#I imagine he would just turn red like a tomato and vehemently deny it

[justsomeoneunordinary]

An “Assassin”

Day 2 of @winteriron-week: Assassin & Recovery

T, 2.3k, Crack, Humor, Sam Wilson Is a Little Shit and We Love Him for It, Background Sam/Nat, Team as Family, Bucky Is an Idiot in Love | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 3 / Day 4)

—

Muzzy is not a word Bucky thought he’d describe how he feels like with ever since he got injected with that bastardized version of the Super Soldier Serum. And yet it’s exactly how he’s doing after waking up and being blinded by the brightness all around him. A groan leaves his lips as he closes his eyes again.

Fucking hospitals and their stupid bright lights.

There’s a snort to his left, followed by a “Finally, you’re awake.”

Bucky slowly turns his head and blinks up at Sam who’s seated at the visitor’s chair, a grin plastered on his face, all shiny glinting teeth and tooth gap. The sole sight of the mischief in those black eyes is enough for his memories to come back.

And boy, do those hit harder than a truck on the highway.

“Oh man, that was hilarious.” Sam’s grin widens even more at that and Bucky can feel his cheeks heat up. “Can’t wait to tell the rest of the team what happened. I even got a video of it!”

Oh, hell no. Sam is already taking his phone out but before he can click on the video, Bucky shoots him an angry look and growls, “Don’t you even dare.”

He tries to get up in a sitting position, so he can throw a pillow for emphasis but with each movement the room spins even more and he loses orientation anew. Faintly, he feels a pain in each of his joints, but his head is too dizzy to register it properly. God, the last time he had been like this was in 1937 when he got high in the queer bar down the street of Steve’s and his apartment with that tiny guy from the neighborhood who knew to give one hell of a blowjob. 

“Sure. I already quiver in fear,” comes the deadpan reply.

What an ass. Not for the first time does he wish to kill Sam. Just a little bit. As a treat.

So, he pulls his winner card: “You tell anyone what happened and I tell Nat where you hid that strap-on of hers she’s been missing so much.”

Sam’s grin immediately falls at that, changing to an expression of pure outrage. “You son of a bitch.”

Hah, checkmate. Bucky still can’t feel any of his face muscles, so he doesn’t know if they’re doing the right thing, but he imagines he’s grinning smugly right now.

“Have you even seen that strap-on? That thing is deluxe! You wouldn’t want that up your ass either!”

No, Bucky had not seen it, and he’d like to leave it that way too, thank you very much. But knowing Natasha, he can only imagine what it must look like. She tells him much more about their sex life than he’d ever want to know. And he still doesn’t know why she tells him these things of all people, instead of Clint or Wanda or hell, even Tony (Tony would absolutely participate in any sex talk there is (Bucky wouldn’t say no to sex talk when Tony is involved in it)), but he suspects it’s her own way of hobby torture.

Sam wrinkles his nose while he gets up, flips him the bird and says, “Fine, you win.” Then he walks to the door and Bucky squints at him, because there’s no way it would be that easy, Sam would definitely want to have the last word—

“Good luck explaining to Tony what happened, because he’s waiting outside already,” Sam tells him while opening the door, winking at Bucky and leaving the room, his snickering still lingering in the halls outside.  

… Fuck.

Okay, he’s got like… ten seconds before Tony comes in, he can easily just climb out of the window and up to the roof. He just needs to get out of the bed which shouldn’t be a problem, broken bones or not, because he’s a high-profile assassin and—

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Busted.

“Trying to disappear before you can see me?”

Tony blinks at him and Bucky blinks right back, because seriously, what the fuck Barnes? He didn’t mean to say that, it just… slipped out.

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a good idea. You might have enhanced healing, but you broke nonetheless more bones than you have in your body, I don’t think getting out of that bed any soon could end well for you. And it would be such a shame too. After all, I brought you a get well soon balloon.”

And sure enough, there it is. A red balloon. With a ‘get well soon’ inscription in golden letters. Bucky feels quite touched by this gesture. Tony thought of him. He brought him a balloon. In Iron Man colors even. That has to mean something, right?

As Tony comes closer, Bucky seizes the opportunity to appreciate the way Tony’s suit hugs his figure perfectly in all the right places. If Tony were his, he’d unwrap him out of it as if he was a present. He’d trace the material with his fingers, take slowly each layer off and soak in every inch of newly revealed skin.

“Hey, I know I look irresistible, but there’s no need to drool, Buckaroo.”

Damnit. Bucky would like to order a shot in the head right about now, please and thank you. He tries to wipe the drool off, but neither hand does what he wants, so he settles for living in shame forever.  

“So,” Tony sits down at the same chair Sam had been just a minute ago, “can you tell me what put you, a Super Soldier, in such a state?”

This is exactly the question Bucky had been afraid of. See, Bucky has a tiny little bit of a… problem.

It started only three weeks after he had moved into the Avengers Tower on a completely ordinary and uneventful morning. Bucky had sat himself down at the kitchen bar, as always on the second last chair on the left side, which was the exact right angle for him to get a look at Tony’s perfect round bubble butt when he would come and bend over the counter to get himself coffee, so his pants would stretch over that wonderful butt and Bucky would have an eyeful of perfection without being creepy about it, because he was “just sitting there” and “looking normally straight ahead”.

On that particular morning however, had Tony loudly cursed after opening his coffee can, and whirled around to glare at each Avenger with a look that promised murder and bloodshed. “Which one of you used the last bit of my coffee and then didn’t even tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to order more of it?”

The answer to that was obvious. No one else would’ve done something risky like that but Clinton “I have a death wish” Barton. Which wasn’t something they would tell Tony, because no one on this team was a snitch.

