you?”
Bucky pulled on his red henley and zipped up his hoodie, “Not on the best terms with my family so I’ll be in my dorm.”
Steve thought about it for a moment, “When the semester is done and we had our first date, would you want to maybe spend the holidays with me? You don’t have to say yes, I know you have some friends who you’d probably wanting to hang out with.”
Bucky shook his head, “Sam’s out in DC to see his parents. Nat is going back to Russia to see her mom, Clint is going with her and we all have bets to see if he’s going to come back alive.” He lightly chuckled, “So I’m pretty much by myself with enough hot ramen and plums.”
“Plums?” Steve chuckled.
“They were at the last farmer’s market in the quad, they taste good okay.”
Steve pulled up his pants and walked over to Bucky, there was a slight limp in his step. He kissed Bucky on the lips and wrapped his arms around his waist, “Well, bring whatever you need, I’ll be taking care of you this holiday season.”
“I like the sound of that.” Bucky smiled, he was a little smug at Steve’s slight limp, knowing that he alone caused that. He snaked a hand down Steve’s back and groped his ass, “Christmas morning there better be a bow around this.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “Still snarky.”
“And you’re still so gone for me.”
Maybe history wasn’t as dry as Bucky originally thought, especially when he got the bright red “A” a few weeks later and the directions to get to Steve’s apartment.
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dukeofriven · 7 years ago
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FOOL: “By the Lord, fool, I am not mad.”— But do you remember? ‘Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal; an you smile not, he’s gagged?’ And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. - Twelfth Night, 5.i For fuck’s sake. Let’s just, for the moment, set aside the utter horror of the event itself - the mourning, the agonies physical, mental, spiritual, the trauma that will afflict people for the rest of their lives. Let’s lay aside the secondary horrors, of everyone not ‘there’ who now has to process the event - the clean-up, the identification and cataloguing of the dead. Let’s set-aside the feelings of helplessness and gut-wrenching self-recrimination of people who will spend years blaming themselves for what happened - the ‘could have done betters’ the ‘why didn’t I realizes’ the ‘if only I acted fasters,’ because events like this are never singular in their trauma, they spread it in tendrils of loathing. Let’s set aside what we all know will happen next: ‘thoughts and prayers,’ a refusal to accept mass murder as a political statement and a demand not to politicize the event, the same Candide-esque, almost zen-like statements in support of a culture where sickening mass murder happens weekly and nobody does anything about it because why would you? America has more guns than people As Is Their Right and acting like there are consequences to that fact would be foolish or, worse, political. Let’s set aside the millstone of the second amendment - both the repeatedly fatal modern misinterpretation of its language and the broader, never-examined inability of a nation to even consider that it’s founding members might have erred in framing its legal foundations - either from bias, oversight, or simple failure to accurately predict the technological and social changes of the subsequent two and a half centuries. Let’s set aside the gross obscenity that is the Department of Homeland Security informing the public that is has uncovered no links to terrorism and that other venues are not at heightened risk - because if we examine that quote for even a second we come to the blood-chilling implication that the Las Vegas gunman didn’t need the financial backing of a nefarious terrorist organization to arm himself and carry-out an attack that killed 50 and injured 400+ people - he just needed to go to a store, and therefore all venues are at the same terrible, unpredictable risk of lunatics who are allowed to own 10 firearms with little oversight or scrutiny that they were yesterday as they are today, and will be again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. Let’s even lay aside the fact that since the middle of last night every casino owner in Las Vegas has been locked in meetings with their business partners, lawyers, and accountants as they - almost paralyzed by blind panic - try and predict how this will affect revenue over the next six months and how they can best minimize the damage to their pocket books - because let’s not pretend that a corporate culture that was content to passively let people gamble their lives away is going to find a conscience when lives in the region are taken more actively. Let’s set all that aside because at the end of the day none of this is unique - if we neglected covering something in the litany of stark, sobering horrors above we shouldn’t worry: we’ll have another chance to mention it the next time the horror comes round. Even oh-so-edgy, truth-to-power, we-simply-must-change write-ups like this one are part of the process - a thousand came out after Orlando, a thousand came out after Sandy Hook, a thousand more will come out in the next few days, and they will all fall howling into the amaranthine void, having accomplished nothing. If Europe is place that cannot escape its past, America is a place that refuses to look directly at it, save through a mirror darkly. America is a place where pattern recognition is a mortal sin in the eyes of the political class. When the Challenger exploded the board of inquiry started asking a series of whys and hows - looking not only at the specific, technical failure that caused the shuttle to explode, but at the reasons for that failure in the first place: the culture of complacency, arrogance, and profit that existed within the institutions - NASA, Marshall, Morton Thikol - that had failed so badly to protect American lives. Whenever American society explodes, however - whenever the system fails to stop a madman from committing brutality and terror - you’re not allowed to ask more than one ‘why’ and one ‘how. “How did he do it” and “why”? The ‘how’ is always “he bought guns” and thank you, that’s all, no further questions. To examine the question further, to examine the culture that gets indignant at the thought of questioning gun ownership and the love and worship and appreciation of guns, is offensive, rude, ‘not the done thing.’ So let us set aside a cultural landscape where the act of social critique is far more disturbing and disloyal a trend then the weekly murder of the innocent en-masse. “America is full of responsible gun owners” the outraged will bristle, while doing nothing to address the fact that American guns owners are more consistently irresponsibly then any other nation on Earth not currently on the edge of or having collapsed, doing nothing to address the fact that America’s relationship to the consequence of mass gun ownership has no corresponding reflection anywhere else in the first world. ‘A few bad apples’ is the familiar refrain whether it is mass shootings or police brutality or sex crimes at fraternities - the annual, predictable harvest of bad apples is a quirk, an anomaly, and not a reflection that the orchard itself is not so much riddled with disease and sickness as it was seeded with toxic cultivars at the start; that these bad apples are the trees producing fruit as intended, that all of this is preventable if only anyone would actually tend to the orchard with a ruthlessness that would lead to tangible results. Let us set that all aside because it is a given - immutable, unchanging - and focus on the one thing in all of this sickening tragedy that is new, namely that this morning the president of the United States came within a heartbeat of sending the victims of senseless trauma his ‘warmest congratulations’ on the event of their being assaulted by a madman with guns. “Warmest condolences” isn’t a thing people should say - it’s some awful confabulation between ‘sincerest condolences’ and ‘warmest congratulations,’ born perhaps of confusion over the right thing to say in the moment. Culturally you’re allowed to be insincere with your congratulations, hence the intensifier of ‘I really mean it,’ but it’s gauche to be insincere when expressing sympathy. On any other day, with any other person, I would doubtless overlook it as a slip of the tongue. For all I know it is a regional difference and New Yorkers warmly offer condolences to one-another all the time - but after a week spent watching one Donald J. Trump repeatedly disrespect the mayor of a dying city he is failing to lend aid too, complain that football players are pussies for not putting themselves at greater risk of concussions for the entertainment of the masses, and cutting the legs out from under his chief diplomat for no other reason than he wants to seem like the biggest cock of the walk when it comes to nuclear war, I can only see this as one more example of a man whose lack of empathy takes my breath away. Donald Trump doesn’t know a thing about sympathy - but he knows what it sounds like when someone tells him how great he is, so that’s what he defaults too. That last little meaningless valediction - ‘God Bless You” - really sets my teeth on edge for it hollowness and vacuousness (coming as it does from a man who is his own god) but it’s that opening statement that is the most meaningless. (It is amazing how Donald J. Trump washes clean the sins of past presidents. How can we ever consider Nixon cold and unfeeling when compared to Trump? How can we feel that Regan’s rapidly deteriorating mental state made him unfit for the presidency when compared to Trump? How can Eisenhower, Kennedy, and LBJ choosing to mire America in the bloody charnel house of Vietnam rather than lose any face on the world stage seem nearly as bad when compared to Trump, taking the world to the edge of nuclear war for no greater reason than his infantile ego?) The panic, horror, and surreality of mass shooting have happened before. They will happen again. But now we are faced with a new element - sincerity so ineffectual, so insincere, so clearly forced that the national mourner-in-chief can not even find the humanity within himself to reflect upon the shocking, brutal loss of American lives in a way that makes any of this feel real. We have already become numb to mass shootings in American: are we now becoming indifferent? Is so little demanded of political leaders’ empathy and compassion that glimpses of grief - glimpses of the real people who inhabit the office - are surplus to requirements? The biggest mass shooting in American history happened last night, less than eighteen months after the previous biggest mass shooting in American history: in the time between the last great shooting and this one American has only gotten colder, more violent, and less caring. The trends above seem to go hand-in-glove with this new trend of a president who can shed only crocodile tears. How long before his incapacity finishes trickling down to the rest of them? How long before they stop acting like they should care? How long before we stop expecting them? How long before the next mass shooting becomes like the next drunk-driver crashing on the highway - beneath the notice of the great and powerful? After all, it happens every day - and it’s not like we can do anything about it. It is The Way Things Are.