Well, and then Tony’s eyes landed on Bucky and it took only three seconds of having Tony’s full attention, that he blurted without a second thought, “Clint was it,” and even pointed with the finger towards him. That earned him a gasp and spluttering and an utterly disappointed “How could you? I thought we were sniper buddies!”

After that there was a pattern. One Nat didn’t take long to notice and confront him about it.

“You can’t lie.”

“What? Of course I can lie.” Which was true. You can’t be a high-ranking assassin and go on undercover missions without being able to lie—you’d die on the spot.

“Fine, I correct myself: you can’t lie at Tony.”

Which Bucky denied vehemently and then didn’t talk to Nat for a month.  

Fact is though, which it always is when it comes to Natasha Romanoff, that she was right. For some even to him inexplicable reason, Bucky is simply unable to not tell Tony the truth when he just looks at him. And it’s absolutely ridiculous, because Bucky should be able to. He is the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA. Instructor of the Black Widows in the Red Room. A weapon—a ruthless killer responsible for numerous assassinations. Tony’s big brown eyes, shining golden in the hospital’s light, framed by those surreal long eyelashes, which makes him the most beautiful person in the entire world, should not be a reason for—

“Sam bet that I wouldn’t manage to roller skate and I had to prove him otherwise.”

… Damnit. Bucky doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is redder than a tomato. The memory of it alone fills his entire being with embarrassment and Tony knowing what happened makes this situation definitely not a single bit better. He still can’t believe it happened in first place. Bucky is a well-trained Super Soldier! A pair of ugly shoes with some tiny wheels on it should not have been his downfall, for fucks sake!

Tony tilts his head at that, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait a moment. What exactly happened then? Did you just… fall?”

Bucky gulps and focuses on Tony’s tie pattern instead of answering. There are little Hulks on it. He likes it, it’s very Tony.

“In my defense; there was a staircase,” he murmurs at last, still not looking up. The Hulks on the tie wear purple pants. He’s pretty sure Bruce would like that tie too, he’s got a dorky humor like that, even though he’d never admit it.

A few seconds of complete quiet pass, and when Bucky finally does look up, he can see Tony’s corner of his mouth twitch, until he apparently gives in to his urge and throws his head back, laughing so hard that tears of laughter start forming and running down his cheeks.  

Bucky wishes for an instant divorce. Sure, this might be the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his life, but he still wants a divorce.

Not that they’re married or something—or at least not in real life. Bucky did dream of it once, though. It was a spring wedding. Nat and Pepper were their “best men”, because neither wanted Steve and Rhodey to hold a speech. The decorations were in Arc Reactor blue. It was very beautiful, people even cried.

“You are something else, Bucky Barnes,” Tony shakes his head, the humor still audible in his voice, and a look in his eyes, that could almost be described as fond.

Bucky takes the divorce-wish back.

“Now see,” Tony begins as he gets up and slowly gets closer to Bucky’s bed, “you’re not as subtle as you think you are.” He sits down at the edge of the bed an sends him one of those brilliant smiles, that make Bucky’s head all dizzy and his heart sing with want. “Those looks you always give me are unmistakable.”

Tony takes that weird looking pudding from the nightstand and starts opening it up. “And all this time,” he continues, “I waited for you to finally make a move.” At that he rams the spoon with the pudding right into Bucky’s mouth without any prior warning.

Bucky almost chokes and it’s only thanks to his control over his reflexes that he ends up swallowing the pudding, instead of spitting it out. He coughs a few times and looks up at Tony in shock and disbelief. If this is how Tony takes care of injured people, Bucky doesn’t have any interest to ever do a nurse role play with him.

Tony gasps in indignation. “Are you telling me you would not want to see me in a nurse costume?”

This time Bucky does choke. On nothing but his own spit.

He imagines Tony in one of those tight short dresses, his legs all exposed, wearing heels as well as rich red lipstick and—and stops before his blood can rush anywhere south.

“Yeah, thought so,” Tony smirks and proceeds to slam another spoonful of pudding into Bucky’s mouth. At this point Bucky doesn’t know if his face is red from embarrassment, horniness or almost chocking, but red it sure is.

“Where was I again? Ah right, so I waited for you to make a move, but had to face reality, that you’re just too chicken to do anything about your crush on me. Which is kind of ironic, because aren’t you supposed to be a feared assassin or something?”

Bucky’s brain officially short-circuits at that, because Tony did… what?

“Yes, yes, I figured out your little secret, keep up with the class, I don’t like repeating myself. So anyway, this is me��” another spoon makes its way down his throat— “asking you for a date, because you apparently weren’t going to.” And Tony smiles at him so brightly, Bucky is sure he could lighten an entire country.

Bucky holds his breath and waits to wake up, because this can’t be real, this must be a dream. But when after a while nothing happens, but Tony’s smile slowly falling apart and making room for an unsure expression, he asks, “A date?”

“Yup.”

“With me?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“Okay,” he croaks, so he doesn’t do something dumb like start crying from happiness for example or jump at Tony who’d crush under his weight.

“Okay?”

Bucky clears his throat. “Yes, okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Okay.” And back is that smile finally Bucky would like to kiss one day.

“Now that that is settled,” Tony digs into the pudding again (fucking hell, is that still not empty?), “how about a deal while I take care of you, since we have to wait until you have healed anyway before we can go anywhere: you tell me where Wilson has hidden Nat’s deluxe strap-on and I tell the rest of the team that you got your injuries from a heroic fight protecting civilians against a criminal. Hm, what do you think?” The glinting mischief in Tony’s eyes when he winks at Bucky is unmistakable.

Bucky thinks that this is the best day of his life.

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-four🔖

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved > displaying capture targets

Mammon : 100♡/100♡ Satan: 85♡/100♡ Barbatos: 0♡/100♡ Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES >approved }

You wondered where it all went wrong.

Everything had been perfect since you discovered the identity of your secret admirer. Uncovering sides of Mammon that perhaps he wasn't even aware of himself, you spent a lot of time getting to know each other, marveling at every new thing you discovered about him. You kept his love-filled words close to your heart, lingering there at times when you felt lost and perhaps even unloved. His penned words were beautiful yet poignant, hopeful yet deep which, you have eventually discovered reflected so much of Mammon himself. He often rebuffed your praises, perhaps shy of your careful observations. There would always be a blush there dusting his cheeks, colouring itself in deeper shades at every sneaky kiss. You always liked those nights when you talk about anything that pops out of your minds, and you thought he liked them too. But now, you were starting to feel doubt.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

Flashback to this morning when it all started.

"Mammon?" you couldn't help but reach out to him, your hand touching his cheek. ' Didn't the spell work?' you thought to yourself as you heard him stutter a 'Yes', kissing your inner palms.

"Is something amiss, my love? You look like you've seen a ghost."

So it didn't work?

You shook your head and let your hand rest on his cheek. "No…I was just wondering if you wanted to sleep some more."

Why is he still acting like this?

"If I sleep now, then it would ruin yesterday's efforts." he fiddled with something in his DDD--his email app; showing two booked tickets to Devil's Coast. Signs of the old Mammon showed in his boyish grin. "And all it took was covering for an acquaintance's shift."

"Is that why you're there yesterday?"

Mammon smiled shyly. "Yes…I wanted to surprise you. Is it too early to celebrate the conclusion of our final exams?"

You couldn't help but smile back. You planted a kiss on his lips which he happily received. "Very early. But this is a nice change of pace before Armageddon."

"Ain't that the--" he cleared his throat and quickly corrected himself. "Very true. Once this weekend is over, we are back to our old, monotonous routines."

You weren't imagining it. Something about his graceful movements really did seem off. "I'm looking forward to it!" Then again, you supposed there was a reason behind this. You decided to humour him and pretend you haven't noticed anything. "Let me wash up first and we can grab something to eat?"

"That sounds lovely."

Hoping your feigned smile wouldn't betray you, you shut the bathroom door and quickly opened your DDD to text Satan.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror and nodded to yourself. Turtleneck it is. You learned your lesson the last time. A mixture of Mammon's toiletries and yours were in the bathroom, making you remember how he was trying his best to hide his excitement from invading half of your space the first time you talked about sharing a room. Not like his room was safe from your own stuff too--it just so happens that he likes hanging around your room lately because of how busy you were. He usually finishes his council duties early and tries (read: tried) to help you with yours, until both of you immediately realise that his bystanding was the best help he could offer. Any pouting from his side was placated with hugs and kisses, words of love he was too shy to say back and a loving gaze he couldn't help but give you when he thought you wouldn't notice. He still isn't the most honest demon when it comes to expressing his feelings, but you can see that he was trying. You just hoped that his recent gentlemanly behaviour is also a part of his trials and he isn't involved in anything dangerous.

Letting go of your nostalgia and embracing the present back in your thoughts, you wondered about the sound of shattering glass from outside. There you saw a flustered Mammon picking up the shards of what looked like Lucifer's china with his bare hands--his gentlemanly facade was nowhere to be seen.

"Mammon, no! Put that down. You'll injure yourself!" you cried, responding on instinct to take his hands into yours, throwing the shards back to the floor in the process. You snuck a look at Mammon and saw his troubled expression, bitten lips you usually noticed when he wasn't having the best kind of thoughts---or you simply dubbed as sad Mammon upon discovering it one drunken, wild and passionate night. You couldn't smell any alcohol on him this time though so you wondered what caused him to look this way.

"I'm fine…" Gentlemammon was back, albeit with a shaky voice. "Please don't worry, I still have to clean this up."

"Let me help you."

"It will heal quickly even if I get injured. There is nothing to worry about." he assured you, keeping your warning in mind, only to take it back once he saw your worried look. "I will wear gloves this time," he said as he hastily placed each pair on, a small smile forming his lips as he did so. "There, you see? I will be fine. So please step back now and I'll do it myself."

"What were you doing anyway?"

Mammon avoided eye contact. "I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed."

"That's very sweet but, you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

Silence. He continued picking up the shards, disposing of it in a trash bag nearby. "I want to push myself." You heard him sigh. "However, I suppose it's my mistake to assume I can carry this out without failure. Can I try again though?"

You didn't have the heart to reject him especially if he looked like a kicked puppy right now. "Of course! But I want to eat with you."

A compromise that he was willing to adhere to. The pancakes he made were slightly charred and oddly spicy. The Melancholy Coffee™ you praised him for making the other day tasted even worse---unpleasantly bitter that if you didn't attribute its strong, bitter taste to Mammon's love for you would have caused a gagging reflex. A feigned smile was painted on your face for the rest of breakfast, making mental notes to take stomach medicine once he is out of sight. You comforted yourself with the fact that you had a date with him today. The bitterness subsided a bit with your early morning daydreams.

Satan had been a wonderful accomplice. With his intervention, Mammon avoided bumping into anyone, thus making his situation a lot  less complicated. The avatr of wrath gave you a conspiratory smile and a wink, mouthing you well wishes for your day by your lover's side to go smoothly. You nodded and mouthed back at him a  thanks in reply. Your back and forth didn't escape notice however. You avoided Mammon's sensible questioning with a clueless smile.