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assbuttyourlife · 7 years ago
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When We Were Young - Chapter Two
Pairing : Misha/OFC
Warnings : Fire, trauma, PTSD, family members’ death (including child), therapy, flashbacks (not in every chapter), cheating. Long fic. Angst, fluff and smut will come later in the story.
Words : 3478
Summary : After her grandmother's funeral, Lily must return to the place she lived in when she was young and has to confront the ghosts of her past. She will run into an old friend that she thought was lost forever.
Note : Another flashback in this chapter, to explain what really happened in 1990. I don't remember when or where, but Misha did indeed talk about that at a convention. He didn't give any specific details, but it definitely happened, just not the way I wrote it. (obviously!)
This chapter was beta’d by @dixseptdixhuit
CHAPTER 2 – FIRE
Lily woke up quite disturbed the next morning. She hadn’t slept that much, and the few rest she managed to have was full of nightmares.
Ugh, get up Lily, you can do this, it’s Friday!
She went to the kitchen, made some coffee and sat in her comfy sofa with her laptop to check her emails and Facebook. She did that every morning because she needed time to wake up slowly, and there was nothing else she could do without caffeine in her body. She was the grumpy type of person in the morning, and if you dared messing with her before coffee, she would probably eat you alive.
When she opened her emails, she wasn’t surprised to find a lot of condolences and people sending her their best wishes, mostly coworkers, neighbors or friends. She would eventually have to answer to all of them… But not today.
Same on her Facebook: friends from Nice, Katie’s family, some old high school and college mates all sending compassionate messages and wishes. It actually made her feel a little better to read all of these nice words from people she hadn’t seen for a long time.
When it was done and she was pumped up with caffeine, she went to her bedroom to get dressed. She opened her closet and sighed heavily. When her boss and friend David told her to stay home the whole week after her grandmother passed, she insisted on working today because she didn’t want to stay at home crying, remembering good times and feeling sorry for herself, but she was now regretting her decision because she would have to deal with Hayley, a.k.a. the slut who was in her bed yesterday right after the funeral, riding her boyfriend and screaming for more at the top of her lungs.
Ugh, how the hell am I going to deal with her?
She took a deep breath before picking her clothes. She opted for a simple white strap dress with gold sandals. Simple but sexy; she had to prove she was fine and ready to move on, and she wanted to prove Hayley her point: she was older, yes, but still not too old to look good enough to catch men’s eyes.
She will regret being born.
But then Lily looked at herself in the mirror and all she saw were dark circles, tiny wrinkles, and her long dark red hair in a huge mess. She definitely had to take the time to apply make-up… lots of make-up.
She’s twenty-nine and you’re thirty-eight, what did you expect?
She put on some make-up, tied her hair in a long wavy ponytail, put a black leather jacket to hide the ugly scar on her back that she hated, took her case and stepped out of her apartment. She had one more mission before leaving for work, and not the least: going to Katie’s and check if she was on time. She climbed the few stairs separating her from Katie’s floor and knocked on her door, praying that she would at least be awake.
Katie opened the door. Thank God she’s up!
“Hey Kat! I’m really proud of you, you’re actually up and…almost dressed.” Lily gave a quick hug to her friend who was standing half asleep in front of her. She pushed the door and entered fast.
“Hey.” Katie answered unamused.
“Come on, sleepy head, we have to go! You have exactly eight minutes to be fully ready, and that also means you won't have time to eat, so brace yourself, we'll get something on the way. You better hurry or the guys will be pissed!”