"I haven't seen even Beelzebub at the dining area today. Is everyone but Satan asleep?"

Smile.

"I was going to pay back Leviathan for the money I owed him this morning. I wonder why he isn't around today…"

He will pay back?! Smile

"I wonder how my dear eldest brother Lucifer is doing--"

S-smile…

"As I thought, perhaps expecting change from me is unsightly. I'm sorry if I'm wasting your weekend by asking you out out of the blue…"

Smi--

"Wait, no!" you held him by his face and vehemently denied his claims. "I love you, Mammon! I'm looking forward to today as you are!"

Blush.

Your faces resembled tomatoes. Satan had to clear his throat to remind both of you of his presence.

"If you flirt any longer, you'll miss your bus."

"R-right…" you looked away.

"Certainly." Mammon stuttered. You felt a hand reaching out for yours, turning to Mammon who had a bashful smile. You smiled back and interlocked your fingers together.

The ride to the amusement park was awkward yet pleasant. You saw cracks in his facade a couple of times, familiar with the reluctance on his movements unlike his odd and almost unsettling finesse at the cafe. You still weren't sure if he really is still under a curse or not, or if he is and it was weakening every moment, but you decided to wait for him to address it on his own. You have recently learned that Mammon gets really flustered if you pay attention to him (bordering almost on timidity) and loses his will/drive if you let him know that you are aware of him. A few pillow talks ago, he admitted it was because he only wanted to show you his cool sides, to which you answered (with much confusion), "But you're always cool though?" and he responded with his usual remarks, ranging from "idiot" to his classic "weirdo"™. Today, much like yesterday however, there was none of that. Instead, he called you several affectionate pet names, and even bashfully shared some snacks with you that he usually considered as "indirect kiss territory", which is Mammon Code for "I ain't doin' this cos I like it, kay?" which totally meant that he was doing it because he liked the heck out of it.

"Hey Mammon," you looked at his reflection from your window seat as you spoke. "Why did you write me a letter?"

You saw him blush an adorable shade of red from the window. "What's with the sudden question?"

"I was just curious," you answered. "I didn't know you could write so well."

"I-is that so…"

"I really appreciate it, although you might be tired of hearing it already."

"...."

"I'm so glad you sent it to me. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if anyone will ever remember me once I go back to the human world." you remembered your first interaction with him and laughed. "We didn't have the best first impression of each other, didn't we?"

"...I should have treated you better."

You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, looking up to meet his eyes. "You're doing it now and that's what matters."

You sensed sadness in his eyes for a fraction of a second before the conductor announced your stop. You must have imagined it.

💌💌💌

"Wahhh! Mammon, look! Look! Is that Red Devil?! Kyaaaa he's so cuuuute!!"

"O-oi, don't pull-- I mean…Cease! Cease!"

You couldn't help it! There was so much to see everywhere! The crowded theme park was filled with all kinds of attractions at every direction that any child or child-at-heart would definitely enjoy. Taking a photo with the park's mascot, Red Devil is one of the first activities you have done from your many planned ones on your date. Your contagious enthusiasm had infected him that by the time he realised he was grinning at every picture, it was too late. He looked oddly disturbed but you only laughed it off and reassured him that the shots were great!

"It isn't...after all, I'm--"

"Mammon?"

"It's nothing." You were beginning to feel bad for dragging him along.

"Is everything okay?" he suddenly turned pale and you asked him to sit down. "Do you want to take a break?"

He declined your offer and shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's continue our date, shall we?"

Eh?

That pose…

"The Devilish Duke?"

It was definitely the Devilish Duke from the manga adaptation of Emison Beckstein's timeless classic, The Emerald-Eyed Earl. The Devilish Duke was the protagonist's fiancé and was a minor villain in the story. He became hugely popular because of the success of the manga adaptation as well as the artist's interpretation of his design. You couldn't help but mention it right now because Mammon was currently mimicking the Duke's infamous "courtship pose", which many otakus credit for being the very first ever "kabedon".

Mammon's eyes widened once you mentioned his name and quickly pulled away. He dragged you gently to the next attraction before you could say a word.

His odd behaviour only persisted as your date went on-- a kiss on your hand near the fountains, like what Senpai-San did to Shujinko-chan in Heartbeat Memorial: My First Love, Please Notice Me Or I Will Spontaneously Combust! ; a reiteration of an infamous line from a popular otome game, Mystery Message Delivery in the ferris wheel, as well as a kiss at its top, just like Mary Sue and Gary Stu from the popular Devildom Drama, I'm a Powerful Demon But I Fell in Love with a Human?. If you weren't familiar with the references, your heart must have already given out the first time he attempted those moves at you, but since you were aware of where they're from, you couldn't help but think it was cute instead. He must have done his own research to make you happy, but it was a failure on his part to not realise that you would have been happy even if he didn't go out of his way. Then again, it was pretty unfair to complain because anything Mammon did in your own biased eyes was precious and adorable.

"I love you, Mammon." you muttered loud enough for him to hear while you were in line for the Devil's Teacups . He must have heard it because he squeezed your hand tighter as you waited.

There were still times when he persisted on keeping his Gentlemammon™ facade, much like when he declined going to the horror house with you, only for you to find out he wanted to turn you down in the first  because he wasn't very good with ghosts (You had to wait for him to defrost after turning into a literal ice sculpture when one of the ghosts grabbed him by the ankle). He also swore not to let you ride "rigorous rides", but finally let his hair down and rode all of your favourite thrill rides with his usual energy and cheer. By the time he realised this, both of you were lining up for the March of Death for the third time. You learned your lesson already and didn't make a fuss about his tiny revelation. Instead, you held him by the arm and smiled at him. "It's fun, isn't it?" Mammon looked shocked at first, but as he sighed and finally replied, you noticed he was back to his usual self.  "It certainly is." Your heart immediately deflated at his answer, but more than anything, you couldn't help but be disappointed in yourself.

He had his guard up for the rest of your date and you didn't know why. It seemed like he was forcing himself. The sun was starting to set, and the bus home had been terribly late so you had a lot of time to contemplate while waiting for it to come. Mammon had been silent, looking up at the sky as if searching for something far away. You didn't want him to wander too far so you pulled him back.

"Why have you been acting weird since yesterday. What's wrong?" you couldn't help it. You have finally ran out of patience and you're starting to take his unusual behaviour personally, which you know deep down was unfair especially with how he went out of his way today.

Mammon looked taken aback, frowning once he processed your words. "What do you mean?"

"That. Why…why are you doing that?"

"..."

When he didn't answer, you finally aired out the thoughts weighing you down. "I didn't want to ask you because I wanted you to say it first, I'm sorry. Was it because of what I said last night?"

He called your name, sounding hurt. "Do you not like it?"

You shook your head. "I meant it when I said I don't like it, you know. And I mean it in the best way!" You held him by the hand and placed it close to your chest, hoping your beating heart was already telling. "I prefer the real you."

"Do you really mean that?"

You nodded again. "I even consulted Satan yesterday to undo your curse. You...you were cursed, weren't you?"

"So it was you."

What?

"Mammon,what's going on?" What did he mean by that? You started to worry.

However, despite your repetitions, Mammon didn't answer. Instead, he only looked at you guiltily. At some point, he held your hand back with his trembling ones. He needs time, you thought to yourself and kissed his knuckles, not saying a word. Eventually, your patience was rewarded.

"...I asked the witches to curse me."

You quietly urged him to continue speaking. "I just wanted this date to be perfect, y'know? Don't wanna screw it up. I always do.

.

.

.

.

.

Now don't look at me like that. It's unfair. Ya say one thing but mean another. Even you are sick and tired of me, yeah?"

What…

.

.

.

.

.

When did you ever say that?!

It hurt. It hurts to think that Mammon ever thought you'd think of him that way. You thought you had been a wonderful lover to him, always showering him with affection and treasuring every moment you shared together. You thought he knew how much he mattered to you, but it turns out you weren't expressing yourself enough and he assumed you were lying to yourself.

"I…I never…"

Crap. Now, you can't even see him clearly. Stupid tears. You felt him wiping your eyes at every tear shed, muttering apologies as he gently held you in his arms. "Shit! I didn't mean to make ya cry. Fuck, this is why I'm such a screw up! If I coulda stayed cursed for a while longer, you'd never cry like this!"

"Mammon…I love you." you repeated those words again and again until you were satisfied. "Didn't I tell you? I love you for who you are and what you are that I have eventually found out on my own."

He didn't speak after what you said, instead he pulled you away from the hug. Despite feeling disheartened, you continued to speak. "Mammon, I don't care how long it takes for you to accept that you are all of the things I tell you. If I can lend you my eyes so you can see what kind of wonderful demon I'm seeing whenever I look at you, I'd do so in a heartbeat. I love you."

You thought this would placate him, but instead, he sneered. "Which part of me do you actually love?"

"Everything!" you answered. "I love that there is so much more to you than meets the eye---I feel thankful every day that I have been privy to see that sweet and sincere side of you, especially in your letter. True, I did not feel that way at first, but the letter, oh Mammon. I fell in love with you upon reading its first passages! No one had ever said such precious words to me in my life, so I wanted to do the same for you."

"In the end, it's always that stupid letter."

"Excuse me?"

"IT'S ALWAYS THAT STUPID FUCKING LETTER!" he shouted, immediately regretting his outburst once he saw the hurt look on your face. However hurt you looked as the truth was spoken to you, he pressed on and twisted the knife even further. If a sweet memory is a calm before your inevitable storm (read: breakup), it was better to at least tell you the truth.

"I can't see it. I can't see that wonderful demon you're always talking about---the one who wrote that letter to you." The sunset dyed his silver hair orange. "I tried seeing him. Maybe it's me who's the problem, y'know? You kept on telling me I'm all these amazin' things, but I just couldn't. All I see is...me."

"Mammon."

"You said I was sincere, but I don't remember bein' sincere at all when I was writin' that stupid thing, so I tried to be even if I was bad at it. You said I was thoughtful so I tried to be, but look at where that thoughtfulness went---tears on your fucking face." he laughed bitterly. "I'm an absolute saint, aren't I?"

"...I really meant it you know?"

" 'Course you do. That's fer sure. But lovin' a scum means he's still scum. You deserve better, and I can't give that to ya."

"But Mammon…I only want you."

Mammon's bitter smile never left his face. "Do ya really? Or do you want the Mammon who wrote you the letter?"

!!!

"See? I gotcha, didn't I?"

You don't understand. What did he get that you didn't? You love Mammon, that was the truth. You did not love him, and weren't even aware of him at first, but the letter he sent to your locker changed that. It was a catalyst for finally seeing him in a completely different light. What was the difference between the Mammon who wrote the letter to the Mammon in front of you in the first place? Aren't they one and the same? Was he joking right now? Because you certainly weren't laughing.

However many thoughts were racing in your mind right now, only three words seem to come out of you.

"I love you," and every utterance only brought more tears in your eyes, afraid of the possibility that Mammon must have been feeling the same way right now.

You were tired. Tired of explaining it to him, tired of reassuring him that he was fine the way he is. Every 'I love you' was like a dagger to your heart, growing conscious of the fact that both of you may feel the same way, but both of your feelings weren't reaching each other at all.