“Hhhmmffffff…” was all Lily heard for an answer.
After a long and painful time to get ready, the two women were finally in Lily’s car driving to work.
They both worked at the Seattle Symphony as professional musicians: Lily in the first violin section and Katie played the flute. Music was an endless passion for Lily, and as far as she could remember, she always played an instrument. She started studying piano when she was three, and violin when she turned seven.
It was also how she met Katie; back in France, when Dr Dorville had asked her what she liked to do outside of school, Lily answered she loved playing music, so the doctor suggested she played in Nice's orchestra, and she met Katie, who had already been playing there for two years. Music was like a second therapy; Lily could express her emotions through her instrument, and she practiced so hard, trying to keep her mind out of her dark past, that she became a very talented and perfectionist musician.
When Lily wanted to go back to America years later at the age of twenty-eight, she couldn't leave without Katie, who had become like her sister, and was absolutely thrilled to go with her to live “the American Dream” as she liked to call it. They both had no difficulty impressing the conductor and persuading him to hire them both.
They miraculously arrived at work on time, and Lily tried her best not to cross Hayley's path, but it was impossible since she played cello, which meant she was positioned in the section right in front of her.
Of course... Cello... I should've guessed she loves spreading her legs!
Fortunately, the day went by pretty normal and eventless, and when they went back home, it was time for them to start packing, because Lily had to go spend the weekend in Northfield, where she grew up, to take care of her grandmother's last will. Of course, Katie had insisted to go with her; there was no way she could face that alone, and she also admitted that she was pretty curious to finally see where Lily had spent her childhood.
Katie was quick to pack, and when she came to Lily's apartment to check if she was ready to leave for the airport, she found her friend on her knees, in front of her closet, crying over her suitcase with piles of clothes everywhere in the room.
“Lily? What's wrong?”
When Lily looked up at her friend, Katie's heart broke a little. She was a mess, mascara smeared under her eyes, sniffing through her tears.
“I can't do it, Katie,” she sobbed.
Katie knelt next to her and took her hand. “Do what? Packing? Yeah I can see that!”
“No! Going back there! I'm so scared...”
It had been more than twenty years and she never went back. Not once. Running away and ignoring her pain was easier than facing her demons. Weak and cowardly, yes, but much easier.
The house she once shared with her mom and her brother was probably still there, she didn't even know in what shape it was, if it burnt completely or not, but she always refused to go back and face the ghosts of her past. The domain was her grandmother's property, along with her grandparents' house in Litchfield. Now that they were all gone, it was Lily's legacy, so she had to take care of it. She owed that to her family, especially to her grandfather who had worked too hard for all of this to be left behind. She had to honor their memories or she wouldn't be able to look at herself in a mirror for the rest of her life. But what was she supposed to do? Sell it? It kinda didn't feel right, but what else could she do?
“I'll be with you. I won't leave your side, I promise. It will be fine, Lily, don't worry. I know it must be hard for you but you'll probably feel a ton better after all. And it will certainly help you moving on for good and be over with it once and for all.”
“Yeah... I hope you're right. Thanks, Katie, I'm sorry I overreacted.” Lily wiped her face before giving Katie a hug.
“Sure. It's normal, you had a hard week. Oh, and you know what I just noticed? You, my dear, are the one who's late now, and I'm not.” Katie proudly said, grinning.
Lily had to giggle to that and nodded to her friend. She really had to hurry or they would miss their flight.
“Who knew that could happen?... Alright, I'll hurry.”
Katie nodded with a smile and pushed her large black glasses up her nose before helping her friend.
When everything was finally in order, David drove them to the airport, and with lots of doubts and fears, Lily and Katie were flying to Connecticut. Lily was about to make a twenty-two years step back in her past, and she was utterly terrified.
She closed her eyes and thought about the last time she was there. She didn't think she would come back one day; she wished her time in France and the therapy had healed everything, but she obviously was wrong.
**************************************
August 1990. Nice – France
“So, Lily... How have you been since our last session?” Dr Dorville sat behind her desk, crossing her legs.