In your exasperation, you couldn't help but finally say,

"I don't want this anymore."

You wondered where it all went wrong.

Everything had been perfect since you discovered the identity of your secret admirer. Uncovering sides of Mammon that perhaps he wasn't even aware of himself, you spent a lot of time getting to know each other, marveling at every new thing you discovered about him. You kept his love-filled words close to your heart, lingering there at times when you felt lost and perhaps even unloved. His penned words were beautiful yet poignant, hopeful yet deep which, you have eventually discovered reflected so much of Mammon himself. He often rebuffed your praises, perhaps shy of your careful observations. There would always be a blush there dusting his cheeks, colouring itself in deeper shades at every sneaky kiss. You always liked those nights when you talk about anything that pops out of your minds, and you thought he liked them too. But now, you were starting to feel doubt.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

*beep!*

"Get on first. I'll catch up with ya."

"...okay."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

You didn't know how you were able to get home that night. You couldn't even remember the people you spoke to before you went back to your room. The side of your bed was empty of Mammon as well as your heart.

You didn't realise that you hurt him. You might have meant well and were even truthful of your affections for him, but the truth still laid there, mocking you in the face--you were idealising him. You thought you knew him by a few reads of the scented passages of his letter, that you refused to see him for who he really is. Oh, what a hypocrite you are.

His question continued to linger in your mind as you retrieved the said letter from your drawer. You didn't have the heart to read what it says anymore.

Why does it matter? It's all over.

Thinking in that vein, you sighted the gas lamp near your table and started entertaining darker thoughts.

Why not just forget about everything?

[ What will you do? ]

💌Burn the letter

💌Hesitate

💌masterlist

[chaptersinprogress]

hurricane (take my breath away)

Bright walked over to join them, balancing a tray of fresh drinks easily. Sliding them onto the table, he carelessly sat on the edge of the table.

"He still hasn't caved?"

Knot shook his head. "Nope."

Rating: T

Warnings: swearing

Pairings: Arthit/Kongpob

Prompt: ‘i didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so i just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? okay’ au - by @mraculous

Prem, Knot and Toota stared at Arthit.

Their one-sided staring match carried on even as the person being stared at fidgeted awkwardly and looked everywhere but at them. Bright walked over to join them, balancing a tray of fresh drinks easily. Sliding them onto the table, he carelessly sat on the edge of the table.

"He still hasn't caved?"

Knot shook his head. "Nope."

Bright shoved his face into Arthit’s, who immediately leaned back to avoid the scrutiny. Bright boinked him on his head.

"Ai'Bright!" the latter yelled in exasperation and annoyance.

"Why aren't you telling us anything, Ai'Arthit?" asked Prem, finally having enough of his friend's stubborn silence. "Did something happen?" His eyes narrowed. "If they did anything you didn't want, you know you can tell us, right? We'll make them pay."

The others stiffened at the implication and loudly expressed their support in helping to kill the person and hide the body. Arthit buried his head in his hands, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

They were attracting a lot of cautious and scared looks with their rather vocal plans of gruesome murder. Bright might own the bar they were at, but that wouldn't help them if they had the police called on them.

Then again, what exactly could he tell the others to dissuade them from their plans? Certainly not the truth.

'No, they didn't hurt me. It was just that the guy - P'Fan? P'San? - arrived over half an hour late, spent the entire time talking about his ex and how his current date couldn't compare to his angel, and then pulled a dine-and-dash, sticking me with the hefty bill.'

Arthit grimaced at the reminder of the awful experience. He was never going to go on another date ever again. Blind date? More like blind robbery.

"Ai'Arthit, you still with us?" asked Toota.

Arthit sighed before lifting his head up and downing his drink. "Yeah. I just don't want to talk about it, ok? Drop it."

"We're just worried because every week you've never failed to complain about how terribly the dates have gone. So it's a bit strange that you've been so quiet about this one," said Knot.

Well sue him if he didn't want to rehash the same old story of not being able to make it through a single first date successfully! He'd had enough of humiliating himself over and over. Now if only his friends would get the fucking memo…

Maybe the alcohol had finally gotten to him because the words fell off his tongue without permission. "I don't want to say anything 'cause the person is here!"

Bright almost fell over in shock. "Wait, like right now?!"

Arthit froze. Shit, shit, shit, why did he say that?! Of all the lies to have gone with, his brain chose that one? What the fuck was his brain-to-mouth filter doing?! And he called himself an engineer! From the eager looks his friends were shooting him, the only kind he was was an engineer of his own demise!

Prem scowled when Arthit refused to respond. "So, where are they?"

"Promise that you won't go near them," Arthit demanded, scrambling to buy time to come up with a plan.

His friends exchanged heavy glances. With a meaningful nod, Bright spoke up, raising three fingers. "Fine, I promise I won't go near them. Now point them out."

Shit! He hadn't expected an agreement!

Arthit hastily searched the bar for someone who looked like they had come alone to pass off as his date, since the actual one was most certainly not there (not that he'd ID him to his friends anyway). His gaze fell on a lithe man in a suit who was idly swirling his glass, seated at a counter in the far corner of bar, tucked away from everyone else.

Arthit jerked his head in that direction. "That guy."

Knot, Prem and Toota immediately stood up and made a beeline for him.

"Wait, wait!" Arthit yelled after them, almost knocking his chair over in his haste to stand up. "You guys promised not to go to him!"

Bright laughed from where he was still seated on edge of the table. "Ai'Arthit, you're losing your touch. They didn't promise you anything. I did."

Arthit snarled at him, baring his teeth for good measure, before turning around and running after the other assholes he no longer considered friends to do some damage control.

But Fate seemed to be holding a grudge against him because by the time he'd managed to make his way over to the other side, his so-called friends were surrounding the guy and had already started their interrogation.

"You fuckers!" shouted Arthit. "Leave him alone!"

The four men turned to face him. Arthit's breath caught in his throat as he finally got a good look at the person he'd pointed out. Clad in a form-fitting dark grey suit with the first two buttons of its blood-red dress shirt undone, the man looked like he'd just walked out of a fashion magazine spread.

His hair was artfully mussed - the long fringe pushed up and to the side, the tips just falling into his eye - and the two studs in his ears glittered in the dim lights of the bar.

Arthit's eyes trailed over the man's high cheekbones, the sloping nose, his chiseled jaw, before finally stopping at thin, pale pink lips that were parted just the slightest. Desire pooled deep in his belly as he found his thoughts wandering down the dangerous path of imagining what they would feel like under his own.

"Ai'Arthit, so this was why you didn't want us to meet him, huh?"

Prem's amused voice dragged him back to the present. Arthit frantically tore his gaze from the man's mouth to meet the eyes of his friends, who were watching him with a mix of mirth and exasperation.

He flushed, the embarrassment of having been caught unabashedly ogling the man he had supposedly gone on a date with making itself known. His eyes widened in horror. Oh fuck, they thought he'd gone on a date with this guy!

"I can't blame him though," said Toota, grinning like a cat that had caught the canary. "If I were Arthit, I would want to lock him away so that only I could see him too."

Knot raised an eyebrow. "From the way he was drooling, I'd say they'd be doing a lot more than just looking."

Arthit was sure he resembled a tomato from how hard he was blushing. He didn't dare look at the man his friends had descended upon. Who, surprisingly, had yet to say anything about that fact (since his arrival at the very least).

"Please leave," he gritted out, painfully aware of his proximity to the other. "Please stop embarrassing me any further. I'll do anything if you just let this go, I swear it on my gear."

A warm hand wrapped around his wrist and gave a sharp yank. Yelping, Arthit promptly found himself trapped between the guy's legs, his hands braced on strong thighs which pressed against his hips with an unyielding pressure.

"Looks like the game is up darling," the man chuckled. He nuzzled Arthit's hair and murmured into it, "Just play along."

Arthit shuddered as the man's breath fanned over his ear. Struggling to process the sudden turn of events, he could only nod slightly in agreement.

The man pulled back. "I assume these are the friends you mentioned?" he asked, squeezing Arthit's waist pointedly.

Just barely catching on, Arthit replied dazedly, "Ah yes, meet Toota, Knot, and Prem."

The respective people lifted their hands in acknowledgement as their names were called. With thinly-veiled interest, they watched as Arthit made no move to disentangle himself from the man who had so casually maneuvered their PDA-aversive friend as he liked.

"I'm Kong," the man introduced himself. "I'm not sure how much Arthit's told you about me."

Knot leaned forward, resting a forearm on the counter. "That's the interesting thing. He's told us absolutely nothing."

Kong laughed, sliding an arm around Arthit's waist and turning him in his hold such that Arthit's back was flush against the former's leg. The movement seemed to shock the latter back to reality.

Arthit flung his hands off the man's legs with a squeak he'd later vehemently deny letting out. But when Kong pressed his thigh against the small of Arthit's back warningly, Arthit smartly decided to shut up and follow his lead.

"Mmm, Arthit did say he wished to spare me for as long as possible," Kong replied good-naturedly. "But looks like Fate insisted that I meet the family."

Prem barked a laugh. "That's right." He stared at Kong unwaveringly. "So, tell us about yourself."

"Well, my name's Kong and I'm 25 this year. I hold a master's in Economics and work in business. I also have 2 older sisters and a si sawat named Smoke." (A/N: si sawat, aka Korat, is a cat breed native to Thailand)

"Where did you study?"

"I studied at BU for my bachelor's but finished my master's at Stanford."

"What are your hobbies?"

"I like to read fiction. I also dabble in photography."

"What would you say are your strengths and weaknesses?"

"Ai'Prem, what's with all these questions?!" Arthit exclaimed, having had enough and about to combust from embarrassment. "This isn't a fucking interview!"

Knot smirked. "That's exactly what it is, Ai'Arthit. Your Kong here is being interviewed for the position of your faen."

These fucking friends of his! Arthit buried his face in his hands and screamed. Kong chuckled and ran a hand soothingly through Arthit's hair, the other rubbing circles on his hip. He shot the group a wordless plea for mercy, for the latter’s sake.

"Ok, ok, one last one," Toota laughed, taking pity on his poor beleaguered friend. "How many exes do you have?"

Arthit's head shot up and he half-shrieked. "Ai'Toot!"

Pressing a light kiss to the side of his head, Kong answered. "Just one. A girl I used to date in high school but broke-up with in the middle of my freshman year in university."

"Why haven't you dated anyone else?" questioned Knot. "You seem to be quite the catch."

Arthit groaned and buried his head in the crook of Kong's neck. "For fuck's sake, just kill me now and be done with it." Maybe if he closed his eyes it would all just go away.

Kong smiled down at the beautiful man in his arms. He was too adorable for words. Heck, even his angry grumbling was cute.

"Well, I had no time for a relationship because I focusing on my academics, and later, on my career. But my parents decided that it was high time I considered settling down and sent me on my first ever blind date."

Kong turned an adoring gaze towards Arthit, "That's when I met Arthit. After our date, I was absolutely sure that he was the one. But we both agreed not to rush into things and just take it slow. Though this meeting certainly sped up that timeline."

He turned back to Arthit's friends. "Do I pass?"