“I've known worse,” Lily answered honestly. A week had passed since her last session. She had tons of things to do before she could start her senior high school year in Nice, plus she had to learn at least enough french to not look like a total idiot in front of her future classmates and teachers, so her mind was too busy to think about something else.
“I'm sure you have. So... Let's not waste any time. I told you we would dig deeper today, and that's exactly what we're about to do.” She took her note pad and clicked her pen open.
Uh oh...
“I would like to talk about the recent events that led you and your grandmother to move here,” she stated with determination in her voice.
“You mean the fire?”
“Yes... Among other things. Do you feel you can tell me what happened that night? I think it's something you need to get off your chest now because it was traumatic, and as long as we avoid the subject, you won't be able to make any progress in your healing process.”
Traumatic? No kidding.
Lily sighed and closed her eyes. She didn't know if she was ready for this.
“I... I can try.” It was almost a whisper.
“Alright. If you feel like it's too much for you, just tell me and we'll stop.”
“Okay... I don't even know where to start though. Some parts are a little blurry too.”
“It's okay, I'll help you. It is normal if you can't recall everything in details. Do you remember the date it happened?”
Lily braced herself and answered “June 29th?” She wasn't even sure about the date, so it came out more as a question.
“It was actually June 30th already, but very early in the morning, it was still night time.” Dr Dorville corrected nicely.
“Oh. Right. It makes sense.” She shrugged.
“So you were sleeping in your room, right?”
“Yes. Something woke me up.” Lily was very hesitant. It was so strange to talk about that with her. She knew she could trust her therapist and Dr Dorville wasn't so bad really, but she sort of felt naked in front of her and that wasn't the best sensation.
“What was it?” she encouraged.
“Well... Misha woke me up, actually.” Silence fell in the room and Dr Dorville looked up from her notes and tilted her head.
“Misha? The son of your mom's friend?”
“Yes, umm... We both fell asleep in my room. I suppose he heard something, or it was the smell, I don't know, and then he realized something was wrong and he woke me up.”
The doctor wrote something on her notepad and looked up again. Lily could feel she was very curious about her story, but she wouldn't elaborate too much, she didn't need to know everything in details.
“I see. What did you do next?”
“Not much... He told me to get up, that we had to go out. I was still half asleep, I didn't understand what was happening. I thought he was just messing with me. But then... I smelled smoke and I realized he could be serious, so I got up and we went for the door.” The scene was vivid in Lily's mind. She could almost smell it again, she could still hear the urge in Misha's voice in her head. It was scary to remember.
“Were you afraid?”
“Not right away... I didn't know how bad it was and Misha was still pretty calm, so I didn't feel threatened.”
“I've read in your file that you were found in your room. Why didn't you leave right away?”
“When Misha tried to open the door, something fell in the hallway, blocking it. We were trapped. I saw flames through the door and it became hard to breathe, because there was smoke in my room too.” She cleared her throat and paused to take a deep breath. She could feel the lump forming already.
“Take your time, Lily, you're safe here. Let me get you some water.” Dr Dorville stood up and left the room. She quickly came back with a small water bottle and a cup that she put in front of Lily on the desk. It wasn't much really, but Lily thought she was a nice woman, and she felt a little more comfortable. She drank some water and felt ready to go on.
“I was scared at that point. I kinda froze. Misha took my hand, led us to the window and opened it, but my room was in the attic, we couldn't jump, it was too high.”
“Did you know where your family was at that moment? Where his family was?”
“Well... I heard Ryan screaming for my mom at some point, so I suppose she was near his room to get him out. Rebecca was outside when Misha opened the window. She told him she had already called 911 and asked Misha to stay in the room with the door closed and someone would come to get us quick. I don't know where Sasha was.”
“She just waited outside?” Dr Dorville couldn't hide her surprise.
“No, no! She came back inside, to help my mom I guess. I heard her call for us from downstairs a few moments later. She probably wanted to come and get us out, but she couldn't, something was obviously in the way, I don't know what. All I know is no one could come up by the stairs, or they would have, they wouldn't have just let us burn in the attic.” There was anger in Lily's voice, and she was a bit disappointed that Dr Dorville suggested they'd given up.
“Is it okay for you to go on?” She asked very gently. Lily closed her eyes for a few seconds and nodded, but the lump in her throat was very heavy now.
“How did you feel? What happened next?”
“I... I was terrified, and I knew Misha was trying to stay calm for my sake but he was scared too. We couldn't breathe, we were both coughing, so we sat on the floor at the foot of my bed, in front of the window. He tried to make me feel better but it was impossible. It was hot, there was smoke everywhere, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, all I could hear was wood cracking everywhere and my mom and Rebecca screaming from downstairs but I couldn't understand a word. I was panicking so Misha hugged me, but he was choking badly.”
“So you just waited for help, then?” When Dr Dorville asked that question, Lily almost felt attacked. She was already feeling super guilty, she didn't need to feel like they didn't do everything to get out.
“There was nothing we could do and nowhere else to go anymore!” she answered harshly.
“I know, Lily, no reproach here, I'm not here to judge. I'm just trying to have the maximum information to be able to understand and then help you. Sorry if I was a little too direct.”
Lily didn't answer. She was starting to feel angry, but probably more at herself, because she knew what happened next and she didn't really want to face it.
“Let me rephrase then: did you believe someone could get you out before it was too late?”
“I still had hope, yes. And then...” She shut her eyes tight and kept them shut when she spoke again “... Misha collapsed in my arms because he stopped breathing and I completely lost it. I laid him on the floor and tried to wake him up, I was calling his name again and again and I was shaking him but he didn't show any sign of life.” That was the most painful thing she ever felt, someone dying in her arms and her being totally helpless.
“We're almost done, Lily... But I will understand if you want to stop here.” Dr Dorville announced, and Lily truly considered finishing the session here and go back home. When she opened her eyes, tears fell down. Dr Dorville handed her the tissue box. She took one, wiped her eyes, and she surprised herself when she started talking again.
“I was feeling very dizzy and I was choking too. This is where I lost hope and thought I was going to die. I don't know why, but I took the blanket from my bed, I laid down on top of Misha and put the blanket on my back, probably to protect us from the fire, which is ridiculous because... blankets burn too, obviously.” Lily said sarcastically, showing the patched burn wound in her back.
“Then the firemen found you?”
“No. I wasn't conscious when they found us. After I put the blanket on us, I called Misha again but I knew it was pointless, then my vision went blank and I think I lost consciousness, and I don't know how much time passed until they finally found us and took us out... Enough time to get my back burnt, though.”
That was it. She did it... She managed to tell the whole story of that awful night. It was hard, it did hurt like a bitch, but she thought it was a tiny victory nonetheless.
“What is the first thing you remember after that?”
She thought for a few seconds.
“Waking up in the hospital, my grandmother in tears next to my bed, holding my hand. I was very confused at first, but when I started remembering what just happened, I asked her where was everyone and this is when she told me everyone was...” Lily paused, unable to say the word “dead”.
Dr Dorville spoke softly then. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“What can be more personal than the story I just told you?”
The doctor gave Lily a shy smile full of empathy and asked: “What kind of feelings did you have for Misha?”
Ah... didn't see that one coming.
It was indeed a very personal question, and though Lily knew exactly what the answer was, she didn't really see the point and she thought it was weird to say it out loud to a psychiatrist. But she was here to move on, right? So she looked Dr Dorville in the eyes and answered honestly.
“I loved him.” Tears flowed down her face and her chest ached because she realized it was in the past, done for good.
Dr Dorville pushed a little more. “Was it mutual?”
“Yes.”
That was a very direct and self-assured answer, which surprised Dr Dorville. How could a sixteen year-old girl be so sure about someone's feelings and say it so plainly after relating such a dramatic story?
“You seem pretty sure of it.” It picked her curiosity for sure.
“I am. But who cares now, he's gone.”
“That's... uncommon. Especially for someone your age. Most people often doubt when it comes to feelings.” the doctor explained, still surprised by her boldness.
“I don't. Are we done for today, Doctor?” Lily was on edge. She obviously didn't want to talk about it. Dr Dorville nodded.
“Yes, Lily. I am extremely proud of you, that was a huge step. I'm not going to keep you here any longer, you can go. I will see you next week.”
Lily stood up. “Thank you, Doctor.” 
She shook her hand and rushed out.
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