Prem and Knot looked at each other and then nodded.

"For now," said Knot.

Toota however, was frowning and muttering under his breath. "Kong, business, economics… and the si sawat… it all sounds really familiar, but why?" A few seconds later, he gasped in recognition and asked slowly. "By any chance is Kong short for Kongpob?"

Kong stiffened, before grimacing and nodding.

"Then… you wouldn't happen to be Kongpob Suthiluck, would you?"

Looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, Kong answered, "The one and only."

"No way!" Toota exclaimed.

Knot and Prem's jaws dropped as they stared at the man their friend was cuddling up to in a new light.

Arthit lifted his head off Kong's shoulder with a sigh. "Now what's the problem?"

His three friends turned incredulous gazes towards Arthit.

"Ai'Arthit, there's no way you can possibly be this dense…" said Prem.

Knot shook his head. "Ai'Prem, you forget. This is Arthit we're talking about. He literally has no connections to the outside world beyond us and work. He doesn't have a clue."

"Oi, I'm still here you know!"

Toota decided to put Arthit out of his misery. "Your faen's one of the heirs to the third most successful company in Thailand, a formidable businessman in his own right, and voted the most eligible bachelor of the year."

"Yeah, right," Arthit snorted disbelievingly.

Did his friends really think now was the time to try to pull one over him? What were the chances a guy like the one Toota had described was hanging out in Bright's bar of all places and playing along as the last person he'd gone on a date with?

Zero. Nada. Zilch.

Kongpob spoke up sheepishly, "I think Arthit and I need to have this conversation in private."

"Yeah," added Arthit. He narrowed his eyes at the others. "Scram."

To Arthit’s surprise, for once in their lives his friends actually obeyed him with no protests whatsoever. Though they did shoot the pair concerned and encouraging glances as they went.

Once they had left, Arthit finally relaxed. 'At least that's one problem solved,' he thought.

And then realised that he was still caged between Kongpob's thighs, the latter's arms comfortably draped around his waist. The blush that had finally died down came rushing back.

With yet another squeak he'd deny making until his last breath, Arthit attempted to lunge out of that grip. Not that he managed to get very far since Kongpob immediately grabbed him and pulled him back into an even stronger embrace.

"Kong!" he hissed.

"Sorry darling," replied Kongpob cheerily. "Can't have you running away before we even start our talk."

"I'm not running away!" he denied forcefully. "And stop calling me darling! I'm 2 years older than you so address me properly!"

"Ok P'Arthit," Kongpob agreed easily, making no move to release the man.

"Are you going to let go of me or not?!"

Kongpob hummed consideringly before whispering in his ear, "Only if you give me a kiss."

"What?!" Arthit shrieked.

"I'll let go only if you give me a kiss."

"No way!"

Kongpob pouted, leaning back to look at Arthit. "You wouldn't be so cruel as to reject your faen after he saved you from your friends, right?" He puffed out a cheek. "Just one over here."

"No! Let me go, bastard!"

"Nope. Not until I get my kiss."

Arthit looked away, ears turning red. It was clear that man holding him would not be easily deterred. Fine, Arthit had already been embarrassed plenty over the last few minutes, what was one more thing if it made his life simpler?

Gathering all his courage, Arthit dropped a quick peck on the offered cheek before pointedly staring anywhere but at the person in front of him.

"There! Are you happy now?!"

Kongpob grinned at the elder before releasing him. "Very happy. Thank you P'Arthit."

Arthit scowled and took a few giant steps away, staying carefully out of Kongpob's reach. "Now what's this about you being Kongpob Suthiluck?"

Kongpob cocked his head. "Um, not sure what you want to hear, but that's my name."

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"No! Not at all!" replied Kongpob hastily. "That really is my name."

He pulled out a business card and handed it over to Arthit. Accepting it, Arthit studied it carefully. The gold letters on the pristine white matched everything that Kongpob had claimed to be, at least professionally.

Except, the very circumstances that they were in screamed otherwise. Which also meant that the stupidly attractive man he'd met barely 10 minutes ago was a conman of some sort. Considering how easily he’d pulled the wool over his friends’ eyes, a very skilled one too.

But why did Arthit feel so disappointed by that?

Dropping the card onto the counter, he crossed his arms. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, and frankly, I don't care. This farce ends now. Thanks for helping me out with my friends but I should really get going."

Kongpob frowned and grabbed Arthit's arm. "Wait, why are you so convinced that I'm not me?"

"Because there's no way a guy like the one Ai’Toot described would be in a place like this!" Arthit exclaimed, waving his free hand around to encompass the bar. 'Sorry Bright,' he apologised mentally.

Running his other hand through his hair, Kongpob replied frustratedly. "That's precisely why I would come here!"

Arthit froze. Ok, that did kind of make sense in its own way.

"It's fine if you don't believe me right now," said Kongpob, releasing his hold and drawing away. He pulled a fountain pen out of his pocket and scrawled a number onto the card he'd handed Arthit earlier.

Sliding it back to the other, he continued. "I'll prove it to you over and over until you're finally convinced. Are you free the whole of tomorrow?"

Arthit eyed the card cautiously before replying. "I guess?"

"Good. Be outside this bar at 10am sharp and I'll take you out on that date we claimed to have gone on," said Kongpob with a boyish grin. He stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed on his suit.

Walking up to Arthit, he stopped beside him and whispered in his ear, "I look forward to seeing you then darling." He pressed a fleeting peck on Arthit's cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

Stunned, Arthit raised a hand to his face, fingers brushing against where the faint press of Kongpob's lips still burned, before staring blankly at the card that had been left behind on the counter.

Just what exactly had he gotten himself into?